I’m writing War of the Gorgon as a sequel to the movie The Forbidden Planet. I have no permission to do from the rights holders to the movie. But one never knows. I present the first chapter here in full but still in draft form. Consider it unpublished fan-fiction and enjoy.
Chapter One
It is said that God created the Heavens and the Earth, the light, the life, and the living. Yet for all God’s glory from whence came the darkness. When all shall come and go, the darkness shall forever enlighten our soul. The Darkness Creed, Stanza 1, Verse 1.
Master Sergeant Rasima Khoury skipped every one or two steps on her bounding gait up the stairwell. Her unfettered raven hair reached down her back and bounced in lockstep with each leap on the staircase from her office up to the observation deck. Her heart beat raced increased but skipped no beat; it beat rapidly in response to her junior officer whose words and aristocratic airs combated and belittled her years of service against his upbringing. He often spoke combatively. “Don’t tell me things I already know,” and “we learned these things at our schools.” It was the way he accentuated his “don’t” and “our” that presented a superiority unbecoming a young, commissioned officer and the respect that she earned. He was an officer, and she was enlisted, so technically he did outrank her, but a long tradition within the forces dating back centuries always, but informally, subordinated junior officers under the senior enlisted. It was an unwritten rule. Isn’t that a quandary, she thought with her mind twisting and racing alongside each switchback on her long ascent up the stairwell, how an unwritten rule that senior enlisted lead the junior commissioned be accepted contrary to official rule. But now she couldn’t focus on his aristocratic attitude, for other concerns invaded her overactive imaginations. She instead sought the cathartic release from this physical climb to the eventual spiritual revelation that waited for her among the stars.
Wearing nothing but shoes, soft gray slacks, and an oversized plush blue pullover, she grabbed the handrail and swung herself around the switchback and bypassed the first step on her continuing ascent while her thoughts drifted to her coworkers. Lieutenant Johann Cray had recently arrived at the station and immediately flexed his cultural upbringing with an aggressive approach to her. But he was friendly, and she thought too friendly, to the young Staff Sergeant Maize Alexander. Maize was a good spacer, eager to learn, dedicated and intelligent. Rasima believed that she had a successful future before her. However, the station was down two personnel. Its field officer, Major Schooner Hannover currently enjoyed vacation during his mid-tour leave, and the enlisted trainee slot currently awaited fulfillment. Because of the shortages and keeping their schedules aligned to standard Earth time, Rasima, Johann, and Maize all worked twelve-hour shifts with Rasima splitting her shift evenly between Johann and Maize.
Something amiss stirred Rasima’s soul, and it powered her starward journey. But it also unsettled her with a coming danger, some harbinger or portent that she knew would reveal itself upon her destination. Trying to stay focused with each long step up the stairwell failed her. She couldn’t help but compare her own liberal explorations with Johann’s steadfast grounding within Earth’s former conservatism. Maybe he didn’t have the youthful exploration that I did. How ironic, she thought, that her long career carried her past the old beliefs, yet his youth which should have attracted the new, remained committed to the old. There are many lights in universe and only by traversing the darkness can one find true enlightenment, but while she journeyed on, he accepted a sedentary life. Only those on journeys, she thought, to traverse the unsettling darkness, but in doing so, one must accept not only the discomfort of truth but that of no truth. But with danger comes discovery, and she continued her ascent five hundred feet from the station’s heart to its only manned external structure within the God Mother orbiting Saturn.
She reached the final landing and stood before the door to the observation deck. Her labored breathing framed her racing heart and her olive skin glisten with sweat as her shirt hugged her now aroused breasts. She looked at the control panel and reached out to touch the plaque above it. This plaque adorned several locations throughout the stations. At the top of the plaque the words, “Covert Monitoring Station” was positioned above “Rhea,” the station’s name. All lettering was embossed in gold upon a deep blue background of pure lapis lazuli. Below “Rhea” was the official seal of their mission, an etched pictogram of a cypress tree and entangled within its trunk flares a cloth wrapped omphalos stone. This honored their patron saint of Rhea and the secret knowledge this and other stations under the Rhea program provide to mission command. Rasima loved the tactile feel of the plaque’s semi-precious stonework of self-discovery indicative of their mission to provide accurate intel to Earth. She always paused to feel this plaque outside the observation deck, for as she gave intel to Earth, here she received wisdom from the stars.
