The Lost Ship of the Tucker Rebellion - Marie Sexton Page 0,15
twentieth century, all right? We’re talking 2287 here. The media was nothing but the mouth of the oligarchy. William Tucker’s entire movement was underground. Deep network, encrypted, dark-cover stuff, right?”
Marit nodded.
“Now, I could spend hours laying out the data, but—”
“Forget it,” Marit said. “Cut to the chase.”
“Okay. There’s good evidence that William Tucker had thousands of followers around the world. Even you know that. And everybody knows he claimed to have a Li’Vin insider who confirmed what we later learned to be true: that the Li’Vin’s true purpose in coming to Earth was to plunder its resources and pull us into a war they’d been fighting with the Arulai for generations. They claimed the Arulai were out to get them but didn’t bother mentioning the Arulai wanted vengeance on them for having ruined their planet the same way they eventually ruined ours.”
Marit waved her hand in an impatient circle, telling him to get on with it. “Yeah, yeah. And Tucker claimed this Li’Vin conspirator knew about an empty but hospitable planet left behind by the Li’Vin, but it was out of reach of our ships, so this partner hid a Li’Vin ship with faster-than-light flight capability for Tucker and his followers to use. Awfully convenient, if you ask me.”
Denver ignored that part. “In his final broadcast, Tucker said he had a dozen ships stashed in different ports all around the world, each one full of would-be colonists. They were scheduled to rendezvous at the Li’Vin ship. He said that by the time the broadcast aired, they’d be en route to their new world. And he said that once they were there, he’d get word back to Earth. But that never happened.”
“Yes, because shortly after that, he and all of his followers were found dead in their various compounds.”
“Sure, that’s what was reported,” Laramie said. Not arguing, thank goodness. His voice was level. “But no bodies were ever produced. And family members of his followers were never given satisfactory answers. Nobody would even say where these compounds supposedly were, let alone how exactly they’d all died.”
“And,” Denver said, “there were reports from at least eight different ports of large, unidentified ships departing in the days preceding the broadcast.”
Laramie pushed Denver’s shoulder, and Denver scooted over so that Laramie could sit next to him on the crate. Laramie copied Denver’s body language, putting his elbows on his knees to lean closer to Marit before continuing. “Not only that, there were reports from all over the world of strange happenings in the sky. They were all explained away as meteor showers or space debris—”
“But others,” Marit interrupted, “including the two of you, apparently, think it was the Li’Vin destroying Tucker’s fleet.”
Denver and Laramie both nodded, but it was Denver who spoke. “Exactly.”
“And you think this—” She gestured at the pod. “—is something jettisoned by one of those ships before it was destroyed?”
“It explains what we found,” Laramie said. “The seeds and the biologicals.”
Denver pointed to the box OPAL was still fiddling with. “We won’t know for sure until we find out what’s on that system log.”
OPAL spoke, as if on cue. “I have accessed the first file.”
“What is it?” Denver asked.
“The flight logbook of Captain William Tucker.”
“A written log?” Denver asked.
“Negative. It is a video file, although a few of the entries have spreadsheets attached as amendments.”
“How many entries?” Laramie asked. “Are they dated?”
“There are two hundred forty-two entries, spanning an eleven-month period in the years 2286 and 2287.”
Denver’s heart sank a bit. “That’s going to take a while to wade through.”
“The entries have been prioritized and categorized by subject. Most are marked low priority, private, and categorized as ‘passengers,’ ‘preparation,’ or ‘personal.’ However, two entries, including the final video log, have been marked high priority, and categorized as ‘for public release.’”
“Sounds like a good place to start,” Laramie said.
They followed OPAL to the kitchen. She slotted one of her eight appendages into the data port of the comm system. A second later, the video screen flickered to life, displaying the smiling face of William Tucker. Denver recognized him from the old Earth videos he’d seen.
“This is Captain William Tucker of the Renegade. Today is the day. After months of planning, our voyage is about to be underway. Twelve ships, all departing from different ports in eight different countries, will soon disembark to rendezvous at the Li’Vin ship, which we’ve dubbed ‘The Legacy.’ My Li’Vin friends assures me the route to the planet has already been programmed into the Legacy’s navigational system. If