The Evolution of F.O.R.C.E.
Chapter 21 – Shuttle

“I’m telling you they have powers beyond comprehension,” the guard whispered. “They simply appeared in the control room out of nowhere.”

“What do you mean nowhere? They couldn’t get from the landing bays to the control room without being spotted.”

“No, you don’t understand,” the guard hissed. “There was a puff of wind, and they appeared from nowhere! The entry hatch never opened. They had no space craft, no spacesuit, no armor.”

A crowd began gathering, and the frightened guard spoke louder.

“There were three. The red-haired giant had the stature and powers of Wrathor, God of War. He pointed at Sergeant Dunnock, and lightning flew from his fingers. Dunnock died with a hole burned through his chest. The black-clad Angel of Death sliced away the command chair with her Sword of Extinction, and General Harrier cowered from her rage. The Green Demon of Discontent destroyed the Weapons Control panel with a single glance.”

“Surely someone fired at them,” a voice from the crowd muttered.

“Yes, we fired at them point blank. Our disintegrator rays had no effect, and they laughed!”

With a nervous lick, the guard continued, “At the last moment, Dr. Vultura pointed his new white ray at them, and they vanished. Vanished into thin air!”

Someone in the crowd said, “The Winged Goddess has turned against us.”

***

“Slow to half lightspeed. Continue approach,” Harrier said.

“Aye, Sir. Half lightspeed. Target remains fixed.”

“Excellent. Communications. Broadcast the following message on all channels.”

Reading from prepared notes, Harrier said, “This is General Montrose Harrier. I understand Princess Peregrine is aboard your ship. She may be under duress or otherwise mentally incapacitated. As a show of good faith, I demand you release her from your custody. I will maintain a buffer zone of 1,000 miles and send an unarmed shuttle to transport her to me. Once I know she is safe and unharmed, I will follow her orders. Harrier out.”

A wicked sneer twisted across Harrier’s face as he walked to his ready room.

***

Vultura was looking more pasty than usual as Harrier closed the hatch.

“Have you finished loading the Pile-Driving Booby?”

“Yes, here is the detonation control. Push the green button to arm. The red one to begin the timer.”

“Excellent. You set the delay for 30 minutes?”

Nodding, Vultura said, “At lightspeed, 30 minutes will allow us time to be out of the kill zone.”

“You appear nervous, Vultura. Why?”

“The Booby bomb is a system destroyer. We’ll need 30 minutes of lightspeed distance as a margin of safety. It is too close for comfort.”

“They’ll assume we sent the shuttle as a diversion. We’ll confirm their suspicion by firing at them the moment the shuttle is cleared to dock with their ship. If our first shot doesn’t disable them, I’ll activate the detonation sequence and flee.”

“But they can outrun us. Their speed is unfathomable.”

“Precisely. They’ll see no reason to chase us because they can catch us with no effort. I’m betting by the time a decision is made to chase us, the bomb will go off.”

“But the Princess. . .”

“She was tortured by the Humans and their Chrysallaman allies after her kidnapping. Once the Emperor hears my tale of her demise, my valiant attempts to rescue her and my heroic escape, he’ll not stop until he finds the Humans’ home planet and destroys it.”

Admiring himself in a nearby mirror, Harrier imagined wearing his new rank insignia - Admiral of the Emperor’s Fleet.

Behind him, Vultura said, “The Emperor is smart. He’ll question us separately about what happened. If our stories differ in some small way, he may become suspicious.”

“Don’t be concerned,” Harrier said as he turned. “The stories will match.”

Vultura’s eyes widened, but any response died with him. It’s hard to speak when your body has been sliced in half by a disintegrator beam.

Placing a pistol in Vultura’s dead hand, Harrier called for his guards. When they learned Vultura had tried to murder their General, they weren’t gentle with his remains.

***

“They want to send a shuttle for the Princess,” Doug said. “So far, they seem to be cooperating with the truce.”

