Alpha Rising (11 page)

“
Kingships?” Bach mumbled
under his breath.

Star smiled. “Dad was born into our space
program, like his father before him. He has more in his head than
we have stored in all of our electronic brains in the labs.”

“
I’m fascinated by what
I’ve seen so far,” Bach said. “I’d like to know more about those
lightweight solid-fuel briquettes you mentioned in the rescue
ship.”

Wilde responded before Altemus. “It’s newly
developed and takes us farther, faster on less quantity. We make
the basic briquette from processed refuse, then it’s compressed and
chemically engineered for combustion. There’s a final step that’s
not recorded anywhere. Altemus applies it, so if the Rooks hack our
intel or pirate our records they’ll never have the full formula.
They haven’t invented anything comparable, so we’re one step ahead
of them.”

“
Processed refuse? You mean
condensed compost materials?”

“
Yes, Bach. Believe it.”
Altemus nodded as he spoke. “We have minimal trash. We also aid
planet Zarephath—remove their trash and turn it into space fuel.
The Specter takes advantage of Zarephath’s less advanced culture,
using their planet as his dumpsite.”

Lavender whispered into Bach’s ear. “The
Specter is desperate to learn the last step in our fuel formula.
With our lightweight solid fuel, his army could expand into other
galaxies.” She leaned back and stopped whispering. “He experiments
with genetic engineering, cloning, bacterial warfare, anything he
can use to further his cause.”

Bach shifted in his chair. “Has it always
been this way?”

“
No,” Altemus said. “Two
generations ago, after the meteorites damaged our planet’s energy
core, our research personnel began experiencing paranormal thought
patterns that muddled their concentration. Intense investigative
efforts pointed to a supernatural phenomenon as the cause. Later,
during a meeting of Dura’s scientists, an astral projection hovered
above the table—a man’s face sheathed in yellow light. It was our
first encounter with the Specter. Through his manifestation, he
spoke as a mastermind presenting convincing solutions for
restoration of our planet and hope for future development beyond
our abilities. We welcomed him and eagerly anticipated his random
appearances, but that was his plan. He’s a genius of higher
intelligence, but not wisdom. Wrapped in the guise of pleasure, he
introduced fear, hate, and misery to our cultures. Many Durans lost
control of healthy emotions and positive thinking.”

Altemus stopped talking for a moment, as if
reliving those troubling times, then continued. “The Specter
recruited on all the planets with methodically applied, emotional
manipulation, and enticed many of our family members, friends, and
loved ones to join him. His recruits overran an undeveloped
civilization on Jenesis’s other inhabitable land mass and colonized
the continent they renamed Ulwor, the Ultimate World. They are his
mighty, self-proclaimed army, the Rooks—Rulers of other kingdoms. A
few Durans recruited by the Specter are still here, covertly
serving him, so be careful whom you trust.”

Star added, “Before the Specter appeared,
Jenesis and the ten other planets functioned ideally through
cooperation, respect, and self-control. We had no need for
leadership other than guidance and counsel from our Creator. Now
our Creator is all but forsaken.”

Wilde added, “Be forewarned. If the evil one
gets inside your head, he’ll seize your conscience and prey on
emotional weakness. In times of stress or doubt, when least wanted,
his face will manifest in the midst of your activities just to take
you off-guard. No one’s ever seen more than his face.”

“
I…” Bach cleared his
throat. “I think I saw him. Does he have refracting eyes that
hypnotically hold you?”

Wilde jumped to answer first. “Yes.”

Altemus let out a huff, “He’s already
working on you. Where did you see him?”

“
In my earthship. His face
was projected from somewhere … an apparition.”

“
I’m surprised he revealed
himself so soon,” said Wilde. “Did he speak to you?”

“
He said, ‘Follow me.’ Then
I saw him again here in the mirror in my room and he said a lot
more.”

“
He’ll be back,” Altemus
said. “Remember, when he appears your power to resist is reduced.
He creates strong delusions, but the pleasure he promises is backed
with control. He’ll manipulate your heart and mind.”

Bach shook his head with a far-off stare.
“What’s happening to my crewmates? I know they’ll resist him.”

“
They might at first,”
Lavender said, poking at her food. “But they’ll weaken over time.
Most of the planets’ inhabitants in our zone have fallen under his
mind control and no longer want Dura’s help. They await the Rooks
because of their false pleasures.”

“
How do I avoid him?” Bach
asked.

“
You don’t,” Wilde replied.
“Over time he’ll assess your vulnerability, then he’ll either back
off or relentlessly wear you down.”

*****

CHAPTER TWELVE

Bach spent the morning in the
training/recreation Skyprism undergoing physical and emotional
testing. Later, an instructor escorted him down an austere hallway
to a soundproofed, cylindrical room twelve feet in diameter. With
no idea of why he’d been taken to the small room, which was empty
except for two chairs, he reluctantly stepped inside and chose a
chair overlooking the open doorway.

Altemus arrived in a blue hovercart, closed
the door, and sat across from Bach. Saying nothing, he turned on a
hand-held data processor. The device clicked in varying sequences,
then beeped. The old man’s non-wavering, steely blue eyes held no
expression as he focused on the small data screen.

Feeling uneasy, Bach bounced the heel of his
foot up and down on the floor without realizing it.

When the elder looked up, the two couldn’t
help but look each other in the eyes in the close quarters.

Bach repeated inside his
head,
this
will
be good, this
will
be
positive.

“
I’m pleased with the
results of your tests,” Altemus said. “You’re a competent man of
honorable character.”

Bach stifled a sigh of relief. “Thank
you.”

The elder looked again at the data screen.
“Bach, I trusted you even before these tests proved me right. Now
I’d like your help in our efforts to restore order to this zone. I
welcome your fresh insight and enthusiasm.”

