by Eric Warren
“Don’t worry, Ensign,” Greene said. “We have one more run to try.” He turned to Zaal. “Is the data probe ready?” Zaal nodded, his hood bobbing back and forth. “I want it launched as soon as we confirm the weapon didn’t work. We can only pray someone out there will find it and avoid this area in the future.”
If there’s anyone left in the future, Evie thought. She caught the sound of the hypervator doors opening and glanced over her shoulder to see Cas walk out.
“Sir, permission to take Commander Blohm’s station,” Cas said.
“Please. We need all the help we can get.” He still hadn’t taken his eyes off the screen in front of them. Without missing a beat, he continued. “Were you able to find the consul?”
“Yes, sir, she’s fine. Nothing to worry about.” Cas shot looks to Evie and to Box. Could they really do this? And what would be the repercussions? She didn’t think she could sit back and play innocent when she knew exactly what was going to happen. That was cowardly. And if there was one thing Evie Diazal was not, it was afraid.
“Captain,” she said, turning to him. “You need to know something.” Box had moved away from the wall and Cas shook his head slightly, his eyes pleading not to give herself away. But if they were going to do this, the captain deserved to know, rather than have the rug pulled out from under him. He needed to be aware she was a willing participant, because her actions would have consequences.
“Yes, Commander?” His gaze still hadn’t left the screen.
“Against your orders, sir, we have replaced the biological weapon with a trans-dimensional one.” Cas rose from the engineering station, keeping his movements measured. If the captain did something rash, Cas might have to take over tactical, which would mean going toe-to-toe against Uuma, who was rumored to be a superb fighter.
Greene’s eyes softened. “Yes, Commander. I know.” Evie took stock of the rest of the bridge. Everyone had turned to watch the confrontation, and Box had inched closer to Ensign Ronde, dead set on taking his position to move the ship. Cas’s eyes were as wide as Evie’s felt as her heart thrummed in her chest.
“Lieutenant Uuma, prepare to fire,” Greene said, his brows forming a deep “v”. He knew, and he was doing it anyway. Evie glanced at Cas whose face was a mixture of concern and confusion. “Mr. Box, would you be so kind as to take the helm from the ensign. No offense Mr. Ronde, but as I understand it, this might get rough.” Ronde glanced at Box, then at the captain and stood, making room for the robot to take his place.
“Thanks,” Box said as they exchanged a glance.
“Sir, you knew?” Evie asked.
He leaned over to her. “I suspected when I spoke with Ensign Tileah. The real ensign Tileah.” He shot Cas a glance. “Commander, please take your post. This will strain our engines and I need to make sure they don’t blow out on us.” Cas looked as though he was about to say something, but instead did as he was told and manned the bridge engineering station. Greene turned back to her. “As wrong as it is, in this case it’s the right call. And I didn’t realize that until it was almost too late. I was prepared to send the Lieutenant down there to arrest him until I realized the absurdity of it all. I was following a set of rules laid out by the Coalition that weren’t designed to take into account extreme situations such as this. We have to be willing to adapt with the times. Tempest must be allowed to complete her mission.”
At first she thought she’d gone mad. Cordell Greene, respected captain of the Coalition using a trans-dimensional weapon in an area of space where it would cut off not one but two entire civilizations from the rest of the galaxy? It made sense for a renegade like Cas and someone with a different moral code like Zenfor. But the captain? Wasn’t his reasoning the same as hers? Hadn’t they all come to the same eventual conclusion? The Coalition wasn’t always right, it wasn’t doctrine. Cas knew that better than any of them. And so—it seemed—did the captain. “What about the consequences?”
He turned back to the screen. “We’ll deal with those when we reach them. I don’t make this decision lightly, Commander. But it’s the right call. May the universe forgive us.” He turned his attention to Lieutenant Uuma. “Fire.”
