Chapter 1

Beginnings and Endings

Mirzik walked thoughtfully through one of the carefully cultivated fields. The fields were one of his favorite places to be on Obrinak. It was one of the few places such vast cultivated plains were found. Each cycle, ever since he had discovered how and where he would spend his term of service, Mirzik had been coming to visit the fields. Today was that last in which he would be able to indulge himself.

Tomorrow, his term of service began, and his life would no longer be his.

His father had beamed when the official notice had arrived. Of the two of them, his father was the only one who thought he should spend his term of service on a ship. This was also the reason that of the two of them, his father was the only one who was happy.

“After all,” his father claimed, “time on a ship will make him mature in a way that no other service could.”

For most of his life Mirzik had been forced to listen to his father’s tales. He had heard all too often of his father’s term of service on a battle cruiser. His father would spin tales of how he had worked his way up through the ranks, and how they had conquered this world, or suppressed an uprising on that one.

That was, until his father lost a leg in battle. Even that had become a tale in and of itself: the evil ungrateful Grundrons of Callis-five, and the horrible genetic aberrations they had created to fight by their side. How one of the four-legged aberrations had bitten the leg off in a single bite, yet he had continued to fight until loss of fluids cost him his consciousness. Mirzik could repeat, verbatim, most of his father’s stories, including the one in which he had lost his leg.

Because of his father’s lost mobility, he had been unable to properly perform his duties on the battleship. The lessened mobility also meant he had to be released from his term of service, early. His father had found a government position, which had appealed to him, when he returned home. He had since spent his life working his way up through the ranks there, as well.

In Mirzik’s opinion, his father wanted to finish his term of service vicariously through his son, by having Mirzik serve on a ship. His father spoke of the challenges, the adventures, and the conquests. He spoke very highly of the esprit-de-corps of one’s fellow crewmates.

Mirzik wanted none of it. He liked his solitude. He had applied as a horticulturist. He could tell a variety plant life, simply by its distinctive smell. In addition, he knew the benefits of each and every plant, and what was required to grow it to its optimum potential.

The previous lunar cycle he had taken the exams for service. He knew he’d scored very high on every question that had to do with horticulture. He knew the answer to every question. Whereas, in other areas of the test, he knew next to nothing. This was especially evident, when it came to anything having to do with the workings of a ship.

He had been stunned into silence when he heard he was to be assigned to a ship. Deep down, regardless of what the notice had said, Mirzik knew this was his father’s doing. He knew that the council had listened to his father. His father had tremendous influence with them, having held a government office for so many planet-cycles.

The notice he received stated that the fields were fully automated. The only service employees they needed, were the ones in maintenance that took care of the drones. This was their lame explanation as to why there weren’t any openings in that department.

If that was true, then why was the horticulture department constantly sending out videos begging for applicants?

Two galaxies away, there was a planet far too obscure and primitive to have been noticed by anyone of importance. Yet, on that primitive planet, events were in motion that would change the course of that galaxy ... and perhaps many other galaxies as well.

In one of the many countries, which were ruled independently of each other, John Whitmore sat in his office. He was putting some final touches to a presentation for his company’s largest client.

The phone on his desk rang. After talking on the phone for several minutes, he hung up the receiver, and slumped down into his chair.

He hadn’t been home to visit his parents in several years, but news of their death was still devastating. His boss chose that time to walk into his office, unannounced.

After hearing the story, John’s boss thought that he should have someone else make the presentation. John was having none of it. This office complex had been his baby since its conception, and he planned to see it through to the end.

Well, he did see it through ‘till the acceptance of the design and the start of construction. But that was when things in John’s life went sideways. The lawyer, whom John had hired to settle his parents estate, called with some problems.

It seemed there were several liens against the property and the machinery, including one against the crop that was still in the field.

John sighed heavily. It looked like he was going to have to go back, again. He had hoped that his parent’s funeral would be the last time he would have to be in his hometown.

John hired men to bring in the crop, as he began liquidating his assets, to pay off the many debts his father had accumulated. Of course, he and his father had never gotten along very well, even when he was growing up. His father thought it was John’s obligation to take over the family farm when he was an adult.

Their last true conversation happened after John had graduated college in the top three percent of his class. It had been the best and worst night of his life, thus far.

After the graduation ceremony, his father started going off about how he wanted John to come back to manage the farm. John informed his father that he already had been offered a job as a design engineer.

The discussion had turned into a heated argument. They came to an impasse when neither of them would see the others point of view. It had nearly come to blows before his mother had stepped between them to stop it. John had kept in touch with his mother and over the years he had gone back for holidays.

