First Admiral 02 The Burning Sun (17 page)

Wondering where the line of constant questioning was going, Marilla managed to forget that Marrhus Lokkrien was a Bardomil; the traditional enemy of her Thexxian blood. As a Bardomil, Marilla distrusted and was wary of the Second Admiral. Yet, as a Second Admiral, Marilla knew that she not only had to obey his orders, but she also had developed a rather reluctant admiration for him. He didn’t have to travel through the Aquarius to sit with her in the Intelligence Section. He didn’t have to explain that he shared her suspicions. And, he surely didn’t have to sit down and try to work out what he thought was happening with her.

“So, we are looking for a system with a yellow dwarf star and a life-bearing planet some one hundred and fifty million kilometres away from it,” Lokkrien theorised, “Do we have such a system in our territory?”

“We have several systems that are similar to Artreaus in Alliance held space, Admiral,” Marilla replied, “But, none of them lie on the predicted course of the weapon,” she added sadly.

“Show me,” Lokkrien asked.

With a few deft stabs at the portable keypad, Marilla called up the three-dimensional schematic of the course that she had projected from the encounter with the Clements. From that location, Marilla had extrapolated a path that stretched all the way through Alliance held territory to the unclaimed systems beyond New Thexxia.

“There is nothing on that course even remotely similar to Artreaus, sir,” Marilla said reluctantly.

“Then, obviously, this weapon must be taking another route,” Lokkrien replied, staring at the schematic.

“Because it has independent propulsion capability,” Marilla added, suddenly feeling rather stupid for not considering that option when she herself had suggested it based on her video analysis.

“Precisely,” Lokkrien smiled, “so, how many systems do we have in Alliance space with a yellow dwarf star and a life-bearing planet at one hundred and fifty million kilometres distant?” Lokkrien asked.

Tapping on her keypad once more, Marilla dismissed the flawed projected course image and accessed the Astrophysical database.

“Three systems sir: Stegmar, Terra and Palyon,” Marilla replied innocently.

Marrhus Lokkrien flinched in his seat as if he’d been shot by a pulsar-pistol at the realisation that had just struck him.

“Technician Thapes, if you were a vain and arrogant Bardomil Empress who had just lost an entire Imperial Fleet to First Admiral Caudwell, how would you take personal revenge for that?” Lokkrien said calmly, the tension in the conversation racking up several notches as Marilla listened.

“I’d be mighty angry, sir, and I’d want to kill him?” Marilla said speculatively.

“But, to kill him, you’d have to get through the entire Alliance Fleet, so what’s the next best thing?”

“I’d want to kill his family, sir!” the realisation suddenly struck Marilla, “and his family and his whole human species are on Terra!”

“And, we have a surveillance asset close to Terra,” Lokkrien answered grabbing the keypad from Marilla.

Quickly, Lokkrien tapped in his personal code and was connected to the Ranger that orbited over Planet Earth to monitor and shelter Billy Caudwell’s double, Technician Jedithram Prust. A moment later, the face of the Commander of the surveillance Ranger appeared on a two dimensional projection on the Display Screen.

“Admiral, it’s an honour, sir; how can we be of service to you?” the nervous Thexxian Ship Commander stammered.

“Scan the yellow dwarf star at the heart of the Terran system, quickly,” Lokkrien barked the command.

“But, sir…” the Ship Commander stammered again.

“Just do it!” Lokkrien snarled.

“Yes, sir!” the Ship Commander yelped like a frightened schoolboy and his image vanished to be replaced by that of the burning yellow orb of the Earth’s sun.

“Scanning, sir,” the disembodied voice continued.

Looking anxiously at the yellow star at the heart of the Terran system, Lokkrien could see nothing out of the ordinary. The sun seemed to be just the same as thousands of other yellow dwarves he had personally encountered in his career.

“Sir, we’re picking up a massive increase in Lissian radiation emissions from the star,” the voice of the Ship Commander broke over the image, “but, this star doesn’t produce any Lissian…” he added in confusion.

“No, no, no, no!” Lokkrien hissed through gritted teeth as he watched the yellow dwarf closely.

“There sir, top right,” Marilla instructed, drawing Lokkrien’s attention to an area of the star that seemed to be turning a deeper orange colour.