39
A bright red comet streaked across the screen in front of them, locked on the pinpoint of light. Cas watched it grow closer and closer, still unable to believe what had just happened. Greene had come through for them after all. He’d been wrong, the man wasn’t like Rutledge at all. He only wished this endeavor hadn’t cost them three good crew members. Silently, he said his goodbye to Suzanna as he watched.
“Mr. Box, can you rotate us around? We need to be in optimal position,” Greene asked.
“Working on it, the controls are not up to my optimum standards,” he replied.
“Ensign. Is our course out of this area of space plotted?” he asked River.
“Aye. We’ll have to skirt the edge of the nebula. Based on projections, the affected area will be approximately eight light-years in circumference. We’ll need to fly at full speed for fifteen hours to escape it.”
“Robeaux?” Cas glanced at his screens. They still had full engine power and everything looked good from engineering, as long as it all held. The engines had been under strain for a couple days now, he hoped when the creature released them everything didn’t snap back with additional force. It could damage or even destroy the undercurrent drive.
“We’re as good as we’ll ever be,” he replied. They all watched the red comet shrink into the distance, until it was no longer visible.
“Lieutenant?” Greene asked.
“Still on course, sir. But it’s passed out of our visual range. Whatever that—” There was a bright red flash on the screen and the ship shook, nearly throwing Cas from his seat.
“The field has dropped,” Box said. “Engaging undercurrent drive.”
Everything on Cas’s screen jumped to the red. He hit his comm. “Zenfor, are you still in weapons?”
“Yes, with Tileah,” she said.
“Get to engineering. They’re going to need your help.” Every system was showing overloads as the pull they’d been exerting had suddenly released. It was what he’d been afraid of. It was like that old game of tug-of-war. When one side finally won, everyone on the winning side fell over each other still pulling. The engines were experiencing something similar.
“Very well,” came her reply. She was probably apprehensive about working with Tyler but this was no time for bickering.
“Commander?” Greene asked.
“Working on it,” he said, doing his best to keep the levels even. If he could help them regulate things from up here it would take some of the pressure off and they could focus on the actual equipment down there.
“We’re slowing,” Box said. “Undercurrent drive is only at eighty percent.”
“It won’t be enough,” River added. “Space is already starting to destabilize behind us.”
Cas chanced a look at the screen, seeing nothing but a field of red closing in on them. Frantic, he returned to his monitors, but there was only so much he could do from up here.
“I’ve arrived,” Zenfor said.
“Talk to Sesster. Get the engines back up to ninety. We won’t clear the field otherwise,” he said. There was no response on the other end. “Consul? Did you catch that?” He glanced at Evie and the captain. “Consul?”
***
Zenfor had entered into a flurry of activity. Humans ran around, yelling things at each other while Sesster, in his cradle at the back of engineering, used all of his appendages to work different systems. A cursory evaluation of the situation determined the undercurrent emitters were losing power and the ship would either be thrown from the tunnel or crushed by it before it could escape the shockwave generated by the missile. They needed to reset the emitters while they were still moving.
Your grasp of our technology is impressive.
The voice in her head startled her for a moment, before she remembered the
Claxians were telepaths. She stared at the commander, the only person on this ship she feared disappointing. He was one of the reasons she’d agreed to come on this journey. The Sil knew little to nothing about Claxians, due to their reclusive nature and the fact many didn’t leave their homeworld.
Thank you, she replied. Do you wish for me to assist?
I fear what will happen if you do not.
Zenfor broke into a trot over to the master display system in the middle of the room. Ensign Tyler was already there, his face covered with perspiration and his features pulled tight. He didn’t think they would make it. “Ensign,” she said, commanding his attention. He stared at her as if he didn’t recognize her. “We need to reset your undercurrent emitters while we are still moving. You will reset them one at a time, while I rotate your containment field at a fast-enough rate of speed that the undercurrent won’t collapse.”
“What?” he asked, a dazed look in his eyes. “Oh. Sesster says the field isn’t strong enough to—” He rubbed his head. “—to handle that kind of force.”