Before Rasima could activate the door’s mechanism for entry into the observation deck, the door opened, and Maize walked out unaware and bumped into her Master Sergeant. Caught by surprise, Maize noted her sergeant’s flowing hair, glistening face, and piercing nipples begging to be stroked under a soft shirt drawn tight with sweat. Lifting her eyes forward with a breath that belied a suddenly hard-beating heart, she didn’t expect Rasima at this time. “Ma’am, you left work early. I mean, I’m not late,” her breath catching with each word, “not that you need, I mean, I don’t care. You’re . . . um . . . my boss.” Maize was unsure how to continue. She undoubtedly didn’t expect this encounter, her mind begged, please ma’am, say something to stop me, as she slightly lowered her eyes.
With a steady voice Rasima interrupted and said, “It’s okay Maize, Lieutenant Cray is finishing up his shift now. I found it necessary to leave early.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“He is waiting for you to relieve him now. I’ll join you soon. But for now, the shift is yours.”
Maize couldn’t hide her embarrassment from her heated brow and raised her eyes with the only acceptable answer. “Yes, ma’am.” She walked by the stairwell, entered the lift, and departed the observation deck.
Rasima listened to the lift’s descending whir and smiled. Maize was a good spacer. She will advance quickly. She will learn to control her exuberance, but hopefully, and Rasima smiled, she will never lose it. With Maize gone and Rasima standing still, the door to the observation deck had automatically closed, and Rasima reached out and activated the controls. The door opened, and she walked through to where space beckoned.
Buried deep within its namesake moon of Saturn, Covert Monitoring Station Rhea was completely subterranean with two exceptions. One was an array of passive and active antennae molded from and into Rhea’s landscape across her surface. By using Rhea’s native resources, they blended completed into her landscape, invisible to any scanning. The second was an observation deck built into a crater that conformed to the rock and ice outcroppings. Its glass window was crafted on the outside using Rhea’s materials and conformed to its natural surroundings, yet it didn’t diffract the light entering it and its special coating provided the same heat signatures as its surrounding rock and ice.
Three lounge chairs and a couch along with an assortment of pillows, blankets, and a few small tables adorned this otherwise nondescript rectangular gray room. Enough space to comfortably accommodate five personnel along with cabinets that contained snacks and refreshments. The voice activated control panel allowed many varieties of lighting and music, but now Rasima only wanted a silent dark. There was no better path to self-discovery than being lost among the stars, for it squashes one’s ego.
The room was immaculate. There was no disturbance that indicated Maize’s past occupancy. In fact, cleanliness along with other attributes was prerequisite for assignment to stations such as these. Along with deep space travel, these assignments were not unlike submarine duty of Earth’s former military. Only highly qualified personnel passing a range of tests to determine their ability to manage themselves among others in close quarters received such assignments. It was a privilege. This station offered a privilege never imagined among the cramped quarters of those old submarines. Rasima stood still and spoke a single word. “Reveal.” The long section of the wall and ceiling silently motored downwards below the room revealing the universe.
Rasima, slightly calmed down for her vigorous climb, lost her breath. Only the most jaded of souls could not be overcome by this divine astronomical vista. The rings of Saturn full of vast colorful texture and rocky depth belted across the sky into the expanse of the Milky Way. An abundance of stars pierced deep within her soul. Even the faintest hint of Andromeda that distant and yet unreachable galaxy teased its visibility. This view would never fail to enliven even her darkest of moods. But she looked now not for pleasure but for inspiration and guidance.