“Oh no, you do not,” Lokkrien challenged the image as the orange patch seemed to convulse.

Slowly, at first, the great orange blister on the surface of the sun began to spread as the Bardomil weapon destabilised the magnetic polarity of the star. With growing horror, Thapes and Lokkrien sat motionless as the blister quickly expanded and then suddenly burst, throwing great spumes of solar material out into space. The long, snaking finger-like tendrils seethed out into the darkness of space and began their journey towards the unsuspecting blue planet that lay just a shade less than one hundred and fifty million kilometres away.

“Sir, it’s…” the horrified Marilla announced pointing to the image.

“Yes, I know Technician Thapes, I can see it,” Lokkrien replied, stabbing the keypad once again, “Ship Commander get the First Admiral off that planet immediately!”

“But, sir…” the Ship Commander replied, “I don’t have the authority to…” he pleaded for understanding.

“Never mind,” Marrhus Lokkrien interrupted the Ship Commander as he watched more and more solar material spewing out from the sun, “How long did it take to destroy Collizon, Technician Thapes?”

“About two Terran hours,” Marilla replied still staring aghast at the drama unfolding on the Display Screen.

Tapping the keypad again, Lokkrien began to bark orders.

“Ship Commander,” Lokkrien contacted the ‘Captain’ of the Aquarius, “make ready for immediate Trion Drive to the Terran system.”

“Acknowledged,” the Aquarius Ship Commander replied professionally having learned not to question orders.

“Senior Intelligence Officer Sownus,” Lokkrien tapped the keypad once more, “report to the War Room immediately.”

“Sir, acknowledging,” the familiar voice of Karap Sownus responded, “Do we have a problem?”

“That Bardomil emitter weapon Technician Thapes told us about has just activated in the Terran system,” Lokkrien answered.

“But, the First Admiral…” Sownus suddenly realised the significance, “on my way,” he added.

“Technician Thapes,” Lokkrien broke Marilla out of her morbid fascination with the great plumes of super-heated plasma hurtling away from the Terran sun, “you’re with me,” Lokkrien ordered.

“Sir!” Marilla barked, snapping out of her fascination.

“Come on, we have to get to Terra and secure the First Admiral before it’s too late,” Lokkrien announced and dashed off towards the nearest Teleport station.

Marilla Thapes was close behind.

Chapter 22

Planet Earth

Elizabeth Caudwell, nursing her cup of scalding hot tea, sat on the battered brown family sofa for the last time and contemplated the worn and untidy street that had been her home for the last five years. When this particular tea break was over, the long-serving family sofa was being consigned to the local rubbish dump. The new house in the country was almost ready. It had taken Elizabeth several weeks to get it just right, but now she was happy with it. And, now it was nearly time to move in to the new property. The lease agreement on their current home, a Council property, was due to expire in three days. The decorators were due to finish the new kitchen the day after tomorrow giving the Caudwell’s a full day to settle into the new property before surrendering the keys and rent book of their old home. Everything in the new house was new, and, to John Caudwell’s mind, just a little bit too expensive for his tastes. But, Elizabeth didn’t care. She had always wanted a home that she had designed and decorated to her tastes and specifications. She had grown tired of living in rented houses where a landlord’s rules stifled her creative and decorative aspirations. The money in the bank from her writing now made those aspirations a reality and she was going to let her imagination run riot.

Outside the large living room window, the young removal men were kicking a wad of newspaper around like a football on the narrow front lawn that Billy had hated mowing. It had been a thankless task for young Billy. The lawn was more weed than grass, and every mowing seemed to produce more weeds and dandelions to be culled with a hand held trowel. That was one job Billy certainly wouldn’t miss, Elizabeth considered, sipping the scalding sweet liquid from the dark blue mug. The noise from the rowdy young removal men distracted Elizabeth from her thoughts for a moment. An older man, tough overweight and world weary, the gang leader, perched precariously on the three bar fence that divided the asphalt public footway from their front lawn. Smoking a rolled up cigarette, the gang leader smiled and nodded to Elizabeth who smiled in reply. The gang leader had recognised her from the portrait on the back cover of her book. Like hundreds of thousands of husbands and fathers he had secretly read “My Lost Little Angel”. He himself had lost a child of a few days, many years before, and had felt the anger, outrage and powerlessness. Elizabeth’s book had helped his wife, even these many years later, and gave him a window into what she had never really been able to explain to him.

