The Unreachable Stars: Book #11 of The Human Chronicles Saga

by T. R. Harris

  “He says he can build a device to detect the location of all trans-dimensional portals.”

  “That’s it—a detector?” shouted the president.

  “If we know where they’re coming in, we can concentrate all our forces there and shut down the arrays,” Tobias countered. “We’ve done it before, and it was effective.”

  “Until they build other portals,” Hardy added. “And at what cost? You know how many people would lose their lives fighting the SK’s to the last ship, even if we can cut off their reinforcements?”

  “This time we’ll know where they are and be able to take them out before too many ships can come through. It’s not a perfect solution—and it will take a lot of manpower—and lives—to shut down the portals. But once the doors are closed, we will eventually be rid of the Sol-Kor for good.”

  “Cain believes the mutant can really build such a detector?” Hardy said, shaking his head. “How can he build something that can detect a portal anywhere in the galaxy? That’s a lot of area to cover with a single device.”

  “I have no idea, Jack, but Captain Cain said something about these portals disturbing the harmonics of the universe. Panur’s device can pick up these disturbances.”

  “Universal harmonics? I’ve never heard of such a thing. How does he propose to monitor these so-called disturbances within a medium that probably doesn’t even exist?” Hardy looked at the president and laughed. “Sounds like the admiral’s Captain Cain has been duped.”

  Tobias was getting frustrated, not liking the tone of the conversation. Hardy, the chief scientist in the Union, was acting like a jealous employee trying to curry favor from the boss by criticizing another person’s work.

  “Panur invented the trans-dimensional portal in the first place, along with a crapload of other things. I don’t think we’re capable of making a rational judgement as to the validity of his claims. That’s not a reflection on anyone’s intelligence or expertise. It’s just that we don’t know what the mutant knows.”

  “That may be so,” Hardy said in his defense, taking Andy’s comments as a personal affront to his intelligence and expertise. “But there are basic laws of nature that I fully understand, and I have to tell you, I’ve never even heard of universal harmonics, let alone a way to read them.”

  Cain had provided Andy with more detail about the detector, yet he hesitated telling Hardy about it. It sounded too much like science fiction—and although he should expect a more cerebral reaction from Hardy if he told him, considering the scientist’s current attitude about Panur, he was afraid the man would discount the information just out of spite.

  “Is there more, Admiral?” Osbourne asked, sensing Andy’s hesitation to proceed. “If he told you more, let it out. That’s an order.”

  Well, that’s it, Tobias thought. And who knows, maybe a light will go off in Hardy’s mind and all of this will make sense to him. After all, he’s supposed to be smarter than the rest of us with regards to black holes and white dwarf stars. Andy took a deep breath and then proceeded to tell the other two men exactly what Adam had told him. When he was done, it didn’t take long for his worst-case scenario to manifest itself.

  “That crazy bastard is planning on crashing a black hole into a star?” Now it was Hardy who was red-faced. “Even if it could be done, that would result in a catastrophic nova explosion and gamma ray burst. If any inhabited worlds are in line with the burst, they’ll be wiped out as effectively as if the Sol-Kor had harvested the planet. Did he say where this is to take place?”

  “No, he didn’t, but he also said that Panur could control the collision so that a nova explosion wouldn’t happen.”

  Again Hardy laughed while looking from Andy to the president and back again. “First of all, he says he can maneuver a black hole—which in itself is absurd—and then secondly he can control the impact with such precision that he can actually regulate the resulting explosion? Am I the only one who finds this to be utter fantasy?”

  “So you can’t see this working?” Osbourne asked his lead scientist.

  “Not in a millions years—or five thousand in this case. I don’t give a damn how smart everyone thinks this mutant is, black holes can’t be steered and nova explosions can’t be controlled. Panur’s playing Cain for the fool that he is, keeping him thinking that there’s an alternative to turning him over to us. Even if he can get a black hole to collide with a white dwarf, we’re talking about galactic forces here. There would simply be no way to guarantee a controlled explosion.”

  “Don’t take this wrong, Jack,” said Andy, “but the alien is a little bit smarter than you. You would have been first in line to say that travel between dimensions was impossible—”

  “On the contrary, Admiral, up until the Sol-Kor arrived there had been a lot of speculation about how that could be achieved. Given a thousand years, we could be building trans-dimensional portals ourselves, even without the help of the Sol-Kor or the Klin. But this, this is beyond speculation.” Hardy focused on the president. “Listen to me, Michael, if Panur is allowed to do what he’s proposing, he will cause a massive nova explosion, and depending on what star he chooses, it could go supernova. If that happens, any world within five hundred light-years will be bathed in deadly radiation, even those spared from the gamma ray burst. Sure, it will take time for the effects of the explosion to propagate through space, but the entire region around the exploding star will be doomed, and there’ll be nothing we can do about it except evacuate entire planets of all their intelligent life.”

  “And he didn’t give any clue as to where they’re planning this?” Osbourne asked.

  That’s when Andy knew he’d lost the battle—perhaps even the war. He shook his head.

