Chapter 1

The stillness of the night was broken by the high pitched alarms, and screams of frantic calls of fearful men, by the thunder of the boots crashing against the decks by men purposefully running, trying to get to their emergency stations.

The announcement repeated, “All hands to emergency stations, core breach imminent. This is not a drill...” it droned. The captain, a senior year cadet, was finally awakened by not only the noise, but by a junior officer, reporting that there was a serious malfunction with the containment unit and that somehow there was a contamination of the fissionable material.

Captain R’Yclif knew what that meant; the core would have to be dumped. Any hopes of passing the final exam were dashed now. It had been a difficult assignment, even for his crew, they were the top 1 percent of their class at the academy, and it was of course unfair. Unfair and simply a way of setting them up for failure, he believed that with every fiber of his being, first they were supposed to go on what was to be a simple patrol cruise. But they had changed those plans, now they were on an exploratory mission in the furthest reaches of the Obsidian Throne. To add even more stress, most of these areas, no one had been to in nearly two and a half millennia. They were supposed to update navigation maps, find promise of new natural resources and show where the Obsidian Throne could expand its empire.

He got out of bed and put his uniform on. He consulted with the chief engineer J’Orgen, who as it so happens was also sleeping before the chaos began.

“Well I believe we have no choice but the dump the core” stated the engineer matter of factly.

“Yes I know that, but with out the core we have no hope of getting back to the Central Worlds.” Stated R’Yclif hoping he did not sound like a blathering idiot stating the obvious.

“Well we still will have impulse power and we will still be able to generate electric power and life support.

“Yes, but at impulse speed it will take us nearly” He stopped to think for a second, trying to grasp the number his mind had calculated ... Could that be right he thought to himself, 350 years?

J’Orgen confirmed it by finishing the sentence for him. “350 years plus or minus a decade.”

They shut the engines down and the crew performed the emergency dump of the core, knowing full well, that even though they were saving their lives, they were condemning themselves to a slow death in the cold darkness of space.

He and his crew, all ten of them were sitting around the conference table in the ships meeting room. The noise had gotten out of control. R’Yclif shouted, and they all stopped talking, and looked at him.

“We don’t need to start laying blame, and we know what happened was an accident. It was unavoidable. Yes, we can point out, it was preventable, but that is like saying the Ulster Wars were preventable. We all know what caused it, but we could not stop it. So on to more productive discussion.”

Where can we find more Inothorzium 299? Where can we find a replacement for our core, so we do not have to die here in space? So, we can get home. So, we can have a chance at graduation, before we are old and gray.

A meek voice answered, well sir we could try to use the old survey charts for this region, they may be outdated, to the space traders, but I bet the information on minerals is at least usable. If we can find a sizable deposit of Inothorzium we may be able to find a way to mine it.”

“So what we mine it. How are we going to refine it?” Another of the crew interrupted.

“Look here, now we will not start squabbling now.” The captain was nearly bellowing to be heard again. He took a breath to calm himself, I thinks P’Etison, has a good idea, someone download the computer banks and all available data on minerals in this region of space.

“Well Captain we have found a few bits of good news.” P’Etison replied. The crew was once again assembled in the conference room.

“Please continue.” R’Yclif replied.

“Okay, what we have found is that there is a sizable deposit of Inothorzium which we then need to make into Inothorzium 299, it is located on a moon that orbits the 3rd planet in this solar system.” P’Etison said as he pointed to it on the charts. “The surveys of this sector of space indicate a very low level of technology and a very low level of intelligence, so going in and mining the material should not be to difficult. However, refining it may take a little more doing; we may have to build our own stinmelg, and atomic bombardment setup. Then we need to create an area where we can create the Isotope. Of course, the hardest part of the entire operation will be the re-crystallization of the mineral and making sure we can tune it to the proper harmonics, need to use as a power source.

“Alright then I suggest we start studying how to perform that task.” The captain stated. But he was interrupted.

“While it is true we will need to have this converted into a crystal in order for it to work properly, we may not need to worry about the harmonics that only allows us to achieve a higher fraction of optimal increase in the output as determined by thrust to weight ratios”

Everyone stared at J’Orgen, the chief engineer. “What?” he replied, he was unaware of his effect on the entire crew.

“Well, would you like to repeat that in plain simple Standard?” stated junior officer P’Etison

“Okay, first you were correct, we do need to refine the Inothorzium and create the isotope, and reform it into a crystal. And yes, if we could tune the harmonics to provide an optimum level of thrust, i.e. giving us the ability to travel at multiples of the speed of light, and then yes it would save of a great amount of time. This in turn would help us return to G’Acrax quicker. However, as I also said, if all we can do is refine and re-crystallize the Inothorzium 299, then we can still get home. It will take longer, but not the 350 years we are faced with presently. Possibly three or at the outside five years, the worst case scenario ten years, but in contrast is very acceptable.”

