Means of Escape (Spinward Book 1)

by Rupert Segar

  “Kill the pilot, Kill the pilot!” he screamed over the comms link.

  “Sire, the outer airlocks have all opened,” said the captain of the vessel.

  The lights in the frigate’s control room went out and the emergency lights came on. In the gloom, a quiet voice came over the speakers.

  “Emperor, let the pilot go or I will open this cabin’s bulkhead to the vacuum outside the door.”

  “Sire, there’s a complete loss of atmosphere from the starboard side,” said the captain.

  The Emperor felt a chill of fear rip up from his bowels. He had watched countless times as his enemies were bundled out of airlocks. He had seen their eyes bulge and bleed. He had seen blood coming from every orifice as tiny blood vessels ruptured. He has seen the bodies thrash about as the lack of oxygen began to kill the body and brain.

  “Inner door opening in ten, nine, …” said the calm voice over the speaker.

  “Release the pilot, release the pilot!” screamed the Emperor over the comms link. “Now, before we lose our air.”

  +

  “ … five, four, three, …” The same voice was counting down on Orion’s tannoy system. Colonel Garth held his hand up to stop his henchman doing anything.

  “Release him, Garth, release him” came the Emperor’s voice now quieter, almost pleading.

  “two, one, …opening the inner bulkhead.”

  For a few moments, Colonel Garth put his head on one side as if he was listening to something. “Let the pilot go,” he said calmly to the dog faced man.

  +

  On board the frigate, the Emperor was paralysed with terror as air began to whistle out of the cabin through a narrow but widening gap in the bulkhead door.

  “Closing all doors … re-pressurising.”

  “Thank you, Garth,” said the ruler of a thousand worlds over the comms. “Your selfless loyalty is truly appreciated.”

  +

  Garth did not hear the words of gratitude from his monarch. He and his dog faced henchman were both unconscious, shot by anaesthetic darts the moment Art was freed from the explosive collar. Yelena helped Art to his feet with his wrists still bound behind his back,.

  “Where have you been?” she said kissing him.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” said Art “Just get these handcuffs off me.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said laughing. “It’s been a while. I might just keep them on till I can get you into our cabin.”

  Chapter 32: Reunion

  The ship emerged gently from the gateway in orbit above Devastation and settled alongside a string of seventeen shuttles and postal vessels, all lying inert in orbit. The Kargol boats had suffered immediate loss power when they flipped through the gateway: not as a result of the transit through the grey lens but because the tiny alien ship had been waiting for them. Vessel by vessel, the alien ship had hacked and subjugated their computer systems. Becky and Lea explained to their crews that they were in no danger, they were prisoners of war.

  The battle over, one by one the vessels were sent back through the gateway the re-join the defeated Imperial fleet. The crew of the very last shuttle foolishly decided to try to launch a torpedo at the ship. All systems failed including the gravity plating and the shuttle went through the doorway tumbling out of control. The space sick crew had to wait several hours before the fleet decided to rescue them.

  Emergency repairs to the Imperial fleet took over a week to complete. The Emperor ordered a resumption of the exploration of the mysterious anomaly floating in orbit above the planet. The grey lens no longer admitted any vessel.

  +

  A buzzer sounded and red lights flashed on the command console on the bridge of Explorer Spirit II. Thistle had been asleep for less than two hours and woke groggily looking at the dials and flashing lights. Since Aunt Suxie’s disappearance, the crew had worked round the clock trying to discover what had happened to her. After three days of largely fruitless investigation, Thistle had ordered everyone to get some rest. Only then had she permitted herself to close her eyes. Now something had set of the alarms.

  Some of the satellites had detected a burst of flux. Thistle tapped and flicked the screen of her workstation. “Phew, 26 light years away,” she said to herself. “That’s one heck of a flux oscillation.” Thistle calculated that the explosion of flux had occurred about fifteen hours earlier. I’m glad Spirit II wasn’t anywhere near that!

