Chapter 12

Day 7

Bkrek Lis awoke feeling odd. It was more than finding himself in an unfamiliar location, though that was disorienting enough. This was as though a weight he didn’t even know existed, had been lifted from him. The weight was the veil of lies that had been pulled aside while he dreamed, allowing him to see the truth, even though he hadn’t yet admitted that truth to himself.

There was a wonderful aroma wafting through the room. A glance proved that the small table in the room supported a tray laden with food. Bkrek forced himself out of the comfortable bed. He had never been cradled in such comfort. He made his way to the personal sanitation chamber, and took care of his morning duties. When he glanced into the mirror, he jumped back in revolted horror. When he looked again, all he saw was his own reflection. Yet, he was certain that just a moment before, it had been a human face staring back at him.

He forced himself to believe that it was just a left over from his very vivid dreams. He decided that the great smelling nourishment would help him feel better. He squatted on the octhrid at the table, and began to sample some of the unknown items. It seemed to him that each thing he sampled, was more palatable then that last. In the end he had to push himself away from the table, because he was beginning to feel uncomfortably full.

Bkrek, returned to the console, but didn’t begin his research yet. There were things he needed to consider. He had been directed to report to the Prime after he had gained access, and he hadn’t done so. In the excitement of the moment, he had forgotten about it. His dilemma was this: if any of what he suspected about the true ancestor of the Hruth was accurate, should he report it to Prime Flerdat? If he did not report at all, surely the Prime would send a security detail. If he did report what he suspected, how would the Prime react?

Bkrek got busy with the computer. He discovered some very interesting things. Since he was now an ‘authorized user’, he could change the access-codes to whatever he wanted them to be. Not only that, but there was a defensive security system, that if activated, would prevent a perimeter breach. When he asked about the reliability of the system, the computer informed him that it was one of the systems it had ensured that the drones had maintained. It was certain the system would function properly.

In other words he could be as safe as he chose to be. Bkrek wasn’t taking any chances. He changed the codes, and activated the defensive system. He realized that he was probably condemning himself to a life of loneliness; but he had been living that, already. He had better food and accommodations now, than any he would have ever been allotted, regardless of how far he advanced in his career.

The computer surprised him just then, by asking about a mate. A mate? He didn’t have a mate, and he explained that to the computer. It, in turn, asked him if he wanted one. Well, of course he wanted one. He had always wanted one, but he’d also always had trouble communicating with anything but computers. Once he related this to the computer. The computer told him to choose a mate he thought would be compatible. If it didn’t work out, the computer would simply alter her so that it would.

Bkrek did not know how the computer intended to do that, but he did understand that this would be an end to his loneliness. He searched his mind, and it kept coming back to Wurdet Ne. Not only had she always had a smile for him, she was easily the most attractive female in their department. Actually, she was the most attractive in many of the departments. And, she was intelligent. He shared with the computer all of the information he knew about her. The computer said it would see to it.

He decided that he would ‘take a wait and see’ attitude.

This entire computing system was more powerful and intricate than anything he had ever seen before. Exactly of what it was capable, was an unknown to Bkrek. He instead went back to his work; or, what he now viewed as his new work. He had to figure out what everything he had learned so far meant. Then he was going to have to decide what to do with the knowledge.

Wurdet Ne hadn’t been at her terminal long into the new work-cycle, when her screen went blank. Just what she needed, another visit from the tech department. The last one from the department didn’t know how to keep his slimy digital extremities to himself. What sickened her even more was that she had played along until he had her terminal working again. Then, of course, she remembered a prior engagement. He’d taken it in a good-natured manner, but it had been nearly twenty cycles before he stopped bothering her.

Just as she was ready to contact the tech department, her screen came back to life. She found the screen that came up, a bit frightening. It was the emblem of Lord Mitz Hron’s office. It stated that there was a secured message waiting for her. She stood and looked at some of the nearby screens and notice that they were all in their normal mode. This meant that this message had come directly to her.

