I was reluctant to move Al physically into the cube because there was always the possibility we'd need to blast off on Shearwater. It would be insane to leave him behind if we left in a rush, as in an oh-crap-here-come-the Uhoor rush. Before I could arrive at a solution, one gray day, we heard the call we'd dreaded for over a year.
Out of the blue, Al boomed, “Code Red. Battle Stations. Incoming unidentified spacecraft. All personnel to emergency stations.”
Is it an Uhoor? I asked in my head.
No, Captain, it's twelve Uhoor. ETA ten minutes.
Crap! The entire pod was coming calling. Not good. “Okay,” I yelled, “everybody to the cube. Everybody to the cube and make sure no one is left behind. Nine minutes, people. Hurry!”
We'd drilled that emergency countless times, so it went smoothly. Fortunately, no one was far from the village that particular day. Sapale supervised the transfer of all the infants, while JJ, Toño, and Fashallana rounded up the toddlers and older children. The Toe were easy to direct. They went wherever Dolirca did. Within five minutes, everyone was safe and sound inside the cube, the membranes were up, and the anchor was down. Marshall's android was the last to enter before I closed the walls. I had an impulse to close them sooner and let him stand out there alone. But that was too cruel for even me.
Everyone was pretty rattled, but we were safe for the time being. I figured we'd see what the Uhoor intended with all our defenses up. If they came to talk, not to fight, we could drop our guard accordingly. Of course, as a soldier I knew they weren't coming to negotiate or bring a casserole for our being new to the neighborhood. Not all twelve, unannounced. Given the absolute contempt the first one showed, there was no other logical conclusion but that this was a blood raid.
It had been all we could do to kill that one Uhoor. I was fairly certain we couldn't defend ourselves against twelve, even if the membrane bomb worked better than it should. Oh, I still hadn't come up with a radical name for the bomb yet. In my heart, I began to doubt I ever would. I tried to bolster my confidence by remembering all the battles I'd won when outnumbered and outclassed. None, however, were this lopsided. Oh well. I'd give ’em hell and would make sure they never forgot my name.
Soon the sky over our village was clouded with the blimp-like masses of the Uhoor. It was a terrifying sight. Even if they had been our best friends, they were still powerfully ugly and indisputably huge.
I had Al translate the message I'd prepared and blast it though the external speakers. Uhoor, this is Captain Jon Ryan of Shearwater. Please state your intentions.
The largest of the Uhoor descended from the circle above us. She spoke loudly, but not at nearly the volume Plo had. “I am Tho. I speak for the Uhoor. In your speech, you would say I am mother to all Uhoor.”
Shit, shit, shit! Mom was here to hand out justice—maternal justice. Now our impossible situation just became more hopeless. The worst part was Tho spoke in proper English. She sounded just like Mary Poppins, British upper-class accent and all. Man, it sucked that Mary Poppins was here to kill us.
I picked up the microphone and spoke to Mama Uhoor. “What are your intentions, Tho?”
She grunted something repeatedly that I feared was her version of a laugh. “Why, Jon, why is it you must ask?” More grunting, and the other blimps grunted too. Sons of hotdogs! “We are here to kill you. Why else would we come? You killed Plo. I can still smell him. We all still smell him. You dismembered him and burned what was left of our beloved Plo. Why else would we come?”
“Plo attacked us. He was the aggressor, and we killed him in self-defense. We had a right to defend our—”
“You have no rights. You cannot act in defense of yourselves. You are too insignificant to claim such a status. Plo was not the aggressor, because aggression against a trivial inferior such as yourself is not a valid concept. Could you, Jon, act aggressively toward a microbe? Toward a pebble?”
“I don't want to harm you, but I will not warn you again. Leave or die.” Sapale came up from behind and wrapped her arms around my waist. She was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.
“We think not. We think you will die now, all of you. Even the ones who may not be alive, those like you, Jon. Machines in human forms. Such a silly little species you were.”
“We were? Ah, you seeing more of us than those standing here?”
“Yes, there are asteroids full of them. After you are gone, we shall eliminate those humans too. None will remain. Plo must know he has been spoken for.”
