The Arwen Book two: Manifest Destiny

by Timothy P. Callahan

  “True,” Professor Ricter replied. He leaned back from his chair. “I find it hard to believe a population could get this large in a relatively short amount of time.”

  “Maybe we’ll find more when we get deeper into the system.” She looked over at her screen and frowned. “I think I read about computers like this when I was in history class.”

  “We all have.” Professor Ricter said looking back at his screen. “We need to bring someone over who can help network these computers with the Arwen’s. Do you know anyone who might be able to help?”

  “I think so. Juliet Monrow. She’s the sensor officer on the bridge. We had a nice talk one night when she was on duty and I couldn’t sleep. She’s pretty sharp and might be able to help us.”

  *****

  Commander Pippleton sat in the Captain’s chair looking closely at the readings. He had the Sensor officer scan everything she could find. He needed to get as much information as he could. When the Captain returned she would want to know as much as possible.

  Something inside him knew they would have to fight their way out. He did not trust Captain Ruzoto and he did not trust the aliens inside the Dyson Sphere. Everyone else seemed content to let things happen, not him.

  A light on his screen blinked, it was a call from Professor Ricter. “Yes, Professor?”

  “Commander, I was wondering if we could borrow one of your officers. Ensign Monrow, your sensor officer.”

  The Commander saw his sensor officer turn to face him. She had a strange look on her face. Confusion? It was hard for him to tell sometimes. “What do you need her for?”

  “Doctor Lipton thinks she could help us connect the computers we have here with the computers on the Arwen.”

  The Commander looked down at her. “Do you think you can help?”

  “I can try,” she replied. “I know our system very well and if I can figure out theirs I’m sure we can do something.”

  “Okay, fine.” The Commander replied. “Get your replacement up here. Professor, will you send someone to meet her and show her where she needs to go?”

  “Of course, Doctor Lipton is on her way now. Thank you, Commander. Have you heard anything from the Captain?”

  “No, not yet. She should be checking in soon, if I have anything to report I’ll contact you.” He shut the communication system down and watched as his Sensor officer leave.

  Something was amiss; he could feel it. That nagging feeling all Ulliam got before the start of a battle. He felt anxious; he wanted to put on some armor, grab some weapons and head out to guard those inside the base. He wanted to run to Captain Cook and order her back to her ship. Commander Pippleton trusted his instincts. Something bad was going to happen, and he would be damned if he was going to be unprepared. Turning the computer on, he started to write up orders and commands. Once he was done he sent them to the various individuals. Within a few moments, he received replied confirming his orders. His shoulders moved upwards just a hair. A satisfied feeling moved through his body. The warrior in him was happy; he would be ready for the battles to come.

  ******

  The silver ball floated in front of Marjorie and gave off a strange humming noise. It was large, about the size of a room, and had a smooth surface. It looked like liquid mercury floating in zero gravity. “This is a wormhole,” she said reaching out with her had to touch it, fearful of what might happen if she did.

  “It sure is,” Captain Ruzoto said. “You seemed surprised.”

  “I am. The only way we know how to create a wormhole is to create a Strangelet and we need to do it in the vacuum of space. If a Strangelet touch anything it turns it into a Strangelet.”

  “That sound dangerous.”

  “You have no idea,” Marjorie replied remembering the destruction Strangelet missiles caused in her last battle. The battle that killed Kel, the battle where she nearly killed herself. “How do you create it?”

  “I don’t know,” He laughed. “I asked once and they told me I’d never understand the science. I couldn’t argue the point. This one leads to the Dyson sphere. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  He walked into the silver sphere and disappeared. Marjorie hesitated. She had never traveled through wormhole space without a ship. How would she breathe if she got stuck? How did she know this wasn’t some elaborate trap?

  “Silly thoughts,” she said to herself. “If they wanted to capture me they would have.” She took a deep breath, held it, and then stepped into the silver ball.

  The journey was fast, faster than an eye blink. A steam of silver past her like a flashbulb going off and, before she knew it, she was standing in another room. There were some chairs, a computer and monitor on top of what looked like an oak desk. A green rug lay upon the ground, and the walls were painted a soft white. Newman stood in front of a window and waved her over to him.

  Marjorie looked out the window to see the most glorious sight she’s ever seen. It was like being on the inside of a ball. The sky curved around in all directions. It was a structure composed of billions, maybe trillions, of perfectly carved squares. The sun shined brightly. If not for the polarized glass, she would have been blinded. It was an odd blue color which gave the room she was in a strange indigo hue. She could see thousands of tiny ships, which she was sure were very large but looked small since they were so far away, move around in the space between her and the sun.

  The beauty if it made her cry. She looked over at Newman, who just grinned. “I had the same reaction when I saw it.”

  “You can’t honestly tell me you’re used to it.”

  “No, hardly. I still can’t wrap my mind around it all. The engineering of it is beyond anything we’ve ever come up with.”