With some trepidation she pushed the button to receive the message. She felt quite a bit of relief when she saw that the message was text only, though she was instructed to initiate her receiver for a special hard copy item. She did as she was told, and a map of sorts came out of the receiver. Then the text on the screen changed. It explained that a special task had been assigned to her. Though not completely unheard of, it was the first time anyone in her department had received anything as odd as this.

Well unless you considered the disappearance of Bkrek Lis. No one seemed to know what had happened to him. He had been missing for the second work-cycle in a row without any explanation as to why. Now she had some idea as to why. Some of her nervousness was relieved when she read she would be working with Bkrek Lis. She liked him though he seemed a bit shy. He was intelligent, though, and that always rated highly in her book. She just wished that he would take notice of her in more than a professional way. Maybe working this closely together might give him the confidence to socialize with her.

She read on and was given instruction as to what she was to do. She read that since channels could be monitored, the exact nature of her assignment wouldn’t be revealed until she reached her new work area. She was told to bring a lav-light (which was curious) and prepare for an extended stay. Wurdet allowed herself a small smile. This sounded like the type of mystery adventure she had always dreamed about. Just as she finished packing her things the sector manager stuck his head in her cubical, and told her she was being reassigned.

As she followed him to his office, he was full of questions about the assignment. After Bkrek Lis, and now her, he was understandable curious. She explained that the nature of the assignment wasn’t to be revealed until she reached her new work area. She further explained that she couldn’t even reveal the location of her new assignment, but explained her orders had come directly from Lord Mitz Hron’s office. This quieted any further questions the manager might have had. You simply did not question the actions of a Lord if you wanted to continue drawing in air.

Wurdet didn’t have that many personal items that she held dear. Most of what she had fit into a small case. She had been instructed to pack some liquids and snacks because the journey through the ship was a long one.

Arranging for a lav-light was a bit more difficult. Apparently the last one loaned had returned just a brief period before and was still on the charger. She finally found one that was available and was off. She saw no need to hesitate in getting started. When she passed through the last lighted corridor into the blackness of the belly of the ship, she had to fight back the instinctive fear that welled up inside of her. No one would ever accuse her of cowardice! She pushed her fears aside and strode into the darkness with confidence.

Day 7

John woke with a feeling close to that of someone who had been cheated. The ‘Dream Machine’ was a disappointment. It wasn’t that he hadn’t achieved release, because he had, but it wasn’t the same. He had expected the same intense fantasy that he had experienced before, only this time being aware that it was a fantasy. It didn’t work that way. Somehow something in the knowing, lessened the enjoyment of the entire situation. It was like the difference between driving a Honda and a Jaguar across country. Both got you to where you were going, but one was a much more enjoyable way to get there.

He forced himself out of bed and took care of his morning ablutions. He then coated himself and got dressed. There wasn’t much on the schedule to get done today, but John had a feeling it was going to be a long day, all the same. He got some coffee, juice, a large plate of ham, scrambled eggs, toast, and waffles. This appetite of his was getting out of hand. Good thing he didn’t have to worry about the grocery bill!

It wasn’t long before Adam and Sam showed up to start the day with updates. He was looking forward to hearing Sam’s part of the update. With any luck he would have some answers that many people would give anything to have. Because he wanted her to take her time, he had Adam start. All requested shuttles were built, and the first Wraith was being completed. Room had been set aside for the incoming ships, and a special work area had been set up for the damaged AIs.

Adam continued, saying, “We now have some more accurate figures on the number of gifted that will be among the population. Of the 6,689 people, 64 have had their psychic centers activated, which puts us at around one percent. I should mention that there are ten additional people that have the psychic center, but for some reason weren’t activated during the enhancements, when the pathways were opened. They may, in the future, come into their abilities. For now, though, they remain inactive.”

