Far Horizon: The Garish Moon

By Brian Matlack

In this second book of the series Troy Eastman and his crew must face the challenges of a new world while Kaylene and Jack Barker fight for their freedom back on Earth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 3, 2015
• ISBN: 9781312962644

Book preview

Far Horizon: The Garish Moon

Far Horizon

The Garish Moon

BY

Brian L Matlack

For

My Brother

Stan

Prologue

(On Naru)

Ackaan’s eyes opened instantly at the sound of a twig snapping somewhere in the distance. His senses were keen, far more acute than the others of his tribe were.

From his bed of leaves, in a clump of thicket, he remained motionless for several minutes, waiting, wanting desperately to stretch his lanky arms and legs, but he couldn’t risk making any sound. Instead, quietly, he pulled his legs further underneath him and rolled up onto his knees. He was tall for his age, strong, and agile, but that’s not why he was the leader of his clan.

Peering cautiously through the thick underbrush he rotated his pointed ears in all directions, trying to pick-up the next telltale sound. The bulging eyes, of his long flat face, adjusted quickly to the light of the double moons as he scanned the woods around him for any sign of an intruder. A massive scar ran diagonally across his cheek, from above the left ear, down to the middle of his chin, and he scratched it silently, as a small, hundred-legged creature, crawled across his face.

At twelve years of age, he was, perhaps, the youngest leader the clan had ever known. Big for his age, his long muscular arms and legs made him an impressive figure, and a formidable opponent to any who would challenge his authority. But, it was the ferocity of his merciless attacks that drove obedient fear into all but the hardiest of his rivals.

Silently he crept from the bushes towards a nearby Magana tree. The razor sharp claws of his three toed feet withdrew from their sheaths and bit deep into the trunk as he began to climb, up into the thick canopy overhead. Three long sinewy fingers and an opposing thumb on each hand deftly grasped at the branches as he moved easily from limb to limb. When he reached his vantage point, a fourth talon extended from the heel of each foot and clamped firmly around the branch beneath him, then he lowered himself down to look through the leaves at the forest floor below.

Patiently, silently, he waited and watched, as a soft breeze blew gently the leaves that surrounded him and filled his nostrils with the sweet smell of the Magana fruit.

His clan consisted of five males and thirty-five females, none of whom would ever dare to challenge his position as Magwa, the honored one. From time to time, a rogue male would stumble in from the bush to test his metal. Sometimes they would bring others with them, smaller troops of three or four, sometimes they came alone, but the outcome was always the same. When the fight began, Ackaan would hold back, patiently waiting for the right moment. When that moment finally came, he would spring into action with such cunning and ferocity that if they survived the ensuing onslaught, his opponent would either submit, and join the clan, or flee for their lives, back into the bush. If the challenger brought others, they would now join his clan and Ackaan would instantly assert his authority over any new males by beating them severely, and then one by one, he would mate with the females to claim his role as their mate.

A rustling of leaves from below alerted him to the coming danger as Ackaan’s eyes darted about quickly, looking for any sign or movement. Suddenly, the shadow of another, like himself, appeared in the bushes where he had been sleeping just moments before and he knew there would be a fight. Even as every muscle in his body began to tense, his breathing remained slow and steady as he waited for his opponent to move into the right position. Calm and deliberate, his actions in the next few seconds could be the difference between life and death.

When the shadowy figure emerged from the thicket, it stopped directly under where Ackaan lay in wait. Its head turning in all directions, nose searching the air for signs of danger, eyes peering into the surrounding forest.

Ackaan had only to release the grip his feet held on the branch, and he would have his attacker at a disadvantage from which he could not recover. It would mean certain death for the intruder, but Ackaan was patient, experience had taught him that the first opportunity was not always the best, so he hesitated a few moments longer. Several seconds passed, and he began to fear he would lose his advantage, so finally, despite his apprehension, he decided to act.

Hanging nearly vertical, upside down, Ackaan released his grip on the branch he’d been holding to, and silently dropped down, from the canopy, onto the would-be assailant. Simultaneously, his hands were on the shoulders of his would be attacker, claws tearing at the skin, and his teeth sank deep into the fleshy neck of the creature below as it let out a terrified scream of agony.

He had not seen the club, which the creature carried in the shadows, and it caught him by surprise as it slammed into the side of his head. Momentarily, he lost consciousness as the two combatants went crashing to the forest floor and rolled away from each other. Ackaan shook his head to try to regain his senses while he swung his leg and drove the claws of his right foot deep into his enemy’s leg, as it in turn tried to crawl away.

Suddenly, there was a hand around his other leg and Ackaan realized that he had not waited long enough. There was a second attacker, and if there were two, there could be more. He had not often felt fear in his life, but he was suddenly very afraid.

He released his grip on the first assailant and swung his now free leg wildly around, and felt his heel spur dig deep into flesh then stop, suddenly, as it struck bone. There was another horrible scream, and then silence. The first attacker ran, limping, into the darkness of the forest as Ackaan freed himself from the grip of the second. Adrenalin flowing, he grabbed a large rock from the ground, jumped to his feet and spun around to face the other assailants, but none were there.