  The discovery of the realm and flux had changed the rules of relativity. It wasn’t the complete restoration of simultaneity, where events in very far apart places could be said to occur at the same time. The mathematics was very complex but it did mean these distant events could be said to take place at roughly the same time.

  It’s an event in a far off country, thought Thistle, judging it was not worth waking the rest of the crew.

  Just as Thistle tried to nestle back into her seat, the main emergency sirens went off, not only on the bridge of Explorer II but all over the camp, nine kilometres away to the north east. Thistle was instantly alert. On her screens she could see lights coming on in tents and makeshift cabins. Then her attention was drawn to the central vid-screen above her console. It showed a view of the anomaly. Two sets of security lights were illuminating the area. There, in front of the grey oval, stood Aunt Suxie along with two strangely dressed men.

  +

  In the early hours of the morning, ship time, Art left Yelena sleeping in their bed and made his way to the main cabin. He sat down heavily at the circular table. The stripy sphere floated in the air before him.

  “You and I need to have a talk,” said the pilot.

  “You are angry because I put a programme in your sub dermal earpiece and inserted a few security devices in your widgets.”

  “Not just angry. I feel betrayed and violated. You know how I feel about AIs and machine personalities and then you stick one in my head.”

  “I was only protecting my main asset,” said the sphere.

  “What, yourself and the ship?”

  “No, you, Arthur King. I had to protect you because you are my moral compass in a corrupt galaxy.”

  “Now, you’re having a laugh.”

  “No, Art, my experience of humanity may only be brief but it is extensive. Nearly everywhere, human rights are ignored and life is cheap. Unthinking cruelty seems to be commonplace among Homo sapiens. The pilot who sat in the chair before you was willing to burn women and children to death in a church, while bemoaning the loss of a building because he liked the architecture. It is clear the militaristic dictatorship of the Kargol dynasty has created a ruthless and callous society prepared to commit genocide and torture. The Alliance is not much better. Their system may not be overtly oppressive but it has a callous ethos which prizes property rights above the needs of its citizens. Everything has a price and if you cannot pay, you end up becoming someone else’s property. Poor children go hungry and uneducated. Millions die prematurely from treatable diseases and billions more work as indentured slaves. Then, look at the Library worlds. They are supposed to represent the pinnacle of human civilisation. Yet they are governed by dynasties of autocrats who behave like feudal lords and treat the rest of society like chattel. ”

  “No one claims humanity is perfect,” said Art, “but what can be done to change it? Like Lea says, throughout the galaxy, every other world is a haven for despots or fanatics.”

  “We need to change the galaxy: you, me, Yelena, Becky and Lea. I have powers and secrets to reveal to humanity but I need a moral authority, an ethical compass. In particular, I need you, Art, to help me choose the right path.”

  “That’s a big burden to put on me. But even if we want to change things, how do we start?”

  “We need to begin with a galaxy wide revolution.”

  +

  The conference was to be held on Devastation. Captain Isoko had wanted the meeting to take place back on their home world. However, Yelena and one of the pods said the crew of Ex
plorer Spirit II had role to play. They would arrive in their ship within days after hopping through a series of connecting orbital portals. Dylan agreed the explorers were crucial for their future plans. He added that having waited nearly a thousand years, a few more days would not matter.

  The pods, two white ones and the third, deep red pod, along with the ship created a large conference table made of granite. The ship cut it from an outcrop of rock and placed it in front of the middle gateway. Far from acting in unison, the four elements of the entity appeared to argue over the exact position, height and finish of the table. Yelena and Art holding hands looked on amused.

  “You know, I actually think they’re having fun,” said Art, who was in favour of a matt finish to the table, much to the delight of the red pod. After being rescued by it, Art had become almost attached to the pod. He called it ‘Mr Angry,’ much to the annoyance of the ship who insisted the pods did not have emotions.

  “Hey, don’t kid yourself, ship,” said Art. “Mr Angry has a great yearning to be my friend, especially if he wants my vote for the unpolished look, don’t ya, Mr Angry.”

