The Founder's Strain (The Age of Man Book 2) Read online




  THE FOUNDER’S STRAIN

  David Brush

  Copyright © 2017 David Brush

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN 13: 9780692822142

  ISBN: 0692822143

  To my family and friends. Your guidance and support have meant the world to me.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  The young sphinx peeked his head through the translucent cloth billowing over the open window in the shanty hut he shared with his father. Outside, darkness had enveloped the sky, save the tiny dot of white that shined through the otherwise solid veil. The boy’s tiny wings fluttered out from behind him, stretching wide before tucking back in across his shoulder blades. He smiled up at the speck. The lights from the nearby Terra Meridiani Colony usually drowned out that lone dot, but every so often he could see it, resting overhead like a distant reminder of a place that he could only dream about: Earth. He turned back into the hut and sat down on an old, rusted chair across from his father, whose fur-covered hand resting on the table top looked like a claw as he flexed the muscles in his wrist, extending the hard nails for a moment before retracting them back.

  “Dad, why do the humans not let us live on Earth with them?” asked the boy, looking up at his large father.

  The muscle-bound sphinx stared at the boy for a moment. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’ve heard the others say that one day, once the Plague is over, we’ll be allowed to go there. They say on Earth that all the ground is covered in stone and giant towers rise up into the clouds.”

  Harin Karosh flashed a small, sad smile at his son. “And so too on Sphandaria, Karo. Don’t forget your ancestral home.”

  “Mars is my home,” said the boy, looking through a crack in the billowing cloth, out across the dusty terrain of the refugee camp.

  Harin sighed. “Only by a technicality. If we could have stayed a little while longer, you’d have been born among our people, as I’d always hoped.”

  Karo cocked his head back towards his father. “If Mom can never leave Mars, then neither will I. Not forever anyway. I would like to see Earth one day though.”

  “When the Plague is quelled, I’m taking you both back to Sphandaria with me. Your mother would want to be buried near her family. I owe her that at least.”

  The boy walked over to the makeshift fire pit in the hut. He picked up a large branch and cracked it in half, throwing the dry pieces into the fading flames. After a moment the wood caught, sending a warm wave through the drafty room. “Why didn’t the humans save her? Is it because we attacked them?”

  “No, they tried,” said Harin, watching as his son broke another stick in two and tossed the pieces into the fire. “They don’t know how to cure it any more than we do. We’re lucky they let us stay here after everything that happened. We’ve underestimated their kind for far too long.”

  The boy cawed. “I thought you said the slugs saved them.”

  “They did,” said the elder, standing up and pulling his chair closer to the fire. “The Borrrian Intervention saved humanity from extinction. Long have we, the Xarkulthian Empire, battled the borrrians. For millennia our species have stood as the only true lords of this universe. Across the stars we fought, each trying in vain to outdo the other. That is, until we tried to wipe away the humans, that we might reclaim our lost fortress on the planet that they call Venus.”

  “Why did we need Venus back?” asked the boy, lowering himself onto his chair.

  “Truth be told, we didn’t. Ours are a proud people, son. We took the presence of a subspecies on one of our worlds as a grave offense. We fight not because we have to, but because we want to. Humans are similar in that regard. In the end, both of our kinds have spent so much time, so much wasted effort, fighting. We don’t battle each other because we’re different; we battle each other because we’re exactly the same.”

  “Are the borrrians that way too?”

  “No. The slugs see the universe in a different way than we do. They have no propensity for war. They’re more hive-minded to be honest, but they acclimated well to the reality of self-defense after encountering us. Now, after centuries of conflict, their military is as advanced as ours, though they still avoid using it when they can get someone else to do their bidding. Seeing an opportunity to draw blood, the slugs gave mankind knowledge that would have taken them a thousand years or more to obtain. We laughed, content in our belief that no civilization could hope to master centuries’ worth of technology in a few short months. After the downing of the Dark World, we no longer found the humor in their attempts.”

  “Is that when we blew up their star?”

  Harin laughed. “No, son, but we tried. If we had succeeded, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now. As we retreated from their solar system, we destabilized the sun with Dr. Mudaw’s monstrous weapon, the Solar Spear, hoping that we had seen the last of the ape men. Again, we underestimated their resourcefulness. Instead of dying as we had hoped, they conceived of the Forge and ushered mankind into a new age of solarworks.”

  The boy looked wide-eyed back at his father. “What is the Forge?”

  “A massive array of installations that keep their star from collapsing in on itself. Off on the horizon, away from the colony, you can just barely see one of the structures from here. Each of their four terrestrial worlds has similar assemblies. Together, they maintain the sun’s integrity.”

  “Wow,” said Karo, walking back over to the window. He pushed the cloth aside and looked out across the camp. On the horizon, a thin light raced out through the atmosphere, so faint as to almost seem like a mirage in the otherwise empty sky. “So do you think one day the humans will save us too?”

  Harin approached the window, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I hope so. Right now they’re the only hope we have left.”