  She continued to watch the ships. One of them moved close enough for her to see some more detail. The front of the ship was a massive hole which was sucking up dust. It didn’t seem to have ann engine and she wondered if it was merely using the gravity of the sun for propulsion. Newman saw her looking. “They gather the dust and use it to help them build the sphere. I’m pretty sure there were planets here at one point. They used them first and are now just cleaning up.”

  “I don’t think any system with more than a few thousands planets could build something this big.”

  “No, probably not. The Hander’s influence goes beyond this system. I think they gather rouge planets, planets around other star systems, and the dust from the cluster and us for the resources they need.”

  “I hope there wasn’t any life on any of the planets they use.”

  Newman didn’t reply and instead turned Marjorie’s attention to something else. He pointed to one of the black squares. “Those are solar panels. They absorb all the sun's output. It's what keeps the Sphere powered and makes it possible for the Handlers to live.”

  “You know so much about the workings of the sphere, you’ve had some contact with them, and surely you can tell me something about them.”

  He looked around nervously. “They’ll hear me.”

  “I gathered that much,” Marjorie replied. “I figured they’re studying me just like they studied you. I can’t really do anything about that but if I could, I’d like to know all there is to know.”

  He considered this for a moment. “I do know is they live a very long time and reproduce like crazy.”

  “How long do they live for?”

  “They can live forever.”

  “Forever?”

  “Let me show you.” Newman walked across the room to the wormhole they had entered. Next to it was a small control panel. After pressing a few buttons he turned back to Marjorie. “Follow me.” He stepped through.

  Where are you taking me now? Marjorie thought. How far do I trust him? The more wormholes we go through the further away from the Arwen I am. She hesitated for a moment before realizing that if she didn’t follow him, if she didn’t trust him, she would never see the wonders on the other side of that wormhole.

  She walked through the whitish-g
rey hole in space and entered the stream. The universe of Wormhole Beta engulfed her like an infinitely large blanket. She felt warm, comfortable. When she stepped out of the wormhole, she found herself standing before Newman who took her hand and stabled her as she took her first few steps.

  “Thank you,” she replied and looked around. The room looked old, dark and unfamiliar. She saw furniture that was not meant for a human, at least not comfortably. What she could only assume was a chair or bed was long and flat, almost like a bench you might find in a locker room. It had several poles sticking out from all sides. No human could fit between the many spikes and no one would want too. In front of that was a bookcase looking piece of furniture. It had six holes along the side and large hole through the top. It stood around six feet tall, a little higher than Newman and about nine inches taller than Marjorie.

  Feeble light shined through an open window illuminating dust which they had disturbed by walking around. The window was dark, but that didn’t fully explain the dimness of the room. Newman wiped some of the crude away and pointed. “We’re in abandoned Dyson Sphere. They stayed here until the sun died out.”

  She looked out and saw a tiny ember of light. It looked no bigger than the Moon as seen from Earth and shined about as bright as the sun as seen from Jupiter. She looked around and saw that this resembled the Sphere she had just left only the panels were scorched and blackened. As her eyes adjusted to the light she could see debris in orbit around the dead star. They were panels, the panels from the sphere that had been blown off when the star went nova. “How long ago did this happen?”

  “Well, first the star went into the red giant stage, and that lasted a while then it collapsed in on itself and went supernova and now; it's a white dwarf."

  Marjorie thought about this. This star had died millions of years before man first stood upright. It might have gone nova while dinosaurs walked the Earth. “If it went nova, what happened to the nebula gas?”

  Newman shrugged. “They used it for material to build other spheres The Handlers who tend to me were here. They witnessed the destruction of the star and helped gather all the gas.”

  “That would mean-“

  Newman interrupted. “They are very, very old.”

  “Do you think I’ll get a chance to talk to them?”

  “Maybe,” he replied. “We need to head back. I'm starving, and I really want to know what’s going on with Earth since I was away.”

  *****

  Juliet couldn’t believe she was actually doing something other than staring at a computer screen. She was still looking at a computer screen, a rather old one, but she was helping with the mission instead of yelling out readings.

  Professor Ricter paced behind her making her nervous. She was trained to think and work under intense pressure, but his very presence made it difficult to do either without questioning herself. She finished her examination of the computer then turned in her chair to face Fran. “I’m going to need cable, lots of it. I think we can connect each one of these computers to our system and use that to break into their mainframe.”

  “Are you sure?” Professor Ricter asked.

  “Not completely sure. I won’t know until we hook everything up.”

  The Professor gave a nod to Fran. “Contact the Commander, ask him for some cables and some of his computer engineers.” He turned to Juliet. “Thank you for your help. I think we can handle it from here.”

  She looked up at Fran, confused. “I thought I would stay here.”

  “Fine,” Professor Ricter said. “Don’t get in the way of the professionals.”

  She was about to say something when Fran placed a hand on her shoulder. Juliet looked up and Fran just shook her head. “Come on, we’ll take a walk to the ship.” Fran said almost pulling Juliet away.

  “Is he always like that?” Juliet asked.

  “He’s actually mellowed,” Fran replied. “When we first met it took him two weeks before he could remember my name.”

  “I think he just needs a good woman.” Juliet replied, surprised she had said it.

