Peggy Sue (The T'aafhal Inheritance) (10 page)

“Aye aye, Sir.” the three men chorused.

“Dismissed,” the Captain said, returning to the paperwork on his desk and trying not to think of Ludmilla’s impending trip to Vienna.

Yuki’s Apartment, Tokyo, Japan

After being briefly questioned by a number of stern but polite police officials at NPSC headquarters, Yuki was escorted back to his apartment near the University. He was advised to remain in the apartment in a way that suggested compliance was not optional. While he was happy to be back in familiar surroundings, he was anxious to contact some of his colleagues. The knowledge and information gained on the voyage to Beta Comae was just too vital to not be shared.

Turning on the TV, Yuki was astounded to see a group of government officials denouncing reports of an “alien menace” by a “rogue American Navy officer.” They could only be talking about Captain Sutton and the material that had been sent to the UN and various national governments. “We believe this story to be a complete fabrication by an unstable person,” the government minister was saying. “And most disgraceful is the insinuation that Dr. Hiroyuki Saito and the two brave cosmonauts, who died on board the ISS two months ago, are alive and participated in this science fiction fantasy adventure.”

That statement caused a chill to go down Yuki’s spine.
If the government is saying I am dead, what are they going to do with me?
He went quietly to the door and looked through the peep hole—there was a man in a dark suit standing guard outside his apartment.

Half in a panic, he picked up the telephone, only to find the line without a dial tone. Next, he went into the bedroom and retrieved his cellphone from the nightstand. It could not get a signal, evidently the police were using a signal blocker. Finally, he tried his home computer, but it could not access the Internet.

He sat on the sleeping platform and buried his face in his hands.
I must think, regain my composure!
After all he was a kendōka, a practitioner of the Japanese martial art of kendo—the way of the sword. Kendo taught the ancient zen precepts that supposedly guided the master Samurai swordsmen of old. Samurai tradition ran deep in his family—his great grandfather’s katana and wakizashi rested on the mantle in the living room.

He should not have returned, that much was now clear. He had hoped to recruit some of his colleagues to help face the menace he was convinced threatened all mankind. Instead, he would need to be rescued from peril himself. Yuki steadied his breathing and concentrated on clearing his mind. He would need his whits about him when the time came to escape.

UN Headquarters, Vienna Austria

The United Nations has four main headquarter complexes: New York, Geneva, Nairobi and Vienna. New York is the most well known, followed by the sprawling, park like complex next to Lake Geneva. But it is at the UNOV, the United Nations Office in Vienna, that the United Nations Office for Outer Space Affairs is headquartered. It should not be surprising that such an organization exists within the UN. In the more than half century since its founding the United Nations has managed to insinuate itself into every area of human activity. UNOOSA was even rumored to have appointed Earth’s first spokesperson for extraterrestrial affairs, something the organization later denied. 

The UN offices are located in the Vienna International Centre, colloquially known as UNO City in Vienna. Constructed in the 1970s, the modernistic complex consists of six Y-shaped office towers surrounding a cylindrical conference building. The highest tower contains 28 floors, standing 127 meters tall. Aside from the UN offices and the conference center, there are several banks and shopping areas on the lower floors. The VIC is an extraterritorial area, exempt from the jurisdiction of local law, and maintains its own well armed police force.

It was at the heliport on the roof of one of the shorter towers that the shuttle carrying Dr. Ludmilla Tropsha set down. The pinnace was piloted by Sandy McKennitt and carried as passengers Dr. Tropsha, Chief Zackly and two of the crew, Steve Hitch and Matt Jacobs. Hitch and Jacobs were along as a compromise between Captain Jack and Ludmilla. There for her protection should anything should go awry, both able spacers were wearing combat armor.

This was a new version of the armor the crew and Marines had worn in the assault on the alien refueling station in the Beta Comae system. The old armor was bulky and so heavy that it was only usable under low gravity conditions—hauling around 220 kilos of metal ceramic composite armor, along with the accompanying power and life support systems, could quickly sap the strength of even the strongest warrior. The new armor was much lighter, massing only 105 kilos, but more effective. It also came with a new feature that aided the wearer’s mobility.

