Legacy
Guide:
Chapter 1: Infiltration (0 yrs)
Chapter 2: Departure (0 yrs)
Chapter 3: Disappointment (7 yrs)
Chapter 4: Penetration (7 yrs)
Chapter 1: Infiltration (0 yrs)
Zzzzzzzz. A sharp buzzing hiss issued from the lock, and a small shower of sparks followed, along with a flash of light. Berg looked up and scanned the small storage room he was crouched in, his eyes straying again and again to the door, and his ears straining to detect any sound that would imply detection. From his position in the dark room, lit only by the glowing readout on his MicroWelder, he could see almost nothing, save the crates of tools and hardware, which rose in stacks towards the ceiling.
Berg, having paused long enough to ensure safety, returned to the painstaking task of arc-welding the hidden lock in the back wall of the room. Shortly following his escape from the Guard, he had detoured into the small room (which was more of a closet in reality), and ducked into the farthest corner. Only there, in the most unlikely of places, had his entire mission born fruit.
Suddenly, the radio hanging on his belt crackled.
"Berg?" He sharply twisted the volume dial to the minimum. "Berg, where are you? I can’t seem to locate your name in the databases anymore."
"Ken, listen. I found it. The rumors…" Berg paused as he remembered to keep his voice low. "…They were true. There’s some sort of secret, something they’re hiding from us. All I did was ask some questions, and the Guard tried to arrest me."
"The Guard?" Ken’s voice sounded apprehensive.
"Some form of secret police. They do a pretty good job of staying secret, apparently – that is, if you’ve never heard of them."
"I haven’t," was the reply. Suddenly, Berg realized that time was short, the Guard was so elusive, and that chances were they had high-tech tools and electronics, including radio scanners…they could be listening in on the conversation. He decided to encrypt his message. Pressing the button that would mangle the transmission, he gave the rest, confident of safety.
"Listen, Ken. My cover was blown. I’ll have to radio back later…I’m onto something big here…there’s a heavy-duty lock on this door. Have the Freedom Fighters ready. Over." He returned his attention to the heat sensor on his welder, and slowly applied pressure on the trigger, increasing the temperature incrementally until he saw molten metal pour out of the keyhole. Berg removed his handheld tool to inspect his work. He was satisfied; the lock seemed to be entirely obliterated. He pushed on the wall surrounding the lock, and was rewarded with a surprise. The entire rear wall of the room swung open, revealing a long, industrial-looking hallway. Suddenly, bright fluorescent lights flicked on, and the entire corridor was illuminated.
Berg was shocked at what he saw. The walls, ceiling, and even the floor were lined with millions of conduits and tubes, which most likely carried power. The hallway was perfectly cylindrical and about fifteen feet in diameter, and a flat metal grate ran through it at ground level, to serve as a walkway. The grate forked off at many locations to meet a doorway, which was built directly into the wall. The entire area smelled sterile and clean, but also had an air of industry, and Berg even got a slight impression that it was a refuge of some sort. It was built using only the newest technologies, and the bright lights that now lighted the scene were lined along the walls with the utmost care. The hallway went on for about a hundred meters, and stopped short at a wall, the purpose of which Berg could not tell due to the distance involved.
The analysis then began. He first walked along the grate for about ten feet, still taking in his surroundings, and then stepped onto one of the side passages and into a room. After further investigation, Berg eventually discovered that the rooms were evenly distributed along the hall, about every six meters. The first seemed to be a small manufacturing room, the second a power generator. Berg stepped into room after room in amazement, as it seemed that a sample of every aspect of human life – from cooking, to farming, to mining – were contained in the rooms. He hurriedly began inputting data into his handheld electronic notebook, which also served as a sketchpad.
Berg’s experience as a spy told him that he was wasting too much time. He ran out of the room, and jogged to the end of the corridor.
Here, the walkway did not enter the terminating wall, but instead branched off in two directions, down small hallways. Berg took the right path first. He stopped short when he noticed a small panel on the wall with a "green spike" readout. A burglar alarm. He looked closely at the panel, and noticed a small keypad with the first five Greek letters, Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, and Epsilon. After his successful infiltration to the military encampment, and during the time when he was not under suspicion, Berg had managed to learn most of the Greek passwords, including one very exclusive one, which had nearly resulted in his death. The password had been in a file labeled "Project Exodus". He pondered on this for a while, and then decided to try it. After all, he was trapped in a military installation, with his life on the line and guards searching for him, what else did he have to lose? He keyed in the password – Gamma Delta Gamma Epsilon Beta Delta. Immediately the green spikes halted their fluctuation, and he heard a humming sound cease. He had not noticed the sound previously, because it was a very low hum, almost a throb, common to all modern burglar alarms.
