War To The Infinite

[shaqui]

I have text extracts and notes for an incomplete 'multiverse' (what you guys here seem to call cross-overs) novel called 'War To The Infinite', written around 1996, which intertwined Captain Scarlet, Thunderbirds, Joe 90, The Secret Service and Terrahawks. I thought the Captain Scarlet sections may be of interest to you...

The crux of events seems to be the 'Atomic War of 2028', as mentioned in TV Century 21.

This is from Part Four (of four parts):

Text Extract 1
Cydonia Region, Planet Mars. AD2030
The time had come.
Out of the red dust formed a new complex, as shining and enigmatic as the first, some cycles in the past. This was the solar outpost of the Mey’Staa Onns, or in their own ancient language, “they who are beyond substance”.
In the distant past, the Mey’Staa Onns had passed beyond physical form, beyond matter. Though for reasons unto themselves they retained a mastery over both.
Every lunar cycle of the third planet, which they were watching, a physical manifestation would appear. To check the presence of mankind and to make their own presence known. After a while the complex would return to the dust from which it came.
Now it was observing with senses beyond physical limit. Checking that mankind was still growing, still learning. Still making mistakes. Even the Mey’Staa Onns had once made mistakes, in their infancy. Was that not what growing was about?
This time, mankind had established a toehold on this world. A fragile step in their exploration of the universe. Close, but not close enough, to warrant contact. Maybe next cycle, or the one after.

(Notes indicate a lunar cycle is 19 years, so two lunar cycles time would be in 2068)


Text Extract 2
Cydonia Region, Planet Mars. AD2030
Four humans remained on the red world.
The rest had departed for the third world which was in the throes of war. This was expected. This had been anticipated.
But something was wrong.
The war had stopped. A pause, a juncture. Peace had unexpectedly settled.
The Mey’Staa Onns briefly passed outside the flow of time to confirm what they already knew to be true.
The war should - must - go on.


Notes 1
The Mysterons have found something in the genetic data from the four men that suggests alien intervention in the evolution of humanity, and recently too. Scans indicate the recent departure of craft of Guk origin and the conclusion is obvious, and terrible. It is further worsened by the approach of an earth craft. The men are being rescued. But this is wrong too. Time has been altered - the war that marooned them has ended five years too early. The Mysterons must intervene.


Text Extract 3
Cydonia Region, Planet Mars. AD2030
Turner and Farrell stepped from the gossamer transport to stand in the midst of the ethereal complex. The orb shimmered to dust behind them and impulsively they edged forward.
“It’s fantastic. Beautiful.” Farrell whispered through the helmet-com.
Even Turner’s cynicism was fading into awe, “I still don’t like any of this, but you’re not wrong. Hope they’re as friendly as they are... mysterious.”
There were no doors, windows or waiting aliens. A ghost city in every sense. Turner touched a shimmering wall, only to see his hand pass through as it had done the transport. Together the two men walked on into a bewildering array of light and emotion, a feeling they were no longer alone.
“Welcome, Earthmen.” A deep, resonating timbre, “This is the voice of the Mey’Staa Onns.”
The men froze, until Turner finally found his own voice. “Where are you?”
“We exist everywhere yet nowhere. This is but a facet, an aspect.”
Farrell smiled, wondering if they even noticed. He glanced at Turner, “Mysterons, did he say?”
“Something like that.” Turner raised his voice, “We’re marooned, with little food or water. We need them to live. Until we’re rescued.”
“Replenishment is not possible” The Mey’Staa Onns voice replied, “We have no need.”
Turner slumped, “Then we’re as good as dead. All of us.”
The Mey’Staa Onns knew instantly what they had to do. To survive. To help the four help them.
“Death is inevitable.” The voice boomed in their minds, “But a means to an end.”
The force of all that was Mey’Staa Onn was focussed briefly on Turner and Farrell. In an instant, they felt the ecstacy of omnipotence. Then the drain of entropy.
Their corpses slumped to the ground.
“Now we begin.”

Turner was first.
His last thought was of how treacherous the alien Mysterons were. A hope. A betrayal. Then murder.
Only he was not dead. Or was he? His corpse lay at his feet. As did Farrell’s.
The Mysterons answered his question before he had thought it, “You have been recreated. It is a means to survive. Your needs are no more.”
True, his hunger had gone. He felt good.
Light spun across Farrell’s remains. Green incandescent rings. Then he too was standing beside him. Without the need for words, The Mysterons told them what they wanted in return...
Turner drew his pistol, as did Farrell.
“We know what we must do.”

