The Phoenix Project (20 page)

    
The Admiral’s escape vehicle continued a
slow course over the lifeboats.
Excalibur
crewmembers looked up in
concern at the large, nearly coffin like pod being carefully and slowly
maneuvered into a smaller open deck above their heads.

    
Two technicians and an equal number of paramedics
nervously shifted their weight from foot to foot as the tomb hovered over the
upper deck and came to a quiet landing on the titanium floor.

    
The white clothed paramedics surged forward
with an anti—gravity gurney only to have the technicians stop them.

    
“Stop. You need the pod open first. Wait
here while we do our job,” one of the techs said.

    
“Just be quick. We were told the life sign
was unstable.”

    
The technician nodded with a somber
expression and yelled to his partner.

    
“Come on buddy. Act like your girlfriend’s
daddy was on your heels.”

    
The other tech raced to the pod with him.
He bent down to the melted alloy on the pod.

    
“Jesus,” he said to a smashed lock. He
looked at the large duffel bag his standing companion had hanging from his
hand.

    
“Gimme the welder, Mark. Quick!”

    
The bag dropped to the floor with a heavy
thud. His partner slashed the bag from end to end with the zipper. Mark dug for
the welder, producing it a second later. The other technician grabbed the faded
gray colored pistol from his hand the moment he saw it appear from the bag.

    
“No offense, Mark.”

    
“None taken, Ralph.”

    
Ralph aimed and pulled the trigger. The
welder emitted a bright discharge from its muzzle and began to cut through the
damaged seal of the pod. A tiny sputter of sparks flew from a growing hot line.

    
“Hurry up,” Ralph muttered to himself.

    
The line grew to three feet. Ralph relaxed
his hold on the welder’s trigger. He put both palms on the rounded side of the
door and lifted it upwards a foot. The light from the bay cut into a dark
capsule. Ralph shivered at the thought of being confined within its black
space.

    
He jumped back when the light uncovered a
white hand splattered with blood. Ralph’s whipped his head around to face the
paramedics several feet away.

    
“God almighty! Get over here!”

    
They ran to the pod with the anti—gravity
gurney between them. The head medic stuck his head into the capsule.

    
“I need a light!”

    
Ralph grabbed a large flashlight from his
belt and shoved it at the paramedic.

    
“Thanks.”

    
The illuminating instrument shone into the
capsule. Maria lay on her back in her chair. One hand rested on an armrest, the
other on the protective hull. Tiny droplets of blood had sprayed across the
capsule. A bright red smear had pooled across the right side of her uniform.

    
The paramedic forced himself to look at her
face.

    
He couldn’t help but pause at the sight. He
had never seen anything like it. The paramedic found his steadiness and brought
up a palm sized scanner. He raised it to the slim figure knowing the sure truth
printed across the stone of his face.

    
And then he gasped.

    
“She’s alive! Get the gurney over here. I
need oxygen and a coagulant kit!”

    
The other paramedic hurried to the edge of
the capsule and produced the needed items from a drawer in the bed. The medic
grabbed the medical devices and sprayed the effected area with the coagulant.
He then placed a small device over her mouth and nose producing oxygen.

    
They placed the gurney next to the open
side of the pod. One of them placed his hand on the inside of the ceiling of
the escape vehicle. He felt for the button he knew was there. A few drying
drops of blood caused his finger to slip before he depressed it.

    
Maria’s chair disengaged from its place
with a grinding of damaged metal gears and moved to the edge of the life pod.
Both arms of the chair folded down parallel to the deck. The two medics carefully
moved her from the chair and onto the gurney.

    
“Let’s go, Medical Bay One.”

    
Elliot Fredericks sat back after finishing
a well prepared plate of lasagna. He saw Ranik and Lathiel spoon the rest of
their food into their mouths and nod to each other in appreciation.

    
“It seems we arrived at an inopportune
time,” Lathiel said.

    
“I hope not. You may be what we need to
establish a lasting peace.”

    
“Why do you believe that?” Ranik asked.

    
“The knowledge that we are no longer the
only intelligent species in the universe may be enough to force everyone to lay
down their arms and forge an agreement.”

    
Ranik and Lathiel quietly looked at each
other.

    
“You disagree?” Elliot asked.

    
Lathiel swallowed and leaned towards the
table while avoiding Elliot’s eyes.

    
“That has not always been our experience.”

    
“How many first contact situations has your
species been involved in?”

    
“Well over a hundred by now,” Ranik replied.

    
“And?”

    
“Some of them went badly,” Lathiel said.

    
“Some went very badly. The more violent
species we encountered actually started civil wars as a result of contacting
another civilization,” Ranik interjected.

    
“Hopefully, that won’t happen here.”

    
Joshua and Madison came back into the room
and sat down at their seats. Elliot saw the despondent looks on their faces.

    
“I take it things didn’t go well.”