The others thought about this and decided that it sounded better then the alternative. They went about making the necessary arrangements for in-system travel. They decided to use a simple ballistic approach, with a small deviation. They decided that since they were in the area they might as well update their charts. This they figured could be a big plus, and maybe give them some extra credit; seeing as they were now going to be very late, in returning from their final exam. So they were going to use one final big push, and try to slingshot around the big gas giant, in an attempt to give them more speed to reach the much needed power source. The other reason was they could send out survey drones, of which they had plenty, and get an updated picture of this region of space. And then create new charts to use and turn in to the academy. They hoped they could at least salvage one positive experience from this big mess.

“Sir, I should point out that this mission to get the Inothorzium is going to take us some time, as many as 10 years possibly longer depending on other factors.”

“And?” the captain asked.

“Sir, we don’t have supplies for that length of time, we have at most a few weeks, and then only if we use one quarter rations. And that doesn’t address water sir. We can of course recycle our liquid waste and possibly give us a few extra days, but eventually it will not be a viable option.

R’Yclif stopped in mid stride, he hadn’t thought about the need for extra provisions. How would he solve this dilemma? He was only the captain because he was a senior, and would be given an appointment into the Space Navy as a Junior Grade Lieutenant when he finally graduated. Granted he was the top of his class and he was the best suited for this mission, but that was when everything was optimal, not when it turned into a disaster. He was always afraid something like this was going to happen. He was not prepared to meet this kind of trouble, and he knew that if the mission failed it would be because he was not able to overcome the obstacles in front of him now.

“What options do we have?” R’Yclif finally asked.

“I have a couple of suggestions.” The cadet reported. “We could try to activate the suspended animation chambers. They would have to be jerry-rigged to bypass the safety lockouts; they are in a lock out condition, set by the academy, because they did not believe them to be necessary for this mission. We would have to hack in to the main computer and override the locks then set the computer to automatically send out the survey drones as we pass each planet in the system. Then inform the computer, to store all the information in a new file, so we can review the data later. That way we can update our charts. Of course, we would need to tell the computer to start the reanimation sequence as we enter the area of the Inothorzium deposit.”

“That sounds like a lot of work.” R’Yclif replied.

“The second option is not nearly as good and involves a lot of modifications to the recycler system.”

Tell me about it just in case. R’Yclif answered. He was not very optimistic but he needed options.

“Okay, we start by setting the recycler up to change the consistency of the waste products into a more usable nutrient supplement.

“That sounds disgusting!” R’Yclif interrupted. “I’d rather not go and do that.” He continued.

“Ah well neither would the rest of the crew.”

“So then, who can hack the computer system so that we can operate the suspended animation chambers?”

“Our best bet would be Cadet Ensign T’Orkel.” P’Etison answered.

“Isn’t he the same one who was on watch when we had to dump the core?” How do we know he didn’t create the situation we are in now?”

“Well there’s not much we can do about what happened, without a full scale investigation, but we won’t live long enough to conduct it without his help.”

The decision was a simple one in the end; they needed to survive in order to do anything. So, they trusted T’Orkel to hack into the computer. He was successful, and he was able to bypass the safety interlocks and get the computer to setup a sub routine program allowing the suspended animation chambers to function. Then he programmed the computer to automatically send out a drone as the ship entered the system and, they decided to include a geological survey of every planet and major moon. This would be the basis for the new charts.

As R’Yclif entered the chamber his last thoughts were what if this doesn’t work? Then the injection device pricked his arm, and slowly he began to get sleepy. Within a few minutes, he was asleep.

The computer monitored the crew; all was within normal operating parameters. As the ship entered the Milky Way it started, it is preprogrammed in system approach to the planet Earth’s moon. It turned on its monitoring equipment and sent the drone to conduct its survey. It noted time and date then made a comparison of the new data to that, which was stored in its database, a lot has happened in 2000 years.

Saturday June 7, 2021 The George Bush auditorium

The Graduation day for Clear Lake High School had finally arrived. Ceremonies were being held inside due to a heavy rain that had been falling all day. Many students were taking it as a bad omen. Even Sean W. Mallory, was feeling that the gloomy weather seemed to match his mood. Even though he was graduating with honors, lettered in cross-country every year, and was two-time national champion in wrestling and on the High School All-American team. He was vice-president of the student body government, and on the debate team. Even with these accomplishments, he felt that he hadn’t achieved enough. He was a very driven individual. “Second place was only invented to let the losers feel better,” was something he lived by. The proof of this was that no matter how well everyone said he performed, he believed that it could have been done better or faster and was never satisfied with it.