“They’re back!”
Zadov came running at Lessner’s call. The gossamer transport glided swiftly up to the camp. Turner and Farrell disembarked and it was gone. Questions came by the dozen, but Turner simply held up a hand and beckoned them inside.
“C’mon, guys!” Lessner could not wait, “Who are they? What do they want? This is killing us.”
As one, the two men levelled their pistols.
“Is this some joke, yes?” Zadov ventured.
Two fingers pulled two triggers simultaneously. Two bodies jerked and crumpled. Twin rings of green light flooded the room. Two new reconstructions materialised. It took only seconds.
“This is the voice of the Mey’Staa Onns.” Their new masters began, “We have given you life that you may serve us. Know what we know, and decide.”
The door to the future was opened, and they entered destiny.

“The decision is yours.”
Reality reclaimed the four and they were back in the dome. The Mey’Staa Onns, or Mysterons as they had come to call them, had left no doubt as to why they had been chosen. But the ultimate choice was theirs. The vision was compelling, but not wholly persuasive.
“I’m not entirely sure I trust these Mysterons,” Farrell began, “They kill us, then bring us back to life for some alien cause.”
He was aware, as all of them were now, that the Mysterons were listening in.
“You could not survive otherwise. As part of us, you draw energy from Existence itself.”
“And the measure of our gratitude,” Zadov replied, ever one to spot a price, “Is alligence to your cause?”
“It may of missed your attention, but we are stuck here.” Lessner added.
“Now you share our form, we can transport you. What we did was as inevitable as your end would have been.”
“So no arm bending?” Turner asked, “No blackmail? We have a free choice?”
“We do not expect or require gratitude. You know our word is our truth.”
An alien truth, Turner pondered, then realised the Mysterons were as privy to his thoughts as his words.
“Truth is universal.”
“Try telling that to some of the governments on Earth,” Zadov retorted.
They thought and discussed hard. Zadov, Lessner and Farrell looked to Turner for guidance.
“You’re the chief,” Farrell said, “We’ve always trusted your judgement.”
The buck had been passed. For all their mysteriousness, the aliens seemed kosher. He remembered the vision.
“I say we go along with them.”
There was an immediate reaction, but Turner quietened them, “We get to go back to Earth. There may be a war on, but it’s home.”
“A war we’re expected to continue.” Lessner reminded him, “Or make sure doesn’t end.”
More silence. Turner stood, “Well, I’m going.”
“All go. Or none.” More absolutes.
Zadov stood beside Turner, “I go too.”
Farrell looked at Lessner, “Count us in then.”
They looked expectantly at the ceiling.
“You know what you must do.”
“Don’t rub it in,” Turner growled as they dissolved into the past.


Notes 2
The Mysterons contact Turner’s group as they track the approach of rescue from Earth. It asks them to trust in their actions and shows them what they can understand of the ‘wrong in time’. It is a difficult decision, but Turner feels that the Mysterons could have just let them die. They eventually agree, and are transported back...

Earth, 2028.
...to Earth over a year ago to when they first left their families for Mars...

[shaqui]

The epilogue of this is very interesting, showing a different take on the events seen at the beginning of 'The Mysterons':

Epilogue.
Cydonia Region, Planet Mars. AD2068

The Martian twilight made the planet seem more ominous and foreboding than usual. More so, because now strange signals were indicating that there may be other life here.
A Martian Exploration Vehicle rolled over the dimly lit surface, its three man crew backed up by two more in the orbiting main body of a Zero X class ship. It was the sole extent of the mission to find out what. A mission that so far seemed less than successful.
The war had put space exploration back a good few decades. Kahra was only now being reconsidered as an outpost again for the first time in forty years. Even in a peace that had lasted over three decades, the world was still recovering. But it was a time of optimism, of hope. Resources were becoming scarce though. There was nothing like the greed and excess of war to use them up quickly. Ingenuity was winning through. Necessity was proving to be the mother of a lot of naturally powered inventions.
Hence the mission. Earth could ill afford the expense of such an endeavour, but the chance to look over Mars for more resources and the possibility of friendly extra-terrestial contact could not be ignored.
But at the back of the minds of some, the possibility that this could be another hostile could not be ignored either.
In the control cabin, Lieutenant Dean and Navigator Conway of the World Space Agency were not alone. No explanation had been given for his inclusion on the mission, and the need-to-know policy excluded the two astronauts from all but the most cursory of briefs.
“Well, Captain Black,” Dean commented to the man in the uniform of the Spectrum security organisation, as the most recent sensor sweep results flashed up on his control display, “The end of our patrol and still nothing to report.”
They had been on surface for close to forty eight hours, the full extent of the MEV’s mission parameter. Black was a taciturn man, of little words and seeming motive. He rarely started conversation or joined in the banter of Dean and Conway. Like his words, he did not approve of wasting time either. The MEV had started to scale an incline.
“Those signals we monitored at Spectrum must have come from somewhere. We’ll see what’s over this ridge,” he decided, “Then we’ll return to Earth.” Simple. Decisive. Black returned to his distant, unfathomable thoughts. Neither of the other men argued.
There was a faint haze over the slope. For a moment, Dean thought it the fading Martian sunset. As the MEV crept nearer the cause was more evident. Pure white though diffused light, tinged with prismatic rainbows.
“Will you take a look at that!” Dean exclaimed as it came into view.
Whatever it was did not register on any of the scopes, but the communications post now screamed silent but intense activity. To the eyes of the three men it resembled a small city, lit from within as if made from frosted glass. A gem in the rusty Martian tundra.
“Cut motors. Maintain radio silence!” Black hissed urgently. Conway swung back to comply.
Although seeming carved of solid light, as beautiful and immovable as ice, there was a hint of activity around the city. Turret-like, banks of interlinked tubes was swiveling in their direction. If they were not weapons, they were doing a first class impression of them.
As if it needed saying, Black noted, “We’ve been spotted.”
The turrets were beginning to bear on them. So that was why Spectrum are involved, Dean thought, they were expecting trouble.
But Black was not. He had lost both parents in the war, so early in his life he could not remember either of them. A whole series of events in his life had made him stern but peace-loving. It was entirely possible the weapons were purely defensive. Heaven knew Spectrum - armed to the teeth - was a peace-keeping force for the world. Dean, a man who was metaphorically looking down the barrel of an alien gun, was itching to get the first strike in.
Kill or be killed.

