Objectivity: The Atreei, #1

By S.M. Chapman

Just wanting to make the world a better place, that's how it was with young U.S marine, Matt Sparks.

Assigned to a night op at late notice, he could finally start doing his bit.

But something happened, which he came to wish hadn't.

And everything changed.

Compelled to act, Matt's path crossed that of disillusioned nurse, Steph Woods.

And as government forces close in, the two of them come to learn just how far the authorities are prepared to go.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.M. Chapman
• Release date: May 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9780648240655

Book preview

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To my wife, Beth Chapman, for putting up with me all these years; to my mum, Barbara Nock, and to my step-dad, Trevor Nock, for your support and your company for which I can never get enough; to Valda McGlade for everything you did for me; to SWAPS for helping me get back up; to Matthew Scherini for your friendship over the years; to Jodie ‘Triple J’ Hume for that second opinion; to Unknown Worlds for Subnautica, The Fun Pimps for 7 Days to Die and Ghost Ship Games for Deep Rock Galactic; to Neebs Gaming #WorldPeace; and to Tyson, my innocent, unassuming four-legged Maltese Shih Tzu. The bar is set only by those that know not that it exists.

1

MAELSTROM

And even as the wonderful music was still reverberating throughout the Objectivity, it seemed to freeze amid a truth that burned Veltrae’s words into their psyches.

The humans have fired on us.

Thrannicus was already motioning toward the exit as he exclaimed, Run. They had to get to the evasion chambers, the modules designed and built to safeguard Atreei lives should a catastrophic circumstance such as this ever arise. Nothing else mattered.

Just as that first step was taken, however, the unsettling thud of an impact in the distance seized his attention. Some sort of welcome had obviously smote the exterior. Thrannicus tried to maintain his composure as they continued to the passage beyond but a second hit of greater intensity caused him to almost lose his balance and he stopped, cold. Coursed by an anxiety the likes of which he’d never even imagined, let alone experienced, Thrannicus couldn’t – daren’t – move another inch. As if convinced that nothing could now prevent their being captured, he’d all but surrendered.

Coming up alongside, Veltrae could feel his dread. He attempted to reach out when the ship was rocked by an almighty explosion that tore a swathe through the corridor ahead, sending debris flying in all directions. Knocked to the ground and dazed from the blow, Veltrae started brushing himself down as from behind he was lifted back to his feet.

The force of the strike had brought Thrannicus to his senses, an irony that would not have been lost on him. The pods, he shouted, we’ve got to get to the pods.

***

In the White House Situation Room, the President of the United States of America, Andrew Collins, and the Secretary of Defense, Gerry Kemsley, were engaged in a private discussion. An attack had just been authorised on something that hadn’t been determined. They had known only of its approximate location: that it was somewhere above the state of Florida in the nation’s south.

President Collins was a solid fellow in his mid-fifties, a tad under six feet tall. He had thick black hair that was greying a little, adding an air of dignity to him. Sincere and genuine, Collins had not been president for long but he was well liked by the public.

By comparison, Defense Secretary Kemsley, in his early sixties, couldn’t have been more different. Somewhat thin and lanky-looking, despite being of smaller build (standing five feet and six inches) and balding, his persona – not to mention his position – more than compensated for his appearance. In fact, it could be said he bled a presence that most do not, and was a man not easily dismissed.

While they didn’t often see eye to eye, the President had chosen to retain Kemsley in the role and not just because, having held the position for many years, he had proven to be good at what he does.

What if this thing turns out to be Korean? President Collins asked him.

"Well you know, Mr President, we could just say it is, even if it isn’t," Secretary Kemsley winked.

The President stared at him. Gerry?

Let’s be honest, North Korea has been a thorn in our side for far too long now. This could be an opportunity for us, Mr President, and dare I say one it could be considered foolish were we to not take advantage of.

"Are you serious?"

The Secretary raised his hands. Just… think about it, sir. This thing we’ve shot at; suppose some of the public see it coming down. And you know what they’re like these days with their cameras and their cell phones. Someone’s going to tape that as it happens and it’ll end up on the news.

