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Story By JA Baker[]
| To Hold The Infinity In The Palm Of Your Hand | |
| Facts | |
| Author | JA Baker |
| Series Name | Tall Tales |
| Alternate Universe Name | |
| Year Written | January 29th, 2021 |
| Story Era | Civil War Era |
- Note: This story is continuation of Legacy and links to The Honour of the Regiment.
After the complete and utter failure that was our expedition to Helm, I certainly never expected to hear from Alan Shaffer ever again.
True to his word, he had paid me the agreed upon sum; enough to pay off my families debts, just, and then left for the Occupation Zone with little fanfare. As such, I suddenly found myself at a loss with what to do with myself, at least in the long term. I no longer needed to work for LosTech hunters, but I had spectacularly failed to restore my professional reputation. Even the discovery of just where the Star League Corps. of Engineering had hidden the Yehudan Sea paled in comparison to the accolades that would have been heaped upon me if we'd managed to not trigger the destruction of Project PROSPERO. Unfortunately, a few photos and our personal accounts weren't even worth the paper they were printed on, so our find was filed away under 'alleged' and quickly forgotten about by all but the craziest of prospectors, and I had no interest in working for them.
My carefree days were behind me, but, alas, I was still seen as unemployable in my field of study, leaving me working a string of random jobs with the occasional consultation gig here and there, just to keep mind, body and soul together. It wasn't exactly the life I'd imagined when I started at university, but you do what you go to do. As such I was surprised when my DigiMail account informed me that I had received a priority HPG message from Tukayyid, some three years after my return from Helm. More surprised to see that it was from Shaffer, and consisted of an offer of employment under the same terms as our previous contract, and included travel plans for Alpha Eridani in the Federated Commonwealth.
Despite my personal commitments on Stewart, the kind of money he was offering, and the possibility that he'd uncovered something even remotely as impressive as PROSPERO, and what that could mean for my career... it wasn't really a question. I made arrangements, packed my bags, and boarded the first in a chain of DropShips.
Shaffer was waiting for me on Alpha Eridani, dressed once again in his Clans field uniform, sticking out like a sore thumb. It was...complicated, seeing him again, given all that had happened, but he seemed genuinely happy to see me, and even asked if my journey had been pleasant as he led me to a small hotel where he'd booked us adjoining rooms. There he showed me a Star League era map that showed a number of systems that had, for one reason or another, fallen off the grid over the last few centuries. I'd seen similar maps before during my time working for LosTech prospectors; I've even visited a few of them, and not all are irradiated, boasted wastelands. A few are even still inhabited, to a certain extent, just not to the point of being worth keeping on the maps.
This particular map had one such system highlighted: New Florence. The world had been fought over by the Federated Sun's, Capellan Confederation and Draconis Combine throughout the First, Second, and Third Succession Wars, before being officially abandoned due to being a net drain on resources with a fast declining population. Everything of value was loaded onto DropShips, along with the remaining population, and the world was simply declared abandoned, not even worth maintaining a token garrison on. Over coffee, Shaffer explained how, while digging through an old data archive that had fallen into the possession of Clan Goliath Scorpion, he had found a number of references to New Florence, and some kind of mega engineering project conducted on the world by the same Star League Corps. of Engineering that had built the secret PROSPERO facility on Helm.
He didn't think that it was part of the same program, that much seemed to be certain, but it was a massive outlay in equipment and personnel, and none of the surviving records from New Florence gave any indication as to what it may have been for. Certainly, enough people had bled and died over the world during the first three Succession Wars that they should have mentioned something in their after action reports. Something had been built, in secret, on New Florence: the evidence was compelling enough for his Clan to agree to support another expedition to the Inner Sphere, better equipped this times, from what he said. It was infuriating to know that he was yet again hiding things from me, but he promised that all would be explained in due time, but operational security remained a must until we were on the ground.
Some people had believed what we said about Helm, and it was pretty obvious that there were people following Shaffer, more so than you might expect for a Clan officer going treasure hunting in technically enemy territory. And, unfortunately, should they bare him ill intentions, an uninhabited world like New Florence would be the ideal spot to, well, do whatever they wanted.
It was at that point that my price doubled.
We spent two days gathering supplies and equipment: with no human population, we'd need to carry everything we needed to survive. Fortunately, Shaffer had an ace up his sleeve in the form of a working Cortez series N support vehicle, something I had only read about in the history books. While old, slow, and obsolete by most standards, it had been maintained by the Clans since the Exodus. They used it to explore the more marginally habitable worlds...back home, as Shaffer put it. It also have more than enough space for all our supplies and equipment, especially as it was built for a crew of four, and there was just the two of us, even though he was an Elemental.
Later that night, over a few drinks, Shaffer admitted that his desire to unearth the past wasn't his only reason to undertake this expedition.
