Albacron Book 1:
The Threat From the Others
by Dakota Orlando
“We are in danger of destroying ourselves by our greed and stupidity. We cannot remain looking inwards at ourselves on a small and increasingly polluted and overcrowded planet.”
Stephen Hawking
“No matter how honestly humanity builds its society, the greed of humanity, if allowed to flourish, will find a way to destroy it.”
Zosma of Roswell, Executive Admiral > 2745 C.E.
PART 1: THE OTHERS
Ronald I. Pravus: “Truly great leaders snap at their people … and they take much joy in watching them fearfully comply. I want to be a great leader. I want my people not only to jump but to ask, ‘How far, Your Excellency.’ Yes … Your Excellency. I like that.”
"In our ancient times, even before the Pre-Magnus Bellum era, the Chinese built their ‘Great Wall’ so high and mighty that it stopped invading marauders from entering their land. Albacron’s wall comprised advanced technology that kept the rest of humanity in servitude and abject destitution." The Compilation Historica of the Post Magnus Bellum by Mary Amity.
Chapter 1:
Incident on the Pecos River
Tuesday, June 12, 2745
Our little-explored, post-apocalyptic world changed the day my brother and his wife took their daughter, my sister, and my three young children for a picnic up the Pecos River. When they failed to return, I ordered a senior member of our military to fly a heliocruiser to locate them.
******
A round, open, flying platform flew just above the river’s surface. The pilot clutched a golden crossbar that rose on a gray vertical shaft from the heliocruiser deck. The cruiser swept upstream from where the old village of Roswell used to lie seven hundred years ago in the now defunct state of New Mexico.
As the red, white, and blue-uniformed pilot flew over the riverbank, his keen eyes glimpsed a sandbar littered with debris that told a troubling story. He hovered over the right embankment, scanning the beach, hoping it held the answers to the questions swirling in his mind. A half-submerged beach umbrella flapped weakly at the water’s edge, while seven fold-up chairs lay scattered across the sand, three of them overturned as if a storm had swept through and left chaos in its wake.
Five towels. There should be seven. A sinking feeling twisted his gut. Had the current swept the others downstream?
He hastily landed with a thud that reverberated through his bones. Removing his blue flight helmet, he double-tapped his personal communicator embedded behind his right ear. “Commander Hamal to Flight Commander Cassandra.”
“Commander Cassandra, over.”
“I found where Deneb, Alcyon, Doctor Meri Diana, and the children picnicked.” He gulped, but kept his voice even. “There’s no sign of them. The site looks disturbed, but I don’t see their heliocraft fighter anywhere.”
“Use your Qualitative Data Analyzer. They should have followed protocol and set their craft to invisible mode. I can’t imagine they left without cleaning up. Maybe they went aboard their helio to catch a motion picture from before-the-Magnus-Bellum. You know what a movie buff Deneb is.”
“Understood. Commander Hamal out.” He stepped off his cruiser, set his helmet on it, and removed his hand-sized, rectangular QDA from its belt pouch. With his gaze fixed on it, he tried to keep his heart from racing. He tapped a button on the right side, activating its aqua-colored screen. In scanning the area, an orange blip shone bright. His breathing stopped as he scrutinized the nearby hillock.
With a swift series of taps, the outline of Deneb’s saucer-shaped fighter craft materialized just beyond the slope’s peak—an ominous sight devoid of any movement. “No life signs,” he muttered. Hamal tottered toward the heliocraft. After tapping another button and dialing down a setting on the QDA, he halted. “No. Oh, no! There’s no organic matter aboard.”
He spun and scurried back toward his cruiser. Stopping by a cooler nestled askew in the sand, he kneeled and flipped it open. Stuffed with food. He surveyed the area. Something interrupted them. They would have eaten before exploring with Electra’s children or returned to their heliocraft to watch a movie.
Hamal’s heart thundered as he rose and raced the last few steps toward his cruiser. Climbing aboard, he scooped up his helmet, slipped it on, and turned toward the beach scene. Someone took them against their will. It would take several to subdue them all. Deneb and his wife, Alcyon, were distinguished fighter pilots during the Second Liberation. Who could have subdued them so easily?
