Echoes of Esharam

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by Robert Davies


  “Are you telling me my shuttle ran around some sort of circle in time while everything else went on without me?”

  “That is a crude way of putting it, but the description is relatively accurate. Until you return to Earth space, we will not know with any degree of certainty.”

  “What does this mean for me now?” Norris asked, looking closely at the holographic image.

  Tindas walked to the display console. “The Trap cannot be repaired as we once believed, and we were forced to activate its self-destruct sequence so that others wouldn’t be directed from the Plexus.”

  Norris stared at Tindas for a moment.

  “Are you saying I’m here to stay?” he asked.

  “No, no, that’s not the case, Darrien, please don’t be alarmed. Haleth anticipated this eventuality while you were still a guest of Colonel Tremmek and he re-opened an earlier investigation into all known Hyperthreads that link to other, unexplored gates our people have identified.”

  “Hyperthreads?” Norris asked at once.

  “Similar to the Plexus network, Hyperthreads are distinct and usually parallel structures, except for their ability to move matter at exponentially lower passages of time. Our physicists discovered them shortly before your first arrival, but the effect of the phenomenon and its relationship to time means we can access them and travel between distant places much faster. The internal velocity of matter remains constant to that of a Plexus thread, but the shift in time within a Hyperthread creates the illusion of speed.”

  “How will that help?”

  “We found several Hyperthreads that pass through dozens of corridors, as you call them, and all within Terran space. In theory, they can be accessed from any of a dozen local gates near Fells Moll.”

  “In theory?”

  “While the locations of these new Hyperthreads have been positively identified, and the evidence suggests their overall characteristics are no different from any we now traverse, none of our people have actually entered those particular tunnels to prove their stability.”

  “So I have to play Guinea pig and hope it works?”

  “I don’t understand the reference, Darrien.”

  “Laboratory animal!”

  “I see. Yes, in a manner of speaking, that’s true, but our theorists are convinced there will be no difficulties, and Haleth agrees.”

  “I’d rather not get poofed out of existence for a theory, Professor.”

  “Your concern is understandable, Darrien, but we have explored hundreds of Hyperthreads. Unstable examples always exhibit intermittent variances in harmonic signatures, but these particular tunnels show nothing out of the ordinary; you will be able access them with confidence.”

  Norris smiled sadly and said, “I don’t have much choice, do I?”

  “Perhaps not, but there is the benefit of static time passage; unlike the Flash Traps, Hyperthreads do not cause unpredictable delays in the timeline.”

  “I hope that means something good.”

  “It means, from our perspective on Fells Moll, you will arrive in Earth space in only a few day cycles because stable Hyperthreads compress time.”

  “Okay,” Norris said quickly, “but even if I’m going back in one of these Hyperthreads, there’s still no way to tell how much will have passed back home since the Trap found me again?”

  “When we sent you back to Earth space seventeen years ago, only a few days had passed in Earth space after more than a year on Fells Moll. This indicated to us the Trap may have experienced a shift anomaly, causing it to inadvertently access a small segment of a Terran-side Hyperthread. It was not configured to do so, but that is the only way the transit could’ve been made with so short a passage of time. Some Plexus tunnels intersect with Hyperthreads, but the instances are rare; this one, apparently, did.”

  “And now?”

  “Haleth’s Searcher colleagues are confident you will arrive in Terran space after a few days, but the subsequent time expenditure on the far side of the thread cannot be predicted accurately. We hope the anomaly does not persist, Darrien, but you must prepare yourself for the possibility years may have passed while you were looped in the original Plexus.”

  He sat in silence, playing out the scenarios in his mind and with them, the possibility everything could be different when he made his way home to Earth. The lack of certainty made for the possibility little time would’ve passed, but without proof, he was left to adjust and consider a changed world waited for him on the far side of the quadrant. Either way, he knew, the possibilities wouldn’t become reality until he began and his thoughts returned to the present and the promise of Hyperthreads that might yet transport him to his home.

  As he sat in the quiet of Qural’s lab, Norris remembered the excited chatter between physics majors during his college days. Though unnamed, the super-speed Hyperthreads, a narrow array of tunnels distinct and separate from the vast Plexus network, had been theorized for years, but no evidence was found by Earth science. He smiled again, knowing he was the first human to see and experience proof of Hyperthreads seventeen years before and it buoyed his spirits to know they might yet be the method of his return.

  “At least I’ll be able to get back, but not until we deal with this problem of yours. You’ve mentioned the ‘larger question’ a few times, but I’m guessing you’re ready to fill us in now?”

  Tindas turned to Qural. She nodded and said, “Darrien, our time is severely limited, so we must be direct and very brief; I hope you will understand and appreciate the urgency. There will be opportunities to expand on what we are about to tell you, and also to answer the many questions this is bound to create, but please be patient.”

  “I understand,” Norris said.

  Tindas pulled a lab chair close to Norris and sat down slowly.

