Stranger Suns

by George Zebrowski

  “Either that or go back and try more domes.”

  Juan nodded. “We have little choice.” Sorrowfully, he tried to imagine what Magnus would have thought. Was it linked to the domes as part of some project? He started up the slope, boots catching on the ribbed surface. Lena came up on his right, Mal on his left, and linked arms with him. The cluster stars merged as he looked up through teary eyes.

  “It's colder,” Lena said as they made their way upward in the rising wind. The sloping surface began to seem like a treadmill after a while. The green glowing desert was sullen with shadows as aurorae danced on the horizon.

  The wind died away.

  “That's a relief,” Lena said. “Let's rest.”

  They sat down and braced their feet on the ridges. Juan breathed deeply and leaned back against his pack. After a moment, he reached down and rapped his knuckles on the alien surface. “Seems like the same stuff the ship is made of.”

  “There's something here, but I don't think it's a ship,” Malachi said.

  They were silent for a few moments. “You were beginning to feel closer to Magnus, weren't you?” Lena asked.

  Juan nodded. “Sticking his hand in that cubbyhole saved our lives. He had a way of looking at things. The ship, of course, but I felt that he was also looking into me.”

  “He told me,” Lena said, “that he considered himself a failure.”

  “I guess I thought that at first.”

  “He was a father-figure to me,” Lena murmured, leaning forward and hugging her knees, “even though I only saw him once or twice a year.”

  Juan glanced at her. “My father died of a stroke, just before I graduated from high school. I'd just found out a day earlier that the university was giving me a full scholarship.”

  “Magnus did his best,” Malachi said, “right up to the end. He would have been a special friend to us.”

  “We have to get back,” Juan said, trying to sound decisive, “to make something of all this.” The words seemed hopeless, but he felt that he had to say them. He closed his eyes and imagined the roots of the alien tree piercing Magnus's heart and brain, slowly reviving the body, and shuddered from unexpressed grief.

  * * *

  A moment passed and Juan awoke. Lena stirred against him. The dwarf sat on the horizon, lighting up the desert like a dim bulb in a dusty closet. Juan felt stiff but refreshed.

  Lena sat up and checked her watch. “Eleven hours.”

  “We were exhausted,” Malachi said, standing up. “Fortunately, the wind died away and the temperature went up. It may get hot.”

  Lena drank some water, then handed the canteen to Juan. He gulped some down and gave it to Malachi.

  “Anyone hungry?” she asked as Juan got to his feet.

  “I'm not,” he said, helping her up.

  “No—let's be off,” Malachi added.

  They went forward three abreast. “It seems to be leveling off,” Malachi said. “I think we're near the center.”

  They came to the edge of a large bowl in the surface. “Must be fifty meters across,” Juan said.

  “There's an opening below!” Malachi shouted, pointing. “And ribs by which we can descend.”

  “What is it?” Lena asked.

  “Perhaps it's a vent,” Malachi said, “or an entrance of some kind. I'll go first.”

  He started down slowly. Juan waited a few moments, then started after him. He looked up when he was a few meters down, and watched Lena start her descent.

  Malachi reached the bottom of the bowl and approached the opening at the center. He knelt and was peering down when Juan reached him.

  “The ridges run down the side,” he said as Lena joined them. “We have to keep going while our water lasts.”

  “He's right,” she said.

  Malachi climbed down into darkness. Juan glanced at Lena. She gave him a sad look and followed. He waited, then sat down and found the ridges with his feet. He turned around and stood up on the first rung as the white dwarf crept up over the edge of the bowl. The sky had taken on a greenish-blue hue, reminding him of construction paper he had played with as a boy.

  “Everyone okay?” Malachi shouted from below.

  “Yes,” Lena called out.

  “On my way,” Juan answered, probing for the next step.

  “I'll shine a light as soon as I reach bottom!” Malachi added.

  Juan descended a dozen rungs and stopped.

