Fractime Legend (Part 4)

by Steve Hertig

Chapter 40

  RefPlane: 1,472,610,002 BC

  John looked out into the bailey through the legs of the gort and saw Wigwag pulling a cart filled with strange weapons; he stopped, quivering, in front of the creature.

  "Come on Wigwag!" John waved to him. "It's okay!" he said just as the gort's legs creaked and feet flexed slightly.

  "I think this thing is coming around!" John yelled over his shoulder.

  Eyes closed, Wigwag bolted for the sanctuary of the research center, the cart bouncing behind and then off one of the gort's feet as he passed the hatchway.

  "I must see if we can close the hatch," Prophet said and began probing the bank of computer interfaces.

  John, Jenifer and Flint tried to push the thick hatch shut as Wigwag began to sort and match weapons with power packs.

  "It is no use," Zuinall told them. "The gate needs the main power supply. The last of its power must have expired as you sounded the key."

  "Auxiliary power established," Prophet said. "I don't know for how long and, unfortunately, the ship's core AI appears nonfunctional."

  Wigwag handed weapons to Flint, Jennifer and John.

  "There are smaller mechs that can be activated." Zuinall said and rushed to an interface. "They may buy us a little time."

  A hatch opened on the far side of the research center and small mechs streamed out into the bailey as the deck shook, then shook again.

  It took a moment for John to realize the shocks related to the gort; it was moving.

  Flint and Jennifer positioned themselves on each side of the gap by the hatch, their alien weapons trained into the bailey. John was looking over the rifle-like weapon Wigwag had given him. He had no idea how to use it, except for what seemed to be a trigger on its side and sights of sorts along what he took for its barrel.

  "Aim for its joints," Zuinall suggested.

  But the gort, seemingly ignoring the small mechs scurrying around its feet, ripped off one of the outer hatches and flung it at several of them crushing them instantly. The deck shuttered at the impact. It then crouched low, its single sensor looking directly at the weapons trained on it through the gap in the research center's hatchway.

  The gort ripped the other hatch off its hinges and flung it at the gap, knocking Flint and Jennifer to the deck.

  "Fire!" John shouted hoping his weapon worked.

  The team blasted through the gap at what each considered a potential vital spot, but the gort was unfazed. As it approached the hatch, it forced them to retreat deeper into the research center.

  As the gort's hand slowly entered the gap, curling its fingers around the hatch, Flint fired several more rounds at its mechanical digits but with no effect. The hatch groaned as the gort pulled on it, but didn't yield. It withdrew its hand, and the deck shook again as it moved away from the gap, then silence fell in the bailey.

  "What's it waiting for?" Jennifer asked no one in particular.

  "The docking we heard earlier," Flint said. "It's probably waiting for other mechs to finish us off."

  Prophet cautiously peered around the hatch. "It appears deactivated. It is possible it has inadequate power reserves to prolong the attack. However, many of the red mechs are still functional and some are even attaching themselves to the gort's feet."

  Flint stuck the tricorder out the gap. "It does appear to be deactivated," he said to Prophet.

  Wigwag pulled on John's sleeve.

  "What is it?" John asked the trembling O'jit kindly.

  "The gort's head hangs over the command center of the Navis," he told John. "Our legends tell it was a great evil."

  "Just its head? Are you sure?" Flint said.

  John looked at Wigwag with sympathy as the O'jit nodded to Flint, "Don't believe everything you hear," John said. "Something killed it."

  Wigwag thought for a moment then smiled and slapped another power pack into his weapon.

  "What's that sound?" Jennifer said as dreadful clicking noises grew in volume to be obvious to all.

  "More mechs," Zuinall said ominously as she selected a weapon from the cart.

  "There's something everyone should know," Prophet said. "The Traveler's watch has limited power reserves. There is a time limit to our mission."

  "You've got to be joking," John said as he slumped against the hatch.

  "Don't worry it should be several Sol days," Flint told him.

  "Even with the gort asleep," Prophet said, "we don't have the resources for defend this space against an armed boarding party of machines, unless we get help."

  Jennifer began blasting into the bailey at mechs appearing at the outer hatchway.

