The Lion in Paradise

by Brindle, Nathan C.

  "Aye, aye, captain. I have the conn. Pilot, let's get back into warp and get Miss Raven back to Devlin's on time."

  "Aye, aye, Number Two."

  "Meanwhile, Lieutenant Commander Fox, I'd appreciate it if you and your three friends, here, would join me in the wardroom for a cup of coffee – and a bit of a debriefing." The captain turned, and started walking. Raven and the others looked at each other, shrugged, and followed.

  The wardroom was located two frames back, just past the deck hatch the team had used to access the bridge deck. Jackson punched a code on the lock panel, the wardroom hatch slid open, and the five of them trooped in and saw a conference table for six, and a nice coffee service on a sideboard on the corridor-side wall. "Everybody have a seat, I programmed the pot to start brewing when I opened the door," invited the captain.

  They all sat as the welcome aroma of coffee began to fill the room. The captain remained standing by the sideboard, drumming his fingers on the countertop, as the coffee pot made its various little noises, and finally lit up its green "ready" light. He then removed five cups emblazoned with the Star's logo from the cabinet above the sideboard, and filled them, handing them over to the table, where each of his appreciative guests accepted one. Finally, he took his own cup, walked to the head of the table, and sat down.

  "Breakfast is in a couple of hours at this point, so I haven't ordered up anything to eat, but if you want anything, say the word and I'll call my steward," he said.

  "I think we're good," replied Raven. "If everyone else's adrenaline level is up like mine, I doubt any of us are hungry."

  The three spec-ops agents murmured agreement.

  Jackson smiled, gently. "I imagine you'll be plenty hungry by breakfast, and I urge you to eat as much as you want from the breakfast buffet," he said. "Now, the reason I asked you all to come in here and talk to me is," and he reached under the table and pressed a button; a red SECURE sign lit up on the wall behind him, and the wardroom hatch latched, "I really need to know what the hell happened on my bridge, before SFMID or SFCIS start asking me questions I can't answer."

  The three spec-ops agents looked at each other, and nodded. "Well," said Pete, quietly, "we'd like to know that, too – and as it happens, we're SFMID on a completely unrelated assignment. So you can rest assured, we're not saying anything about this till we can report to higher."

  "You mean, Grumpaw," replied Raven, completely unsurprised, though a little embarrassed about what she'd said earlier about "taking the Space Force Marine attitude" about spacing the pirates. "Or my sister Delaney."

  Pete laughed. "Close. Your sister, Colonel Delaney Wolff Fox, is the overall FTSA CO, but we report to her husband, Lt. Colonel Norm Harbinger, who's the day-to-day CO over the fire teams. We're part of FTSA2, and we have a mission on Devlin's Strike, about which I can say absolutely nothing further. But we'll be happy to make a report back to SFMID through FTSA, Captain Jackson, with copies to SFCIS, and I think you and your crew will come away looking very good, so please don't worry about that. I don't think anyone could have expected this sort of piracy attempt, primarily because it's just plain stupid, and also because nobody's ever thought of this angle before."

  "The question I really have, though," said Jackson, "is two-fold. How did those pirates suddenly disappear without a trace, and where did they go such that one of them ended up outside the main hatch, that is to say, in vacuum, and had to cycle it from outside to get back in? Actually, I have a third question – how did he manage to catch hold when, by his own telling, his five companions didn't?"

  "Um," said Raven, uncomfortably. "Captain, I think I have at least partial answers to that, but I don't understand them, and I'm afraid they may be classified so high, I can't tell you what I think happened anyway. I don't mean to say that I'm read into some super-secret compartment, because I'm not. I'm not military and never have been, but I'm a member of a family that's very military-oriented. So I know there is such a compartment, I know it's a very limited compartment, and I suspect I'm going to be read into it after I talk to my Mom and Grumpaw about what I think happened."

  "So," said the captain, with a certain amount of humor, "what you're saying is, you're your mother's daughter, and might have influenced events with abilities you inherited from her?"