  “Bottom!” Malachi cried. “Hold still.”

  A beam of light stabbed up through the shaft. Juan glimpsed Lena making her way down. He looked up, and for an instant thought he might see Magnus above him.

  “I'm down!” Lena cried.

  He hurried after her and jumped the last rung. Malachi was examining the chamber with his torch. The beam found an exit. “Follow me,” he said.

  Lena went after him. Juan brought up the rear. They came out into a large white glowing dome. Malachi turned off his light.

  “There seems to be no way out,” Malachi said.

  “Circle the edge,” Juan replied.

  They made their way around. Malachi stopped. “Here's an oval.” He stepped forward and the portal glowed. He stepped back and turned to Juan. “Shall we risk it?”

  Juan looked at Lena. She nodded. “We've come this far.”

  Malachi took a deep breath. “So be it.” He triggered the glow and disappeared.

  “Come on,” Juan said to Lena, taking her hand.

  They stepped through—

  —into a dark space.

  His eyes adjusted, and he saw Malachi on the other side of the dimly lit oval chamber, standing before a large square frame of some kind.

  “Looks like a window into nowhere,” he said as they came up beside him. He stepped closer and peered in. “What do you think, Juan?” He flashed his light into the blackness. The beam disappeared.

  Lena said, “Toss something through.”

  Juan took out a pack of chewing gum, removed one stick, and threw it in. The foil glittered in Malachi's beam and disappeared in midparabola.

  “It's a way into someplace,” Malachi said. “Where else can we go?” He stepped into the frame and vanished before Juan or Lena could reply.

  Lena took Juan's hand again as they stared into the frame. “He's gone too long,” she said after a while.

  A light appeared and Malachi stepped out.

  “What's there?” Juan asked.

  “You'll see. Follow me.” He turned and stepped through again.

  Juan and Lena walked through—

  —into a lighted space. Juan saw the shuttle sitting in its dock.

  “We're back in the suncore,” Malachi said, grinning, “in our ship's shuttle bay.”

  “The bowl in the desert!” Lena exclaimed. “It's a dock for the shuttle.”

  “More than that,” Malachi said. “Our ship's shuttle connects with a transmat installation on the planet below.”

  “But why have both?” she asked.

  Juan understood. “The transmat frame was a later development, but even such an advanced system needs ships to set up terminals.”

  Lena looked puzzled. “But why didn't the shuttle leave us off at the bowl instead of the desert?”

  “Good question,” Malachi answered.

  “Something may have wanted us to get lost and find our way back,” he said bitterly, thinking of Magnus. He turned around and looked into the black frame. “We didn't notice this when we were in here before.”

  Malachi said, “This may not be the only such frame.”

  “Do you think it's a matter transmitter?” Juan asked, staring into the blackness.

  “It could be a direct bridge,” Malachi replied, “or a transmission of our patterns across some form of short-space, in which case we're destroyed and recreated every time we pass through. No way to tell, since we're the only ones remembering.”

  “But if there are other transmat frames,” Lena said, “then there may be a way home.” Sh
e looked fearful for a moment. “Can we be sure this is our ship?”

  “We'll know,” Juan said, “if we find our other packs where we left them.”

  14. TRANSMAT

  Juan said, “I don't think we can go back up the drop tube.”

  “There's got to be another exit,” Lena said, looking around the bay. “There it is.” She pointed to an exit indentation to the right of the shuttle.

  Juan approached. It glowed and he—

  —went through into the ship's winding passage. Lena and Malachi came out behind him.

  “We're somewhere below the drop tube,” he said, “and probably below our drum-shaped chamber.” At his right, the passage seemed to descend even farther. He started upward, with Lena and Malachi at his left. “We're lucky the big ship didn't leave the station.”

  Lena said, “I have a feeling that this is the end of the line for it.”

  * * *

  After eating, they retreated from the cafeteria to the pit, and found the other two packs where they had left them. Juan settled down to sleep, feeling safe in the amber glow.

