Sonny Whitelaw - Ark Ship

266 Pages·2016·0.61 MB·English

by  Whitelaw Sonny

Double Dragon Publishing
www.double-dragon-ebooks.com
Copyright ©2005 by Sonny Whitelaw
Double Dragon Publishing 2005

NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or
distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper
print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe
fines or imprisonment.
The Ark Ship—Book Two of the Sanctuary Series
Copyright © 2005 Sonny Whitelaw
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United
States by Double Dragon eBooks, a division of Double Dragon Publishing Inc., Markham, Ontario
Canada.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic,
or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval
system, without the permission in writing from Double Dragon Publishing.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Double Dragon eBook
Published by
Double Dragon Publishing, Inc.
PO Box 54016
1-5762 Highway 7 East
Markham, Ontario L3P 7Y4 Canada
www.double-dragon-ebooks.com
www.double-dragon-publishing.com
ISBN: 1-55404-209-7
A DDP First Edition March 14, 2005
Book Layout and
Cover Art by Deron Douglas
Ark Ship
Book Two of the Sanctuary Series
Special Edition eBook
Sonny Whitelaw
From The Publisher
Ark Ship was originally released by Double Dragon Publishing in 2004. It was well received and became
something of a best seller. At the same time Sonny Whitelaw was working on a small project with MGM
Studios called “Stargate SG1™: City of the Gods". As it often happens, working on one project
makes a writer wish they had done things a little differently in another project. These wishes led to a
conversation with Sonny that resulted in the eBook you are presently reading.
While the story has on a large scale remained the same, Sonny has changed a few things which include
names and a few pivotal plot sequences. This new title has been re-edited and re-worked, I know you'll
enjoy it.
Deron Douglas
Publisher, Double Dragon Publishing, Inc.
Acknowledgments
Sabine C. Bauer for a never-ending supply of caterpillars, and Deron Douglas the most understanding
publisher in the business.
Dedication
Cody and Amber
"Then the different flood came, as humanity reached its first billion and passed it—the flood that seemed
to need no stemming. That flood, as it surged ever higher, extinguished old freedoms. What replaced
them was not new freedom, but license, an arrogant assumption that no title to a place was valid unless
written in a newly invented language by one of the most recent arrivals on the planet. For this new flood
there was no new Ark. It is already too late for a hoard of splendid creatures—and for how many lesser
ones we never knew?—to find sanctuary."
-David Bower, Founder Friends of the Earth
Part 1: Katyl
Chapter 1
December 05, 2499
Avalon Davo sat alone in the ark ship's darkened atrium, her mind catching the cobwebs of space. She
sensed the oily darkness of the Others lurking amidst the minds of the VIPs, but there was no danger to
the ship so she ignored them—for now. Asegeir's captain was not expecting her aboard until they
entered Dim5 in three hours, and she wanted to say goodbye to Earth from this unique perspective. After
all these years, being back in space was as breathtaking as her first time, almost three hundred years
before. And as always, leaving Earth was painful.
As the C20 bonded to the Viking class ark ship, Avalon had expected to be pulled aboard eighteen
months earlier, when Asegeir tested its Dim5 engines. Ryl, her daughter, was not surprised when it didn't
happen. Neither engine tests, said the Meta, nor fifth dimension jumping completed Asegeir's life-force.
Only life, including sentient life, could do that.
Avalon had felt that life-force grow as a million humans emigrated from Earth to their new home, adding
to the billions of creatures, great and small, that made Asegeir a living machine.
Then the official launch day arrived. Dignitaries and politicians sipped flat champagne in microgravity, and
made tedious speeches thanking the alien Kwilloys and Dwins. Again. And they muttered disappointment
at the C20s’ absence. Again. Custom, convention, protocol, it was all necessary, Avalon knew, but not
for her. Though it wished otherwise, the NASA Gaia Corporation—NGC—had no jurisdiction over
C20s, so she stayed in character and ignored all invitations. Her bonding to the great spheroid ark ship
was an experience of the mind and soul, too intimate to be shared.
Now, a month after launching, Asegeir was about to leave its Spacedock cradle and depart on her
maiden voyage.
Avalon looked out through the transparent hull of the ark ship. She had been granted such a fortunate life.
Time to help in Earth's restoration, time to explore the galaxy, time to love and raise children. Time to
grieve. And now, time for an achingly familiar cycle to begin again.