  Fran laughed and they passed through the door onto the platform. “He has one,” she said pointing to the Arwen.

  “Are him and Captain Cook together?”

  “They’re very close, but I don’t think they’ve ever gotten together.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I don’t,” Fran replied as the two walked into the awaiting shuttle. “But you can sort of tell when someone is sleeping with someone, and I don’t think they are. Personally, I can’t see it. They work so well together as friends that a real relationship would probably destroy that.”

  “Couples can’t work together?”

  Fran lowered her head and, for a second, Juliet saw a flash of sadness cross her face. She felt so blind and stupid. “I’m sorry. I forgot you met your husband onboard the Arwen while working together, didn’t you?”

  “The same mission I met Professor Ricter. We discovered not too long after we were married we couldn’t work together. Even if he was military and I was science, there was always a tension at home, especially if I had to ask for something and he had to refuse. Eventually we decided to work in different locations. He worked in space while I worked on Ulliam. I lost him during the Gyssyc war.”

  Juliet remembered the Gyssyc war very well. She was assigned to one of the moon bases. She had just missed being killed when a Gyssyc gamma beam sliced through the station. Forty of her friends died that day. Her stomach quivered when she thought what would have happened had she been there. “I think everyone lost someone in that war.”

  “We’re alive now,” Fran said. “That’s something. However, the Professor’s not a bad guy once you get used to him.”

  “Not sure I really want to get used to him,” Juliet replied dryly.

  Chapter eighteen

  Marjorie hesitated before walking into the room. She continued to have the lingering feeling she had been in this room before and it wasn’t a good experience. That wasn’t possible, she knew that yet, the feeling persisted even as she felt Newman give her a gentle push in her lower back. “Is everything okay?”

  “Ever have that feeling of Deja vu?”

  “Not too often.” He dismissed. “Please, take a seat. I’ll go get the food.”

  “They let you cook?” Marjorie asked taking the seat.

  “I need to do something to keep me sane. They give me the basic ingredients and I figured out the best way to make them taste good. It took a lot of trial and error to get to the point I’m at. I’m going to make you the best dish I can.” He smiled and walked out into another room. Moments later Marjorie heard the clanking of dishes.

  She took the time to walk around, absorbing her location. She was impressed with how much he made this room look like a normal, ordinary living room. His handlers provided him with almost everything to make living here tolerable. A dark-brown leather couch sat a few yards away. In front of that was a coffee table which had some sort of computer sitting on top of it. Underneath the table was an area rug, it reminded her an oriental rug complete with dozens of tassels on both ends.

  She looked up and saw the ceiling itself was glowing, producing a soft and somewhat pleasant light. Seeing all the amenities made her feel comfortable. This was just a dinner with another Captain. No different than if he had come to the Arwen to eat.

  The smell of fish, or something similar, wafted from the kitchen area. She heard a loud pop, followed by some sizzling. He must be frying something. She recalled the food from his time period, high in fat and calories with almost no thought given to nutrition; it was all taste. Thanks to advances in genetically engineered foods what she ate now was tasty, low in fat and good for you. She hoped whatever it was he was making wouldn’t make her sick.

  “This is some place,” she said. “How long did it take you to convince them to give you all this?”

  “Not long, didn’t even have to starve myself for it.” He yelled. “They actu
ally asked me what I wanted. Guess they knew I would need a comfortable place to live. The only thing they didn’t understand was television. They knew what it was, but didn’t see the practicality of it since they couldn’t broadcast anything.”

  The door opened and he walked in carrying two glasses. Each glass had a thick, orange liquid in it. “This is pretty much all they have to drink,” he said. “I know ways of making it taste like other things, so I decided to make this batch taste like Merlot.”

  “Nice,” Marjorie said taking the glass. She sniffed it and, to her surprise, it actually did smell like Merlot.

  He held the glass up. “To meeting the Captain of the-“ he stopped in mid sentence. “You know; I don’t think you ever told me what the name of your ship was and I didn’t see it written when you landed.”

  “It’s the Arwen.”

  He smiled. “To meet the Captain of the Arwen.” They clinked their glasses together.

  Marjorie took a sip of hers and placed the glass down on the table. It felt warm going into her belly, a warmth that quickly radiated out toward her limbs. She arched her eyebrows upward. “Wow, that’s pretty good.”

  “I know.” He placed his drink back on the table, turned and walked into the kitchen.

  Marjorie looked at the drink and took another sip. It was really good. It tasted like no wine she had ever drunk before. The feeling after the warmth went away reminded her of what she felt like after a long, deep, restful sleep. She was surprised to find, after just a few minutes, she finished the entire glass. She ran her fingers along the inside to gather as much of the stuff as she could, she then licked the drops off her fingers.

  The door opened just as she finished the very last of it. She held the glass up. “That was fantastic. Can I have some more?”

  He smiled and took the glass. “I have plenty. What do you want it to taste like this time?”

  “How about chocolate milk?” She replied suddenly feeling giddy. She wanted to laugh like a little kid, laugh like she used to before all the responsibility of life crashed down on her killing all she loved.