Thus, when the football playing young men’s language became a bit colourful, the older man would bark them into a more restrained respectful vocabulary. However, the florid language of a few vigorous, scuffling young men was not likely to be a major distraction this day. The real worry of Elizabeth Caudwell lay in an innocuous brown envelope that lay on the sofa next to her. Elizabeth Caudwell had read the very polite very formal letter nearly a dozen times. It had been over two hours since the tired and footsore postman had delivered the large, neatly addressed, brown envelope with the foreign stamps in the top right hand corner. The stamps had borne the legend of the U.S. Post Office with the postal mark of New York City. Now, this was indeed glamorous and exciting for the girl who was brought up in a former mining village in Southern Scotland.

As a little girl she had dreamed of seeing exotic places like New York, with the Empire State Building and Central Park.

But, those had just been the stupid fantasies of a silly little girl alone, in a room she shared with two sisters, dreaming of a better life in the dim and distant future. Now, here it was in front of her, in black and white, something she had always dreamed of; an all expenses paid invitation to visit New York City, and to discuss possible publication of her book. An invitation signed by the President of the Publishing House himself; a signature she couldn’t quite make out, but the typescript beneath said Bertram Millinghouse the Third, President.

Well, it looks like you’ve really arrived now, Elizabeth had considered, reading the text of the letter, part of her not quite believing that it was real. But, the invitation to travel to New York City was very, very real indeed. The letter with the brash, multi-coloured letterhead that announced that it was from Millinghouse Publications did indeed invite her to a meeting with the Vice-President of Fiction, a Mister Lindstrom, seven days from the date of the letter. Looking at her watch, Elizabeth had realised that the letter had taken three days to arrive. She had four days to make up her mind and get to New York. More importantly, she had to find a way to tell John and Billy just as they were moving into their new home.

The decision to go was purely academic and Mr Teddington had said in the past that it might be a good idea for her to do some book signings in the United States. Yes, but she wasn’t going to sign books she reminded herself. And, she suspected, that Mr Teddington wouldn’t be too happy about her speaking to a rival publisher considering the investment he had already made in her. No, she corrected herself she would go to New York, but politely and firmly tell Millinghouse Publications, that she was not looking for a new publisher. She would go to New York, see all the sights she had always dreamed of seeing, visit the big department stores she had read about in the glossy magazines, and then come home again to her brand new house. It would be a simple straightforward business trip with a great deal of sightseeing and no complications.

After all, she had worked hard for what she had achieved, so she deserved a little bit of ‘me’ time to herself, Elizabeth considered. She didn’t need to be tied to the house, to be at everyone’s beck and call. She was going to have a life for herself.

John and Billy would just have to get used to that, she decided.

Chapter 23

Planet Earth

“Billy!” Emma Wallace called out in the middle of the playground, “Billy! Wait up!” she called, pushing her way through the straggle of students slowly making their way to the tower block building.

Struggling to keep her shoulder bag in place, Emma jostled and pushed her way, breathlessly, forward until she had caught up with Billy Caudwell.

“Billy, I really need…” She said panting with exertion.

“I told you last night, I’ve got nothing to say to you!” Billy snapped with hurt irritation, striding on towards the heavy safety glass doors of the building.

“Billy, please,” Emma protested trying to keep up whilst wrestling with her shoulder strap, “look, I know I’ve messed up big time…”

“Look,” Billy snapped, stopping and turning to face Emma, “get outta my face. I want nothing to do with you!” he barked and strode angrily off into the darkened maw of the building.

Emma, however, was not the kind of girl to give up so easily. Hitching up her shoulder bag determinedly, she dashed after Billy into the cool darkness of the ground floor corridor. In the hallway, three streams of foot traffic merged. Those coming down from upper floor classrooms and out of the building, those entering and heading up to classrooms, and those heading for classrooms on the ground floor mingled and barged their way to their appointed destinations.