Rasima remembered her education. Earth’s early citizens worshiped the sky, the sun, and the stars beyond. Their gnostic beauty and mystery held sway over rational thought to those early humans. But even as those early religions gave way to the one and many gods, the power of the stars still controlled rational thought. It was those dreams that drove humans beyond Earth and the Moon. Such trips were not born of rational thoughts, but of the irrational desire to risk life itself to travel and seek out new horizons and new life. Where the horizons of a wine-darkened sea beckoned and intoxicated sailors of both yesteryear and today, the endless horizons born of space birthed new desires for humankind to rise above its pettiness, its war, and embrace a cosmopolitan approach to explore the mighty cosmos.
She continued searching her memories. Looking outward and upward adduced the ability for humankind to look inward. Accepting now a multi-dimensional self, humanity found within itself ability and strength. Yet at times, one must forego oneself to learn and discover. Become irrational to find the rational, to lose and listen. Rasima remembered this kind guidance that opened her mind from her time studying at the Cairo University under Dr. Ammon T’mana, its Professor Emeritus of Astronomical Studies. She filed a thought for future action. I really should contact him. It’s been forever since we talked.
She knelt on her knees and kept her back straight. She draped a blanket around her back lifting it over her head. She meditated her breathing and heartrate to levels audibly undetectable. She looked out beyond Saturn at each star accepting their existence within her. Her mediation on each star took some indeterminate time. Her gaze slowly moved over to the Family of Aquila. She look deeply into Eagle constellation and its brightest star Altair named after the Arabic phrase al-nesr al-ṭā’ir or the flying eagle. But it wasn’t there. The star was gone. In its place a dark void, a pit of some deep darkness. She was sure she had the right time and location. The other stars of great eagle constellation of Aquila were present but not Altair. She knew its fourth planet had at least one Earth settlement. She looked deeply at the Altair’s neighboring stars of Tarazed and Alshain and even they seemed faded as if the darkness that consumed Altair was spreading outward. But the next three closest stars Tseen Foo, Sung, and Deneb El Okab sparkled normally. Suddenly specific scripture from the ancient and extinct Quor’ell rose from her meditative state. This passage now exploded and enlivened her portent. The horror it conveyed deepened her breath and increased her heartrate whose noises now flooded the room. She quickly stood. The blanket settled on the floor in a heap. Leaving the room without closing the view, she headed straight for the lift and back to the station.
While isolation and boredom hallmark the life of any remote assignment, complacency is its true enemy. But physical fitness and intellectual pursuits help to focus that life for some, others enjoy the simplicity of game, the desire to win and only to win. Having now assumed her shift and completing her shift’s onboarding duties, Staff Sergeant Maize Alexander took the latter approach. And as the station’s leading Canfuci Gambit player, she strategically placed down a card and under-trumped her opponent, Lieutenant Johann Cray.
“So, tell me, young lieutenant, sir,” with just the slightest of vocal inflection, “Is it the thrill of humiliation, your inherent need for punishment, or the inability to learn that keeps you coming back round after losing round?”
Across from Maize, Cray studied her carefully. Staff Sergeant Alexander impressed him as both a player and a person. He knew by studying her personnel file upon arrival that she was Earthborn of a Scottish mother and Navajo father. He saw a playful almost pan-cultural cunning intelligence coming from her pleasing dark eyes enlarged by her short black hair highlighted in Scottish red trims. He knew he would do well to watch her. She is oh so lovely to watch, he caught himself thinking as his eyes drifted across the room to hide a lustful stare. “Neither Maizon,” using her proper name, “you are a fierce player, but to be the best, I only need to learn from the best.”
“Well, thanks LT, I—"
Cray scoffed and cut her off, “to bad you’re not.” And he played a card to undertrump her undertrump.
Maize smirked, asshole, knowing the only way for her to win now was to complete the third undertrump otherwise the game would continue. But she couldn’t with her current hand. Then hearing the all too familiar alarm, she jumped out of her seat and stepped over to her control console
The alarm indicated a single light burst. Most likely usual traffic. Being that Cray’s shift was over and Rayla had yet to return from the observation deck, Maize took this one alone. Her fingers danced across the controls with lusty familiarity. She said, “a single high confidence target, most likely ours.” She well-remembered her training that the station recorded all mission activity both video and audio, so she spoke as required. “Initiating passive Mode 4X interrogation.”
