Part 2. Reconciliation.
Sam loved spending time catching up with his grandad, he just hated doing it at the residential home where his grandad now lived. It was depressing. Too many old folk, waiting to die. His grandad had hadto be moved from the flat he lived previously, far too many ‘mishaps’ while living on his own. Still, they’d managed to find his grandad a relatively nice home, with a room large enough for most of his belongings, including the rather large mahogany cabinet he hadowned for as long as Sam could remember. It has always been locked, too.
“ Still two sugars is it?”, his grandad bellowed from the small kitchen adjacent to his room.
“ Yeah, please.”
Moments later Sam’s grandad came through with a tray of tea and biscuits and placed them onto the coffee table in front if Sam.
“ Right young man, what have I missed?”
“ Missed?”
“ You and your father not getting along again I hear?”
Sam sighed. His grandad was right, mother must have been gossiping again. He was hoping not to bring this up.
“ Mmm, we haven’t spoken for a while now. Thing’s haven’t been right since I started University. You know how he felt about me doing this course”.
“’ Awaste of the boys life’ I think he said to me when he found outwhat you wanted to do. ‘He wants to spend the next three yearsplaying with computers when I could have him an officer in two’“.
Sam cringed, he couldn’t imagine anything worse than being in the army. He’d never get away from his father’s clutches then.
“ He can stuff the military up his regimental arse”.
Sam’s grandad fought hard to hold back the snigger. “Now now, he only wants the best for you, or rather what he thinks is best for you. Don’t take it personally. He’ll come round one day. I imagine it’s my fault he feels the way he does, I could never get him to pay attention to anything academic, and he hated computers. He’s just not wired like you and me son.”
Sam was very much like his grandad. Despite the sixty years age difference, his grandad was very techno-savvy. He’d grown up in the first generation to see home computers become commonplace in the late 20th century. Like Sam, he’d studied Computing Science at University (although things were very different then) and his grandad had spent his life writing software, most of which for the Ministry Of Defence. Best of all, his grandad shared Sam’s passion for computer games.
“ So how is the course going?”, Sam’s grandad changed the subject, seeing Sam was uncomfortable talking about his father.
“ It’sok. We haven’t done anything exciting yet. Apparently we don’tlearn about the uninet until next year”
The Universal Network, or uninet, was the successor to the Internet. The uninet was phased in from 2031-2036, slowly replacing the outdated Internet and its limited protocols. Amongst many other advances, the uninet provided improved bandwidth management and intelligent routing practices to accommodate the massive increase in global traffic. In 2028 the worlds population hit 8 billion and nearly two-thirds had access to the Internet. An upsurge of small, internet-only TV channel broadcasters and their growing popularity in the mid 20s prompted a trend that resulted in almost all television broadcasters to move to Internet only broadcasts by 2033. Finally, with the global demise of traditional telephone systems in place of satellite uninet access, telecoms companies also migrated to the uninet. The uninet became the single infrastructure for all media and communications across the globe. The old Internet Protocol became inadequate early on in this crossover period, and UP was launched. It was this history which fascinated Sam. Sam loved to read stories of the ‘golden days’ of the Internet. A time when the protocols and practices were still simple and when the subversion of corporate and government security measures was ripe. With the right software, and a little skill, any information was available to the adept hacker.
When he was a teenager, Sam’s grandad had been one of these hackers. So much so that when he was 19 he had narrowly escaped prison for repeatedly gaining access to Ministry Of Defence secret research files. Upon graduation, his grandad had little choice but accept a position working for the British government where they could keep tabs on him. Soon after, he was transferred to the Ministry Of Defence. Unfortunately, that’s where his grandad’s stories ended, he wasn’t allowed to speak of the work he had been involved in over the years. Sam couldn’t help but wonder what secrets his grandad guarded.
“ In other words you’re finding it a little boring, and my guess, a little easy?” Sam smiled. His grandad new him better than anyone else.
“ A little. I’m still really happy to be there though. I’ve met a lot of interesting people…”
“ I bet you have!”, his grandad laughed. Sam blushed.
“ With all the work you have on and the interesting people you’re meeting right now, I don’t suppose you get chance to play many games anymore…”, Sam’s grandad mocked.
