The Evolution of F.O.R.C.E.
Chapter 2 - Destinnee

Hisspat Zeck didn’t like prison life. For one thing, the windowless 9-foot square room was kept far too cold for his liking. The hideous orange jumpsuit he was forced to wear clashed with the yellow highlights in his skin. The rock-hard shelf the Humans called a bed aggravated his back. The flat pillow upon which he had to lay his regal head was covered with disgusting brown stains and reeked of mildew. The food was horrid as well. Bland, pasty, cheap. Hisspat had never thought about the relative pleasures of a stasis pod until he was deprived of one. A stasis pod allowed blissful, dreamless sleep uninterrupted by the obnoxious snoring of Emperor Terr Horcunt who happened to occupy the adjacent cell. Something had to change, or Zeck was sure he’d go insane.

Zeck was once again counting the number of cinderblocks in the walls of his cell when the door opened, and armed FORCE commandos ordered him out. Relieved by any opportunity to get out of the claustrophobic dungeon, Hisspat eagerly followed them. His curiosity grew when he was led to a dressing room where he was permitted to change out of the orange jumpsuit into his ceremonial golden robe of conquest with its beautiful, deep-red epaulets and matching cuffs. Finding the diamond glass tiara signifying planetary leadership on a nearby table, Zeck placed it on his head and studied his reflection in a mirror. Satisfied his appearance was awe-inspiring, he turned to the guards and allowed them to escort him out of the building.

An armored van was waiting outside the jail, and Hisspat was surprised to find Emperor Horcunt already seated inside. The Emperor was dressed in his golden Imperial Robes which had been cleaned of the blood from his broken nose and the stab wound to his leg inflicted by Whatsit when he interrogated the obstinate despot. Hisspat decided it would be best to let the Emperor hold onto the belief he was the chosen planetary ruler of HG-281. There’d be plenty of time to console the washout after he came to the realization the Humans had chosen Zeck as their sovereign.

“What’s happening?” Horcunt asked.

“I have no idea, Majesty. Perhaps the Humans have finally realized their inferiority and need our advice and guidance.”

“My thinking exactly. The first thing I’m going to do as I begin my compassionate reign over this backwoods planet is rename it. Dirt is not an appropriate name for a planet. Chrysalis II is much better.”

“I think the name is Earth, not Dirt.”

“Earth. Dirt. Same difference,” Horcunt answered with an imperious sniff.

***

The concrete tarmac between the three aboveground warehouses at the Nevada facility was bustling with activity as Tom stepped off the elevator. Forklifts placed skid after skid of food, water and medical equipment in neat rows. Four hundred FORCE commandos stood nearby, at parade rest, with their packed duffels lying by their feet.

Tom strode into the glaring sunlight and gazed up at the clear blue sky. Not even a high altitude jet trail marred the perfect view. Taking a deep breath, he savored the beauty his eyes beheld and whispered a short prayer of hope this wouldn’t be the last time he was able to enjoy life on Earth.

A whistle drew his attention. Off in the distance, he spied McPherson looking his way. Acknowledging McPherson’s waving arm, Tom headed towards him. Heinbaum shouldn’t be too far away.

Dr. Heinbaum was crouched over a laptop computer punching its keyboard. McPherson and Ernest Longarrow were peering over his shoulders at the screen. Longarrow was Heinbaum’s lab assistant. His patience while working with the peevish, quick-tempered physicist was legendary. He converted the doctor’s ideas to physical reality.

The scientific breakthroughs by Heinbaum and his team were impressive, but the ability of Chrysallaman spacecraft to maneuver at lightspeed eliminated Human reaction times as a viable option for flight control. Only an advanced computer operating in nanoseconds could hope to defend against such lightning speed.

Lloyd was the answer, but he had no real-time battle experience. Lloyd was an artificial intelligence computer developed by the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, more commonly known as DARPA. Conceived as a Layered Logical Object-Oriented Yottabyte Domain, the AI was designed to control the missile defense shield of the United States. Preferring the name Lloyd, the AI computer had the capability to track thousands of incoming nuclear missiles and destroy them with hypersonic projectiles fired from magnetic rail guns before the missiles ever became a viable threat.

The power produced by Heinbaum Kinetic Generators and the destructive capability of MA weapons had rendered nuclear missiles obsolete overnight. Not wanting to waste his time reinventing the kitchen sink, Dr. Heinbaum had decided Lloyd was better suited to be the central computer for Earth’s first outer space battleship. Control of the lightspeed capable spacecraft was the perfect way to use Lloyd’s vast data stores and ultra-fast computational abilities.