Just exactly what I needed. The stakes just went from enormous to all-inclusive. Either I win a battle I should never be able to win, or the Uhoor would finish what Jupiter began.
Being as she was so specific and unequivocal in her declaration, I decided our parley was over. “Al, fire rail cannons at each Uhoor as rapidly as you can. After three seconds, pepper in infinity charges. Target each Uhoor with all the infinity-charges we've got. We won't get a second chance to make a first impression on these jokers.” Hey, I finally did come up with a bitchin' name for the membrane-bomb. I did good!
“Aye, aye.”
Silently, the atmosphere around us turned to a killing field. All the Uhoor initially recoiled, and large sections of them tore open, much as Plo had. Then the infinity charges lodged inside them. You know in the cartoons when a character swallows dynamite with a burning fuse, how they bulge up comically? That's exactly what the Uhoor did. Unfortunately, that's all they did. They didn't fly apart. In fact, with each successive ball or bomb, they reacted less and less until the weapons had almost no effect on them. That turn of events was most unwelcome.
Well, I was all in, so I went all in. I opened a tiny hole in a wall, stuck my right hand out, and fired my little finger laser at Tho. The results were not what I could have ever expected. She screamed, but it was not a scream of pain, but one of unending anger and pure, undiluted rage.
“You are the Deavoriath!” Tho blared. “That you hide in a Deavoriath vessel could be chance. But you fire their gamma-ray laser! Brothers and sisters, we have found the enemy. We have found the Deavoriath! Vengeance will finally be ours.”
That just took the cake! She didn’t just want to kill all of us and all humans, now the bitch had a major hard-on about the damn Deavoriath Plo mentioned. I personally hoped she did kill them off because I suddenly hated them more than she did.
“Captain, we are out of rail balls and infinity charges. Shall I fire our missiles?”
“No, Al. If we didn't hurt them with all of that, we're not going to do much with the nukes. We'll just contaminate the hell out of Azsuram. If I thought it might work, I'd go for it, but they just shook off more energy than all our warheads combined.”
“Your orders?”
“We wait.”
I can't tell if Sapale said it first, or Al, or maybe even Toño. What I heard, though, was a chorus of “what?”
“We stand-down and we wait. If they take their best shot and we survive, then we see if we can wait them out.”
“And if we can't out wait million-years-old creatures?” That was definitely Sapale. She was hot.
“Then I'll think of something.”
“You know that doesn't sound extremely reassuring?” said Toño.
“Are you insane, son?” Oh, even Marshall piled on now. Insult to injury.
“Everybody grab something secure and hang on for dear life.”
I wasn't certain what they'd bring, but it was certain to be a lot. Even if the twelve of them just grabbed hold of the cube and shook it, I didn't know if the ground below us would hold.
My questions were answered quickly. All twelve blimps started ramming the cube with their heads, assuming those front parts were heads. The vibrations were tremendous, but initially, the cube held tight. I was reasonably confident they couldn't breach the cube, but if they shook it enough, we'd be goners, especially the soft-bodied Kaljaxians. Plus, there was no telling how long those assholes out there could keep the battering up. W
ith nothing better to do and tough-enough skulls, they could pound us for as long as it took.
Ten minutes into their assault, I felt the first inkling of trouble. Nothing significant, but there was a slight increase in the amplitude of the motion of the cube. The ground underneath was starting to fail. Shit, crap, damn!
Two minutes later, even Sapale could sense the difference. “Jon, we're breaking free. What'll we do?”
“I don't know yet. Just hold on tighter and secure the little ones the best you can.”
In all my many battles in the air, on the ground, and in space, I'd never lost. Hence, I'd never before seen the look Sapale had in her eyes. It was the look a person gave someone they put all their faith and hope in and witnessed that person fail them completely. What an awful look.
“I'll hold Jarsmal. Here, hand her to me.”