Those had always been stressful times. He and his father never spoke again after that night ... well, other than to ask for something to be passed at Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner. His mother had always tried to act as peacemaker, trying to get the family back together again. He and his father were both too stubborn to let go of their animosities. Now John had to live with the fact that he and his father had never had the chance to make peace.

Day One

It is has been said: for every beginning there must be an ending.

If that is true, then it must also be true, that for every ending there must be a beginning.

Mirzik grumbled to himself. This was the third time this lunar cycle he had been sent to manually sanitize the waste disposal unit. What a waste of time, it wasn’t as though the system didn’t atomize the waste and sanitize the entire area after each use. All he had done to end up stooped over this disposal, was to turn from his monitor to report to the captain. How was he supposed to know that G-rad had come up behind him to spy over his shoulder while he worked?

Mirzik didn’t even want to be here. He didn’t mean being stooping over a disposal polishing it till gleamed, though there was that too. He had never wanted to be on this insufferable ship. He didn’t care about space, and he had never wanted to leave his home planet. All he wanted was to be near the fragrant fields of Obrinak.

‘Civil service, my orifices!’ he thought.

This was his father’s way of separating him from everything he loved. His father had already exiled his mother. His father was certain that it was his mother who had guided his efforts toward plants, which was ridiculous. His mother had been a member of the elite Red Guard and was still a warrior in the Obrinak reserves. His father was just too blinded by his own wants to see that the son was not the father.

He was just as certain that his father was behind the letter, too. Mirzik knew it. The fields were fully automated, what a load of unprocessed defecation. You could spend days out there in the fields, and never see a single drone. You saw individuals, occasionally, working out there. They were testing the soil. They were measuring and recording the plant growth. Talk to any one of them, and they would tell you how desperate they were for more help in the fields.

Mirzik stretched his spine before moving to the cleansing stall. Creaks of complaint, and a couple loud pops could be heard, as things moved back into normal positions. He knew the forceful realignment came from being in the same position for much too long at a time.

John Whitmore was having another sleepless night. They were far from uncommon, now. In fact, sleepless nights had become the norm. He opened the dormer window of his room, and crawled out onto the roof. Something he had done so many times before ... as a child, as a teen, and now as an adult.

He couldn’t bring himself to sleep in ‘his parents’ room. Instead he left it the way it was while they were alive, allowed him to feel just a little closer to them. Though he did go in every week and dust, he was careful to put everything back in the exact spot from which he had moved it.

John knew he had no one to blame for his present predicament, other than himself. He could have very easily stayed in Chicago, and let the lawyers take care of the estate. Why in the hell did he feel so damn obligated to come back here?

He looked up to the heavens, where he had found so much solace as a child. Even from the heavens the answers weren’t forthcoming. Before long, he was mentally logging and naming the familiar constellations. The world around him, and his problems, first shrank to manageable size and then were forgotten completely.

The small scout ship entered Earth’s atmosphere, streaking toward what the inhabitants called the Midwest. The field in which it planned to set down, was in the state of Illinois, near the Indiana border. The four-man-crew, exhausted from their journey, had sought out a place on the dark side of the planet. They knew that the primitive natives took their sleep cycle during these dark times.

Even though regulations stated that any ship of the fleet were not to land on any inhabited planet outside of the Council’s military control, the Captain felt relatively secure in landing, and taking a short rest cycle. The elder crew members had done this on more than one occasion, and had never been spotted by the primitives. Therefore, the commander of the crew saw little reason not to continue their rebellious ways.

In his and the senior members of the crew’s opinion, what the Council didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. If Mirzik gave them any indication that he was going to report them ... well, they could just open the airlock while he was in it. This wouldn’t be the first time they’d had to come up with accidental circumstances to explain a new crewman’s demise.

They had little to worry about the newest member of their crew. He was too busy becoming overwhelmed by the feeling of being trapped. He had been on the ship for fourteen lunar cycles, and wanted off ... at any cost.

On his home planet, he could wander the open areas, and enjoy the sky. On this ship, this tortuously confined ship upon which he had been forced to serve. It was unlikely that one could take more than two steps without running into one of the other crew members. Let alone pass excrement without everyone else knowing.

And of the Farcle excrement that passed for crew, G-rad was the worst. G-rad was always finding extra duties for him whenever anything happened. Mirzik, exhausted and mentally stressed like he had never been before, crawled into one of the capsule like containers. This was where he was supposed to spend his rest cycle in electronically enhanced rest. However, unlike the others, he had decided to fake his rest cycle. He didn’t initiate the rest enhancement. He was determined to get off this damnable craft while he had the chance.