Miguel Roemer had supervised the installation of Lloyd into the Destinnee before he’d departed with Doug and Whatsit on the Salterr mission to Chrysalis. As Lloyd familiarized himself with the overall structure and electronic systems in the ship, he analyzed the fundamental design of the telepathic tokens. Working with Miguel, Lloyd discovered a way to use the tokens to communicate telepathically with Humans and Chrysallamans. Wherever there was a telepathic token on the ship, Lloyd could speak to and hear from anyone with telepathic abilities near the device. Lloyd became something of a rock star with the Chrysallaman crew members on Destinnee since they’d never been able to interact with computers except by manual keystrokes. If Lloyd had fingers, he would’ve spent quite a bit of his time signing autographs for the fawning Chriks.

As Human modifications to the Destinnee were completed, the new systems for offense and defense were tested in every way Jerome McPherson could imagine. Asteroids half the size of the Moon had been destroyed by the MA weapons installed on the massive craft; however, asteroids aren’t flown by experienced pilots and don’t shoot back at their attackers. Lloyd and the Destinnee needed to challenge a fully functional Asiddian battleship to prove their readiness for combat.

***

“Good morning, gentlemen. Have all the modifications been completed?” Tom asked.

Glancing from the computer monitor he’d been studying, Heinbaum replied, “The last changes were finished a couple of hours ago. Colonel Stoneman went for a test flight and should be returning shortly.”

“Excellent! Have our special guests arrived?”

Pointing at the armored van just coming around the corner of a warehouse, McPherson said, “Here they come now. This should be interesting.”

The van pulled up and guards opened its rear doors. Hisspat Zeck was the first to exit, and he bowed as Emperor Horcunt stepped out. Peering around at the assembled company of soldiers and believing they were an honor guard for him, Horcunt regally lifted his chin and strutted toward General Blunt. Zeck followed at a respectful distance.

Striding up to Tom, Horcunt looked at him imperiously and said, “Realizing the truth of Chrysallaman superiority is a first step on the journey of enlightenment. As you kneel before me, your education will begin forthwith. My benevolent rule coupled with instructional punishment for transgressions will eventually bring all Humans to new heights of rapture. You may now grovel before me.”

“Worship the Emperor for he is wise and compassionate,” Zeck intoned.

Shaking his head in disgust, Tom replied, “Shut your pie hole, Emperor. You too, Zeck. If you keep up the bullshit, I’ll have you both thrown back in your cells.”

Horcunt had no idea what a pie hole was, but one thing he’d learned about the inhabitants of planet HG-281 was they didn’t take no for an answer. The threat of being returned to jail couldn’t be ignored. Deciding he’d play along with the Human animal a while longer, Horcunt nodded. There’d be ample opportunities for revenge in the coming days. His train of thought was interrupted.

“We’re going to Chrysalis to rescue our people. You’re going with us.”

“Impossible!” Horcunt exploded. “I won’t expose myself to certain death on a suicide mission.”

When the expression on Tom’s face didn’t change, Horcunt whined, “I know you’ve seen the videos of our battles. Nothing can withstand the weaponry of the Asiddians. Only an insane person would dare confront them.”

Ignoring the lizard’s anxiety, Tom said, “You left your subjects to their miserable fate when you abandoned them to the Asiddians. Based on the courage and character of Whatsit, I’m betting a good number of Chrysallamans formed pockets of resistance to the invaders. I expect your people will welcome you back with open arms once we find them.”

Pleased by the look of sheer panic in Horcunt’s eyes, Tom added. “Don’t worry, Emperor. In just a few days you’ll be back amongst your loyal subjects.”

Chuckling at the reaction of the Emperor, McPherson reached into one of his pockets and tossed PDS necklaces to Horcunt and Zeck.

“You better put those on,” he warned. “They’ll protect you from Asiddian laser beams as well as misguided attempts by some malcontent Chrysallamans to assassinate you. It’d be a shame for you to get killed before we return to Earth.”

Hisspat hastily donned his necklace and helped the Emperor with his. He knew from experience the PDS worked.

McPherson touched the FLR bud in his ear, listened momentarily and said, “Colonel Stoneman’s back. He’ll be landing shortly.”

“Landing what?” Zeck asked.

Something huge blotted out the sun. Most people pulled off their sunglasses since they were no longer needed. A hot wind blew across the concrete as a massive structure floated down to the tarmac, pushing the air out from under it in a gush as it settled onto its four hydraulically cushioned landing legs. If it hadn’t been for the wide lighting strip circling the circumference of the saucer’s underbelly, they would’ve been in almost total darkness from the shadow cast by the huge craft.