Apparently, among the Clans, there's something of a glass ceiling for Elementals. Oh, sure, some can and indeed have risen to the very top, but they're the exceptions that prove the rule, the stand-out individuals with the skill, drive and luck to punch through. Possibly quite literally, given their tendency to settle things through trial by combat. While he had earned his Bloodname, possibly the highest accolade the Clans could bestow, he was unlikely to ever rise above the rank of Star Captain.
I guess the infamous MechWarrior Mafia is truly universal.
Well, a lecture on the inner workings of Clan politics isn't my idea of foreplay, so I respectfully declined his offer to share his bed, and retreated to my room. I had several letters to write and place in a "if I should not return" account, something that's pretty standard for LosTech hunters, especially those heading so far off-grid. They took longer to compose than I had intended, leaving me with very little time left to sleep before our DropShip left the next day.
The trip out to the jump-point was spent going over what information we had on New Florence again and again, familiarizing ourselves with the Cortez and its systems, and going over all our equipment and supplies yet again to make sure we weren't missing anything. We also took the opportunity to become, reacquainted. He didn't ask about my scar, but I don't know if that's a testament to how good a job the surgeon did, or the fact that, as a Clan warrior, he was more accustom to them than most.
Our JumpShip was waiting for us, and we made the jump to the New Florence system less than an hour after docking. Our ride in system, a battered old Leopard that had long since been converted over to civilian use, detached and started the long, slow burn towards the planet. Unfortunately, the conversion hadn't left room for passenger accommodation, forcing us to spend much of our time in the Cortez, giving us ample opportunity to get better acquainted with its layout and systems. It also gave us the privacy needed to open some of the more sensitive files Shaffer had brought with him, delving deeper into whatever it was that the Star League had been doing on New Florence.
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Leopard Class DropShip
The information was scarce at best, much had been destroyed during the Uprising and subsequent Civil War, be it by design or collateral damage. What was clear to us was that the Hegemony had acquired a massive, played-out copper mine in mountains north of the Cresidain Plateau. Officially, they intend to use it as a storage facility for hazardous waste, which doesn't hold up, as even today, most worlds load it into disposable cargo containers and launch them towards their star. Whatever they had been planning, it was clear based upon surviving shipping manifests and tax records, and it's always the damn tax records that survive, they had massively expanded the existing mine, extracting millions of tons of earth and rock. The they had brought in massive amounts of building materials and, well, the records were rather vague, making it clear that someone had been trying to hide something.
Landfall was more than a little rough. Decades of poor maintenance left our ride ill equipped to handle a landing without guidance from ground control, but such is the life of the independent LosTech hunter. I have no idea how the crew had intended to spend their time while we went off in search of... we still weren't exactly sure what, exactly, but as it turned out, they'd be spending a few days at least getting the DropShip fixed up and airworthy again. Fortunately, the JumpShip wasn't due back for a month, giving us more than enough time to explore while repairs were underway.
Fortunately, the highway leading up into the mountains had been built by the Hegemony, and was still in surprisingly good condition, even decades since last seeing any maintenance what so ever. And even then, as impressive a piece of machinery as the Cortez was, it was almost painfully slow, barely able to hit 30kp/h flat-out. Fortunately, what it lacked in speed, it more than made up for in raw power. It was able to maintain that same slow-but-steady pace even as we started to climb up into the mountains.
It was there that we saw the first signs of the state that the Confederation had left New Florence. While they'd evacuated the human population, they hadn't done much about the domestic animals, we found ourselves being watched by a pack of feral dogs. They looked mean and hungry, and I was instantly glad that we had a thick, armored hull between them and us. Shaffer seemed unconcerned, but I doubt he'd ever seen what a hungry, desperate animal can do to a human being when they haven't learned to fear us.
Feral animals are a well known and all too common complication in the LosTech game.
We stopped near what had once been some kind of refueling station for trucks running to and from the mines for the night. The road had been cut into the side of a steep hill, giving an impressive view of the Cresidain Plateau. New Florence lacked a natural satellite, so aside from a faint glow that indicated where our DropShip was undergoing repairs, the only light was the stars. Growing up on Marik, then spending most of my adult life on Stewart, when i wasn't traveling for work, I was used to seeing the night sky lit up with a constantly moving and changing constellation of ships and stations, so it always struck me as odd to see the night sky as empty as our distant ancestors must have.
Shaffer didn't see it quite the same way, but I guess that's a Clan prospective for you.
It did make me feel somewhat alone, even with a big, hulking Elemental never more than a few meters away from me, and I couldn't help but think of home. I quickly forced myself to suppress those feelings, not wanting to add additional distractions to the mission.