He turned quickly, to locate the second attacker, and there, sprawled on the ground, with the light of the double moons streaming down on him through the trees, was a small male about half-grown. Ackaan looked at the face and saw that its cheek had been laid open, to the bone, the left eye, dangling to one side, having been gouged out by the vicious kick he had given the boy.

He knelt beside the creature, and listened to the soft moaning, which came from its half-open lips. No more than a child, this boy was less than six years old. Ackaan looked at the large gaping wound across its cheek, then reached up and touched his own scar, and pause for but a moment, before crushing the child’s skull with a single blow. He stood over the body in silence, and slowly, as the adrenaline began to subside, an unexpected feeling tugged at the back of his mind, a feeling of doubt.

Others from his clan came rushing in, from all sides, in answer to the commotion, and instantly Ackaan rebuffed them with a growl and a backhand for those foolhardy enough to get within arm’s reach. They all backed away, submissively, as he knelt down and tore at the flesh of the dead adolescent with his claws. When the belly skin ripped open, he reached inside, pulled out a bloody organ, and sank his teeth deep into the warm, dripping flesh, then held his trophy high overhead and let out a guttural scream of triumph.

Looking around, he could see the fear, and the hatred, in the eyes that stared back at him from the darkness, and something inside him changed. He suddenly felt very alone, surrounded by his clan. Ackaan lowered his hand and then his head, and slowly he walked away, into the night, as the others rushed in to feed from the flesh of the dead child.

He wondered aimlessly for a time, his head ached, and his heart still raced from the adrenalin, but his spirit was somber and subdued. Eventually he came to a clearing at the edge of the forest. A grassy knoll lay before him, ending abruptly at the edge of a cliff that overlooked a small valley, far below. He looked down and realized that he still held the now crusted organ in his hand, and he let it drop to the ground.

The night sky was filled with the light of the two moons but also with millions of stars which shown brightly all around them. He walked out onto the meadow, and felt the grass beneath his feet, and between his toes, it was cool and pleasant and he began to smile. The adrenalin was now all but gone, and he wanted to lay down in the soft, cool grass and sleep, but his instincts would not allow it, there was too much exposure, too much danger.

He walked on until the grass turned to dirt, and the dirt to rock, as he approached the edge of the precipice. He stood looking down on the valley below, and he felt the events of the last few hours take their toll on his mind.

A rambling brook wound through the valley below as it found its way to a small pond, far off into the distance. The light of the moons and stars danced across the waters and sparkled like the night sky itself.

With his adrenalin now fully spent, fatigue took over as Ackaan sat down on the edge of the cliff and stared off into the distance. Something was bothering him, something he had not felt before. Perhaps it was the blow to his head or the fear and adrenalin in his blood, but he began to have thoughts of doubt and uncertainty, thoughts that made him feel troubled and uneasy.

The boy was so young, why was that now bothering him? Had he been wrong? Maybe, the two were just out foraging. Maybe they never intended to attack him at all. What if it was just a father and son looking for food, and he had been the aggressor, not them? Perhaps the boy was only trying to protect his father. Slowly he reached up to touch the scar on his face, and was surprised to find a tear there, on his cheek.

Ackaan put his head in his hands and began to moan softly. What was happening to him? Why was he having these thoughts? He raised his head from its rest, looked up at the two moons, and then let out a cry that echoed through the valley walls far into the distance.

He sat silently for a long time, staring at the stars, hoping the thoughts would go away, but they only grew stronger. Finally, in frustration, he got to his feet, and began the journey back. The others would long since have ravaged the carcass, and gone back to their beds. He needed sleep, maybe in the morning his head would feel better, and the thoughts would be gone.

As he walked back across the knoll, towards the trees, his ears suddenly turned at the sound of air hissing from somewhere off in the distance. He turned quickly, and looked into the night sky as his eyes caught the movement of a small blue star. At first, it looked the same as all the other stars, as it moved slowly along the horizon, then it began to grow in size and brightness. Within seconds, it was the brightest star in the sky, and a few seconds more made it as bright as the lesser moon. It appeared to be coming towards him, and he began to feel the fear creep into his mind once more.

He turned and ran to the forest’s edge then, crouching in the underbrush, he looked back and saw the blue star just as it passed slowly over the valley. It now seemed as large and bright as the greater moon itself. It was long, straight, and narrow, like the trunk of the great Nigweena tree, but pointed and sharp on the end, and it was coming directly towards him. A bright blue light seemed to shimmer across its’ surface as it passed through the night sky, and a low rumbling sound wafted on the air as it passed overhead.

He remained hidden for a long time after it passed, until he was certain it was not coming back, and his caution allowed him to move once again. He slipped into the darkness of the trees, and continued back towards his clan. Whatever the strange blue light was, Ackaan knew that it was to be feared, and he hoped he would never see it again.

****

(On the planet Carsegian, a thousand light-years away)

Images rolled across the screen as Meecor began to download the information directly from the ship to his computer. The scout ship had arrived back from its mission only minutes ago, and even though it was his usual rest cycle, he remained awake to get a firsthand look at the data before anyone else could.

There were lush green forests, and pure blue waters as far as his eye could see. Photo after photo flashed across the screen, and with each one, Meecor’s eye grew wider, and his spirits rose. The mineral and geological data looked encouraging as well, as he scanned the symbols that flew across a screen to his left.