  “Absolutely correct, pilot King. Best friends for life,” said the deep red pod floating over to hover besides Art.

  “See,” said Art laughing. “Anyway, ship, when the sun comes out, a highly polished surface will only dazzle those seated at the table.”

  +

  Later that evening, three small moons were visible in the sky above Devastation. Dylan sat on a grav chair near the ship. The red pod hovered nearby. They had been discussing the science of the gateways for hours.

  “It is a hard truth to bear,” said Dylan, “but from what you are saying we could never have reached the Creators who went into the future. The mission Ewoma and I undertook was doomed from the start.”

  The red pod dipped, almost nodding.

  “Yes, the Creators caused the temporal distortion by hurling miniature black holes into the past, forming connections from one planet to the next. That is where all the planetary matter went. The initial gateway sent the automated construction crews backwards in time. Thus, they could complete the network before the first doorway was even opened. The initial high level of temporal tension in the doorway network allowed the Creators to be catapulted into the future. However, as soon as the gateways were opened the temporal energies began leaking away. Today, the effect is much smaller than it was originally and it is decreasing all the time.”

  “It’s almost like radioactive decay,” said Dylan “The decline in the temporal distortion was too small to be measured when we first found the doorways. But, when we were trapped, looping round and round, I suspected the time shift effect was lessening every circuit.”

  “Eventually, there will be no time distortion at all,” said the pod. “I suspect this was the Creators’ intention. They did not want anyone to follow them into the far future but they were happy to leave behind a way of traversing the galaxy. This was their gift for humanity.”

  “Well, let’s hope we use it wisely,” said Dylan who raised his glass to the three moons above the eastern horizon.

  +

  The clouds were thick and grey, when thirteen humans and one pod, one of the white ones, gathered for the conference. Art sat uncomfortably on the great stone seat at one end of the oval table. Yelena sat next to him on a camp chair. The rest had a mixture of stools, slings and grav chairs. Art had to tell the pod that it was inappropriate for it to hover over the middle of the table and shooed it to the edge, where it hovered apparently in a sulk. Art opened the meeting.

  “Ladies and gentlemen and entity, we are here to decide on the future of the gateways and, hopefully, to forge a common cause. This grey oval,” said Art pointing to the impassive face a short distance away, “and the thousands like it around the galaxy are the most important discovery in history.”

  “In human history,” said the pod pedantically.

  “What right do we have to decide the future of these doorways?” said Becky, the legal minded recorder.

  There was a short pause as the company considered their claims. One of the voyageurs spoke first.

  “Well, we the Métis were the first humans to find the network of doorways,” said Captain Isoko sitting beside Dylan. “And the voyageurs have explored and mapped them for nearly a thousand years. In all that time, as far as we know, no-one else, human or alien has used the gateways. So we claim possession.”

  “I know it was almost by chance,” said Thistle, “but the Cult of Explorers were the ones who got control of the gateways. Suxie, here, found the alien Creators. They gave her the controller. It’s like they handed over the keys to us.” The ancient explorer sitting between Thistle and Nigeal smiled.

  “It was not by chance you met,” said the pod. “The Creators do not act idly. They let you find them, Suxie. That fact alone may bolster your claim. However, I believe, I also have a claim, as the only known offspring of the Creators.”

  “I’m not sure there are many legal courts in the human galaxy that would give a machine personality legal ownership of the gateways,” said Becky.

  “Becky, I am not a personality, I am an entity.”

  “And forget courts of law, Miss legal recorder” said Yelena. “The ship and I have the right of might, having just defeated the Imperial fleet at the battle of Chimera 1.”

  “Great headline!” said Becky. “Don’t forget I’m a reporter as well as a court recorder. This is all going to be brilliant in my autobiography.”