“ You should see the latest one we’re hooked on, Annihilation. It’s awesome. You construct your own vehicle or weapons or anything you want that’s possible with current technology. If you can design it, the physics in the game will let you build it. Then, it’s up to you to use that weapon for your faction. I don’t do it justice Grandad, you should see it…”
After two hours of talking about Sam’s course and his new friends, and his grandad telling stories of things he got up to when at University, Sam said goodbye and left the residential home. Sam had chosen the University of Newcastle-upon-Tyne for its excellent Computing Science Department, and the fact that his grandad had chosen to retire there. It was just a 10 minute cycle ride from the small district called Jesmond to Castle Leazes - the University accommodation where Sam lived. He loved the University accommodation. His room was situated on the sixth floor of the high-rise building. By sheer coincidence there were also a few other first year computing science undergrads on the same floor. Each room was equipped with a uninet dish which allowed free uninet access, using a subscription provided by the University, to all undergraduates. Although obviously intended for research purposes, there was nothing to stop Sam and his friends playing global games in every spare minute they had.
Sam stepped out of the lift and walked to Alex’s room, number 607. He hammered on the door.
“ Oy! Alex? You in?” Shouting loud enough in case Alex had been sleeping or had his earphones on.
“ Yeahman, I’m jacked in. Hurry up – I need backup!”
“ On it!”, replied Sam before darting down the corridor to his own room, 615.
He barged through the door of his room, dimmed the lights, drew the curtains, threw his bag on the bed and lunged into his large desk chair. His terminal was already running. His terminal, his pride and joy. Sam had spent years saving up money to build this machine to the point where it was at now, as had most of his mates with theirs. Fortunately, Sam’s grandad being as understanding to his technological necessities as anyone could be, donated a lot of the cash. His terminal was equipped with 4 micrograms of QUEL, the qubit processing gel now used in most new computers in place of the old silicon chip processors. QUEL provided both processing logic and memory in a single substance, and Sam’s terminal core had more of it than any of his mates. Despite this, Sam already had his eye on some of the high density gel being promised by manufacturers for early next year. Sam logged a personal note in his head - must get round to telling grandad about that stuff.The small projector sat in front of him, connected to the terminal case under the desk. Sam donned his headset and placed each of his fingers into his set of navtips. Sam then flicked the power switch on the side of the projector and was immediately surrounded by the terminal’s holographic terminal operating system which provided a plethora of system maintenance and program options. Without hesitation, Sam lifted a finger and reached out to the largest icon in the centre of his field of vision – the Annihilation icon.
Grey-brown skies. Smoke. Thick smoke. Mud. Torrential rain. Panning through 360 degrees, looking for something familiar. Sharp movements. A mechanical whirring followed by a pressure-releasing hiss of pistons. The horizon bobbing as the mechanoid begins to move forward toward a scene in the distance. Green text in upper right vision. Movement detected. A faint, red superimposed arrow leads the way.
Crackling. Crackling. Noise.
Comms channel open.
Apache_Alex: “Ed. Ed you getting this?”
ED209:“Roger. What’s the situation?”
Apache_Alex: “We’re down 8, respawned in the northern quadrant. I’m the only transport so they can’t get back. I’m providing cover for the remaining 15 but taking fire from all sides. I can’t see or detect them.”
ED209:“Roger. I’m on my way. 2 Kilometres. ETA, 10 minutes”.
The clumsy machine whined its way across what was old grassland, trodden and damaged from thousands of weaponised machinery, clashing and exploding like charged thunderclouds. The immediate vicinity betrayed no evidence of the recent battle; removed by the system. Only bogs and puddles remained as a reminder of the hundreds of thousands of virtual solders who had perished, only to respawn at the nearest base, minus a few hundred points.
Echo’s of the previous titanic battle rumbled across the vast generated landscape as Alex fought to keep hold of the small foothold of land the clan had gained in previous battles. In their absence, a rival clan had attacked to regain what had been taken from them, and to re-establish their presence in this quarter. Sandwiched between a mountain range and a port base on the coast, the land was seen as having a tactical advantage; the mountains provided relative protection and the port a launching point for sea-based assaults on neighbouring bases.
ED209 was close enough now to see the events. Alex’s gunship circled around a small area, periodically releasing salvos of 2.75” folding fin aerial rockets in hope of causing his assailants some damage. The 1200 rounds of his 30mm cannon had long since been used up. Occasionally jets of tracer bullets or a beam weapon would emerge from the ground towards the Apache. Triangulation to the origin of these attacks and retaliation had consistently failed. The enemy on the ground was fast, very fast, and had excellent stealth technology. They appeared to be able to move between the half dozen composite buildings that were still standing with ease. Failing to be accurate enough to take out the enemy individually, Alex’s final tactic appeared to be to level the buildings nearing the most recent attacks. The result was very few buildings were left standing but anti-aircraft fire continued. Alex had been right, he needed backup.
