by M. D. Cooper
The mass conformity contained four great fluid orbs and three dead orbs, in addition to a host of smaller, frozen masses. The mass conformity’s light orb shone more brightly on the upper spectrums, its great warmth rendering it nearly the color of the light blue spots on Krai’s limbs.
Energy from the light orb was intense enough to melt methane on several minor bodies orbiting the great fluid orbs. Though the X’Liy’s oceanshapers were more than capable of creating habitable homes where the universe had not created any on its own, this mass conformity was under consideration for capsule migration.
Krai remembered when je was young, eager to leave kes capsule on kes people’s home orb, to craft a new future for keself far from home.
Now, looking back, those thoughts seemed so bottom-bound, they were merely trading one ocean for another. Thankfully, je had taken the opportunity to join the Far Patrol, taking travelshells like Phrysi deep into the orb-speckled darkness to search out new oceans and new vistas.
Despite the fact that many X’Liy preferred a solitary life, there was a frequent shortage of ones eager to seek out new oceans and patrol the dark spaces. When Krai had passed the aptitude evaluations, the Far Patrol had sought kes out, offering generous compensation for kes service.
Many great cycles had passed since that time, and Krai couldn’t imagine a life led in a small segment of ocean, limited to whatever adventure was available in those pools.
Now I’m in the greatest pool there is, swimming with all the masses and the cosmos ones self.
As je had spent a few thought-cycles considering the past, Phrysi’s eyes had taken in the state of the mass conformity, massaging the knowledge threads until the information was compressed into a range je could absorb optically. The picture was as expected, the greater and lesser orbs all dancing through their courses just as they should be.
It didn’t surprise Krai that there was little of note—there always was.
Je set a course to drop into the mass conformity, setting a route that would allow kes to flow around one of the larger fluid orbs and then around the central light orb, picking up velocity before leaving for the next mass conformity on kes route.
It would behoove a one to do a survey of the third minor orb, the X’Liy considered to keself.
Long limbs began to dance across the control arcs, preparing a pair of probes to deploy and orbit the potential oceanhome. Perhaps if the climate had remained stable enough, it might soon see X’Liy arrive in the hopes of forming a new capsule there.
Krai was halfway through setting the knowledge of the desired current paths into the probes when a spark of unexpected light struck the eyes on Phrysi’s skin.
The flare had come from near one of the dead orbs in proximity to the center of the mass conformity. Je reviewed the mass conformity’s knowledge base, searching for any smaller objects that may have impacted the orb. It would have to be large to be visible from so far out, but nothing in the knowledge pool suggested that any collisions were imminent.
During kes search, the travelshell’s artificial minds had also reviewed the flare, examining the spectral lines. The determination caused Krai to twitch in surprise, three of its ten limbs sliding off the control arcs.
The light had not come from an impact—unless the object that hit the dead world had been comprised of hydrogen and helium. Though no other travelshell was supposed to be in the mass conformity, the Phrysi’s artificial minds were certain that the visible energy was from shell jets—and not insignificant ones.
Then another flare of light came from the distant orb, and the shell’s eyes absorbed more information, the AMs increasing their certainty that it was a shell’s jets.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Krai shifted course and prepared the probes for another type of reconassiance. Je would bring the Phrysi around toward the dead orb in a gradual arc in order to see who was in the mass conformity, and what they were doing near a dead orb, of all places.
But a one must stay out of sight. If there is someone here who is not supposed to be, there is no telling what dark pools je are delving into.
CHAPTER 3 - TANIS
STELLAR DATE: 12.22.8959 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Hegemon’s Court, High Terra, Earth
REGION: AoS Independent Zone, Sol System, Alliance of Sentients
Tanis forced herself to maintain a calm expression as she listened to the ASN’s chief ambassador—a tall woman named Yuda, whose exceptionally blue eyes bore into Tanis’s—grow even more effusive regarding her arguments for access to additional hyper-tech.
They were nearly alone in the Hegemon’s audience chamber, something that was a cross between a court room and a throne room. It reminded Tanis a little bit of where she’d first met Diana, though much less ostentatious.