Unfortunately, the wind picked up around dawn, and despite weighing in at 75-tons, the Cortez shook and shuddered as we continued to make our way into the mountains. Annoyingly, the maps showed a much more sheltered rout, but it would have added at least an extra day to our dive, there and back. Given how very finite our supplies and time was, we had little choice but to grin and bear it, and put up with the occasional unexpected lurching to one side or the other. Fortunately, the further we got into the mountains, the more sheltered it became, granting at least some relief from the worst of the weather, even as the outside temperature dropped with ever kilometer traveled. We crossed the snow line just before we reached the turn-off for the mine, but Shaffer insisted that we continue on further up the main road to a small town.
We parked the Cortez at the edge of town, and arming ourselves against possible hostile wildlife. We followed an old local map until we found ourselves outside the half collapsed remains of a small office building. I could tell from the architectural style that it was Hegemony vintage, all be it repaired and rebuilt several times down the long centuries. But nothing made it stand out from any other buildings on the street, until Shaffer scraped away a layer of ice and snow to reveal a small, black marble plaque.
You see them, from time to time: markers of some historical event or individual. This one marked the building as a location connected with the Night of the Long Knives, where a mercenary regiment in the employ of Stephen Amaris, McGregor's Marauders, slaughtered 400 members of the 3rd Battalion, Royal Fenshire Dragoons and their families. According to the inscription still legible on the plaque, the building had been home to a small SLDF Corps. of Engineers office, and five members of staff had been dragged from their beds, lined up in the basement and shot by the Marauders as part of their bloody rampage across New Florence.
"One survived long enough to blew the main entrance to the mine in such a way that it looked like the entire complex had collapsed." Shaffer explained, pulling a vintage data-slate from one of his coats many pockets, "She was...interrogated... upon capture..."
"They raped her." I looked up at him, "I'm a big girl. A student of history, you don't have to try and sugar coat it for me."
"It is not an action worthy of anyone claiming to be a warrior." Shaffer responded, genuine anger in his voice, "They were scum, even by the standards of mercenaries."
"And, if memory serves, they got wiped out by the SLDF just a few years later, no survivors, so justice was served." I placed a hand on his arm, "As one of my professors used to say, we can't change the past, only try to learn from it."
"Truer words are seldom spoken." the Elemental nodded in agreement, visibly relaxing, "And one thing I have learned, is that there was a second, hidden entrance to the mine. One the Usurpers forces never found."
"Score one for the Good Guys." I smiled, "Let's get going, we need to make sure these people didn't die for nothing."
Returning to the transport, we continued to make our way up and around the mountain. Eventually coming to what claimed to have been a weather monitoring station. The padlock on the gate was no match for a pry-bar in the hands of someone like Shaffer, nor was the lock on the oversized garage next to the small, bunker like building. The insides had obviously been stripped at some point, but Shaffer didn't even blink. Instead, he made us way to a seemingly innocuous fuse-box and produced the same data-slate from his pocket pulling up a file, he began to flip some of the switches, seemingly at random, followed by pulling down the manual restart lever. There was a click, followed by the muffled sound of moving machinery behind the wall.
A massive cloud of dust filled the garage as the entire wall started to slowly, and with the screech of protesting gears, roll to one side. To my utter amazement, despite sounding like nails on a chalkboard, the hidden door actually opened fully, revealing a tunnel that led into the side of the mountain. Shaffer fund a switch one one wall and flicked it... only to be rewarded by a series of loud cracking sounds and a shower of broken glass as countless, centuries old lighting strips exploded as electricity was fed into them for the first time in I don't know how long.
On the bright side, pun fully intended, the massive searchlights on the Cortez were in perfect working order, and easily illuminated our path forward..
It was a long and slow drive. While the tunnel was obviously intended for large vehicles, a Cortez isn't exactly a family sedan, and some of the tighter turns took careful and slow navigation. We managed to make it some two kilometers into the mountain, the gradual downwards gradient making it obvious that our destination was buried deep under the mountain. But, eventually even a genetically engineered super soldier needs rest, and we parked for the night on a flat section.
Not going to lie, it felt more than a little odd to be sitting there, under who knows how many billions of tons of rock, eating spaghetti bolognese and a reasonably fresh salad. I've explored a few strange places in my time, but few expeditions were as downright civilized.
The next day saw us reach the mine proper, the tunnel widening out but still continuing to descend. We did find evidence that there had originally been some kind of trolley system running from the surface down to whatever the SLDF had been playing with. Following the old tracks led us to a security checkpoint that bore the name Project MAYFLOWER, something that hadn't shown up in any of our research. I did double check that Shaffer wasn't holding out on me a second time, but he assured me that he'd never come across the name in any of his research. Still, it at least made it clear that something had been built in the mine, even if it did turn out to be nothing but a vault full of hazardous waste.