Perhaps against his better judgement, the President refrained from responding for a moment, giving the Secretary of Defense the chance to elaborate.

So we issue a press statement to say we’ve just downed a spy satellite above Florida. We call it North Korean, point the finger at those sycophants, and we’re gold, Mr President; we’d have the excuse we’ve been looking for to get in there and finally get that fucking shithouse cleaned up, once and for all. Clearing his throat, the Secretary added, So to speak, sir, and then smiled, wryly.

"You are serious, aren’t you?" the President repeated, ever more incredulous.

Mr President, they’re deranged, the Secretary furthered, unabated, they can’t even feed their own fucking people yet they’ll spend the earth on testing nuclear weapons and long-range missiles. And we can’t let that happen, sir, it’d be Armageddon for sure, the end of our fucking days.

Gerry, I’m not blind to the situation with North Korea, you’re not wrong about it, but unless we know for certain they’re behind this, I’m sorry, I won’t authorise anything against them.

Okay, Mr President, if nothing else, the Secretary said, now trying to appease him, "think about what our going in there would do for your presidency. We’d be heroes for making Korea whole again, and in addition to sending one helluva message to the Ruskies and the Chinks, the American public would lap that shit right up. They love all that sort of thing – fight the good fight, land of the free, and all that. They’re so patriotic they’d get behind this office one hundred per cent. One hundred per cent, Mr President. And I’m not saying there wouldn’t be collateral damage, but even then there’s nothing we can’t spin. They’d be eating out of your hands – hell, you’d win re-election in a walk."

Gerry, no.

But, Mr President–

No, the President exclaimed again, louder than before. He leaned in, adding, Gerry, unless you’ve concrete evidence they’re behind this, I’m not going to even entertain that kind of thing.

The Secretary seemed to back down.

"In the event that it does prove to be one of theirs… then we can consider taking such action. Rest assured you’d not find me wanting. The President put his hand on the Secretary’s shoulder. But not before, alright?"

Yes, sir, I understand, the Secretary said, though somewhat begrudging.

Good. So what does our intel say?

Unashamedly, the Secretary answered, Well, the situation as it stands, Mr President, is that no, it’s not Korean. Not just because our ambassador to South Korea has reported no unusual activity with regards to the North, but frankly, this level of tech is well in advance of their capabilities.

To have cloaked it so well?

"Among other things, but… yes, sir. I mean, were it not for that ozone variance above the Antarctic, I doubt even we would have picked it up."

And you’d say the same would be true for those in the Middle East?

I would, Mr President. Granted, it’s not that we don’t have our fair share of enemies in the region, it’s just that they’re not up to the task.

***

The system convulsing all around, Thrannicus couldn’t help but reflect on his colleague as both he and Veltrae navigated the shaft to the Objectivity’s lower levels.

Oblivious of the coming storm only minutes ago, this Atreei on his maiden voyage was the rock that was keeping Thrannicus from falling apart. And to think that conducting his first report on a Class-E was something he had actually asked for?

To observe so many so master the art of pretence, beholding such unassuming integrity was a breath of fresh air, and in one so young no less.

No, were it not for him, Thrannicus – his years of experience notwithstanding – wasn’t sure if he’d have been able to keep it together. He’d had one or two close calls in his time, of course – so long and distinguished a career, such things were bound to happen – but they were nothing compared to this. And not just for him, either, but for any Atreei.

This was as real as it gets, as real as it could get.

***

What about Russia, then? President Collins asked.

The Secretary sniggered. Russia? he asked. Really?

You don’t think it’s possible?

"You what? Kemsley quipped, doing his best to not sneer, his eyes wide in astonishment. Think this has Moscow’s handiwork written all over it, do you?"

So you don’t think so?

"Do I not think so? The Secretary again scoffed at the very suggestion. They’re thugs, Mr President; ex-K. G. B. You saw what they did in the Ukraine for crying out loud, blowing a planeload of innocent fucking civilians out of the sky. This isn’t their M. O. in the slightest."