A “B” meant that he had somehow slipped up. That made him even more determined to get an “A” the next time. He was constantly doing extra credit projects to compensate for his self-perceived shortcomings as an academic. Of course, the same way he attacked his schoolwork is the same way he tackled athletics. He preferred individual competition, as compared to team sports, “Because you could only rely on yourself to succeed anyway,” as he always preached. He believed that if you could have your personal best, but the team still lost that night, you were still a loser.

So, he applied himself to the areas where personal achievement meant personal victory he was built for wrestling, his 6’3” 225 pound body could take as well as give punishment, and Sean gave much more then he received. He wore his wavy jet-black hair short and neat. His eyes were as blue and as cold as ice. Most of his classmates when asked to describe him would say meticulous, logical, calculating and distant, or cold. Only a few knew that what most saw, as indifference was really insecurity. He didn’t have many friends; in fact he only had one Thomas Hardy.

He did not have a girl, not that he lacked for choices. It was not any girl who could live up to his high standards, which were measure against his mothers striking beauty of her youth and his demands for perfection of himself. This all added up to him having just three dates in high school, none of which was with the same girl.

The thing about graduation is that for those actually participating, it seems to move at an incredibly slow pace. The bigger the school, the longer it takes, for the real reason everyone is there, which is to get their diplomas and get out of there forever. Sean, like most of his classmates, didn’t have a clue as to his future. He knew, to get the high paying job with all the perks, the house in the suburbs, and the Mercedes Benz, along with the rest of the trappings of success. He would need to go on to a four-year university and complete his degree. Which was a field with a high demand for his skills, but what was it exactly he wanted out of life. That’s where everything went to pieces, because he had no idea of what he really wanted to become.

He only knew what he didn’t want. He didn’t want to be his like his father. He considered his father lazy and unmotivated. Sean felt that Mr. Mallory should have started his own practice, after all why become a psychologist only to teach theory to students all day. He could not understand it, he had asked his father on several occasions, why he just didn’t decide to stop teaching, and start a practice. He always got the same reply. “It is a noble endeavor to ensure that future generations of young people receive the best training I can give.” Sean thought this was a cop out, and it always went back to the old saying, “those who can do, and those who can’t ... teach. It seemed to fit the situation well, in Sean’s mind.

The ceremony finally got to the handing out of the graduates’ diplomas.

When Sean’s name was called out there was a silent cheer that went out from the back of the auditorium. It came from Edwin Whitten. He hadn’t seen his grandson, other than for Christmas, for about eight years, every time he and his daughter were in the same room there was inevitably arguments. Whitten hated it, but he couldn’t help himself, all he could do is thinking of how much more his beautiful daughter deserved, and what she was forced to accept.

To Blaire’s credit though, she never once complained about how little Ian made. Nor, did she even think to ask for a single thing from her father, not because she thought he would deny her, but because she knew he would not. Ian was her husband and she would not demoralize him by running back to daddy every time the going got rough. When she finally got into the job market, she made sure that the money she made was comparable to her husbands, at least in the beginning. Now she made more than he did, but she still let him run the household finances.

Just as he was heading to his parent’s car, a tap on the back stopped Sean. He turned around, and to his surprise, the person he saw was his grandfather.

“Grandpa you made it, did you see me? I did it; I got my associate’s degree!”

“Yes I saw, and I am very proud of you son, I hope you’re thinking of continuing you studies, it is very difficult to find a good career without a four year degree.” Whitten said, trying to sound fatherly.

“Tell me about it, I have been all through the classifieds, oh course I am only looking for a summer job. But, there aren’t a lot of non-degree positions available.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something, you’re a resourceful young man.

“I just wanted to offer my congratulations, and wish you good luck.” With that Whitten shook his hand.

He wanted to hug him, but he knew most young men Sean’s age would not appreciate such an overt gesture. He had originally decided to go to the party, and give his present to him there. However, in an effort to avoid any arguments, he gave Sean his present here, it was a card, inside of it was a check for one hundred dollars, and a gift certificate to a local computer outlet store.

Sean read the card and looked at the gift certificate, and thought about the new laptop he’d been looking at, now he could afford to get it. A new laptop would really be useful; especially with all the papers, he would be doing next year when he transferred to a four-year university, to complete his degree.

