New Sky: Eyes of the Watcher Read online

  New Sky

  Eyes of the Watcher

  Jason Kent

  Dedicated to my daughter Rebecca.

  May your passion take you further

  than you can imagine.

  Prologue

  Matthew Spencer Perceval, Esquire, was an explorer. He embraced this fact and knew in his heart he was meant to follow the path less chosen; to seek out the unknown. In doing so, his passion led him farther than he ever thought possible.

  Matthew figured everyone knew, somewhere deep inside, where their passion lay. But, by some curious coincidence, nearly every human he encountered chose to ignore their calling, despite the fact it was imprinted directly on their soul. Matthew learned over the years people dismissed this pull exerted upon their heart for various reasons. For many, the drive to do what they were designed for was buried by everyday concerns such as deadlines at work, where to take their next hectic vacation, or which flavor of coffee to buy. Others simply ignored the fact there was a purpose for their lives and instead found new ways to make themselves miserable but convince themselves they were content.

  "Complete derailment," Matthew stated as he thought of the path he took discovering his passion. He coined the term for all those people who found themselves trapped in the wrong life. Matthew did not mean to join this crowd. It just sort of happened.

  At the age of seven, Matthew was positive he would become an explorer, just like those larger-than-life figures he always saw on the vids. He idolized those hardy men and women planting Earth's flags on distant planets as they extended mankind's presence out in the vastness of space. By age ten, he was even more certain of his anointed path. There were thousands upon thousands of star systems with new worlds calling to him. Matthew planned to visit each and every one of them. It was clear, humanity needed Matthew on the Frontier.

  Somewhere along the line, 'certainty of purpose' was replaced by 'following the crowd'. At age thirteen, Matthew became more interested in the next big sports event, movie releases, and the girls in his class than far off wonders. The allure of unexplored mountain peaks waiting under the light of distant alien suns dimmed; especially when placed against the burning desire to hang out with his friends as they played the latest net-immersion games. The only mystery Matthew really wanted to solve involved short skirts and the fresh curves of his female classmates...

  The path through University lead to a respectable teaching position. Matthew fondly remembered Mr. Lovell, his High School math instructor, as the smartest and most inspiring of all his teachers. The vague notion he would be the next Mr. Lovell to his students took root in his mind somewhere along the line. As a bonus to being adored, he would get at least three months off during the year to do whatever he wanted. Maybe he would finally take time to explore. Earth still offered its share of adventure for a young man after all.

  Matthew laughed as he thought back to his first, and as it turned out, last teaching post. He had been handed a curriculum and told 'good luck'. It was not until Matthew faced his first class of some thirty-odd students he recalled just how he had treated his instructors, even the brilliant Mr. Lovell, just a few short years ago.

  "Tral," Matthew cursed and shook his head at the memory. He lasted five weeks before he was aboard a lifter headed for the next colony transport bound for anywhere but a classroom. His excitement as Earth dropped away and the appearance of countless stars with their startling beauty helped mask the guilt Matthew harbored at leaving his students in a lurch. The thought they wanted to be in Matthew's class even less than he did helped. Matthew was back on track for true adventure.

  "Follow your passion," Matthew recited his mantra. He took a deep breath of the cool mountain air rushing past his airship's cockpit. Since he left Earth, Matthew never regretted the decision to follow his heart. Here on Aesti, he found himself with an entire world to explore and a colonial government who paid him for something he actually wanted to do. His eyes swept the horizon. He grunted, "My career counselors didn't mention any of this."

  From his vantage point in his zeppelin's cockpit, Matthew looked down at the rolling hills forested with four-hundred meter trees. He was high enough to pass over most of the specimens, but not all. Matthew gazed out the side of his machine. There, a particularly tall group of trees towered over his balloon. Despite all the planet offered and all he had seen, the beauty of the scene took his breath away. These Aesti trees were easily three or four times as tall as the oldest, hardiest redwoods back on Earth. Unlike those protected specimens which attracted millions of visitors a year, almost no one saw the trees Matthew was passing over. As far as he knew, he was the first person to come this far north since the original Aesti settlers performed a rudimentary survey soon after their arrival.