“I don’t like it,” Becky said. “They’re too cooperative.”

“It is strange he wants to maintain a 1,000-mile buffer zone when everyone knows that’s the killing range of the white ray.”

“Yes, but he won’t dare endanger the Princess. As long as she’s with us, he can’t fire.”

“Don’t be so confident,” Zeck counseled. “You’re dealing with the alien mind of a killer. All he has to do is engineer her death. We have put him in a position where he can eliminate anyone he chooses and blame us.”

“Let’s just hope Dr. Heinbaum’s idea works. Are we approaching the rendezvous point?” Tom asked.

“Yes,” Becky replied. “Everyone’s ready.”

***

The Human spaceship Destinnee hovered 1,000 miles from Thorncutter. Blast damage from their previous encounter was evident as the craft rotated. One of the FORCE Logos was dark where the white ray had speared through it, and the structure in that area was twisted and mangled. Even damaged, Destinnee dwarfed the Asiddian battleship.

Tearing his gaze from the view screen, Harrier said, “Release the shuttle. I want the Princess back in Asiddian protection.”

The pilots and guards manning the transport were volunteers hand-picked for their fanatic loyalty to the Princess. They had no idea the craft carried the rocket-shaped Pile-Driving Booby. Vultura had made sure the bomb was concealed in a padlocked lower hold. An enterprising pilot might have noticed the increased mass caused by the hidden payload, but the shuttle was designed for short hops ferrying troops and supplies. It was large and powerful enough to handle the bomb without noticeably affecting its flight characteristics.

“Approaching the enemy spacecraft. Am requesting docking coordinates.”

Radio transmissions from the Destinnee sounded routine.

“Asiddian shuttle, please proceed to Docking Bay 60. Confirm.”

“Confirmed. Docking Bay 60.”

“Remain aboard your ship. We will escort the Princess to you. Any attempt to debark will be met with deadly force.”

“Understood. Approaching designated docking coordinates.”

According to pre-flight instructions, the shuttle pilot kept transmitting a running video of his approach and docking maneuvers to the Thorncutter bridge monitors. All was routine until the ship tried to enter the docking bay.

The video feed began to get fuzzy.

“Wait a minute! Something’s wrong. We’re encountering electronic interference. Our cameras are being jammed.”

Per Harrier’s plan and Vultura’s programming, the Master Computer cut the video feed and played a pre-recorded message into the Bridge speakers sounding like it came from the shuttle.

“It’s a trap! We’re being boarded!”

Weapon fire could be heard along with shouted warnings.

Right on cue, Harrier said, “We have been deceived. Computer, open fire!”

The growling of the white ray as it left the spines was eerie. At lightspeed, the energy beam leaped instantly across the 1,000-mile distance.

It struck Destinnee amidship as if the FORCE Logo was a bullseye. A huge hole appeared as the ray bored through the structure, dissolving decks and bulkheads alike. Smoke and flames exploded into space from the interior, and the remaining outer lights flickered and winked out. The burned-out tunnel through the Destinnee was so large, twinkling stars could be seen through the tear in the hull.

“Direct hit,” Harrier bellowed.

The Destinnee began to list as its power failed. A cloud of debris developed around the craft. Arcing, blue-white electrical discharges leaped across areas of the structure.

“Severe damage with one well-aimed shot,” Harrier crowed.

“I can’t believe the dishonesty of the aliens. They lured us, took advantage of our good faith,” the Navigator stammered. “The Princess. Do you think she still lives?”

“We can only hope,” Harrier responded with as much sincerity as he could fake. “Prepare to transport our troops to the hulk. Orders are shoot to kill any and all enemies found alive. Search for the Princess. Find her!”

“Sir, LOOK!”

Following the pointing finger, Harrier’s eyes bulged. The Destinnee floated undamaged before him. All its exterior lights were ablaze except for the original mangled area in one of the logos. There was no space debris, no drifting cloud of smoke. Nothing.