“…and with picotech, we could drastically increase the pace of reconstruction, completing it within a matter of years, not decades. You have to understand how important that is to us, Hegemon Richards.”
“I do understand,” Tanis said, ignoring Angela’s comment. “But proliferation of hyper-tech is all but guaranteed to ignite a new Orion War. Right now, we need to firmly establish our new galactic peace before we introduce technologies with near-unlimited power.”
“You could black-box it,” Yuda said. “Like you did with the stasis shield tech during the Orion War. We would only use it to rebuild key infrastructure.”
Tanis shook her head. “I’m sorry. Picotech is entirely out of the question. I don’t even have the ability to grant that to you if I wished it. New Canaan’s government has restricted its use entirely.”
“Barring when it’s at their discretion,” the ambassador retorted. “They could make an exception.”
Tanis rose from her seat and walked down the three steps to stand before Yuda. “I’m sorry, Ambassador. They won’t do it. They didn’t even grant me authorization to use it in the reconstruction of Mars 1.”
“Mars 1 is hardly a priority,” Yuda scoffed. “The ASN is—”
“One of the largest and most affluent interstellar nations in the galaxy,” Tanis completed the woman’s statement. “You are more than capable of managing your reconstruction efforts. If you are indeed facing a humanitarian crisis, you can file for aid, but I really have trouble believing there is anything your people are facing that they would be hard-pressed to overcome without hyper-tech.”
The corners of Yuda’s mouth turned down. “That’s easy for you to say. I still wouldn’t be surprised to hear that you’re using picotech to rebuild Mars 1.”
“And we’re just supposed to believe that?” Yuda snorted with disdain. “You’re just hoarding technology, doing the exact thing that caused the last war to start in the first place.”
Tanis drew in a deep breath, stilling her racing thoughts before responding. “New Canaan and its people are under no obligation to share any of their technology—just like you are under no obligation to share any of yours. They have determined that picotech shall not be released as a part of any hyper-tech distribution project.”
“If we could go there,” Yuda didn’t miss a beat before slipping onto a new approach, “appeal to their legislature, I’m sure they’d understand.”
“Do you speak for them? What if we simply jumped there? We have a pretty good idea where it is.”
“You won’t find it,” Tanis replied. “New Canaan has moved.”
Yuda’s ey
ebrows climbed up her forehead. “Moved?”
Tanis nodded. “Yes. It’s not that hard to move stars, you just have to have the will to do it—and the people of New Canaan have that will.”
“Moving stars…just more evidence that you’re hoarding technology.”
Tanis asked Angela privately.
While Angela had rattled off her list, Yuda had grown stone-faced. After a moment of silence at the end, the woman finally shook her head with a disgusted cough as she glanced around at the smattering of people on the periphery of the audience chamber. “If this is how you treat friends to the AoS—”
“Members,” Tanis corrected. “The ASN is a signatory to the treaty and to the articles that define the AoS. Are you suggesting that you’re going to leave because you aren’t getting everything your way? Do you have authorization from your government to do that? Remember, I can ask them and get an answer today—you know, because hundreds of your systems are already on the QuanComm and Trans-Galactic gate networks.”
A figurative crack showed in Yuda’s armor, a literal wince that showed all too clearly she was pushing harder than her governmental directives warranted.
“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll report back that we are still on the same technological trajectory as before.”
“Be sure that you do. I’ll be visiting the ASN before long…I can discuss all of this with your government’s cabinet and see where they stand on things as well.”
“Of course.” Yuda ducked her head, though Tanis could easily make out the angst on the ambassador’s face. “That would be excellent.”
“Good. I’m looking forward to it. Now, I hate to rush off, but I do have to get to Mars for the commencement of the Mars 1 project.”
“Of course,” Ambassador Yuda said with a nod. “I hope to speak to you again soon.”
“And you as well,” Tanis replied before offering her hand.
The two women shook, then turned, each walking in the opposite direction.
Tanis snorted a laugh. She glanced over her shoulder at Lieutenant Travis and Sergeant Coburn. “You two eager to see this thing get underway?”