Mid afternoon saw us reach the end of the tunnel, the road opening out onto a wide landing overlooking a cavern easily as big as the one we'd found on Helm...only this time almost completely filled with a single massive structure. And words can't really describe exactly how big this... THING was. It was a good Kilometer high, maybe more, and disappeared off into the distance in either direction. The outside was covered in a network of girders and walkways, connected by a maze of staircases and elevators, like some insane, three dimensional maze. A suspended walkway connected it to the landing by way of a metal building, upon the side of which, half covered in... I really don't want to imagine what, was a massive Cameron Star and the words 'Project MAYFLOWER Operations Control'.
Making our way inside, we found it to be in near immaculate condition: almost every surface was protected by a dust cover, and the lights came on as soon as we stepped through the door, and didn't explode in a shower of sparks and glass shards. Computers, once commonplace but now irreplaceable anywhere outside of the Sol system, booted up, screens coming to life as they ran diagnostics and sorted hundreds of years worth of data. I returned to the Cortez for a thermos of coffee while Shaffer watched the streams of data fill the screens, trying to make some sense of it all. I busied myself by looking over the paperwork, thankfully preserved by the cold, dry air of the old mine. Mostly it was basic stuff; staff rotas, maintenance logs, general housekeeping, stuff like that. Hardly a page turner, but if you know what to look for, it can actually tell you quite a lot.
"It's hollow." I spoke aloud without even realizing it, surprising Shaffer somewhat.
"What is?" he asked, looking at me over one broad shoulder.
"That... structure out there. It's hollow." I showed him the report I'd been reading, "This is a requisition log for structural braces, the same type used to built domed cities on worlds with inhospitable atmospheres. I've seen them on abandoned colonies on other expeditions."
"Interesting." Shaffer looked at the records and nodded, "I doubt any of my fellow Seekers would have made the same connection."
"Well, you didn't invite me along just because I'm a good lay." she said to him
"Well, not just that." Shaffer smiled, earning himself a playful swat to the back of the head.
Grabbing our packs, we made our way across the walkway to the structure. Although, calling it just a walkway didn't do it justice, as it was more than wide and sturdy enough to accommodate the Cortez, but neither of us wanted to risk getting it stuck on the far side. Once across, we found another large building affixed to the outside of the structure. Much like the first one, it seemed to be in immaculate condition, and I found myself worried about just why it had been abandoned so thoroughly and yet with no sense of urgency. Hell, we found clean plates and cups left out to try next to a sink in a small break room, indicating that the people who had left had done so with the obvious intention of returning.
Eventually we found a door marked 'Main Observation and Management'. The door was thick and securely locked, far beyond the ability for even Shaffer and a pry-bar to open. Fortunately, the Star League had a tendency to use the same basic lock on pretty much every door, and I had actually taken a class on bypassing them as an elective. I might not set any records, but I got us in without having to resort to any more destructive options. The room beyond was massive, evidently breaching the wall of the structure and into interior some way. It sloped down towards the far wall, which was made of a single massive window covered by a retractable screen. Before it sat row after row of computers, one of which was amazingly still active, a video file ready to play.
I'll admit, after Helm, I was a little uncertain about pressing buttons in previously hidden Star League megastructures, but Shaffer obviously felt no such reservation.
<<"Hello. My name is Dr. Liam Dorahl, director of Project MAYFLOWER." a long dead face appeared on the screen, "In this series of short films, I will endeavor to familiarize you with exactly what we are attempting here on New Florence. If you have not already signed and submitted your non-disclosure agreements, please stop this video immediately.">>
There was a momentary pause, and then the recording continued.
<<"It is no secret that the Hegemony is surrounded on sides, with no room to grow beyond our existing borders. Here at Project MAYFLOWER, we seek to remedy this by developing new forms of colonization. To this end, we created this enclosed ecosystem.">> the image switched to what appeared to be a large valley, surrounded by forested mountains, complete with a small lake and a river, besides which sat a small village or town, surrounded by farmland and orchards, <<"Completely isolated and self-sufficient, it is our hope that the 5,000 colonists who have been selected to take part in this experiment will pave the way to countless new opportunities in regards to the utilization of previously overlooked worlds.">>
<<"During your time with Project MAYFLOWER, it is important that you remember one thing above all.">> Dr. Dorahl reappeared on the screen, his expression serious, <<"Under no circumstances can...">> there was a his, and the video looped back, <<"Under no circumstances can...">> it froze for a moment, then an error message appeared on the screen, announcing a corrupted file.
"Well, that wasn't at all ominous." I deadpanned, but Shaffer was already making his way to a control panel beside the window.
He flicked a switch, and the massive shutter slid down, bright light filling the previously somewhat dark room. I shielded my eyes until they had a chance to adapt, then made my way over to join him.
"Oh ****** me..." I muttered, almost breathless, as I looked out across the interior of Project MAYFLOWER.