ED209 stopped short of the small village and stood in waiting. There it was, the enemy fire flared into the sky. ED209 zoomed in on the origin. Nothing. Flicking to infra-red. Still nothing. Flicking to motion detection radar. Still nothing. By the standards of most of the characters that appeared in the Annihilation world, Sam’s recreation of the ED209 law enforcement droid was low-tech to say the least. For Sam, this made the game far more challenging and enjoyable. It wasn’t just the history of the Internet which fascinated him but the whole era. The final couple of decades of the 20th century appealed to him in a way he couldn’t explain. The technology was mechanical and tangible. Real, unlike now where everything was virtual and digital. Now hardware was merely a platform for binary computation and simulation. It lacked character and soul. Sam loved to watch classic sci-fi movies done pre-CGI. Even new releases of movies and games where the computer generated images were almost indistinguishable from the real world, Sam could tell the difference. It wasn’t the same and, in his opinion, never would be. “Give me model animation and pyrotechnics any day” he would often say to his friends.
ED209 was forced to take a closer look and fired up its stifle-jointed limbs. On approach another two attacks were directed towards the Apache. Now smoke began to bellow from the engine and Alex was forced to retreat to a safer distance. With 16 hellfire missiles onboard, each with an 8km range, the Apache was still a significant threat.
Apache_Alex: “you’re gonna have to be my eyes man. You just name the spot.”
ED209: “I can’t guarantee anything, they’re well hidden.”
ED209 was now amongst the remaining composite buildings. Stood in the centre of what could be considered the main walkway or high-street in the small village. In full view and intentionally making it’s presence known. The enemy was clearly adept at hiding, even when under attack. They needed to be lured into the open.
“ Command: Establish video feed to player Apache_Alex”. Sam instructed the system to direct ED209’s visual feed directly to Alex. If the enemy could be lured out of hiding and was spotted by ED209, it would also be spotted by Apache_Alex, allowing him to lock missiles onto the coordinates.
ED209 simply stood for a few moments, scanning the nearby area with all available scanners. Nothing. Now moving down between the buildings, the environment they had been placed in by the system seemed to convey the presence of the enemy. The sixth sense, it appeared, seemed to be active in virtual worlds. Sam knew the enemy was still here. Other than the tactical stupidity in leaving an area which appeared to be won over, he could feel their presence.
ATTACK. The red text flashed in the upper right of the screen. An overlay of the ED209’s schematics indicated the region of damage. A beam weapon struck from 10 o’clock. ED209 flicked through its available scanning modes. Yet again, nothing.
ATTACK. 7 O’clock. Man they are fast. ED209 manoeuvred to face the last origin of enemy’s weapon.
“ I have coordinates, firing….”, Alex roared across the intercom.
“ No! Wait!”. ED209 magnified the area currently lying under its crosshairs. Movement. The ground appeared to reshape. Mud moved. Puddles rippled. It was brief. The disturbance shifted left, barely visible. ED209 panned with it. Sam finally realised what he was seeing. Someone had taken advantage of a little known feature of the Annihilation world. The system, the physical simulation consisted not only above ground, on and under water, but subterranean too. The enemy was moving underground, and good at it. Most opponents Sam had faced couldn’t move that fast on the ground. The enemy was circling the group of buildings, taking pot shots at anyone within its boundaries. As ED209 panned to follow the subterranean disturbance, it stopped. A small, spherical turret broke the surface. Sam watched as something extended from the turret into his plane of vision. Then a beam weapon struck ED209 straight on.
ATTACK. 12 O’clock.
The turret rotated and another extension appeared. Now ED209 was being struck by a projectile weapon. Tracers bullets hurtled into the droid, ricocheting and sparking. Less damage was being caused than had been by the beam weapon. The subterranean aggressor was systemically testing its weapons against ED209 to determine the most affective. The turret rotated and again unleashed its beam weapon. Although not devastating, the laser was steadily causing further damage with each hit.