“
I appreciate your
trust.”

“
However,” Altemus
continued, “data shows you’re harboring a strong desire to rescue
your fiancée and crewmates.”

Bach stiffened.

“
Eliminate that goal
immediately or the Specter will use your countrymen as bait. Then
he’ll destroy your honorable spirit once he has you. You
must
understand
that.”

“
I understand.”

“
That aside, I’m giving you
free reign of our intelligence and research. You’ll gain an
understanding of Dura’s strengths and obstacles regarding our
future and the Specter’s increasing threats. Your background and
intellect are well suited to our scientific endeavors. I’ve
notified Lavender Rose to give you unrestricted access to data and
operations.” Altemus stood, as if to indicate the briefing had
ended.

Bach jumped up with a burst of nervous
energy and shook his mentor’s hand. “I won’t let you down.”

The old man nodded and opened the door.
“Stop by my office later today. You’re sure to have questions.” He
initialized his hovercart.

“
Thanks for your
confidence,” Bach said, “I’m ready to learn.” He walked away
relieved, yet continued planning to rescue his
crewmates.

#

Bach headed straight for the operations
Skyprism—Dura’s heartbeat, and headquarters for communications,
intelligence, research, and the spaceport. He’d been given a tour
of the facilities after the briefing dinner, and was assigned a
workstation in the intel center at that time. But now, having free
reign, he couldn’t wait to explore on his own. He hopped aboard one
of six rail-riding air-jets used to shuttle people and supplies
through passageways connecting the three Skyprisms.

When he stepped off the air-jet, a
half-dozen human-shaped robots moved forward to unload the
monorail-like cars. The programmable people operated machinery and
delivered supplies in response to infrared communicators set in
eye-like openings on their faceless heads. Working twice as fast as
their human counterparts, the robots floated three inches off the
floor on air-powered feet that maneuvered over and around
obstacles.

Bach next took a mechanized
walkway to the spaceport terminal where teams of employees and
robots assembled sections of a new, state-of-the-art starship that
looked somewhat like Earth’s earliest Mercury space capsule, only
ten times larger.
Awesome. That’s the huge
structure I caught a glimpse of when the dragonfly landed.
He watched for a while, then mumbled to himself,
“That’s gonna be one powerful machine. I want to be aboard when it
first traverses the zone.” Moving on, he passed a glassed-in
research lab where a dozen jumpsuited workers monitored scientific
devices he couldn’t identify.

Eager to delve into the
incredible technology, Bach was as hyped as a kid who’d received
everything on his Christmas list at once. A vacuum lift nearby
would deliver him to the upper-level intelligence center faster
than the peoplemovers, so he stepped into the sleek tube and rode
it to the third-floor work area. The spacious room looked like a
techno-wizard’s no-holds-barred science experiment with more
lasers, electronics, and gadgetry than he could have ever imagined.
The engineer in him gloated,
the candyland
of a future millennium.

On the way to his assigned
workstation he stopped at a snack area and selected a spicy brown
energy drink in a mug, then headed to the far end of the room and
sat in his work bay. Surrounded by a maze of astral electronics, he
looked for something, anything, familiar, and muttered, “Whoa. One
big hands-on experiment.” A flexible black cap hanging by no
visible means on the wall alongside the computer caught his
attention. He poked at it with his finger then pulled it from the
wall. It crackled with the sound of static electricity and seemed
to vibrate in his hand, but there were no wires or attached
devices. “What in the world?”
Looks like
one of those rubber skullcaps worn by clowns
. He examined it with a smirk.
Try it
on, Bozo.
After raising it to his head, he
hesitated.
Maybe I should ask someone
first.
He set it on the desk.
But, Altemus gave me free reign.
He picked it up again, leaned back in his chair,
looked to the right, then to the left, then scooted closer to the
workstation, took a deep breath and pulled the cap onto his head. A
hand-sized, desktop video screen lit up, and a small ball of green
light revolved around a larger, orange ball in the center of the
screen.
Oh, no, what have I
done?

A monotone female voice spoke into his ears
through the cap. “You have activated the thought cap.”

Thought cap?
he said in his head.

“
Yes.”

Hard swallow.
My thoughts are read from inside my
head?

“
Yes,” the voice
replied.

Oh, God
.

“
I am not God,” the voice
stated.

Bach lifted the cap from his head as if it
might detonate, then examined it with a wild rush of curiosity.
Feeling like a kid who’d found a secret answer box, he mentally
raced down a list of questions he had regarding his new
environment. Unsure of his standing with the Duran geniuses, he’d
kept many thoughts to himself. Now he could explore secret
territory without them knowing what was on his mind. He put the cap
on and focused on his first thought.

I notice the women of Jenesis wear the most
delightful fragrances, each different from the other. Is this a
requirement of some sort?

“
No.”

It’s strictly a pleasurable act?

“
No.”

Then what purpose?

“
Scent is a genetic
blueprint,” the voice answered.

Bach gasped.
You can identify someone by scent?

“
Yes.”

But I haven’t smelled fragrance on the
men.

“
That is
correct.”

Why?

“
Male scent genetic
identifier ceased after chemical targeting.”

Chemical targeting? What’s chemical
targeting?

“
Yes. An attempt to
eradicate our society.”

By whom?

“
The enemy,” the voice
replied.

Why?

“
To eliminate future
superior generations outside the realm of his
authority.”

Bach exhaled sharply,
wondering,
how can I word this?

“
Use normal words,” the
voice replied.

How did it happen? When did it happen?

After a brief silence the voice said,
“Processing two requests.” Then it answered, “Biological warfare.
One generation ago.”