  “It would have to be a white dwarf star with a companion black hole,” Hardy said with urgency. “Also the core of the star will have to be cool enough to allow for carbon to crystalize. A simple data search should be able to identify all the candidates in the galaxy. There can’t be too many with just the right combination of components. The ones with the closest black holes should be our priority.”

  “Priority?” Tobias asked.

  “Yes, Admiral,” President Osbourne said. “Priority if we are to stop Panur from even attempting his harebrained scheme…and capture him for return to the Sol-Kor.”

  Admiral Andy Tobias grimaced. It seemed his noble attempt at vindicating Adam Cain had backfired. Now there was an even greater chance that his friend wouldn’t live out the week.

  Chapter 15

  After the mid-day festivities, Arieel Bol, Speaker of the Formilian People, the High Celebrant, the Giver of Life and Light, was escorted back to her chambers within the Temple Complex. To those around her, she kept up a pleasant demeanor, but her mind was in turmoil. Had she really agreed to do the impossible, the unthinkable? Give up the very Gift that gave purpose to her life?

  Her Gift gave her the ability to communicate with the gods of her people, the polar opposites, Mislin and Sufor. Yes, she realized it was more about what they represented than actual beings. They were the powers of positive and negative that allowed electrical charges to exist, the personification of the electromagnetic force that bound the universe together, and which her people were masters at utilizing.

  It was because of her people’s devotion to their gods that the Formilians had even developed such skills. Without such beliefs, none of their technological progress would have been made. Across the galaxy, Formilian electrical devices and controllers were used on thousands of worlds and by countless beings. Commercial trade in these devices fueled the Formilian economy, allowing them to survive wars and tumult simply because their technology was so vital. It made her people immune to the normal political and military machinations that were common on every other world and throughout the Expansion.

  The people of Formil felt above the fray when it came to troubles that plagued the galaxy. At least they had, until invaders had come from outside the universe, creatures who w
ere not dependent on their planet for their technology. So far Arieel’s world had not been directly threatened, and had been presented with the same offer of immunity from attack by the Sol-Kor for the return of Panur, yet the general populace was unaware of this. Only the priests knew, and they had wholeheartedly joined in the effort to locate the mutant, with the expressed declaration that the life of Adam Cain was expendable in this quest.

  Because of Arieel’s involvement with Adam and the Sol-Kor at the outset of the crisis, she understood that the threat was real, even if the majority of her people did not. She had seen the Sol-Kor up close, had seen the aliens for who they really were—heartless, conniving, self-centered. It didn’t take much for Arieel to see them reneging on any treaty they were party to.

  As the leader of a planet—indeed a civilization—she always had more than her fair share of advisors harping at her, yet in this case she was totally alone; no one would believe her, which was a new experience for her. The only person she felt she could confide in was her daughter, Lila. They shared a special bond, even if the child did frighten her…

  “Mother, I sense worry in you like I have never felt before.”

  Arieel had felt the presence of her daughter when the child entered her private chambers. Their Gifts were so well tuned to one another that breaking the link between them for some privacy was becoming more and more difficult, even if neither had sought such accommodations—until now.

  Arieel looked up to where the security camera had been placed on the ceiling above her bed. There were eight more spread throughout the chambers, where before there had been none. Now she could not sleep, eat, or work unobserved. She was even watched while in the grooming stations and when indulging in the Formilian obsession with sexual activities. Although her people were much more open about this than other races—with Arieel allowed to share many partners even if Trimen O’lac, the First Celebrant, was her official mate—the idea of uninvited observation did dampen her spirit, as well as the enjoyment.

  The cameras also had audio pickups.

  We are being observed, Arieel thought to her daughter.

  I am aware of that. “The ceremony today was quite enjoyable. I am sure you are just tired from all the festivities.” I will keep our thoughts private.

  “Yes, I am tired. The food was enjoyable, yet the heat took its toll.” I am troubled, my daughter. I have a very serious decision to make, indeed a commitment I have already made.

  Arieel watched as her six-year-old daughter slipped onto the bed and wrapped an arm around her. She was growing at an incredible rate, much faster than a normal Formilian child. And her intellect was now that of a young adult, maybe higher. She was in training to be the next Speaker, and this kept her out of the spotlight most of the time, yet her abnormalities could not be hidden from the Order. There was talk. Lila was not normal.

  “Perhaps you should nap. I will remain with you for comfort.” Please tell me what is wrong. I know I am just a child, but I feel I can still contribute.

  “Yes, I will lie down and sleep. I welcome your presence.” You are far beyond a child, and you must know how unusual that is.

  Mother and daughter cuddled together on the huge bed, both aware that their every movement was being observed and recorded, including their rapid eye movement. Anyone watching would also know there was nothing to keep the two from carrying on whatever conversation they wanted. They were the only two Formilians to have the Gift of the gods imbedded under their skin.

  As time goes by I am realizing that more and more, Lila thought. I only hope it will slow at some point, else I grow old and die long before my time.

  Arieel trembled at the thought of her daughter dying—for any reason. And that was when she firmed her resolve and decided to tell Lila everything—almost everything.

  When she was through, she sensed fear in her daughter.

