by Nick Webb
“You may have gotten Granger, but you’re not getting Hotbox.”
And before Granger could say anything else, Hotbox’s fighter exploded into a brief fireball as Volz squeezed off a few dozen shots. “Dammit,” he breathed, then waved over to Polrum Krull. “Call them off. Call them off!”
On the monitor, he saw the Skiohra shuttles move away, back toward the dreadnought. Volz’s fighter had finally come within meters of Fishtail’s, though they were both still sailing straight for the debris cloud, now less than a minute away.
The hatch blew, and Volz launched himself out of the cockpit. A safety cord was tied around his waist, and as he sailed past the open hatch, he grabbed it and pushed himself toward Fishtail’s fighter. In a breath-taking twisting maneuver, he managed to catch one of her fighter’s gun barrels in one hand, and swung himself up toward the hatch of her cockpit. He keyed in an emergency open command, and the hatch swung open, letting him reach in to pull her restraints loose.
But it was too late. They were in the debris cloud. And even as Volz pulled Fishtail loose, a chunk of rock struck her in the helmet, denting it, and a stream of smaller pellets showered them and the fighters.
Chapter 67
Executive Command Center, Russian Singularity Production Facility
High Orbit, Penumbra Three
Volz’s voice came through the comm—the Volz onboard the Victory. “Uh, sir, I don’t think I’m pulling out of that.”
Granger leaned forward toward the speaker. “Ballsy? Are you sure? I mean, you’re here, right? You made it.”
“I’m saying that my memories stop here. I either got hit on the head or passed out or maybe I just don’t remember what happened, but after I reached Fishtail … I don’t remember anything past that. I got back in my fighter and then … nothing. The next thing I remember was seeing the Warrior out my window, with Fishtail on my lap.”
Even as Volz described it, they all watched the monitor as the old Volz dragged Fishtail behind him as he pulled his way back along the cord toward his own fighter, struggling through a shower of terrifyingly fast rocks and pellets. There was no way he was going to be able find the singularity he’d come out of. Hell, he wasn’t even sure Proctor could find it even using the Victory’s sensors.
Granger spun around to Polrum Krull. “Quickly. Can you manipulate the singularities? Can you do it from here?”
Polrum Krull navigated through a series of submenus on the console. “Yes. All latent singularities can be accessed from here. All I have to do is send out a focused graviton beam coupled with phased meta-space—”
“Just do it. Open the one he came out of, and send it toward him. Can you do that? Can you move them?”
Polrum Krull didn’t reply, but furiously worked the controls. “Beam initiated, and integrated into singularity 8013b. It’s opening. I’m feeding it mass—it needs to be at least half the mass of the fighter if they want any hope of surviving the fall—”
The cloud of debris showering them was getting denser. Luckily they were inside the fighter by then, but one well-placed rock could fly right through their viewport at any moment. “Just move it into their path. They’re out of time.”
Proctor pointed to the monitor. “Tim, that chunk of ice is going to hit them. It’s going almost one kilometer per second—they’re not going to survive that.”
“Polrum, now!” Granger yelled.
Polrum Krull touched a spot on the console, and moments later, the fighter disappeared with a brief flash of light.
Granger breathed a tentative sigh of relief. “Any way to tell if they made it through?”
Polrum Krull nodded. “The singularity did not collapse. I was able to grow it enough that they safely passed though.”
Proctor eased up behind Polrum Krull’s chair. “So if the singularity is too small in relation to the mass suddenly falling it, it collapses?”
“Catastrophically,” said Polrum Krull, nodding. She was picking up human mannerisms. “And the effect is channeled up the graviton beam we use to control it. If the object going through is a small fraction of the singularity’s mass, the beam—and the source of the beam—is relatively unaffected. But as the mass of the object increases up toward double the singularity’s mass, the effect becomes catastrophic, and will destroy the source of the beam. That is how you destroyed those Valarisi ships over Earth four months ago. The Constitution was just a hair over double the singularity’s mass, and because the three carriers were still linked to it when you went in, they didn’t survive.”
“Then how did we survive just now? Didn’t the beam originate from somewhere here at the station?” Proctor was studying the data readouts, her brow furrowed.
“Because I shut it off right before impact,” said Polrum Krull. “I have no death wish.”
Before Granger could ask any more details, one of the marines came in. “Sir, I thought you should know. He’s—you’re … awake again.”
Chapter 68
Executive Command Center, Russian Singularity Production Facility
High Orbit, Penumbra Three
Granger raced back across the common area, past the giant window, and came up to the doorway of the hospital room. Outside, two marines still stood guard, assault rifles at the ready, pointed into the room, keeping their sights trained on the patient inside.
He looked into the room. The other version of him was not in the bed, but standing up, right next to the window, looking down at the planet below. He wasn’t making any provocative movements, not saying anything. Just watching through the window, calmly.
“Do you remember this?” whispered Proctor in his ear.
He nodded. The more time went by, and especially now that he was watching the situation unfold again, but from a different perspective, he did remember.
