Other laser and maser cannons began firing at it. He checked the readouts, ensuring the weapon was ready. From behind, another sound came—jet fighters—their air support was approaching. He began firing.
He saw air-to-ground missiles ramming into the staple ship. He could not believe how much fire the alien was taking, and, so far, to no effect.
The staple ship passed their position and Dolton turned and kept firing, striking the ship on the downward protrusion facing him. The alien was firing back. Two of the green sheets of energy had come their way—both of them had passed over their heads.
The staple ship was about to pass a hill taking it out of Dolton’s view when it happened.
The downward protrusion facing him was being hit in roughly the same spot by at least six maser and laser cannons. Two fighter missiles hit the same approximate area and the lower part of the wing broke away. The alien ship fell, passing out of view.
The hill saved their lives.
The world went white and Dolton felt himself flying through the air. As the white faded, he hit the rubble and bounced across it, jarring to a stop. Except for a high-pitched ringing in his ears, it was completely silent. He was lying on his stomach. He tried to raise himself, but pain shot through one arm and he toppled back down. He looked at the arm, but after-images burned into his eyes from the explosion made it hard to see. He could, however, make out that his arm was bent where it shouldn’t be. He turned his head and looked the other way.
The steady squealing in his ears and the complete silence beyond made everything seem surreal. Sweat was running into his eyes making them burn, but he could see well enough.
Beyond the hill, a bright mushroom cloud rose into the sky.
He smelled a metallic burning smell… red light came from everywhere…
Dolton woke up. He was shaken by the hiber-dream… not the dream so much as, it had been real to him… the waking up and finding himself here was what shook him to the core. He lay there for five-minutes before he tried moving.
He had set his pod to wake up an hour before the others to give him time to shake off the effects and to get his pod back into hiber-sleep without him in it.
The rail was cold as he pushed himself up and out. He was freezing and for a few minutes shivered uncontrollably until his blood was circulating.
Where was his damn coffee and donut? They always had coffee and a donut waiting for him. He laughed at himself… not today.
He stomped his feet and rubbed his hands together.
He first looked at Adamarus’, Radin’s and the three crewmember’s pods. All were closed and engaged. So far, so good. Then he looked around. It was spooky. It was totally quiet and still except for the sound of the air vents.
Well, time was ticking and he had to get his hiber-pod back under before they got up.
He got to work.
He was done and hidden with time to spare.
The others got up right on time. From where he was, he couldn’t hear what they were saying but sounded like they were arguing as they walked out and took the shuttle to the bridge.
Dolton followed them to the bridge, but once again he was locked out.
---
Adamarus was nervous. This was larger than the last one.
Suddenly the entire huge ship started vibrating.
Bugs voice came over the com, “We’re too close to the 45-degree angle we discussed.”
Bugs had told the bridge crew that due to the powerful time gradient inside, spacetime was fractured at a 45-degree angle and the ship had to stay off that angle.
“Adjusting,” Radin said. “Okay, we’re in position.”
“Do it,” Adamarus said.
---
Hidden, waiting outside, Dolton decided with an angry nod, this was crap. He’d go back to the hibernation chamber, wait for them and just ask them what the hell they were doing.
As he was walking back, he passed one of the chambers with a viewing port and he decided to see if he could see anything outside. He certainly didn’t expect to. For years they’d been in between galactic groups in abyssal space. Without the aid of optics and computers linked to sensors, the human eye only saw blackness. Sometimes distant galaxies could be seen with the naked eye but rarely. That was why he was shocked to see so many stars. So many that they merged together into a continuous light.
And then he saw it. A massive smearing of light that looked oddly optical. A black hole. It’s event horizon!
He could now make out the accretion disk but after only a second his view of the outside completely changed. Nemeses was now within what looked like a mercury bubble with a bright light at the center of it.
Then, outside the view port, everything changed again. The mercury-like walls of the bubble flew away so fast he could not tell if what he saw was an optical illusion or real. The central light was exploding outward below him as the ship was being thrust up and away.
What was he seeing? Was he going mad?
The ship kept rising and more and more he could see what was actually around the ship. It was a spiral galaxy. The center was exploding outward. Had the Blackship done it? No. He knew better. Nemesis had done it.
The utterly slow but certain death of an entire galaxy! Why?
He screamed and shook as the ungodly cataclysm raged below Nemesis. Then he ran to revive Whitehall.
The General had been right after all.
---
Whitehall dreamed…
He sat on a rock on a hill in the middle of a wasteland. He lit another cigarette and took a long puff. He could still feel the shot of bourbon. It, along with the feel of the black box in his side pocket and the dry, hot wind in his face, made him feel kind of Godlike. The tinny chatter from the earbud connected to the radio seemed appropriate for the barren landscape that stretched out around him as far as the eye could see.
He glanced over at the jeep. Johnny had his head tilted back, his eyes closed.
Whitehall lifted the binoculars and found the three pale white football shaped objects, and just as he did, he heard what he’d been waiting to hear come through the earbud.
“Entering orbit—preparing for departure.”