I reached out with my right arm to cradle her. Without thinking about it consciously, I deployed the probe to the nearest wall, so I could stand more securely. The cube was rocking a couple meters from side to side. We'd break free and be the mouse to these cats in less than thirty seconds. The noise level was getting unbearable. I yelled to Sapale. “Honey, if this ends badly, know that I love you completely and forever.”
I think she started to respond, but the cube slammed to one side, free of its mooring. To pretty much myself, I mumbled, “I'd rather be anywhere than here. I'd settle for being back in Flight School in Lubbock, Texas, still married to my ex-wife.”
The pounding stopped instantly. The vibration vanished. I could detect no movement, but I had a powerfully nauseating feeling where my gut used to be. Hadn't been nauseated for over a century. I was fairly certain, from everything Toño had told me and everything I'd experienced, that it wasn't possible for me to be nauseated.
Marshall whined behind me, “Man, I think I'm going to hurl.”
Toño followed quickly. “I think I'll be sick too.”
I turned to Sapale. All four of her eyes were larger than dinner plates. “Are you okay. Do you feel nauseated too?” I asked.
“No, why would I feel sick? What in the name of the Holy Veils is happening?”
“I have,” I said truthfully, “no idea. I doubt we're dead, but I can't think of a better reason why the Uhoor aren't pounding us to bits any longer.”
“We're not dead,” Marshall said dismissively. He turned to Toño. “Are we?”
“No. But where we are is most unclear.”
“What do you mean,” I asked, “where we are? Where else but Azsuram could we be? Maybe in orbit because those nasties booted us up there.”
“I just think we're elsewhere. Al,” he called out, “what is our position?”
Nothing.
“Al, this is Captain Ryan. I order you to answer. Where are we?”
More nothing. Even Al wouldn't push his luck being pissy at a moment of crisis. “The ship, it must have been destroyed.” That was the only explanation I could come up with. The giant cigars killed my AI!
“Or,” Toño said, holding up a hand, “Al's out of range.”
“Out of range!” I spat out. “He can't be out of range. I don't know what his range is, but it's big, Toño, real big.”
“Approximately ten parsecs. But,” Toño added, “at that distance there would be a thirty-year delay in the signal.
“You think we're…”
Toño cut me off. “You spoke to Al a minute ago. We must be at least one light-minute away. That's roughly twenty million kilometers.”
“Toño, seriously…”
Again, he interrupted. “Without the AI, it may take weeks, months, to calculate where we are.” He looked at the gleaming wall. “Jon, can you make a window? Not a hole, mind you, a window.”
“Got me. Here.” I still had the probe attached. I thought, window to see through.
One wall became completely transparent. At least I think it did. There was nothing to see. It was pitch-black outside. This was heavy.
“Jon, ask the cube where we are.”
“Huh?”
He looked at me impatiently. “Ask the cube where we are.”
Sapale was eager for me to chat with the box too. “Ask it where we are now!” Mom was upset.
In my head, I thought, where are we? State location aloud.
A voice unlike any I'd ever heard, or even imagined, spoke. It sounded as if time, all the antiquity of time itself, spoke parched words. “11-3003-27598-0101. Time 20041-33-3-32.”
I turned to a stunned Toño, my jaw dropped open and all. “We're where he said. Eleven something. I didn't bring my watch, but I bet the time's reliable, too.”
“Cube,” Toño yelled, “translate coordinates to Earth-standard values.”
Nothing. The silence of Al, all over again.
Sapale pointed to the wall. “Ask it, brood-mate.”
“Wall, translate into…”
“What the alien asked, Form?”
“Y…yeah. What he asked.”
“Based on Earth coordinates we are at 121-3-4194…”
“No, wall. Tell us where we are as someone from Earth would view it, not the actual coordinates. Please.” Not very Form-like, I was thinking, but hopefully he understood me.
“I cannot determine the format of the information you request, Form. I will make an attempt to satisfy you. If you are still unclear, please let me know.”
“Thank you, wall.” Better. I sounded definitely more confident.
“We are inside the planet Jupiter, approximately thirty thousand kilometers radially from the planet's center, relative latitude…”
“We're where!” Ah, there. I'd found my command voice.