  “The web is a vast maze,” Malachi was saying as Juan awoke, feeling that he had slept only a few minutes. “The short-space arteries through which power courses to the ships can channel travelers directly. It's more elegant. Ships were used to set up the bridges, if that's what they are, and to reach local points. Of course, ships would continue to draw power from web stars and would be used to service transmat frames at distant points. We've seen two kinds of interstellar transport systems. The ship system was replaced, which was inevitable once hyperspace was entered to place core accumulators inside suns. The final step was implicit—send passengers directly through short-space, as with power transmission.”

  “Good morning,” Lena said as Juan raised his head. She was sitting cross-legged on her sleeping bag. Malachi lay on his side, propping himself up on one elbow.

  Juan asked, “How far do you think they got?”

  Malachi gestured with his free hand. “It seems they would have installed bridge frames at all terminals.”

  Lena said, “If a starship carried a bridge frame, then it would be linked to core stations, and through them to countless worlds.”

  Malachi sat up. “Exactly—which means all the worlds of the starcrossers are open to us.”

  “We know only one set of linked frames,” Juan said, “but there may be a frame on Earth, or at least in our solar system. Somewhere in this core station or on that planet there may be a bridge frame leading to another station or stations that connect with Earth. We found this ship there, so perhaps it came to Earth for that purpose.”

  Lena stood up suddenly. “There may be a frame for Earth somewhere in the ship!”

  Malachi said, “And very possibly there's a core station in our sun.”

  “If they finished the job,” Juan answered, sitting up.

  “Consider this, old fellow,” Malachi continued. “The ships went in pairs to do the job, like chaps who string wire, or some such thing. One vessel would have a transmat bridge on board, just to check out the new connecting frame after it's been installed. Construction crews could then pass quickly between ships when they were out on the job, even if the ships were at different points on the same planet or at the other end of a solar system. Each ship would also have an interstellar bridge frame linked to core stations, as we've seen, and the core stations themselves would be joined.”

  “Then there may very well be a second ship on Earth,” Juan said, “connected to this one.”

  “We'll find the frame,” Lena said excitedly.

  “It could be anywhere,” Malachi said, “in the chambers along the passage above us, or below us.”

  “Just imagine,” Lena continued. “I might leave Earth by one frame, emerge on one of the web worlds, and find a link with this station by looking it up in some sort of directory.”

  Juan stood up and stretched. “I wonder if the frames are preset, or if they can be adjusted.”

  “We never see any controls,” Malachi answered.

  “It's possible,” Juan said, “that the frames open into core stations only, or into inconveniently placed ships. Maybe they never finished the system.”

  “We'll worry about that later,” Lena replied. “Where do we start our search? From the outer lock, or from here on down to the end of the passage? Shall we stick together or split up?”

  “Are we in a rush?” Malachi asked.

  “I have an idea,” Juan said. “Let's follow the passage to its end, which should be somewhere below the exit to the shuttle bay.”

  “What do you expect to find there?” Malachi asked.

  “Maybe nothing, but that's where the shuttle bay is. A bridge frame counts as a major transport facility, and we found a frame in the bay, so maybe there are others nearby.”

  Malachi smiled. “It's worth a try, despite the bad reasoning.”

  “If we find nothing,” Juan said, “then we'll have no choice but to start on the chambers at the bottom and work up to the lock.”

  * * *

  Beyond the exit to the shuttle bay, the passage suddenly ran straight. They hurried forward. It turned left and ended with an oval at least ten times larger than any they had yet seen in the ship.

  “Shall we go in?” Malachi asked.

  “We have no choice,” Juan answered, glancing at Lena.

  They stepped forward together—

  —and passed into darkness.

  Juan turned on his light and cast the beam from left to right. Six black frames gaped at them from the perimeter of the chamber, mirrorlike but reflecting nothing. Each frame in the round chamber was large enough to admit a truck.

