The Alpha Choice (27 page)

‘Once again, I don’t seem to have much of a choice. It all seems a little absurd, the fate of two races, maybe three if we count the Custodians, might depend on a zagball game. I'm supposed to refuse to play, just so my new commander will invite me around to persuade me to do, what I intend doing anyway!’

‘I suppose, when you put it like that, it does seem a little absurd, but think of it this way, if you accept Darl's invitation to talk, and let him convince you to take part, you might get some other information to put your mind at rest.’

‘I'm not sure I know what you mean?’

‘I think you do.’

‘Perhaps you had better explain it to me,’ Gorn added, because actually, he did not know what his father meant.

Zaran interlaced the fingers of his two large hands. ‘The condition you imposed, only hints at what troubles you. All your life you’ve been brought up to accept some fundamental truths, which you’re now told are not only flawed, but diametrically opposed to the truth. Go to Darl's house. You might learn something that will convince you.’

‘Somehow, I don’t think he’s just going to come out and say it.’

‘Fine,’ replied his father, ‘consider it a training exercise. When you go on board this ship, you’ll to have to tread very carefully to get the information you need, and to do what we both know you’ll end up doing. Now, I think you need some more time alone.’

Gorn did not wait for Jaron and Ciara to return. He left the villa and set off in the direction of his apartment. Despite their technological advancement, many Te'ans chose to walk, wherever possible. There was no danger to pedestrians as criminal acts of personal violence to both property and person were nonexistent; on that level, at least, they were a peaceful society.
 

Zaran watched his son walk down the avenue until he was out of sight. He then went to a viewing room where he replayed the end of Cyrar’s message, no longer interactive. He knew what it contained, but he needed to play it again, to give him the courage to do what had to be done. Her love for him was writ large in the way she spoke, but there was something else, she was troubled and the reason became clear when she said. ‘You must do everything you can to assist our son, if he decides to follow through,’ he waited through her pause for the words he had listened to, over and over. ‘Whatever dangers he faces, the greatest is Narol. Remember, she can't be trusted.’

He terminated the recording and looked out of the window. What was he to do? If he told his son of Cyrar’s warning, the boy would not be able to hide what he knew from Narol, and his life would be immediately forfeit. It was a foregone conclusion that Gorn would agree to help Narol, and until his task was completed he would remain unharmed. It was the safer course to tell him nothing, and there were some things of which Narol was, for the moment, completely unaware.

Ω

The meeting with Darl signalled Gorn being forever bound to a mysterious organisation, he knew very little about, other than that they had no qualms over his mother’s death.
 

Access to sensitive material, which undoubtedly would prove Narol right, was restricted, and he thought it ironic the only way to access that information, was as science officer on Eclipse. Whilst there were other means, to gain access, their employment meant it was unlikely he could remain in the shadows.
 

His father was right about the importance of the meeting with Darl, but not for the reason Zaron imagined. He was more interested in learning about the man, rather than what he had to say. When, not if, he attempted to derail the invasion, Darl might be all that stood between success, and failure.

His acceptance of the post was quickly followed by a personal invitation to meet his new commander. This was prompted, as he well knew, by the forthcoming zagball match, pitching Eclipse against the cream of the entire fleet, which had come about in the most absurd manner.

With the completion of his bridge complement, Darl, during a dinner attended by all the senior officers of the fleet, stated he had the best bridge crew in the Navy, a wild statement not readily testable. Not satisfied, he continued, at the urging of others, to declare: with the addition of Gorn, he now had a zagball team unparalleled anywhere in the fleet. That brag was met with some general groaning, but most were content to let it pass.

Being effectively ignored, he pressed his point and issued a challenge. His team were better than the rest of the fleet combined, and he would consider the absence of a response to be confirmation of his assertion. The admiralty, and the other commanders were left with no choice, but to take up the challenge. Darl smiled, completely unaware that Gorn would refuse to take part in the match.
 

Later, when he heard of the refusal, it was quietly suggested to him that he renew the invitation he extended, when he visited Meteor. Darl liked the idea, and felt the young man’s resistance melting away at the mere thought of it.
 

Ω

All Te’ans lived in considerable comfort, with each family possessed of both a coastal, as well as a rural villa. However, within city boundaries, accommodation was restricted to apartments of varying sizes, at least in most cases. Darl’s city property was a huge villa standing alone within substantial grounds, a monumental statement of power and influence.
 

Gorn had taken a public flyer to within three blocks of Darl's address, and decided to walk the rest of the way. Approaching the gateway, he recognised the teleport posts, despite them being cleverly integrated into imposing gate columns. It came as no surprise, therefore, that he soon found himself in front of an equally impressive doorway to Darl's mansion. Teleportation was something he preferred to have some control over and for his host to remove that choice, in favour of flamboyance, did little to enamour him in the eyes of the science officer.

The double doors opened inwards on hinges in the ancient manner preferred by some, usually the very rich. As he stepped across the threshold, he was met by an olive skinned young woman who, without introducing herself, led him through a large portico to another doorway. He now faced a traditional, sliding door, which opened on their approach. The woman remained at the doorway, gesturing for Gorn to enter, alone.
 

Walking into the room, he recalled what he had been told by his aunt about the man he was about to meet. He had two weaknesses: vanity, which occasionally blinded him to what was going on around him, compounded by a weakness for beautiful women, sometimes eroding all lines concerning propriety. His second weakness, intoxicants, while not uncommon with some wealthy cadets, was a rarity among mature, established adults. It was rumoured that, within the higher echelons of the service and government, some did enjoy the effects of imbibing more esoteric versions of these liquids, notwithstanding that they could achieve the same effects by non-invasive means. Gorn had already taken his capsule. Given that his task was to glean intelligence, the last thing he wanted was to be an addled mind divulging information to his host.
 