“Thank-you so much for this,” Sean said holding up the gift certificate. “I am going to buy a new laptop, my old one is pretty well done for. I really needed another one but I didn’t know how I would get one. I was thinking I could ask mom or dad about getting me one for Christmas.”

The rain had stopped, the clouds cleared, and the sun started to shine down on the new graduates. They were able get to the awaiting cars without getting their new sheepskins wet. Sean looked out the car window to the east and saw a rainbow. He tried to see his grandfather in the crowd, but it was impossible to distinguish anyone in the mass of people swarming the parking lot.

The drone had gathered a tremendous amount of information; it had transmitted its entire memory three times since it had been launched. The computer compared the new information to the old and noted a few minor differences. So, it updated the memory and then gave the command to wipe the data from the drone. It was coming up on the gas Giant, and it would require most of the memory space for just this planet, and its moons. Major amounts of information would be devoted to whether a viable colony, or military outpost, could be sustained here. As well as whether the gas giant could be profited from as well possibly as energy source. This appeared to be more successful then originally anticipated. It started to send its finding back to G’Acrax. It had been previously programmed, by the High Command to do so if it had been tampered with and to provide reports. It was also recording and monitoring all the radio and television signals it was receiving from the third planet, which was previously believed to be uninhabited, or inhabited by a species that was considered to be too primitive to be at this technology level. So, the natives had either evolved much faster then anticipated or a more advanced people had conquered them. Information was power and the more information the computer gathered the more the High Command could use to its advantage.

The summer went by entirely too soon for Sean. Tomorrow would be the first day as an undergraduate student at the Houston University. He decided that he would live in an apartment off campus. He wanted do declare his independence from his parents; this was the day he’d been dreaming about for a very long time. He moved into an apartment a month ago, and as luck would have it, he talked to Thomas Hardy about being a roommate. At least he could count on one familiar person in the vast sea of anonymous faces.

He had known Thomas since grade school. If any one was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, it was Thomas. His father owned Hardy Industries Incorporated, which is a fortune 100 company, with its finger in just about every pie imaginable, from hotel chains to textiles. It created superconductor research facilities, and oversaw the production of nuclear warheads for the defense department. Thomas Hardy really didn’t need college; his father would have given him a position in the Family business. Thomas wasn’t ready for the “real world” yet. So, he decided to go to college. He had to go to Houston University though, or his father wouldn’t pay for it.

Sean however was paying his own way though college. He had saved enough by graduation to pay for the enrollment and he saved all the money he made over the summer to pay for books. At least for this semester he was still a college student. The next thing Sean did was go to the student placement center, about a month before the first day of classes to enroll in the work-study program. He received a referral for a clerk position, in the operations department of Lunar Development Corporation, Inc. The pay was not great, but $1000 a month was perfect for Sean.

He learned quickly that most of people in his department shuffled papers and projects from one group to the next hoping to make it look like a lot was being accomplished. He decided to take on the most unpopular, and the most time consuming projects. Then see them to completion. This got him noticed by upper management. He was quickly earmarked for the fast track, if he stayed.

Sean dove into his studies, and like in high school, soon was proving to be an adept student. He would work and then go home and study six hours for the next day of classes. Sean was basically going into a self-destructive cycle, constantly chasing his own tail too maintain his school, and work, and it was taking its toll. He was not getting the sleep that his body needed, and he wasn’t eating properly either. This prompted Thomas to invite him over to his parents for the Thanksgiving weekend.

Sean accepted the invitation, and when he arrived at the Harry’s house, he was taken back to an age of innocent childhood. He could still remember the first time he had ever been invited to this house; he was seven years old.

The house itself was mammoth in size it sat on a full 20 acres of prime real estate. It sprawled out all over the place, almost as if the designer was a student of Picasso’s “cubist’s” period.

He still remembered getting utterly lost the first time he tried to find the bathroom, and the near disastrous results. He was in desperate need, and started going down the hallway, stopping at every door. He crossed his legs and open each door just enough to peek inside the open doorway. He’d look in to see if it was a bathroom, and when he saw it wasn’t he quickly closed it and move as fast as he could to the next one. This happened repeatedly. Thankfully, the housekeeper saw his dilemma and pointed him to the nearest bathroom. There were seven of them in the house. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Sean used to envy Thomas, until he realized how little time Thomas actually spent with his family.

Thomas Hardy Sr. was seldom at home. He was either at the office or away on business.

Thomas used to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with the Mallory’s because his family was too busy to stop and celebrate. Things had changed though, Thomas Sr. had a massive coronary about three years ago and the doctor told him if he didn’t slow down that he’d be dead in less than six months. It never seems to fail, the threat of death can accomplish more in a moment, and then a lifetime of pleading ever will.