The LT looked on in wonder as she demonstrated mastery of procedures and how her fingers danced across the controls. He whispered, “always by the book.” Then continued his rather selfish thought, I hope she doesn’t think that I’m nothing but mission. While she continued her duties, he reflected on his assignment. CMS Rhea was a remarkable but simple station. The operating and command room occupied the entire side of an open area that also included cooking, dining, and lounge areas. A fitness room was set off in its own area to one side, and the hallway to the billets and personal offices next to the fitness area. On-duty personnel were allowed access to the lounge, cooking and dining areas. Fitness was allowed during duty but only when another was on-duty. Otherwise, all fitness was to be done off-duty. The billets were expansive. A large comfortable bed, a couple of chairs, and normal bedroom furniture occupied each room. Each contained an office area and accessed the station’s digital libraries containing Earth’s vast resource of entertainment and educational media.
The control room contained a large central viewing screen and surrounding smaller screens that displayed other mundane and technical readings for station efficiency and mission peripherals. There were three command stations each capable of full command but linked so that two or three could work in tandem for multiple bursts and intrusions. While the station itself was weaponless other than rifles and sidearms, surrounding satellites and other larger bodies belonging to Saturn were equipped with space weaponry to protect the secret existence of the station and to defend against early enemy aggressions.
Maize spoke with an accentuated articulation for the record. “Single interstellar cruiser detected. Identification of Cruiser ID 57D. Full confidence across all spectrums. Reading verbals.”
“57D, that’s Captain Adams’s ship”, Cray spoke.
“Aye, verifying. C-57D returning from assigned mission to Altair. Verbals coming through now.”
“United Planet Cruiser C-57D, Captain Adams commanding.”
Cray directed a loud whisper to Maize, “told ya.” Maize rolled her eyes thankful his voice came from behind her and mouthed, “what a shit-face.”
The verbals continued. “Request immediate debrief with Space Command. Mission Red. Code 2 Alien tech with non-registered Earth biologic.”
“Initializing determinate analyses to verify verbals.”
While Maize continued her duties, Cray wondered at the verbals: Mission resulted in hostile crew loss, yet they recovered some form of, presumably safe, alien tech and found some stray to bring back home. He wandered over to a spare console to view the ongoing analysis. According to passive scans, the ship was down five crew members, but carried an unregistered human female whose parents were registered indicating she was born outside the United Planets. Cray smiled at the brilliance at their technology. CMS Rhea was not chosen randomly. Saturn emitted strong kilometric and plasma waves. Its nature made them their best aggressive interrogator. Complex machinery and active natural and biological functions down to the DNA all produce frequency. When one frequency passes through another, it is uniquely altered, and Cray knew we can read that alternation regardless of how minute. Through this technology and Earth’s exhaustive databases, Cray could read the identity, biological gender, and lineage of each person aboard the cruiser and compare them to the mission complement. Looking now at the readout, Cray noted the parentage of the stray as Edward Morbius and Julia Marsin. He stared at the name Marsin. That name triggered some deep memory, but like catching a firefly at noon, it remained elusive. His thoughtful inquiry quickly dissipated upon Rasima’s commanding voice emerging from the lift.
“Brief me, Maize,” ordered Rasima walking toward Maize.
“Maam, Cruiser 57D, Captain Adams commanding, has returned from its mission to assess the Bellerophon expedition on Altair IV. Bellerophon status unknow, but cruiser faced some form of hostility. Starting with Chief Quinn the other four casualties are …”
“Skip that. Continue the brief.”
“Yes Maam. The ship is returning with an unregistered Earth human, but age and DNA markers indicate offspring of Bellerophon’s members Dr. Edward Morbius and Biochemist Julia Marsin. They have acquired some alien technology, reported operative but nonhazardous. Scans confirm this and indicate an unknown energy source apart from normal functions.”