John had spent another drudging day of mindless work on the farm. A hell of a lot of good his PHD in engineering was doing him now. Although physically tired, his mind was alert and focused. Whatever had possessed him to come back to the place he had fought so hard to escape as a youth, was beyond him. Well, that wasn’t exactly true.

First he had heard of his parents’ death in a car crash. Then, shortly after, he had also been given notice that the farm was about to be foreclosed. What did he do? He had jumped onto his noble steed (okay ... into his SUV) and rushed back to save the day. He wondered if his father was out there somewhere looking down with any pride, for him having succeeded in saving the farm. He went broke, personally, in the process; but he’d saved the farm.

After having invested all of his substantial savings into paying off the farm of all of its debts, he saw no choice but to work the ground he had grown to hate so completely as a child. Okay, having to been so much time away from his work and losing his job was an influencing factor. The only investment that remained was his retirement account. Fortunately, he had been able to leave that untouched.

John was still lost in these thoughts, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, John watched as a shimmering object came streaking down out of the sky. It seemed to be slowing, as it dropped closer to the ground. He sat in total amazement, as the object continued to grow larger.

It was moving too slowly to be a meteor, and he had never seen any type of military craft that not only glowed, but had that particular and peculiar shape. The majority of the ship was a huge sphere. Yet out of what John assumed to be the front of the craft, there was a triangular shape jutting out. John realized that wasn’t quite accurate. It was like one side of a triangle had a semicircular shape the size of the sphere cut out of it, before it was attached to the sphere.

John got a tickling at the back of his mind. There was something about the shape of the craft that was familiar. Before he could dismiss the idea, a scene from an eighties movies called ‘Starman’ flashed through his mind. The ship before him was damned close to what they portrayed in the film.

Maybe that’s why John made the mental assumption that the triangular area was where the pilot would be located. It was a very Earthling-like assumption, but in this case, it happened to be accurate. By the time John had finished these observations, the ship was almost on top of him, literally.

The ship came to a hover about a hundred yards away, and landed in his field. An excitement welled up inside of him. It inflamed his spirit, as nothing had, since he’d left for college years ago. It radiated throughout his body stimulating every nerve ending.

He scrambled back inside the dormer window. His eyes darted around the room, trying to locate his shirt and boots in the darkness.

He found his pants first, and pulled them on. John found his boots next. Rather, he found them when he stumbled over them. He slipped into them, ignoring his socks. His T-shirt he donned, on his way downstairs. He was intent on seeing what was in his field.

When he missed a turn and ran into the wall, he took a moment to get his shirt pulled over his head properly, before continuing.

While the other crewmen were in ‘enhanced sleep’ Mirzik carefully crept out of his capsule. His entire being was focused on not making a sound. He spared a moment to look at the other mindless drones, who were his crew mates. They simply did what they were told, and were happy to do it.

Oh, sure, they broke a token rule every now and again so that they could consider themselves renegades ... like landing on this planet without orders ... but they were drones, all the same. His expression and the scent that issued from him could not be confused for anything other than disgust. Then his mind grabbed hold of the idea that he would soon be free! Mirzik headed for the hatch.

If his home world had given any thought to an individual’s needs or wants, they probably would have ruled Mirzik unsuitable for space travel because of mental instabilities. However, his home world had more of a hive mentality. It seemed to be their opinion that the good of the whole outweighed the good of the individual. Citizens were sorted into jobs according to their mental capabilities, and the availability of such jobs. No one ever once gave any thought to the individuals’ ability to handle the stresses of such jobs.

Their oversight was going to cost them much more than personnel, this time. Mirzik’s people were going to lose some of the technology they coveted so. For countless ages, his people had so carefully gained and guarded their technology. Whether it was stolen, or obtained through conquest, it made little difference to them.

Mirzik gave no thought to the fact that he was on an alien planet. He didn’t care that the atmosphere might be of a different pressure, or elemental content. He gave not a single thought to securing the inner hatch to protect the rest of the ship, before opening the outer hatch.

His only thought through it all, was to return to his beloved fields of Obrinak. It wasn’t until pain wracked his body, that Mirzik realized, too late, what he had done. But the pain was too complete for him to attempt to take any action, including the closing of the hatch.

As darkness overtook his mind, Mirzik felt as though he was being transported. When he opened his eyes, Mirzik found himself in his favorite fragrant field.