  I have only had my Gift for a relatively short while, yet I know how enlightening it is, how important it is to both me and to the Order. I understand the seriousness of the need, and will therefore agree, yet I have more concern for you than for myself. How can you possibly live without your Gift?

  That remains to be seen, although I now believe that either way my time is nearing an end. I will either die from the loss of the Gift, or by means of the Sol-Kor. However, if it is the latter, that means all of us will die as well. I’m willing to sacrifice myself if it will save my people.

  I, too, feel that way. If this is what is needed, then together we will make the sacrifice.

  I do not want you to die. The effect on you will not be as traumatic. Promise me you will fight to live, fight to assume a normal existence once the Gift is removed.

  I will, Mother. I promise. Yet I will also fight for you. Together we will survive. There was life before the Gift, and there will be life afterwards.

  Arieel pulled her daughter even closer to her. These cannot be the thoughts of one so young?

  I know I am different. For what purpose I do not know. What shall we do next?

  There is a Council meeting in two days. Afterwards, I will pass the Temple landing field. I will demand a starship. Meet me there at Night-8.

  There will be questions.

  I know. But in the confusion that will result, we can take our leave quickly before others with more authority arrive.

  Can you pilot a starship?

  I have had some training. I will get us off the planet and race into space. Hopefully by then, Adam Cain will be near to protect us.

  I am quite anxious to meet your Adam Cain.

  He is not my Adam Cain…

  Mother, I know your thoughts, your feelings.

  Of course, forgive me. Still, he is not mine, and never shall be.

  We shall see. Now, please, do get some rest. Once we begin this journey it will be long before we can enjoy such time again.

  ********

  The Council meeting adjourned early, as the First Celebrant Trimen O’lac and two other Council members were absent. Arieel contributed little to the meeting; her presence there merely a formality, as she was required to be privy to all decisions of the Order Council.

  As she walked through the Temple grounds, thick with the fragrance of rilic blossoms in the cool night air, she almost forgot what a pivotal moment this was for her, as well as for all the Formilian people. That it was such a pleasant evening only added to her anxiety.

  Looking at the soft Temple lighting and the high masonry wall surrounding the complex, she could see the physical boundaries of her normal life. This was her home—not only her home planet—and where she’d spent nearly her entire life. Her mother had been Speaker, and hers before that. The line continued unbroken for the past two thousand years. Arieel was born, raised, and educated within the Temple Complex; she knew every structure, every tree, every bench placed around the compound where she used to rest, play, or simply observe the goings-on of the Temple staff, visitors, and officials. There was safety and security here.

  Could she really leave it all behind? She suddenly felt nauseated.

  If the Sol-Kor were indeed destined to consume the people of her planet, that might not happen for many years. During that time she could continue to live her normal life within familiar surroundings, with her Gift and with her daughter. But that would be selfish on her part: sacrificing her civilization just so she could have a few more years of relative normalcy as she hid away from the terror of the flesh-eating invaders. What of the future? What of all the Formilians to come after her? If she gave in to her selfishness, there would be none beyond her.

  She was nearing the gate to the spaceport, which was affecting her like an episode of vertigo, drawing her toward an open abyss, yawning and unknown. The closer her entourage came, the more her vision became focused on the pillared entrance, until there was such a silent screaming in her mind that she wanted to press her hands to her temples to make it stop.

  Instead, she turned and entered the spaceport, surprising not only
the members of her entourage, but herself as well.

  Her six escorts rushed quickly to her side.

  “My Speaker, where are you going? Do we need to make preparations?”

  “That will not be necessary.” She had already located a smallish starship and communicated this to Lila. The child was waiting near the entrance hatch, an escort of her own standing beside her, looking confused and impotent.

  As Arieel strode up to the ship with confidence and purpose, she spoke to her escort. “My daughter and I will be going aboard for a tour, alone. You will remain outside unless summoned.”

  “But My Speaker, that cannot be allowed,” said her Lead-Attendant, a male named Frosk. He was one of her regular sexual partners and had become quite intimate with her lately. Through this intimacy he apparently believed he had some license for which he was not entitled.

  Already nervous and on edge, Arieel snapped at him. “Did you say that is not allowed? That I am not allowed? Is that what you are telling me?”

  Frosk was taken aback by the ferocity of the questioning. “It is just that we have orders not to lose sight of you.”

  “Orders? I assume these orders have come from a higher authority than the Speaker of the Formilian People?”

  “There is no higher authority, My Speaker,” Frosk conceded. “Yet…”

  “Yet, what?”

  Frosk was at a loss for words. Finally he stepped back. “Please proceed with your tour, My Speaker. It is not my place to question your actions.”

  “That is correct.” Arieel and Lila entered the starship, even as Frosk lifted his communication module to his lips and began to speak.

  After securing the outer hatch, the two females rushed to the flight deck of the ship. Arieel had chosen this vessel because its small size made it capable of being piloted by an individual, yet it was swift enough to leave the system at a respectable speed. But as she took the pilot’s seat, she found the controls to be intimidating. She knew what they were, and she knew she could pilot the craft. It was just that the moment of actual execution made her hesitate.