The Chronicles of Amon book 1 LINK
The Chronicles of Amon
Book 1.
Link
Wayne Williams
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work of this author.
Copyright 2015 Wayne Williams. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Characters and events in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are represented fictitiously.
OVERVIEW
From time beyond memory they had travelled the galaxy searching for systems suitable for the development of intelligent life. They called themselves Seeders.
Few of their number had come from the same worlds, though they did share a common galactic origin. Therefore, they considered themselves to be of the same race.
Their race was, by most standards, highly developed. They had evolved, grown and learned, just has had all the others. But when compared to their Creator, they considered themselves as adolescents.
Though they had not been present when any particular galaxy was formed, theirs was the task of monitoring development of the thousands of systems within each one.
They were like farmers; caring for fields light years in size. They watched as planets under their care became fertile. They looked on with glad hearts as some planets thrived, and grieved when many failed to do so.
And when the time was right, when life in a system reached a level of development conducive to introduction of intelligence, it was their task to initiate that introduction.
Thus they continued . . . sowing seeds throughout their galaxy, watching from afar as the seedlings began to thrive. For millions and even billions of years they cultivated their fields, weeding out those that failed to thrive, nurturing those that did.
They watched, as a parent watches a child; rejoicing when the young one is successful, and grieving when he is not; being tempted to intervene, but refraining from doing so, lest that interference compromise the child’s freedom to act for himself.
It was also their task to monitor, to observe, and on rare occasions, to provide guidance and direction. They knew, from eons of experience, that to interfere was to deprive the “seedlings” of their freedom to control their own destinies. Only when a race had advanced sufficiently to recognize the existence of the Seeders would they make contact, and even then, only when the “seedlings” sought them out.
Chapter 1.
Zuri had been on duty 6 of what would likely end up being a boring 8-hour shift. Being Senior Command Officer on an interplanetary spacecraft was a prestigious position, especially for a person as young as she was. But it didn’t exempt her from her turn in the rotation for ‘Officer of the Watch’ duty. All officers had to take turns pulling this gig. Because of her senior position, Zuri probably could have asked someone else to pull it for her. But she felt she needed to set a good example for the other crew members on this ship, not to mention those on the other ships. Besides, it was a welcome change from the mundane routine of her regular duties.
She had completed all but the last item on her O.W. Checklist: ‘Air Handler Unit Inspections.’ All except C deck had checked out fine. The mid-deck unit needed a filter change. Apparently someone forgot to change it at the last scheduled inspection. They hadn’t even logged it.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” she thought to herself. O.W. duty was pretty boring. All you had to do was run the computerized checklist some time during your shift. If you found anything out of sorts, you just needed to assign someone to fix the problem. It wasn’t a big deal really.
Zuri was getting bored just sitting at her station. Sometimes trying to look busy was hard work. You had to focus your attention on something, anything, just to give the appearance of being in control. Most of the time it was a challenge just to stay awake.
She decided to go fix the problem herself. After all it was only a filter change, not something that required any special technical expertise.
“Hey, Rahul.” She keyed her shoulder microphone as she entered the lift. “I need to enter SA to change a filter on C deck. Will you clear me please?”
She jabbed the C deck button, chipping her fingernail polish in the process. Her knees buckled ever so slightly as the lift accelerated. Leaning back against the elevator wall, she scrutinized her other nine nails.
“Getting kinda scruffy,” she said to herself. This time of night there was no one there to hear her.
Up in the Maintenance Control section of the bridge, Rahul reached out to push the ‘Safe Entry’ button on his ‘System Air’ console.
“Yes mam. Why don’t you call someone from maintenance to get it for you? Ah! Shit!” Zuri heard in her earpiece. “Hold on a second. Sorry. I just dumped coffee all over myself.” A squeak, some muffled curses, then he was back. “OK. You’re good to go. Can you get someone to come up and baby sit for a minute? I need to go change my shirt . . . damn!”
“Sure. No prob. I’ll be up in a few.” Why bother someone else? She could just as easily do it herself after she finished the filter change.
Arriving at C deck, she walked the short distance down the hall and stopped at the panel labelled ‘System Air.’ She popped the 3 zurc fittings that held the panel in place, sat it aside and then squeezed in between the two wall supports.
Once inside, the space opened up enough for her to stand comfortably. To her left, the filter bank vibrated quietly. She punched the ‘bypass’ button and waited for the green light.
“This is about as exciting as it gets around here,” she thought as she pulled the new filter out of the box sitting beside the unit. A puff of air gently swirled her hair as she bent to open the filter housing.
“Maybe I’ll change my nail color this time,” she thought as she pulled the old filter out. She had the new filter part-way inserted when her PCU (personal com unit) beeped. Startled, she jerked her hands away from the housing, chipping another nail. “Damn,” she said under her breath. That one hurt.
“Mam, you better get up here ASAP! All the lights on the proximity panels just lit up. There’s something big out there that wasn’t there a second ago! Hold one. . . . Bridge just confirmed . . . it’s solid, metallic and not moving.” Rahul’s shirt and her chipped nails would have to wait.
“On my way!” Zuri slammed the housing closed and punched the ‘main flow’ button. Squirming out of the compartment, she keyed her mic. “Bridge! S.C.O. What’s going on?”
“We’re not sure, mam. One second clear space. The next, there it is. It’s huge! Two, maybe three ‘klics’ across!”
“Any transmissions? Any signs of aggression?” Zuri ran back to the lift and punched ‘Bridge.’