He flew toward the Roswell Sierra Blanca Mountain base. Kidnapped? It feels surreal. Since defeating the Albacronians six years ago, we’ve had no enemies … but then, we never explored the rest of the North American Continent. Roswell is our only community this far west. Why has Electra been reluctant? Perhaps she feared what we might find. Now … it may have found us!
Racing along the Pecos, Hamal increased to maximum speed. Wait until Madame President Primus finds out that her family has been taken. Hasn’t Electra suffered enough since she re-established a free America fifteen years ago? I’m afraid she won’t take this well, and I will not like being the one to deliver the news.
Chapter 2:
Ignorance Aside, No News is Bliss
Electra
“Hey, Electra, look there,” the young, dark-complexioned woman’s voice cut through my thoughts like the hum of her heliochair’s motor as she glided beside me, easily matching my rapid gait. Her dark eyes sparkled with excitement as she pointed.
I followed her gaze and spied Commander Hamal’s heliocruiser speeding toward our Sierra Blanca Mountain hangar base. The sight of it stirred a hopeful flutter in my chest. We waved at him.
Celeste lowered her arm and wrinkled her brow. “He didn’t see us.”
“No surprise. Commander Hamal probably found my family frolicking too far upriver. That brother of mine ….” I shook my head. “Deneb’s too bold for his own good.”
As we left the Roswell Exterior village, I sauntered across the Plateau Plaza, where we had worked tirelessly to cultivate a green oasis amid the remnants of our past. The tree-lined walkways, parks, and ponds felt like a sanctuary, a living testament to our hard-won freedom.
My eyes drifted to the Lincoln Memorial, the statue—a symbol of resilience—looming proudly. I reverently admired it, as I always did, feeling the weight of what it represented. It was inside that monument where Alaster and I unearthed the ancient documents when it stood within the Washington, D.C. ruins … where scientists seven centuries ago had preserved the world’s knowledge in a tiny sphere, now a cornerstone of modern-day Nova America.
“Are we going to work on the alien database later?” Celeste’s voice broke my trance.
“Sure.” I smiled at her, but I sensed her impatience bubbling beneath the surface.
“We’re almost finished with it. I bet you can’t wait to be done with that fifteen-year project.”
Fifteen years! Has it been that long ago that the three-inch Prudentia Scientifica Sphere led us to Roswell … to the alien ship that crashed nearby in 1947? Without it, we wouldn’t have had the technological edge to defeat the Albacronians.
As we approached the hangar bay entrance at the base of the mountain, I could feel Celeste’s frustration.
“I want to use my legs again. When will you and Doctor Meri Diana find the fix for my spine in all that alien code?”
I pointed at her heliochair, gliding effortlessly through the gentle wind. “My sister and I are still working on it. But, hey … look at what an advantage you have in that flying wheelchair. You can’t do that with your legs.”
She laughed, a light sound that warmed me. “If I ever get my legs back to working, I’ll keep this thing.” With a flick of her fingers, she activated the control panel. “I think I’ll get an ice cream float. See you later, alligator.” She sped away, turning abruptly toward Roswell Exterior.
I stopped as she pulled away. “Hey, watch it with that thing. You’re going to get a ticket for reckless flying.” I smiled. A remarkable young woman … her spirit unbroken despite everything she’d endured. The only surviving witness to the sabotage by Albacronian agents, she had paid dearly for it. I chased back a tear. I love her like my own daughter.
I double-tapped behind my right ear. “President Primus Electra to Vega.”
“Hi, mother. Where are you?”
“Approaching Roswell Interior. Vega, I told you to use official communication protocol language.”
“Mother, you’re linking to me. No one else can hear us. You know what I think of this military mumbo-jumbo. I’m the chairperson for ASHGGI. Do you really want me to answer, ‘Vega here, chairperson of the American Society of Historic, Geographic, and Geologic Information?’ That’s so long-winded, not to mention silly. And it’s weird too.”
