The Dry Earth (Book 2): The Nexus

by Orion, W. J.

  The last vessel was a joke. A geometric children’s top the size of a skyscraper, made of metal, ceramics, plastics, and other things she couldn’t fathom the make of, hung in front of the wormhole, dwarfing the other four, and dwarfed itself by the hole in time and space at its back. It didn’t seem mobile to her. Seemed stationary. Too purposeful in its location.

  Three sides to the security spire, Trader Joe said to her. Built by the Galon, in their image. You’ll see a lot of threes on the station. They will activate the passage for all of us.

  It’s not active now? I can see through it… to somewhere else.

  That’s just a… just a trick your mind is playing on you. Trying to make sense of something that cannot actually be perceived by the senses you have. Imagine your brain is trying to explain to you what a new color looks like. Wait, watch.

  She heard Trey speaking with the enormous spike hanging in space. What she heard sounded like something between radio static and Gregorian chant that came and went in volume and intensity. Trader Joe translated for her.

  “Nexus security spire, this is Luminous seeking transit.”

  “Luminous this is Archelian Gulf Spire West. Are you at war, or do you bear spoils of war?”

  “No, and no we do not. We are transporting passengers and basic cargo to Nexus. We have a new intelligent species aboard as well. We seek an emergency audience with station authorities or the Interstellar Court.”

  “Unusual,” the spire returned. “An Empire vessel seeking an audience with the court is a strange thing indeed. However, we celebrate the inclusion of new intelligence. Can you elaborate on your request for an audience?”

  “Not now. We require safe passage and the protection of the Nexus. Discretion is paramount.”

  “Transmit your credits and passage will be granted. You will be directed to dock by Nexus flight control.”

  “Thank you. Will we be protected on the other side?”

  “There has been no ship-to-ship aggression in Nexus space in a thousand lunar cycles. Your request will be passed along.”

  “Thank you. Transmitting payment now.”

  Yasmine felt a strange flood of information leave the presence of the ship and stream out to the spire. It reminded her of a strong exhalation, like blowing up a balloon. She knew without translation that it was a string of information confirming their payment. A moment later, in return, the spire space station pulsed a visible wave of energy that dazed her and forced her psychic eyes shut. Even with her senses muted by choice, Yasmine felt the universe clap together in a single crescendo of power that pushed all of her hair to stand on end.

  She opened her senses.

  Where the void had once drained the universe into nothing, a borderless window had appeared. Floating in the middle of space behind the spire and vessels nearby, and at least a mile across, the hole in reality showed through to the Nexus. A piece of the Nexus, at least. A window looking upon the colossal, handmade moon that served as the hub that connected twelve distant points of the galaxy. Floating in the space around the moon on the other side of reality were actual rings that looked like what she’d imagined. These creations too were far larger than anything she could’ve imagined any living thing making. As she watched, she saw ships piercing through them in the space near Nexus, appearing as if erupting from under the surface of the water and into the air of a whole new world.

  She watched as the scaled mollusk ship surged forward and passed through into the orbit of the Nexus. She carefully observed as the three Mulgorod ships reminiscent of military vessels went through one at a time, and then she felt Luminous move forward and then past the spire into the highway through the void.

  She felt no transition when they left the space near Earth, nor when they entered the proximity of the Nexus. A moment later she did feel it as the thrum of power coursed through time and space again, shutting the connection that linked the two ends of the wormhole. All she had to contend with then was the sheer, utter enormity of the Nexus in its entirety.

  As massive as Earth’s moon and orbited by the twelve rings of geostationary wormhole anchors, then again by a large moon all made by living hands, the sheer scale of the place was unthinkable. It had to have a thousand floors, each the size of North America or larger. The amount of life and technology and energy the space station had on it made all of Earth’s accomplishments pale in comparison.

  We’re nothing. We were just arrogant little monkeys killing ourselves on a hunk of rock floating in space.

  “Luminous, this is Nexus Flight Control,” Trader Joe translated for her. “Please navigate to this dock location for berthing.”

  She felt a return flood of information hit the ship.

  “Port Control, we require air locks, not wet locks,” Trey said. “We have air-breathing passengers aboard. A new race that will require assessment and language printing. We were also seeking an audience with Nexus authorities or the Interstellar Court.”

  “Please disregard your prior docking instructions and instead navigate to New Species Assessment. You are reminded that your kind is not welcome to roam the station in your military vehicles. Civilian transports only.”

  “Of course,” Trey replied.

  “Information about obtaining an audience can be relayed to your berthing station. A Nexus Species Assessment team will be dispatched.”

  Luminous glided through the vicinity of the Nexus and slid towards a yawning hole in the side of it that opened into an interior filled with all manner of ships. Like a hive of bees, the Nexus swarmed with life.

  Life humans had never seen before.

  Welcome to the Main Street of the Milky Way, Yasmine.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Hello, I’m Yasmine Whitten

  Trader Joe kept Yasmine’s mind linked with the ship’s sensors as the Luminous and its passengers slid through space into the massive shipyard at the station’s equator. Rectangular with rounded corners, the opening was twice as wide as the wormhole rings floating in space nearby. Ships of a thousand designs in sizes ranging from that of a human car all the way up to the skyscraper-sized dreadnoughts she’d only seen in science fiction movies soared in and out, each moving at the whim of their pilots or helmsman.