  “On the distant borders of the Cluster, there is a sector we call the Dome. It is a small collection of stellar systems extremely remote from the more densely populated regions, including our own. Within it is the reason we are asking so much of you now. We didn’t tell you of this when you were first here because we simply ran out of time, but circumstance has given us a second chance to complete a deadly important task. What we are about to describe is the larger question, and it may be the most important thing any of us will ever do.”

  Norris looked at the area, now highlighted in red. Nothing was familiar, but its distance from Khorran and Anashi space was staggering and tenfold that which separated Fells Moll from Earth. Tindas continued.

  “Within the Dome, a species—the Saroqui—was discovered by Kol’s ancestors centuries ago. They were drawn to a particular system of planets by evidence of a terrible war, but the Searchers’ first exploration teams found something entirely different and profoundly unexpected.”

  They listened to the old Khorran, but his tone was changed—solemn and with purpose.

  “The armed conflict,” Tindas continued, “was not as one might expect; there were no equal combatants fighting across battlefronts. Instead, the destruction was one-sided. Kol’s people looked on as hundreds of thousands of tiny ships poured out from Plexus gates across three Saroqui planetary systems, sent by a distant, unknown species they had never met.”

  “An invasion force?” Rantara asked.

  “No,” Tindas replied. “Instead, these small ships were weapons—thousands upon thousands of them—making for independent targets to release warheads with incredible explosive power.”

  “Who were the Saroqui fighting?” Banen asked.

  Kol joined Qural near the Transceptor and said, “As odd as it sounds, they weren’t fighting at all, Doctor. The attacking ships appeared so suddenly and with such terrible effect, there was no defense that could be mounted. By sheer numbers, the hordes of ships overwhelmed the Saroqui military’s response in a massive, surprise attack. Our research teams withdrew to avoid becoming casualties as well, but when they returned later, the attacks had ended suddenly and without further action.”

 
She opened a still image captured from above a major city, blackened and smoldering after hundreds of detonations.

  “Those Saroqui left alive,” she continued, “were concerned only with survival.”

  Tindas tapped a command and the sobering images appeared in sequence, each showing in clear and horrible detail the aftermath of an unprecedented offensive.

  “We now know these machines exited from the Plexus simultaneously at thousands of gates without warning, releasing their payloads before anyone could react. In days, their entire defense grid had been neutralized as wave after wave of these mysterious vessels sought out and attacked every population center in Saroqui territory.”

  There was only silence as the group listened to the description, each forming in their minds the images Tindas’ words had made. Qural continued for him.

  “Within months, there was little of their civilization that remained; the attacks had gone unabated since the first wave of ships arrived, yet more and more continued the bombardment. Their culture, infrastructure and population centers had been turned to ashes, but inexplicably, the attacks ceased suddenly and without notice or reason. Survivors interpreted the sudden lull as a prelude to the first surface attack waves, but no one arrived.”

  Norris stood, running a palm across the stubble of growth on his chin. He looked again at the holo-image, but the purpose of Tindas’ description remained unclear. Rantara wanted answers, too.

  “So what happened to the attackers?” she asked. “Where was their invasion fleet?”

  Tindas smiled at her intuition.

  “Where indeed,” he said. “There was no further evidence of the attacking force at all; only the destruction their ships left behind. They sent their bombardment vessels to kill an entire people, yet they did not occupy the planets afterward. Your suspicions are valid, Sergeant; they never intended to invade. Instead, they meant only to destroy the Saroqui in an unprecedented act of near genocidal proportions. It is also worth noting the ships themselves were navigated automatically; when several malfunctioned and crashed, Kol’s people investigated the wreckage and found there were no crews to operate them.”

  Rantara frowned in confusion. “Why go to the trouble of blasting a civilization out of existence if you don’t intend to take it for yourself? Did they not even strip those worlds of their resources?”

  Kol stepped forward.

  “My ancestors found this event had been one of several others over the course of the Dome’s recent history. In each case, an entire race was attacked by these weapons and driven nearly to extinction. The condition remained for nearly three centuries until at last, we discovered the identity of the attackers and their purpose.”

  “What did your people find?” Norris asked at last, almost afraid to hear the answer. Tindas spoke for her.

  “The assault was launched by an enigmatic race called Namadi. For millennia, few even knew of their existence because their worlds are so remote, but with these recent, expansionist events, they have become the most immediate threat to every civilization in this galaxy.”

  They looked at Tindas and saw no exaggeration. In his expression lived the cold and sobering reality of what the faceless Namadi were, but more than that, a clear message that somehow each of them had become connected to what was obviously the ‘larger question.’ In the quiet that followed, they looked at the display until Theriani moved from Banen’s side. She had been content in hers and the Doctor’s freedom, saying little as each day passed, but the fierce little Revallan saw at once what Tindas meant.

  “That why you and Qural make the truce between all Khorran and Anash so sudden. The Namadi make you know everything for what they do if you wait and not stop the battle between yourself, maybe.”

  Rantara saw it too and nodded her agreement as she moved to Theriani’s side.

  “She’s right; this is starting to make sense now. You know something more and that has forced you to convince both sides to this cease-fire, hasn’t it, Professor?”