  "All I know," said Raven, carefully, "is just before I opened the blast doors, I thought to myself how nice it would be if this whole thing was over and those pirates were already spaced, and that thought was followed immediately by a huge adrenaline rush. The doors opened, we ran in, and the pirates were gone. And when the pirate that coshed Ashraf showed up again and shot at me, I had the same adrenaline rush, and that apparently had something to do with the bullet he fired at me stopping suddenly in mid-flight, then crumbling and dropping to the ground as if it had hit something hard." She sighed. "It's kind of inexplicable. But my sisters and I, we're all kind of strange."

  Pete whistled, lowly. "God, I want you on my fire team," he said, fervently.

  That broke the tension, and they all started laughing, including Raven.

  "That's really all I know," said Raven, presently, "and this is really, truly amazing coffee."

  "It's Azure Mountain," the captain told her, "from New Jamaica. Better than Blue Mountain, they say, and a lot cheaper, too, because there's a huge area where Blue Mountain coffee plants grow exceedingly well."

  "Ah, so that's why you didn't offer cream or sugar," noted Blake.

  "Indeed. You don't adulterate perfectly good coffee with such. Though I have been known to add a little bourbon, from time to time," confided the captain.

  "So, how late are we going to be at Devlin's?" asked Raven, resignedly.

  The captain smiled. "Believe it or not, we should be pretty close to being on time, if not a few minutes early."

  "Oh! That seems . . . seems . . . umm . . . whoa . . . did you feel that?"

  "Feel what?"

  Raven looked around, and suddenly launched herself to her feet. "There! Gravitic anomaly!" She pointed portside. "Can't you feel it?"

  The captain looked puzzled. "No . . . "

  Pete said, "Raven? What do we do?"

  Black added, "We don't feel it, either."

  Rafe said, dangerously, "I do." He rose, and walked around the table to where Raven was sitting. "Is it there?" he asked, also pointing portside, but slightly off of the vector to which Raven had originally pointed.

  "Yes. You see?"

  "I do. That's bad."

  She looked at him. "Master of understatement, much?"

  "Heh."

  "What are you seeing?" queried the captain, reaching for his comm to call the bridge.

  "It's . . . a bowling ball," said Raven. Rafe nodded, vigorously.

  "A what?"

  "Well, that's what it looks like."

  Rafe added, "It's about fifty yards off the port bow, it zoomed in and it's now keeping pace with us."

  "In warp?" shouted the captain, nearly in shock. "That's impossible!"

  "Rafe," said Pete, "are you related to her?"

  "No," said Rafe. "Nobody in this timeline is related to her."

  "That's not true," retorted Raven, hotly, "my father's family is from this timeline."

  "Sorry, my bad. I meant nobody in this timeline is related to your mother."

  "Technically . . . " Raven gave up. "Pete, why is that important?"

  "Sorry, I can't say," apologized Pete. "But . . . working around your sister, you start to wonder about things."

  "Things?"

  "Weird things. Little things. I can't go into it. But you've clearly got what she's got, and I suppose you both got that from your mother."

  "Raven," said Rafe, still looking at the bulkhead, "it's cracking open."

  "Oh," replied Raven, looking the same direction. "Oh. That's not good. That's not good at all. That's what my Grumpaw would call 'a badness thing.'"

  "What is it?" breathed Blake, sounding like she really did not want to know.

/>   "An alien."

  "What, a Shizzle?"

  "Unfortunately, no." Raven waved at the table-mounted holoprojector, which obediently turned on, and displayed a holo of . . .

  . . . a huge, jet-black, clawed, spiny thing. With a barely-visible human displayed next to it for scale.

  "What the hell is that?" bellowed Pete, wide-eyed.

  "I dunno," said Raven, concentrating, "but don't bother me for a moment. I think I see how to get rid of it."

  The captain was on his comm, talking to the bridge. "Yes, I want you to drop out of warp and order all stop. Yes, I—"

  "No, Captain!" cried Raven, still concentrating. "It will just follow us, and I have a chance against it in warp!" She grabbed blindly for Rafe; the man took her hand, and got the same look of concentration on his face.

  "Ah," he said, "I see. You need more power."

  "Yes."

  "What sort of power?" asked the captain, after he'd belayed his orders to the bridge.

