by T. R. Harris
“I said virtually impossible, not completely. I can fix it.”
“How?” Copernicus asked. Fixing things was his area of expertise, and he was feeling a little insecure at the moment.
“When the array was first built, the original frequency was part of the initial settings, according to the Klin specifications. All I need to do is dump the old data and essentially reboot the system.”
“That’s it?” Coop asked. “That’s too simple. Hell, even I could do that.”
“Then please do,” Panur said with a grin. “Of course, you will first need to understand all the array components and circuitry. In addition, the computer programming is quite complicated and sensitive to error. But you are more than welcome to try.”
“You know what I meant,” Coop mumbled “It just sounded pretty basic, like unplugging and plugging it back in again.”
Sherri was seated next to Coop; she patted his hand. “That’s his solution to everything.”
“But you can do it…reboot the system, as you say?” Sindus asked, more a demand than a question.
“Yes. But it will take access to the original plans. I may have to rebuild portions of the array to bypass some of the damage you have done. But after that, you should be back to the point where the original designers intended the portal to aim.”
The mood in the room changed abruptly. Progress was being made. Within days, the team would be able to see if the Olypon’s claim of untold riches were true. And if so….
Copernicus cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “I know Panur’s fix seems to be pretty damn simple,” he said, still pressing his prior point. “But we still get the reward, don’t we?”
99
An hour later, the team was back aboard the Davion. There were accommodations for them within the array facility, but they preferred their own beds aboard the starship to those of the Olypon.
Sindus had gone off to get authorization for release of the original plans to Panur. Lila, although she too was a mutant genius, deferred to her partner’s expertise. She had not been exposed to all the technology as Panur. She would assist during the repair and reboot, after which she would gain the experience. It only took one exposure and the knowledge would be forever implanted within her incredible mind.
Adam found Panur hunched over one of the computer terminals within the circular bridge dome of the KFV, alone, while most of the others ate, talked or slept. There was a renewed spirit among the crew. Although there were still a fair number of questions circulating, as well as other variables to be worked out, they could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Even Sherri was coming around, believing, like the others, that something good was waiting at the end of the mission.
Adam approached the mutant.
“Shouldn’t you be fixing the array, rather than playing video games on the computer?”
Panur laughed. He may be an alien mutant genius, but at times Adam found him to be the most-Human among them.
“I can do nothing until I review the plans. Besides, I’m doing research. It came as a surprise to me that the Klin would have TD technology long before even I developed it for the Sol-Kor queen. It requires a certain level of scientific advancement to make the leap. There have been no indications—then or now—that the Klin reached that point.”
“But they did build an array; that’s how I’ve come to enjoy your charming company all these years.”
“And that has also been a concern of mine: how and why did the Klin build the portal in the first place?” Panur said, staying on topic. “It seemed such a major diversion of resources, both physical and mental, especially for a race continually on the run from the Juireans.”
“Do you think this lost universe we’re looking for is actually the Sol-Kor dimension?” Adam asked. “Wouldn’t that make sense?”
“It would, if it weren’t for the fact that it was I who detected the Klin array and initiated the contact. If it had been specific to my universe, the link would have already been established. And then there are other considerations.”
“Like what?”
“Like if the Klin had this technology since the time before the Juireans destroyed their homeworld, why did it take four thousand years for them to use it again? And then there are the two different designs, the old and the new.”
“You explained that. The data was lost. And besides, the Klin departure from Klinmon wasn’t exactly planned. It may have taken this long for them to discover what they had sitting in their archives.”
“That is a reasonable assumption. I will have to think on that for a while.”
“And what do you think of our Olypon friends? They’re kind of a schizophrenic group, aren’t they?”
“Indeed,” Panur agreed. “They come off first as passive and weak, but then switch to being real assholes at the drop of a hat.”
“Yeah, kinda reminds me of…you.”
Panur laughed. “So true, and that should worry us all.”
“You know what this also means,” Adam began. “There’s a possibility a Klin colony exists in another universe, and one that’s been thriving for four thousand years.”
Panur nodded. “That could be the reason the Klin built their portal in the first place, to link with their lost population.” He smiled. “Unfortunately, I came through instead, and leading the Sol-Kor colony into your galaxy. Sorry about that.”
“Wouldn’t it also hold true that if you set the array back to its original settings that would lead to this Klin colony? If it linked to the same location as before, then the Klin could be there waiting for the Olypon to come looking for their scientist.”
“Things shift over four thousand years,” Panur said. “Any links made after such a long time would be off as celestial bodies move. It wouldn’t be difficult to adjust the readings once in this other dimension, but space around the linking point would be different than before.”
“That makes sense.”
“And if there are Klin at the other end, they would be of a different kind than we have known. They would have never experienced the Reckoning and the subsequent millennia of scorn from the galaxy. They may be more like the original Klin, before all the anger and vengeance set in.”