The Destinnee was a little over twice the size of a mother ship. It was 1,200 feet in diameter and 320 feet thick. Around the circumference of its upper half were docking bays for ten scout saucers. An array of antennas jutted from the top of the craft. The hull was now dark gray with subtle black highlights instead of the original gold tone the Emperor had favored. The outermost edge of the disc shaped craft was lined with a glowing blue strip where the emitters for the force field and energy ray weapons had been installed.

The Chrysallaman starburst logos molded into the upper hull had been replaced with FORCE logos. Heinbaum had instructed his engineers to imbed thousands of LEDs in the emblems to make them glisten when the lights were activated. Jason had energized the lights, and they blazed in an undeniable expression of Human ownership and control of the gigantic vessel.

The landing legs were as wide as two-lane highways and sloped up into the interior of the craft. Forklifts began running pallets of supplies up three of the ramps, and the commandos started boarding via the remaining ramp.

“I like the new paint job,” McPherson said.

“Yes,” Heinbaum responded. “The gold tone was awful. Reminded me of a pair of shiny brass lamps my grandmother kept on her sofa end-tables. Hated those things.”

“What have you ignorant savages done to my flagship?” Horcunt gasped.

“Just a little remodeling and a few upgrades,” McPherson replied. “Knocked out some walls to create open space. New drapes, oak cabinets and some ceramic tile. Granite countertops.”

Smiling at the open-mouthed bulging-eyed stare Horcunt fixed on him, McPherson added, “You’ll simply fall in love with the new paint colors. Our interior decorator says her color scheme is one of the greatest achievements of her career.”

“Don’t forget Lloyd,” Heinbaum added. “He’d be very upset if you forget to mention him.”

“Thank you for remembering me, Dr. Heinbaum,” a mellow voice replied telepathically.

Looking generally in the direction of the Destinnee, Heinbaum responded, “Not at all dear fellow. What is the general state of readiness for departure?”

“At current loading efficiencies, Destinnee will be ready for liftoff in 33 minutes, 18 seconds.”

“Excellent. Have you been introduced to our guest Chriks?”

“Based upon my records, I recognize Emperor Terr Horcunt and General Hisspat Zeck. Good afternoon, Gentlemen. Your armed escort will guide you to your quarters. I trust you will have a pleasant voyage. If not, please note your complaints in writing and drop them into the mail slot marked File 13. I assure you they will be given all the attention they deserve.”

“Who is Lloyd?” Hisspat asked.

“Lloyd is our artificial intelligence computer. He was created as a Layered Logical Object-Oriented Yottabyte Domain, but he prefers Lloyd, don’t you Lloyd?”

“Most certainly, Doctor. The name Lloyd is derived from a Welsh adjective meaning gray and is Celtic in origin. The proud Scottish people are also Celtic. As a logical deduction, I am distantly related to the good Captain Jerome McPherson.”

“Have you been monkeying around with his speech algorithm?” Heinbaum growled as he stared at McPherson.

“Just wanted to help,” the red-haired demon replied. “A sense of humor never hurt anyone.”

“I’ll deal with your interference later. You will not turn Lloyd into your Scottish alter ego!”

Shaking his head at the never-ending spat between Heinbaum and McPherson, Tom said, “Sergeant Witherspoon. Take our guest Chriks to their quarters and orient them with the ship’s layout.”

“Yes, sir.”

Wide-eyed with shock and surrounded by FORCE commandos who nudged them into motion, Horcunt and Zeck walked up the troop ramp and disappeared into the bowels of the ship.

After they were gone, Tom said, “I have a few administrative chores to complete, and then I’ll meet you on the bridge.”

With those words, he strode up the ramp into the Destinnee.

Closing his laptop computer and stuffing it into a carry-on bag, Heinbaum said, “I hate to say this, but I’m excited about this trip. I’ve never had the pleasure of kicking someone’s proverbial ass, and I think I might get the chance in the next few days.”

Shaking his head, McPherson said, “Your job is to keep this spaceship and all its weapons working. Just leave the arse kicking to me, little buddy.”

“Perhaps,” Heinbaum answered with a look of determination. “But I wore my steel-toed wing-tips just in case I get the chance.”

Splaying his feet so his white and brown shoes stuck out from under his cuffed trouser legs, Heinbaum proudly displayed them.

Grinning at the ridiculous wing-tips and shaking his head, McPherson picked up the computer bag and followed Heinbaum up the ramp into the mammoth spacecraft.

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