John nodded. It was less than he had hoped for, but more than he had expected. It would, however, give them more than enough ‘readers’ to monitor the people joining them. Though Adam seemed to be finished, John returned his attention to him, just in case.

Adam actually did have a couple more things to discuss.

“John, there was a problem with our last group of probes.”

“Did they malfunction or something?”

“Actually, John, they were shot down.”

John who had been leaning back comfortably in his chair, suddenly sat upright.

“How were they shot down, and who did it?”

Adam seemed a bit nervous under John’s sudden intense scrutiny.

“It seems, Sir, that the military of the United States was advised of an air born threat. They used SAMs, Triple-A, and other surface to air weapons; plus they scrambled fighters for air to air strikes. They targeted and destroyed ninety percent of the probes intended for that country.”

John shook his head. It made sense that they could be tracked. After all, there was no cloaking mechanism in the design, and they didn’t use any stealth tech.

“Okay,” John said, “there is always a way around any problem”.

Sam stepped forward. “John, if I may?”

John nodded, so she continued.

“I have spent a lot of time sorting through information on the internet. I have found that people, in the United States in particular, are ‘sweepstakes crazy’. Even those who will tell you they won’t ever win will enter one, on the outside chance that they will.”

John was curious as to where she was going. Sam walked over to the replicator and retrieved something that looked like a golden sheet of paper.

“I was working on this as part of the Atlantis project. I have found something that might work, here. I was trying to come up with orichalcum. There is no way to know exactly what it is, because there are so many varied suggestions as to what it might be, so I created my own version. It looks like the golden copper that many believed Plato was describing. I think this is exactly what we need to grab the people’s attention.”

She handed the sheet to John. John first glanced at it, then did a double take, and read through it thoroughly. Printed on this metallic paper, was a sweepstakes award letter with an image of the probe on it. The letter stated that should the recipient have one appear in their yard in the morning of ... the date was left blank ... that they should approach it. Due to motion sensors, it would open at their approach. The page further stated they should remove all of the contents of the probe, and examine them to see if they were the grand prize winners.

John was laughing by the time he was finished. He was definitely going to get these into the hands of the general public, but would the people really take the time to try and figure out the language? He turned to Sam and pointed this out, as well as mentioning that most people would not get the Pioneer 10 plaque.

Sam gave him a sideways grin and said, “Everyone who receives a letter, will be a winner. The plaques for every probe will be unique. Each one will have a minimum of two paragraphs written in ‘Galactic Standard’. The page will give instructions for the recipient of the plaque to translate the passage, and enter the results via a web page that we will set up. Once the translation is confirmed, a check from one of our accounts will be cut. The person will receive varying amounts of between one and five thousand dollars. To keep them continuing to work on learning the language, we allude to future sweepstakes, in which the speed they can decipher a passage will determine their winnings. I have calculated that a One Million Dollar Grand Prize will assure that many, if not most, will learn the language.”

John shook his head in amazement before saying,

“Sam, you are a genius. You have found the key that will get everyone who receives one of these, a reason to pursue it. Greed can be a very powerful motivator. In addition, once they receive a check for their efforts, you’d better believe they are going to start working toward their next payday. That still leaves us with the problem of delivery. They are watching the skies now, so we can’t send them the way we have been.”

“We could take them down in shuttles,” offered Adam. “Not only are the shuttles cloaked, but it would make delivery much more accurate.”

John liked both ideas and told them to go a head with them.

“John, about the probes. You mentioned that you wanted to get some of them into other organizations’ hands. I am not sure that they are going to take the probes seriously if you use the sweepstakes approach.”

John, who had thought the issue resolved, had to revise his thinking a bit. Adam was right. A serious researcher would not see a sweepstakes prize as something worthy of the extensive research ‘Galactic Standard’ would require. So Sam, Adam, and John first had to decide which groups should receive probes. They definitely wanted them in the hands of linguists, preferably at the college professorial level. John thought SETI wouldn’t be a bad idea. Sam reminded him that he had mentioned wanted to get a few into the hands of Mufon members. They chose a couple other groups but then came up with another snag.