“That would be interesting to see,” Adam admitted. “And what about this new kind of power? You still have your doubts about that? Could the Klin be the source?”
Panur nodded. “That is an unknown with only one resolution.”
“We’re going through, aren’t we?” Adam asked.
Panur smiled. “Of course, we are. It’s inter-dimensional travel. It’s what I do.”
“It could be dangerous.”
Panur chuckled. “Fear not, my friend. We’ll have your rather morbid—yet generous—daughter along to protect us. She may even offer us a gift after this is all said and done. Maybe a severed foot this time.”
It took another two days before the Olypon government agreed to release the array plans to Panur. Now he and Lila—along with a curious, yet totally out classed Copernicus Smith—began their study.
“This is amazing,” Panur said three hours later. Coop was awoken by the statement. He had grown bored with all the talk of advanced technology and concepts he didn’t understand and fell asleep in his chair.
“What…what’s amazing,” he mumbled.
Lila pointed at the screen. “He is referring to the level of expertise this took, and for a civilization so new to such advancements. The Klin were leaders of the Seven World Common Alliance at the time, yet they appear to have made great strides in a very short time.”
“That’s correct. I see threads which could lead to gravity-drives and even flash weapon technology. It’s all here in this single device.”
“But the Klin did develop gravity-drive technology, and right before the Reckoning,” Coop pointed out. “That technology survived, but not the TD advancements.”
Panur was still studying the plans, scrolling between screens. “There i
s a genius displayed here. You would imagine a device this complicated and advanced for the time would have the signature of many developers, with fits and starts. But this appears to have been designed over a short time and with one singular focus.”
“Maybe they had their own Panur at the time,” Coop said for comic effect.
“That would explain it,” Panur said, taking him seriously.
“Really?”
“That or a very talented group of engineers with incredible foresight.”
He pushed away from the terminal. “But now we have work to do. Copernicus, you may help, but do not get in the way. We will need you to carry our tools and material, but please do not attempt any repair on your own.”
Copernicus stood up. “Forget that! I’m not going to be your fetch-it boy. Use the natives for that.”
He turned and stormed from the room.
Lila looked at Panur and smiled. “That worked.”
Four days later Panur called the team into the array’s control room. There were a dozen Olypon technicians seated along the consoles, all busy doing what array techs did when their equipment was working. Adam noticed how they appeared more confident and assured than before. This was another dichotomy he found with the race, one that made him suspicious. Of what, he wasn’t sure. All he knew: he didn’t trust the natives.
“I will now begin the reboot procedure,” the mutant announced. “Please Mr. Smith…pull the plug.”
“What…what plug?” Coop stammered, surprised by the mention of his name and the job expected of him.
Panur looked at the mechanic, a wide grin on his face.
“Oh, very funny,” Copernicus said, his face glowing red.
“Unfortunately, the process is a little more complicated than that,” Panur conceded. “But it does involve the powering down of the system, followed by a quick recharge.” He nodded his grey head at the nearest Olypon technician.
In the neighboring generator rooms, dynamos wound down and gauges flickered. A moment later, the high-pitched whine of the machinery returned. In the control room, screens came alive. Panur sat in a seat and began working a keyboard.
“I’ve added a program for measuring the relative pressure between dimensions. There appears to be parity, so no danger. The system is clean and the signal is strong. We are set to link with another dimension once the charges are full, which will be in another two minutes.”
“Will it link with the original dimension?” asked Sindus. He was standing behind the mutant, along with the others.
“That is impossible to tell at this point; however, the frequencies align. But without a point of reference I cannot know for certain, even when the connection is established. This is a space-borne portal, a hole opened within the void. But if this is the proper universe, there should be familiar reference points you could identify from your prior experience. And if there is a portal array nearby, that would be a good indicator we are in the right spot. Since contact forms naturally between array stations, the Klin should have an ancient facility in the region since we are using the original settings from four thousand years ago.”
“But I got the impression from Sindus that there isn’t an array on the other side,” Copernicus said.
“Which is indeed odd. Although portals can be opened into clear space, there is a tendency to follow imperfections caused by the arrays. Perhaps his explorers simply missed it. I will send in a probe to survey the general vicinity once contact is established.”
A main screen was set in the wall above the smaller monitors. It was blank at the moment, with only a few dots of white interrupting the uniform blackness. At first, Adam thought the lights were imperfections in the screen. Now a brilliant line formed in the center, telling him that he had been looking at a video of open space all along, the dots being distant stars. The line formed into two, before separating even more. The bans remained sparkling, even as the black between them was constant and unbroken.
The portal was open, now a window into another dimension.
An object flared near the portal and streaked into the area between the white lines.
“As expected, the probe is detecting nearby celestial bodies,” Panur announced. “There is a large moon. Sindus, does this match your records from when Anolis went through the first time?”
The native sat at one of the stations and began calling up data. There were images and writing, numbers and graphs. He shook his head.