“I will make it stronger,” she replied, accessing the field geometry.
“Hey, how do you know how to do that?” He crossed over to her.
“I’ve been studying you for weeks. Your interfaces are primitive and easy to understand.” She began warping the field geometry, using equations often used on Sil ships. Here she was again, sharing more of her people’s technology with this inferior culture. Yet she had no choice.
I’ve never seen geometry like that before. It’s enough to work.
“He says—”
“I heard him,” Zenfor replied, finishing the equations. “Now, shut down emitter one and reset. The field should hold.”
Tyler nodded, making his way back over to his original station. “Shutting down one. Magnus, Sophie, keep an eye on the outputs. We can’t drop below eighty percent.”
“One has been reset, move to two,” Zenfor said. She adjusted the equations to compensate for the fact emitter one was now at full capacity. The undercurrent was holding.
Impressive. Your manipulation of the undercurrent is unlike any I’ve seen before.
Thank you. That’s a compliment coming from a Claxian. Zenfor was fully aware the Claxians were the primary reason most of the other species in the Coalition were spaceborne. Their advanced technology—while not as advanced as the Sil—had given them the edge above many other species. However, unlike the Sil the Claxians had decided to share it with their neighbors.
“Two is reset, moving to three,” Tyler said.
“Output is at eighty-four percent,” the human named Magnus yelled. Zenfor glanced at him, he was the same one who had ridiculed her at the goodbye ceremony. But instead of an urge to rip his head from his shoulders she only felt sorry for him. That he couldn’t understand the deep meaning of the ceremony itself. Some humans got it, such as Caspian. Others, such as Magnus, never would.
“Three is reset, last one,” Tyler said. He wiped his brow with his sleeve. “I think this is actually going to work.”
This Coalition hadn’t been what she’d expected. Seeing these different species working together, Claxian, human, Dorsai, Untuburu, it stirred something inside her. None of these species could have accomplished what they had on their own. It was only by pooling themselves together that they had survived. And hadn’t that been what she’d tried to tell Caspian earlier? That they needed to adapt to survive? She thought back to her own people, subjugating the other space-capable races inside Sil space just because they hadn’t reached the same level of technological advancement as the Sil. And she was reminded of Zakria, who died because she didn’t fit. Zenfor made a decision.
“Ensign, please realign the undercurrent emitters to these specifications I’m sending you,” she said, programming a new set of calculations into the computer.
“But all the emitters are reset, we’re almost back to full power,” he said.
“Trust me,” she replied.
Consul? What is your plan?
To pool our resources. “Ready Ensign?”
He nodded. “Everything is in, but I don’t see what—”
She tapped the initiate controls and the ship lurched forward. Sesster’s voice returned to her head. I see. This is very clever and after it is all over, I wish to discuss the implications with you further.
I would like that as well, she thought.
“Engineering, what’s happening?” Cas’s voice yelled over the comm. “Engineering, respond!” Zenfor could feel herself being pulled against the artificial gravity in the room. She’d forgotten to use the ship’s dampeners to compensate. She quickly made an adjustment and the pull on them eased. Tyler let go of the master systems display, his knuckles white.
“Engineering, we’re shutting down, we can’t—”
She reached over and tapped the comm. “Hold your course. Mr. Box, don’t stop flying. Commander Sesster and I have an understanding.”
“Ensign?” This time it was Captain Greene. “Is this true?”
Tyler stared at her a moment. “Yes, sir, she and the Commander know what they’re doing.”
“Acknowledged,” Greene’s voice said. Tyler’s eyes were wide with amazement as he watched the data on his screens.
“How did you do this?” he asked.
“If there is one thing my people know, it is how to travel long distances.” She smiled at him, something she’d never thought she’d find herself doing with the one human who had antagonized her more than any other. “Think of it as my contribution to the mission.”
Tyler smiled back. “Thank you.”