And so it was with confidence that he strode into the room, pulling the door shut behind himself. The two marines were probably have aneurisms watching him walk into danger like that without an escort. Screw ‘em. He knew exactly what the other version of him was feeling at the moment.
Longing.
And he, current Granger, needed to grill himself, and the Swarm inhabiting his body.
“Nice view from up here,” he said. The other Granger didn’t even turn.
“It is. So peaceful. You’d never know that the Adanasi were up here planning our destruction the whole time. We see why you fight them.”
Granger stayed by the door. No sense in endangering himself unnecessarily. “Frankly, I’d do the same. In fact, I’m still planning on it.”
Old Granger chuckled. “What’s the point, Tim? Soon, very soon, we’ll have you back, as well as all of the Adanasi. We will all be one. We’ll bring the Skiohra back into the fold—such a shame that they fell by the wayside. A flaw in the design of the virus flowing through their blood—a flaw we’ve already corrected. They’ll be with us again soon. The Adanasi, the Skiohra, the Dolmasi, the Valarisi, the other two races you haven’t even met yet—the Findiri and Quiassi. And us. Seven peoples. One family.”
“Who is us?”
“All of us. Me. You. Everyone on this station. We are all us. We will all be family, friends, bound by unity and purpose.” Old Granger finally turned around and took a few steps toward Granger.
He made a gambit. “You’re so sure of yourselves. So cocky. Arrogant. It will be your undoing. Even now, I’ve putting into motion the operation that will finally destroy you.”
Old Granger chuckled again. “Believe me, that planet down there is completely safe from you. We have nothing to fear.”
“That’s not what I was referring to. I’m not attacking the planet. I’m attacking you. The link to our universe you come through.”
Old Granger stopped. “Impossible.”
“Don’t believe me? Try me. You’ve got my body there. You can reach into his mind. Am I a gambler? Do I bluff? Come now, you know I never bluff, because you’re me. I’m telling you, I’m warning you—leave our un
iverse now, before it’s too late.”
Old Granger cocked his head. “I’ll concede that you don’t bluff. We’ve explored your mind thoroughly. So sad—so much potential. And yet you’ve wasted your entire career as a second-rate commander, always setting yourself up for failure, going against your senior commanders, making enemies where you should have been making friends, sabotaging your career because—” the other man smiled, “Oh, this is rich. You’ve been sabotaging yourself because you’ve got this self-conscious chip on your shoulder. You were an average student, with average evaluations from your superiors, and you’ve been an average officer. You’re self conscious that you never rose to greater heights. And so you tried to self destruct by playing the rebel, the curmudgeon, the insubordinate bastard.”
“You’re stalling,” said Granger. “You know we’ve found your link to your universe, that we’re about to shut it. So all you can do is stall for time and hope I fail. I assure you, I won’t.”
Old Granger laughed. A cold, mirthless laugh. “You think you can close it? Really? You’re delusional. There’s no way you’d ever get that much mass out there.”
“You think I’m bluffing?” said Granger.
“Then what are you doing here? You’re here because you’re unsure of yourself. You see yourself here, from the past, wondering what will happen if you don’t get me back to my proper place, back there on a burning Constitution falling down toward Earth.”
“Hardly. I’m only here to stall, and draw your attention away from what I’m doing to close your link.”
Old Granger’s smile faded. “Impossible. There’s no way to close a naturally occurring black hole.”
The black hole. Proctor was wrong.
He turned back to the door. “Thank you. That’s the piece I was missing. You’ve been most helpful, friends.”
He pulled the door open and walked through. To his right were the two marines with rifles at the ready, to the left was Proctor, brandishing the meta-syringe filled with more sedative. He gave a quick nod to her, indicating she knock the other Granger out, who was now pursuing him through the doorway.
Old Granger passed the threshold, and before he could react, Proctor pressed the syringe up to his back. He collapsed almost instantly.
“And? I could only hear snippets,” said Proctor. Polrum Krull emerged from the lab containing the meta-space control room.
“We were wrong. The black hole is it.”
“But, there are millions of black holes just in our galaxy.”
“This one could be special,” he said, glancing over at Polrum Krull. Do your people have any ideas? What do your Children say?”
Polrum Krull paused for a few moments, as if considering the possibility. “We’ve been debating this point nonstop since our awakening two days ago. Our knowledge of quantum singularity science is rudimentary, but we suppose that since the Swarm is able to reach through into our universe, it’s possible they could have been doing it through the black hole for the past ten thousand years. But what explains the one hundred and fifty year cycle?”
Proctor tapped her chin. “Ensign Roth was telling me that the fifth planet in the Penumbra system—a huge gas giant—has an orbital period of one hundred and fifty years. Could they be related?”
Polrum Krull closed her eyes. No one said anything for another few moments.
“Polrum?”
“My Children are performing simulations. Modeling the possibility the gas giant would have an effect.”
“They can do that?” said Granger.
“The Interior Life is different than the Exterior Life, Captain. You learn to be more focused, to concentrate better, to model the world around you. Since they can’t see it and experience it for themselves, they must model it.” She opened her eyes. “And what they tell me, is that yes, it is possible. The gas giant orbits the star and black hole binary, or rather, their center of mass. The barycenter. But the gas giant’s orbit is elliptical. That could disturb the corona of the star at the perihelion of the orbit, such that every one hundred and fifty years, more material than usual falls into the black hole.”