Maize kept her focus on the controls and readouts. Behind her Rasima knew what Maize hadn’t yet found concerning Altair. She couldn’t accept the coincidence of their arrival, the alien tech, and the star’s disappearance. Somehow, they were all connected and Rasima narrowed her eye orbits and tensed her countenance to unearth this mystery. She didn’t believe that the alien tech was presumed safe. She instructed Maize, “understood, read all passives from the Altair system, and initiate a level 5 interrogation of that cruiser’s transmission. I want a full makeup of the alien technology and get that data on Altair system now.”
Unconcerned with this abnormal request at a seemingly routine arrival, Maize focused herself at her workstation determined to find the answers for her Master Sergeant.
Rasima turned her gaze upon Cray. “Lieutenant, meet me in my office.” And softening her tone, she quickly added “at your convenience, sir.”
Cray watched Rasima depart into her office and admired Maize as she worked to uncover whatever the master sergeant wanted. She does follow directions well. He licked his lips at the thought and once again looked down and wondered at the familiarity of the stray’s mother. He saw Maize bring up the Altair system on the main view screen. Stars filled the screen, points of seemingly random light distributed among space. What was so special about them? He rarely visited the observation deck preferring instead the comfort of his office and the tight borders it provided against distractions. Swallowing, he figured he necessarily kept the sergeant waiting long enough and slowly walked toward her office.
The station was well outfitted to offset the rigors of duty within a sealed system. Command gave them all the luxuries they deserved. Desks were of spacious polished mahogany integrated with all necessary electronic control and displays. Each office had several chairs and a couch placed strategically among several tables both official and casual. Refreshments were ready when needed. It provided each member with the comforts of home including official resources. Behind Rasima’s desk was a large bookshelf provided by Command but populated with her favorite books. Command was quite lenient in whole baggage allowances. As such, Rasima kept an impressive personal library. She reached for a well-worn black book thick with gold-edged, cotton-infused scritta paper. She held it in reverence for its pages scripted a fragmented ancient religion only discovered in the last century or two from archeological sites spread throughout the galaxy. She found its historical message relevant and prophetical from a viewpoint unlike the old Earth religions. It was the message of the Quor’ell, and its deteriorated binding and curled pages only intensified her passion to study its secrets.
“Sergeant Khoury.”
Rayla stood when he entered. “Please take a seat Lieutenant.” She gestured toward a casual chair around a small table and walked toward an identical chair at the table.
Johann sat down, and Rasima sat across from him and laid the book on the table, opened to a particular page.
“Sergeant has something disturbed you about Cruiser 57D’s arrival.”
“Yes sir, but it’s not only that. The Altair system is gone. I saw it in the observation deck, nothing but the darkness of space. That ship is connected.”
“Really, sergeant. Gone?” Cray couldn’t help but to softly sigh. She and her religious beliefs about space.
She ignored his incredulity and pushed the scripture in front of him. Lieutenant, please read the underlined passage on the verso.
“The what?”
“Sorry sir, the left-hand page.”
Why does she do that, he thought, why must she shove her intellectual elitism around.
Nonetheless, he reluctantly yet amusingly took the book, found and read the passage: “From the abyss, he arose; out of shadow, he spoke, and from captivity, he conquered. As your light died, it grew in us. My light, your love, our God.” He unceremoniously laid the book back down.
“Thoughts on its meaning, sir.”
Cray had heard that passage before. He didn’t personally believe in the Quor’ell and thought them only as alien mythology. And that passage, he believed was a metaphor. “Sergeant, we were taught, as you know, that that passage is a metaphor to keep one’s faith and love in the face of unrelenting evil. That is, if you believe in that sort of thing.”
“I do, Lieutenant. But not as cursorily taught by the academy alien awareness course with a verse here and a verse there but when an open mind connects the fragments, meaning emerges. It is a prophecy that unrelenting evil shall one day rise again.”
Cray opened his mouth to respond with yet more skepticism, but Maize entered and quickly interrupted.
“LT, maam,” she quickly addressed them. “The Altair system is gone, completely destroyed, and I’ve isolated a strange energy signature.”
“Tell us something we don’t know Maize,” said the LT.
Maize kept her composure in face of his arrogance. “But did you know the energy signature of its destruction is aboard the Cruiser 57D, now headed to Earth.”