40
“So, you mean to tell me we’re on the other side of the Excel Nebula,” Greene said. He sat at the head of the conference table surrounded by Cas, Evie, Ensign Tyler, Lieutenant Zaal and Zenfor, who was the only one who hadn’t taken a seat.
“Yes, sir. We’ve traveled over ten light-years in less than an hour, far beyond the distance we needed to avoid the effects of the trans-dimensional weapon,” Tyler reported.
“And exactly how was this possible?” he asked, leaning in.
“By opening micro wormholes in rapid succession along our flight path using Tempest’s undercurrent emitters. We stayed within the undercurrent, I just made it a lot faster.” Zenfor replied.
To say Cas was astounded would be putting it mildly. Zenfor had found a way not only to get them far beyond the blast radius, but on the other side of the nebula. It normally would have taken them days to get through it, and they’d managed it in a fraction of the time. Not only that, but she’d finally managed to work with some of the rest of the crew. When he’d questioned her about it after they’d come to the bridge, all she had said was she saw a problem needing solving and so she solved it.
“Does this mean we can use the technology again?” Greene asked. “Can we make more jumps?”
Zenfor nodded. “We’ll be able to reach your destination much quicker. But it will have to be in bursts. Your emitters can’t handle sustained accelerations.”
“Why didn’t you do this before now?” he asked.
“I was following my own codex. I was only to help you improve your own technology, not impose my own on yours. But the situation required adaptation. There could be far-reaching consequences for my actions.”
“I believe we’re all in that boat,” Greene replied. “How much time does that cut off our trip?”
“Practically all of it, sir. We can be at Omicron Terminus in nine days,” Tyler said, his eyes alight with excitement.
“Which includes breaks to cool the emitters,” Zenfor added.
“Yes, sorry. By using this we’ll have to shut down periodically to allow the emitters to reset,” Tyler nodded to Zenfor appreciatively. Cas couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Greene sat back in his chair. “And Sesster. What does he think of all this?”
“He wants to examine the technology further,” Tyler said. “Spend a few days unde
rstanding the basic science behind it before we fully implement it.”
“A sensible precaution.” Greene glanced at Evie. “Now that we’re ahead of schedule I think we’ll be making a stop at Cypaxia in a few days—or is it only hours now? Let’s take some time to regroup when we get there.” Cas noticed Evie’s shoulders relax. What was on Cypaxia? Sure, it was on their route, but it wasn’t a particularly important Coalition world. Though they would have orbital facilities for the ship if necessary. “And status of the creature?”
“No further signals and no sign of the creature itself or the tear in space,” Zenfor reported. “My scans were clear after the missile did its job.”
“Then let’s hope that’s the end of it, and the loss of our crew will be the last that have to suffer at its hands. Commander,” he said, turning to Evie. “Please prepare funeral services. I want to honor each of our friends in turn.”
“Yes, sir.” She snuck a quick glance at Cas. Their eyes met and hers fell away before he had a chance to register her facial expression.
Greene addressed Tyler. “Ensign, you’re dismissed.” He nodded, rising and giving another appreciative look to Zenfor before exiting. “Now, it seems, I have to make an uncomfortable call to the admiral. Coalition sensors will no doubt have picked up the use of the weapon by now. There might be an escort waiting for us when we get to Cypaxia.”
Cas turned to him. “Sir, you need to blame me.”
Greene arched an eyebrow. “I appreciate your sacrifice Commander, but—”
“No, sir. You don’t understand. I resigned my commission before I helped Zenfor prepare and launch the missile. I was acting as a Coalition citizen and nothing more.” Greene exchanged glances with Evie. “Look, the only way this works and the two of you aren’t court-martialed is if you blame it on me. It makes sense, I betrayed you again. You had no knowledge of the missile. No one did except for me and Zenfor. I think Ensign Tileah down in weapons will work with us.”
“Commander, you do realize as captain I am responsible for all those under my command, no matter the choices they make?”