He flicked his cigarette away and pulled the black box out of his pocket. A gust of wind almost blew his cap off, and he pulled it down tight on his head.
Focus or die, motherfucker!
He slowly reached down and unsnapped his gun holster then re-focused on the black box. He turned it on, but the LED was impossible to see through his sunglasses in the bright light. He smiled, everything is fighting me on this, he thought. He slowly took off his sunglasses and placed them in his shirt pocket. He still couldn’t see the LED. Everything. He cuffed his hand around the LED—yes, the device was on, and yes, it was in contact with all three units. He took a breath then pushed the red button.
The black box emitted an incredibly precise radio signal that radiated out in every direction at the speed of light. Point two three seven seconds later, it repeated the signal.
Whitehall didn’t know if the initial flash from the devices would hurt a person’s eyes or not, so to be careful, he looked down at the black box and his hands after pushing the button. With gratification, he watched his hands light up. After the initial flash, he looked up. He expected to see three explosions, but realized when he saw the single expanding fireball that the ships had been too close together.
From behind, he heard feet hit the ground and walk toward him. Johnny was saying, “What the hell was that? Was…was that one of the arks?”
Whitehall calmly set the black box down. “Not just one…all three.”
As Johnny walked up beside Whitehall, he slowly rose and drew his revolver in a single smooth action. As he turned toward Johnny, the boy was looking at Whitehall’s face saying, “Did you…did you do…”
The sound of the gunshot rolled into the emptiness of the barren landscape and a round hole appeared in Johnny’s forehead, a stream of red and
white gore exploded from the back of his head. He hit the ground before the stream of blood and brains did. He never saw the gun.
Whitehall holstered the weapon and retrieved the black box. Walking around the body and the spattered mess, he got into the jeep, started it and drove off. He knew that time was running out.
Red lights, a metallic smell…
Whitehall opened his eyes to the tortured face of Matt Dolton.
After a moment, Whitehall smiled.
---
Adamarus said, “Okay, we’re on course and should be a safe distance away when first shift wakes.”
“Back to the pods,” Radin said, and everyone groaned.
They all walked to the door and opened it and gasped.
Armed marines surround them aiming their weapons at them.
Whitehall strode forward, “All of you are under arrest.”
“What for?”
“Look outside,” Whitehall said, “we have no name for such a heinous crime.”
“How about refueling,” Adamarus deadpanned. He wasn’t in the mood for this but was quickly coming to see they were in more trouble than he gave the situation credit for.
“What!” Whitehall demanded.
“We need to talk,” Adamarus said.
“Oh,” Whitehall said, “we are definitely going to talk.”
Adamarus deeply regretted not heeding Radin’s warning about Whitehall. He did not know how Whitehall had managed it but Radin had hit the nail on the head.
They were escorted to Nemesis City’s Jail. Mostly used for crewmembers having too much to drink, the cells were right up against the city’s bedrock, the raw Nemesis material that all the chambers were made out of.
They could only sit on the floor.
---
Evelyn was in shock. She couldn’t believe what she was being told about Adamarus and Radin and some other bridge crewmembers. Why would they do what the Spiral Slayers themselves do? Nemesis’ purpose was stopping the Slayers from doing just what Adamarus and Radin were caught doing.
She made her way down to where Adamarus was being held and looked through the gate that contained him. He sat there with his head in his hands. “Why?” she asked.
---
Adamarus looked up and saw Evelyn standing outside the gate looking at him. She looked betrayed. He decided she had been. “It’s a long story, Evelyn.”
She stared at him a moment longer then turned and walked away.
---
Whitehall had a problem. The problem was the secret meeting. Adamarus had explained why they had to do what they did and… it happened to make perfect sense to Whitehall.
So… can’t divide, Whitehall thought, can I contain?
Who knew about Adamarus’ explanation and the secret meeting? The five in lockup and… Dolton.
---
Adamarus sat on the somewhat flexible, gray floor of his cell. At least Nemesis’ inner skin was always just the right temperature, and it was comfortable.
How had Whitehall known? How had he woken himself up?
Whitehall had interrogated them for hours. They had told the truth. Whitehall had seemed gleeful at first but as they explained what was going on, he looked more and more concerned. It had been strange. Matt Dolton had been with Whitehall and he had looked… well, disheveled would be an understatement.
He needed to try. He’d been thinking about it ever since it first happened. Now that they’d thrown him in here trying it had become imperative. He was counting on it working but he was afraid it would not. It was, after all, absolutely crazy.
He finally broke down and decided to do it. It was a stupid idea but ever since he had ordered (out loud he recalled) to be taken to Bugs and, instantly, the ship had seemed to take him there, he wanted to try it again. He just felt a little stupid, his bridge crew in the adjoining chambers would hear him.
Well if he was going to do this, he better do it right… whether it worked or not.
First, where did he want to go? Just outside the gate that held him? No… there were guards. The bridge…no. The armory? Yeah, but someone might be there? His quarters? Again, someone might be searching it for clues. Where? Then he knew. He envisioned how to get there, where it was and what it looked like.