Like all the Gartume, he was a vegetarian by nature. In order to survive, he could eat the flesh of animals, and insects, but he preferred green leafy meals, and succulent fruity deserts, and there was precious little of that left now, but this new planet offered much promise.

A series of clicks and ticks streamed from his mouth and antennae, as he perused the screens in front of him. His language sounding more like a dog clambering across a tile floor than any kind of speech.

You’re quite beautiful aren’t you Meecor whispered to himself.

There was no one else in the room, he preferred it that way. A long sinewy tongue shot quickly from his lips and lapped at the dirty brown liquid setting in a nearby tray. His face contorted in anguish as the bitter substance burned his throat on its way down.

Crap! He rasped aloud. It will be nice to have fresh water once again.

He stood from his perch, walked over to a nearby window and stared out across the desolation that surrounded him. It had taken them only twenty years this time, to sap every ounce of resource from this planet, and her surrounding companions. This place too had once been a paradise. When they first arrived, there were green fields and lush forests, all teeming with life but now, over population, and unrestricted consumption had run its course, and there was nothing left to salvage. The time had come to move on.

The lids of his multi-facetted eye blinked slowly across its surface, leaving a dingy film in their wake that took several seconds to clear. The air, the water, every ounce of resource the planet had to offer, had been fowled beyond use, and if they didn’t leave soon, he would begin to suffer the ill effects of the toxins, which had killed so many.

He turned from the window, pivoting slowly on his center leg, then he seemingly floated across the room as only a three-legged creature could do. Nearing a small cabinet, Meecor reached out with one of his short arms and grasped the handle on a small drawer, pulling it open. Inside there was a large green fruit, the last one of its kind on the entire planet. It was the fruit of a Forbanna tree, and when they arrived, the planet had been cover with them.

The Forbanna tree was a huge organism, standing hundreds of feet tall, and living for thousands of years, and they numbered in the trillions. This was the last fruit, from the last tree, and once it was gone, the Forbanna tree was gone, forever. It was the last of many thousands he had consumed over the years, and just one of the many privileges afforded to him as the supreme leader of their race.

Taking it out, he closed the drawer, and simultaneously transferred the fruit to one of his upper arms. Holding it close to his mouth, a single mandible from his lower jaw stabbed viciously at the leathery rind until it finally gave way, then his tongue sprang quickly, and sank deep inside the flesh of the fruit. Slowly he began to withdraw the sweet nectar, savoring every drop, as the orb grew visibly smaller in his grasp. When he was finished, the withered husk was place on the recycle pad where it quickly vanished, consumed instantly by microbotic organisms. The fact that he had just doomed a living organism to extinction did not even register in his mind. That’s not how a Gartumian’s brain worked.

Meecor turned, and left the data-center, moving quickly down a hallway to his office. The tech workers would have the information from the probe soon enough, he needn’t concern himself further, with any of the details. He perched himself behind his desk and began to tap away on the monitor which flipped up automatically as he was seated. An hour later, when he was finished, he sat back and eyed the results on the screen. As usual, his timing was nearly perfect. Given the scope of their existence, for him to be within a few months of being on schedule was nothing short of miraculous.

It would be hours before the techs had anything for his approval, so he leaned back in his seat, and contemplated the plight of his people, and why they were destined to roam the galaxy for eternity. There was little else to do for now, at least a hundred million more of his brethren would have to die before he would order the loading of the ship.

The Gartume were a nomadic species, or at least they had been for thousands of generations, but they hadn’t always been. Millennia ago, they were keepers of their own world, content to live their lives in galactic obscurity.

Then came the change, and nothing was ever the same after that. The gods had intervened, something from outside, was brought into their world, was introduced into their lives, and they began to grow.

For millions of years they had been a small insignificant insect, on a large but insignificant planet. A world too large for their small minds to comprehend. Then suddenly, they began to change, they began to understand their surroundings. They began to ask questions, and more importantly look for answers, and their bodies began to change as well. After a hundred generations, what emerged was a mixture of animal, and insect, that became the Gartume.

They had evolved rapidly, on an evolutionary scale, moving up the food chain, from an insect with little or no aggressive tendencies, to the dominant species roaming their planet.

There were two things that drove them, one was a massive intellect, and the other, an insatiable need to reproduce, and since the Gartume could live for hundreds of years, and produce thousands of offspring, this meant certain doom for their existence.

Their home world of Rannuma was a huge planet, with massive stores of food and resource, but soon they were pushing the limits of their world. They developed technology quickly, and within just a few thousand years, they had ventured into space, traveling throughout their own solar system, at sub-light speeds, in search of new resources to plunder. They colonized those other worlds, but within a few centuries, they had exhausted that resource as well, and they began the first of many mass dying’s.

There were other star systems of course, other resources to consume, but at sub-light speed, they were thousands of years away. Their technology would not allow them to travel more than a few decades before running out of supplies.

They developed light-speed technology, but the only means of obtaining the necessary ingredient for light-speed travel, had to come from the Universal Council, they alone controlled access to Ellirium, the key element necessary for faster than light travel.

Even though the Gartume had applied many times over the centuries, they had always been denied. The council never revealed why they bothered to show up in the first place, but while billions of Gartume were dying, their elders negotiated with the council for a solution that would never come.