  "Scavenger mechs, not battle mechs as we feared," Flint said between shots. "Their ship must have been nearest the Library, but the real bastards won't be far behind."

  The small mechs disengaged from the gort to hinder the scavengers. John took several aimed shots, blowing a leg off a distant mech. He shivered realizing the scavengers were spider-like machines similar to the ones in the enemy's Taklamakan base and Navis.

  "I recommend Mister Flint use the watch to get help," Prophet said. "I calculate that there is enough power for one distant translation and back as well as for us to return."

  "It's impossible," Flint said, "as we've got no coordinates pre-programmed into the watch."

  "You forget about our trial translation back at The Gulf Breeze, my friend," Prophet said with what John figured had to be a Calma smile.

  Jennifer fired several shots through the hatch. "They're tough fuckers," she muttered.

  Flint stared at his weapon for a moment. "It could work," he said.

  "You must go," Prophet said clearly anticipating more objections from Flint. "I must work to regain more power to close the hatch," he said as he removed the Traveler’s watch and then handed it to Flint. "Just depress the activator," Prophet said but Flint was already gone.

  John added to Jennifer's volleys, and another spider fell in a heap.

  The small mechs, no match for the scavengers, were trying to form a defensive line in front of the hatchway but the spiders advanced on them with cutters, pinchers and short-range disruptors tearing them apart. Only intense fire from the hatchway kept them back.

  Wigwag handed them all more power packs for their weapons then resumed his own slow, deliberate fire into the bailey. The mechs were now in range to fire projectiles through the hatchway; they pinged around them now constantly as the gort watched in silence.

  Prophet, back at a computer interface, shouted to them, "The Navis approaches!"

  "How much time do we have?" Jennifer asked between shots.

  "Less than a Sol hour until it's in range to launch battle mechs effectively," he answered calmly.

  "Shouldn't Flint be back? What happened to duration having no meaning?" John asked with a hint of desperation between shots, as the scavengers tore more of the small mechs to pieces.

  "Most of those scavenger mechs look too big to get in here," Jennifer said kneeling so the others had a clear aim just as a smaller spider bolted for the gap.

  Wigwag and Zuinall fired but missed. The small mech launched itself at Jennifer, bowling her over. She used the Narian blade, cutting its legs clean off its body, including the one still protruding from her side.

  The mech struggled, and could only quiver where it lay.

  "The last of the red mechs is down," John called out.

  Zuinall pulled Jennifer away from the hatchway back to temporary safety. "She's no in immediate danger," Zuinall said ripping her gown to make an improvised dressing and then pressing Jennifer's hand onto the makeshift bandage over her wound.

  John and Wigwag stepped back still firing. John looked at Jennifer and her blood dripping to the deck. He shook a flashback of Seren's quarters out of his head and continued to fire at the advancing mechs as they wedged their cutters and pinchers into the gap. The thick hatch the gort couldn't budge began to crumble as the scavengers used their specialized tools.

  Time sl
owed as John saw Jennifer try to pick up her weapon only to have Zuinall grab it from her and fire at the mass of metal limbs assaulting the hatch.

  Prophet looked behind him at the carnage then resumed his work at a terminal as Wigwag jumped from side to side, firing at the gap and dodging projectiles; his agility was phenomenal.

  A mech projectile nicked John's arm and brought him back to the present.

  "I have determined it will be impossible to close the hatch," Prophet announced as he withdrew from the interface and went to comfort Jennifer.

  "Great," John said taking another weapon from the cart and then began firing as several spiders' limbs quickly disengaged the hatch followed by another and then another.

  "Hold fire," Prophet called to them as a very upset Kharg thrust its head and shoulders into the gap pulling away the last spider.

  "Yeah, Take that shit, mother fuckers," Jennifer yelled from the deck.

  As the battle began to shift back into the bailey, John, Wigwag and Zuinall advanced past the hatch firing at will at numerous spiders trying to defend themselves from at least a dozen pissed Khargs. Flint fired a phased rifle from their rear, killing several mechs in succession.

  John ducked and pulled Wigwag to the deck as a mech body flew over their head and crashed against a bulkhead. A Kharg ran past with two scavengers in its grasp then crashed into the bulkhead crushing them.

