Empire Reborn (Taran Empire Saga Book 1): A Cadicle Space Opera

by A. K. DuBoff

  The life-extending therapy was one of many technologies the Aesir had shared with Wil five years ago in an Archive of their collected knowledge—a gesture of goodwill for improving relations between the branches of Tarans. Wil had held many lengthy discussions with Dahl about how best to share the technologies with the rest of Tarans, but there were significant implications to making such things available to the general public. He hated the pressure of it, literally deciding if something lifesaving on the surface might ultimately do more harm than good. Dahl, in his frustrating ancient-mystic ways, had told Wil ‘he’d know what to do when the time was right’. As if Wil had any clue what that meant. He kept waiting for a grand epiphany, but none had come yet.

  So, Wil had held onto the information contained in the Archive within his trusted circle, weighing what to do with it. The most frustrating part was that Wil was certain the Aesir had given him the Archive as a test—much in the way they’d tested him as a young man when he’d gazed into the nexus. They were crafty like that, always gauging and studying. He had no idea what they hoped to see, or if there even was a ‘correct answer’. Stalling his participation in their game remained the best option for now.

  Even so, he couldn’t avoid contact completely. The Aesir knew too much and had such valuable insights that he found himself turning to them whenever he felt stuck. And now, with this transdimensional alien threat on the horizon, he needed their opinion more than ever before.

  Wil brought up his backdoor communication protocol to connect directly with Dahl, established after the Priesthood’s fall.

  The secure subspace link connected after twenty seconds. Dahl smiled serenely at Wil from the holoprojection above his desk. “Hello. I thought you might reach out.”

  “Hi, Dahl. Yes, it’s been quite a week.” Wil inclined his head in respectful greeting.

  “A great test is coming. We have felt it.”

  “This is what Jason saw, isn’t it?”

  Dahl nodded. “The truth of the nexus is always revealed in due time.”

  “Can you tell me anything about these beings beyond the Rift?”

  “No more than what I have already shared about the treaty, I’m afraid. That conflict predates even us.”

  Wil smiled. “We found the hardcopy.”

  “You did?” Dahl’s eyes widened in a rare show of surprise.

  “That Cadicle statue in the Sanctuary? It was sitting right on top of the thing.”

  The old Oracle chuckled—a strange sound, coming from him. “I should have known.”

  “It didn’t give us a lot, aside from confirmation that the Gate tech is the point of conflict. We’re trying to figure out why.”

  “I cannot offer any more insight.”

  “I know. That’s not why I called,” Wil said. “Please forgive what may seem like a strange question, but how do the Aesir handle power generation? Do you use PEMs like other Tarans?”

  Dahl paused in consideration for a moment, tilting his head slightly as he studied Wil. “We do. It is the most efficient power system known to us.”

  “That introduces an interesting logistical question. MPS provides all of the PEMs for the colonized Taran worlds. Do you have a means of replicating their process?”

  “We took a large number of PEMs with us when the Aesir originally broke from the Empire.”

  “But your numbers were in the thousands then, right? Now, with a hundred million, surely your power demands have grown beyond the original capacity—not to mention system failures.”

  Dahl nodded. “Yes, we have needed more to support our expansion. While we have reverse-engineered our equipment that interfaces with the PEMs, so we can manufacture replacement parts, we still acquire the modules themselves from dealers within the Empire when the needs arise.”

  The answer shocked Wil more than he was expecting. “So, with all of your advanced tech, you still rely on MPS for your power cores?”

  “In short, yes.”

  “Because it’s easier that way, or because you’ve been unable to replicate the PEMs?”

  The Oracle seemed reluctant to answer him. “We have theoretical models for how the PEMs operate, but we have been unable to produce a module that is as efficient or stable as the MPS versions.”

  “So, they really do have proprietary tech.”

  “We’ve studied them. The issue is not simply the design, but also the materials. The voydite crystals are the only thing we are aware of with the capability to contain a stable connection to a pocket universe as a perpetual energy source. Everything else we’ve tried either breaks down quickly or is unable to reliably channel the flow of energy.”

  “All right. So why don’t you get your own voydite?”

  “We haven’t found any. To our knowledge, Monsari has complete control of the sole source of the crystals.”

  Wil’s heart sank. “And they’ve been working that mine since before the Aesir broke from the Priesthood? A millennium, or more.”

  “Correct.”

  “Fok.” The curse slipped out involuntarily, and he gave Dahl an apologetic look. “In your estimation, is their supply finite?”

  “I have no direct knowledge to inform such an evaluation.”

  “Humor me.”

  “Given that we, with all of our knowledge and travels, have not come across any other voydite veins, I can only assume that their creation was under a set of very specific, and I dare say lucky, circumstances. Such rare conditions are in an isolated area. So yes, I would expect the supply to be limited.”

  “And the fact that it’s lasted this long—”

  “Is, frankly, astonishing.”

  It was the absolute worst answer imaginable but also the one that made the most sense. No wonder MPS would be hiring crews to salvage ship wreckage—the old PEMs contained voydite for them to recycle. But there was only so much scrap to be found.