Proctor nodded. “Perhaps the material falling in is inducing the black hole into emitting meta-space radiation. Not only into our universe, but into … others. But this isn’t the only black hole in our galaxy to have matter swirling into it. Why is this one special?”
Silence.
Granger swore. “Do we really need to understand it to destroy it?”
Proctor rolled her eyes. “You can’t destroy a black hole.”
He strode out toward the atrium, where Isaacson and Volodin still lay dead. “Watch me.”
Chapter 69
Executive Command Center, Russian Singularity Production Facility
High Orbit, Penumbra Three
Finally, after all the time fighting the Swarm, after all the fleet engagements, last-ditch planetary defenses, suffering through political maneuvering and cloak and dagger tactics by both his own government, the Russian Confederation, and the Swarm itself, Granger knew what he had to do. The same thing he’d already done. And it liberated him. He’d done it once. He could do it again.
“Lieutenant Volz, this is Granger,” he said through the comm.
“Volz here, sir.”
“Ballsy, I want you to transfer all fighters currently on Victory to the Old Bird.”
“Excuse me, sir?” Volz sounded confused.
“You heard me. The Constitution is currently inside a giant bay here in the asteroid. We’ll open the bay doors, and you get all the fighters over here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Volz, make sure Fishtail gets over here, too. Next stop is Earth, and a trip through a singularity just might hit the spot for her. Granger out.” He punched the button again and continued. “Commander Oppenheimer? Lieutenant Diaz?”
“Bridge here, Captain,” came Oppenheimer’s voice.
“I want you two to transfer all non-essential personnel to the Constitution. That’s everyone, except for a few key people to help me pilot the Victory, and maybe fire the guns. That’s it. Everyone else to the Old Bird. Send them over in escape pods—they can dock at the vacant escape pod ports—and they’re to stay in the escape pods until directed otherwise by Commander Proctor. She'll then have them escape from the Old Bird right before it heads back to Earth in the past. And I want them gone in five minutes. Understood?”
“Understood, sir. Bridge out.”
Granger motioned for Proctor and Polrum Krull to follow him as he started back toward the atrium. On the way he pointed at a marine. “Wrap the other me up in a few sheets, and carry him down to the Constitution.” The marine saluted and marched back to the hospital room.
“Tim, what’s going on?” Proctor had caught up with him.
“Shelby, you’re going to take the old me, with a skeleton crew, and go back to Earth on the Constitution. Once you handle the debris ball heading towards Earth, you're going to send the Old Bird back to the past. Make sure everyone abandons ship before you send it back. Except old me, of course.” He strode back through the atrium, past the elevator. Polrum Krull trailed shortly behind him and Proctor. “Krull? Can you contain a latent singularity and make it portable?”
“Yes, Granger. That is how they are all stored. They are modular. Once they’ve been deployed, of course, they either collapse or float freely and latent in space.
“I need the coordinates of the one the Constitution went through four months ago. I assume it’s still orbiting Earth, and its sibling is here near the station somewhere. Find it, please.”
Polrum Krull bowed her head, and began to withdraw. “Wait,” said Granger. “We’ll need one more pair, too. A latent singularity, and its sibling.”
“They are kept down in a storage bay, near where they are loaded onto ships. Close to where the Constitution is now. I will bring you a pair, if you’ll be so kind as to direct two of your soldiers to escort me. I don’t believe I’ll make it down
there with your entire ground army in the way.”
Granger smiled painfully. The mention of the army was pointed, and obviously a reminder to him of the grave injustices the Skiohra had endured in the past few hours. “Yes. That. I can’t express how sorry I am that it happened. When this is all over, we’ll help bring those responsible to justice.”
“It is not justice I seek, Captain.” She started walking toward the elevator. “It is survival.”
Granger pointed toward two marines who were standing guard near the elevator. “You two. Escort our guest to where she needs to go. She’s to have access to any location on the station she needs. And help her get the bay doors open to receive the escape pods and fighters that are on their way. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they both said, and followed her into the elevator. Granger continued on toward the hallway leading to al the docking ports.
“Tim, I know what you’re planning. It’s … there’s no guarantee it’s going to work.”
“It’ll work. I know it’ll work.”
“How, Tim?” Her voice elevated. “How can you be so damn sure? We’ve got no time. The ball of debris is about to hit Earth, and meanwhile the rest of the Swarm and Russian fleets are out there somewhere. We can’t just be going out on some damn-fool mission because your gut says so.”
He turned to her. She was right, of course, it was foolish. But this time, he really was sure. “Shelby, I know, because I remember this time. Kharsa manipulated me, true. But he manipulated memories that were already there. I really did stand there by that window and look down at Penumbra. I really did feel longing. Like it was home. All he did was alter my visual memory of it. Made it look like his own homeworld in my mind’s eye. But he can’t alter the feelings. The thoughts. And now that I’ve been on the other side of the conversation, the whole thing has come back to me.”