It was... again, I don't really have the words to describe it. Bigger than the cavern that had played home to Project PROSPERO, that was for sure, and that one had played home to an entire sea. This one was so big that I couldn't see the other side, despite the crisp, clear skies. And it was the sky I was looking out across, given how we must have been a good two Kilometers up in the air. Looking round, I could see a mountainside stretching out either side of us, parts of it hidden in the mist from a massive waterfall that poured out the side of the mountain maybe a hundred meters below us, dropping so far it hit the ground as rain rather than a vertical river.
I noticed a pair of powerful binoculars mounted to a rail that ran along the inside of the window, and quickly made use of them. In the distance, I could see fields of golden corn and wheat, pastures filled with sheep and cattle. A river ran through the scene, powering a watermill attached to a large, rustic farmhouse. I followed the road from the farm down the side of the river until I reached what had obviously once been the same town we had seen in the briefing video. It had grown somewhat, but was still obviously the same, carefully planned settlement. I saw a windmill, an honest to God windmill, slowly rotating in the breeze, dwarfed only by the spire of a church that stood in the very center of town, taking up one entire side of the main square.
And yet the village and the surrounding farmland took up only a small fraction of area, which spread out before us, a patchwork of wild meadows, forests and even a small lake. In the very far distance, I could just make out the outline of the mountains on the far side.
"Kerensky's bones..." Shaffer gasped, having likewise made use of a pair of binoculars, "There are people living in there!"
I suddenly realized that he was right: I had been so busy taking in the big picture to realist that there were hundreds if not thousands of people in the town and the farmland beyond, simply going about their daily lives, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. As if they weren't living in a massive, artificial structure buried who knows how deep beneath a mountain on a forgotten, abandoned world. Their clothing was simple, but obviously we'll made and maintained, if a little on the drab side. I saw no signs of motorized transport, those who weren't walking were either riding horses or in carts drawn by some kind of draft animal. It was like looking back in time to an age long before the diaspora, when humanity had been limited to just Terra. But that made no sense, as the structure and everything in it was obviously the work of the Hegemony, the single most advanced civilization in human history!
"Promise me something," I turned to Shaffer, "Promise me we're not going to blow this one up."
We spent the rest of the day exploring the control and observation buildings, trying to find some clue as to exactly what had happened to Project MAYFLOWER. It seemed safe to assume that the engineers who had been killed on the surface had given their lives to protect the secrets it contained from Amaris and his thugs. But Dr. Dorahl hadn't been among the dead, and someone had done a thorough job erasing almost the entire contents of the computers, leaving just the automated systems, and the fragment of the briefing video we had seen.
I was the first to notice that the 'sun' in the cavern was starting to set, indicating that the artificial environment was synced with the day and night cycle of New Florence. This was proven when stars appeared in the 'sky', and I recorded some of the patterns from out night on the mountainside. I eventually convinced Shaffer to call it a day, but he was as giddy as a child Christmas morning, and was especially enthusiastic in bed that night.
The next morning, over breakfast, he admitted that a discovery like this would ensure his place amongst his peoples highest echelons, a sure path to higher rank. I'm not above admitting that I had spent more than a little while imagining how gracious I would be while I accepted the upmost apologies from all my fellow archaeologists and historians who had doubted my report into our Helm expedition. I'd have my pick of tenured positions, providing the stability and financial security I needed.
We could have left then and there: we had more than enough evidence to secure additional funding and resources for a fully equipped and staffed expedition, but neither of us wanted to risk having our discovery taken away from us. So instead we kept looking until we found an elevator shaft leading down towards the interior surface of the structure. One car was deep below, but the other was waiting for us, with comfortable, padded seats, complete with safety restraints. And we sure needed them, given just how quickly it descended, taking us all the way to the bottom in a little over five minutes. I had the feeling it could go faster, but had been set to a slower speed for comfort.
Upon reaching the bottom, we discovered that that was probably a good idea: the second elevator car was waiting for us, doors open, the skeletal remains of a man in the crumpled rags that had once been his lab coat. Closer examination yielded a security pass that identified the body as that of the missing Dr. Dorahl, and a faded bottle that had once contained the medication he had been taking to combat a serious heart condition. Back during the time of the Star League, it would have been fixed with a surgery to swap it out for a cloned organ grown from his own DNA. But even then, it was a major operation that would have required significant downtime after, and I guess he didn't want to miss anything.
Shaffer pocketed his security pass, surprisingly respectful of a scientist who had died of natural causes.
The bottom of the elevator shaft connected to a prep room, lined with sets of what had once been examples of local clothing, but they too had long ago turned to useless rags. Instead, we set out in our usual clothes, packs strapped to our backs, eager to see what awaited us.