The President sighed. Alright, Gerry. Who does that leave?

"Well, sir… I know I said it before but… there is the Chinese."

Absolutely not.

You’re sure?

I’m not doing this again.

I’m just saying–

"Gerry, the President interrupted, kicking it up a notch, I spoke with President Wang about all of this just a few moments ago."

You’ve spoken to him? About this? Already? the Secretary asked, his tone now a little insulted.

I have.

Mr President, I wish you’d have consulted me before–

Don’t go there, Gerry. The President waved him off. I trust the man. He reiterated it wasn’t one of theirs and that’s good enough for me.

Kemsley laughed inside – as if such faith in another could be possible. So that’s that? he asked.

"Yes, Gerry. That is that." The President had what he considered an excellent relationship with the Chinese – thanks to the rapport he shared with President Wang – and it wasn’t something he was about to jeopardise.

But, sir, if you’ll please…

No. The President raised his finger.

All I’m saying is; just be open to the possibility.

Gerry, you know what your problem is?

Taken aback by his question, the Secretary of Defense faltered briefly. Sir?

His hand again on the Secretary’s shoulder, the President smiled as he answered, You don’t trust anyone.

"I’m not your Secretary of Defense for my looks, Mr President. But we are dealing with an unknown here, and I think it’s best we cover all our bases."

I just don’t like shooting first and asking questions later.

I understand that, sir, but I don’t take chances with American lives.

What? the President recoiled, annoyed at the insinuation. Neither do I, Gerry.

***

Having suffered additional strikes, the Objectivity was threatening to fall apart around them. Another fierce eruption ripped through, knocking Veltrae to the floor again, but this time he realised something was wrong. The cognitive bond that links Atreei when near each other had been broken; he could no longer feel Thrannicus’s presence.

Back on his feet, he surveyed the scene, saw Thrannicus lying on the ground and rushed over, kneeling beside him. Thrannicus, Thrannicus. There was no response; he’d taken a nasty blow during that discharge and, though still alive, was now unconscious. With any luck, his injury wouldn’t prove any more serious than a mild concussion.

Veltrae picked him up, carrying him in his arms. The severing of their connection intimidated no end but he couldn’t yield to that; their survival depended on it. He just needed enough time to get Thrannicus to one of the chambers and then himself to the other.

***

Excuse me, sirs.

The two men absorbed in conversation, President Collins and Secretary Kemsley looked over to the Situation Room’s operations table. Amongst others, several highly-ranked military officials stood around it, chief of whom was General Walter Cornelius, a large, dark-skinned man in his late fifties. Coupling a deep powerful voice with a distinguished military career, the General commanded the respect of his peers with ease.

Yes, General, the President said, walking over to the table.

Our bogeys confirm we have struck whatever it is, Mr President, the General answered. We can see it quite clearly now, too.

Because of that impact?

General Cornelius nodded as he settled to a radar readout of the location. Outside of an unusually large mass of sorts, the object didn’t seem to be sporting anything by way of discernible features at all.

"What is that, General?" the President asked, confused by what he was seeing.

We don’t know, Mr President. Whatever it is, though, it’s certainly larger than we thought it’d be.

The President turned to face Secretary Kemsley. Have you ever seen anything like this before, Gerry? he asked.

No, sir, I have not.

"Well what do we know? the President exclaimed, frustrated at their lack of intel. All of this at my disposal, he said, arms outstretched, and we don't have a fucking clue what it is we’re dealing with, here."

There was nary a pause of thoughts as the Secretary of Defense floored the room with, "Mr President, we may have to consider the possibility that this thing… it might not actually be from around here."

All went quiet for what felt like a long few seconds as a stunned silence descended, each as if anaesthetised by the immensity of the implications. Following a blank stare, the President finally blurted out, What?

Well, it is a U. F. O., Mr President. And judging by its appearance it does indeed look like it might not be entirely… human… in origin.