  Once the voydite deposit is fully depleted… Wil breathed out between his teeth. “Thank you, Dahl. I appreciate your candor.”

  “You, however, are not being as forthright, as usual.”

  “I would like to conclude my investigation before I raise unnecessary alarm.”

  “Very well. We trust your judgment, Cadicle.”

  The title still sounded strange to Wil’s ears, like talking about himself in the third person. “I’ll be in touch when I have anything concrete,” he said. “And please, if you find out more about these beings coming through the Rift, I hope you’ll share.”

  “Tarans are not as divided as they once were. If this is what we fear it might be, our continued distance will not benefit anyone.”

  That was as close a statement of ‘we have your back’ as Wil was likely to get. “Thank you. We’ll talk soon.”

  Dahl bowed his head and ended the comm link.

  Wil wilted into his chair. We are so foked if Monsari is running out of voydite.

  It might be the single most destructive piece of information in the entire Taran sphere—if it was true. He had to verify the claims.

  There was one person on Tararia always at the top of his list for vetting sensitive information. He made the call.

  “Hey, Dad,” Wil greeted as soon as his father’s face appeared on the screen. “This is going to seem out of nowhere, but have you heard about MPS having any… issues?”

  “Hi to you, too.” Cris smiled and then shook his head. “I can’t say I’ve heard anything about MPS, no.”

  Wil frowned. “It was worth a shot. Sorry to bother you.”

  “Wait, hold on. You can’t just call me up, drop a question like that, and not explain.”

  “It might be nothing.”

  “Weren’t we just talking about your hunches?”

  Wil cracked a smile. “Fair point. Are you alone?”

  “I can be. Hold on.”

  Wil waited while his father found a private place to talk. When Cris was secure in a conference room, Wil continued, “We’re still looking into the Andvari. They were wo
rking for an MPS subsidiary, doing salvage, and I can’t get a clear answer about what they were looking for. I mean, MPS doesn’t deal with ship salvage.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “The evidence seems to be pointing toward MPS ordering the salvage of old cores to get the voydite.”

  “That’s, uh… a lot of work.” Cris frowned.

  “Yes, that was my thought, too. But there are some rather worrying implications if that type of salvage has become appealing.”

  “Quite an understatement.”

  Wil nodded. “So, I’m not sure. All I know is something isn’t adding up.”

  Cris’ brow furrowed in concentration. “My father talked a little about MPS, before my parents handed me off full-time to the tutors when they realized I couldn’t care less. But I was listening. What was made very clear is that the single most valuable thing MPS has is its process for turning voydite crystals into the nanotube shell structure for PEMs. That and, well, the voydite crystals themselves. Funny how businesses flourish when they have a monopoly on raw materials, hmm?”

  “Do you know where they mine the crystals?”

  “Haven’t a clue. If everyone knew, it wouldn’t be much of a secret.”

  That was sounding an awful lot like what Dahl had said. “So, one location?”

  “I don’t know, honestly.”

  Wil asked the difficult question. “Do you think it’s possible they might be running out?”

  His father laughed once then quickly turned serious. “If they really do only have one mining location…”

  “Surely, they’ve developed a lab process for growing more of the crystals, though. They couldn’t have just been working with a single natural supply all of this time. That would be— I can’t imagine how they could have gotten this far if that was the case.”

  “Yeah, I…” None of the humor remained in his father’s face. “Wil, if there’s even a hint of truth to this, it is an issue on a scale we’ve never faced. And that’s saying something. I mean, PEMs are critical to almost every aspect of Taran life. Transportation, planetary shields, food production. Yeah, the PEMs don’t fail too often, but if we can’t make new ones, we can’t expand, and we can’t replace them. We’d stall out.”

  “With the new colonization efforts that are underway now—”

  “We’ve been counting on an unrestricted supply of power cores, able to scale as the Empire grows. MPS has never indicated that would be an issue.”

  “They couldn’t. It would be the end of them.”

  “Could they really have been faking their ability to deliver?”

  “You would know more about that than me.”

  His father took an unsteady breath. “I can’t say I’ve been looking for any signs of them failing. I can dig around. See if anything jumps out, knowing what to look for.”

  “Obviously, keep it very contained. If this is actually happening, it’ll—”

  “Be catastrophic.”

  “I was going to say, ‘unleash a foking shitestorm’, but yes.”

  “Let’s keep level heads,” Cris said. “It might not be anything remotely so grim.”

  “I hope not.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Wil’s growing pile of concerns had made for a poor night of sleep. Nonetheless, he was forging ahead with his investigation. Wil was midway through a review of MPS’ publicly available annual reports when Michael rushed into his office.

  “Something is happening,” Michael announced without preamble.

  Wil minimized the work on his desktop and turned his full attention to his friend. Though Michael was often straightforward with his communications, he rarely barged in—and never without urgent reason. “What and where?”

  “It might be connected to the other business near the Rift,” Michael explained. “Alkeer Station is reporting strange activity in their vicinity.”

  “Strange how?”

  “Erm, the best way to describe it might be ‘spatial ripples’. See for yourself.” Michael swiped information from his handheld to Wil’s desktop, and it popped up on the holoprojector.