For some unknown reason, the council offered assistance, they brought in huge supply ships to aid in keeping the colony alive on the home world, but they would not grant access to the Ellirium.

Then, just as inexplicably as they had arrived, the council and all their ships were gone, they simply left one day and never returned. They abandoned the Gartume and left them to die. If it weren’t for the gates, they would most certainly have gone extinct, like the billions of species that were extinguished in their wake.

Shinkoom was a name that even today, millions of years later, held special reverence to all Gartume. Over the millennia, the story of how the gates were discovered had reached mythical proportions. One of the religious orders even held that Shinkoom was in fact a God who made a gift of the gates to the people. Meecor knew better of course, he alone had access to the full archive, and the truth about how the gates were found.

After the council left, the elders had sent out scouts in the fastest ships they could build. They were in essence suicide missions, for the scouts were given orders to go, and find new planets, or not to return at all. Tens of thousands were dispatched, but only one returned, Shinkoom.

It had taken him five years, but when he returned, he told of finding a place in the heavens where a ship could pass through a kind of gate that offered access to a new solar system. Desperate, and willing to do whatever it took, the decision was made that what remained of their resources would be used to build one massive ship to take as many of the Gartume as possible to the new world, leaving the rest of them on the home world to die.

A Gartume could go for weeks without water, months without food, but eventually they would die from thirst, and starvation. That first journey had taken nearly two years, and before they arrived, their supplies were gone. Chaos had reigned throughout the ship, thousands had starved, and still thousands more died in the fighting that ensued.

When they arrived at the new world, bitter rivalries and conflict grew, and for nearly a century, the Gartume waged war on one another. The unfortunate world of Miniara Three was the site of the Gartumian civil war, billions died, but in the end, what emerged was a stronger, more unified Gartume. There was now one supreme leader, one being, responsible for all, and lord over all. An all-powerful commander who’s word was law, and whose authority was absolute.

Since that time, the very first order of business, whenever they reached a new world, was to prepare for the next journey. The mother ship would be expanded, and repaired, her stores refilled to capacity. Only after all preparations were complete were the hordes allowed to roam free on the planet.

Scout ships, having been left at the gate, would travel, sometimes for years, to recon the next destination. Scouts were much faster than the mother ship. They traveled very close to the speed of light, sometimes taking only a few years to arrive at the new world, but often, like this time, it would take decades.

The cycle was always the same. Once the preparations were made, the Gartume set about ravaging the planet. It was the nature of their existence to destroy, and not replenish, to consume until there was nothing left to consume.

Their population would explode exponentially at first until the entire planet was engulfed, then, they would expand to the surrounding planets as well. As their resources began to dwindle, they would curtail their procreation, and begin the infighting and hoarding. Slowly, the planets would begin to die, and with them, millions of Gartume as well.

With a few possible exceptions, the process would take no more than a hundred years. The population would diminish, until such time as only the strongest remained, and their numbers were at a level deemed appropriate by the supreme leader. Then they would load up the ship, and move on to the next planet. Each time, the ship would be a little bigger, the population a little larger than it was when they had arrived.

When they landed on that very first planet, millions of years ago, there were fewer than thirty thousand beings, and because of the civil war, it took them more than a century to consume their new system. Now they numbered in the millions when they arrived, and the primary planet might be entirely consumed before the preparations for the next journey were even complete. Sometimes, it took entire systems to make the necessary repairs, and replenish the stores.

Over the countless centuries, thousands of worlds had been destroyed, hundreds of trillions of Gartume had lived and died, and still their species showed no signs of change. No physical changes, no emotional, or intellectual enlightenment, no evolutionary progress in their nature whatsoever. It appeared that their species had reached the pinnacle of their existence.

Most of the planets were uninhabited, that is to say they had no sentient population colonizing their surface. All of them contained a fair amount of plant and animal life, or the Gartume would not have gone there in the first place. Some were nothing more than overgrown rocks floating in space, but quite often they would come across a lush green paradise such as Darius Seven had been, a treat for the masses.

A few dozen of the worlds had contained sentient populations some of which were quite advanced, but none were up to the task of stopping the Gartume. Their advanced weaponry, and a willingness to die without question, proved to be unstoppable for all.

There were a few, whose technology more than matched the Gartume in a fight, but they were overpowered, or overwhelmed, by sheer numbers.

If the Gartume were out matched by the indigenous life forms, they would fight briefly, then go around them, like a tree grove in a prairie fire. Once all the planet’s resources were gone, whatever native inhabitants remained would simply starve to death. There was nothing that could stop the Gartume.

Centuries ago, on one of those planets, a recon satellite had been discovered. It was found in orbit around a world called Darius five. The inhabitants of Darius five were sentient, but their technology was not far enough along to have created a space-going vessel. It no doubt belonged to someone on the Council, but there was no indication of who had left it there, or what its purpose had been.

The satellite made the supreme leader’s job much easier, for in its data banks were the names of all the star systems in this quadrant of the galaxy, and their general proximity. Tens of millions of stars, hundreds of millions of planets, all waiting for the Gartume to come and visit. There was no information about the planets themselves, which made it necessary to send the scouts, in order to know their exact location, and what they would face when they arrived. The satellite simply made the future much more predictable.

