Chapter 2: The Usual Suspects
A signature here. That’s what they said when the stroke of his pen affirmed his presidency. The required oaths were made and George Primm donned the presidential sash. President of Earth. Drawing a deep breath and opened the door to his new office, stepping inside and the first thing he noticed was the all-familiar new world order’s crest. It instilled a feeling of apprehension in him. After his predecessor’s assassination two days ago, he was bullied into this seat of power. He felt like a glorified puppet, with the Council of Seven pulling his strings.
“Mr. President, he is here.”
“Let him in.” George told the aide, who looked as anxious as he was.
He walked over to his desk and sat in the seemingly oversized leather chair. It still had that new leather smell. The last chair had to be thrown away due to the blood and scorch marks.
“It’s amazing how fast they clean up around here.” A tall broad man said as he entered the room.
He smiled. Bracus. His most trusted friend. The fact that he was a clone didn’t repulse him. He saved his life on more than one occasion. He got him through his entire military career as well as protected him throughout his political struggle to stay alive and focused. He clasped his hand warmly.
“Bracus, my friend welcome. Please have a seat.” He said as he looked past Bracus as if looking for someone.
“Expecting more company George?” Bracus asked.
“Yes I am. I want you here to sit in this meeting.” George replied.
Bracus lifted an eyebrow.
“You don’t trust these people?”
“It’s not that I don’t trust them. You know treachery when it is present, and I don’t feel like getting filleted today.”
Bracus chuckled.
“You overestimate my skills, but I will do as you ask.” Bracus replied.
A knock at the door sounded and George stood up. Three people entered the room under armed guard.
George gestured to them to be seated. A stiff silence followed and everyone looked at the person next to him as if sizing him up. George broke the awkward moment.
“Please leave.” He told the marines.
They hesitated and looked to Bracus. It was clear to everyone in the room that the soldiers took their cue from him. He gave them a slight nod and they promptly marched out of the room. Bracus got out of his seat and everyone visibly flinched. He slowly walked over to George’s side and stood there, alert and ready for any danger to the President’s person.
“As everyone is aware, the previous president was...removed from office. I know this is a lot to take in, since you have been stationed in Mars’ orbit. A lot has changed.”
“What is that doing in here?” The uniformed man asked, gesturing to the clone. Bracus stood there stone faced, curious to see how George will react to this. George leaned forward resting his chin on folded hands, and met this upstart’s gaze.
“What is your name?” he asked sweetly.
“I am Blanco Allegra Mr. President.” He replied.
“Are you a racist Mr. Allegra?”
“No sir. I just don’t like clones. They are an abomination under God.”
“This ‘abomination’ has served this planet faithfully and without question for over five hundred years. He saved thousands of lives and if memory serves, he is the only reason you even have a job.”
Blanco opened his mouth to say something, but decided to remain silent. He didn’t miss George’s emphasis on the word ‘job’.
“If anyone in this room disrespect’s Bracus, you have disrespected me.”
Everyone in the room bowed their heads in acknowledgement. George stood up and sighed, rubbing his temples. Bracus inwardly grinned. He knew George had a flair for the dramatic to get his point across, and it seemed they were about to witness another stellar performance.
“From now on when we all meet I want us all to be equals. We must cultivate a manner of trust between us. I do not wish to end up like my predecessor, so I will listen to whatever you wish to suggest. I need allies, and as far as my people tell me you are the best at what you do.”
He picked up a file on his desk and perused its contents. The silence was deafening. The pressure in the room has built to an unbearable measure and George was sure if he didn’t say something quickly, it was going to burst.
“Professor David Birch, I have yet to be briefed on the Bellum incident.” George said, motioning at David to start.
David toyed with his tie and cleared his throat.
“Ah yes Mr. President I...”
George raised his hand and interrupted him.
“Please, I hate that title, call me George.”
“Very well...George. As you well know the Bellum’s destruction is over-exaggerated. Only the engine deck has been destroyed due to the drive core being breached.”
“Shouldn’t the whole ship be gone? I’m no physicist, but as far as I know, such a release of pure energy should have resulted in some kind of super atomic eruption?” George asked.
“It should have but someone stopped that from happening.”
“Who?” Blanco asked, a look of wonder on his face.