Sean approached the front door of the Harry’s house and rang the doorbell. Earl, the butler answered the door and showed Sean to his guest room and made sure that his needs would be met. Earl announced that the evening meal would be at half past seven, and seeing it was, only a quarter past five that perhaps a brief nap would be advisable. Thomas had put Earl up to this rather unusual bit of advice. Normally Earl wouldn’t have even dreamed of telling a guest that they needed a nap, or anything else for that matter. Thomas was going to do his best to ensure that Sean relaxed all weekend.

Sean and Tom went to the arcade to play some virtual reality video games. Sean was especially good at “Lunar Survival.” It was a game set on the moon’s surface during a catastrophic meteor collision. The object was, the player had to find a way to keep safe of the impact and resulting moonquake, but he must also find a way to survive, and ultimately get off the moon to win the game.

There are many treacherous levels and a multitude of bad guys lurking in dark corners. However, the real problem is that you only have a limited supply of oxygen and you must find the emergency oxygen station. Then fight off those who are trying to do the same thing. Then, if you are successful at getting this far, the challenge begins, finding a way off the lunar surface and getting to safety. In the game, there are two safe havens, Earth and an orbiting space station. The space station is not as safe as the Earth and it has more dangers in trying to get there. The Earth on the other hand is much safer. But, it is harder to get to, and, the player needs to steal a space ship and pilot it to Earth. The problem with this is landing. Most scenarios end right here, because 99 percent of the players crash.

Sean had already won the game by escaping to the orbital station. He stole a small private space plane. Its design did not take such abuse into consideration, nor was it intended for the aerial acrobatics Sean performed in it. It was a simple unassuming transport and Sean turned it into a stunt flyer. He flew it to the station. He didn’t know how to properly dock, so he rammed the small plane through the docking hatch. He was lucky. The plane was able wedge itself halfway through the station’s hanger bay doors.

He got out of the fighter and the crash crew immediately, took him to the medical center and then the game ended with a congratulation screen. He was informed that he had won a T-shirt, because he successfully survived. He was asked to enter his name and mailing address and his T-shirt would arrive in 4- 6 weeks. That was weeks ago and still no sign of it. He had not made a successful attempt at crashing into Earth.

The other part of the challenge of playing “Lunar Survival” was that there was no way to win the game exactly the same way, ever, no matter what machine you used no matter where you were. This is because a satellite linked all of the machines. All the data was transferred to the game’s designers, where it was constantly updated. Your victory in the game actually meant you really achieved something grand. The rumor is that there is a conspiracy to make the game unable to be won, thus increasing the profits it could generate. The designer’s response was that there would eventually be a tournament and only the highest scoring “survivors” would be invited to try out their wits against each other instead of the computer. The time of this modem day duel has yet to be determined, giving the conspiracy theory more credit than it may have deserved. Sean had yet to win the game by escaping to Earth, although he played often. He was determined that he would be the first to win the game both ways. That would assure him a spot in the duel, if and when it ever took place.

“After you’re through crashing into the planet, why don’t we hit a movie?” Tom suggested. He liked video games just as much as the next guy, but Sean was obsessed with winning the unbeatable. Tom had tried Lunar Survival and had succeeded in killing himself in glorious new ways. He was there when Sean won, Sean got up out of the booth and started to hoop and holler and jumping up and down, it was infectious, and it was pure crazy. But Tom knew that if he ever won that infernal machine, he would probably do the same thing.

Sean, not liking to be interrupted mumbled, “yeah just hang a second, I am almost through the atmosphere ... Damn!” “See what you made me do! I crashed! And it’s your fault.” Sean said with a hint of humor in his voice.

“Yeah sure it’s my fault, was it me who piloted the spacecraft?” Tom replied half-upset and half-laughing.

The weekend without work proved to exactly what Sean needed, however. He came back to school with a renewed sense of purpose and vigor. He was anxious for finals to be finished. Unlike many students, Sean did not believe in cramming for them. He was always studying towards that goal. So that when it came down to the last week of classes his strategy was a bit different instead of studying, he went out and lived a little. His strategy worked well for him, when the finals came around his head was clear and he was ready to take them. He breezed through them, without any difficulties.

With his tests over, his thoughts turned toward the Christmas break and going home to see his parents, for the first time since he began classes in the fall. On the last day of classes for the semester, he received a letter in the mail. It didn’t have a return address and it appeared to have been mailed locally, according to the postmark.