  It soon became clear the tide had turned against the spiders as they formed a huddle for protection in a corner of the bailey. Their cutters and pinchers whirled outward in defense at the Khargs who picked one at a time from the huddle and destroyed it sadistically. Then the gort stirred again, taking a step forward then stopping in it tracks.

  "The gort has computed the scavenger's failure," Prophet said. "It reactivates."

  John looked across the bailey at Flint near the double hatchway. As the Khargs tore the last as spider limb from limb, Flint's expression changed as he glanced up to John from the Traveler's watch he held. He yelled something incomprehensible to the Khargs who then rushed to him just before they all disappeared.

  The gort moved again. This time faster than John could fathom. It shook the ship as it ran through suspended cables and conduits tearing many from the overhead and bouncing dead mech parts just off deck in its seismic wake. It stood scanning the organic life before it; blocking any exit through the open double hatchway.

  "John!" Jennifer called to him, "Here!"

  He stared at the sheath sliding across the deck toward him. Behind him, he heard a power pack click into Zuinall's weapon and then Wigwag whimper beside him.

  "The beast!" Wigwag cried out as the Mech flexed its plated fingers in to a fist, and John picked up the blade.

  The monster crouched as if setting itself for an accelerated rush at the organics.

  John removed the blade from its sheath and thrust it into Wigwags hands. "There's no way I can defeat that thing, but you can do it. Use the cables." John pointed to the wires and cables draping down from the overhead surrounding the gort.

  "Yes, professor!" Wigwag exclaimed just as the gort lunged forward at them. Wigwag scrambled onto the nearest conduit and then jumped to a cable. He swung around the gort's head and with a blur of the Narian blade; the gort shuttered. Wigwag reached apogee on the cable then swung back at the gort. The blade was bright blue as he passed the gort's head again then pushed off with his feet from another conduit to pass behind it. This time its head fell backward, cleanly severed, making the away team bounce off the deck with its impact. A moment later, the body teetered and they all ran for the safety of the research center; it fell, bouncing them all off the deck again.

  Wigwag repelled down onto the chest of the gort and drove the blade to the hilt for good measure then scampered to John to return the weapon.

  Flint appeared next to Zuinall without the Kharg reinforcements.

  "Sorry about leaving," he said giving John a hand up and staring past the mangled hatch at the dead gort. "But it looks like you dealt with the problem," he added, watching Prophet probing the remains of the small mech that attacked Jennifer.

  "Taking in to account Flint and the Khargs translations," Prophet said, "we now have only six Sol hours until our return, and the Navis will soon be in range to deploy its battle mechs."

  "What about the rip?" Jennifer asked and then grimaced as Zuinall quickly removed the dead mech limb from her side and began to tend to her wound from the contents of a med kit.

  "We are still no closer stopping it," Flint said studying Jennifer's pale face.

  "There may be a way," Prophet said still attached to the dead mech. "I have discovered that the purpose of these scavengers is to find material to feed the Navis' singularity. It appears they must feed its event horizon mass at regular intervals until it becomes stable several million years hence."

  "So have we disrupted its feeding schedule?" John asked.

  "There are armies of scavengers hunting its food," Prophet explained, "but it must be fed the correct amount of mass at specific intervals."

  "Or what?" Flint scoffed. "It'll get a tummy ache?"

  "Precisely," Prophet said. "And it's mass at the time of the null space implosion was precisely the amount necessary to cause the rip- highly improbable. Changing its feeding history now may affect the mass at the time of the future implosion."

  Wigwag, now standing atop the gort's head, waved to them from the bailey. "Need lots of mass?" he asked unsheathing the entropy blade.

  They all turned and looked at the dense, dead mech.

  "Perfect," Prophet said. "With recalibration of Flint's TR and the Navis' internal details passed on to me by Luca, we should be able to get onboard and to the singularity's feeding station undetected."

  "And the probability of such a feat?" Flint asked while watching Zuinall tend Jennifer's wound.

  "Zuinall," Prophet said ignoring Flint, "with power partially restored, there may be more mechs available from other decks."

  "I'll summon what I can find," she said and turned to a nearby ship's interface.