This is Project Exodus, then. He ran down the long hallway and opened the door.
He was in a church of some sort. There were literally hundreds of seats in the circular room. The domed roof was made entirely of glass, revealing the black infinity of space, marked with stars; Berg wondered where it emerged on the surface, and also how it could have avoided detection. The moon cast its light on the scene, and no artificial lights were visible in the room. No statues of specific deities were present, but the architecture was a bizarre hybrid of 14th Century Gothic, Middle Eastern, and many other styles. On a large pedestal in the center of the room were three very large heavy books. Berg walked up to them, suddenly aware of the great size of the room, and of its construction, which made reverberating echoes of his footsteps. He was in awe. Although he himself prayed to and worshipped God, he knew that he could have been executed for it at any time – religion had been outlawed for the past ten years. Why, then, in the middle of a high security military facility, controlled by the same despotic faction that had banned piety, would one of the largest religious centers be housed? With trembling hands, Berg opened each of the books in turn, poring over them for several minutes. A list of every deity ever worshipped was encapsulated in the first book, the second housed religious customs, and the third was a consolidation of many religious texts – the Bible and the Qur’an, primarily, but many others were also documented.
Suddenly, Berg looked up. The rays of the moon had all but disappeared, and only a sliver remained to be seen through the roof. Hurriedly he ran out of the room and into the opposite hallway. Punching in the Greek keycode as fast as he could, he almost performed a faceplant on the metal walkway sprinting down it. His intuition told him that he was taking far too long, but at the same time, he knew he should get some information to Ken. He burst through the final unexplored door, and froze.
He had entered an enormous underground room, the exact purpose of which was unclear. It seemed to serve as many things. The most prominent was a huge space-mission control center, but also present were a manufacturing plant, weapons rack, military training area, and countless other machines and electronics. All in all, Berg estimated the size of the room to be about 3 acres, and metal walkways, staircases, and elevators bridged the room, arcing over the ground-based areas through the 30-foot-high air cavity. It was on one of these walkways that Berg was now standing. Composing himself, he raced down a staircase and followed walkways that led him to the mission control area. It still struck him as queer that the entire underground facility should be deserted, but he pressed on, afraid of wasting too much time. He turned on all of the computer displays and stared at them for a few minutes in awe. The contents under Project Exodus were incredible, and Berg suddenly realized a wonderful chance for the freedom fighters. Within minutes all of the data was copied to his electronic notebook. He activated his radio, and sent all of the information to Ken along with a message explaining its origin. Almost simultaneously as the message finished transmitting, he heard a noise outside in the hallway – although the distance was great, the fragile empty silence could be broken easily. Berg felt a rising courage inside him. He was going to face every danger and acclivity that came his way, as long as he could get his vital information to his rebellious faction. He sent one last message to Ken:
"Ken, launch it, but wait for me.
I have information that should be crucial for escape.
Bring everyone…get them here within 24 hours. Tell Sergeant Karl
the entire story, and if he won’t listen, take whoever will. Get
off this forsaken Earth, and find somewhere better." He
switched off his radio, and awaited the source of the growing clamor
projecting from the entrance door.
Bring on the Guard.
* * *
EO Sergeant Karl Jerney sat back in his seat. As Elusive Operations Sergeant for the Freedom Fighter’s Faction, he had been told many exaggerated stories and tall tales, but none so distant and ridiculous the one that was currently tearing guffaws from his stomach and tears from his eyes.
"Listen, Corporal, I know you’re good with radios and communication, but truly are you certain that nothing went wrong?" Another laugh heightened his subordinate’s exasperation, which in turn merited yet another stream of tears and chuckles.
"Sergeant, Sir. Permission to speak freely, Sir?"
"Yes, yes, of course, permission granted." Another chuckle broke free.
"Sir, all of this is true, I heard it with my very two ears just an hour ago. I triple-checked the radio connections, and they had not been tampered with. The voice was most definitely Agent Berg’s, and the data he sent was not corrupted; in fact, it was some of the most legitimate and professionally-formatted I’ve seen.
"I do not doubt in the least bit my comrade’s explanation, and I intend to commandeer the launch program myself, if someone of a higher rank will not cede."
Ken’s manner was extremely impudent and forward, and not at all like the obsequious manner requested by the FFF’s rules. And yet, it gave the EO officer a small twinge of repercussion; in light of that his young corporal would address him in such a manner only in times of the utmost danger or need. His countenance became more serious, and his laughs more infrequent.
"Truly, Corporal," he said rather slowly, "you believe this? And if so, of what help can I be? Would you ask me to go straight to General Meers?"