First thing I noticed was the smell of pine needles and damp earth in the air, even before we reached the end of the small, artificial cave that hid the entrance to the elevators. The air was crisp and clean, not cold so much as... fresh. The sound of birdsong and the buzz of insects was all around us, mixed with the distant rumble of the waterfall, which bathed the area in a fine mist. We had emerged into a forest filled with Terran species that must have cost a small fortune to transport all the way to New Florence, only to be hidden in some underground science experiment. An old game trail led down hill, so we followed it until we reached the edge of the forest and could get our first good look at the inside of Project MAYFLOWER.
Had I not known the truth, I would have been completely fooled by the artificial sky high above our heads. I tried to imagine how they'd replicated it so perfectly, but it was just beyond my comprehension. What little information we'd been able to gleam from the surviving records seemed to indicate that the 'sky' was made up of over a million individual lights able to replicate any point in the day/night cycle on demand. The computer was even capable of adjusting the light levels to take into account the changing of the seasons. And all of this was linked to probably the biggest and most complex environmental control system ever built. Hell, it probably have been easier and cheaper to terraform an actual planet than set up such a complex, closed system that was able to just be left to run for so long without outside interference or maintenance.
The forest ended with a wide meadow filled with wild flowers and knee high grass, a soft breeze making it sway back and forth like a rolling sea of green. Just how the bloody hell they managed to replicate wind so perfectly is still beyond me. A distant hedgerow indicated a road, or at least a track of some kind, so we started walking. Had I not known the truth, I might have been mistaken for imagining we were a pleasant stroll in the countryside, the illusion was so perfect. We couldn't find an opening in the hedge, but that's when having an Elemental along helps, as Shaffer quickly made one for us. The road beyond, and I use that word loosely, was little more than a cart track, following a mostly straight path towards where we believed that the town lay.
I want to make it clear that I'm an archaeologist, not an anthropologist, and I don't think Shaffer had any formal education beyond how to kill people, so I really don't think we should be held responsible for what happened next.
We could see a few people working the fields in the distance, but they were too far away to try and make contact, so we continued on until we came to a crossroads. Unfortunately, we hadn't been able to find a map of the interior, and anyway, it would have been centuries out of date if we had, so we had to try and guess which way to go. We were still debating it when we heard the clip-clop of an approaching horse, and looked round to see a young woman, no more than sixteen standard years old, riding side-saddle towards us.
"Hello." I smiled, holding my hands wide open and apart in a bid to appear as non-threatening as possible, "We're looking for..."
I didn't have a chance to finish, as she suddenly pulled hard on the horses reigns and urged it to turn as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, it jerked round a little sharper than she'd anticipated, and she was thrown from the saddle as it bolted off back down the track. Reacting far faster than I thought possible, Shaffer leapt forward and caught her before she could hit the ground, her almost adult form looking very much like a small child in his massive arms. He set her on her feet with the grace of someone accustomed to having to take his comparatively immense physical size and strength into consideration, and she stood before us, shaking like a leaf.
"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to startle you like that." I kept my distance, trying to sound as reassuring as possible, "Let me start over: my name is Sarah and this is my friend Alan..."
She didn't give me a chance to finish, as she bolted almost as fast as the horse had, leaving the two of us standing there.
"Well, that could have gone better." Shaffer mused, dryly.
With little else to go on, we decided to set off in the same direction as the frightened young woman, all be it at a far slower pace, less we give the impression that we were chasing her.
"We need to play this carefully: these people have been isolated for centuries." I advised, "We have no idea how much they know of the outside world. Hell, they might believe that the Star League is still intact, or that they're the last of humanity."
"I have heard tell of isolated, forgotten colonies that my people rediscovered." Shaffer nodded, "The sudden and unexpected shift in their world view can be... difficult."
We continued down the road until we heard the unmistakable sound of a large group of people approaching. Pausing, we allowed them to come into view still some distance away, and I felt my fight-or-flight reflexes kicking into overdrive as we found ourselves confronted by a large group of men, ranging from late teens to I'd say early fifties, armed with an assortment of improvised but no less deadly weapons.
"Okay, follow my lead, and be ready to run like hell." I advised under my breath as I raised my hands, "I know that this is somewhat of a cliche, but could you please take us to your leaders?"
"I can not believe that you just said that." Shaffer rumbled as he allowed himself to be disarmed, and we had our hands bound before rough sacks were placed over our heads.
We were led away for maybe half a kilometer, then forced onto the back of a cart or wagon of some kind, surrounded by armed guards. It was a long and somewhat bumpy ride, but eventually it smoothed out, and I could hear the sound of hooves on flagstones, indicating that we had reached the town. I struggled to hear what was being said, but they were talking so fast and in a strange accent, so I was only able to pick out the occasional word here and there. Concerning words, like 'devils', 'high priest' and 'cleansing'. Words that brought piles of wood and kindling to mind. If it wasn't for the reassuring presence of Shaffer just to one side, who I felt sure would have had little trouble breaking the rope binding his hands and fighting our way to, if not freedom, then at least somewhere we could make a run for it from, I might have panicked.