There had been thousands of supreme leaders before him, and there would be thousands more yet to come. Meecor was a hundred years old, and just hitting his prime. With any luck he’d live another two hundred years, he was likely to see many more planets before his end.

He stretched his upper arms wide, while holding fast to the desk with his torso arms, so as not to topple over backwards. He leaned back into the monitor and tapped at the screen to bring up the images brought back by the scout ship once again.

The time stamp in the corner of the monitor caught his eye and he focused on the symbols. The fourth digit of the display flashed momentarily, then all four symbols suddenly changed, and a new epoch began.

Meecor once again focused his attention on the image of the bright blue planet, as a soft cooing noise emanated from his lips. We’ve completed another million years little one. He sighed, staring at the picture. Now let’s have a look and see how long it will take me to get to you?

He tapped a few more times on the screen, and a look of disgust, and dismay crossed his face. He checked the figures once more, but there was no change in the results. The gate was more than three light-years away, a long journey to be sure, but not insurmountable. The bad news was that on the other side, it was another ten light-years to the new world.

That’ll take us twenty years! He exclaimed loudly, then sat back on his perch once more.

Despite all the benefits of his exalted position, and the trappings of his office, there were times, he wished he was not the supreme leader.

Times like these were the reason he suffered bouts of deep depression and anxiety. The Gartume had made many long journeys over the millennia, some much longer than this one would be, but they were a great stress on the hive as a whole. Looking ahead to twenty years in space, knowing the sacrifices he would ask others to make, was more than anyone should have to bear.

This changes everything, he thought, the number of people he could reasonably expect to make the journey with, just went down by half. Now, millions more would have to die before he could begin loading the ship. Many more weeks, even months, would pass waiting for the right moment to give the order to depart.

Crap! He said, aloud, then he tapped back to one of the pictures and stared intently at the screen.

A deep blue ocean spread out to the horizon, dotted by hundreds of small islands, lush, and green with thick vegetation. Meecor let his mind drift, and for a moment, he was climbing through that forest, feeding on fruit, and feeling none of the responsibilities of his life. After a few minutes, he shook his head, flailing his antennae from side to side, willing himself out of his funk.

I can wait, Meecor said quietly, speaking to the planet on the screen. But tell me, my little blue paradise, what is your name?

He reached out and touched the monitor with the tip of his appendage, scrolling down the screen until he found the name of the planet. Then a slight grin tugged at one corner of his wiry lips.

I’ll be dreaming of you, my little blue Naru. He finished in a singsong voice.

Chapter 1

(On Naru)

The department meetings had run way over, and it was past ten o’clock when he finally returned to his quarters. It had been another long day, in a string of long days. Troy was glad to get his hands on an ice-cold beer, and settle in for the evening.

Kathy was making her second run of the day, down to the planet surface, and wouldn’t be back for several hours. That left him with plenty of time to relax, and work on his daily log.

They had arrived at Naru only yesterday, but Troy felt it was important to get the people down to the planet surface quickly before they started getting nervous or having second thoughts. They’d been cooped-up on this ship for eighteen months now, and even as spacious as the Organi was, there were signs of cabin fever in almost every area of the ship.

As he turned from the bar, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and realized he hadn’t had a haircut in over a month. He paused for a moment, contemplating the image, and wondering at the age that he saw in his eyes.

My God. He said out loud. Your still a young man Eastman, what the hell have you done to yourself? I’m surprised Kathy still wants to be with you.

He continued staring into the mirror, as he assessed himself. Twenty-four years old, and you look like you’re fifty. he thought. The hair wasn’t bad, truth be told, Kathy wanted him to grow it longer. His sandy-blonde locks would fall straight to his shoulders, and beyond, if he’d let them, but that wasn’t the image of a Captain that he wanted to portray.

Thanks in most part to the med-stations, his five-foot ten-inch frame still remained muscular, and strong. If he managed to get four or five hours of sleep each day, he had the energy of a young man, but that face, and especially those eyes, he thought, those are the eyes of an old man. He closed them, and turned away, unable to continue.

He took his first drink as he leaned back on the couch, and he felt the frozen crystals of the icy amber liquid tumbling down the back of his throat.

Personal note He said aloud, in a raspy voice, so the computer would begin its recording. I think we have found the perfect temperature for beer.

He took a second drink, then set the glass down on the table next to him.

Let’s see, Troy began. It’s day five-hundred and forty-eight since we left earth. Sam Allen and his team have established a base camp, down on Naru, and Sam is organizing efforts to set up temporary housing for the workers who are being transported to the surface. We chose a site near one of the ancient city ruins, and we’ll begin surveying the area as soon as the housing is squared away.

He took a wafer from the bowl on the table, stood up, and took a small bite from the corner, then wrinkled his nose and swallowed hard. Apparently, Kathy had been experimenting at the replicator again, and as usual, she had failed.

I’ve really got to find a way to keep that girl away from the food processors. Troy said, not intending it for the log.

I’ll tell her you said that. Bills voice came over the com.

Don’t you dare Troy replied. I’ll handle it in my own way. We don’t need a repeat of the infamous pizza disaster.