  “So, to sum up,” said Art, wanting to stop the discussion going off the rails altogether. “The voyagers have had vacant possession for a millennium; the explorers have been given the keys by the architects; Yelena has beaten off the opposition; and, the ship says it should inherit anyway. I guess the weight of evidence is conclusive. One way or another, this network to the stars is ours collectively, but what should we with this treasure?”

  “The doorways should be open to all,” said Suxie quietly but firmly.

  “The gateways will help unite humanity,” said the pod. “They must be open to all.”

  “We voyagers have always dreamt of using the paths to re-join human civilisation,” said Dylan. “With the exception of the one loop we discovered, we always thought the doorways were too far out on the edge of the galaxy to be of any practical use. Now, the ship says there may be many more loops connecting the inner regions. If it is true, we can reach any part of the galaxy using the network.”

  “I’m not sure that is such a good discovery,” said Yelena. “What’s to stop the Imperial fleet or other military aggressors using the network to spread war and conquest? If warships start using the orbital doorways, there’ll be plenty of planets wishing they were back in the days of post-plague isolation.”

  “We will stop them,” said the pod. “Together, Yelena, you and I halted the Imperial fleet. Together, all of us here will control the gateways.”

  “But there are thousands of doorways,” said Yelena, “and only one of you.”

  “I said ‘we,’ Yelena. The voyageurs and the explorers should be the guardians of the gateways.”

  “Explorers have always been unarmed missionaries. Our purpose is to spread the Good News,” said Suxie. “We’re teachers not soldiers.”

  “Voyagers have always been explorers,” said Captain Isoko. “We’re not fighters.”

  “No one is asking you to become warriors,” said Art. “We just want you to hold the keys.”

  The pod hovered a little higher at the edge of the table. “I can begin make enough controllers to equip every explorer and every voyager,” it said. “Your two societies have shown great dedication over the past thousand years. Now you can help humankind right across the galaxy.”

  “Many in the Cult of Explorers could be persuaded to use the orbital networks to spread their knowledge throughout the galaxy, while preventing conflict,” said Suxie.

  “There’ll be opposition from the authorities on Willow,”
said Thistle.

  “If so,” said Suxie, “we’ll do it without them. Most of our brothers and sisters are weary of the despots on Willow.”

  “We the voyageurs accept your mission,” said Dylan standing. “I have learnt that in recent years the numbers of those who travelled between the gateways has dwindled. The discoveries we have made in the past few days will rekindle enthusiasm. I can commit a new generation to travel between the stars and protect the doorways on the planets." Captain Ewoma Isoko stood beside Dylan and clasped his hand in hers.

  Thistle and Nigeal stood at their end of the table and helped Suxie to her feet.

  “We explorers also accept this new responsibility,” said the elderly woman. “We will be too will guard the gateways, with our lives in necessary.”

  “And if there’s any sign of trouble or aggression …” said Art.

  “You just lock the doors and call for help,” said Yelena “but the aim is to keep the gateways open.”

  “Open to all who travel in peace,” said Suxie, beaming once more.

  +

  In Sioux City on Dakota tens of thousands took part in the ticker tape parade though not one of them knew what a ticker tape was. A snowstorm of confetti and shredded paper whirled about as a gravity sledge carried Captain Ewoma Isoko and Dylan “the Devoted” Moran down the main street. One of the pods hovered between them. Art and Yelena sat near the rear of the float with Lea and Becky behind them. The two men waved enthusiastically at the crowd.

  “You’re both so embarrassing,” said Becky. “They’ve got no idea who you are.”

  “Hey, they know I’m sitting next to the most gorgeous girl in the sector,” said Lea grinning. Becky punched his shoulder.

  “I feel a fraud,” said Dylan to Captain Isoko almost having to shout to be heard over the cheering. “I mean, we never found the aliens and we still don’t know why we left.”

  Captain Isoko clasped Dylan’s hand and kissed him. “Oh, Dylan you’ve given our people a much higher purpose. We’re no longer voyageurs, were going to be Guardians of the Gateways.” Seeing the embrace, the crowd cheered louder still.