Sacrifice Play: A Tale from the Arbiter Chronicles

By Phil Giunta

A technology so dangerous, just knowing it exists is a death sentence...

At least, that's what Captain Smith Lotsawa believes. In order to stop this perceived threat and protect the Confederated Worlds, the Captain of the CNV Haakon Rodriguez is willing to sacrifice his life and the lives of every man, woman, and child aboard his starship.

Unfortunately for Captain Lotsawa, Lieutenant Terry Metcalfe and his Arbiters are also aboard. After discovering the truth, the Arbiters are determined to stop Lotsawa from destroying the ship—no matter what it takes.

Sacrifice Play is the third novel set in the universe of the Mark Time and Parsec Award-winning audio drama series, The Arbiter Chronicles. Library Journal calls the Arbiters "a cast of compelling characters."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Firebringer Press
• Release date: Aug 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310566219

Phil Giunta

Phil Giunta enjoys crafting powerful fiction that changes lives and inspires readers. His novels include the paranormal mysteries Testing the Prisoner, By Your Side, and Like Mother, Like Daughters. His short stories appear in such anthologies as Love on the Edge, Scary Stuff, A Plague of Shadows, Beach Nights, Beach Pulp, the Middle of Eternity series, and many more. He is a member of the Horror Writers Association, the National Federation of Press Women, and the Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group. Phil is currently working on his next paranormal mystery novel while plotting his triumphant escape from the pressures of corporate America where he has been imprisoned for over twenty-five years. Visit Phil’s website at www.philgiunta.com.  Find him on Facebook: @writerphilgiunta and Twitter: @philgiunta71

Book preview

A technology so dangerous, just knowing it exists is a death sentence...

At least, that's what Captain Smith Lotsawa believes. In order to stop this perceived threat and protect the Confederated Worlds, the Captain of the CNV Haakon Rodriguez is willing to sacrifice his life and the lives of every man, woman, and child aboard his starship.

Unfortunately for Captain Lotsawa, Lieutenant Terry Metcalfe and his Arbiters are also aboard. After discovering the truth, the Arbiters are determined to stop Lotsawa from destroying the ship—no matter what it takes.

Sacrifice Play is the third novel set in the universe of the Mark Time and Parsec Award-winning audio drama series, The Arbiter Chronicles. Library Journal calls the Arbiters a cast of compelling characters, and Analog calls the Chronicles "a fun romp... like a cross between the funniest episodes of the original Star Trek and Monty Python."

Sacrifice Play: A Tale from the Arbiter Chronicles

By Steven H. Wilson

Editing & Proofreading by Sandra Zier-Teitler, Phil Giunta and Paul Balzé

Cover design by Ethan H. Wilson

Title design by Chris Winner

Cover Art by Caio Cacau

Published by Firebringer Press at Smashwords

Copyright 2016 Steven H. Wilson

The Arbiter Chronicles is a trademark of Steven H. Wilson

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter One

T-Minus One Hour, Twenty-Four Minutes and Counting

Vaclav was not afraid. He'd been prepared for this moment all his life. His parents, his teachers, his village had readied him. Still, he hadn't expected, when he woke up this morning, that today would be the day he died for the greater good.

It was an honor—the greatest honor. He did not hesitate to accept it, but he needed to confirm his Captain's intentions. Captain Smith Lotsawa had just given the order to radically alter the fuel balance in the engines of the CNV Haakon Rodriguez. An officer with the Captain's experience knew that order would lead to the ship's destruction. An officer with Vaclav's training knew also when to ask the right question at the right moment.

Sir, you should be aware—

Lotsawa cut him off. The Captain was normally a genial, easy-going officer. Everything had changed after the meeting with the special operatives from Confederate Intel. He had become suddenly grim.

I'm aware of the danger, Mr. Vaclav. I don't give such an order lightly, believe me. Lotsawa's tone was as measured as ever, but his face said now was not the time for questions.

And Vaclav asked no questions. He programmed the change, but his hand shook with—what?—fear? At the thought of cowardice, his face burned hot with shame. He pulled the control hologrid down so he could drop his gaze from the Captain's line of sight. He would not have this man see his fear or his shame. Cursing his own body for betraying him, he altered the burn mix. He would have expected some telltale sign—a lurch, an increase in pressure. Rodriguez was too well designed. She could be caught on an event horizon, and the passengers and crew would never feel the pull.