  Dr. Johnathan Nightrick placed his hands on the wooden podium before him and looked around the conference room, nestled deep within the heart of the Neuro Corporation main campus. A sea of uneasy faces tossed and turned around the chamber, waiting for their leader to speak. Seated near the forefront of the room, only James Mercer and Haley Hall, the doctor’s protégés, looked to be at ease. James leaned back a bit in his chair, causing the sides of his unbuttoned red lab coat to hang freely over the seat’s edge. Haley, who was sitting right next to him, scanned her glazed emerald eyes over the dossier that had been distributed earlier that morning. Across from them, General Joseph Bismuth, wearing his finest olive service uniform, sat transfixed on the large screen behind Dr. Nightrick, which continued to flash numbers and statistics out to the gathered leadership.

  Nightrick cleared his throat. “As I’m sure most of you have heard by now, another ship arrived just outside of the solar system last night. It’ll be planetside on Mars by tomorrow morning.”

  “That’s the eleventh one this month,” said General Bismuth. “The pace is picking up.”

/>   The doctor nodded. “By Central Intelligence’s best estimation, in the next month we’ll be up to one hundred, and from there, into the thousands by early next year.”

  “That’s millions upon millions of refugees,” said Haley, looking up from the dossier. “Where are we going to put them all?”

  The admiral in the white suit sitting next to her leaned forward against the conference table. “We’re not going to put them anywhere. This is madness. Just because our species is the only one not being ravaged by the Plague doesn’t mean that we have some kind of moral responsibility to take in these poor bastards. Keep the ships moving towards sphingian space. Let them deal with it.”

  “A pleasant thought, Admiral Dorian, but I’m afraid your plan is impractical,” said Nightrick. “Just as many ships are coming from sphingian space as from anywhere else. Besides, the ships refuse to divert. We tried redirecting them initially, but the creatures onboard have little left to lose.”

  “Look,” said the admiral, sitting up straight. “Let’s not play coy and bashful here. Everyone in this room knows the solution to the problem, but I’ll be the one to come out and say it. We should torpedo the ships before they get here. If we throw open our doors to any more of these creatures, it won’t be long until there are more aliens on Earth than humans.”

  A low grumbling of agreement quickly fanned across the room.

  Dr. Nightrick waited until the chatter faded. “You’re suggesting we intentionally shoot down refugee transports?”

  “Damn right I am,” said Admiral Dorian, locking eyes with Nightrick. “It’s us or them. The fact that their planets are dying doesn’t give them the right to come to our territory and poison our worlds too. I say keep them out, or soon you won’t be able to anymore.”

  “I think you’re overreacting, Dorian,” said James, looking towards the admiral. “Refugees are the least of our problems right now. The bigger threat is the collapse of the Borrrian Empire. We rely on them to keep the Forge properly maintained and fueled. If it gets to a point where they’re unable to continue sending aid, we’re going to have to figure out a way to power it ourselves, and frankly, that’s well beyond our logistical capability.”

  Dorian shook his head. “Dr. Mercer, forgive me, but in the fifty-four years since the end of the Corenian Civil War, you’ve not once dealt with large-scale population migration. I have. When the insurgency ended, our displaced civilians didn’t just magically resettle in an organized fashion. It took a good deal of planning and orchestration to ensure that our demographics recovered properly. I oversaw the effort personally. Do you want to know what stuck with me more than anything else?”

  “What?” asked James, raising his eyebrows a touch.

  “The countries neighboring Coren that threw open their doors were consumed by the influx. Only those that demanded order and assimilation went unscathed in the aftermath. As you yourself said, this crisis is quickly surpassing our logistical tether. The military solution isn’t just the best option, it’s the only option.”

  General Bismuth sighed. “That we’re even entertaining this idea is lunacy. We’re not opening fire on civilian transports.”

  The admiral scoffed. “Maybe you’re not, Bismuth. All you’ve got is your flagship. The Titrant doesn’t have the necessary firepower. I, on the other hand, have the entire Sixth Fleet at my command. We’ll send the transports a fair warning, and if they ignore the signal, we’ll do what we do to every other ship that enters our system without permission. You can sit here all day and cast your judging eyes at me, but I’ll sleep like a baby knowing that at least one of us had the balls to do what had to be done.”

  Bismuth turned towards the podium. “Dr. Nightrick, you can’t seriously be considering this?”

  Nightrick frowned. “What we need to do is find a solution to the Plague before it consumes us too. Our immunity will be irrelevant if we get torn apart in the aftermath of the outbreak. We don’t have the infrastructure to absorb this many refugees this quickly. And though there’s much we could gain from them in terms of expertise, knowledge, and even perspective, it’ll all be useless if we lose our empire in the process. We have the distinct advantage, among all other higher lifeforms, of being unaffected by the pestilence. In that sense, it’s our duty to at least try to solve the problem. Admiral Dorian is right about one thing though; ours are a weak people living in a hard time. The ship isn’t the only reason I called you all here. I’ve had reports streaming in all day that the Sphingian Empire has deployed a fleet towards Dawn.”