  "Wigwag, your skills with the Narian blade credits you with its dismemberment," John said.

  Wigwag, smiling broadly, lost no time starting to slice the gort into small pieces.

  They soon discovered that even a modest-sized chunk of the gort was too heavy for them to carry but soon more maintenance mechs arrived to help.

  Flint had translated on board the Navis to the singularity's feeding station, which fortunately was unguarded and unmonitored. The Navis only recorded mass arriving onboard though proper channels. The feeding mechs, programmed purely to feed the singularity at the appropriate rate, took no notice of their mechs adding mass of their own.

  Back at the research center, Prophet monitored the time and pace of the process. He had calculated each bit of the gort's additional mass needed to have what he called a reasonable chance of success.

  "The Navis has entered range and launched a swarm of battle mechs," Prophet announced from an interface. "And the singularity nears a gravitational feedback loop as last of the required mass is assimilated."

  "Plain English, please Prophet," Jennifer said, her color back, responding to Zuinall's care.

  "We can expect a kind of a hiccup," Prophet said.

  "A hiccup." Jennifer repeated. "How big?"

  "Singularities are always difficult to predict," Prophet confessed.

  John watched several of the small mechs carry last of the necessary mass, which included the last pieces of the two dissected outer hatches, through Flints TR and disappear. Only the gort's head remained.

  Wigwag slid the Narian blade back into its sheath now hanging from his waist sash.

  "Then, I guess it's time to get the hell out of here," John said watching Flint appear followed by an assortment of weary maintenance mechs. John thought Prophet looked concerned, but with a Calma, it was a difficult call. "What is it Prophet?"

  "Our programming of the watch back in Prime was based
on the four of us," he said. "Wigwag and Zuinall are a problem. There's not enough power left in the watch for all of us and the power system is not compatible."

  "You knew this when Flint left?" Jennifer asked tersely.

  Prophet nodded.

  "It was a good call," John said softly as the Library shuttered. He assumed the battle mechs were boarding.

  "There are several lifeboats still intact," Prophet said studying a ship's interface.

  "We can load the two stasis chambers into one," Flint suggested.

  "We have only minutes until the mechs arrive," Zuinall said turning around from an interface. "I must get our research records," she said turning to another interface.

  "We have less than that until we must re-activate the watch," Prophet said solemnly.

  "I will serve the Lady," Wigwag said proudly as he began to push an empty stasis chamber towards a hatch opposite the bailey's hatchway.

  "There is no other way," Zuinall told them holding what John surmised was a data storage device containing her research records.

  "I'll take your place," Flint told her sternly.

  "You have objectives not yet compete, brother," she said. "The real significance of my life ended when Tim saved the embryos." She looked at John.

  A distant, growing clatter marked the advance of mechs.

  "Okay let's go," John said shouldering his weapon and pushing the remaining stasis chamber to follow Wigwag.

  "The life boat is this way," Zuinall said hurriedly following Wigwag through the hatch in front of John and the others.

  Flint assisted Jennifer as fast as she could walk but soon decided it best to carry her.

  Prophet was first to reach the airlock to the lifeboat. "I must make the adjustment for the change in our spatial location from our arrival," he said and began fiddling with the watch's controls.

  Flint set Jennifer down gently next to the lock and helped John, Wigwag and Zuinall stow the stasis chambers in the lifeboat. Finished, they rejoined Jennifer, her weapon trained down the passageway leading back to the research center.

  "I don't hear anything," she said. "They've stopped somewhere."

  "Thank you," Zuinall said and then kissed each one once on each cheek.

  Flint was silent and Jennifer tried to stifle a gentle sob.

  Zuinall took Wigwag's hand, led him through the lock, and secured the lifeboat hatch behind them.

  John could see through the airlock portal Zuinall touch the launch control as Wigwag, his large eyes teary, held his hand up and waved. Then they were gone as the lifeboat receded quickly into the brightness of the Lár.

  John felt the top of his head for the parrot sunglasses to shield his eyes from the brightness at the end of the launch tube, but they were gone.

  "Quickly," Prophet said wrapping an appendage around Flint and Jennifer, "the time draws near."