The new armor was built around a system of electroreactive polymer bundles that complimented the wearer’s own musculature. Termed motion enhancement technology by the armor’s designers—primarily JT and GySgt Rodriguez, with help from Dr. Gupta and Dr. Schmitt—the end result was that the new suits moved under their own power, mimicking their wearer’s motions. This mostly eliminated the burden of the suits’ still considerable weight. Moreover, the artificial muscles could amplify the strength of the wearer by as much as three fold. A man who could lift 100 kilos unassisted could now lift 300 kilos when encased in armor.

The gloves on the old armor were so large that new weapons with larger grips and controls had to be designed for the action off Beat Comae. The smaller gauntlets of the new armor allowed the use of the more compact bullpup rail guns that the crew was initially armed with. Both weapon designs possessed similar firepower: a 5mm flechette firing rail gun with variable rate of fire and muzzle velocity, plus a 20mm grenade launcher capable of firing a number of different rounds. Between the weapons and enhanced armor the two sailors were more like walking light armored vehicles than foot soldiers.

Both Ludmilla and the Chief were dressed in standard jumpsuits, she in medical section white and he in deck division dark blue. The only difference from shipboard wear was heavier soled boots. “Chief, you really do not need to accompany me inside,” Ludmilla said. “I will be talking to a representative of ROSCOSMOS in one of the meeting rooms, with the UNOOSA people acting as hosts. I will be perfectly safe.”

“I don’t care who yer meeting with, Doctor,” the wiry little chief boatswain’s mate replied. “The Captain told me to stick with you the whole time.” In the Chief’s mind, orders from the Captain were the same as a command from God.

“Very well, but you will be bored to death. I will be answering questions asked by bureaucrats, Russian bureaucrats at that.”

“Yes, Ma’am. But orders is orders.”

“Let us go then, it looks like there is a party waiting to greet us at the door.”

“Right,” the Chief agreed. Then he turned and said, “Lower the ramp, Miss McKennitt.” Ludmilla was already headed for the rear of the passenger compartment. In a lowered voice the Chief continued. “Keep the boys inside and yer ear to the radio. If they try anything funny send help on the double.”

“Roger that, Chief,” Sandy acknowledged.

“Remember, if anything happens to the Doc, the Captain will keelhaul us all without spacesuits.”

Kong Karls Land, Svalbard, Norway

“Well, hello stranger,” said Isbjørn, moving a couple steps closer to Bear. “I didn’t think I would ever lay eyes on you again.” The last time she had seen him was more than three and a half years ago. As with most polar bear romances, it lasted for only a few torrid weeks. Then Bear disappeared and Isbjørn was left to fend for herself.

“Who’s this clown?” asked a confused and angry Umky. The small male tried to insert himself between his mother and the large stranger. Bear’s response was simply to swat the smaller bear aside.

“I take it he’s one of yours,” Bear said to his old flame. “Isn’t he old enough to head off on his own?”

“Yes and yes,” she replied with a hint of exasperation, adding “and he’s also one of yours.”

“What?” the startled Bear snorted. “He’s my son?”

“Yes, this is Umky,” she turned to the small male who had regained his footing and was again headed toward them. “Umky, meet your father, Pihoqahiak.” In Inuit poetry, Pihoqahiak means the ever-wandering one.

“I just go by Bear, nowadays,” Bear said. “I’ve been hanging around with a bunch of humans who mostly speak English. Besides, that name was from my carefree youth, I’ve grownup a lot since then.”

“Really?” Isbjørn said in a skeptical tone. As she spoke, Umky again tried to wedge himself between the old paramours. “I don’t care who he is, I don’t like him!” Umky said. This time it was Isbjørn who cuffed the younger bear, sending him sprawling on the tundra despite the fact that both mother and cub weighed around 275 kilos apiece.

“I heard you disappeared with some humans in a flying machine. I figured you ended up in a Zoo or as a rug in front of some human’s fireplace.”

“Oh hell no. You know me better than that, babe.”

“I was wondering how you went from hunting Inuit with a rifle to palling around with a bunch of talking monkeys.”