"Sir, to serve as an answer that would satisfy all of your questions, I say now: I believe Agent Berg’s transmission unfailingly, and I do indeed think you would be of help by asking the General in person or by VidCom."
"Have you received any more transmissions, Corporal?" Jerney asked dubiously.
"None, sir, although my spy’s final communication was rushed, and there was apprehension in his voice. I fear the Guard, a secret police force, has captured him. Ken was now leaning forward in his seat, extremely nervous and jittery. "Sir, one hour has already passed. Berg requested that I assemble everyone there within a day, and the plane trip alone will take 120 minutes. I suggest we radio that everyone is to rendezvous there, and then save our own skins."
"Ken, I’m putting you in charge of this
operation. Commander, I am at your service!"
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Chapter 2: Departure (0 yrs)
Commander Haft sat in the very launch room that the spy Berg had once infiltrated, and looked at his main panel display’s readout. He glanced away and quickly observed the huge room. The walkways, which had been desolate just hours before, now were bustling with personnel of all kinds. One, a information manager, was in a great hurry and pushed past men and women without regard for any of the objects they were carrying or conversations they were holding. He shoved and bullied his way towards the commander, and stopped breathless before his chair.
"Commander. Many enemies are en route to this facility. As we penetrated the main command center in the installation, the crew managed to send an emergency distress signal. The estimated time for their arrival is 30 minutes."
"Yes, yes," the Commander apostrophed, "and what of the refugees, and the rest of the FFF? Who hasn’t arrived yet?"
"All of the refugees are accounted for, sir. Team 12 and Squad 6 are delayed in the forests, skirmishing with the enemy. They will not arrive in time to be inside, but they will be able to break the siege that the enemy will place around this area."
"No, they’ll have to be left behind. There’s not enough time. What of Agent Berg?" He said, leaning forward in anticipation.
"Sir, he isn’t present." The Commander slumped back in his chair. In his short 20-hour "reign" as Commander, Ken had changed a great deal. Now, after leading the task force to take over the base, leading the spy force in searching out the ship program, and guiding the rebels through the necessary actions, he had yet another huge decision to make. He ran his fingers through his light brown mess of hair, damp with sweat. He took a large breath, and exhaled with a sigh.
"Otto, how long before the 24 hours are up?"
Otto, a slight man with a dark complexion, looked up from his computer readout. He too was wet with perspiration. "Fifteen minutes, sir," the second-in-command called out over the din of the crowd, buzzing like bees as they went about their duties loading, packaging, and delivering messages.
Commander Ken turned back to the information manager. "That will leave us…how much time?"
"Only ten minutes before the enemy arrives, sir."
"O. K. We can’t wait any longer. Otto, start the launch procedure!"
Ken’s right-hand man had been forced to take a crash course in rockets, trajectories, and space flight. He mouthed a short prayer before responding. "Yes sir." Then his voice took on a more commanding tone, and he yelled, "Everyone, to your respective stations! We’re starting the launch."
The volume of the tumult rose to a roar as hundreds of people rushed to the doors to return to their launch capsules. The hurry was so great that within two minutes the room was cleared excepting the necessary personnel. The launch then began.
Otto alone had discovered how the huge capsules would get into interstellar space. Each room, which Berg had visited before, would launch off separately, and then join once in orbit. Then the newly formed ship would fire its thrusters and leave the Earth behind; it was an amazing feat of construction and engineering. Luckily for the rebels, almost everything was automated, and there were no complications. The gauges read normal, and the spike charts remained steady.
As the military base from which they had taken off from began to appear smaller, close to the size of a postage stamp, Commander Haft turned away from the huge monitors. He had just sentenced a rebel team, a squad, and a spy to their doom. It was obvious they would be shown no mercy after what their cohorts accomplished. A comforting hand settled on his shoulder. The touch seemed familiar, but Ken could not place it exactly. He turned to identify the consoler, and looked straight into the face of Berg.
"Berg?" He said incredulously.
"Aye, commander." Berg’s face wore a huge grin. Congratulations on your promotion!"
"But-but…" Ken was speechless.
"Ah, yes, I know, the Guard captured me. Didn’t I tell you to wait for me? You knew as well as I did that I could escape from those guys…I already had once, right?" Berg chuckled at the look on his friend’s face. "Commander, that was a wrong decision you made ten minutes ago. Luckily for you I can run pretty fast - that was a taxing sprint to the command capsule." The commander noticed for the first time that his spy’s clothes were torn and wet with sweat. His friend winked at him. Ken finally started to recover from the shock, and began to feel elated.