  This kind of power.

  The room went dark, except for emergency lighting, which popped on instantly.

  And then the ship shuddered. It shuddered again. To the people in the wardroom – indeed, to everyone on the ship – a wave of malaise, and warping spacetime, washed over them.

  Several times. As the ship continued to shudder.

  We have enough power. The rift is opening. Now, direct it!

  How?

  Can you see this grid?

  Barely.

  I need to create a gravity well. Think of that bowling ball weighting down the fabric of the universe, as if the fabric were thin rubber and the ball was creating a pocket in it.

  Ah, the same way gravity is depicted in 3D holos . . .

  Yes!

  I can feed you the power, but I can't see clearly enough to know where you need it.

  Okay, then let's do that. Increase the power steadily until I have it all.

  What's that thing's status?

  The ball is still cracking open. It must be some sort of tough, heavy element. The thing is frantic to get out, it knows what we're doing.

  I have given you full power, Raven. Can you direct it safely?

  I don't know, Rafe. I can only try.

  Then hold on to me and let it rip!

  Raven grabbed Rafe's other hand and pulled him close. "Now!" she shouted.

  The ship staggered, as if it had hit some sort of warp "reef" or "shoal," but was able to continue on past it, bumping, grinding, and finally winning free.

  "Now, Captain!" cried Raven. "Tell the pilot to drop us out of warp, NOW!"

  "Captain to bridge, drop us out of warp, now, now, now!"

  "Acknowledged," came back through the comm. The ship shuddered again, one last time, and was still. "We are out of warp, sir."

  The lights in the wardroom, and for that matter, throughout the ship, flickered back on.

  Raven fainted dead away. It was all Rafe could do to hold her up; Blake and Pete leapt from their chairs and kept them both from falling to the deck, guiding them back into their chairs at the table.

  "Engineering to Captain Jackson," came over the 1MC.

  Jackson reached over and thumbed a comm built into the table. "Go for Jackson. And, Anse, before you ask, I have no idea."

  "Sir, I have some amazing video from the external cameras."

  "I'm sure you do. Hold onto it. I'm sure SFMID will want to see it. I truly imagine Miss Fox's grandfather is going to be extremely interested in what it contains. Are we in good shape, down there?"

  Anse laughed, nervously. "Well, other than the fusion burners going to 130% for about two minutes, a level for which I am sure you are aware they are not rated, and all that power just . . . disappearing, except what was being directed to the singularity drive and the bridge controls, we seem to be shipshape down here. Though I have no idea what we hit, or what was shaking us, or what was making blue taste like a mint julep."

  "Very well. Keep me informed. Jackson, out. Medical! I need a tech up here in my wardroom, stat, Miss Fox has fainted."

  "Acknowledged, Captain, medtech is en route."

  "Captain, this is the bridge . . . we seem to have arrived at Devlin's Star."

  "Remind me never to take that shortcut again. Jackson out."

  Raven roused a bit. "Wha' happen?" she whispered. Rafe, sitting next to her, put his hand on hers.

  "I think we got it," he replied.

  "Oh good," she said, then closed her eyes again.

  "I don't think she's going to be playing that gig tonight," said Blake.

  Pete laughed, softly. "I dunno, Blake. Not sure I'd bet against her."

  He looked at the captain. "Sir, the pirate in Medical – I'd like to interrogate him, if he wakes up before we make port."

  The captain nodded. "You're more than welcome to do so. It's rare there's a professional aboard when one of these piracies happens, so generally there's little more than a Q and A that's more Q than A, they go before a court, and they go out the airlock. Miss Fox seems to be aware the court is optional, these days." He shook his head. "It didn't used to be, but there was so much piracy creating so much useless paperwork, Space Force got the law changed to leave it to the commanding officer's discretion." He smiled, slightly. "I could argue that Miss Fox crossed home plate without touching third base, but in the situation at hand, I'm not going to second-guess her decision. My log will indicate that I was perfectly happy to omit the court."

  "Good enough," Pete laughed. "It so happens I have some truth drugs in my kit, and I'm going to use them as required. Maybe we'll get some answers out of this one."