  She didn’t wait for Tindas’ reply. “You need the Anash and Khorrans to work as one against the Namadi and because of it, the war has become a complication neither of you can afford.”

  Qural answered from where she stood near the computers.

  “You are correct, Sergeant; we are now a target of the Namadi and we must act in unison to meet and remove the threat.”

  Norris held up a hand.

  “Hold on a second. If you’re saying these Namadi people are coming for you, what are the Khorran Assembly and Anashi Council doing about it?”

  “Our attempts at alerting the Premier and Chancellor failed, Darrien; we were denied access to both chambers.”

  “How can they turn something like this away?”

  “Most Khorrans and the Anash live in utter hatred of the other and would not entertain any idea of an alliance, least of all our leaders. It is distasteful to admit, but our people have become so accustomed to fighting, no amount of argument from us could ever convince them to unite.”

  “And somehow, I fit into this equation?” Norris asked.

  “Yes,” she answered. “We had to find a method of showing them what lies on the far side of the sector. Our leaders must understand so that even the most strident and uncompromising zealot—Khorran or Anashi—will be unable to ignore the threat.”

  “The cease-fire,” said Banen suddenly and Tindas nodded.

  “We now have the time needed to expose the Namadi threat, but also a chance to demonstrate that a unified effort must be mounted before it is too late.”

  Rantara’s suspicions were awakened at once.

  “You wouldn’t tell us this if there wasn’t a reason and Darrien is at the heart of it. I’m tired of history lessons and political maneuvering, Professor, tell me what this has to do with us…with Darrien; no more veiled messages!”

  Qural moved next to Norris.

  “When you were with us before, we studied everything about you, Darrien. Not just your particular physical nature, but also the functions of your brain and the way humans process information. Haleth was especially interested in that aspect.”

  Norris remembered.

  “He had me down here almost every day, showing me a lot of images one after the other and asking questions about them when we were done.”

  “You may remember the images themselves were only distractors,” Haleth continued. “Our true purpose was an investigation of how human memory functions differ from those of an average Anashi or Khorran male, for example.”

  “Did the investigations reveal something new?” Banen asked, suddenly more interested by the discussion’s turn to human physiology than he had been listening to a warning about the Namadi.

  “What he found was unexpected,” Qural said, “but it dramatically changed our understanding of memory mechanisms and recall. In another time and place, Haleth’s research would have been widely recognized and rewarded.”

  “But not that time?” Rantara asked.

  “Our work with Darrien was kept at a very confidential level; few outside Fells Moll even knew of his presence. But everything changed when the research was noticed by Eru Toa.”

  “He wanted to sell me,” Norris said.

  “Toa was intimately involved with a group we do not speak of often,” Kol replied; “a criminal element that has made a business of acquiring and trading for profit a product of the Transceptor’s vast capabilities. Among my people, they are known as Memory Merchants.”

  “They buy and sell memories?” Rantara asked quickly.

  “The practice has made them wealthy and powerful,” Kol continued; “Toa enjoys considerable influence from his association with the Merchants he would not otherwise have gained as a Pod Elder.”

  “What value is found in exchanging for profit the memories of another?” Banen asked suddenly.

  “Seeing through the eyes of the memory’s owner what cannot be experienced by the viewer, Doctor,” Tindas replied. “Darrien is the only human
ever to travel here and Toa knew it. His unique condition made Darrien a commodity of high value. In many ways, Toa’s interest was mirrored years later by Polpos Tremmek’s, although the Colonel never realized Darrien’s full potential. Eru Toa, on the other hand, suspected there was much more.”

  “Potential?” Darrien asked.

  “As you can see, the physical condition of my people is not one that lends itself to rigorous activity,” Kol answered. “There are reasons for this I can describe for you another time, but we have become reliant on our technology in nearly every respect. Because of this, our personal experiences have become diluted and the product of sedentary lives; we no longer do the things most of you would consider ordinary pursuits.”

  “What things?” Norris asked.

  “Those activities that make for adventure, Darrien; the danger of battle or hand-to-hand combat, for example, or taking part in the rigorous sporting events you described for us when you were first with us. However, it was the darker, more questionable things that interested Toa and the most prominent among them were violent crimes against others, or extreme, unnatural sexual contact.”

  In seconds, they saw in the unpleasant recesses of their own minds a flurry of images that gave form to Kol’s words. Where they sat in silence, each understood the often violated borders of civilized behavior and how far beyond them so many had been willing to go. The perversions and deviant excesses she spoke of were hardly unique to any one species, but Banen was touched by Kol’s description more deeply than the others. With the unspeakable images from the chasm all too vivid in his mind, he walked toward her slowly, nodding just a little and it was clear he understood.

  “I see it now; Toa and these Memory Merchants sell the experiences of others to their clients; the memories are merely a vehicle to transfer them.”

  “Yes,” Kol replied. “The practice began more than a century ago, but excessive demand has made the Merchants powerful and wealthy.”

  “Am I correct in assuming the most lucrative memories are extracted from rapists, murderers or other violent outcasts?”

 

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