That wasn’t my fault. Bill’s voice pouted.

It most certainly was your fault, and don’t try to deny it. Troy said. I was sick the whole day, and the bad part is, I think you knew from the beginning, what was going to happen.

I knew nothing. The voice tried to sound hurt. Besides, I could argue that you needed the rest, you were working entirely too many hours.

My hours are my business, not yours, so butt-out. Now leave me alone, I want to finish my log.

There was a distinct humph, and then silence.

Whatever part of his brain Bill Jargensen had put into that computer, it contained all the personality, mischief, and sarcasm of the original Bill. He was fully integrated into the ship’s systems now. Troy couldn’t remember the last time he had heard the original computer voice, the one they had called Nova. It was Bill now, in all the daily ship operations as well as his own personal log. For the most part the voice maintained a strict professionalism, but on occasion Bill’s persona would immerge, and Troy would typically suffer the consequences.

It was Bill, the human Bill, nearly two years ago now, who had crashed one of the sub-light cruisers into an asteroid called Blackhawk 9, splitting it in two, and killing himself, in order to save Earth from certain destruction. Before he died, though, Bill had somehow managed to transfer a portion of himself into the ship’s computer to plague mankind, and especially Troy, for all of eternity.

It was comforting, Troy thought, to know that a piece of his friend lived on here in this ship, even if it was annoying, and more than a little frustrating, at times. It had been nearly two years, and he still missed his friend every day.

He tossed the wafer across the room some fifteen feet and landed it, dead center, in a waste recycling port in the kitchen wall.

Lucky shot Bill’s voice whispered softly.

Once the surveys start Troy continued, ignoring the whisper, and walking towards the model of Naru, and her moons, on the far wall. We will begin construction of permanent housing, and we’ll establish a system of government. The colony will not be ruled by military law if I have anything to say about it.

When he reached the model, recessed into the wall, he stopped to gaze at its beauty. Give or take a few centuries, this model was three million years old. The planet still revolved, and the moons still orbited just as perfectly as they had since its’ creators put it here. It was a hologram of course, but it looked just as real as the view from one of the observation rooms on the upper deck. There were clear differences though, between this hologram, and the real thing, setting just outside the ship. The most noticeable, was the smaller of the two moons.

In the model it was bright blue and pristine but the reality of today was quite changed. Today it was wrapped in an immense crimson ribbon, which lay across its surface like a decorative holiday trimming. The cause of the wrapping was a gouge in the surface which ran along its equator, one that exposed a bright red, iron ore layer, ten miles deep, a hundred miles wide, and a thousand miles long. With very little atmosphere to disperse it, the debris cloud from the impact had fallen back to the surface as the planet rotated beneath it creating the ribbon effect.

Compared to the model, its orbit was noticeably farther from the planet too. Initial scans of Naru showed a giant impact crater in the southern hemisphere. Computer models and a considerable amount of speculation concluded that an asteroid must have grazed the moon on its way to the planet’s surface. In addition to the cataclysmic events the asteroid caused on the planet itself, it would have altered the moon’s orbit, and created a completely new set of disasters on the planet due to the shift in tidal and geological activities. It was believed the event occurred roughly one million years ago, and the consensus was that all higher life forms on Naru, at that time, would have been devastated. The two moons, which moved in orbits far away from each other, in this model, now crossed the Naruvian sky as partners in an eternal evening dance.

Troy pulled himself away from his thoughts, and back to the issue at hand. Science team note He continued on. When time allows, I’d like a team to visit the garish moon to gather samples and test for life forms. The red, rusting, iron ore would indicate there should be enough atmosphere to support life. It would be interesting to see how far it has developed.

Garish moon? Bill’s voice queried.

The pretty blue one with the big red ribbon around it. Troy replied, waiving his hand towards the wall. You can call the other one whatever you want but I think this one is a jewel. The ribbon just makes it standout even more.

The Naruvians called it Nauctar, and the larger one Phantaur. Bill advised.

Ignoring the response, Troy returned to the couch, and sat down. He took a long pull on his beer then sat back to relax. The journey from Earth had been a grueling one, and it had taken its toll on everyone, himself included. He was looking forward to finding a quiet little clump of trees, in which to build a small hut, and spending more quality time with Kathy. Once the people had established their own system of government, surely they would leave him alone.

Closing his eyes, and thinking back to the beginning, Troy could still see in his mind’s eye, the small apartment in Boston, where he used to live. He, and a good many of the others here onboard the Organi, to worked at Draxan Pharmaceuticals in those days. Those were easier days for Troy, and a simpler time, Time he spent searching for genetic answers to the medical problems of mankind, and playing basketball at lunch with his good friend Bill.

Daniel Draxan, the owner, had been like a father to him. It had been a sad day when he had to leave Dan, and some of the others, behind on Earth, but it was their choice to stay, they wanted to remain behind, and he had to go on whether he wanted to or not.

Sitting quietly on the couch, he remembered the first time, in his lab, when he saw a strange little protein, hidden deep within a string of human DNA. It had started him down the path that ultimately led to the discovery of an alien ship. That protein, along with an entire genome, had been implanted in pre-humans some three million years earlier by the N’gi, the original inhabitants of Naru, in an effort to save their dying species. The N’gi planned for the DNA to lie dormant in humans until they evolved far enough, physically and mentally, to accept the kind of changes that it would bring to their species.