    
Joshua threw a cautious glance at the
Ferine guests.

    
“It’s alright Josh. I’ve filled them in on
current events.”

    
“The Fleet Admiral disagreed with our
recommendations.”

    
“How so?” Elliot asked.

    
“His head got stuck in his butt,” Madison said. “Sorry,”
she said to the Ferine.

    
“Butt?” Lathiel asked.

    
“A different way of saying rectum,” Joshua
supplied.

    
“Your people are capable of that?” Ranik
asked in disbelief. The comment made Elliot clamp a hand across the smile on
his face despite his shaking shoulders. Madison
laughed outright to relieve her frustration. Both Lathiel and Ranik’s eyes
searched the situation in confusion.

    
“Some are,” Joshua said.

    
“We’re sorry. Madison was referring to an expression we
use. It’s a metaphor for someone who is being irrationally stubborn.”

    
The meaning sank into the two Ferine and
they soon joined in the laughter at the table. Elliot found their amused roars
cut through his reserve and he gave in to the spontaneity.

    
Lathiel stopped heaving for a moment to
interject his own metaphor. “We would say he’s too busy tripping over his
scrotum!”

    
The revelation of the alien saying brought
a second series of guffaws to the table.

    
“I am so glad you’re here,” Madison said to the
Ferine once the laughter had died down.

    
“So are we. Why does the Admiral have this
problem?” Lathiel asked.

    
“Politics, Lathiel, politics. Neither side
wants to lose face in this confrontation.”

    
“Nelson won’t back down unless the
Coalition does,” Joshua said.

    
“I see some things are universal,” Ranik
grumbled.

    
“Is there anything we can do to help?”
Lathiel inquired.

    
“I wish there was, but no. The situation is
out of our hands for the moment.” Elliot’s earpiece beeped. “If you could wait
for a moment, Lathiel.”

    
Lathiel fell silent and nodded. Elliot
thumbed the communications device at his ear. A hushed conversation occurred
before Elliot thanked the person and deactivated the earpiece. “There is a
truce in effect but it came too late. Several Coalition ships were destroyed as
well as one Alliance
ship. One of my friends was badly wounded.”

    
“Maria?” Madison asked.

    
“She’s in critical condition. I need to
leave immediately.”

    
Elliot arrived at Outpost Fourteen an hour
after he departed from the
Endeavour
. The outpost allowed him clearance
with little protest. The large station pulsed with piping and conduit, snaking
across its walls.

    
The hospital was easy to find. The layout
of the station was clearly marked on large accessible monitors embedded in the
walls on every level.

    
Elliot asked the nurse for Maria’s room
number at the information desk in the hospital’s lobby. She graciously gave the
admiral the room and floor number which he accepted with a thank—you. His
stomach twisted in the elevator as it stopped.

    
Upon locating Maria’s room, he cautiously
tapped the entry pad and the door parted into the walls. A doctor stood at the
bed in the private room. He regarded the visitor.

    
“Friend or family?”

    
“Friend.”

    
“This is past visiting hours. Please re—”
he began.

    
“I’m also an admiral,” Elliot interrupted.

    
“Alright. You can stay, Sir.”

    
“How is she?” asked Elliot.

    
“She just crossed the line,” he replied and
realized he should clarify his statement, “for the better. She’ll make it.”

    
Elliot looked at Maria resting on a large
hospital bed. She was unconscious and had a large technological prosthetic
covering nearly half of her face.

    
“Would it be alright if I stayed for a
while?”

    
“Alright,” the doctor said cautiously, “but
only for a while. When I say to go, you go, Admiral.”

    
“No problem.”

    
The doctor turned from his patient and
exited the room. Elliot sat on the chair next to her bed. He took her right
hand into both of his. He stayed through much of the evening worrying that she
might take a turn for the worse but his friend did not leave him.

    
The battle at Outpost
Fourteen is the strongest evidence of what might have occurred if First
Contact had not happened. The common view indicates that with a strong,
decisive strategy, the Alliance
would have prevailed in an all out war.

    
In this battle, post—tactical
estimates involved counts of forty—seven Coalition warships destroyed and sixty—one
more suffering moderate to heavy damage. If the war had not been called off, it
is very likely that the entire fleet of one hundred and twenty ships would have
been slaughtered.

    
Did First Contact save the Alliance or condemn it?

2299: Sunset on the 23
^rd
Century

by Ronald Scott

Chapter VIII

“I see it!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

    
“Calm your emotions,” Catherine said
softly. The group of twelve elderly people kept their eyes closed while they wandered
in the future.

    
“It’s beautiful,” Elizabeth said.

    
“Careful. Don’t let the images escape,”
Catherine said.

    
“Yes, I see them,” Victoria said.

    
A strange ethereal mist existed in the
center of the group, much to Alexander’s dismay. The mist seemed to fluctuate
and change as dim images appeared within it.