  "You are not just an explorer," Matthew told himself. He did a little drum roll on the large wooden wheel with his fingers and added, "You are a bloody trail-blazer!"

  Mountain peaks loomed ahead. All afternoon, Matthew had pushed the zeppelin's chugging engine in order to reach this far north before dark. There was a particular geological feature he wanted to check out before turning south again. The original planetary survey described what could only be an impact crater at the edge of the Kaali Mountains. Ever since Matthew saw the feature on the old maps, he knew he needed to see it for himself.

  Matthew spotted a cleft in the mountain ridge. The zeppelin could probably make it over the higher points of the crest, but it would cost him a large amount of his compressed gas reserves to do so. Matthew was about as far as you could get from civilization on Aesti. There was no radio to call for help. And, as he thought about it, he was pretty sure no one really knew where he was to even start a search should something go wrong. He might need those reserves to get him back home. So Matthew settled on trying to maneuver through the narrow opening, despite the obvious risks involved.

  Matthew smiled at the thought of just how far he was from home. No one back at the port seemed overly interested in Matthew's expeditions. Some perked up if he reported a rich mineral deposit, but, for the most part, the majority of the population was happy staying within their scattered towns around the port. In their minds, their children or perhaps even their children's grand-children would have plenty of time to settle the rest of the planet.

  Time was not something Matthew was willing to waste. If the other colonists were happy to sit tight on their little farms and in their quaint villages, it was fine with him.

  "More ground for me to cover," Matthew remarked. He gripped the wheel and relished the thought of seeing what new wonders awaited over the next ridge. Closer to the rising mountains, the winds picked up. Matthew strained against the controls. The guide wires controlling the rudders groaned in protest but responded to his commands. Matthew aimed the airship for the cleft. Jagged rocks drew closer with each passing minute. Although the valley should be plenty wide enough for his relatively small flying machine, beads of sweat formed on Matthew's brow. No pilot liked feeling closed in when they were so used to having the wide open sky all around them.

  Matthew looked up at the cigar-shaped bag above his head. The gondola with his sparse living quarters, wooden flight deck, and hissing steam engine hung below gas envelopes encased in a semi-rigid shell. The contraption was like something Matthew remembered seeing in very old vids of early flight during his childhood. The magnetic fields on Aesti killed most digital systems within days of being landed on the planet. The fields also played havoc with orbital satellites. Yes, you could get systems which would work here on Aesti, but no one in authority felt it was worth the cost. So, no radio, no satellites, and no computer-controlled anything. But, old tech, even very old tech like helium balloons, steam powered propulsi
on, and clockwork devices worked just fine. All this sat perfectly well with Matthew. He was an explorer after all, and explorers used the tools at hand, no matter what century they may be from.

  Matthew gazed into the local sun, now low on the horizon and blazing with an orange light newcomers from Earth found just a bit disconcerting. Life was quieter here without the constant drone of aircraft or the arrival and departure of orbital shuttles operating on tight schedules and decibel-pollution waivers. But there were still challenges. Matthew focused on the mountains ahead and let the sound of the wind rustling the fabric of the air bag and the hypnotic thump of the wooden propeller fade into the background.

  Clenching the steering wheel, Matthew made a last minute adjustment to his course and aimed for the opening between the peaks. His path was set. Matthew knew if anything went wrong now, it would be entirely on him. He was a man who made his choices and stood by them.

  Smiling, Matthew noticed the swelling in his chest as his heart beat faster. Matthew lived for moments such as this. A grin spread across his tanned face. He was entering the unknown and fully expected to do the impossible.