When the alien’s DNA became active in modern humans, it began to cause changes in the abilities and behavior of those affected. Higher intellect, and more thoughtful, less aggressive tendencies were but a few of the many new traits brought on by the alien influence. These changes enhanced their lives, but it made them a target to those who saw them as being different, and to their own government, who saw them as a threat or an asset to be exploited.

But, unknown to anyone, the true goal of the N’gi plan, the rebirth of their species, and the repatriation of their planet. If two humans with active DNA mated, the result was quite often a pure-blooded N’gi child. The first generation would grow to adulthood quite rapidly, and with the help of their parents, and the N’gi technology, they could then return to Naru and repopulate the planet. The N’gi just hadn’t count of the unusual cruelty of the human race.

The federal government’s Office of Special Resource Management, or OSRM, had pursued, and imprisoned thousands of these people at the direction of Thomas Coberly, under the auspices of national security. Daniel Draxan, as well as Jack Barker, and his security forces, had spent years freeing the victims of that oppression.

Kaylene Brennan, Draxan’s granddaughter, had joined the group after she left her job as a New York City cop. The three of them made for an impressive force against Coberly, and his agency.

On one of those rescue missions, a mission that saved Troy and Kathy, the director, Thomas Coberly, had been killed. The new director, Senator Marcus Ryan, was much less aggressive, but showed no sign of changing the government’s position. The impending doom of the asteroid Blackhawk 9 had given the government their motive, but even after Bill destroyed it, the level of corruption within the government had prevented them from allowing its existence to become public knowledge.

In an effort to escape Coberly, Troy and Bill had discovered the existence of the Organi, and retrieved it from the surface of the Jupiter moon, Europa. Its name, Organi, translated into English, meant Far Horizon. It was built by the N’gi as a science vessel, and in the end was tasked with carrying-out their final mission to save their species.

The Organi was over half a mile long. Like all N’gi ships, the exterior was rigid, and comprised of the hardest substance known to exist, so it could withstand the impact of small particles at faster-than-light-speed. The interior however, was almost entirely mad of liquid carbide polymers, whose molecules were controlled by gravimetric manipulation. That meant that with the exception of structural members, the interior could be programed to almost any configuration. All elements of the ship, both electrical and mechanical, were made of the same compounds. Tables, chairs, equipment, anything onboard the ship, simply formed out of the walls, floors, and ceilings in accordance with its programming. Electrical pathways were created by aluminum crystalline fibers woven into the polymers, and three-D visual recreations could be made to appear anywhere, and on any surface throughout the ship.

The Organi could sustain thousands of people for many years in space, so rather than trying to remain hidden on Earth, it was decided that Troy, and any who wished to go with him, would travel here, to Naru, to start a new life.

When they left Earth, he had agreed to be the captain, partially because he wanted to see to it that they were able to escape the deadly grip of the government who pursued them, but also because his experience, and his alien DNA, made him uniquely qualified for the job.

Now that they had spent nearly two years with the ship, that was no longer the case. There were many who had equaled or even surpassed his knowledge of the N’gi, and their technology. Surely now, once things were settled down, they would let someone else take over, and he would no longer have the responsibility of being Captain.

The learning tools onboard the Organi were meant for use on adolescents of their own species, but many of the adult human crew had discovered that they too could benefit from their use. In fact, the use of the learning units had become so contentious simply because there weren’t enough of them to go around, or enough hours in a day.

Abe Goldman, his first officer, was put in charge of organizing the activities surrounding the learning centers, and he placed administrators at the entrances to monitor the schedules, which had been established for use around the clock.

Their population had grown considerably since leaving Earth. Despite the presence of hundreds of elderly, there had been no deaths, thanks entirely to the N’gi medical technology onboard, and there had been more than three-hundred births since they first boarded the ship.

Trying to anticipate coming events, Troy had ordered a study done, and as that research team had predicted, just over two-thirds of all newborns onboard the Organi were N’gi children, two-hundred and six in all.

It was coming together now, just as the N’gi had planned it, three million years earlier. It was a plan that no one, especially Troy, had known anything about until a week before their arrival on Naru.

He’d been working in his quarters, when Bill made the announcement that there was a message from the N’gi. In the beginning, Troy had assumed, like everyone, that the N’gi would still be here, on this planet, ready to welcome them when they arrived, but the truth was far different than that.

The N’gi were a species of beings, very similar to humans, who evolved on their home world of Naru, and grew to be space travelers, exploring, and mapping the galaxy for hundreds of millennia.

When an unexpected viral infection threatened to destroyed their entire civilization, they sent a team of scientists to implant their uninfected DNA into pre-humans. The hope being that when humans evolved far enough, the N’gi DNA could activate, and true N’gi children would be born from human parents.

These true N’gi would then discover the space ship that was left, buried on Earth for them. They would return to Naru, and repopulate the planet. Having inherited a robust immune system from their human parents, which would protect them from any reinfection.

The ship was discovered by humans, before most of the N’gi were even born. So now, humans, and N’gi alike were here, and facing the challenge of starting a new life. A new beginning, on a planet where all evidence of the original inhabitants had been reduced to rubble. A planet where a new life paradigm had not yet taken root.