Harrier moved to the Science Officer’s panel and twisted dials to enhance the image. The only change was the detail became clearer.

Without warning, a deep growl thundered from the speakers. It was the menacing, rumbling snarl of a ravenous beast, and its primal sound sent chills down the Bridge crew’s spines.

The animal noise was followed by a deep, angry voice. “This is General Tom Blunt speaking to you on the Alpha Channel. Your pathetic attempt to destroy us has failed and served only to provoke our thirst for revenge.”

There was a pause, and the only sound was the harsh breathing of the maddened beast.

“Because of your deception, I have summoned sufficient reinforcements to ensure your punishment is focused and painful.”

With those words, ships identical to Destinnee began popping into existence. Five, ten, twenty more Destinnees appeared until the Communications Officer reduced the screen magnification to accommodate the vast armada.

Desperation began twisting and gnawing at Harrier’s gut. “Computer, fire all weapons. Target the center of each enemy craft!”

Just as the spines twisted into position, all of space went black. One moment the view screen depicted multiple Destinnee sister ships moving into attack formation, then there was nothing. The blackness was complete. Featureless. It was like looking about a cave where no light had penetrated for thousands of years.

“What happened to the view screen?” Harrier demanded.

The Communications Officer flipped switches and studied readouts. “All systems are functioning normally. I have attempted to verify our position with known star patterns and satellite telemetry. Communications are inoperable.”

Sounding uncertain, Harrier said, “Computer, fire weapons at the last known enemy ship coordinates.”

The familiar growling sound denoting discharge of the weapons vibrated through the ship. The white beams could be seen clearly against the midnight black surrounding Thorncutter. The ebon cloud proved solid. Instead of blasting holes through it, the rays reflected and bored back into Thorncutter. Damage alarms began wailing, and the sounds of running feet could be heard in the companionway outside the entry hatch.

“Weapon fire ineffective,” the computer said. “The black cloud is acting like an impervious mirror.”

“Reverse course. Move us away from the enemy ships.”

As the Thorncutter increased the distance separating it from the Destinnee, the black cloud became tenuous. It faded away as the ship passed the 1,200-mile separation point.

Harrier licked his dry lips and thought furiously. The effective range of his white ray was only 1,000 miles. At this distance, its use would simply annoy the Humans.

Fumbling through his pocket for the transmitter, he clutched it in desperation. Stabbing the green button to arm the bomb, he pressed and held the red one. A light winked on confirming the bomb timer was activated and hope swelled in Harrier’s breast.

With a contemptuous frown, he said, “Navigator, emergency retreat. We cannot hope to win this battle.”

Like a scared bird, Thorncutter disappeared at lightspeed on a predetermined zigzag course designed to make pursuit difficult.

***

“Do you think the decoy will work?” Boottall asked.

“We’ll see. Now be quiet. You’re making me crazy,” Janniss replied.

Marshalling all her drone flying skills, she maneuvered Thurrggood to a dead stop 1,000 miles from the Asiddian ship. Doing her best to keep the tiny drone in one spot; she waited.

Heinbaum had been very specific. Any unplanned yaw or pitch would disrupt the depiction of the fake Destinnee being projected by Thurrggood. Any movement had to be slow and deliberate, or the ruse would fail. The Asiddians had to believe what they were seeing was the real Destinnee.

Makayla O’Connell piped through the radio chatter to help her keep the Destinnee projection in sync with the instructions being given to the shuttle pilot.

“Asiddian shuttle, please proceed to Docking Bay 60. Confirm.”

“Confirmed. Docking Bay 60.”

“Remain aboard your ship. We will escort the Princess to you. Any attempt to debark will be met with deadly force.”

“Understood. Approaching designated docking coordinates.”

“The shuttle is getting too close for comfort,” Janniss muttered.

“Just be alert,” Boottall said as he put his hand on her shoulder. “We passed into the danger zone minutes ago. You’re doing fine.”

His reassurances were calming. She liked his company. Her thoughts were cut short by a warning from Destinnee command.