  "And there we go," Matthew announced as he passed between the rough stone walls comprising the entrance to the valley. He consulted the photos clipped to the edge of his navigation table. If the coordinates were correct, a big 'if' given the sorry state of the old planetary survey and the lack of an active global positioning system, he was passing through the wall of the crater he hoped to explore. He gazed ahead intently. The crater itself, should be...

  "Holy mother..." Matthew breathed.

  The close walls of the mountain cleft fell away suddenly and Matthew found himself out in open sky again. The inner wall of the crater dropped sharply leaving the zeppelin more than a kilometer above the relatively smooth ground. Matthew gasped at the sight. He was inside a massive bowl created by unimaginable forces in an age long past.

  "Marvelous!" Matthew exclaimed. He felt like he was seven years old again. His eyes landed on an uprising which dominated the center of the crater. The mound was massive and seemed to anchor a cluster of Aesti's huge trees. Matthew did a double take of the trees. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him. As he drew nearer, he realized, instead of a grove, there was merely a single tree standing in the grassy field a top the mesa. If the central uprising was nearly a kilometer across, as the old photos indicated, the tree would have to be truly immense since it covered more than half the space. He checked the photos again. Yes, there was a dark smudge of foliage at the center of the crater, but he would never have guessed the photo was showing him a single, gigantic specimen.

  "Exceptional," Matthew remarked as he shielded his eyes and took in the sight. The sun abruptly dipped below the ridge of the crater with a flash. Matthew lowered his hand and blinked in the new twilight. Only the massive tree at the center of the crater stood high enough to still catch the setting sun. He aimed for the tree. Spending the night on the mesa under those spreading limbs appealed to Matthew's finely-honed sense of adventure.

  Upon landing, Matthew quickly secured his airship without taking his eyes off the immense tree. He jumped down the last few steps of the boarding ladder and planted his dusty boots in a lush field covered with waving grass and bright wildflowers. For one giddy moment, he imagined he was the first man to set foot on a new alien world.

  "One small step..." Matthew intoned playfully. He planted his feet far apart, hands on his hips and looked up at the enormous tree. Matthew could not contain the grin spreading across his face. He called out to the sky, "Another day living the dream!"

  The tree's leaves rustled in the light evening breeze; waving branches beckoned him closer. Matthew strode forward then glanced over his shoulder at his flying machine. He was surprised to see it so far behind him already. Somehow he walked more than halfway to the tree almost without realizing it. It was as if he were in a dream where time and distance meant very little. Matthew looked up. The outer branches of the tree already blocked out much of the sky. All around, dust floated in beams of orange light and wildflowers strained to catch the last rays of the day which found their way through the dancing leaves. "Maybe this is a dream," Matthew wondered, turning slowly.

  As he continued closer, Matthew swore the weight of ages radiated from the ancient tree. How many millennia it stood there, he could not guess. Yes, plant life on Aesti lived for a long time and grew to extreme heights, but the tree in front of Matthew belonged in a class all by itself.

  "No one's going to believe me," Matthew muttered. He nearly turned to get his camera and tripod. But, he would have to also set up the chemical baths to fix the photographic plates. By the time everything would be ready, the light would be gone. "Later," he told himself. First things first. Matthew could not explain the compulsion which overtook him. He needed to get to the tree.

  Matthew paused a few arm lengths from the tree's wide trunk. Overhead, interlocking branches as wide as his airship's cockpit creaked and stretched away in every direction. He took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders and stepped forward, feeling for all the world as if his entire life led to this very moment. His boots crunched through a drift of dry leaves. Matthew stopped and gingerly extended both hands. After a moment of hesitation, he laid his palms against the cool, rough bark.

  "Impossible!" He gasped and threw his head back staring with wide unseeing eyes into the tangled branches. Matthew breathed, "It can't be..."

  The explorer collapsed at the foot of the ancient tree.

  Around Matthew's still form, night settled in the crater. Overhead, the stars in the clear night sky burned with their brilliant, cold light. Leaves rustled. The great tree waited...