Are you kidding me, Gerry? the President furthered, snapping at him. "This was your idea and now you’re telling me I may have just fucking shot E. T. down?"

The General put one of his hands up. Mr President, I think it’s important to not jump to any conclusions at this stage.

Fair enough, General, the President said, but as he glanced at the Secretary of Defense, he added, You and I, Gerry… we’re going to have words about this. He returned his attention to the General. We are to discontinue attacking this thing immediately, is that clear?

Yes, sir.

Mr President, are you sure that’s wise? the Secretary interjected. It may still be of hostile intent.

The President ignored him; instead further focusing his gaze on the General. "Is that clear, General? he repeated. We do not hit it again."

Yes, Mr President.

Alright, what’s its status?

Well, it is adrift, Mr President, and its orbit appears to be decaying.

It’s going to come down?

Yes, sir, it is.

Do we know where, yet?

At this early stage, sir, best guess would be in Mississippi, but anywhere from Atlanta to Dallas looks pretty solid. I don’t know; South Carolina… maybe. We’re not sure yet.

Crews will be dispatched?

Yes, Mr President, they’re already on standby.

***

Despite the Objectivity’s collapse, Veltrae had persevered enough to have seen Thrannicus into evasion chamber Alpha. Its navigation systems would do the rest, guiding his pod to a safe location where he had only to wait until their rescue ship arrived. He just had to hope he’d have enough time to make it to the other one before the last remnants of the Objectivity disintegrated.

Traversing the corridor that linked the two, he was jarred by another explosion that threw him up and against the wall, injuring his left leg. As he cobbled through the hatch and into his own chamber, he could hear all around him the stress of the Objectivity’s structure grieving its last breath. Mere seconds remained.

Throwing himself inside, he knew the eject sequence would take over from there of its own accord, but just before it was set to detach, an impact from a stray fragment caused it to separate prematurely, rocking Veltrae back and forth from within. The pod’s umbilical connection with the Objectivity severed so, sparks shot out all around as a surge swept through the cockpit and down toward its equipment recess.

Regaining his composure, Veltrae could see the ship’s status displayed in front of him as he buckled himself in. To prevent their technology from falling into the wrong hands, whatever was left of the Objectivity would automatically self-destruct once he was far enough away. The humans might have been able to retrieve one or two loose ends if they were lucky, but there would be no chance of them acquiring anything substantial.

Veltrae had a serious problem, however. His pod had been damaged during that disconnection, and some of its systems – most notably those tasked with ensuring its ability to avoid detection – appeared to be semi-functional.

***

The President, his Chief of Staff and the Secretary of Defense had been conversing in the corner of the Situation Room. In the event that some of the details regarding what had just happened leaked to the public, contingency plans had to be formulated. Not that anyone would ever be able to piece together the enormity of it all; such things, as always, are made impossible.

Excuse me, Mr President.

The President looked over at General Cornelius, who was standing by the table with a red phone up to his ear. Yes, General.

The thing is breaking apart, sir.

It’s what? the President barked, again disgruntled. This just keeps getting better and better. Did I not ask you to stop the attack?

You did, sir, and we have, but we might’ve triggered a series of internal explosions on whatever it was.

Uh huh.

There is something else, though.

Go on…

Well, Mr President, while it’s very small, we are tracking a distinct departure from it.

A what?

Some sort of purposed separation from the main structure. It happened shortly before it fell apa–

Are you talking like an escape pod of some kind? the Secretary of Defense leapt in, wasting no time.

Yes, Mr Secretary, it… The General paused and put his other hand up as additional details were being relayed to him through the phone. He would proceed to stop and start as more information trickled through. Its radar signature seems to be appearing and then disappearing… We don’t know exactly why… but we are still tracking its whereabouts… It looks like it’s going to touch down… just outside of Birmingham in Alabama.

Let’s get a bird out there then, General, the Secretary of Defense said.

We already have several en route to that location.