I felt the air turn cooler, and our footsteps began to echo as we were led inside a large building, most likely the impressive church we had seen from the observation room. From there we were forced down onto our knees, the sacs removed from our heads. Blinking, I waited until my eyes adjusted to the light, and looked around: we were surrounded by a number of men in rough, basic uniforms, each one bearing an approximation of the Cameron Star on the right breast. Each was armed with a weapon of some kind, mostly swords and clubs, but a couple had longbows, which wasn't the best choice for a confined space, but would make running... complicated, should the need arise. Looking beyond them, I saw a small huddle of older men, dressed in dour robes, talking in hushed voices.
Few people realize it, but Standard English, also known as Star League English, is a carefully designed language, intended to remain stable and comprehensible to people from world's hundreds of lightyears apart. As such, it is still possible to understand something written or recorded centuries ago, which meant that I was able to understand what I could hear, and I didn't like the sound of it.
"Can I ask you a question." I glanced sideways to Shaffer, "You Trueborn... you all have contraceptive implants, right?"
"Is this really the best time to ask something like that?" he responded, eyeing me with more than a few little confusion.
"Humor me." I gently nodded towards the apparent priests, "I get the feeling that we may not have much time to talk later on."
"Yes, we are implanted with contraceptive implants developed from Star League era versions." he explained.
"How reliable are they?" she asked him
Shaffer actually turned his head to look at me, and I could see realization dawning behind his eyes.
"That scar, on your abdomen." he asked, obviously struggling with the words, "How did you..."
"C-section. A little over two years ago." I fixed my eyes straight ahead, "You left me with a not-so-little something extra to remember you by after Helm."
"You...you have a child?"
"Yes. Although, to be more precise, we have a child. A daughter, to be exact. Kaja." I nodded towards the bonds holding my hands together, "Forgive me if I don't dig out a photo to show you."
Shaffer looked at me as if I was taking in some strange, alien language.
It was to be expected, I guess. Clanners, especially Trueborn, don't really go in for the whole 'family' thing, outside of what I've read about the Ghost Bears. The only offspring he'd ever expected, or wanted, would come from a test-tube and a pipette, not some overly horny Freebirth archaeologist who'd let her hormones get the better of her while also forgetting to renew her own birth control. I wasn't stupid enough enough to have any foolish dreams about the three of us living a life together, white picket fences and all. But, faced with the very real and imminent possibility of never seeing my daughter again, I felt a strange compulsion to better understand how she'd came to be. I known it was an awful lot to dump upon him without warning, especially under the circumstances, but I wasn't exactly thinking long-term at the time.
The threat of impending death kind of focuses the mind.
Speaking of...
"You notice the alter over there?" I nodded towards a large table with a cloth draped over it, below a stained glass window depicting what I think was supposed to be James McKenna as some kind of saintly being.
"Aff." Shaffer nodded, obviously happy to be back on something of a less existentially challenging subject.
"Notice the legs?" I motioned towards under the edge of the overhanging cloth, "It's no normal table..."
Shaffer blinked, then a dangerous smile crept over his face.
It's amazing how someone that big can move so fast when they want to, but he was on his feet, the rope binding his wrists falling away like it was made of straw, and moving before I even had a chance to finish my sentence. The guards were equally surprised, and he brushed them aside effortlessly, moving so fast I had trouble following him. Reaching the alter, he gripped the cloth and pulled, somehow leaving the two lit candles still standing, to reveal a pristine Star League vintage holotable below. It looked far bigger and more complex than the kind you'd expect to find the a military command post of some major House unit, but it was unmistakable in its origins and purpose.
The guards and priests were just starting to react as Shaffer pulled Dr. Dorahl's security pass from his pocket and placed it on the table.
There was a faint hum, then an audible blip as the centuries dormant machine came to life, reacting to the presence of the chip inside the security pass. The hum grew louder as the display started to glow, eventually forming a face in the air above the table, one I recognized from the recording we'd seen up in the observation room as belonging to Dr. Dorahl. Only he looked older, and obviously in a great deal of pain, as the recording hidden inside the pass started to play.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know how much longer I have... I should have listened to the doctors, but there always seemed to be other things that needed my attention." his voice was raspy, his breathing shallow and labored, "But now... there is no time. Not any more. We've been betrayed, by those who we thought we could trust. I don't think they know about the... about you, but we can't take any chances. The others have gone to hide all traces of MAYFLOWER, but they should have been back by now. I overrode the safety... it was a mistake. Listen, only those you can trust as you trust me will know to bring you this message. Listen to them, only they can help you now..."
The image faded, only to be replaced with a slowly rotating Cameron Star, and all hell broke loose.
