The Alpha Choice (41 page)

He had reworked his calculations many times, and on each occasion the result was the same, the ships would not have enough time to escape the secondary wave.
 

Of course, the secondary wave would not be a problem once he carried out his orders from Narol, and disabled the weapon…except he could not disable it! The Wave needed input from all three ships. Initially, he anticipated this would make his job easy, but soon discovered it had the opposite effect. The engineers who designed the Wave built in safeguards and backups. The systems inextricably linked the three ships, and no matter which way he analysed the data he returned to the same conclusion: unless he had unfettered access to the systems of Eclipse’s sister ships, the Wave would deploy. He had the Avatar run every possible scenario, and on each occasion, the attempts to subvert the systems on the other ships, failed. His only chance was to convince Darl of the intrinsic flaw in the Wave.

Ω

When they entered weft space, Gorn knew what he needed to do. By the time they left, everything was in place. Once they arrived he would, through the Avatar, monitor what was taking place on Telluria. He needed to be alert to any opportunities that presented themselves, despite being convinced there was only one solution, and not one he relished.

The final part of his plan needed a buffer. He had searched through all the ship’s databases, as well as the more secretive files kept by the Avatar. He needed someone, in a senior position, someone whose integrity was beyond question, and who would not hesitate to do the right thing.

There was only one person who fitted the description perfectly, Kirion. The XO was blissfully unaware that he was Gorn’s escape route.

Ω

Now they had entered the Weft, she would not be needed for several hours, at least. Ensconced in the small room that had become her inner sanctum, Narol could be alone with her thoughts, and today she particularly needed the seclusion. Not for the first time, she found herself questioning her chosen path. When these thoughts, these unwelcome guests arrived, the same scenario unfolded. It did not matter that the outcome had always been the same, and would always remain the same, she would have no respite until the last detail played itself out. Only then, having purged the ghosts, could she return to her version of normality.

A non military advisor, her expertise lay in assimilating and analysing all data, concerning the cultural riches of civilisations soon to be consigned to oblivion. Anything she considered worthwhile, was to be preserved before the destruction began. No stranger to the task, she had yet to perform her role from the rarified position of a flagship. For more years than she cared to remember, she had clinically carried out her duties while serving with Darl aboard a sweeper. It was the perfect way to ensure she was above, and beyond any suspicion of disloyalty. No one, Darl included, would ever suspect what thoughts coursed through her mind, the very thoughts that had been her companions since she was a girl. The latest in a long familial line of subversives, harbouring an all-consuming passion, to resist the inexorable hunger of their race to conquer, assimilate and ultimately, destroy.
 

Many generations earlier, when the architects of her group anticipated an early change to the Te'an way of life, they considered themselves the vanguard of a rebellion. Over time, even the most fervent amongst them saw their anticipation diminish to hope, before fading to duty. After millennia of inaction, any reference to rebellion seemed inappropriate, but neither could they accept being mere insurgents, it was just too…crude, and so the term
Vanguard
took hold, but only within the group.
 

The Council’s opinion on the
Vanguard’s
very existence was divided, on the rare occasions when it was considered at all. Most members took the view that if the rebels were anything more than a figment, they had achieved little, or nothing in almost three thousand years. This inaction, over such a prolonged period, always led them to conclude that the argument was fatuous: for all their accomplishments, the rebels may as well not exist.
 

Narol’s ancestors maintained the pretence of ardent support for expansionism while, at the same time, doing their utmost to undermine the, seemingly unstoppable, wave of conquest. Whilst they knew their efforts made little difference, they also knew it was vital to maintain an unbroken, invisible opposition. They fervently believed that one day an opportunity would arise, validating their sacrifices, and it mattered little whether it was in their lifetime.

Her background was one of privilege. As a girl, she and her younger brother were brought up by their parents to view all life as precious. Slowly, but surely they became aware of the falsehoods perpetrated by the Council. As she grew older, she was introduced to other families from a similar social background, and when her parents considered the time was right, both she and her brother were shown evidence contradicting all perceived wisdom concerning the defence of their civilisation, and the true nature of their enemies.

Becoming an active member of the
Vanguard,
rather than a passive observer or sympathiser, was not difficult when your closest friends and family are part of that circle. It was harder not to be drawn in. Initially, the teenage Narol thought involvement in the movement was chic, after all, she and her friends still wore stylish clothes, and went on fashionable holidays. They belonged to a clique within a society where everyone was privileged, but like most societies, even the most affluent, some members are more privileged than others.

As she enjoyed the usual trappings of privilege, so she initially considered this exclusive group merely another benefit. In her early years, despite espousing the aims and aspirations of the cause, she treated her obligations with the same indifference as her clothes, and holidays. Time changes many things and, one by one the trappings became meaningless, falling by the wayside as they were supplanted by an all consuming desire, to put things right.

By the time she was fully committed to the
Vanguard
, Narol knew it had created an organisation, surpassing even the Agency in its complexity but, unlike its enemy, achieving nothing of note. Where all of her contemporaries were content to adhere to its precepts, taking a purely philosophical stance, she needed more, and was not content that her activities would never go beyond privately expressed fervour and outrage.

Looking around her room, she tried again to recall the moment when nothing else, and no one else was as important as the cause, and once again was forced to concede defeat. Her assimilation was slow; there was a long time when part of her old, carefree self remained, but an even longer time since it had withered to nothing.

