God's Dogs Book 2

The Second Law of Thermodynamics says that processes that involve the transfer or conversion of heat energy are irreversible.

Hayati Kayhan

Exiting hyper-space, the Blue Dragon met another corvette that cleared them for entry into a busy system.

The scientists were excited about their first glimpse of an advanced civilization. The mundane question was: ‘How did they deal with waste heat?’

Less advanced civilizations produced waste heat as a function of industry. The assumption was there would be a linear progression – more advanced equals more waste heat. It was what SETI on Earth searched for to find alien life.

Not finding it, one hypothesis that was floated was the more advanced a civilization, the more in tune with nature it became. Assuming star-faring civilizations, how did they accomplish it without producing waste heat? How did they work with nature to explore the galaxy?

The simple metaphor used to conceptualize an answer was white water rafting, or wind driven sailing ships, but the metaphor broke down when one remembered the rafts and ships had to be built. Building them produced waste heat. The second law of thermodynamics could not be repealed. So how did they do it?

The Guardians somewhat satisfied the scientists' curiosity about the social structure of the Congress, and how that structure seemed to violate systems theory. Now they chomped at the bit to find out the solution for the waste heat issue.

The team avoided them as much as possible. One way to do so was to man their stations and scan for hostiles.

Quinn sat at his tactical station on the bridge and watched as the scanners began populating with what the solar system was all about. It buzzed with activity, and the ship followed a prescribed route to the fourth planet. Similar to League worlds, as far as Quinn could tell, industry was in space, and the world was unpolluted. Cities dotted the verdant landscape, but it looked like they were smaller in size – on the order of a quarter million people.

The structures were spires and domes separated by wide boulevards and greenbelts. It was a stunning view from space, elegant and serene, and Quinn wondered what dangers awaited them.

It took half a day travel before the ship entered high orbit around Jomeca IV, the capital for this sector of the Galactic Congress.

“Traffic control says to hold here,” the bridge communication officer announced. “They have a shuttle that is big enough to ferry all the passengers to the conference complex.”

“Very good,” the captain replied. “Alert the passengers.”

Then Barry bounded onto the bridge. “You can’t board that shuttle.”

Quinn turned from his station. “You’ve had a precognitive hit.”

“Yes. It will explode.”

“General Quarters, Mr. Toyo,” the captain ordered.

The alarm blared and the announcement followed: ‘General Quarters. All hands man your battle stations. This is not a drill.’

Barry looked at the captain. “I need to talk to the shuttle and ground control as well.”

“Mr. Minor, set him up,” the captain snapped.

Barry took a comm-unit and waited for Minor to nod. Then Barry spoke, “Shuttle pilot, I am invoking Guardian protocols. Authorization beta-one-seven-three-two.”

“Processing,” came the reply. After a moment, the pilot said, “Accepted. What do you command, Guardian?”

“Return to base. We have credible intel that you are carrying a bomb.”

What came over the comm-link next was unintelligible. Then the pilot replied, “Returning to base.”

Barry looked at the comm officer and ordered, "Get me ground control."

Mr. Minor isolated ground control, and Barry spoke again, “Did you monitor my orders for the shuttle?”

“Yes, Guardian. What now?”

“We will use this ship’s shuttle to ferry down the passengers. I will be arriving on the first shuttle with a security detachment. They are authorized for weapons-carry.”

“Understood,” was the terse response. “I’ll have to report this to my supervisors.”

“As you should,” Barry said. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Barry froze for a moment then said, “Connect me to the shuttle pilot.”

“Connected, sir.”

“Pilot, eject now!”

The pilot ejection module, a capsule that enclosed the pilot and co-pilot, shot away from the shuttle, and shortly thereafter the shuttle exploded.

“So much for forensic evidence,” Quinn muttered.

“It does make our investigation more difficult,” Barry agreed. “Captain, if you would request search and rescue from ground control and prep your shuttle, please.”

“Right,” the captain said and signaled Toyo. Then she observed, “Our shuttle is smaller. It will take three trips to get everyone down.”