  Ships that looked like wood, ships that looked like ice. Ships made of metal, glass, and bone. Tall ships, short ships, narrow and long, as well, soared into and out of the various docking spaces. Luminous—as small as it was when held against the larger ships—earned a wide berth from all vessels coming and going.

  No one dared cross the crabs, even here.

  She felt the thrusters at the end of the tentacles wheel and dance about, guiding Luminous in all three spatial directions as they moved into the gargantuan hole designed to house visiting ships. In every direction, as they pressed deeper into the cavern, she saw more and more ships, and a million lights emanating from not only the station, but from the ships as well. Breathless, she tried in earnest to absorb all the spectacle, and then remember it, but she saw too much to digest and gave up.

  I can’t believe this is always happening. So much activity. There has to be a million people here. I mean, a million… things.

  Closer to a hundred million, Trader Joe explained. Sometimes many, many times that number, depending on what races are passing through. Some are very tiny, and travel in large numbers. The Myrne snails, for example. We saw one of their city-sized craft earlier at the wormhole. They have a class of vessel they call a ‘Star-Nation.’

  That’s a lot of snails. Are they aggressive at all? Do spaceships have salt cannons to fight them?

  Funny, but no. They are peaceful. Takes forever to talk to them, but they’re fascinating when you give them the time.

  Trey guided their squid ship up into a smaller, elevated level of the massive dock designed to house smaller craft. He passed hundreds of air locks with doors that opened into three wedge-shaped sections for the ships inside to land. As they passed, ships their size came and went th
rough the doors. Eventually, where the tunnel narrowed to just twice the width of Luminous, a final door opened for them.

  Trey turned them sideways with the engines at the end of the tentacles and guided them into a barren warehouse-sized room the shape of a triangle. The widest points of the wedge were away from the entrance, and he landed their ship with the nose just feet from the wall. Just above Luminous on that wall was a massive observation window, and through that window she saw tall, strange creatures that looked like the Galon. Tall like a pine tree, with three clear sides, each with an arm and an eye that looked somewhat human, they wore heavy uniformed armor and spun in circles, bringing eye after eye into view, each orb staring hard at their ship.

  They’re worried, aren’t they?

  Crab ships don’t dock like this, he said. Crab ships don’t bring in new, intelligent races. They’ve probably surmised that we are in league with the crab rebellion, and surely that is making them anxious. The enemy of their enemy might not be their friend.

  Should we be worried?

  Yes.

  Luminous ceased its sensory broadcast, and Yasmine snapped back into the reality of her own body. Inside their makeshift crew compartment, everyone looked at her as if she’d missed something or spoken a strange thing aloud.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “We just docked at the universe’s biggest space station, and you slept right through it,” her uncle said.

  The ship shook as a great pressure rushed into the space around it.

  “The air lock is atmosphere-positive,” Trey explained. “As it turns out, a lot of organic life in the galaxy needs an atmosphere that’s nearly identical to Earth’s. Temperature on the station in common places will feel cool, but comfortable. Sixty degrees Fahrenheit. Such commonality across such a wide array of life. Go figure.”

  “Glad I made those scarves,” Bernie said.

  “They’ll be handy,” Trey said. “They’re going to ask us to exit the ship, and before you humans are allowed to interact with anything the air lock and your bodies will undergo about a hundred different kinds of active examination. They’re looking for any danger you or any microorganisms you’re carrying might pose. Viruses, mites, bacteria, yada yada.”

  “Then what?” Michelle asked. “Anal probes?”

  “I think they gave those up a few decades ago,” Trey responded, then laughed. “Actually, they’ll then flood the air lock with nanites that will actively combat anything dangerous. Painless, odorless, and we’ll never know it’s happening.”

  “Slick,” Caleb said. “Or should I say steak?”

  “Then the team of scientists dedicated to new species will join us and ask you to enter a room right over to the left, and in there they’ll map your brains and neural pathways while presenting you with stimulus. It’ll go faster because I’ll do it too, and they can use my knowledge of your language as a foundation.”

  “How long will that take?” Yaz asked.

  “Hour at the most,” Trey said. “I’m opening the door. Head on out and try to relax.”

  Yasmine led the way, without fear. I’m so excited. I’m going to meet more aliens. More… races of the stars. The entire future of Earth, and the human race begins right now.

  She ducked and passed through the room into the rear engineering area they had avoided for the bulk of the journey. They put their crap bucket back there, and from there they poured their waste into…

  Yasmine held her nose and walked past their space potty. She ducked again and closed her eyes against the brighter white light coming from the hangar bay. All her anxiety—all the fear she had carried for years—all the desire to be alone, to never have to suffer the loss of a loved one… all of that had stayed behind somewhere else. She had done the impossible. Not once, not even twice. Yasmine Whitten, just a girl who’d lost it all—lost everyone—had found more. She’d found family; she’d found friends.