In direct contrast to her path, Zaran did not join the
Vanguard
. Like his sister, he was a thinker, but unlike her, his physical prowess led his parents and tutors to think he might become a warrior. Much to their surprise, he chose a more peaceful life - Narol did not share their parents’ sense of bewilderment. Not only were they nonplussed by his choice, they were disappointed, their hopes to have a sympathiser within the much-vaunted service, dashed. In time, he would have been party to vital intelligence, which could have been used to further the cause. Unfortunately, he not only rejected their plans for him, but also espoused the view that outspoken opposition was preferable to standing by for thousands of years, awaiting an opportunity that may never arise, while billions died. He was oblivious to the consequences.

Narol was very close to her brother, and was pleased he did not enter the service. Just as she knew her own destiny, she knew military life would have made him deeply unhappy. She did, however, decide that one of them would infiltrate the stronghold of the enemy and obtain desperately needed intelligence.

For generations beyond counting, entire families had become part of the
Vanguard
. A child born to such a family was destined to become part of this tireless cause, even if only on the periphery, as happened to most of her friends. This placed an immense burden on the lives of those involved; some deliberately chose not to have children, and with their passing, that branch of the familial line, and its involvement, was at an end. Such desperate decisions were understandable. The selfless questing for knowledge and intelligence to frustrate and, ultimately, end Te’an conquest appeared unending, while the expansion of Te’an dominion had never once been halted.

Naturally, with succeeding generations, the branches of the original families grew ever more numerous. To the outside world, it appeared nothing more than a close association of the highly privileged. For fear of treachery from outsiders, the group had never expanded beyond the original families. It was a fundamental concept that none, outside the group, could be trusted. By his action, Zaran became an outsider, one with knowledge of the
Vanguard’s
existence.

Years later, when Narol had risen within the ranks of the
Vanguard
she learned that the most senior members of the group, known as the
Assembly
, which included her father, had considered killing Zaran. Her father reasoned that a single misplaced word could risk all they, and their ancestors, had striven towards. Her initial reaction was fury at the
Assembly
being no better than those they sought to stop. She reminded herself, not for the first time, that no one had previously left the movement
,
or refused to join it, and it was not unreasonable to balance the life of an innocent and well-meaning individual, against countless others. In the end, they decided to spare her brother, on the strict understanding he promised never to reveal their existence, or disseminate his views abroad - a concession their enemies would never make.

Zaran made the promise, without knowing the consequences of refusal, and she never told him.

Narol applied all her energies to fulfilling her ambition. A gifted student, she was welcomed into the most prestigious university in her city, possibly the entire planet. As an undergraduate, she excelled in cultural studies and was universally considered by her tutors, to be the most remarkable academician of her generation. She was committed totally, knowing that to gain a professorship within the University, would ultimately lead to an invitation to advise the military on its acquisitions, and so place her in an ideal position to garner intelligence.

As she had predicted, within six short years of her doctorate, and as the youngest associate professor in her university, she was approached by the military to assist them, in a purely advisory capacity. While this was not a formal appointment and gave her no insight into the workings of the service, she knew, ultimately, there would be an opportunity to join the civilian arm of the Navy. Sure enough, fifteen years later, she was on active service on a flagship cruiser, evaluating cultural artefacts in advance of a military campaign. As ever, during these periods of reflection, she assiduously avoided recollections of the sweepers, breathing a sigh of relief as those ghosts seemed content to remain hidden within the shadows, at least for the moment.
 

She performed her duties in exemplary fashion, and was considered most favourably by the ruling elite, not just because of her lineage - her father was, and her grandfather had been, members of the Council - but more importantly, because of the immensely significant treasures she had secured, in her years as senior cultural advisor to the fleet. The Council considered that, in lesser hands, the Te would have been much the poorer. Perversely, the majority genuinely believed this accretion of cultural treasures somehow preserved the essence of the obliterated civilisations; testimony to the overwhelming power of self delusion.

Narol knew that sacrifices flowed from accepting the mantle of her forebears. She would make those sacrifices without hesitation, but she also made two other decisions. First, she would not marry and second, she would not have children. Her first choice appeared, to her colleagues and superiors, to be the ultimate sacrifice to her career. In reality, she had often dreamed of sharing her life and hopes with another, and there had been a few candidates, but she never found one who, she felt, would ever be able to share her secret. The second choice was easier, never to bring an innocent into the world to become part of the unending, and unfulfilling fight against her people’s unremitting expansion. Whenever her mind drifted along these lines, questioning her decision, she remembered how close her brother had come to losing his life, and was thankful for the choice she had made.
 

Her thoughts lighted upon her current predicament. Gorn had passed on the bad news about the Alpha Wave, it could not be disabled. The boy was, not surprisingly, concerned about a secondary wave that would destroy them all.
Perhaps,
she thought,
that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. After all, the news would get back to Te’ath and questions would, most certainly, be asked.
It was not the outcome she had originally intended, but it was acceptable. Naturally, she kept those thoughts from Gorn, who wanted to warn Darl. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told him, ‘I can’t permit you to do that. It might raise his suspicions too soon.’ The boy was not happy at all.
 

Whatever the final outcome, short of their total annihilation, she knew posterity would be unkind to the woman who decided to end the life of her nephew. She could not even find comfort in the assassin’s assurance that Gorn would never know what was happening, and would feel nothing. Just as she was running this through her mind, a hologram appeared before her, showing the face of an unexpected visitor to her domain. She was about to have an opportunity to seek further assurances. Looking around the small, sterile room which had become her world, she reminded herself that, upon the death of her nephew, there would be no one within her family to carry on her struggle, and part of her was glad.

Δ