From Asegeir's orbit around Mars, Earth appeared little more than a blue-white pinprick of light, barely
distinguishable from countless other lights in the vast inky blackness of space. Although she had been
gone less than an hour, Earth tugged at her, begging her to come home. Just a year, she promised, just a
goodwill tour before the ten-year voyage to find Gaia. We're not going to abandon you, but we need to
find the Great Ones and through them, offer the lesser cousins a place on our journey. And more
importantly, ask if they might one day consider returning to you and to forgive us our sins.
My sins, for was I not amongst those that almost destroyed you?
* * * *
In his office on the deck below, Captain Christopher Falcon stood grinding his teeth in frustration. Senior
Commander Stuart Phelan, Asegeir's Chief of Security, had just ordered the VIPs off the bridge.
Through the thin bulkhead separating Falcon's office from the bridge, he could hear a stream of invectives
from a voice he recognised as belonging to Senator Matheson.
"That's it,” Falcon declared, striding to the connecting door. “I will not tolerate the crew being bullied by
Earth-side politicians!"
A section of the transparent hull opaqued, and the image of Admiral Calvin Woodstock appeared on
screen. “Do not go in there, Captain, that's an order.” Woodstock's bushy grey eyebrows lowered over
equally grey eyes. “You try to talk with them and you set yourself up."
Falcon swung to face him. “I was set up eight years ago. This is just a delayed reaction. Sir.” He glanced
past the screen through the laminated diaglass hull to the boxlike, administrative hub of Spacedock.
Although the space station was over a hundred kilometres away, it was silhouetted by the rising Mars,
and Falcon could easily see the light shining from the Admiral's offices.
Woodstock's weatherworn face settled into its familiar, authoritative glower. “You don't have time to
deal with delayed reactions now. A delayed departure is unacceptable. I've entered an emergency
override to the umbilicals and am resetting countdown from minus forty-eight minutes to minus three
minutes."
Falcon glanced at his desk monitors to verify Asegeir's status. They were fully sealed and ready to go.
Immediate departure was an elegant, albeit temporary countermeasure to the furore. “AI,” he said to the
computer. “Command override for emergency detachment. Reconfigure our trajectory for three minutes.
And warn Jacobsen that Asegeir will make a forty-five minute parabolic loop past Mars."
"I'll call Jacob personally and explain.” Woodstock's voice betrayed a hint of amusement.
Falcon's lips curled in acknowledgement. Jacob Jacobson would wet himself if he saw Asegeir leave
Spacedock prematurely then head off in the wrong direction. The gravitational side effect of the Viking
Project had already been wildly successful, but the terraforming engineer was depending on Asegeir's
close flyby of Mars, combined with simultaneous detonation of subterranean charges, to release a huge
underground reservoir of water.
It would take Spacedock three minutes to retract the umbilicus to a safe distance, then Asegeir's
manoeuvring engines would back them away. Thirty minutes later the ark ship would cut in its primary
engines, then curve out and back past Mars. It was a straightforward procedure that did not require his
presence on the bridge. Still, his place was there, if only to support the crew.
His crew, now, Falcon reminded himself. He unconsciously touched the blue designator and gold status
bar on his uniform jacket.
The noise from the bridge turned ugly; scuffles had broken out. The situation was way beyond
unacceptable and Falcon wondered why things had gotten out of hand so fast. Too fast, he thought
suspiciously. Then he heard the Security Chief yell, “Any unauthorized person still on the bridge in sixty
seconds will be shot! A stun shot means you'll miss the short-range shuttle to Earth. And you all know,”
Phelan added in a pleasant voice, “how uncomfortable long-range shuttles Dim5 shuttles are, especially
when you're recovering from a stun gun hit. The Captain is not going to allow badgering and hysteria to
endanger Asegeir during critical manoeuvres."
Two minutes later it was all over. Falcon opened his office door and surveyed the darkened bridge. On
his left the one hundred and fifty metre long, forty metre high laminated diaglass hull was currently
opaqued to black. Commonly referred to as the LD, the hull was normally transparent. To his right,
coloured glow-worm lights lining the concave bulkhead winked in and out of view as shadowy figures
moved about.
"Opening single LD panel, no filtration,” announced Captain Peta Vol, Asegeir's Chief Commander.
A window-sized section of the LD became transparent. Marslight filtered through, illuminating the
deck-level cockpit and long catwalk railings around the inner bulkhead. Falcon strode to the cockpit