He started striding away purposely when he noticed that Gontha was there. Gontha darted around behind him, occasionally nipping at his heal in his usual playful way.

Once again, Mirzik gave no thought to the fact that Gontha’s life cycle had ceased, a full planet’s cycle before he had begun his service, and was assigned to the scout ship.

Mirzik was happy, now.

Little else mattered.

John approached the craft carefully. He had no idea if his approach would be considered a hostile action, or if the ship carried any residual heat from entry into the atmosphere, or even any dangerous radiation. John finally worked his way close enough to reach out and touch the ship. He extended his arm very slowly, and at long last him fingers touched the surface of the ship. John was amazed! Although the ship was warm to the touch, it was also soft and supple, almost as though it was a human skin.

He walked around the ship, which turned out to be much larger than he had originally thought. After stepping it off he figured it had to be at least fifty feet long. He guessed it was about thirty feet wide and around twenty-five feet tall. The ship sat on three stout, short legs, which had compacted the soil under them by several inches.

He had just finished his first circuit around the ship, he heard a slight humming sound. It was coming from an area of the spherical section, just ahead. John approached cautiously, not knowing what to expect. Suddenly, an imperfection appeared on the surface of the ship, like a darkened dimple. The dimple elongated, and the ends moved away from each other creating a line. When the ends of imperfection reconnected, John realized it had formed the outline of a door, and he took several steps backwards.

The door seemed to pull inward slightly, and then slide to the side. There was a sucking sound as John figured atmosphere was rushing in. Suddenly, there was a high-pitched squealing that caused John to cover his ears, because it was very painful.

As unexpectedly as it had started, the squealing abruptly ceased. The silence around the ship was now almost palpable. John stood there for an uncounted period of time.

Time, which normally seemed to rule his every moment, now appeared to have come to a complete halt.

Setting before him was an alien spacecraft with an open door. It could be an invitation, or it could be a trap. John felt torn between his curiosity, and his basic need for survival. Before he was even aware he had made a choice, his feet were moving him toward the ship.

John cautiously stepped up to the hatch. As he stepped through, John encountered by his first alien. Much to his relief, it was laying on the floor of the ship, with a yellow viscous substance oozing out of what appeared to be its mouth. John skirted the dead alien, but took note of its appearance.

It must have stood nearly seven feet tall. Four of its extremities could be considered legs, because they ended in round fleshy platforms, similar in appearance to an elephant’s foot. The other two extremities ended in what could only be considered hands. They were very elongated, and had only four digits each. The digits, or fingers if you will, had to be at least ten inches long.

John couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face. He had dated several women who had been convinced you could tell the size of a man’s penis, by the size of his hands. He couldn’t help, but wonder what they would think of the hands on this guy, or was this a female? It wasn’t wearing any clothing, but there didn’t appear to be any outward appearance of sexual features.

John stepped past it and into the ship. He turned toward what he thought of as the protruding ‘nose’ of the craft. He decided earlier that it must be the bridge. This ship had a simple layout, and it was not difficult to find the area he was seeking. When he reached the console, there were several monitors active.

Each monitor was busy scrolling through information. Though the information flashed by so quickly, that it was impossible to see exactly what was being scanned. John did believe he recognized a couple of web sites including Babel Fish. It was then that he realized that the ship was scanning Earth’s internet, for information.

John was startled when a masculine voice came from nowhere, and asked in a questioning tone, “English?”

John spun around to find that he was still alone, but knew he had heard a voice.

The voice again spoke, asking, “Do you speak English?”

Without thinking, John answered, “Yes.”

The voice returned, “Bipedal, humanoid, genetically unaltered. Interesting!”

John heard himself asking, “Excuse me, but who are you?” no longer caring that he was speaking to an empty room.

There was a moment of silence before the voice returned.

“As I understand your question, I must answer it by saying that I have no name. Perhaps a better question might be: ‘what am I?’”

“Okay,” John sighed. He was not really interested in to playing word games. “What are you?”

“I’m this ship’s artificial intelligence.”

“Amazing,” John thought aloud.

“Indeed,” answered the AI. “But, for the moment, I must ask you a few questions.”

John thought for a moment, then answered, “Okay, but only if you agree to answer mine, afterward.”

“Agreed,” replied the AI.

“The first thing I need to know,” the AI began, “is how did you come to have possession of this scout ship?”

“I’m not quite sure,” John answered honestly. “My best guess would be by mishap.”

“Mishap,” the AI asked in a confused tone?