“Was I unclear? Sorry, I'm way out of practice. A few million years will do that to a vortex, Form. I said we are inside the planet Jupiter, in the Sol system. The one you recently vacated before this planet struck and tore off a large fraction of home-world's mass. You remember Earth, right, Form?”
I was speaking sort of on autopilot. “Yes, I remember Earth. Used to be my favorite planet. Why the hell are we inside the gaseous planet Jupiter!” There was a tone I'd never even heard.
“You asked me to take you there. Listen, and please don't get mad at me, I'm just the vortex manipulator, Form.” After a brief delay, we all heard a replay of me, mumbling to myself. I'd rather be anywhere than here. I'd settle for being back in Flight School in Lubbock, Texas, still married to my ex-wife.
Toño burst in. “When did you say that?”
“Immediately before the rattling stopped and we all got nauseated.”
“That's correct, Form. I apologize. As I say, it's been a long time since anyone asked me to perform a function. Times change, you know? So can language, especially idiomatic phrasing…”
“Wall, stop speaking,” I wasn't in the mood. “What are you trying, in a very roundabout way, to express?”
“You asked for your ex-wife and Lubbock. She's on worldship Glamour several light-years from here. Most of Lubbock is the dust blowing past the view portal you requested. I had to decide whether to fold the vortex into the worldship, to be with Gloria on Glamour, or place it here. I chose here. The vortex would have severely damaged…”
“Wall, stop talking.” I was, as I said, in no mood.
“Your ex-wife is named Gloria? That's hilarious!” Now, why did Marshall think that was so funny. Everybody had a name. That was hers.
“Jon,” Toño spoke up, “I think I've pieced this together. We were under attack. You connected to the cube, and you made a request. The cube did its best to comply with your instructions. And so, we are inside Jupiter, fifteen light-years from where we were an instant before. It all makes sense.”
“It all does not make sense,” I insisted. “It actually makes negative sense.”
“What is negative sense, Form? I must update my files.”
“We cannot be fifteen light-years from where we were. Period. Einstein won't allow it.”
“Excuse me, Form, which one o
f you is Einstein. I should speak to him or her.”
“Einstein is dead. Died in 1954.”
“1955,” corrected Toño, unhelpfully.
“1955,” I repeated.
“Why do you obey the word of a person dead?”
“He said, and I believe, nothing can travel faster than the speed of light in a vacuum. Traveling fifteen light-years in less than a second kind of violates that law to death.”
“Why, he's correct in that. Nothing can move faster than electromagnetic radiation.”
“Hence,” I said, “we cannot be where we are.”
“We can't?” The wall sounded confused. “Then where are we?”
“I have no freakin' idea. Doc, you going to bail me out, here? I'm sinking like a rock.”
“I find it quite entertaining.”
Toño, snide? What next? Santa and nine tiny reindeer with the Tooth Fairy riding shotgun landing on the roof?
“Vortex manipulator,” said Toño loudly, “by what mechanism, which isn't faster-than-light travel, brought us to this location?”
There was a short delay. I spoke up. “Ah, wall, if he asks a question, go ahead and answer it, okay?”
“By your command, Form. I folded space-time to place us here.”
“Fascinating!” Toño was impressed. I was completely confused.
“Toño, please, for us humans.”
Sapale cleared her throat loudly.
“For us non-eggheads.” I inclined my head to Sapale.
“The cube, it would seem, possesses the ability to grab two sections of space-time and place them next to each other. Let's say you're in San Francisco and I'm in New York. We wish to share a meal. Rather than fly coast-to-coast on a plane, the cube simply takes San Francisco in one figurative hand, New York in the other, and places them together. I step through and sit down next to you along Fisherman's Wharf.”
“Wall, is that what you did?” I was only slightly less confused.
“In essence, yes. In practice, it's a good deal more…”
“Wall, stop talking.”
“Please call me vortex manipulator, Form. I don't like being called a wall or a cube. I'm not the vessel or any part of it. I'm the vortex manipulator.”
The Forever Enemy (The Forever Series Book 2) Page 23