Darl stood in the centre of a large room, which was adorned with treasures the like of which Gorn had only seen in museums. He stepped forward to greet the young man who had succumbed to the temptation of entering his domain. Gorn found it difficult to tear his eyes from the staggering display of wealth, but his host waited patiently, evidently enjoying the reaction of his young officer.

Soon, the two were seated and, after a few moments, Gorn became aware that his new commander’s voice was less exact than it had been when they first met. A look at the older man’s eyes confirmed his suspicions, his aunt had been right, Darl was already under the influence of something. The thought, immediately springing to mind was,
this might not be so difficult, after all.
The key lies in whether his invitation stretches to drinking
.

No sooner had Gorn formed this thought, than Darl poured a generous amount of golden liquid into a cup, and handed it over, raising his own cup in salutation. Gorn responded by gulping down half the contents. ‘Slow down, my young friend, you need to pace yourself, this isn't the insipid swill you’re used to, it has a kick.’

Looking down into the cup, and remembering Narol’s parting words, Gorn smiled sheepishly at his superior - something alien to him. ‘I didn’t know, sir, I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be, and there’s no
sir
, tonight,’ he looked at the young officer with narrowed eyes. ‘Want to go onto something less toxic?’

‘If it’s good enough for my commander, it’s good enough for me.’

Darl’s eyes brightened. ‘Good lad!’ He grabbed the flask and leaned over to Gorn's cup, filling it almost to the brim. ‘Remember what I said, pace yourself.’ The contradiction between his words and actions were almost comical. He went through the formalities of welcoming Gorn's change of mind, with no enquiry as to what prompted the rethink, as if his arrogance was such that he could put the original refusal out of his mind. He briefly extolled the virtues of his erstwhile science officer and, duty done, moved on to make expansive comments concerning Eclipse and her crew. It soon became clear that by crew, he meant the bridge staff, and that he had spent the better part of his time, as commander of the flagship, seeking out and obtaining the services of the best bridge officers in the service.
   

After another three cups of the pungent liquid, Gorn began ‘topping up’ his own drink, on the last occasion, making sure he spilled almost half the contents on to the floor. Darl was delighted, ‘Careful now, that liquid is precious stuff!’

The response was an idiot smile - this affectation was becoming a little easier - and another mouthful. Darl was completely at ease, and began to speak of what it meant to be the commander of the greatest ship in the fleet. Initially, there were interminable references to duty and honour, but as the flow of the liquid increased, so did the breadth of the commander’s subject matter. Soon he was presenting another, less noble facet to his character, readily admitting his background as commander of the most successful sweeper in the Fleet, without explaining what such a ship did.

The more Darl spoke, the more Gorn realised his superior revelled in taking advantage of the naïveté, and greed of powerful civilians. He regularly entered into a few select arrangements where, in return for a healthy, untraceable payment - he had no interest in profit sharing - he would provide technology, seized from defeated races, that could be adapted and make the purchaser a fortune. Very few complained.

Occasionally, the technology had proven unusable. When that happened he reminded his buyers they had never been misled. If they persisted in lamenting their loss, usually in direct proportion to the size of the payment they had made, he would become indignant, pointing out that good men, never women, had gone to their deaths to secure the technology, while they stayed at home enjoying a luxurious lifestyle.

This usually quietened them down, but Darl did not fool himself by imagining it had anything to do with his rhetoric; he knew they harboured the expectation of another, more lucrative, tidbit after his next expedition. This sideline had helped consolidate his wealth and influence, and as if to emphasise the point he waved his hand at the
exhibits
in the room.

Darl’s candour surprised Gorn, and as if sensing this through the thickening haze afforded by the drink, the commander moved on to more
appropriate
matters, but it was not long before he reverted to his extra curricular activities. Gorn listened patiently to these tales, suspecting some to be exaggerated. Yet, despite his personal feelings it soon occurred to him that the commander, as well as being a very dangerous enemy, could be a very powerful ally.

Away from the service, and its codes of honour towards those with whom he served, Darl's attitude towards civilians was harsh, and not limited to his business associates. Civilians were second-class citizens, the soft underbelly of a society totally dependent, for its continued survival, upon a strong Navy, and owing all of which they stood possessed, to the men and women of the military.
Perhaps,
thought Gorn, remembering his briefing from Narol,
he applies this reasoning to justify his affairs with the wives, and daughters of powerful civilians,
maybe the girl I’ve just seen is one of them
.

He wondered when Darl had begun his dalliances. For himself, he had resolved to eschew all female relationships, at least of a sexual nature, until he had attained his goals. Several times he had almost relented. It was difficult resisting the advances of some of the girls who came across his path, but each time he was about to give way he saw, or heard of some contemporary who was put on report for unofficially extending shore leave, or another who had become besotted, and chose to leave the service. It was a condition that no cadets, or service personnel with less than six years service, were permitted dependants, in other words no wives, no children. Gorn convinced himself, not without some justification, there would be plenty of time later for that sort of thing, but suspected Darl had never taken that view.

Now firmly in the grip of the golden serpent, there was no holding Darl, and a further surprise lay in store for his listener. ‘Of course, since I took on the mantle of Eclipse, all that had to stop but,’ he smiled and dropped his voice to an almost conspiratorial tone, ‘everything is about to change. You have joined us at just the right time.’ He lifted his cup. ‘I give you Eclipse, sweeper extraordinary.’

The gesture was returned, with Gorn hoping his face gave nothing away.
 

The commander put down his drink and, sitting back in his chair, took on the voice Gorn had heard when they first met. The man who earlier voiced his loathing for the privileged and powerful, whilst being one of them, now spoke of the greatness of the Te, and their destiny to reach ever further into the wonder that was interstellar space.