by T. R. Harris
“There’s a security monitor on the transmission,” he told Adam. “An alert will go out, but we will be done by the time they can react.”
The screen activated and Lila’s lovely face was looking out at them. The rest of the crew gathered around behind her beaming smiles across the light-years.
“Do you have the codes?” Lila asked without a greeting or emotion.
“Are you all right?” Sherri called out from behind the mutant.
“Where are you?” Copernicus asked.
“Are there any hot women there?” asked Riyad. Everyone looked at him. “Just trying to be different. How’s it going, buddy?”
“I’m okay,” said Adam over Panur’s shoulder.
“Excuse me, Adam, but I need your help again.” Panur grabbed his arm and took over his ATD, and with it, his brain.
“Fuck! Stop doing that!”
“Lila, I’m attaching Adam’s thoughts to this CW link. It contains the transponder codes for the VN-91s. You should be able to extract them.”
“Already done,” said Lila.
“Any progress from your end?” he asked.
“Quantum pairs,” she said cryptically.
Panur nodded. “That would work. Also spinning gravity loops and shifting frequency pulses.”
“I thought of those, too, but I only had the materials aboard to build the quantum generator. We destroyed two VN-91s using the markers.”
“Very good. Now you can destroy the rest. Start with those presenting the most danger.”
“I shall.”
“Where are you?” Copernicus asked again.
“A planet called Vesper,’ Adam answered. “It’s a non-empire world but on the registry.”
“Hang tight,” Sherri said. “We’re coming.”
“That’s not necessary,” Panur said. “We have another way out—”
The screen went dark, as the automated security monitors cut the unauthorized link.
“We have been found out,” said the mutant.
“What did you mean, we have another way out?”
Panur looked around the comm center. “First…I need a screwdriver.”
53
Lila was up from the chair the moment the screen went dark, while the others stood around wondering what happened.
“Hurry,” the mutant said. “I have the codes. But once we start destroying the VN-91s the Klin will notice and launch their assaults. We have to target the ships already in orbit around vulnerable worlds. We will start with Formil.”
Kaylor slipped into the pilot seat. “It will take forty-seven days at full drive to reach Formil. I do not see the need to hurry.”
“We are taking a different path,” said Lila. “Prepare for TD jump.”
“Where to?” said Jym at the Nav station.
“A universe Panur and I are quite familiar with. I have programmed in the coordinates. Please make the jump, Mr. Kaylor.”
When the green glow vanished, the Defiant was in another dimension, or so they were told. Every universe looked alike to the crew, all except Lila. “This is where Panur and I have been for the past two years.”
“Why this place?” asked Sherri, standing near the viewport and looking out at the vast expanse of nothingness.
“The harmonics are very soothing here, although I imagine you cannot feel them.”
“What now?” Riyad asked impatiently. “How is this getting us to Formil any faster?”
“Travel within parallel universes is the same everywhere. Yet even minute changes here can affect distances in other dimensions. We may travel a light-year here, but when we reenter the Milk Way, we could be thousands of light-years from where we left. This has always been true of inter-dimensional travel. The key is knowing how to navigate both universes to affect the quantum leaps we desire.”
Sherri smiled. “And you can do this, of course.”
Lila smiled back. “Of course; I’m a super-mutant.”
“And a very lovely one at that,” said Riyad.
Arieel was beaming with pride.
Lila turned to Kaylor. “Steer one-one-nine, negative four degrees at full drive for fourteen minutes. At that point we will transition back to the Milky Way.”
“And be at Formil?” Arieel asked.
“We will be home.”
“You never said anything about this!” Riyad yelled as he dove for the weapons station.
The Defiant had indeed transitioned back into the Milky Way near Formil—and a thousand miles from the huge black ship in orbit around the planet. They were easily within weapons range, and the VN-91 reacted to their sudden appearance by heating up their defensive laser turrets.
Lila seemed unconcerned by the panic sweeping through the pilothouse.
“Get us out of here!” Sherri yelled to Kaylor.
“Do not,” Lila said to the Belsonian.
“We need time to recharge the jump batteries,” Sherri said to Lila. “In the meantime, we have gravity drive.”
“I need time to plant the quantum particle. There…Kaylor, you may now proceed.”
The Defiant shot forward, with a dozen laser beams streaking after it. Ninety seconds later, they made the jump back to the other universe.
“Observe,” said Lila as she looked out the forward viewport.
The crew saw the same sparkling cloud of debris as before. The VN-91 from Formil was no more.
Riyad stepped up to Lila. He moved two of his fingers between his face and Lila’s. “We need to have better communications,” he scolded. “It would have been nice to know the procedure.”
“It will be more or less the same,” said the mutant. “I was guessing as to the range to the VN-91. Transitioning between universes is more of an art than a science.”
“So, was that close for you?” Riyad asked.
“A little. I can plant the markers at a range of a quarter-light.”
“Well then let’s do that next time.”