John looked thoughtful for a moment, “Do you have video surveillance that records what happens in, or around, this ship?”

“Affirmative,” answered the AI.

“Okay,” said John feeling he was getting somewhere, “access your video recording of the inner and outer hatch for the last fifteen minutes.”

“I am unable to respond to your request,” replied the AI.

“I wonder why that is,” John thought aloud not expecting a reply.

“The Hruth,” the AI stated, “they have denied me access to many of the ship’s systems. The Hruth did this immediately upon taking control of the planet where I was docked. In fact, they denied all AI’s that were captured from any communication with one another.”

The way the AI had pronounced Hruth sounded almost like someone clearing their throat before speaking. John began to pace back and forth as he always did when he was thinking.

“Okay. Is there some way for us to unlock your access to these systems?”

There were several moments of silence.

John halted his pacing, saying, “Is there a problem?”

“May I vocalize my dilemma?” asked the AI.

“Certainly,” answered John.

He was no longer giving any thought to the fact that he was talking to a computer. In actual fact, he wasn’t, though he had no way of knowing that fact.

“Logic dictates that since you are now the only living being on this ship, you are the new Commander. However, logic does not rule over every circumstance. There could be an unknown alternative. A situation that I could not possible predict through logic. A circumstance which, while leaving you the only living entity on this ship, still would not make you the proper person to issue commands.”

John laughed aloud when he realized that the AI not only thought like a human, but also thought ‘outside the box’.

“May I make a suggestion,” asked John?

“Certainly,” replied the AI.

“Okay, try this,” John said thoughtfully. “Nominally accept my command to unlock your access to the video feeds. After reviewing them, if you find that I’m not the person that should be in command, you can reinstate the lockout command.”

The AI was silent for a moment, than said, “That is an acceptable alternative.”

“So what exactly is it I need to do now,” asked John?

“You would have to give me a direct order that would allow me access to my video feeds.”

“Okay,” John said with a smile, “that sounds simple enough. AI, you may now unlock your access to all video feeds. I give you access to all of them.”

“Affirmative,” the AI said in answer.

John looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, “Check the video feeds for the last fifteen to twenty minutes, and any movement by the Hruth, especially around the outside hatch.”

The video screens started flashing pictures as they ran the video feeds backwards at high speed. Then without warning the screen started playing video at real time speeds. John stood opened mouthed as he watched himself walk across his field toward the camera and what he assumed was the ship.

The view switched to a creature much like that which he had passed in the hatchway. It was exiting a cylindrical object. There were three others in similar pods, apparently sleeping.

The view switched back to an exterior shot, and John was very close to the ship by then.

A flicker of the screen, and the view was back to the dimly lit interior of the ship. The creature seemed to be moving carefully. It was making strange sounds as it moved. The four leg-like appendages seemed to rotate and pivot at the waist of the creature. Science fiction definitely didn’t have that part of it right.

The perspective changed again, and he was looking at himself. He watched as he ran his hand over the surface of the ship, and began his walk around it.

Again the view changed to the interior of the ship. The creature was operating a panel on a wall. A door moved inward slightly, and then slid to the side.

John realized that it must be the inner door to the hatch.

The thing was still making odd noises, as it moved to a solid wall with a similar lighted panel on it. It pressed its elongated hand to the panel.

The view became an external one, and John watched himself taking several steps backwards.

John was finding all of the view changes a bit dizzying, but managed to continue watching the monitor as it switched back to a view of the alien. John watched as the hatch slid to the side.

Once again, John had to cover his ears as the creature screamed due to the atmospheric differences. A couple moments later he watched himself step through the outside hatch and examine the creature lying on the floor.

The view then switched to an outside view as it panned a full 360 degrees.

The camera angle changed one final time. John saw himself standing in front of the monitors, as they scanned what he thought was the internet. At this point the monitors went blank.

“It appears that your assumption of your being in possession of the ship due to mishap was very close to being accurate. I will list it as you taking possession, due to operator error. Welcome aboard, Commander,” the AI stated in a tone that allowed no argument. “Now that your Command has been established, what are the questions you wanted answered?”

“Before anything else, was that thing talking before it opened the hatch.”

“Affirmative, Commander,” answered the AI “It kept repeating its word for freedom. Then, just before opening the outer hatch, it mentioned the fields of Obrinak, though I’m not familiar with the reference.”

John gave this a moment of thought, before deciding that it truly wasn’t important.

“I guess the best way to do this,” John began, “would be in chronological order. Once again my questions are going to be based on my assumptions.”