“Ship is approaching outer perimeter of projection. Ten feet, four, one.”

Everyone knew the false Destinnee image would fail the moment the shuttle touched the projection. It failed as predicted.

The radio broadcast of the Asiddian reaction played from the speakers.

“Wait a minute! Something’s wrong. We’re encountering electronic interference. Our cameras are being jammed.”

Janniss and Boottall were concentrating on the shuttle when the white ray fired. Even though the ray was aimed at the FORCE Logo on the projection, it looked like it was coming straight at Thurrggood.

In a reflexive move, Janniss and Boottall ducked. The controller slipped from her hand and skittered across the deck. Scrambling to pick it up, she looked in dismay as the drone listed to starboard and with it the Destinnee image.

“Oh no!” she wailed, as she regained the controller and the drone began to straighten.

“I’ll never live this down,” she cried as tears dripped down her face. “Jumping at the sight of a killer energy ray coming at you is one thing, but dropping your controller is another. I’m a complete idiot.”

“I think you’re fantastic,” Boottall said as he squeezed her shoulders. “I couldn’t do what you do, and I don’t think anyone else could either.”

Covering Boottall’s hand with hers, Janniss smiled. At least she knew someone had her back.

“Brilliant flying,” Heinbaum bellowed from the speakers. “You sold the shoot-down. Letting the drone waiver and drop to starboard completed the illusion of damage. Wonderful work!”

Turning to Boottall with wide eyes, Janniss was speechless.

Boottall spoke toward the microphone, “Janniss just demonstrated why she is the best drone pilot we have – except for me.”

“OH!” This time, Janniss threw her controller at Boottall’s head. Laughing as he ducked, he lost his balance and tumbled to the deck.

“Ok, maybe we’re tied for best,” he grinned.

Helping him to his feet, she smiled and winked. “You wish.”

Kissing him on the cheek, she became aware everyone in Bowler Central was watching them.

“Your Bowlers won’t fly themselves,” she said with a little embarrassment as she returned to her seat with her controller. “Let’s bring on the new Destinnee fleet and see what kind of reaction we can get.”

***

“Should we pursue them?” McPherson asked.

“Not yet,” Tom replied. “We can catch them once they stop trying to evade us and settle down on a set course. Heinbaum and GooYee’s forcefield trick must have scared them silly. Who would have thought of protecting us by surrounding them with an impervious bubble? I wonder what it was like to be cut off from every energy source.”

“I don’t care. I just want to get my hands on Harrier. He needs to learn what dead feels like.”

“You may have to get in line. Jason, Doug, Becky and Whatsit are already ahead of you.”

The intercom buzzed and Tom said, “Yes, Dr. Heinbaum, what is it?”

“Dr. GooYee has discovered something of interest. Go ahead and tell him.”

“Something isn’t normal,” GooYee said. “The shuttle mass is anomalous.”

“Explain,” Tom said.

“Sensors indicate the mass of the shuttle based upon its dimensions and power module should be 22,680 kilograms. According to my instruments, it has a mass of 50,000 kilograms. It appears our Asiddian friends have left us a present.”

“You two meet me in Docking Bay 60. McPherson, come with me.”

***

The Asiddian transport looked innocent under the bright lights of Bay 60. Its crew had been removed, and nothing appeared unusual about the exterior of the craft.

Heinbaum and GooYee stood to one side making snarky comments about the craft’s design. They decided it looked more like a locomotive without a smoke stack than a spaceship.

Tom and McPherson spotted Doug and joined him near the shuttle’s main hatch.

“Has the crew been questioned?” Tom asked.

“Yes,” Doug replied. “Princess Peregrine herself interrogated them. She was as shocked by their stories as they were to see her free and unharmed. It looks like General Harrier convinced them the Princess was our prisoner and in fear of her life. The rescue party is all volunteer. They were ready to sacrifice their lives for her safety. They would do nothing to harm her and are unaware of any weapons on the shuttle other than their sidearms.”