“One of the psyon commanders who was stationed there. As it was explained to me afterward, he projected some kind of energy field around the damaged core and contained the worst of the blast. He saved the ship, but in doing so he gave his life to do so.”
“Good riddance too”
The whole room stared at the man seated to the far left.
David gave him a disgusted, sideways glance.
“That man saved over five hundred lives on that vessel.” David said, gritting his teeth in anger.
“Commander Decker Hanson to you. And if wish to keep any of your teeth, I suggest you keep quiet four-eyes.” He said in a seemingly pleasant tone.
David sat in his chair fuming. Decker was deliberately baiting him, so he bit his tongue and waited for him to continue. He lit a cigar and puffed on it, savouring its flavour before continuing.
“George, you asked Mr. Allegra earlier if he was a racist. He might not be but I am. I respect clones more than I respect these toy soldiers. They are dangerous. You always know where you stand with a clone, but psyons are unpredictable and unreliable.”
The last man raised his hand.
“And you would be?” George asked, although he already knew the answer.
This is going to be interesting, George mused.
“I am Commander Jason Argo of the Psyon Marine Corps sir.”
Decker stared at Jason Argo. He knew him by name only. He was reputed to be the most powerful psyon in existence, and in command of the PMC, otherwise known as the Psyonic Marine Corps. Both men stared hard at each other. The whole room sat at the edge of their seats, expecting a confrontation between these two men.
“It doesn’t matter who or what we are. Commander Hanson, please refrain from insulting our host with this ridiculous behavior. Now please, George, tell us why we are here.”
Decker just pointedly stared at him, the disgust of Jason’s presence clear in his features. George filled a glass with water from an ornate pitcher. He deliberately took his time, drawing out the moment, remembering an old piece of wisdom his father always drilled into him.
“In a moment of tension, observe the man. And he will become the book, filled with the colors of his soul.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in what would have been a smile if Bracus did not interrupt his reverie with a dry cough. The president casually continued.
“As you know, we have achieved the pinnacle of scientific achievement. Faster-than-light travel. The only problem is that we can navigate our solar system in minutes, but anything beyond that, we cannot reach due to the lack of navigational aids. Professor Birch, please continue.”
David stood up, walks over to a whiteboard, and made a few illustrations.
“This is Pluto, our furthest point of reference. Our telescopes can see farther but images we get back are those of light years away, meaning what we see there doesn’t mean it’s exactly the same now. Therefore, if one of our ships were to jump any point beyond Pluto, we might be jumping into a singularity for instance. There is just no way we can calculate a safe point-of-entry. We either lack the necessary math or there is some other quantum mechanic we haven’t discovered yet.”
“Doc? What’s a singularity?” Blanco asked, slightly embarrassed.
“It’s just another word for a black hole, like the one between your ears.” Decker Hanson quipped.
Blanco glared at Decker, who seemed to enjoy his joke immensely. Dry chuckles filled the office. Tough crowd.
" How about we just carve a piece of space outside our solar system and map that the old fashioned way?” Jason offered.
“It’s possible, but even at those speeds our shuttles can reach, it could take years to map it effectively. Meaning we would have to return there every week or so to set up new navigation pickets, and those can go adrift fairly quickly. A good idea Mr. Argo but unfortunately, not feasible.” David concluded.
“You and Dr. Summers are in charge of finding the solution. I am confident that our best minds are working on it. Now Mr. Allegra, I need to know how fast we can outfit and man our new fleet of ships.”
Blanco stood up. His manner was clean-cut and a swagger of arrogance normally associated with the brash behaviour of youth.
“For basic operations of the entire fleet we have enough clones, but for essential staff we are still training the difference. The generals and I concur that in four months we can have the fleet operational.”
George nodded in approval. He hesitated. Should I shock them now and hope that the aftermath will harden their resolve? On the other hand, should I ease them into it?
“Thank you Blanco. Please have a seat. Now for the real reason I have called you all together.”
Everyone in the room had a puzzled look on their face.
“As you know, rumors have been circulating the fleet that the government was conducting classified research on the surface of Mars.”
Jason snickered.
" It was hardly a secret sir. Government freighters have been spotted jumping in and out from Mars for weeks now. They didn’t even try to mask their radio chatter.” Jason addressed the president without prompt.
George was taken aback.