Across the valley, the Mey’Staa Onns viewed their visitors. Two more Earth Lunar cycles had elapsed since their last visit. Their predictions had proven correct - the war was over and humanity was once again reaching for the stars. But the seeming success was marred. Even before their scanning devices had come to bear, they knew. Energies which could either lift the pattern off a butterfly’s wings or crack a planet like an egg were playing over the humans.
They had failed. Turner’s decision two decades ago had robbed them of victory and humanity of freedom of choice.
The alien influence was still there. Tracking back through their metabolic chronology, it detected the altered ecto-chromosomic programme. Like a disease it had been driven deeper and harder to counteract. Across the divide of space, there was no way to tell who was affected. It may be only the merest percentage, but it still posed a threat.

Black looked at Dean, understanding his fear. He tried to think of the best way to defuse the situation.
Evil!
Time decelerated in Black’s mind. As if in slow motion, Dean swung to him for orders.
They are evil!
Who? Black asked the subconscious accuser.
The aliens! The city! They would destroy us!
Confused, Black struggled with his subconsciousness. With his conscience.
In his mind’s eye, it took on a form. Humanoid. Female. Clad in white, like an angel. Beautiful.
Would such beauty lie?
They would destroy you!
Time righted itself.
“They’re obviously hostile... “ Dean told him.
Was it that obvious? Black, a man who had been under threat and under fire many times, tried to step back from the situation for just a moment. Training and experience told him to wait until the opponent fired first. Instinct - at least he assumed it to be instinct - told him to fire first.
Kill or be killed.
Fate hung in the balance. Black wondered what his father, a man he had never known, would do.
Both Dean and Conway had families. Children. He did not relish either growing up fatherless as he had done.
“Alright, Lieutenant,” he told Dean, “Let them have it.”
Deep inside him, the programme screamed in silent delight.

Elsewhere, the Mey’Staa Onns knew their complex had ceased to exist. A merest facet, but the loss of humanity’s innocence hurt them far more. If only...
All was not lost. As the retrometabolistic energies set about constructing a new complex, strategies were being devised.
The human leading the mission was the biological child of Turner, the one who had nearly but not quite completed their earlier mission. Humans might call it poetic, but he would be ideal to carry out their plan.
The alien programme was in all probability alerted to the Mey’Staa Onns from their last endeavour. It would have coalesced in those protected by the humans own social, economic and political structure - their leaders and the military. The younger Turner was part of that sanctum, had working knowledge of its workings. And how to get through it.
Gain access to suspects. Determine those infected. Eradicate those who were and leave the rest to carry on.
He was also infected by the programme.
The Mey’Staa Onn energies once again focused on him, removing the genetic blight for analysis whilst enhancing him to become a willing tool, a finger on the trigger that would hopefully remove the threat for once and for all.
The complex once again stood on the surface of Mars. Nearby, two worried humans and a being born out of evolutionary necessity pondered on their respective futures.
One final action was required before Black returned to Earth. A psychological gambit.
They would let the whole of Earth know.
It would induce fear in all, even the innocent, but it would be those affected by the programme who would move the most. Give away their positions. Betray their strategies.
“We are peaceful beings, and you have tried to destroy us,” they began, “But you cannot succeed, for we have discovered the secret of reversing matter.”

“This is the voice of the Mey’Staa Onns. We know you can hear us, Earthmen...”


The War Was Just Beginning.


End

[Captain Indigo]

Have you ever thought about completing this, Shaqui? I'm sure you've noticed by now that most of us have at least followed some of the other series, and Chris has a number of multiverse stories on the site. I'd love to see it finished.