  Part 1

  Compression

  Chapter 1

  Ironclad

  Kate Thompson was no explorer. She did not enjoy these six month stretches away from New Seattle, one of the giant habitats in orbit around Earth. But, such was the nature of the EMTEC contract she labored under. She certainly would rather have the expansive views of Earth offered by her apartment's observation port than the windowless troop compartment she found herself entombed in now. The lack of a view was one thing, the smell another. She could forgo a view for a while but the smell pervaded everything. Even with new filters in their suits and the shuttle's scrubbers, body odor found a way of leeching its way into everything, given enough nervous sweat and time. Kate discovered plenty of both within her armor. Whenever she deployed alongside her assigned squad of marines, she was required by some regulation to wear the same combat gear as the rest of the troops. All this despite her status as a non-combatant contract communications specialist. If she ever found the author of this particular reg, she was going to—

  "Shut it or you'll miss something!" Captain Joss Black shouted. Black paused and eyed each member of his squad. "New orders from Decatur! We've got a Tallinn ironclad to board and blast! Battle Net reports our target is generating a rather nasty interdiction field, meaning Fleet's engines won't work unless we do our job." Black lurched sideways as the weapons and troops in the bay rattled around him. "The uncomfortable feeling in your stomach is the young Lieutenant Garrett attempting to evade our ironclad's point defense systems. Which means we are already inbound! Just to ensure I make myself crystal clear, Fleet's survival depends on our success! If we fail..." Black grinned, "Well, we don't fail, do we?"

  "Oorah!" The armored marines answered in unison.

  "Who are we?" Black shouted.

  "Black Death!" The squad responded automatically.

  "Who?" Black shouted again, his hand cupped behind his ear.

  "Black Death!"

  "Inbound?" Kate Thompson exclaimed as she replayed the Captain's speech in her mind. She glanced at the marines shouting all around her. To no one in particular, she asked, "We're going in?"

  "You heard the Captain!" Chief Master Sergeant Anders shouted. He ignored Kate's question, "Cohen, Santos, grab the mines. This is a 'boot, scoot, boom' m
ission, marines. We will kick down the door! We will reach our assigned objective! We will leave a path of destruction so wide, the Tallinns will never forget the marines of the 707th have paid them a visit!"

  "Heavy explosives," Sergeant Dwayne Ross declared from the seat across the aisle from Kate, "best calling card. Ever." He turned to the other marines in the assault shuttle bay and called out, "Fleet decided our friends out there needed a dose!"

  "Yeah, baby," Cohen called back, "dose 'em with some Black Death!"

  "Pile 'em on the cart!" Laughter rolled through the cramped compartment.

  "Ew," Kate remarked and gaped open-mouthed at marines bantering around her. She shook her head to rid her mind of the image of putrid plague victims piled high on a rickety wagon. Kate thought she had seen it all before she came to work for the interstellar corporation Electro-Magnetic Technologies, EMTEC to nearly everyone in space, under contract as a tech specialist with the Stellar Union Marine Corps. But, culture shock still caught Kate unawares every now and then. Even after spending nearly three months with Captain Black's platoon within the 707th Battalion, aka "Black Death", she still experienced moments where she felt as if she were in a Marine recruiting vid. She shook her head, maybe she never would get used to jarhead motivational milspec lingo.

  "Contact in three minutes," First Lieutenant Jonathon "Noose" Garrett cut in over the tacnet. She had flown with the lanky pilot before and wondered how the man managed to sound so calm even as he evaded a hailstorm of fire.

  "Seal checks," Anders roared, "now!" The Chief made up for his small stature with volume, intense presence, and a piercing gaze. Taken together, his attributes ensured everyone double-checked their suits.

  Kate absently took a small packet as it was passed to her. She did not fully grasp what was in her hands until the soldier next to her spoke.

  "Careful."

  Kate looked down at the pack, then sideways at the Master Sergeant sitting next to her. She knew Kelly Merrick, the team's sniper. He had paid a visit to her workshop to be fitted for a new scope and range-finder just the day before.