It took days, almost an entire week, to calm things down to the point where I felt comfortable going to sleep without the fear that I'd wake up surrounded by a mob arms with pitchforks and torches. A week of seemingly endless meetings with the priests and town elders, as we tried to work out exactly what had happened. It soon became clear that the people had no idea that they were living in a massive, subterranean structure, no idea that the wider universe even existed. All they knew was that, centuries ago, their ancestors had been brought to the valley by a group they called The Watchers, who had guided them as they built their idea of paradise. Then, one day, The Watchers had simply vanished, and life in their quiet little utopia had continued on without interpretation ever since.
That was, at least, until we arrived.
After much discussion, Shaffer and I decided that simply telling them the truth could cause no end of trouble. Instead we did our best to play along with whatever sociology experiment Dorahl had been running. Better to perpetuate the lie than risk the truth. More time was spent touring the interior of the structure, including visiting the two other, smaller communities that had been established to deal with the still growing population. Without access to more than the most basic of medicines or medical knowledge, infant mortality was shocking, almost on a par with some Periphery worlds I knew of. The locals knew no better, and were genuinely shocked that we were shocked.
One night, a little over a week after we arrived, Shaffer sat down with me and poured two cups of the local hooch.
"You said you had a photo." his voice was surprising calm.
"Yes." I reached into my pack and dug out my journal, where I kept a recent photo of Kaja. Placing it on the table, I allowed him to take his time looking at it.
"She has your eyes... and your smile." he spoke after a while.
"She has your build, hence the need for the C-Section." I countered, "I'm not looking for anything from you. It's just, facing possible death like that... she was on my mind."
"I... I understand that you would think that way." Shaffer nodded, not taking his eyes off the photo, "Forgive me, but..."
"You're not the first man in human history to have fatherhood sprung on him. But, like I said, I'm not looking for anything from you, once we leave."
"I am not leaving." He finally looked up, "These people...they can not remain here indefinitely. We both saw that the systems are starting to slowly fail. They need to be ready to face the wilder world, when that time comes."
"Don't you have commitments? To your Clan, I mean?"
"Yes, but the Clans have a commitment to the people of the Inner Sphere, perhaps of this place above all else. No, I will remain, but I have something to ask of you, something that I have no right to ask, given..." He gestured towards the photo.
"Like I said, I'm not looking for anything from you. What do you need?" she asked him
"See that this is returned to my Clan." he reached round behind his head and undid the clasp on a chain holding what I assumed to be some kind of advanced ID tag, "I have placed a message inside, telling them of this place, and my reasons for remaining. Who knows, maybe, one day, they will come find me, find this place."
Two days later, we returned to the Cortez and removed anything of any use to him, leaving me with just my personal effects and enough suppliers to see me home safe. Shaffer handed me the remainder of the money his Clan had provided to fund the expedition, as well as the registration documents for the transport. He'd seemed strangely hesitant to give back the photo of Kaja, so I told him to keep it as something to remember me by. There were no tearful goodbyes, no decorations of undying love or anything stupid like that. Our relationship had always been an odd combination of strict professionalism, genuine friendship and no-strings-attached sex, and we both knew it. Still, it felt a little odd to shake his hand that last time, knowing that this time, I truly never would see him again.
The drive back to the surface, then down out of the mountains and back to the waiting DropShip was long and lonely, the waiting crew accepting my story about a sudden rockfall carrying Shaffer over the edge of a cliff and to his death far below. They were getting paid, one way or another, so it was no skin off their nose. Take-off was a little nerve-wracking, but we made it up in largely one piece, and made it back to the waiting JumpShip.
I didn't return to Alpha Eridani, but insisted managed to book passage to Outreach, where I sold the Cortez and made some discreet inquiries into how one might get in contact with the Clans. A couple of HPG message's back and forth to Stewart arranged for my cousin to keep looking after Kaja for a little longer while I made the long journey all the way up to Tukayyid. I had to sit through several hours of questioning by a representative of ComStar, who seemed me interested in to anything we may have found on New Florence than the reported death of Shaffer, who had been traveling under diplomatic credentials, but ComStar gonna be ComStar, robes or no robes.
Eventually, they set up a meeting with a representative of Clan Diamond Shark, who apparently acted as proxies for the Clans no actively trying to conquer the Inner Sphere. They actually turned out to be a member of that Clans Merchant Cast, not a warrior, and was surprisingly polite and open when I told her what had really happened, including handling over the only copy of the recordings I had taken, as well as all my notes. She promised to see that they made it back to Clan Goliath Scorpion, then asked the obvious question: why wasn't I shouting my discovery from the rooftops, given what it would do for my professional reputation.
Well, I'll tell you what I told her. Shaffer had been right when he said that the people living inside Project MAYFLOWER weren't ready to face the outside world. Last thing they needed was every government, corporation and LosTech hunter in the galaxy fighting on their doorstep over what secrets their home might hold.
Least, not until Shaffer has a chance to get them ready.
The End