“Don’t send anyone,” Barry instructed, “until I say so. Ruski will stay here to provide protection and come down on the last shuttle. The Coyotes and I will go first to secure the landing site.”

The team was already in their light armor. They hit the armory and loaded up their rifles, energy packs, rail gun reloads, grenades, and whatever else they thought they might need, but carried all that in special bags. They only wore their handguns strapped to their legs in drop-down holsters. Once ready, they hustled to the hangar deck.

Barry was there and had donned his harness that carried his own weapon load-out. He still wore his ivory colored bishop mantle, which was apparently the totality of his formal uniform.

They boarded the shuttle and launched.

“Activate combat shield,” Barry told the pilot.

“Aye, sir, but you must know that planet defense people frown on that.”

“We’ve got an exemption to the rule.”

“Okay,” the pilot said and flipped on the shield.

“Vampire!” the co-pilot called out. “Vampire at 200 klicks and closing. Evasive maneuvers initiated.”

A point defense cannon on Blue Dragon speared the missile, and it exploded.

The team hastily strapped themselves down in the cockpit jump seats. Barry merely activated his boots to lock himself in place.

Moss observed, “I don’t think they like us.”

“Yeah. I get that,” River drawled. “They must feel pretty secure to try this right over the sector capital.”

Barry grunted and wondered, “Who would benefit from the crisis this will create?”

Quinn answered, “A law and order faction. All that’s happened would point to the need for more security measures.”

“You have a devious mind, Quinn.”

“Humans can be devious. We’ve endured leaders that create a crisis in order to benefit from it. Fear is a great marketing devise.”

Barry pondered that before responding, “Someone manufactured this problem so they could benefit from the solution.”

“Probably multiple benefits,” Quinn pointed out. “One of them would be to scare us off. Another would be increased security; that would be a financial windfall to somebody. A third would be from the equation that more security equals less freedom. Someone would gain greater control of something.”

“That would assume an elaborate conspiracy.”

“I know,” Quinn said with a grimace. “Look to those who scream the loudest to do something about the mess but will not be interested in who did it. Also, follow the money.”

Pax said, “That missile was placed and left lying doggo. It would be prudent to check how they managed to pull that off. There’s got to be sensors that should have made placing a missile impossible.”

Barry grunted again but said nothing.

They landed without further incident and hurried out the aft ramp. A security detail of six armored soldiers met them.

The landing pad was in front of a long one-storey building with a rounded roof. A spire to the side held antennae of various configurations. Behind the building was the conference center, a sprawling complex fronting a long lake. Broadleaf trees and gardens gently surrounded the acreage.

Pax and River headed for the tree-line, taking one of the equipment bags. Moss took the other and walked with Quinn and Barry to greet the soldiers.

They came to attention. Barry told them, “I need the sensor suite locked down and the base commander available in ten minutes.”

“Yes, Guardian,” one barked, and the group jogged off.

As they made their way to the base commander’s office, Quinn told Barry, “Pax and River are not finding anything in the woods. They are extending their search, but it looks like the ambushes are over.”

“We still need to review the sensor logs,” Barry said. “It was their responsibility to ensure local space, and they didn’t. We need to know how, when, and who spoofed the sensor feeds.”

The sensor logs showed nothing, and Barry ordered a forensic computer team to examine the logs. Pax and River completed the reconnaissance of the surrounding landscape and, finding nothing, returned to base. Barry released the shuttle to transport the scientists to the convention complex. Once that was complete, the Blue Dragon moved to a commercial space station to off-load its cargo and hire a local firm to market their goods.

After midnight local time, the team retired to the convention complex, leaving the Guardians to deal with the local authorities.

Quinn’s tactical mind was still buzzing with threat assessments, but he decided they were probably safe while at the convention. It would be too great a risk to the sponsors of the attacks to attempt something here. Too many things could go wrong for them, for one; for another, it would be too risky to field an attacking force in the capital. Even so, he was sure some kind of action would occur – a media attack, a honey-pot trap for a scientist, or some other kind of embarrassment. He would deal with that in the morning.

For now, the team worked out a watch schedule to patrol the area where the scientists were housed.