ED209 retaliated with two of its own automatic machine gun cannons attached to its upper limbs. The sound of high-velocity metal on metal echoed across the mud planes. The turret seemed unphased and struck ED209 with its laser. It targeted one of the cannons in a sustained burst. ED209’s left cannon exploded and dropped to the ground with a muffled splash. Shit. The schematic overlay showed black in the region where the cannon used to be. The remaining limb whined and a previously disguised rocket launcher unhinged from its casing. A white smoke trail cut across the landscape between the turret and ED209 as a rocket locked onto the simulated heat signature of its target and raced towards it. The turret vanished underground. In the resulting explosion, flames and flying mud, Sam could not pick up the ground disturbance indicating which direction the enemy had escaped in. Fuck.
ED209: “I’ve lost them.”
Apache_Alex: “So I see”.
ATTACK. 6 O’clock. What the fuck? ED209 panned 180 degrees as fast the machine would let him. Sam was starting to wish his gaming alter-ago didn’t share his passion for archaic robots. In most cases, the ED209’s firepower made up for its lack of speed and manoeuvrability, at least it did when Sam was piloting it. That was the buzz. Sam hadn’t spent half as much time developing his mechanoid in the Annihilation Weapons Development Package as most people who played the game, but he could still kick their arses. Except now.
“ Can I shoot yet?”, asked Alex across the intercom.
“ SHOOT!”
As ED209’s crosshair fixed on the turret, the coordinates were calculated and relayed to the Apache. Moments later a shower of virtual flame and mud filled Sam’s holographic image. His already dark room dimmed a few extra notches as the Apache’s missiles attempted to scatter the components of the subterranean enemy into a particle system. As the dust cleared and the sky became visible again, there seemed no evidence of destruction to anything other than the ground beneath the coordinates relayed to the Apache.
Apache_Alex: “Surely they didn’t… wait, detecting a heat signature. On you’re 9”. ED209 turned 90 degrees anti-clockwise to face the emerging sight. Rising from the mud appeared some form of craft, unidentifiable to Sam. As the shape slowly revealed itself, the chrome exterior and mirrored glass cockpit reflected ED209 as it stood evaluating the threat before it. More of the craft grew from the mud and expanded outwards to display sleek wings. The craft was being raised on platforms of some kind buried below the surface. Rear fins unfolded and the already seen turret expanded from behind what Sam assumed to be the cockpit. Shafts of white laser light stretched horizontally from the turret and slowly began to rotate faster and faster until only a white halo-like disk was visible hanging above. The platforms once holding up the craft now retreated into its fuselage and it hung there emitting a melodic hum. It was the most amazing craft Sam had ever seen. No game, no book, no classic science-fiction movie he had ever seen had portrayed anything like this. And what an entrance. As the awe gave way to jealousy, the reminder that this was a game, a competition, snapped Sam back to virtuality. The remaining limb of ED209 traced to lie inline with the cockpit. As ED209’s crosshairs aligned with the craft, its I.D appeared in small superimposed text: ‘void’. The movement was clearly detected and the craft’s chrome wings morphed to reveal an array of weaponry along their leading edges. Never, even with his vast gaming experience, had Sam been up against it like this. Never so completely owned. I’m not getting ED209 out of this one, its back to the drawing board for definite.
But the craft did not fire. Holding its position perfectly in the system generated gravity and 15 km per hour wind, the craft held ED209’s gaze.
Incoming call. Sam’s terminal informed him that someone was trying to connect a call to him. Not now! Go away!
Incoming call. I.D. ‘Dad’. Oh bollocks.
Either bored from the stand-off, or somehow knowing ED209 had real-world distractions, the craft pitched, rolled and flew away to it’s rear, narrowly missing the now rather pathetic Apache gunship waiting in the wings.
ED209: ”I gotta bail, Dad’s calling”
Apache_Alex: “Now? What was that? You can’t…”
Sam touched the flashing text with a navtip and the game faded into the background allowing the Sam’s Dad’s image to take it’s place.
“ Hey Son.”
“ Dad. This is a… surprise.”
“ Yeah, well, I just wanted to, erm, apologise.”
“ Really?”
“ Yes.” There was an uncomfortable pause. Sam could see in his dad’s face that there was something wrong. He looked worried. Sad.
“ What’s brought this on Dad?”
“ Nothing, nothing. Really. I’ve just been giving things some thought and I think you’re right. You’re better off having nothing to do with the military.”
Now Sam knew for definite there was something wrong.
“ Anyway. The reason I called was to say that I’m not going to be able to call you for a while. Things I can’t discuss are going to keep me tied up for a while, but I didn’t want you thinking that it was because of our last discussion. I want things to be OK with us. Which reminds me, how are things at University?”