“Appears to be cylindrical; maybe twice as long as it is wide! Still too far away to confirm, but it appears to be metallic. Hold one.” Zuri could hear the muffled commotion in the background. “SecCom reports no incoming on any band. The thing’s just sitting there.”
“Very well. Notify the fleet. I’ll be up there in 2 or less.” Shifting her weight impatiently she watched the levels display above the door: (E, F, G . . . )
“Who’re the O.W.’s on this shift?” she thought out loud as her memory spun into high gear, recalling the names of the senior officers on the other four ships. “Chetan on board the Venure; Imamu on Sequum; Asha on Interloq; Wasswa, (Zuri’s twin sister) on Sauda; and Evander here on Brighid.”
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(R. .S. . . . T.) The lift sighed to a gentle stop. Zuri swatted the ‘open’ button. As the door opened, everyone turned as she rushed into the room. The ships C.O. (Chief of Operations) was bent over the SecCom station, his hand resting reassuringly on the operator’s shoulder. He gave her a gentle pat as he straightened and turned to face Zuri.
Evander was tall, thin and greying. His receding hair line gave him the appearance of always frowning. But those who had gained his confidence knew better. He was not frowning. He was intently concentrating on the matter at hand. This was his approach to everything. Be intent. Be thorough.
“Chief, you’re now O.W. Bring the protocol manual.” Zuri motioned to Evander to follow as she entered the bridge and turned toward her observation platform. “All ships report!”
“Sequum here. Our readings are the same as yours. Propulsion reports our tertiary reactor at 70 percent and off line for diagnostics. Primary and secondary are nominal. No problem maneuvering if we need to.”
“Venure reporting. All systems good to go. Mid-range scanner confirms target’s length is six kilometers plus.”
“S.C.O., Com. Interloq reports phase imbalance in their primary transmitter dish. Should be back up soon. Otherwise, nothing to report other than what we already know.”
“Sauda here. Scans indicate the target is hollow. Interior is hard to read, though. Otherwise, we’re 100 percent.”
“Very well. Stand by.” The S.C.O. switched to internal. “Nav? Where is that thing relative to our current course?”
“Centered, mam. Current speed puts us there in just under two days.”
“Very well. Maintain course and speed. Notify me immediately of any change in status.” Taking a deep breath, Zuri turned toward the O.W.
“Evander, what does the manual say about this?”
“Not a thing.” The tall, gray-haired man frowned, walking close behind the commander. “I don’t think anyone ever anticipated anything like this happening. Scanners always picked up the ships AFTER we’d made radio contact.”
Evander was one of the oldest on board the Brighid. His primary title was Chief of Maintenance. His job was to oversee upkeep of all mechanical systems on the spacecraft. It was a huge job that required enormous attention to detail. He had under him a staff of technicians who were second to none, and he made sure they stayed that way. Several times he had been offered opportunities to advance above his current grade. But he had always declined, reasoning that he wasn’t ‘diplomatic enough.’ But in truth, the real reason was that he loved working on the ship. He just didn’t want to give that up. When Zuri accepted the top command position, she insisted that he take her place as captain. Reluctantly he accepted, though Zuri could tell he wasn’t comfortable doing so.
She understood and appreciated that. But she also knew that when she needed his expertise and keen perception, she could count on him. That was the main reason why she had advanced as quickly as she had within the fleet hierarchy. She had a knack for surrounding herself with the best people. Evander was the best of the best.
“OK then, forget the manual. What do you think?” Zuri sat down at her console and turned to face the display on the center screen.
“Well, first, it’s pretty clear this thing isn’t aggressive. If it was, given the fact that it evaded all our scans and just appeared out of nowhere, it probably has the capability to turn us all into un-organized matter, space dust, if it so desires. Second, the four contacts we’ve made over the years have all been benign. That is to say, not aggressive. We’ve all had roughly the same philosophy, the same desire to learn.
“Each of our cultures has faced roughly the same challenges. Each of our races has had to overcome philosophic as well as political differences on our home worlds. Had we not done so, it is highly unlikely we would have survived long enough to advance into interplanetary travel. Our ancient records explain this pretty clearly. We all have remarkably similar backgrounds.”
Evander paced slowly back and forth, hands clasped behind his back. Zuri was quite familiar with Evander’s reaction. He always maintained a calm detachment whenever he faced a challenge, be it equipment related or interpersonal. His composure helped Zuri to remain calm, even in this stressful situation.
“Since each of our cultures managed to evolve to this point,” Evander continued, “it seems reasonable to assume that other races that get this far in their evolution probably possess the same fundamental ideology. No guarantees, though.”
“Third, where would we go if we opted to avoid this confrontation? If we decided to turn tail and run, that thing could probably just materialize out in front of us, no matter which direction we chose. After all, it simply materialized there before us. No warning. No clue as to where it came from or how it got here. In other words, we can run, but we can’t hide. Looks to me like we really don’t have much choice.” Evander stop pacing and turned to face Zuri.
“I can’t fault your logic, my friend.” Zuri was relieved, but not particularly surprised that Evander had voiced what she had been thinking anyway.
“OK then.” She took a deep breath. “Com? Hook us up.” Straightening her uniform, she lowered the displays on her console and looked into the holo-cam.
“All ships. Barring objection, here’s the plan. All ships will maintain current speed. Each is to change vector to intersect the object. We will not again refer to this object as a target. The implications of that word are not appropriate to our intentions. Maintain current protocols and security levels. All ships’ captains prepare for holo-conference in two hours. S.C.O. out.”
Turning back to Evander, she added, “I don’t know about you, but I need a shower and some food!” Heading for the door, she hesitated. “Oh, and get someone to relieve Rahul in MC. He’s had a small accident.”