“All right.” I laughed. “I get it. You’re acting like a normal teen, so consider me properly chastised.”
“We’re on the verge of understanding exactly where the Roswell aliens came from, and since you’re the continental expert on their language … please come and help me.”
I passed through the hangar opening and entered Chasm Hall, built into Sierra Blanca Mountain. “Get out of here. You know almost as much as me.”
“Seriously, Mother, I need your help. It’s astounding what I’ve found in the original alien ship’s database this morning.”
“I’m supposed to show up in one of your aunt’s schools in an hour and talk to all the classes about the Liberation.”
“The First or Second Liberation?”
“Both.”
“What? That’ll take forever. Your sister can wait. This is important.”
“Your Aunt Chara’s not going to be happy.”
“Forget Aunt Chara. I’m not happy. Come here first and make me happy.” She whimpered like a puppy. “Please?”
“All right. Your groveling worked. I’ll be there, but I can’t stay long.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Where are you … on the Abraham or the Madison?”
“Madison. Vega, chairperson of the American Society of Historic, Geographic, and Geologic Information….” She exaggerated strained breathing. “Whew! Over and out.”
“Don’t be a wiseass.”
Strolling past the original alien ship, the A.S. Abraham, I found myself walking through a cloud of nostalgia. This place has become my sanctuary over the years—a refuge from our dark past under malicious Albacronian rule. As I sauntered toward the back of the hall near the passageway leading to the underground lake, I glanced up the eighteen stories of mostly perimeter breezeway condos on either side of Chasm Hall and above the passageway entrance to the interior of the mountain.
I love Roswell Interior. It’s been my home since our capriciously playful hologram from the sphere revealed it to us fifteen years ago. It’s been so long since my poverty days in a dilapidated shanty in Old Baltimore. Under Albacronian rule, we scraped for every scrap of food. Now, we’ve rebuilt that city into New Baltimore … and in its original location along the Chesapeake Bay. The old bombed-out village on the Calvert Cliffs is being restored as a national monument and museum, which they’ll want me to dedicate upon its completion.
I passed the first two alien ship replicas and stopped adjacent to the third, the A.R. Madison, my ship during the Second Liberation struggle. It sat in front of the statues honoring three of our finest deceased citizens. Beyond them lay the passage to the underground recreational lake.
Strolling under the hundred-foot saucer-shaped spacecraft, I stopped a little off-center and stared up at a discolored circle about five feet in diameter. It was charcoal colored and stood out from the steely-gray underside. Once I centered myself beneath it, an opaque white light flowed slowly down and engulfed me. A second later, I stood on the circular exit plate to the starboard side of the Captain’s Chair.
We never figured out how this machine could take a body and pass it through the ship’s hull. We’ve duplicated the process. But if we can work out the mechanism, think of the possibilities.
Sighing, I stared at my captain’s chair. I miss the days when I flew this baby. I drew a deep breath. Why am I so sentimental today? Nothing has gone wrong. As I stepped toward the command center, a reflex hijacked my attention. I squatted slightly while shooting a hand up to protect my head.
“What am I doing?” I straightened up and lowered my hand. “I’m not aboard the Abraham built for creatures much smaller than me. When a five-foot-three human has to duck … that’s weird.” I swished my hand along the hair atop my head. “It’s not fair. I’m supposed to fit under everything.”
I stared at the escape hatch recessed in the overhead above the exit plate. Here and the Commons Room are the only two places my short frame can stand erect aboard the Abraham. We built these replicas to fit humans.
Placing my hands on the back of the command chair, I scanned the view the ship’s captain would have as I delved deeper into my memories.
The duty stations spread before me in an outward arc. I eased close to the chair and stared down at it, laying one hand on the right armrest ladened with control buttons.
I came from the poor village of Bawl Mehr, a name the Albacronians bastardized from Baltimore. Me, a nobody seventeen-year-old, one of four siblings, keeping the family together after having lost both parents to Albacronian cruelty and greed.
