I nodded emphatically.
“Good. Four-dimensional space, often thought of as time, is actually space-time, since time itself is not really a thing, just a reference to a part of four-dimensional space. Think of a book filled with graph paper, on each page is a drawing of an object sequentially moving from one side of the page to the other. Each time you turn the page, the object is slightly closer to the opposite edge. In the fourth dimension, each moment we experience here in three-dimensional space is a page in that book. Four-dimensional space includes all pages of this book simultaneously – a worldline of the object’s existence from one side of the page to the other. Our lives exist in four-dimensional space as these worldlines. They exist from the moment we are born until we die. It’s a little crazier than that, though, if you consider that we are made from molecules that we share with everything else in our vicinity, such as what we eat, drink or breathe in. But, for now, you can just consider our lives in the fourth dimension to be multiple frames of space, our lives, forming a worldline.
“The fifth dimension takes a step away from the Euclidean even further. Every action or choice that you make has the potential to create an alternate consequence from the one you experienced. The fifth-dimension deals with these probabilities, these…what-ifs. Every possible outcome is just as valid as the one you experience, it’s just that we are only capable of perceiving one such outcome. Our perception in the third dimension allows us to see in all three directions, but only a single frame of reference in space-time – forward. We can also only see our multiverse as a single frame of reference on a single worldline – our present, and the sum of the circumstances that got us there.
“Just as the first-dimension is created from multiple points, the second- from multiple lines, the third- from multiple planes and the fourth- from multiple frames of space, the fifth-dimension is created from multiple worldlines. Phase space – the sixth dimension, what is colloquially known as Jump Space – is how we can step over these worldlines to re-enter a separate location in space-time. Jump Gates, and apparently this Jump Drive, manipulate space-time at the Plank length to create an event horizon. We shift into it, into phase space, and step over our own worldlines to a point further along – a worldline in which we arrive at our destination.
“But if phase space is…above our worldlines,” I said, “Can’t we see our other worldlines? Our lines of probability? Can’t we shift into another worldline? Or another probability?”
“Theoretically, yes. We simply don’t have the instrumentation required to navigate through phase space beyond the worldlines we are able to perceive – our own, as it were. I doubt that our brains would be able to comprehend the data needed to make that kind of shift.”
“How does my Spatial Translation fit into this model?”
“By the same principle, all the way up to the sixth dimension. You shift outside of three- and four-dimensional space to re-enter at another location. Since your nanites are capable of quantum level effects, they can perform the same function as a Jump Gate…Drive…but at a more local event level.”
“And Tac?”
He smiled. “Ah, now you’re thinking like a student. I most certainly would cherish a collaborative effort with his engineers. I suspect the bulk of his form resides in the seventh dimension – information space. It’s the only conceivable explanation I can posit.”
“So you think you know how our Drive works?”
“Yes,” he said, hastily plucking another tablet from his pile. He flicked through the screens for a few moments before finding his place. “Ah, ha. Here we go. How familiar are you with the Arbil’gehn Constrain Field?”
“It’s what we humans called the Higgs Field.”
“Yes, yes. The Orlii understanding of it is far more precise than ours. The Jump technology manipulates the properties of the ACF, the Higgs mechanism, and allows massively dense particles to become essentially massless for brief periods. We can do all sorts of magnificent things to matter when it becomes massless. For instance, we can squeeze it through really small spaces without it breaking its Schwarzchild radius. By passing specifically tuned massless matter through…er…gaps, I suppose you could call them, at the Plank length, to be received by an entangled Jump Gate at another point in the galaxy, we create infinitely long, tightly constrained corridors through the fifth dimension.”
“Jump Gates?”
He nodded vigorously, tossing aside his tablet and pulled another free. “This Jump Drive does not rely on an entangled pair of Gates. It tells me that there is no corridor, that we can move freely within phase space without remaining within a pre-determined path. This got me thinking. How do we navigate, then? The answer is so simple, I almost damaged Tac’s chassis slapping him on the back.”
“How do we navigate?”
“We lock our sensors onto the biggest, brightest worldlines we know. Use those for landmarks – just like ancient seafarer’s did – using the constellations.”
“What are the best worldlines to use?” I asked.
“The stars! More specifically – pulsars and black holes.”
“My grandfather mentioned the black hole in Vanhoeven System, just the other day.”
“Exactly!” said Gaston, excitedly, “I put it forward as the destination of our maiden voyage!”
I nodded to him. “It’s only a few systems away along Network…”
“Irrelevant!” he said, clapping excitedly, “We should be able to target it simply by entering phase space. All worldlines within several light-years of the black hole should terminate there. Eventually, over millions of years, the curvature of spacetime will pull everything locally into its event horizon.”
“What are the risks?”
He looked at me blankly. “Risks?”
“Do we know what effect the black hole has on phase space?”
“Very little, I would surmise. As we will no longer be affixed to our worldlines we should be capable of avoiding its effects on three- and four-dimensional properties.”