Burn mix altered, sir. Estimate eighty-four minutes to—

Under their feet there was a clang. The command deck hatch popped open with force. From his cradle, Vaclav could not see the intruder, but he heard the clear voice, the Terran twang that rendered it harsh and unpleasant.

Captain Lotsawa!

The new arrival was Metcalfe, a visiting officer from the Titan. The Executive Officer of the Navy's flagship he was, but still, he was not a welcome guest, for all he was celebrated in the media.

Captain Lotsawa's withering gaze conveyed dislike for the brash, young man from Terra. Vaclav, for his part, had found little remarkable about Terrence Metcalfe. He was just another officer, about Vaclav's own age. He didn't look unplanned, a word often applied to natives of Terra, who were not genetically engineered. Considering he was the product of natural intercourse between two Terrans, and a messy, primitive pregnancy and childbirth, he looked amazingly normal. Indeed, he was fairly handsome.

Leftenant Metcalfe, said the Captain. You were not summoned to the command deck. Lotsawa nodded, and two security officers, who had inexplicably accompanied the Captain when he had arrived only moments before, moved to flank Metcalfe.

Captain, external communications are down, said Metcalfe. We're off the L-Space grid. Out of touch.

Lotsawa's expression did not change. "Naturally. A simple maintenance issue. It will be corrected forthwith. Surely you did not invade my command deck to tell me that? I don't know how Captain Atal does things on Titan, but on this vessel, the captain does not stoop to repairing communications outages."

When Metcalfe only stared, surprised, Lotsawa added, Return to your quarters, Mister Metcalfe.

The guards drifted a few inches closer to Metcalfe, the implied threat clear in their eyes. If he stayed, he would be physically removed from the Captain's presence.

Metcalfe kicked forward, toward Lotsawa. Vaclav had heard that this one was stubborn.

Captain, you must be aware that Drake Gabriel is aboard.

Who? asked Lotsawa, his face bland.

Doctor Drake Gabriel, of Project Standalone.

A passenger? Mister Metcalfe, I cannot keep track of every passenger who buys a public berth on my ship. Security screens them, and—

Dr. Gabriel did not purchase a berth, sir. She was brought here by Confederate Intel. Under orders from the Secretary. When the Captain still seemed unimpressed, Metcalfe stressed, From Admiral Fournier.

Vaclav, who had just learned of the presence on board of a Dr. Gabriel, looked with interest at his Captain. What kind of person would embark, under orders from the Secretary, without the Executive Officer's knowledge? There were a few possible answers. None of them filled Vaclav with confidence.

Lotsawa waved an impatient hand. Yes, I recall now. It is...a routine matter. Nothing to trouble yourself with, Mr. Metcalfe. You are a passenger on this ship, and—

Captain Lotsawa, I suppose you know about the technology Dr. Gabriel has developed. Its implications—

Of course I know, snapped Lotsawa. I know everything that goes on aboard my ship. But the matter is classified, and not up for discussion with you. His tone was sharp. Vaclav had known the man long enough to know when he was lying.

Smith Lotsawa was lying now.

Whoever Dr. Drake Gabriel was, whatever she knew, the Captain had not been aware of her, not until recently. And now the consequences of his ignorance were going to be devastating.

Sir, Metcalfe pressed, there's more I should tell you—

Mister Metcalfe, again, I'm asking you to stand down. I am dealing with this matter. You are not a part of my crew. If I find I have need of your services, I will request them. Until that time...

Lotsawa gestured to the two security guards. Each placed one hand on one of Metcalfe's arms.

These gentlemen will see to it that you find your way back to your cabin. When communications are restored, you will be notified.

Metcalfe allowed himself to be led away, but his silence belied any pretense that the matter was closed in his eyes. He would keep pushing.

Not that it would matter for long.

After Lotsawa's smoldering gaze had lingered on the departing figure for several seconds, Vaclav cleared his throat and said, Sir? I don't mean to pry...

The Captain started, then turned to his Executive. His expression softened. No, not at all, Mr. Vaclav. You're entitled to know. Lotsawa disengaged himself from his own cradle and floated closer to his executive. He seemed to be composing what to say, how to say it. This...Gabriel...