“It is hard to say without a more extensive survey. I will send the fleet through.”
“Fleet?” Adam asked. “What fleet?”
“We have a comprehensive rescue force ready. We must get them through before the portal closes.”
“Without knowing if this is the right universe?”
“We can reopen the portal in seven hours. By then they will have determined the legitimacy of the location.”
“That’s kind of reckless, isn’t it?”
“It is our decision to make.” Sindus reached for the comm switch.
“Do not do that!” Tidus ordered. “We will go through first,” He looked at the others. “To make sure it is safe and to survey our claim. That is what we negotiated.”
“Yet we have many more ships prepared for the journey.”
“Tidus is right,” Adam said. “We’ll lead the way. Your people can follow at the next cycle—if this is the right place. We’ll need the coordinates where Anolis set up her base.”
Sindus was fuming mad. Adam couldn’t understand the emotion, but it was just part of the erratic nature of the Olypon. “That is not acceptable.”
“Yet it is acceptable,” said Panur. “Agree…or I will shut down the array, and once I do you will have much difficulty reestablishing the link. I have changed the frequency. I know it, but you and your scientists will not.”
“Why are you doing this? Our relationship has turned adversarial.”
“Not really,” Copernicus said. “We’re just protecting our interest in the operation. So decide, Sindus, before Panur pulls the plug. We can only keep a portal open for twenty-two minutes before it closes on its own. Then it’s seven hours to charge the generators for the next link.”
Even alien faces turn red when upset; Sindus’s was literally glowing. “Very well,” he growled. “I will provide the coordinates to Anolis’s planet. But you must go now. The fleet will go through at the next opening. That you cannot prevent.”
Don’t worry, Adam said to the team through his ATD. We won’t let these bastards stab us in the back. If there’s a fortune to be made here, we’re going to get it.
100
It was a mad dash for the team through the umbilical and into the Davion. One of the generators had been left humming, shortening the lift off procedures. Still, it was five minutes before the ship shot from the surface of Mon-Sim, heading for an empty region of space between two glowing bands of light. This was the boundary between universes, alive with an elemental energy, defining the rip the trans-dimensional array had opened. It was only seventy-five thousand miles above the surface of the planet, at a point where the triple towers of the array focused their energy.
The Davion sped through the portal with several minutes to spare.
All the blazing stars and nebulae that made up the barrier surrounding the Dysion Void beyond the planet Mon-Sim vanished, replaced by another cast of celestial characters, including a huge gas giant off to the right and two gray moons lit by conflicting lights below them. The system’s star was to the left, and from this distance, appeared to be about a quarter the diameter of the full moon from Earth.
Of the eight-person crew, over half had been to other dimensions. For Copernicus, Tidus and Arieel, this was a first. Although there was only the slightest nausea associated with the transit, it was the idea itself that impressed them the most…for a moment. Then staring out the forward viewports, it was Arieel who conveyed the sentiments of the trio of TD rookies.
“Is that it?” she said. “Looks l
ike where we just left.”
“Yeah, that was pretty much my impression the first time I made a jump,” Adam agreed. “The different universes really aren’t that different after all.” He activated the main screen and zeroed in on the largest nearby moon. “I’m picking up a magnetic disturbance on the surface.”
“It is the Klin array,” Panur stated with confidence.
“So, there is an array?” Coop asked. “That wasn’t too hard to find.”
Riyad was at the controls; he pulled the stick over and lined up on the moon. A flashing red dot highlighted the location of the facility. The array became more defined the closer they got, showing a trio of reddish metal structures growing out of the grey rock. The three service buildings resolved and a moment later Riyad pulled back on the control stick and hovered in the micro-gravity of the airless moon, riding on small jets of gas.
The facility looked to be abandoned, with the surfaces and roofs of the structures coated in uniform layers of dust. Using magnification, Adam scanned the grounds. None of the dust was broken by boot or tire tracks. The few windows of the buildings were black rectangles, and the only light came from the competing radiance from the nearby gas giant and the distant star.
“This place is dead, and has been for a long time,” Copernicus said. “But shouldn’t we get it running to stabilize the portal?”
“That would have been the logical first step when reaching the dimension,” Panur agreed.
“But Anolis didn’t do it,” Adam said. “Why not?”
“And the array wasn’t hard to find,” Sherri added. “In fact, it would be impossible to miss.”
“These are questions we will answer in time,” Panur said impatiently. “But for now, do you realize what we are looking at? This is a Klin TD array at least four thousand years old.” There was an almost mystical quality to the mutant’s words, a degree of respect Adam had never heard from the mutant. Panur always considered himself to be the smartest person in the room, and most times he was right. But now he was realizing a group of ancient scientists and engineers had beaten him to the TD punch…and by several thousand years. He was humbled by the event. “I find it fascinating that we now have proof of what the Klin accomplished with the primitive technology they had at the time. It is an incredible advancement that was lost to time for so long.”