He took a couple of deep breaths. He was actually afraid to try. Fuck it, he hollered the order, “Take me to The Spore.”
The floor rose and wrapped around him. Again, he was encased within the strange metal cylinder that seemed to spin around him. He felt wind on him. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it ended. The spinning metal seemed to melt away into the floor and he was right in front of the entrance of The Spore.
“Thanks,” he whispered not understanding what had happened but being very relieved that it had.
He looked around. As usual no one around. He ran up the ramp, entered his code and the door slid aside. He ran aboard and went straight to the armory.
---
Dolton did not know why Whitehall wanted to meet him at the chambers holding the bridge crew. He was still shaken by what he’d seen and what he’d uncovered. He rounded a corner and saw the General ahead in front of the entrance to the cells. He walked up to him, “Sir?”
“Dolton, we need more information on Adamarus’ story for doing this.”
“It seems pretty straightforward to me. Horrible but doing nothing is far worse… you can’t argue with the math.”
Whitehall raised his hand palm up and Dolton went first.
They walked down the huge hall to the even larger holding chambers, Whitehall walking behind Dolton.
Suddenly Dolton clearly heard Whitehall draw his sidearm and click off the safety. He drew his sidearm and ducked.
The first bullet hit him in the back. He stretched out his gun arm and tried to spin but could not. The second bullet hit him in the back of the head. He fell and died.
Whitehall needed to kill the five prisoners now. He starred at Dolton’s body as he marched down the hall with purpose.
But then he came to a sudden halt. All five prisoners were loose and armed and pointing their guns at him.
Whitehall stood there not knowing what to do. He was looking down at Dolton’s body. He had lowered his gun. The position Dolton’s body had wound up in gave the General an idea. He pointed at Dolton’s body with his gun and said, “He came here to kill Adamarus.”
And indeed, the way Dolton had fallen when he died, his gun was extended out towards Adamarus’ chamber. Whitehall holstered his gun. All the bridge crew still pointed their guns at Whitehall but seeing Dolton’s body they were now looking to Adamarus for guidance.
Whitehall walked casually forward and stood over Dolton’s body. “He just couldn’t handle it.”
Adamarus lowered his gun and motioned to the others to lower theirs.
Whitehall looked up, confusion on his face, “The order to release you could not have gotten down through channels this quickly. I came here to release you myself… when… I came upon Dolton. And how did you get armed?”
Adamarus came up to Whitehall and patted him on the back, “You saved my life, or at least thought you were. Thank you.”
“No problem,” Whitehall said as he sadly looked down at his second in command. One thing accomplished anyway. “But how…”
“General, with all due respect, that information is secret.”
Whitehall was in too much shock and relief that he wiggled out of losing his life and his aborted plan to kill everyone that he just stared down at Adamarus for a second then nodded.
---
“And so,” Adamarus said, “we either refueled like the Slayers were doing or we didn’t leave. They would have gone on destroying spiral galaxies as they have been doing for twelve billion years. An uncountable number of galaxies.”
“Or,” Adamarus was addressing everyone awake, “we destroy eight to twelve spirals refueling to catch and destroy them also limiting the damage they do to eight to twelve. So, it’s uncounta
ble spiral galaxies verses twenty-four or less.”
“We were faced with two bad choices. The math favored one over the other exponentially.”
It took several weeks, but everyone reluctantly agreed. It was ugly math but it was math. They would continue. Regarding keeping it a secret, almost everyone understood and many wished they had never found out.
Chapter Eleven – The Stow
“Time stops when you reach the speed of light. Therefore, to a photon, no time passes between its emission and absorption, it happens in the same instant. This is no matter the distance between the emitter and absorber—even if it’s from a star a billion light years away. That means that, to that photon, every time is the same time and every place is the same place.”
The Loud Named Bugs
Opening Speech, 23rd Amular Symposium on Quantum Physics
Source: The Archive
At 4.6 million normal years, 252,044 ship years and 53 experienced years Nemesis reached the second galactic group. It was an unnamed group of three spiral and two elliptical galaxies. The Blackship was still well ahead of them but they were catching up.
Adamarus woke up and starred at Evelyn who slept next to him.
After a moment Evelyn opened her eyes and said, “Your turn.”
Adamarus laughed, “Coffee coming up.”
They got up, dressed and walked to the bridge.
“I have the con,” Adamarus said.
Radin nodded, “Good morning.”
Adamarus smiled, “Good morning. Status?”
“They make it almost too easy for us,” Radin said. “They’ve taken the predictable spiral, the largest. If we refuel at this one,” Radin pointed to one of the smaller spirals, “we hardly go out of our way.”
“Let’s just catch them,” Adamarus said. “Set course and let’s go.”
“Yes sir,” Radin said.
---
Adamarus met Evelyn and Dora inside the Atrium. The day was gorgeous and, in the distance, rain was falling on the slopes of Mount Willard. He gotten there early and hiked the forest and picked two flowers. When the women arrived, he offered one to each of them. They gratefully took them, Dora placing it in her hair, Evelyn attaching it to her jacket.
Odyssey (The Spiral Slayers Book 3) Page 14