  The wardroom hatch slid open, and as the medtech bustled in, and started setting up his equipment, Pete looked at Raven. She was passed out, snoring slightly, and he grinned. "As for Miss Fox – yeah, she's a tough 'un. She might just fool us all. I'm planning to buy tickets for her gig, tonight."

  Blake laughed, and said, "I'll take that chance; I'm in, too."

  Rafe, still holding Raven's hand, just grunted affirmation.

  But he was smiling.

  Chapter 7

  The Scholar, Redux

  Hours later, not long before local midnight, the "bowling ball" (as they were all calling it) emerged from the ground, about fifty feet away from the Bandersnatch. And then, it just sat there.

  "Let's go look!" exclaimed Yehudit, reaching for a pair of NODs.

  "Wait," cautioned her grandfather.

  "Indeed, wait," agreed Beam. "If this is really something sent by the Darkness, we must be exceedingly careful in examining it."

  Wolff looked at von Barronov. "Can you scan it?"

  The other man shrugged. "Yeah, I can scan it, but I get zip."

  "And I cannot do more than see it in the visual spectrum," said Beam. "Normally, the structure of something of this universe is not impervious to me. But of course, this is not a thing my people made."

  "Is it because it's in the True Universe and not in a simulation?" inquired von Barronov.

  "No." Beam was positive about that. "I have no trouble seeing the structure of this ship, or of the buildings across the way, or even the planet itself, all the way down to where the anomaly was. That's the part I find strange."

  "I can see into the ball," said Yehudit, off-handedly.

  "You can?" asked Beam, surprised.

  "I'm willing to bet Ariela and all of her daughters can, if Yehudit can," said Wolff, thoughtfully.

  "What's in there?" asked von Barronov, reasonably.

  Yehudit frowned. "It's hard to say," she said, "because it seems to be all squished up in there, or rolled up, or compacted, or whatever . . . but I'd be about half-inclined to say it's alive."

  "No," said Beam, "surely not."

  "Yes," Yehudit contradicted him, "because it's moving, too."

  Wolff and von Barronov looked at each other. Von Barronov slapped the button for the turret, jumped up, and hopped into the gunner's seat before it made it to the deck. "Going up," h
e said, and he hit the button to raise the seat.

  "You left us out of phase, right?" yelled Wolff.

  "Yes," came the response. "And the ball is in sync with the True Universe." They heard the guns spin up as the fusion burner vibrated a bit under their feet as it took up the load, and then heard the turret rotate to get the ball in its sights. "If that thing opens up even so much as a crack, rotate us into sync, and I'll blow it to hell."

  "Too bad we haven't got all the bugs worked out of those mini-Rod guns, yet."

  "I know, right?"

  Yehudit looked at Beam. "Wait, can't you stop them?"

  Beam shook his head. "Young adept," he said, gravely, "I am 98.369 percent sure they are doing the right thing."

  "Huh?"

  "They haven't really told you, except for that crack about me being 'a sentient computer in a human suit,' but truth be told, that's exactly what I am. You'll find it out soon enough, but I am, in fact, the Great Simulation, or more properly, the computer that runs it. I just go by 'Beam', or the equivalent in the current Guardians' language, when I walk among them as one of them." He sighed. "I get bored. It's the curse of being sentient."

  Yehudit did a double-take, opened her mouth, closed it, thought a moment, nodded, then said, "All righty then. So I guess you are, indeed, 98.369 percent sure they are doing the right thing."

  Beam grinned. "It's one of those things I do with spare cycles – calculate probabilities."

  "He's not pulling your leg about any of that," confirmed Wolff, still concentrating on the controls and the view out the front port. "It's all true and you'll be read into the compartment when we get back to DC. I think I'm going to have to read all five of you – well, four, Delaney already knows – in, now." He reached over to the navigator's console and triggered the communications controls. "Lieutenant General John Wolff, aboard the Frumious Bandersnatch, to whichever frigate is in synchronous orbit over or near 45 degrees east, 32 degrees north. I may have a fire mission for you."

  "Frumious Bandersnatch, this is the Constitution, we are near those coordinates. FYI, sir, your signal is very weak and scratchy, over."