Becky stuck her head around the side of the open shuttle hatch and said, “We found something hidden in the hold. Better get Heinbaum and GooYee in here on the double.”

***

“I think I’ve seen one of those before,” McPherson muttered as he squeezed into the shuttle’s hold. “It looks like the torpedo fired at us by the first Asiddian battleship we encountered.”

“Get Dr. Corvus in here on the double,” Tom ordered. “We need to disarm this thing.”

“If I recall correctly, the explosion obliterated the Ponndomer system. If this device is one of those, we need to dispose of it as soon as possible,” Heinbaum said.

“Your ability to understate must be a Human weakness,” GooYee replied as he placed a portable sensor near the top of the torpedo.

“At least I don’t test my theories on live subjects,” Heinbaum growled as he thought back to the Wi-Fi incident.

“Stop being jealous. My test lead to meaningful data.”

Heinbaum’s response was interrupted by the arrival of Corvus. The moment the fussy scientist saw the torpedo shape, sweat began glistening on his forehead.

“What’s a Pile-Driving Booby doing here?” he squawked.

“Your General Harrier sent it. Tell us what you know,” Tom demanded.

Corvus didn’t answer. Without hesitation, he grabbed a ratcheting screw driver from a nearby workbench and began trying to remove a panel near the top of the bomb. He was so nervous, the driver slipped from his shaking fingers. McPherson grabbed the driver and finished removing the retainers. Prying the cover from its recessed niche revealed a countdown timer. It read 7:59.

Corvus’ eyes went dull, and he hung his head. “Make your peace with whatever gods you have. We will all be dead in 8 minutes.”

McPherson grabbed Corvus and slammed his face against the bomb housing.

“Stop it.”

“I can’t. Once the timer is activated, the detonation sequence is locked. Any attempt to deactivate it triggers the explosion.”

“Then we simply chuck it into space and FLIT home.”

“What about Chrysalis?” GooYee asked. “It will be annihilated along with everyone on the planet. The whole solar system will be destroyed as well. You can’t do it.”

“We don’t have enough time to install a FLIT drive in the thing. It will take a couple of minutes to get everyone out and space it. We’ll barely have time to FLIT away as it is!” Tom bellowed.

The timer ran down to 6 minutes and 50 seconds.

“I have a plan, but I will need some help,” GooYee said. “I will I-FLIT the bomb to Cuddlur, but with the mass involved, it will require two of the devices to effect transport.”

“I will go with you,” Heinbaum replied. “I won’t let you take all the credit for saving Chrysalis with my invention.”

“Doc,” McPherson said. “You can’t be serious. There’s no time left. The odds of you gettin’ back alive are too slim.”

Putting his hand on the big man’s shoulder, Heinbaum smiled. “Don’t try to deny me. You know GooYee and I are the only ones who have the knowledge to pull this off. You’ve protected me from danger all these years. Please let me protect you for once.”

Tears welled in McPherson’s eyes, and he made no attempt to wipe them away. Grabbing the skinny scientist in a bear hug, he held him tight.

At long last he backed away. GooYee took a position near the front of the torpedo, and Heinbaum stood near its end. The timer showed 5 minutes and 30 seconds remaining.

“Lloyd, are you ready?” Heinbaum asked.

“Yes, Doctor. I have the Cuddlur coordinates calculated. Ready to execute.”

GooYee and Heinbaum placed their hands on the torpedo.

“Lloyd, enlarge our I-FLIT fields to encompass the entire mass of the object. Is there sufficient overlap?”

“I-FLIT field calibrated to encompass the mass of the bomb. Overlap is within acceptable parameters,” Lloyd responded.

“Doc!” McPherson cried.

Heinbaum straightened his shoulders. “See you on the other side my friend. Execute!”

There was a loud popping sound, and they vanished along with the bomb. A strong breeze ruffled past the people left behind. McPherson dropped to his knees and sobbed.

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