“Why does nobody pay attention to what I say!” whined Umky, who had again picked himself up off the ground and now sat on his hindquarters, safely out side of paw-swipe range.

“Son,” said Bear, looking at his new found offspring, “when you have something to say worth listening to, people will listen. Until then, it would be best to shut up and keep your ears open.” Turning back to Isbjørn, he added, “he’s big for his age, but I think you spoil him.”

“Yes, I probably do,” she said, looking down, “I lost his sister early on, to an orca while crossing some open water.”

“Sorry to hear that, babe,” Bear said awkwardly. He felt no pang of loss over a daughter he never knew, but the pain in Isbjørn’s eyes was obvious. “Listen, I have a proposition for you, and Junior here as well. In fact, do you know if there are anymore of our kind hanging around?”

“I saw Tornassuk and Snowflake east of here a few days ago. Why do you ask?”

“Let’s head that direction, maybe we’ll run into them,” he said, standing up on all fours. “You are going to think I’ve lost my mind, but come with me and let me tell you about this human I know called Captain Jack…”

Camp Lejeune, North Carolina

Every morning the captive Marines were allowed to shower and fed a simple breakfast, before being taken off to seemingly endless interrogation sessions. In windowless rooms, voices from the shadows asked meaningless questions while spotlights glared in the prisoners’ eyes. Their captors asked the same questions over and over, perhaps trying to catch one of the Marines in some deception or obfuscating lie. Why the government would suspect they were hiding anything remained unanswered.

The captives had also been issued new work uniforms, devoid of any rank or other insignias. Basically, everything they had on them or with them at the time they were captured at Parker’s ranch had been taken away. Well, almost everything.

GySgt Rodriguez was in the head for the purpose of changing sanitary napkins. Before she disposed of the old one, she pealed back some of the padding and removed a small black object about the size of an apple seed. “You want the old one?” she called to the guard standing outside the stall.

“Hell no, Sergeant,” came the embarrassed reply. She threw the used napkin in the toilet, then carefully implanted the comm pip into the fresh one.

After putting the new napkin to its intended use, the Gunny emerged from the stall and washed her hands in front of the waiting guard.
Thank God there are some lines even a Marine guard won’t cross,
she thought,
at least not a male Marine Guard.
Of course, the people from the ship might not be looking for them, and even if they were, the range of the little comm pip could not be much. At least they were still being kept together in a remote location—that would make an extraction easier. 

Who would be doing the extracting was another matter. Lt. Curtis, JT, the Chief and a couple of crewmen was a pretty skimpy force to be sending against one of the largest Marine bases in the United States.
Not my problem,
the Gunny said to herself,
my job is to keep the rest of the squad together and ready to go if a rescue comes. No, make that when the rescue comes. And if I ever meet that light colonel again I will shave his balls with a rusty razor and pour rubbing alcohol on them.
 

Beneath Parker’s Station, Australian Outback

“Sir, I’m quite concerned about Yuki,” said Lt. Curtis over the video link from the ship. “We know he arrived at the Tokyo airport, but he never showed up at the University. And a bunch of Japanese politicians just made an announcement denouncing our warning about the hostile aliens. More troubling, they insisted that Yuki and the two Russian cosmonauts actually died on board the ISS.”

“Hmm, first the Marines go missing and now Dr. Saito,” the Captain pondered. “I’m getting a very uneasy feeling about this operation, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, Sir,” Gretchen replied. “Have we received any positive feedback from those we sent the information package to?”

“That’s not just a no, it’s a hell no,” said TK Parker, rolling into the room to join the Captain. “Turn on the TV, the head bureaucrat from the UN is on talking about our warning.”

Quickly bringing up Fox News in a window on the screen, they caught the end of the Secretary General’s speech: “…so after reviewing the ‘evidence’ sent to the security council and various governments around the world, we can only conclude that this is some form of colossal fraud being perpetrated by unscrupulous and perhaps unstable individuals. This Captain Sutton and his crew are obviously backed by men of obscene wealth, who are using the threat of hostile extraterrestrials as a way to subjugate the peoples of the world…”