  She’d found hope.

  Here, now, she added purpose.

  She strode out onto the hard, metallic floor decorated by more triangle-shaped designs and stood proud. She spun her head and walked to the front of Luminous and waved at the elevated window where the aliens watched her. She waved, then took out her mom’s phone, and took a picture.

  “Hello. I’m Yasmine Whitten. I’m a human, and my friends and family came to change everything.”

  Inside the observation room one of the Galon—a towering one, thicker than the others in the room too—lifted a long arm and mimicked her wave back.

  “Hey, friend,” she whispered to it.

  Yasmine waved again and let the euphoria of the moment wash over her. After the high passed she started taking more pictures, and even some videos.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Make Your Case

  Yasmine kept her eyes open and stared at the podium in the center of the room designed to learn how she and her friends communicated. She wore a strange headset made from an elastic material that Trey called an “intelligent polymer.” The comfortable band wrapped around her forehead and supported a translucent faceplate that hung down to her chin as well as a nest of tubes that attached to various points of the skin on her throat, jaw, and neck. She wore two wristbands that matched the headset. The devices on her head and arms collected data from inside her mind and body as she watched the room display stimulating images and experiences.

  A podium in the center of the triangular room sprayed holographic pictures and videos into the air, accompanied by sounds that were as real as anything she’d ever heard. As time went on, the images coupled with smells to match, and she even tasted scents in the air. Her brain spewed reactions into the system, giving it the raw material to build translations with.

  The machine showed her alien vistas filled with geography and wildlife, then followed it up with images of creatures eating and drinking. Socialization between all manner of foreign life forms followed, and then expressions of complex emotions between those aliens came. All the while, the alien gear she wore with its data collecting tubes read her neurological and physiological responses, gauging reactions, trying to find out how humans felt about things they were exposed to, and eventually, what they thought at the same time.

  The room narrowed down its displays until the experiences become progressively more and more Earthlike and familiar. As each image flashed, Yasmine found herself thinking of the words for everything she saw, and she let her internal dialogue flow. She convinced herself that if she talked to the machine, it would learn faster. When she saw an alien creature running, she thought, running. When she saw water, she thought, water. She also thought, revenge. Justice. Stolen. Thirsty. Hope. So on and so on.

  What felt like an hour later, a door opened on the far side of the room and a floating creature entered. Large as a black trash bag filled with hot air and covered in wispy, fleshy hairs that could’ve been weightless spaghetti, the bizarre, semi-translucent creature moved into the room until it reached the central display device. It bobbed up and down as if it were a buoy adrift on the open sea.

  A sea she’d never seen.

  “Hello,” its gentle voice said. “Greetings. Salutations. Welcome to the Nexus. My name is Jevwell. I am an Irib’dirari, and work for the New Species Assessment team. It is pleasure to introduce you to our unified, plentiful society of the stars.”

  I can’t tell what part of that thing spoke. “You’re a Triumvirate race?” Yasmine said back to it.

  “My species is, yes.”

  “Awesome. My name is Yasmine Whitten. I’m a human from the planet Earth.”

  “We are learning about your world. It is charted, but we know little of it,” the thing named Jevwell said. “We hope to learn more. The more you talk and think, the better we can learn.”

  “Well I never stop thinking. If you want someone to talk forever, hook up Knox or my uncle,” she said with a laugh.

  “Humor. That’s good. Learning humor is crucial.”

  “So… what n
ow?”

  “My team has all of your humans teaching us in rooms just like this. We have completed enough for you to enter the station’s intermediate areas. Common spaces are likely to be confusing to you and the populace of the station that are unaware of your visit to our society. These areas will be kept from you until you learn more. Please use patience.”

  “Okay. When can we get back together? My friends and family and me? And Trey, the crab piloting Luminous, our ship. And Delta too, the other crab.”

  “Before your next meal,” it explained. “And our machine senses your current hunger, so you know that time is short.”

  My stomach is a little rumbly. “Okay. Well, thank you, Jevwell. This has been surprisingly easy so far.”

  “This is a service we provide for interstellar security and prosperity. Your emotional appreciation is not necessary, but it is noted and appreciated.”

  “When can I get some of my food from our ship?”

  “You may exit back into the hangar through the door behind you at any time. Your friends can meet you there whenever, but ideally when they have completed the translator routines required. You are the first to finish. Your mind is particularly gifted as it relates to interfacing. We learned a bounty from you. You will meet with other authorities to assist you shortly.”

  That’s like, the third alien that’s told me my mind is good at weird stuff. “I can’t believe I’m conversing with an alien creature right now. I mean, another alien creature. First crabs, then Trader Joe, now an Irib’dirari.”

  “What is Trader Joe?” it asked her.

  “Um… I don’t know if I’m supposed to say, actually. You should ask him. He’s either still in the hangar or in one of your rooms.”

  “He is a Beru’dawn,” Jevwell said. “Another of the Triumvirate. Your thoughts revealed the truth to us via the translator system. I apologize for the intrusion into your privacy. This translation routine is designed to pierce through misdirection or falsehoods. I did not want you to feel lied to.”