Lila turned back to her little metal box and began making adjustments. “That will be possible, except for the ships in transit. Navigating moving intercepts will be much harder, but I have the coordinates.” She looked up and smiled at Riyad’s dark face, darker now from his residual anger. “Please prepare yourself. We are making another run.”
Over a hundred video monitors and telescopes were locked on the VN-91 orbiting the planet Juir. The Juireans were quietly moving in nuclear armed missiles to be used in a last-ditch effort should the huge landing bay doors on the Klin ship open and millions of robots pour out. The planet was sparsely populated by comparison to when the Expansion was at its zenith. Even still, the constant stream of evacuees over the past twenty days was hardly enough to compensate for the millions who would die if the Klin attacked.
That’s why thousands of worried Juireans jumped to their stations when the Klin ship simply disappeared. They reran the video, which only added to their confusion. Had the Klin developed some new warp technology that allowed their behemoths to shift position instantly? Were they preparing for an attack, one from a completely different direction and immune to their nuclear defense?
No answers were forthcoming. The black ship was gone. That was all the Juireans knew for certain.
Frantic CW links came into the office of Overlord Zaxis fe Rendor. The Juirean hesitated to connect the link, until he saw it was from Juir.
“What is it?” the Overlord yelled at the green-haired Guard on the screen. Zaxis was already up to his neck in mystery; what could his people on Juir have to tell him that was so important?
“My Lord, the Klin ship has disappeared!”
Zaxis stopped in his tracks, as did the other six Juireans in his office at that time. The Overlord turned to the screen.
“Repeat!”
“The Klin ship above Juir has disappeared. We have run video. It simply vanished.”
Zaxis looked at the other two Overlords in the room, plus the senior Guards in attendance. He looked at the clock on the
wall.
Twelve standard minutes. Twelve minutes between the ship above Formil disappearing and the one above Juir suffering the same fate.
“Any contact with the Klin?” he asked a Guard in the room.
“None. They could be consolidating for a massive attack.”
“By instantly transporting their largest ships from superior locations above our most vulnerable worlds to…to where, exactly? Contact the other worlds where the VN-91s are already in orbit. I have a feeling you will find the same thing happening there.”
“My Lord,” said a senior Guard commander. “Is this not welcome news? The Klin ships are disappearing. Juir is no longer in danger.”
Zaxis glared at the Guard officer. “It would be welcome news if I could explain how this is happening. Until then, the mystery is the reason for my concern. Remain at alert. There may be more surprises coming.”
The Pleabaen of the Klin was a very busy person. He not only had the politics of the day to contend with, but a galaxy to conquer. As a consequence, he delegated much of the day-to-day routine of managing his varied responsibilities. It also meant his day was regimented, with meetings planned far in advance and to the minute.
And today was the day he would meet Adam Cain and the super-mutant Panur.
Cosnin was anxious for the meeting. He had been aware of the pair of aliens for many years. Mostly the reports had been tragic. But that was back in the day before the Klin took control of their destiny and stopped relying on other races to enforce their will and execute their plans. For his part, Adam Cain had been the instrument of many Klin failures in the past, including the deaths of two of the prior Pleabaens. One creature, one Human. It was hard to believe.
Yes, although Cosnin was anxious to meet this super-Human Adam Cain, he was more anxious to witness his death.
When the comm bleeped on his desk, Cosnin exploded with anger. First, his morbid fantasies of Cain dying had been interrupted. And secondly, because he had left word he was not to be disturbed within this hour, his only hour of private time for the day.
“Speak!” he yelled into the room.
There was a moment of silence on the line before a voice spoke. “My Pleabaen, forgive me. I would not have—”
“Speak, as I said. What is it?”
“Reports are coming in through CW broadcasts.”
“What reports…from where?”
“Everywhere, my Pleabaen, and they all speak of the sudden disappearance of our VN-91 warships.”
Cosnin stopped his pacing. He didn’t know how to respond; the subject had come so suddenly out of nowhere. “Repeat. I did not understand.”
“Broadcast reports from across the galaxy are mentioning the disappearance of our starships. They come from Formil and Juir, and even Crimin. We are attempting communications with our other ships, many in transit. About half our links are going through. The ones we contact report nothing out of the ordinary.”
Cosnin went weak. He didn’t know what was happening, but he had an idea who was behind it. “Continue monitoring. Send all information to Senior Fellow Jessn. He will keep me updated.”
The breaking of one link was immediately followed by the connection of another.
“McCarthy!”
Robert heard the frantic voice of the Pleabaen over the speaker on his desk. Cosnin sounded hysterical.
“My Pleabaen,” Robert said into the room as voice-control linked the pair. “What can I do for you?” He could have asked ‘What’s wrong’ but that would have implied a reading of the Klin’s tone of voice. He would let Cosnin reveal the problem in his own time. Unfortunately for Robert McCarthy, it came with the very next sentence.
“Our ships are disappearing across the galaxy. This has something to do with the mutants and Adam Cain. I know it does.”