***

The science the Atreei evasion chambers utilised was crucial to safeguarding the reporters amongst their species. If an unplanned surface landing had to be made on a planet where contact with the natives needed to be avoided, the stasis field would cloak the craft while in flight, preventing its detection.

By itself, that may not have been anything special but the landing sequence was what proved to be its ace up the sleeve. A warp bubble would form around the pod a split-second before touchdown at which point a jump would be initiated. This was done so quickly and so precisely that the craft would move beyond the planet’s surface, appropriating the area a metre or two directly beneath it.

The benefit of doing this was apparent because, in addition to their navigation routines ensuring only remote locations for set-down could be chosen, the chance of it being found while still occupied was low enough as to be non-existent. It was a setup that had even been tested by one or two Atreei on actual Class-E systems, and in each case their presence had gone undiscovered.

Veltrae’s arrival, it turned out, would be the one for whom it would fail to obscure. A rough landing, he’d soon realised he was not concealed. The jump had been too short and as a consequence, the top of his capsule pierced the surface.

Coupled with the damage to the cloaking field, it would be safe to assume the humans had been able to track him and may well be arriving any minute now. He had no time to lose.

The two modules maintaining an open communications line, Veltrae began to speak. He was aware that Thrannicus hadn’t regained consciousness, but he had to try. There were things that had to be said before he could leave. Thrannicus, can you hear me?

No response.

Thrannicus.

Urghh.

He may not have seemed the best but at least he was alive. Are you alright, Thrannicus? Veltrae asked.

Veltrae? What…

I got us off the Objectivity, just in time.

Well done, Veltrae, Thrannicus remarked, as the psychological link between them re-established itself. But more awake now, his euphoria gave way to trepidation, for he could feel a marked apprehension. What is it? he asked. What’s wrong?

It’s my capsule; it was damaged in the attack. The cloak wasn’t working and I’m not fully submerged. Thrannicus, none of my devices are functioning, the–

Pacifiers? Thrannicus gulped. All of them?

The lack of a prompt reply answering his question, Veltrae continued, The humans… He sounded desperate. I can exit via the exterior hatch, but… It is… They will find me, and…

Veltrae, Thrannicus cried.

I’ve got to make a run for it, Thrannicus. Veltrae had to direct the conversation toward his flight. I have no choice. I’ve been hurt but I’ve got to try. I can’t be here when they show up.

Rocked to his core, Thrannicus could offer only emptiness. Veltrae was being brave but their gut feelings betrayed them – his predicament was grim and they each knew it.

Thrannicus, stay in your pod, Veltrae furthered. They’ll never find you and when the rescue ship arrives you’ll be safe. You never know… He could be heard hesitating. Maybe I’ll get lucky. If I can… hide it out and wait… He tried to smile – not that Thrannicus would have seen it – but it wouldn’t have been convincing. Deep down, they both knew there was little to no chance of avoiding capture. Rather, his young friend would not be seen or heard from again.

Preparing to exit his craft, Veltrae began to ready provisions. With nothing in his pod entrusted with the protection of reporters working, he would take just enough food to sustain him until the rescue ship arrived. He had no choice but to keep it light so as to be able to move as quickly as possible, though his having been injured wouldn’t be doing him any favours.

Veltrae, Thrannicus suddenly repeated. He was overcome and, while the sentiment behind it would still have been received in full, that wasn’t about to stop him from saying it, hard as it was.

You saved my life.

Veltrae looked back at his console. Despite a heavy sense of foreboding about what was to come, the appreciation he could feel was giving him strength at a time when it was sorely needed. You would have done the same for me.

I know, but… Thrannicus could not speak. He would have swapped places with Veltrae in a heartbeat if he could have.

It will be fine, Veltrae said, fastening a ration to his waist belt. He turned and stuttered, Thrannicus, I’m sorry–

Don’t be, Thrannicus interrupted, seated at his own console with his head lowered. Veltrae was trying to apologise for having given the humans the benefit of the doubt. "You see the good, Veltrae;