“That’s not possible. We always operated on the far side of Mars’ orbit and our communication channels are highly encrypted.” George said, his brow knotted in a deep frown.
“Let’s just say I know a psyon that can hack anything that has a fuse, circuit or chip.” Jason said, grinning broadly.
George chuckled. The fact that he broke several laws did not seem to bother Jason. Instead of being outraged, he actually admired Jason’s resourcefulness. We have need of that in the days to come, he mused.
“Well it is true, well by half anyway. We have been doing some surveys on the planet, but we have discovered something there that is cause for grave concern.”
By the wide-eyed looks on their faces, George guessed that he had their undivided attention now.
“We discovered an entrance to a mouth of a cave. It led to an underground complex of some sort. We did not build it. Someone else was there before we discovered it. Carbon dating puts those ruins back about hundred and fifty thousand years. My scientific adviser at the site says it was around the time humans first showed up on earth. Do you think its coincidental David? ”
David sat there speechless, swallowing hard. Obviously, this meant more to him than the rest of the assembly.
“Our scientists have been down there for weeks now. What we discovered there was quite astounding. The technology used down there was advanced to be sure, but in a way that was...familiar. Figuring it out was not difficult. The language was not in any written form, it was mathematical in nature. We have currently a complete alphabet and started the deciphering process. It seems what we stumbled upon was a library.”
The room was struck with a deafening silence. David was the first to wake up from his stupor.
“Well, mathematics is a universal language.” Bracus added.
“Any artifacts found down there? Anything that can be of use to us?” He asked, his face lighting up.
Suddenly the prospect of working with alien technology intrigued him immensely.
“Yes, and you and Ms. Summers will have full access to all items found. We hope that our navigational problem might be solved with some of the things found down there.”
George stood up and so did the rest of the room. It was clear the meeting was over.
“Godspeed gentleman and good luck.”
George sat in his new chair, mentally exhausted. Bracus sat across him his face impassive. George rubbed his brow with his thumb and released his pent-up breath.
“So, how did they look to you?”
“Green.”
“So were you once Bracus. No human or clone has been gifted with immortality like you do. You can draw on countless lifetimes worth of experience, as to the rest of us...we only have one life to spare.”
“Aren’t you lucky.” Bracus scowled.
George gave him a sideways glance. Bracus was the first human clone ever created. He signed a contract with the old earth government, allowing himself to be cloned repeatedly after he dies. After the first few clones died something unexpected happened. Due to what scientists called then, cellular memory, Bracus could recall and experience his previous versions’ memories, even their knowledge. He is the only clone on earth allowed re-cloning. Due to his vast experience, he fulfils multiple roles.
“Do I detect a tone of regret in your voice Bracus?” he asked mockingly.
“Let’s just say if I had a choice I would have taken a different path. Now to the business at hand. You did not tell them everything did you. What else did you discover.” It was not a question.
“You know me too well friend. You are right. We have found more, but I do not trust them yet to reveal such sensitive information. There is a library down in those catacombs to be sure, we translated the first three codex’s. Whoever wrote them was human.”
Bracus raised his customary eyebrow when something surprises him.
“Human? How? We evolved here on Earth.”
“Not according to the codex. We are fugitives, Bracus. Fugitives that fled to Earth scattered under the boot of oppression. The codex doesn’t say who that boot belongs to though.”
Bracus let out a cynical chuckle
“Are you saying we come from Mars? That we are in fact Martians?”
“The codex says so. We have yet to fully translate it, but it seems we went into hiding on earth and destroyed all the technology at our disposal so our oppressors couldn’t track us.”
George let a sardonic chuckle slip.
“Isn’t it ironic Bracus? Throughout history we have been looking up to the stars and wondered if there was any other life out there. To actually find out that we, humans, are in fact, the ‘little green men’ we always hoped to find. We were never native to Earth.”
Normally Bracus would just absorb new information. His mind has evolved over the years, given his eternal lifespan. His brain has found a new way of processing information, as a computer does. Bracus had seen so many things that this existence had to offer that almost nothing surprises him anymore. However, this news changed everything.
“I understand now. The need for the fleet I mean.”
“Yes. If they, whomever they are, return, they will not find us unprepared like we were all those years ago. And if they do, I will make them regret it.”