  John reached for Jennifer's hand as the Library ship lurched sharply; its artificial gravity vanished.

  "I take it that was the hiccup," Flint said his tricorder in one hand. "A gravitational event progresses," Prophet said straining his main appendage to touch John drifting just out of reach.

  John yanked his weapon off his shoulder and flung it down the passageway behind them just as a spider with horrendous armaments stalked into view.

  Wonder what took them so long, he thought seeing Flint grasp Jennifer's shoulder and one of the Calma's appendages in anticipation of translation.

  John's drift vector slowly reversed, but he was now closer to Jennifer. He strained, reaching for her, his fingers extended fully. She reached for his hand, pulled back in agony and then, determined, stretched toward him again.

  "Time!" Prophet shouted just John and Jennifer's fingertips touched.

  RefPlane: 22 Sept 243 BC

  The cloaked figure moved silently through the Family's cloister and then out into a slight evening rain on a wind-swept hill on the westernmost of the Pretanic isles.

  Flint cautiously approached a figure standing next to an impressive stone cairn; he was well aware that Family canon strictly forbade the impersonation of a younger self. He whispered in old Gaelic, "Warm rain on the eve of the equinox, Mick."

  "Micah!" Mick O’Shanley said obviously startled seeing the cloaked figure in the flickering light from a lone torch, somehow still lit as it fought with the rain.

  "I'm glad I found you," Flint said through the drips from his cloak's hood. "And how is Clare?" he asked respectfully of Mick's current lover.

  "She is well—"

  "And still strong willed," Flint quipped.

  "You must know some things never change." Mick chuckled.

  "Maybe, but the move to the west has been good," Flint whispered from beneath his hood.

  "Never liked caves much," Mick said.

  Flint looked at the mound of stones before them. "Aye," he agreed knowing the vast technological leap that was still enveloping Mick and the rest of the Family at the Pruchlais.

  "The passing of our queen after such a long disappearance has delayed us," Mick said, "but Elder Sister is anxious to return as the Liaths are organizing. They even have a new speaker. I hope for the universe that they are not responsible for this," he added gazing at the fresh cairn.

  Flint knew the wet stones did not embrace Zuinall.

  "I have something for you," he said. "You are not to disclose this to anyone until you are back in the Pruchlais and safe. Even if you were to ask me about it again, I would deny all knowledge."

  Flint withdrew the pouch given to him by Zuinall from beneath his cloak and handed it to Mick. "Wait a lunar cycle then give them to the new queen. This was Zuinall’s last wish."

  Flint continued to gaze at the stones through now heavy rain from beneath his cloak. He knew this broke all the Time Accords he could think of, but he had no other ideas on what to do with the temporal entities. He knew well the Family myth of their origins, and this scenario was a serious departure. For once in his life, he forced himself to break history and shuddered.

  "Sounds important," Mick said taking the pouch as he tried to peer at Flint beneath his hood. "Will you take ale, Micah? There’s a new batch ready at the hall," Mick said with a sly smile.

  "I must journey ahead, my friend, farewell." Flint said quickly as he turned in the downpour and vanished.

  Prime: 1 Jan 2000

  John slipped into the Breeze's pool lounger next to Jen gently snoring in another beside him. He had a few moments to reflect on the spectacular views of Mesozoic Earth as well as the Lár.

  He took a deep breath, finally forced open an eye to confirm Jen was still sleeping, and then peeked at his sat-chron; it was almost time.

  He slowly sat up and saw Sam and Sara's sauna still covered with party lanterns and then shivered. At the bar, Flint, Prophet and Jennifer were fiddling with coffee urn.

  John slowly got up from the lounger so as not to wake Jen and then rushed over to them, "Don't do that," he said in loud whisper and pulling them away. "That's Sara's job, and she'll be showing up any—"

  "Hi guys!" Sara said coming out of her cottage. "I didn't know you were here. Micah. You're looking well. And Prophet, I thought you were home world."

  "Definitely. Good to see you Sara," Flint said stepping away from coffee pot while raising his mirror sunglasses atop his head and then straightening his pricey tee shirt that matched his orange and black board shorts.

  "Hello, Sara," Prophet said but offered no more salutation.