“Should be capable…?”
He gave me a stern look. “The maths is solid, even if the fools who discovered it are not. I can offer no absolutes until the theory is tested, Commander. You have to understand – we have no data beyond what we have unlocked through reverse engineering and whatever the Admiral has dispensed from the alien neuro-module you recovered.”
“You think Jalabar is withholding information?”
“Of course.”
It was my turn to look stern. “Why?”
“He has offered several data-caches containing conclusions that could only have been reached if one was working from a foundation of understanding that was not contained within the cache itself.”
“Why would he withhold information?”
He gave me a wry grin. “Why do you think?”
I rubbed my stubbled chin, thinking hard. So far, Jalabir had played me straight, as far as I knew. But I had to think of him as any other Admiral on the Protectorate – he had bigger designs than local problems. He dealt with issues bigger than what the Votus-Eridani Network experienced. Then again, he was only a man – perhaps he thought he could gain political or financial gain from holding the keys to the technology. He was right, if that was his goal. Technology such as this could change how the galaxy worked at its foundations – the Jump Gates would be obsolete, and the Protectorate controlled the Jump Gates. Not even the Corporations had their own Jump Gates. That’s incorrect, I told myself, the Corporations do have their own Jump Gates.
“It has to be because of the Corporations,” I said, “If this tech became common knowledge, the Corporations would try and gain a monopoly on it, or destroy it. I’ve seen what lengths they go to in order to control their prototypes…”
A sudden thought came to me. There was a very good chance that the Corporations would try and learn about the technology covertly, and the most viable option would be to infiltrate my crew. I had already enacted a high level of secur
ity around the Jump Drive, only those directly working on the device were cleared to access it, along with the military security around the dry dock and ship itself. Regardless, I mused, an assassin got through to me…
“Those were my thoughts as well,” said Gaston, “Jalabir must play his cards very close to his chest. I surmise he is only feeding me enough information to get a breakthrough, nothing more. I also believe the Restitution is the Admiral’s lightning rod for Corporate attacks. In fact, I’m certain of it.”
“Why didn’t he warn me?”
“The Admiral strikes me as a very calculating man.”
“You think he was testing me?”
He nodded, somewhat vigorously, a big grin on his face. No wonder the Protectorate was footing the bill for my medical expenses.
“There are other, potentially hazardous concerns you need to be aware of,” said Gaston after he started packing up his tablets.
“How did the Ghantri work all this out?” I said, when he nodded I continued, “I’d already thought about that. The Sectis seem to be the driving force behind their innovation, but the one I spoke with didn’t seem all that brilliant. I could have misjudged them, but I’ve always had a suspicion that someone else was helping them.”
“They do seem to be rather haphazard in their grasp of technology,” he agreed, “Without the computational abilities of Tac, the neuro-module, and my own genius I doubt the Protectorate could have cracked this technology by themselves.”
“Maybe one of the ghru helped them? Maybe they have some other artefact that allows them greater insight than what we’ve seen so far?”
He shook his head. “I prefer a simpler explanation – you’ve already given me more than enough evidence to suggest the identity of their silent partners.”
My eyes went wide when I grasped what he was saying. “You mean the Corporations? You think they’re allied with the Ghantri?”
“Allied, no. But there are too many similarities between that portable Gate and these Drives.”
“So why would the Corporates be targeting us? Why try and gain access illegally to technology they already have a connection with?”
He gave me an evil grin. “Not all Corporations get along. Maybe there are more than one duking it out. Maybe they’re not trying to gain access, but trying to stop us from gaining access. Maybe, just maybe, they weren’t getting all that they wanted out of their deal with the grubs…”
“What have I gotten myself into?” I said, looking at the ceiling in despair.
Gaston chuckled, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “I haven’t had this much fun since my third divorce.”
29.
I still had two weeks of recovery, rehabilitation and hospital care to endure before the doctors allowed me to return to duty. Every day, they pumped me full of medical nanites, stuck sensor probes on me and hooked me up to machines. It reminded me immensely of the last time I had received significant injuries – the aftermath of my escape from the Push.
My new heart, machine though it was, performed above my expectations. I’m not saying that I had a problem with my original one, but a few new functions were soon explained to me that I saw immediate benefit from.
“This new app,” explained Zoe, “will allow you to control your heart rate to a certain degree. You can make it beat faster, or allow a reservoir to fill and enrich with highly oxygenated blood. In automated mode, the heart will function exactly as a regular one would, but once the new commands are added via the app, you can simulate various effects that would normally be brought upon through physical exertion, emotions or other external stimuli.”
“How will it affect my fitness?” I asked.
“It will automatically enrich blood to meet the demands of your body. In case you weren’t already fit, you will be now.”