  “We'll try them all,” Lena said, “each of us separately. If one of us doesn't come back, the other two will be warned.”

  “Either we hang separately or together,” Malachi said.

  “There's no way to judge danger,” Lena added, “but we shouldn't risk three lives to reconnoiter. I don't expect anything will happen, based on what we've seen, but we should be cautious.”

  “I'll go first,” Malachi said, turning on his torch. He went to the first frame from the left.

  As he stepped through, his figure seemed to flatten, and he slipped into the blackness like a sheet of paper. Lena took a deep breath; Juan tensed as they waited.

  Malachi emerged from the frame. “It's a dark passage,” he said, “and branches about a hundred meters in. I felt my weight drop significantly. No point in exploring now, until we know something about the others.”

  “I'll try the next one,” Juan said.

  Lena brushed his arm as he moved away. “Be careful.”

  He faced the blackness and stepped through. Warm, stale air entered his lungs, but he was able to breathe it. He cast his beam in a circle and saw that the chamber was identical to the one he had just left.

  He turned and went back through the second frame. Lena and Malachi grabbed his shoulders as he staggered out.

  “I'm all right. Just a little dizzy. The air's warm in there.”

  They released him. “What was it?” Lena asked.

  “Same as this, including six frames.”

  “It could be another ship,” Malachi said. “And it might be somewhere on Earth. You might have gone home and not known it.”

  We deserve some mercy, Juan thought. One life was payment enough. He hated the snake of superstition slipping through him. It was not a matter of payments. Earth might be there, like walking from one room to another, and it would be a matter of chance that they had found it, nothing more. He felt guilty and said, “It doesn't seem right to abolish distance so easily.”

  “Easily?” Malachi asked. “Countless suns provide the energy to pry open space-time in this way. Dearly bought, I'd say, with a million years of bloody evolution behind the species that did it, not to mention centuries of scientific and engineering work.”

  “I don't know,” Juan said. “Something happened,
we know that. . .” He felt dizzy again, and Malachi caught him. “I can stand,” he said after a moment.

  “You were saying?” Malachi asked.

  “Forget it.”

  “We should get our gear,” Lena said, “before exploring further.”

  “She's right,” Malachi added. “Better to have our packs handy now.”

  “We can get them,” Juan said, feeling as if he were about to lose everything. “There's no rush.”

  * * *

  He put on his pack and looked around in the amber glow of the pit, feeling that chance was poised to rob them of their new hope.

  “We'll leave Magnus's kit,” Malachi said. “We may need it if we have to come back.”

  “Ready?” Lena asked.

  Juan felt a pang of sorrow as he looked at the pack on the floor. “Let's go,” he said bitterly, then hurried up the incline and slipped through the glow. Lena and Malachi came out behind him. We may be going home, he told himself as he led the way down the passage—to a choking, barking, hate-filled world that didn't deserve to have new doors opened for it.

  15. STAR WEB

  They stood before the frames. Juan imagined a maze of black snakes weaving in and out of a million suns. Ghostly material flowed through, reassembling into solidity at ports of call, draining suns to break the tyranny of space-time.

  “Perhaps we should try the other four,” Lena said.

  “Later, if this one doesn't work out,” Juan replied. “This one may connect with a ship somewhere near home.”

  “But you didn't leave the chamber,” Malachi objected, “so it may be anywhere.”

  “It was identical to this one. That can't be a coincidence. We'll find out quickly enough.”

  He cast his beam into the second frame. They went through together. Juan breathed in slowly as they emerged. Turning around, he swept the frames with his torch. “Six frames.”

  Malachi turned toward the exit. “This will tell the story.”

  The oval glowed and they passed through—

  —into a dark passage. Juan took a deep breath of cooler air.

  “It's the identical straight section,” Malachi said. “We're in another ship, but where?”

  “My weight feels unchanged,” Lena said.