  "I'm Sara." She reached her hand out to Jennifer. "You must be another Scott by the looks."

  "From the RefPlane," she said shaking Sara's hand.

  "That explains those then," Sara said while looking over Jennifer's cuts and bruises. "Never been there. Not going. No offense."

  "None taken," Jennifer replied shifting her position on the barstool.

  John knew her abdominal wound, healed by a Pruchlais med unit, was still tender. He was thankful Flint has somehow arranged the subterranean ba
se to be empty for almost twenty-four hours upon their return. They all needed a respite.

  "Don't think we have to worry about Minus for awhile," Jennifer told Sara. "Both the TC and Family have halted transits for the time being. And the Optimum has insisted that none occur indefinitely, cutting all communications."

  "Then it must be party time," John mused and then popped a stale peanut from a dish on the bar into his mouth.

  "Don't worry. A reboot is coming," Sara said tapping coffee pot gently on its side and obviously avoiding a political exchange so early in the morning. The coffee pot went into full perk almost instantly as she continued to add more condiments to a nearby tray.

  Jennifer leaned over to John. "Just checked the RefPlane's similarity records and our young friend, Dr. Rodney Higgs, has published a second paper on temporal distortions associated with dark energy clusters."

  John smiled and sat back in his bar chair as Flint nudged him.

  "I returned the watch to the coordinates associated with the original satellite data," he said softly. "I used the watch to get there and, thankfully, my TR provided the return. I think we can assume it drifted in space to those coordinates after Ces released it; so, it's there for the Confederation to find and also difficult for the Optimum to locate. Furthermore, reports from Trua Outpost indicate the rest of downline seems fairly normal as well," he added nonchalantly.

  "Then it is over," John said as he saw Jen sit up, stretch and check her sat-chron.

  "Nothing is ever over and remind me over coffee to brief you on the heretical part of the family," Flint said solemnly.

  John saw Flint also notice Jen was now sitting up on her lounger and looking around the Breeze. "I'll have to tell her sometime," John said soberly to the former away team.

  "Going to boast about saving the universe, Elder Brother?" Flint joked.

  "Wigwag gets that credit," Johns replied stoically and recalling sadly Wigwag still had Jen’s Narian blade. He had already searched Trudy's cottage and knew Jen was going to be unbelievably disappointed and grieved at the loss of such an extraordinary weapon.

  "Might as well tell her," Flint continued, watching Jen. "As I am guessing Luinan should show up anytime to debrief us on my report of a possible alternate reality spawn," he added, exchanging an apprehensive look with Jennifer.

  "Possible!" Prophet laughed as Angstrom rolled onto his back in the bar stool next to the prophet to get more than usual, simultaneous belly rubs.

  "More like a un-spawn," Jennifer quipped. "I think I'll let my hair grow," she added rubbing the scar on the top of her head.

  "Too bad we are still aware," John lamented looking around the Breeze's empty courtyard and remembering the sadness on Wigwags face as the lifeboat disappeared into the Lár.

  "We were shielded by the gravitational event as we translated," Prophet said. "Although, we can now confidently deduce how the Navis became stranded in null space."

  "That was one big hiccup," Jennifer said and they all laughed.

  "I presume the party is continuing?" John said loud enough for Sara to hear.

  She nodded, still intent adding a new filter to the coffee machine.

  "I saw Sam going for a beer run earlier," Flint added.

  John noticed the pool was devoid of barrels.

  "A very good deduction then, professor," Prophet said amid a loud purr. He removed a pair of sunglasses from a vest pocket and gave them to John.

  Flint chuckled.

  "Thanks, Prophet," John said. "Never thought I'd see these again."

  John dropped the gaudy glasses into his Hawaiian shirt's breast pocket. He started to relax further into his barstool just as he saw Jen notice them all sitting at the bar, check her sat-chron. She got up and headed their way with hands-on hips and a very perplexed look on her face.

  "You guys didn’t happen to get zapped together by Dr. Fanau?" Flint asked incredulously.

  "Uh oh," Jennifer muttered seeing Jen’s face.

  Straightening his back and quickly putting on the parrot shades, John mumbled to himself, "You've got to be joking."

  ###

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