“Maybe naga-zak will be able to keep up with warrior,” grumbled Kekkin. I’d called him in to discuss my security, in light of Gaston’s revelations. At first, Kekkin had freaked out when I told him of Jalabir’s machinations. It took considerable effort calming him down enough that he didn’t march straight up to the Admiralty Office and put his lurzak into the Orlii’s chest.
The station police had posted a regular guard detail on my ward, but Kekkin wanted soldiers from the Restitution to guard the door to my room. I also earned myself a personal detail, whenever I left for my regular physio session.
I didn’t have the heart (no pun intended) to tell him that I had been shot while in the presence of every soldier we had assigned to our ship, that if my assassin wanted another attempt at my life he would have made it months ago while I was in my coma. I could tell my time unconscious had affected him as well, so I indulged him.
A polite knock on the door interrupted our discussion. A guard informed me that I had a visitor from station security. Someone had finally come to talk to me about the attempt on my life. Someone uncomfortably familiar.
“You’re looking well, Commander,” said Lt. Killian, “and may I formally apologise for jeopardising your previous mission.”
Killian and I go back a few months. From when I first entered the Gossamer System to rescue Osiris Blackburn. While attempting to earn the Dreaming some financial headroom, I had undertaken an errand at the behest of a dirty Fleet Chief. An errand that turned out to be a drug trafficking meet and greet for Ghantri narcotics. Killian was the lead investigator who arrested me when the military police busted up the meeting. In his defence, he was only performing his duty. I chose not to take it personally – I actually agreed with him.
“My previous mission?” I looked at him dumbly. I was still getting over the shock of seeing him before me. My new app alerted me to an increase in heart rate, recommended a lower frequency of pumping and I immediately calmed down.
“In Gossamer?”
“Oh, you mean the refugees?” Galaxy, I thought, he thinks I was on a Protectorate mission to rescue them all along!
“I was unaware you were on a mission, which explains why we could find no record of who you really were in our database. If I may, Commander, I find it difficult piecing together the level of secrecy, the black market deals and the raid on Ambrose Station.”
“You do?”
“Could you share any details? Now that the operation is concluded, I thought…”
“Past and present Special Forces Operations are highly classified, human!” barked Kekkin, catching on quickly, “Unless you have official reasons to be here, warrior suggests you leave.”
“Apologies,” he said, bowing at the waist, “I did not mean to pry. My curiosity gets the better of me. Part of why I joined the Investigative Department. I do have an official reason – I am the lead investigator on your attempted murder, sir.”
“What have you got?” I asked.
“Little. Do you have any enemies, Commander?”
Both Kekkin and I laughed. Killian looked sheepishly at a tablet he was carrying, then cleared his throat. “I mean, any in Eridani space?”
“I have lots of enemies, Killian. Most of the time, I never even learn their names.”
“Anyone with the resources to penetrate a Protectorate dry dock on Collumus Station?”
“There’s not a great deal of security here, Lieutenant. It’s an open station, with minimal military protection. I know any number of people who could gain access to these facilities.”
I could see the frustration building on his features. Déjà vu made the encounter seem slightly unreal. I remember clearly our verbal matches from months ago. Like a game of chess, I had responded to his incessant questions and probing conversations carefully. Often, he had left after the talks ended with him yelling at me across the table.
“Those were my conclusions as well. We’ve had little to go on, these past few months. I’m afraid that without some measure of cooperation from you and your people we may never find out who is responsible for this attack…”
“Wait,” I interrupted, “my crew have not been cooperating with t
he investigation?”
“No…I mean yes, they have been cooperating. To a degree. For example, if I could gain access to your personal logs and a detailed report on your recent activities…
It was Kekkin’s turn to interrupted him, a bitter laugh escaping his beak. “What makes human think we want you to find them?”
He looked flabbergasted. “Don’t you want justice?”
“Justice?” he said, “Protectorate police do nothing but hassle warriors before they go off to die. Protectorate police wait like spider for warriors to return, make life harder when warriors want to blow off steam. Warrior sees no justice from Protectorate police, only bureaucracy, rules and little men too scared to fight…”
“First Sergeant!” I said, “That’s enough. Killian is only doing his job. We all have our roles to play. How far does your jurisdiction go, Lieutenant?”
“The station, the fleet and any Protectorate facilities. Why?”
“I have my own people investigating a lead, and I want to keep it that way.”
“Care to share this lead? More heads working on this case can only…”
“I’m sorry, but I have my reasons. Chiefly, I don’t want this enemy catching wind of it. When we have enough information my own forces will handle the arrest, but I assure you, once I have finished questioning them I will hand them over to you.”
“I can’t condone such…”
“You don’t have a choice, Lieutenant. This investigation is within my powers as a Protectorate Commander. I have the means and the resources to conduct it as I see fit.”
“But if we pool our resources…”
“We run the risk of alerting my enemy to our plans. No, I will use only people I trust, whose allegiance I can count on.”
He looked at me in frustration, again. “You think this was an inside job?”
Frontier's End: A Seth Donovan Novel Page 16