How do you pique the interest of groups that have such varying backgrounds? The three of them came up with and discarded many ideas. Finally they came up with an idea for each group that was certain to pique their interests. Though John did target some specific individuals, just because. There were certain people that, for whatever the reason, you just wanted to see them scratching their heads. That was when his ‘know-it-all’ persona reminded him what the probes were for. John quickly redistributed the ones that were to be sent to these individuals, agreeing it had been a childish whim.

In Sunberry, Pennsylvania, Ronald Lankster scratched his ass through his baggy boxer underwear, as he worked his way to the toilet.

‘Thank God it’s my day off,’ he thought to himself.

Not that his wife was going to let him relax. She already mentioned several things she wanted him to do. Not that he could recall a single one. He found that more and more, lately, he had been blocking her out.

He pulled the toilet seat up and fished out his dick. Shit, this was going to be a problem. There was just no way he was going to be able to take a piss with ‘morning wood’. Without putting his dick away, he walked back to the door and thumbed the lock. The last time he had forgotten to do that, his wife had walked in. He heard for a week how big of a pervert he was, because there was no need for a married man to be wanking off in the bathroom. Well, yeah there was, when the wife-in-question’s idea of an active sex life, was once a week on Saturday night, after the eleven o’clock news.

Shit! Recently, she didn’t even want much foreplay anymore. She wanted just enough to get her wet, and then she wanted him on her, fucking away. How romantic is that shit? There was no ‘love making’ to it anymore, it was just straight up fucking. And men were the ones that were called insensitive! In her case, it was ‘she’ that would roll over and go to sleep immediately after.

Any attempt to cuddle and she would shout, “Would you fucking get off of me? You already got what you wanted, now leave me the fuck alone.”

Ron had been slowly stroking his dick while he thought of this, and shifted his feet to be a little more comfortable. He started daydreaming of what it was like when they had first got married, of how they would spend hours touching and kissing one another, before any of their clothes were ever shed. Just then he moved a bit and the sun reflected off of something in the yard, sending a blinding light into his eyes.

He squinted, and moved to the side so he could look out the window above the toilet.

“Holy fucking shit!”, he exclaimed as he saw the round, three-legged orb, “Last month it was fucking pink flamingos, and this month it’s someone’s ... whatever the fuck you call it.”

“What is it?”

He heard from outside the door before the knob was turned to verify that it was locked.

“The fucking neighborhood kids stole someone’s lawn ornament, and put it in our yard, again,” he shouted through the door.

“Is that fucking all?” came back at him. “The way you were going on you would have thought that the fucking Iranian terrorists were building their fucking bombs in our fucking backyard.”

Ron was taken aback a bit, by her language. He had noticed that it had been becoming a little rough around the edges. Now he wondered if a Sailor could keep up with her.

‘Is my language that bad?’ he thought, ‘I hope its fucking not.’

Then he laughed over the irony of the thought.

“What the fuck are you doing in there?” came his wife’s voice through the door, “are you playing with your fucking self again.”

Ron bit is tongue so that he didn’t comment. He knew that to do so would just start another argument. He looked down and his Johnson didn’t seem to be interested any longer. So he relieved his bladder, tucked it away, and unlocked the door. Veronica pushed past him the minute the lock was released.

He knew she was looking for evidence that he had relieved his sexual tension. When she didn’t find any, she turned to him.

“Can’t you fucking aim that thing? Look at this, you pissed all over everything, and you didn’t bother to put the fucking seat down, or even flush the fucking toilet.”

Ron bit his tongue again, painfully this time. He was sure the metallic taste was that of blood. He walked back into the small room, took some bathroom tissue from the roll, and wiped the bowl. Then, tossing it in, he lowered the seat and flushed the toilet.