"Now you’re getting it!" Berg whooped joyfully. "I made it. We won. You won. Now, let’s find some use for that data I had for you."
While Agent Berg went to talk with Otto, Ken stood up and walked to one of the huge windows. He stood still for some minutes, reflecting, looking out to the stars and beyond.
Chapter 3: Disappointment (7 yrs)
"Prepare for probe deploy in five, four, three, two, one, launch probe." The turbo read out of the probe computer scanned the rate the probe was moving at. 30,000,000 mph. Commander Ken Haft was surveying the readout on the scanner as Captain Otto monitored the engine control. Berg Wild sat reading the heat shield controls. The heat shields could stand up to 600 degrees F*. Berg watched as the heat continued to climb up to 550 degrees. "The heat shields can't handle much more than this, Commander," he said, just as the probe's engine tanks surged and brought the heat up to 643 degrees. There was an sonic boom as the probe's fuel tanks exploded that sent a tremor through the Spaceship's massive frame. All the anxious men in the launch room gave a sigh, and Otto yelled out in dismay. The tired commander put his head in his hands. "Listen, Otto, we can't afford to give it another try, that was the second probe already, and we only have seven left."
"Commander, I really feel like this is the planet, if only we could get one probe on the surface I know this would be the right one." Otto looked to Ken's old friend Berg for support but he shook his head. "Otto, we've already wasted too much time on this planet, and I think it would be wiser to head on."
"What?" said Otto, "You agree with him?"
Berg smiled an empathetic smile at the enthusiastic captain. "Well, he is the Commander, and yes, I do agree with him." Otto looked at the commander, who said,
"Captain, I have lived on this spaceship for 7 years, just as you have, and I have never felt anything like I did when we came to this planet, but the risk is too great. I'm sorry."
The Freedom's crew spent that night in orbit around the planet they had decided to call Terre Verte, for the Latin phrase "Gray-Green Earth", But not all the crew were asleep that night. Commander Haft lay awake in bed, thinking of the time he and his friend Berg Wild had spent finding and operating the stealing of the Freedom. He had been twenty-one years old at the time. He remembered Berg's easygoing manner, and still, even after investigating planet after planet, he still laughed and said, "Well, one down, and only...oh well, it doesn't matter how many to go," whenever they lost a probe. When they started out from Earth, the spaceship, christened the SS Freedom, was equipped with fifty Atmospheric Exploration Probes. Now all that remained was seven. Then suddenly he thought, Berg would always find a way to get something done. A way to get a probe through the atmosphere - that was it!
Ken changed slowly into his clothes and walked down the corridor to the old launch room, now functioning as command headquarters. The main hallway was shut down for the night so there were no lights, but that was nothing to Ken, who, having lived there so long, and being the oldest resident, knew his way perfectly through the corridor. He fumbled with the doorknob and opened it with a slam. The whole room came awake, grabbing the few weapons that were to be had; Otto, Berg, and five other men armed with rifles faced the door, ready for action, but then stared at the commander, who, when he saw what he had done, apologized, and asked Captain Otto and Berg to come with him to the drawing room.
The the Commander, the Captain, and the ex-spy came into the planning room and Ken told his captain what he planned to do. He outlined his scheme to put through another probe. When he heard this, Otto went almost mad with excitement, but then cooled down when he heard the final layout.
"You really want to take the risk of using up precious materials on creating a stronger heat shield?"
"Really, Ken, I'm surprised at you," Berg exclaimed.
"Well, now we're both in the opposite camp," the commander said, "but yes, I definitely want to use up the supplies on what I think is a worthy cause." And so it was settled.
Chapter 4: Penetration (7 yrs)
"Prepare for probe deploy in five, four, three, two, one, launch probe." Otto gripped the arm of his chair tightly. Equipped with new heat shields that could stand up to 650 degrees, the last probe that was to be sent to Terre Verte was deployed again at 30,000,000 mph. As the probe cut through the atmosphere the temperature read a steady 550, until a surge from the engines brought the heat up to 639 degrees, then gradually dropped back down to 599, and then surged again. the crew waited anxiously with bated breath for the probe to explode, but miraculously, it surged only to 648.2 degrees and then it was through the outer atmosphere! The temperature immediately dropped to 300 degrees and the probe was to Terre Verte.
The probe transmitted back news of the best kind, and after waiting for almost eight years and surviving through almost fifty disappointments, Commander Ken Haft was sent good news.
"Commander, the probe landed successfully."
"Good. Send out the human-controlled probe module."
"Commander, probes on the planet have discovered that it is very fertile, from the samples, we think it could very possibly be inhabitable."
"Good, good. Continue with the tests."