You didn't know, did you? That she'd been brought aboard?

Lotsawa looked at him sharply.

I mean no disrespect, Captain. But—

No, you're quite right, Vaclav. I knew that a—guest—that is, a person of interest—had been brought aboard, accompanied by Confed Intel. I was told her identity was on a need-to-know basis. Indeed, I didn't know the person was female, much less why she was here. I was ordered to detour to the Heller Anomaly.

I wondered about that, sir. I assumed it was a data-gathering stop, something scientific. Naval vessels, when convenient, often performed research assistance, gathering data in regions near their scheduled travel routes.

It was a sort of data-gathering mission, yes. Lotsawa looked forward, out into space as it was depicted on the holo displays before them. He appeared hesitant to say something.

Do I infer that—that you learned something significant, sir, when you met with the Intel operatives?

Very significant, whispered Lotsawa. You see, this Dr. Gabriel...she ran a sort of test. She tested an advance in navigational technology.

And the test failed, Captain?

Lotsawa closed his eyes, as if shutting them could shut out the truth. Then he said, Oh no, Vaclav. No, the test passed. It passed with flying colors. Dr. Gabriel proved that perhaps the most dangerous thing humanity has ever conceived...is now a reality.

And what is that, sir?

Lotsawa cleared his throat. Do you know what makes space travel practical, Vaclav?

Of course, said Vaclav, unable to suppress a shrug. This was a student's question, worthy of a child. Conjugate mapping makes it possible to travel between stars in a fraction of the time it once took. Without it, we could never visit other worlds within a single human lifetime.

Conjugate mapping, agreed Lotsawa. Taking safe shortcuts between the stars, crossing thousands of light years in minutes, by traveling through rifts in the fabric of space. In a professorial tone, he asked, And what prevents conjugate mapping from being abused? What prevents any idiot in a rented spacecraft from launching an attack on any world he chooses? What keeps the Qraitians out of our space?

Security, of course, said Vaclav. The positions of conjugates, and the routes between them, are mapped by Douglas Holdings, and that information is proprietary. It's shared with a ship's nav computer only if that computer has an active account on the L-Space network. The Qraitians have no access. Any user who does have access is identified and tracked. No one could surprise us, or misuse the information.

Unless they had an unauthorized port of entry into the L-Space network, finished Lotsawa.

Vaclav shook his head. So many have tried. It's never been done.

And suppose I told you, said Lotsawa, his eyes assuming a weary cast, that, after today, every human being—indeed, every sentient being of any kind—would have immediate access to that information? To the L-Space network? What if I told you that every man, woman and child in the Confederacy and the Qraitian Empire was now going to be a living L-Space node?

Is that possible? asked Vaclav.

Not an hour ago, said Lotsawa, I saw it demonstrated. I assure you, it's possible, and very real.

Vaclav took a moment to consider what he'd heard. So any civilian, in any ship, would be able to detect changes in the conjugate network, and...

And appear just about anywhere they wanted to, at any time, unknown to Douglas Holdings, the military, or the government.

That could bring on galactic chaos, said Vaclav. If Douglas went bankrupt, there could be an economic collapse. Billions would die of starvation. Not to mention the possibilities for espionage, for sabotage, terrorism—

Scientists, Mr. Vaclav, rarely contemplate the consequences of their research when they undertake it. Dr. Gabriel was interested only in the pursuit of knowledge, and damn the cost to the rest of us. Especially if the Qraitians were to get their hands on her work. Lotsawa's expression became hopeless. Imagine our enemies simply appearing in orbit around Rigel V—in force and without warning. The security of our map data has been our only protection.

Vaclav couldn't help but shake his head in wonder. "It's insane. Sir, when you say you saw this..."

Dr. Gabriel's two Confederate Intel escorts used the technology—found an unmapped conjugate point, and were able to enter it in a shuttle with no other navigational equipment, using the augmented power of their own minds.

But, surely, sir, if Intel has control of the situation—

Lotsawa's interruption was harsh and final. The agents are dead. The conjugate they found was unstable, as most of them are in the Heller Anomaly. That's why we came here, to stress test Dr. Gabriel's detection capabilities. The conjugate closed with their shuttle still in transit. The forces exerted on a craft at such a time are too much for any known vessel to withstand. They're...gone.