  “You can’t be serious,” said Haley, perking up and setting the dossier aside. “Dawn is our frontier world in that sector. Are they trying to start another war?”

  “If they are, I can tell you confidently that this time neither of our species will survive it,” said Dr. Nightrick. “From what we’ve gathered, they’re trying to figure out how to cure the Plague by discovering why the lifeforms on Dawn share our immunity while all other life across the universe withers. I’m deploying the Third Fleet, under my direct command. We’re going to rendezvous with the sphingian fleet and make it look as though we invited them to join us in a cooperative effort.”

  “A transparent lie,” said Admiral Dorian, frowning. “And if you’ll excuse me, Doctor, why the hell are you sending the Third Fleet instead of mine? My warships have at least double the firepower.”

  “Because we’re not going to start a war, we’re going to prevent one,” said Nightrick, tapping the screen behind him off. “James and Haley, your dreadnought, the Eternity, will serve as our capital ship for the duration of the deployment. Trust me, Admiral, that vessel alone has enough firepower to level an entire sphingian fleet. They’ll get the message when they see that we’ve deployed it.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  Nightrick stepped down from the podium. “Then prepare the Sixth Fleet for war.”

  The Eternity loomed large above the planet, maintaining its orbit around the Earth as the small boarding craft broke the atmosphere to begin its approach. Cassandra Tang peered out the viewport of the transport, taking in the formation of the fleet around her. Smaller Zorian-class warships were slowly gliding into position near the massive battleship that she was racing towards. The engineer snapped back to reality as the pilot signaled to the cabin that he was beginning the final descent into one of the large hangars located on the side of the ship. She looked across the narrow aisle at the olive-suited general, who was her only other companion in the small craft. The bulky man had an undeniable strength about him, cloaked slightly by the bushy white mustache draped across his upper lip.

  “Feels good to be home,” she said, smiling.

  General Bismuth nodded. “It’s been a while now, hasn’t it? Ten years or so?”

  She nodded. “Haven’t been aboard her since the christening, but I still remember every single nook and cranny like it was yesterday.”

  “Well you built her after all. We always remember our own. I’m glad Dr. Nightrick asked you to join the excursion, even if it means losing you for a little bit.”

  “You’ll make do. The Titrant has a first class engineering department. I’m sure they’ll keep you afloat while I’m away.”

  Bismuth grunted, shifting slightly in his seat. “Keep an eye on the doctor for me. I wish he had the good sense to bring me along, but once he’s got an idea in his head, there’s no getting around it. I’m telling you, Cassie, without me nearby he’s going to get himself killed.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, grabbing ahold of the overhead stability bar as the ship descended into the hangar. “He’ll be in good hands. For what it’s worth, I think Dr. Nightrick is right to leave you here. Someone needs to oversee the solar system while we’re away, and it sure as hell isn’t going to be Admiral Dorian. He’s not abandoning you here. He’s leaving you because you’re the only person he trusts.”

  Bismuth flashed a small smile. “I suppose that’s true.”

  The sound of the s
hip’s landing thrusters cut out as one last jolt shook the cabin. Bismuth looked out the window at the bright grey paneling of the large hangar. Ships of all sizes were layered across the deck in neat rows, arranged for quick deployment. Outside their transport, a small procession had formed up, with Dr. Nightrick standing at the helm in his signature white lab coat.

  “Well, this is your stop, I believe. Good luck, Cassie,” said Bismuth as the engineer stood up to depart.

  “We’ll be back soon. Make sure the empire doesn’t fall apart while we’re gone,” she said, stepping out of the cabin and onto the deck of the hangar.

  Bismuth gave her a small nod. “That, I’m afraid, will be up to all of you.”

  And with that, the door slid shut and the transport roared back to life. Tang watched the tiny craft glide back out of the hangar and towards the Titrant, looming on the other side of the planet. As the afterburners faded into the blackness, the engineer turned to address her welcoming party.

  “Dr. Nightrick, it’s an honor to see you again,” she said with a small bow.

  “Welcome back, Lieutenant Commander Tang,” said the doctor. He gave a barely noticeable gesture and the black-clad Shadow Guard all stepped back a pace. “I’m glad you’re here. We’ll be striking out for Dawn shortly. I’m sorry to swarm you so quickly after your arrival, but I wanted a word with you before we depart.”

  “No problem. What’s on your mind?” she asked, walking up alongside Nightrick as he led the party out of the hangar and into a large hall that connected the port to a variety of other decks. The swarm of bustling people made way as the group walked along the corridor.

  “When we arrive on Dawn, I’ll be personally overseeing the operation from the orbital platform above the planet,” said Nightrick, turning to look out a large viewport at the remaining frigates soaring into position around the dreadnought. “I’ll need to access the computers on the space station if we’re going to figure out what exactly is happening down there. I’m sending the rest of the fleet around the planet to rendezvous with the sphinxes. Seeing as you’ll be one of the two senior officers aboard the ship once we’ve all departed, you and Commander Denova will be responsible for meeting with Fleet Commander Zarnok.”