“ Yeah, everything’s going well. I’ve met a lot of people who share my, er, interests and the course promises to be really interesting.” Sam was still trying to avoid the word “computer”. Experience had taught him that that alone could wind his Dad up.
“ I popped in on Grandad this morning. He’d like to hear from you if you get chance.”
“ I’ll try Son, I will. I just wanted to make sure you and I are OK. Are we OK?”
“ Yeah Dad. You don’t look OK though.”
“ Don’t worry about me Son.”
Sam’s Dad looked to refocus on something beyond the terminal he was using. Sam could here another voice in the background.
“ Listen, I have to go now. I’ll call you as soon as I can, alright?”
“ Sure Dad. You take it easy, yeah?”
“ I will. Bye”.
Colonel Frank Simmons ended the call and let his head fall into his hands. He felt better, the first good thing to happen to him for a long while. Before that call, everything had been going from bad to worse. At least he’d fixed things with his son. Despite that, nothing could rectify the pain at losing someone as a result of a direct command given by you, and that had happened just an hour earlier.
“ Sir. Sorry Sir but we really need you through in the…”
“ I’m on my way.”
“ Thank you Sir.”
Frank sat to take in a quiet moment, trying to evaluate what had happened. Since the incident, a United Nations military task force, lead by Colonel Simmons had been assigned to UWRI to determine the extent of the damage. It had soon become apparent that, despite the destruction of the wormhole apparatus, the wormhole terminus was still present on Earth. The problem was the other terminus was no-longer on Mars, nor was it being generated artificially. This ruled out the first line of action Frank had wanted to take: shut the thing off. Simply looking through the terminus showed anyone who cared to look that the new position of the end terminus wasn’t just a random position in space, but rather amazingly the terminus had moved to another planet or moon. Where this planet was was anybody’s guess. Security and threat assessment became the prime objective.
“ Using a remote probe is the standard procedure in a situation like this…”, Max Redford, the UWRI Director had said.
“’ Standard procedure’? We’ve done this once before and it certainly wasn’t a situation like this. We already have people there and we need to get them back!”, Frank had argued.
A large number of people had been stationed at the Mars terminus at the time it had relocated. Many of them had been contacted since and were all fine. They had been told to stay within the complex and to not, under any circumstances, try to go outside.
Following the OK from a brief sampling of the atmosphere and terrain around the terminus, Frank had put together a reconnaissance team to investigate. The aim was to simply take in the terrain, identify any threats – organic or otherwise, and return. The next stage would be to round everyone up and return them to Earth.
It hadn’t got to that stage.
“ On my mark sergeant your clear to go”, Frank had said into the microphone from the control room looking down onto the Earth-based terminus.
“ Go.” He gave the order for Sergeant Dave Hansen to begin leading his team through the wormhole. Sergeant Hansen slowly approached. He stopped briefly – apprehensive about his next step, and then ran at the terminus. Almost two hundred people were observing the reconnaissance team from observation boxes around the terminus; UWRI scientists, military and government officials representing each of the UWRI constituent countries, along with video feeds direct to presidents and prime ministers of each of these countries.
In front of them all the sergeant had collapsed into to a heap onto the alien soil.
The body had been retrieved by remote probe. He had died the moment he had left the wormhole. UWRI’s doctors were still trying to assess the cause of death, their scientists desperately probing the wormhole for factors which would cause it. Remote probes seemed to function perfectly once traversing the wormhole as did telecommunications through the wormhole. So what had killed Dave Hansen? It didn’t matter. Frank now knew all he needed to know. For now, humans cannot get through this wormhole.
Frank stood up from his desk, straightened his shirt and tie and ran his fingers through his hair. He let out a sigh. If I ever catch the bastards that did this…
“ Sir, I’m sorry to persist but they’re calling for you in the press conference.”
Sam was staring at the wall, in the direction where moments earlier his terminal projection had been. Now he’d much rather his dad had phoned for another shouting match. An apology was so out of character that Sam was now seriously worried. He wanted to refocus his thoughts, to think about the craft known only to him as void. How it had been completely out-gunned and out-manoeuvred him. He wanted to start modifying ED209, to bring it up to the modern day standards of weaponry. Oh the things he could do. But Sam couldn’t be arsed right now. What is going on with Dad?
Knock, knock. Bang.
“ Sam! Sam you in there?”
“ Not now Alex”
“ Sam you watching the news? Sam you need to see it, now.”