Lotsawa paused for a moment, as if gathering himself. And there's more you don't know, Vaclav. You see, the technology is viral. Once it's been uploaded into one person's data implant, it can replicate itself into the implant—and thus the mind—of anyone that person encounters. If one person leaves this ship, carrying Dr. Gabriel's technology, within a week, half the population of Quintil could be infected.

And from Quintil, said Vaclav, half the galaxy.

You see the danger.

But sir, if the agents are dead, and Dr. Gabriel is confined—

The demonstration was witnessed by a civilian. He's...somewhere on this ship. I suspect he may have stolen the technology.

Surely security can find him—

"Don't you understand, Vaclav? This individual can pass the technology to anyone he meets. In a matter of hours, the whole ship, passengers and crew, could be infected. We must consider the Rodriguez to be," he hesitated over the word, compromised.

Vaclav simply held his Captain's eyes. The logic was inescapable to him.

I was given sealed orders, Lotsawa went on. The Intel agents did not know their contents. The orders instructed me to observe the demonstration and decide if the threat was credible. If I found it so, I was to secure the technology and deliver it—and Dr. Gabriel—to the Admiralty. If the technology was compromised, I was to use all possible measures to prevent the...spread of the infection. Ship, crew and passengers are expendable. Had I been able to imprison or kill the civilian in question, security would have been preserved. Since I was not...I have no choice, Vaclav.

Vaclav knew his Captain was right. He tried to decide how he felt about his impending death. He tried to envision his mother and father, and his sponsor, receiving the news. There would be tears, of course. They would be joyful tears, tears of pride.

Vaclav was from Sacrifice, the noblest outpost of humanity in space, where all people lived by the Golden Rule: Do unto others better than they do unto you, and love your neighbor more than yourself. Vaclav, like any good citizen, recognized that the survival of the race was of primary importance. What happened to one person mattered not at all, as long as the race prospered. Vaclav's death today would protect his people, indeed, would protect the entire Confederacy. His parents would be happy that he'd spent his life so well.

Still, ever thinking of the group, he asked, No lifeboats, Captain?

It was not a question which would benefit either Lotsawa or himself. They would be here, on this command deck, in these seats, when Rodriguez died.

When they died.

No lifeboats, said the Captain. The technology carries the DNA of its own creation. We have no way of knowing who is 'infected,' Vaclav, and who isn't. No. he set his mouth in a grim line. We must consider Rodriguez a plague ship. We must cauterize this wound, before infection spreads.

The Captain clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. I'm sorry, Vaclav.

It's been an honor to serve with you, sir. It shall be an honor to die with you as well.

A peremptory nod was the Captain's only reply. Then after a moment's consideration, he said, We must tell no one what's happening. It's a shame Metcalfe noticed so quickly that communications are down, but we've got to stay silent on all fronts. If our passengers and crew realize what's happening, they'll panic. It's kinder to let their fate overtake them quietly.

Vaclav wasn't sure he agreed. He would hate the thought of dying without knowing why, without knowing the debt of gratitude billions of souls would owe to him. This death was the culmination of a life well-lived, lived according to the training and the rules established by his people for the good of all. Imagine being caught by it unawares.

He realized that most of those aboard—most others out here in the Inner Worlds—were not from Sacrifice. They had not received his training. They would not welcome death as a bright spot in the history of their careers. They would panic. There would be suffering. The Captain was right.

No one else could know what was coming.

But...

The crew in the engine module will know, said Vaclav. They can't help but realize.

Indeed they cannot. Seal the engine module, so they can't leave.

Vaclav hesitated. The engineers would panic.

The Captain seemed to sense his concern. He said gently, They must not tell anybody.

And if they ask what's happening?

Tell them nothing. Lotsawa sighed. If it makes it easier, switch off monitoring even internal communications.

Vaclav declined to key off transmissions from the engine module. It seemed cowardly, disloyal...for now. When the men and women back there began asking, pleading to know why they were dying, would he be able to listen?

And Leftenant Metcalfe, sir?

Lotsawa looked around him, as if memorizing, one last time, the details of the ship, his last command. "Leftenant Metcalfe is powerless. By