I stroked the armrest while scanning a slightly different bridge from the Second Liberation. In my mind’s eye, it bustled with enthusiastic and hopeful officers on a mission to steal the freedom our Albacronian overlords refused to give us.
I swept my gaze around the port side until it met with the back bulkhead.
“Ensign Triton!” I barked.
A handsome young man, barely nineteen, swung around, exuding confidence. “Yes, Madam Mayor … I mean Captain.”
“We’re launching in five minutes. You’re our weapons officer replacement for Lieutenant Notus. Are you up for it?”
He grinned wider than a Cheshire smile. “Bring it on, ma’am. Let’s give the Superior Albacronian more hell than he can handle.” He turned back to his station console.
I swung my gaze clockwise and stopped at the next duty station. “Ensign Raya. Ready communications.”
The frail, petite late teen turned her head and grinned. “Ready as they’ll ever be.”
I proceeded to the next station on the clockwise progression—the new Tactical/Ops we did not have back in 2739.
Peering straight ahead at the helmsman, I barked, “Ready at the helm, Lieutenant Commander Aurora?” My most senior and experienced officer nodded without turning around.
Continuing, my gaze stopped at the Navigation Station. “Lieutenant Sargas lay in a course for Adelphy.”
“Aye, Aye, Captain,” he said.
Another new station, Environmental Control, followed by Engineering manned by Lieutenant Selene.
“Engineering, everything shipshape?”
Salene had just finished throwing a switch. “Yes, ma’am, Madame Mayor.”
I swiveled my chair to face the open entrance to the bridge leading to the interior of the ship and to the Commons Room where Vega sat working on the alien language translation. It was a room where the aliens trained their young during long flights to far-flung worlds … like ours. The first station to the port side of the hall will belong to Vega’s ASHGGI when we fly again. To the portside of it is the Pure Science Station we never utilized. It contains the verboten brain booster. To the starboard side of the hall entrance is the Security Station, also inactive six years ago.
Those were awesome days. Good people fighting to be free. I shook the past from my mind. “Time to return to the reality of today.”
I entered the aft passageway and turned right at the fork. Continuing along the semi-circular hall, I arrived at the open entrance to the Commons Room on my left. Vega sat at the island console and scrolled through the alien language, her back to me.
I stood and watched her work, my thoughts misting over with reminiscence. I love this adopted daughter of mine so much. I remember the first time I saw her in Roanoke … sixteen, alone in the world, about to be euthanized.
Daughter Alcyon and I had flown to Roanoke and sneaked inside its perimeter fence. We had dressed in rags to blend in as just a couple of Vercundi slaves.
The attendant standing behind her station chair among a roomful of desks had just slipped a helmet over the head of a mid-teen. Its two bulges covered her ears. My soon-to-be second adopted daughter sat in the attendant’s chair.
“What is this for?” the girl said.
“We’re going to listen to your brain …” the woman snickered, “… to see if you are smarter than a dog.”
“What? More intelligent than a dog?” I stomped around the desk, grabbed the helmet off the girl’s head, and threw it to the floor.
A glance at Al found her eyes wide.
“Yes, daughter. Mama’s pissed!” I reached around the girl, picked up the rectangular box, threw it on the floor, and stomped on both items.
The attendant backed up a step. “What in the world…?”
I ignored her and leaned over Vega. “They’re about to erase your memory, girl, like they did to me once. I’m not going to allow that to happen.” I extended a hand toward her, careful not to touch her. “Get up, child. I’d send you back to the food distribution building for plenty to eat, but I know where you can get a better meal. You’re coming with us, and you can file a complaint with the Supreme Mayor of Roanoke. How many days have you gone without eating?”
She rose. “Three, ma’am.”
“And they’ve sentenced you to three more. Twice a perimeter violator?” The girl nodded. I reached toward the opaque, reddish-brown, hexagonal crystal hanging around the girl’s neck, careful not to touch her. “What’s this … the Crystal of Shame?” I let it fall back into place and glared at the attendant. “They’re still doing that too?”