Sam reluctantly flicked on the terminal projector and opened the door to his room to let Alex in. Once in, Alex darted for Sam’s terminal and selected the news channel he’d been watching moments before on his own terminal. It was showing a live press conference with the caption “Wormhole disaster” in red text across the bottom.
“ Sam, do you recognise the guy on the left? I sure as hell do.” Alex pointed to a man on the stage to the left of man currently receiving questions from the press audience.
“ Holy shit”
“ Director Redford, can you tell us the state of the terminus station now, and how the occupants are holding out?”
“ As far as I know, everything is intact and as it was on Mars. We’ve managed to contact one hundred thirty of the people we know were on station at the time of relocation. They’re all fine. There are some of course who we haven’t been able to contact. However, we have told those we have contacted to stay put and not to try and search for those missing until we have had a proper evaluation of the structures in the station.”
The director pointed to another journalist in the audience.
“ Sally White, UGN. Director, can you let us know what you’re next move will be in trying to get humans to cross this new wormhole?”
“ I think the best person to address that question is our head of military operations, Colonel Frank Simmons.”
Frank took centre stage. He was tired. He had had a speech prepared but he had not had the energy to remember it. He knew before hand that he was going to ‘wing-it’. He was too drained to be nervous. Now, facing all the recording equipment and journalists, he wished he’d paid a little more attention to the speech he had been given.
“ There’s not a lot I can add at the moment. As you know, the leader of our first reconnaissance team died on exit from the wormhole, despite been fully equipped with state of the art atmosphere suit and scanning equipment. We detected no intervention with Sergeant Hanson, or any faults with his equipment. Our only theory at the moment is that traversing the wormhole itself killed him. We are currently working with UWRI to put together a more sophisticated probe to analyse the wormhole itself, as well as the alien world beyond it. We will release further information as we find it.”
As Frank was about to select another journalist to receive another question, a voice appeared in his right ear.
“ Sir, we need you in the control room. Now.”
“ Please excuse me ladies and gentlemen.”
“ What’s going on?” Frank asked as he was lead off stage by Lieutenant Pete Waters who had been assigned to Frank as his aide.
“ One of the station occupants claims to have seen something Sir”
“ Seen? Seen what?”
“ It may be best if you ask him yourself…”
Lieutenant Waters lead Frank through a network of corridors to the control room overlooking the wormhole terminus. Once there, the Lieutenant pointed to a terminal which was currently showing the oriental face of one of the station occupants.
“ OK, and you are?”
“ Daichi, Sir. Daichi Toyama.”
“ OK Daichi, tell me what happened”.
“ Well Sir. We heard some noises coming from one of the lavatories just next to the canteen where you instructed us all to stay. We sent someone in to have a look, and… and we heard a scream. He has not come out.”
“ A scream?”
“ Yes Sir, a scream.”
“ And how long ago was this?”
“ Ten minutes ago. We all ran out of the canteen Sir. We’re now all in a components store in sector 4.”
“ Right Daichi, do not go anywhere else. Just stay put – even if you hear noises. Is that understood?”
“ Yes Sir. Er, Sir. There’s something else.”
“ What is it?”
“The power Sir. It’s gone off. The backup generator has kicked in but the main generator seems to have gone off.”
Frank paused for a moment.
“Right. We’ll look into it. Daichi, do not worry. And make sure no-body starts panicking. I’m sure there is a simple explanation to all of this. OK?”
“OK Sir.”
“Is there anybody still left in the canteen now?”
“No Sir, I was one of the last ones out. It was empty.”
Frank ended the call. “What the hell is going on over there?”
“I don’t know Sir, we haven’t detected anything unusual on station sensors…”, the Lieutenant tailed off, focusing on flashing red coming from a terminal readout.
“What is it?”
“Erm, fire Sir. We have a fire in the canteen.”
“Fire?”
“Yes Sir. We seem to have movement also.”
“I told them all to stay…”
“Sir. The movement is outside the station, 10 meters from the canteen”
“Now the fools are roaming around outside? For fucks sake…”
“Sir, the movement is above ground. Six meters above ground. We’re getting it on external infrared… wait, we have a visual.”
Frank looked at the terminal. He was looking at a feed from one of the station cameras. Fortunately, the security observation system was one of the few systems powered by the backup generators. The camera was facing back towards the external wall of the station canteen.
From the top right of the camera image, what appeared to be a metallic sphere moved into view. The object moved slowly across the image, and disappeared off to the left, heading towards section 4. Then the camera feed turned black.