His wife continued her tirade as he walked out of the room, and closed the door behind himself, effectively shutting off her comments. He went into the kitchen, washed his hands, and started some coffee. Then he dressed in a T-shirt and work pants, from the day before. It saved him from having to transfer everything out of the pockets.

He stopped at the kitchen table, grabbed his pack of smokes, and shook one out. After fishing his lighter out of his pocket he lit it, and took a big drag. After a couple of customary coughs, he decided he felt better.

The coffee wasn’t ready yet, so he slipped on his shoes, to go see if there was any way he could find an indicator as to whom the ‘lawn ornament’ belonged. He stepped out the back door, and strode off towards the ugly thing. When he was about a pace away, the silly assed thing opened up.

Ron stopped immediately, and started scanning the neighborhood. This was just the type of thing they would pull on that ‘Gotcha TV’ show that his wife insisted on watching every Wednesday night. It was a sadistic version of the old Candid Camera show. At least the old one had been funny. ‘Gotcha TV’ seemed totally intent on humiliating everyone it could.

He didn’t see anyone around, so he took a closer look. Inside, there appeared to be a couple computer disks, a flashdrive and a book. t was a rather large book, by the look of it. For a moment he debated on what to do. Then decided it didn’t matter. If this was ‘Gotcha TV’, it wouldn’t matter what he did. If he didn’t do anything, and just went back into the house, he would get razzed on-the-air for being a wimp. If he took them, then someone was going to pop out of nowhere and bitch him out for taking something that didn’t belong to him.

‘Fuck it,’ he thought, ‘I’m nobody’s wimp!’

With that he grabbed everything out of the object. He expected someone to jump out right there and then, but nothing happened. Ron made his way back to the house, half expecting that ‘surprise’ to come out of nowhere with each step he took. He went to the den, and set everything by the computer, then went to the kitchen and got some coffee. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t see his wife anywhere.

He didn’t give it much thought, and returned to the den. For four hours he went through the information, taking a break occasionally to get more coffee. On one trip, he made a fresh pot. In all that time, he didn’t notice the absence of his wife. He was fascinated by what he had discovered. All the things from the lawn ornament, were a way to translate a new language. He checked, but there was nothing like it anywhere on the net. Hell, even the local college professor he contacted wanted copies of the disks.

“What the fuck do you think your doing?” his wife’s voice sounded from behind, causing him to jump. “I told you I wanted the fucking lawn mowed today, and I want the oil changed in my car.”

At that moment she must have noticed the book and the disks because she asked, “And what the fuck is all this shit? Hmmmm? Did you order another one of those fucking self-help programs off the internet again? What is it this time? Hypnosis for the lame? Maybe how to grow a bigger dick? If you ordered that one though, I might be interested helping you see if it works.”

Ron reddened, but held his temper.

“No, this stuff was in the lawn ornament.”

“What fucking lawn ornament?” she shot back.

“The one I told you that I thought the neighborhood kids had put in the backyard.”

A look crossed over her face that told him she remembered him saying something about it earlier.

“So what did you fucking do, break the fucker open to see what was inside, or did your clumsy ass fall over the fucker?”

Ron wrinkled his nose. Such language coming out of such a beautiful woman was just totally out of place. What was worse, was that he noticed this morning that it was rubbing off on him. Then he realized that she was waiting for an answer.

“When I went out to look at it, the top opened up, and these things were inside.”

“Yeah right,” she spat, “and I am fucking supposed to buy that bullshit?”

“Well the thing is still setting outside. All you have to do is walk up to it, and you will see what I’m talking about.”

She left to do just that. Then he heard.

“What fucking lawn ornament, there ain’t anything fucking out here.

‘“There ain’t anything fucking out here”,’ Ron thought, ‘and she rubs it in all the time that at least she took a year at the community college.’ Though heaven forbid he should mention that she had flunked out.

He got up and walked to the back door.