Robert plopped down in the chair behind his desk, suddenly weak. “You say they are disappearing?”
“I’m not saying that,” said Cosnin, misunderstanding Robert’s question as only an alien could. “These are eyewitness reports from Formil and Juir and others. This is happening, and the mutants are doing it.”
“If that’s true, it’s only Lila Bol. Panur is in my custody. He’s not doing this.”
“Do not tell me that. Do something about it! If this is true and continues, we are lost. We lose all of our advantage.”
“I will look into it immediately. I will be in touch.”
Robert cut the link before the Pleabaen could say another word. The implications of the brief conversation were tragic. If it was true, then not only were the Klin doomed, but so were his plans for Earth. He was afraid something like this might happen when the mutants got involved with Adam Cain. It was habit for them to interfere in someone’s plans for galactic domination.
Robert accessed the security cameras at the hangar where Cain and the mutant were being held. He replayed the video twice after his initial suspicions were verified, marveling at what he saw. His prisoners were gone, leaving in their wake a pair of breeched holding cells and the remains of four robots strewn across the floor. The escape seemed effortless on the part of the mutant.
Could they really be behind the apparent disappearance of the VN-91s? But how?
But that wasn’t the most important question facing Robert McCarthy.
He had to find where they went.
He accessed the security files for the headquarters building, looking for any alerts recently noted. There weren’t many, but there had been an unauthorized CW link that was automatically terminated when the proper access code wasn’t provided. The link lasted thirty-eight seconds before being cut. That had to be it. Cain and Panur had contacted their rogue ship. Now the loss of communications with the two VN-91s at the ambush point made sense. Cain and his team had found a way to defeat his invincible warships. And they’d done it in a most spectacular fashion.
Robert took up a case he had on the floor next to his desk and headed for the door.
54
“There,” said Panur as he stepped back and admired his workmanship.
Adam had watched as the mutant set to work tearing up the CW consoles and other equipment, and almost just as soon, began reassembling the parts into something else. He watched in awe, asking what Panur was doing. When the mutant finally told him, Adam couldn’t believe it.
“You’re building a trans-dimensional portal…here, and now.”
Panur continued his frantic build. “I’ve always told you TD travel is just an extension of continuous wormhole technology. But with a TD portal, the wormhole connects universes and not simply points within the same existence. Also, unlike CW, my portals can transfer material objects between dimensions. It’s really quite simple.”
Adam looked at the opened-up panels and the small doorframe taking shape across the room. He’d seen something like this before…in his garage back at Lake Tahoe. If Panur said he could do it, he could.
“But don’t these small units need a matching portal to work?”
“Yes, they do…and we have one.”
“Not in the Sol-Kor universe!”
“No, right here in the Vesperian system: A Klin Colony Ship.”
It suddenly dawned on Adam. He had used the small TD portal within one of the huge space stations to jump to the Sol-Kor universe—twice. Could the portal still be working?
“We are fortunate,” said Panur. “One of the three remaining ships in the system is the one with the portal. I checked on the computer. It is still functioning, yet with no portal in existence to link with.”
“Until now.”
“Until now.”
Adam shook his head. “But there are twenty-thousand Klin aboard one of those things.”
“Not anymore. Most of the Klin are on the surface. There is only a token crew aboard.”
Adam had run out of objection. He raised his hands in mock surrender.
“Build away, oh mighty Panur-The-Great. I’ll just be over here killing any Klin who come through the
door.”
“We each have our mission in life,” said the mutant, smiling. “Mine is to build fantastic machines of science. Yours is to kill aliens.”
“And at both we are masters.”
“Is it ready?” Adam asked. He didn’t detect any power running through the portal. Usually a window was opened between the two portals, allowing one to see into the other.
“Everything has an ‘on’ switch,” said Panur. “Here we go.”
Panur flicked a switch on a console and the doorframe began to buzz. Then from within an image began to form, looking like a big screen TV set on its side. But the image inside was upright and static. There were no lights on in the room, just the glow from the control panel for the portal, which only came to life when Panur flicked his switch on Vesper.
“After you,” Panur said. draping an arm at the portal.
Adam hesitated. “You built it,” he said. “You should have the honors.”
Panur smiled and stepped through the portal. He turned back to Adam and smiled.
Then the skin on the mutant’s body began to shiver. His face distorted, one eye falling down while the other migrated to the top of his bald head.
Adam stepped back in shock. Something was wrong—
Then the quivering stopped and the mutant’s face returned to normal.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
Adam gnashed his teeth. “If you weren’t an immortal mutant asshole, I’d wring your scrawny neck.”
“Come on through,” said Panur. “We still have a ship to commandeer. I love that word: commandeer.”
Adam and Panur opened the door to the Colony Ship’s portal room and scanned the outer corridor. A vessel designed to carry a long-term colony of twenty-thousand individuals had to be big and sophisticated. Adam had been a temporary guest aboard one of the Colony Ships years ago—in fact it was this one. Yet he never got the James Bond tour of all its most-secret inner workings.