Troy startled awake at the sound of the door to his quarters as it hissed open.

Did you fall asleep on the couch again? Kathy chided him as she walked over, and sat down on the couch.

Sorry Troy murmured, wiping his eyes, and setting up straight. I guess I was sleepier that I thought. How did your day go?

Long, not as long as yours of course, but long enough. How did everything go with the council?

Don’t ask, Troy moaned. I just want to get to bed, we can talk about it in the morning.

You mean you’ll be here when I wake up? Kathy flashed a weary smile.

I’ll come back, and eat breakfast with you. Troy said, looking forlorn.

Kathy kissed him gently on the cheek. I’ll get my shower while you finish up.

When she was gone, he stood, and stretched, then took his beer glass over to be recycled. Where was I? He mumbled out loud.

Bill, let me see the transcript of the log, I’ve lost my place. Troy ordered.

You’re picturing her in the shower, aren’t you? Bill teased.

Show me the log! Troy Sneered.

The view screen appeared next to the bar as the transcript began to scroll down across its surface.

Hold it! Troy said. What are those symbols in the corner? Why haven’t I seen them before.

That’s the time stamp. Bill replied curtly. And it’s on every record I make, without exception. I can’t tell you why you never noticed.

They’re symbols, not numbers, what do they mean? What time system are you using?

It was developed by a race called the T’knel, one of the original founders of the Universal Council. It is based on the rotational cycles of the Milky Way galaxy, and displayed in Folian symbolism. It’s over four and a half million years old.

It’s only got four digits. Troy said. How can it measure millions of years?

Where the English system has ten digits, 0 thru 9, Bill explained. The Folian system has over one thousand symbols. It’ll last for a billion years.

Is their year the same as ours? Troy asked.

It’s close. Bill replied. Most species in the galaxy came from planets whose life cycles evolved around planetary rotation. The Folian system differs from Earths by about nine percentage points, in Folian time you would be twenty six instead of twenty four.

How much time does each symbol represent?

The first digit is roughly eight Earth hours, the second would be a year, or three-hundred and thirty-three days on Earth. The third digit represents millennia, or thousands of years, and the forth would be an epoch, or one million years. That’s actually only nine-hundred and thirteen thousand years on Earth, but you get the picture.

So it doesn’t measure anything less than eight hours? Troy was teasing now, having guessed the answer already.

There are two decimal places that do not display unless requested. That would take it down to three hundredths of a second, Earth time. Bill said wryly.

Well in any event, Troy said. I don’t have time to learn all the Folian symbols right now, so could you display it in Earth time, but make it relative to the Folian system.

Sure. Bill replied. It’s going to be quite a long number, twelve digits in all, if you count the decimals.

Just give me the last four, Troy said. And just one decimal, I’ll use my watch for the rest.

The Folian time signature remained in the upper right hand corner of the screen, while directly below it, five new digits appeared. The numbers 0020.1 displayed in the corner, encircled by a bright blue box.

What’s this? Troy asked, sounding annoyed.

You asked for it to be relative to the Folian system. A new millennium started twenty years ago, so this is how it would look. Do you want something different? Now it was Bill who sounded annoyed.

What’s with the blue box? Troy spit back.

I like blue, is that a problem? Bills voice rose somewhat.

Troy bit his lip in an attempt to quell his anger. Whatever Bill’s problem was, it was keeping Troy from getting done."

Enough! Troy almost shouted, then calmed himself as he read through the transcript.

Oh yeah, the meeting with Adam Santos, the head of the N’gi delegation, is scheduled for eight o’clock in the morning. I hope by then to have a decision from the council on how to proceed with regard to repatriation. It isn’t going to be easy, but with any luck, we should have a consensus by the time the permanent housing is ready. I’m not looking forward to this meeting, Adam has been more, and more distant these last few weeks. I don’t know what he might be thinking anymore, I can’t read him the way I do the others. I hope he’s in a good mood.

Not that a N’gi ever had a mood, Troy thought. He stared blankly across the room at the model of Naru, and her moons. End journal. He said.

By the time he got to bed, the beers were taking hold, and all the stresses of the day began to wane in their wake. Despite mutual fatigue, it had been several days since he, and Kathy had slept together, and they made passionate love in their low-gravity bedchamber, then fell fast asleep in each other’s arms. A new day would begin in just a few short hours, but for now, Troy slept with the peace of a contented man.

Chapter 2

Sam rolled up onto one elbow as a sudden rustling of leaves outside, jolted him awake. He rubbed his eyes, then stared intently, out through the open tent flap, at the dense forest on the far side of the encampment, looking for any signs of trouble. The heating fibers woven into the tent’s fabric gave off a faint amber glow, which bathed the interior in an eerie blanket of light, and shadow.

Outside, the glow from the double moons of Naru provided ample light for the sentries who walked the perimeter, and eliminated the need for camp lanterns, giving everyone some much-needed relief from the constant barrage of insects. He could see Chuck Johnston, one of the sentries, on the far side of the compound milling back and forth in no apparent distress.

Probably just a squirrel. Sam muttered, and lay back down on his cot, wincing from the pain in his shoulder. He