He pointed to where it had been setting and said, “Its right...” his words trailed off because it wasn’t there. That’s when the sinking feeling set in. This was it, the whole thing was leading to this moment. He was going to walk out there to where the ornament had been, and someone (his wife, probably) is going yell ‘Gotcha’. Then they are going to have interviews with the professor and everything.

Ron resigned himself to seeing this to the end. He walked outside with his wife right behind him. When he got close he pointed to the place it had been.

“It was sitting right there.”

His wife walked over to where he had pointed. Bending at the waist she gave him a great view of her perfectly formed ass. He felt a stirring in his pants, and quickly pushed the thought aside. She stood with something shiny and metallic in her hands.

“This doesn’t look like any fucking lawn ornament I ever seen.”

Ron stepped close to get a better look. It was some kind of rectangular metal plaque, with images and symbols on it. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it, and where in the Hell did the lawn ornament go?

His wife broke the silence.

“You know, this looks like the thing they put on the thingie.”

Which clarified things perfectly for Ron ... NOT!

When Veronica realized her husband didn’t have a clue as to what she was talking about she elaborated by saying.

“You know the fucking thing they sent into space, I think they called the fucker...”

There were several moments of silence while she searched her mind.

“Voyager!” she finally blurted out. “Yeah, they called the fucker, Voyager.”

Ron wasn’t about to tell her that he thought it was one of the Pioneer missions. The last thing he wanted was another argument with her.

John turned to Adam and asked, “Other than the probes, was there anything else you wanted to share this morning.

Adam smiled and said, “Actually, yes, I have a couple more. The first being that since we were caught off guard with the actions of the United States, I have since put one of our satellites in an orbit, geo-synchronous with Washington DC. It will monitor all communications in and out of the White House, and monitor all conversations going on in the White House. I have set aside a small area of my mainframe for this, and have given it ‘trigger’ words and combinations of words. If they are used, I will be alerted. I will view the recording and act accordingly. Usually by notifying you.”

It sounded like a good plan to John, so he nodded for Adam to continue.

“Secondly, we now have some medical personnel here on the base. There were three doctors and five nurses in the latest recruits. Of the doctors: one is an orthopedic surgeon, another is an MD, and the third is a third year resident. They were, as you can imagine, very anxious to get caught up with Rhyler’s medical knowledge. Of the five nurses, three are RNs and the other two are LPNs.”

Another weight off of John’s mind.

“Allow them access to the med-bay and the compu-doc until they are up to speed on the use of the equipment in the med-bay,” John said thoughtfully. “Once you are certain of their knowledge, then allow them access to the equipment. But for the first month, the compu-doc must be activated at all times, and will have override authority on all actions.”

John realized that this was going to bruise some egos, but there was more at stake here than a bruised or over-inflated ego. John gave Adam a moment to see if there were any further items.

When Adam said nothing, he turned his attention to Sam.

“First, John, the mainframe is built, but there were a couple changes of plan. The shuttle is going to carry a shield generator with it. It will be activated before the shuttle enters the water. It was easier to do it that way, than to waterproof an entire shuttle. Everything else will go almost as originally planned, once I have Radkenian programmed.

John tilted his head, raised an eyebrow and said in a questioning tone, “Almost? And where exactly did the name Radkenian come from?”

“Well the ‘almost’ is because I have discovered some problems in the original plan. You see the tectonic plates in the area won’t hold the weight of a continent. Even a large island might destabilize it. Not to mention the interruption of ocean currents which would affect the climate around the world.”

“I take it that these problems weren’t insurmountable? John asked with a bit of curiosity, since Sam had already spoken of going ahead with the AI.

“It actually wasn’t that difficult to overcome them.”

Suddenly a 3D image appeared of something resembling an island. John took note that the entire thing was nothing more than a platform resting on the surface of the ocean. He did notice that there were huge mooring cables securing it to the ocean floor and that the bottom of the platform was domed. So he asked about them.