I backed up and leaned my head forward. “Hold the string straight out and let the crystal dangle.” The girl did, and I moved my head close to it. A white light shot from the jewel in my headband and engulfed the crystal. A thousand shattered pieces rained onto the floor. I glanced at the attendant.
Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Who the hell are you?”
Vega lost tears and stared at Al, and then at me. She lunged forward to hug me.
I threw out my arms and jumped back. “No, sweetie, don’t touch!” The girl stopped with questioning eyes. “Sweetheart, you don’t want this to happen to you.” I reached out and eased a hand on the attendant’s shoulder.
The woman froze. Her eyes glassed over as she stared toward the ceiling and keeled over. The girl backed away, her mouth dropping open.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” I said.
The girl’s mouth quivered into a smile. “Vega.”
“After we kick the Supreme Mayor’s ass, we’re getting you the hell out of here.” I turned to Al. “Come on, Alcyon. I think I have another desk to destroy.”
******
“Mother? What are you doing with that shit-eating grin on your face? You’re not a country bumpkin.”
I shook myself from my stupor. “What?”
Vega tightened her lips and shook her head. “You’re standing there in the Commons Room entrance daydreaming.”
Laughing, I entered. “Just thinking about how you used to be an ignorant Vercundi girl barely surviving in Roanoke before I got you out of there.”
She smiled. “And now I’m an American girl who received an instant education through your Instaratio treatment.” She pointed toward the command center. “I want to take the alien brain booster like my sister Alcyon and you did.” She eased back in her swivel chair. “So, which special power do you think I’ll get: your telekinesis or Al’s telepathy?”
I walked toward her with narrowed eyes, pointing a finger at her face. “You’re more likely to get yourself killed. Alcyon and I took the brain booster because we were one, impatient, and two, stupid.” I bounced a finger off her head. “I will not risk another daughter.”
“Mother, come on. It could make me another Super Girl.”
I lightly smacked her cheek. “A lot of good ‘Super’ will do you in the grave. Besides, once you arrest your aging, you will be sort of super.”
“Funny, six years ago, you told the Superior Albacronian you wanted nothing to do with their age-freezing technology. You said something like, ‘Who wants to live forever?’ What changed your mind?”
“I got older.” Snickering, I spread my arms wide. “And now look at me. I’m thirty-three, but do I look a day over twenty-seven?”
She jerked her head back. “Really? I always thought you were treading water at thirty-nine.” She laughed.
I scurried toward her, secured her in a headlock, and rubbed my knuckles on her head. “Now, you take that back.”
She squirmed and giggled. “Ahhhhhh! Child abuse!” I let her go, and she rubbed her head as if it hurt. “Anyway, Mother, I don’t think twenty-two is the right time.”
“Excellent decision. Most people wait until full maturity around twenty-six, twenty-seven, the same time they choose to have kids.”
“Madam President Primus!”
I turned to discover Hamal standing in the entranceway. “What is it, Commander?”
He panted a little. “Excuse me. I had to deliver this personally. It’s bad news, I’m afraid.” He hurried toward me. “Your brother Deneb and adopted daughter Alcyon went on a picnic with your sister Meri Diana and your other three children to the Pecos River.”
“I know that. They went too far upriver, didn’t they?”
He jerked erect and threw out his hands. “They’re gone! Their heliocraft is there, but they’re nowhere to be found.”
“What?” My mouth remained open while I tried to digest the news. Gone? “Perhaps they went on a hike?”
“Not likely. Their picnic area was disturbed and their cooler containing their food was untouched.”
I sighed. “Did you search the area?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then that’s it. Go back with several security officers and search for them. You know my sister Meri Diana likes to hike the countryside. I’m sure they couldn’t have gotten far.”
“Right away, Madam President Primus.” He took his leave, and I faced Vega. “Why didn’t he have the sense to search the area himself?”
“He would have needed assistance, anyway. It’s too large an area for just one heliocruiser to search.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Deneb will turn up. He always does.”
END OF SAMPLE
Click HERE to go to the top
Click HERE to Return to Welcome Page