“Stars, yeah,” Travis replied. “I spent a decade on Mars 1 back in my youth—hit me like a sledgehammer when we heard it went down.”
“I’m right there with you,” Tanis replied. “I loved that place…and Mars, too.”
“A husk?” Tanis supplied as the trio reached the private lift bank and rode it up to the gate deck.
“The bastards were fucking systematic,” Travis grunted. “I can’t believe the Jovians would resort to that level of mass murder.”
“And that we have to make nice with them, now,” Coburn added. “I know none of those people are still alive, but still…it just rankles.”
“The price we pay for our time jump.” Tanis’s voice grew soft as the lift doors closed.
She nodded, thoughts drifting to the lakehouse on New Canaan where she’d spent some of the happiest days of her life, raising her daughters. That was supposed to be the goal; finding peace and quiet, and settling down. Now, no matter what she seemed to do, more and more responsibility kept getting heaped on her shoulders.
Tanis nodded.
The lift doors opened, and the trio stepped out, Travis and Coburn in the lead. They nodded to the pair of Marines guarding the foyer, and in response, the two straightened and saluted Tanis when she exited.
She smiled and returned the gesture.
She wasn’t active duty ISF anymore, but there was no chance she’d ever get the Marines to stop treating her like she was, so she didn’t even try.
I wonder if they even remember that I was never a Marine. Not technically, at least.
Not that it mattered. The ISF Marines weren’t going to change their tune now.
She nodded.
They reached the doors at the far end of the foyer, waiting for still more Marines to salute Tanis, then open the portal. Beyond was a short corridor and then a room dominated by a large ring standing on a pedestal.
Travis and Coburn preceded Tanis into the room, heads turning side to side as they swept the area to ensure it was clear.
Travis shrugged.
A chuckle slipped past Tanis’s lips as she walked toward the ring. “I wish Tangel were here, she could just take us right through this thing, no need for a car.”
Tanis heaved a sigh as the gate vehicle rose through the floor, a small oval with seats for four people inside. The doors behind them closed, a shield snapping into place to protect those outside the space should something catastrophic occur.
The chances of something happening that was destructive enough to need shields was slim—in fact, if something truly terrible did happen, it would take out the entire AoS tower, not just the gate room.
Still, it didn’t hurt to give an appearance of caution, even when the gestures were just that.
The two Marines took their seats in the rear of the vehicle, while Tanis sat in the front, letting Angela t
ake the controls. The pod’s shield came online, protecting the occupants as the gate’s antimatter-powered emitters came to life. It only took a few seconds for the roiling ball of not-space to appear in the center of the ring, a torrent of exotic energy held in place by the gate’s mirrors.
Though it didn’t look like what one would expect, what the gate held in its center was a singularity—one that the pod would touch with the mirror on its prow, stretching the black hole and skirting around the edge in the process. It would take much less than a second to traverse the distance between the gate room on High Terra and the one on Mars…something that still boggled Tanis’s mind, if she let herself think about it.
A countdown starting at five appeared on the forward viewscreen, ticking down until it hit zero just as the pod’s mirror touched the singularity.
The gate room disappeared, instantly replaced by a visual of Mars from roughly four planetary radii.
It was still hard for Tanis to look at the brown and red world, dotted with only a few patches of green near the equator. Once, before the Jovians had bathed the planet in nuclear fire, Mars had been one of humanity’s greatest accomplishments: a world terraformed from a global desert into a lush planet filled with life and abundance.
After the fall of Terra and InnerSol, Mars had lain abandoned and in ruin for over four thousand years, a message to the people of the Inner Stars that the Jovians were not to be trifled with.
“Pretty soon it’s not going to hurt to see this place,” Tanis said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Living for that day, ma’am,” Coburn said.
Tanis nodded in silence, swapping the view back to Mars, where she magnified the feed to show the sixty tugs on the planet’s surface, each one over a half a kilometer long, engines making up for most of the ship’s mass. They were the backstop, should anything happen to the grav boosters attached to the object being lifted back into space.