  The information was, indeed, odd and difficult to classify—much like everything related to the alien contact through the Rift. There was an array of rolling spatial distortions heading toward the Alkeer Station, one of the more remote TSS outposts. The ‘waves’, as Wil saw fitting to call them, appeared to originate at the Rift and then flow toward Alkeer. There wasn’t any consistency to it, and any given wave didn’t form a continuous line. However, looking at the composite image Michael had displayed, showing all of the information recorded within the past three hours, a defined path was beginning to form between the two locations.

  Wil frowned at the holodisplay. “Agreed, there’s definitely something strange going on, and it does seem to be connected to the Rift. The relative distance to Alkeer is far greater than to the site where the Andvari was attacked. So, given that the timing and placement of the spatial distortions exceeds lightspeed transit, it means there’s a transdimensional component to whatever is going on.”

  “I haven’t been able to get the image out of my head of that leviathan wrapped around the ship,” Michael said, concern tinging his voice.

  Wil studied the composite image of activity, seeing where his friend was going with the observation. When he let his vision go fuzzy, the spatial distortion points were reminiscent of the curves where huge tentacles could be reaching across space from the Rift toward the station. No, the scale of that… He dismissed the thought. “These entities are no doubt large, but this would be absurd! We’re talking dozens of lightyears in span here.”

  “It doesn’t have to be one of them. Ants make bridges by linking together. Gophers carve tunnels. This could just be a bridge or super-highway.”

  “Not unlike what the Bakzen did with the Rift’s expansion,” Wil realized.

  “Obviously, this is different, but…”

  Wil took a moment to collect his thoughts. They’d strongly suspected that the event with the Andvari was just the beginning and that the beings would make their presence known again on a larger scale. Based on the limited information at their disposal, they had been working on preparations for that inevitable contact. However, they weren’t nearly as far along in that process as he would have liked. The problem was that they simply had insufficient information to make informed decisions. Every new encounter would give them greater insight, but that meant going into each of those engagements at an extreme disadvantage. No matter how he looked at it, they had no choice but to face the entities head-on.

  “Okay, we’ll go talk with them,” he decided.

  “Talk how? It’s unclear if there’s anyone there.”

  “There’s some kind of presence,” Wil insisted. “I have no doubt that someone—or, more appropriately, something—is watching and listening to everything we’re doing.”

  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Michael agreed. “The Andvari’s crew destroyed their own ship. Based on everything we know, these beings just mess with people’s heads.”

  “That’s my thought.”

  “This whole thing is crazy, for the record.”

  “It is, but we play the hand we’re dealt.” Wil stood up.

  “Your pep-talks are normally more eloquent than that,” Michael quipped.

  “I’m saving my creative energy for convincing these beings that this is all an unfortunate misunderstanding. The Gatekeepers listened to us and were willing to keep the peace, so let’s hope these others respond in kind.”

  “Except, the Gatekeepers said that the ‘others’ wouldn’t be so forgiving. So, if these are those others…”

  “The other conflict was a long time ago. Things change.”

  “Let us hope. Be safe,” Michael said. He hesitated, seemingly on the verge of saying something else, then left the office.

  Wil could guess at what he might have said, but the two of them had been through too much for the words to need to
be spoken aloud. It was a dangerous mission; they both knew it. But they would fight for freedom to the end, and there was no point in admitting early defeat by saying goodbye.

  They needed to depart for Alkeer as soon as possible, but certain preparations were required. Wil called Saera and the Lead Engineer to his office to coordinate.

  “It’s go-time,” he said when both had arrived, waiting in front of his desk.

  “For what?” Saera asked.

  He directed her attention to the image on the holoprojector.

  Rowan, the Lead Engineer, reacted first. “Fok! What is that?” Not the most professional response, but Wil couldn’t blame him. The stocky man’s face had flushed up to his hairline, dark eyes wide.

  “It would seem the aliens are making their grand entrance after the prelude.”

  Saera groaned. “Naturally.”

  “How is that imaging solution coming?” Wil asked.

  “We’re not finished yet,” Rowan replied. “It sounds a lot easier to do than it is in actuality. The way that the Andvari pulled off that capture wouldn’t be safe for the people on the station. I mean, they basically produced a bomb blast. To do this in a controlled fashion, we—”

  Wil held up his hand to stop the rambling. I should have been working on it myself. He respected the TSS’ engineers, but it was a point of fact that he could see solutions no one else did. It was why he’d cracked the ‘uncrackable’ code for the independent jump drive, not to mention a dozen other engineering marvels over the course of his career. But time, not intellect, was his limiting factor. “Grab what you need, and we can work on it in transit.”

  Rowan paled slightly at the prospect of heading toward the enemy, but he nodded. “On it, sir.” He ran off to finish the preparations.

  “Who are we taking?” Saera asked once they were alone.

  “I’ll go with Curtis and Jason.”

  She frowned. “I’m not staying behind.”

  “Saera, the High Commander and Lead Agent shouldn’t both go. Not this time.” He left the subtext unspoken.

  He expected her to fight him, but instead she nodded. “Are you sure you only want two Seconds?”