by G J Ogden
The calculations completed and Cad enabled the Shelby Drive as the computer calmly intoned, “Collision warning, contact in fifteen seconds…”
The pulse of the mercenary fighter’s Shelby Drive grew to a crescendo, and Cad chanced a final look back. However, instead of the starlit blackness of space, he saw only a white noise of soaring rocks and dust. Then the cabin was enveloped in swirling red light, which persisted for only a few seconds before Cad’s fighter dropped out of bridge space again. His hurried and imprecise calculations had caused the Shelby Drive to overload and shut down, kicking him back into normal space only half a million kilometers from the planet. Several consoles then erupted into sparks, and the power systems fluctuated, then quickly stabilized again. Cad knew that his vessel had taken damage, but he also knew that his gamble had paid off. He was far enough away from the dying world to be safe, for the time being. And, more importantly, he was still alive.
Cad turned the nose of the fighter back toward what remained of the rogue world, which was now only a thumb-sized ball of light in the distance. The positions of the star system’s other planets and moons updated on his navigation computer. Each one was out of position, compared to where they were supposed to be, and each one was now orbiting in a pattern that disobeyed physics.
“It’s begun,” Cad said out loud, if only to break the deathly silence that had enveloped the cockpit. The renegades had been telling the truth all along, he realized. However, none of it mattered anymore. The bridge worlds would all soon crumble – but not before Hallam Knight lay dead at his feet.
21
Hallam wrapped his knuckles on the door to the medical bay in Dr. Rand’s hideout, then entered to find Dakota sitting on the edge of the examination bed. She smiled at him, already looking much more like her usual self. The medic who had been attending to her wounds acknowledged Hallam then departed, leaving them alone together.
“You’re looking better,” said Hallam, folding his arms and smirking at her. “You have all of our sparring sessions to thank for your speedy recovery.”
“And just how did you arrive at that startlingly dumb conclusion?” Dakota answered, pushing herself off the bed and flexing her muscles.
“It’s why you’ve got such a hard head, of course,” said Hallam, tapping a finger to his temple. “It’s a good job that you’re a terrible boxer, otherwise I wouldn’t have conditioned you to take quite such a savage beating.”
Dakota snorted a laugh, then winced and rubbed her jaw. “I think we might give the sparring sessions a miss for a few days, though,” she said, switching from massaging her jaw to rubbing her neck. “I wouldn’t want to give you an unfair advantage…”
“I’ll happily take your place…”
Hallam and Dakota turned to see Ruby Rivas leaning against the doorframe. As usual, the second member of the Wolf Squadron was chewing gum.
“I seem to remember you laying down a challenge to me not so long ago,” Ruby said to Hallam before blowing out a pea-green-colored gum bubble.
Hallam smiled and was about to accept the cocky pilot’s invitation when he suddenly felt dizzy. Spots danced in front of his eyes and a sharp pain shot through his head, as if a needle had just been inserted through his temples. The next thing he knew, Hallam was perched on the end of the examination bed, with both Ruby and Dakota clutching his arms for support.
“Hal, are you okay?” he heard Dakota say, though there was a high-pitched ringing in his ears that made Dakota’s voice sound distant. “Can you hear me?”
As suddenly as it had started, Hallam’s vision and hearing began to clear, like fog lifting under the midday sun. However, the shooting pain in his head remained, and he still felt weak.
“I’m okay now,” Hallam said, his voice sounding as uncertain as he felt. “I must have blacked out for a second then.”
“You don’t say…” said Ruby, though she sounded concerned, rather than snarky. “I called for Dr. Rand. She’s already on her way.”
Hallam nodded then accepted Ruby’s and Dakota’s help to lay him down on the bed. The act of taking the weight off his feet and resting his head on the soft, cool pillow had an instantly soporific effect, and he felt his eyelids growing heavy. He hadn’t been able to relax for the entire journey back to Dr. Rand’s Darkspace hideout. He’d been unable to stop thinking about Cad Rikkard and Draga Vex, and whether they’d also escaped from Doyle’s rogue world. That worry alone was enough to keep any notion of sleep at bay, but on top of this was the terrible knowledge that the first interstellar bridge had collapsed. The ramifications of this were still unknown. Dr. Rand had immediately hurried to her lab to analyze the data from Ruby’s fighter, and the genius scientist hadn’t been seen since. However, Hallam knew it was wishful thinking to believe the consequences of the event were anything other than catastrophic. It also didn’t help that they’d failed in their mission to retrieve the alien component that Dr. Rand needed. Hallam didn’t even know exactly why she needed it, since the secretive scientist had yet to fully explain her plan.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp, hot pain shoot across the side of his face, accompanied by a crack like a whip. He jolted upright, eyes bursting open to see Dakota peering down at him, hand raised and ready to strike again.
“Stay with me, Hal!” Dakota cried, shouting in a panicked holler. “Stay awake!”
Dakota went to slap him again, but Hallam raised his hands to shield his stinging face. “Damn it, Dak, I was just resting my eyes!” Hallam hit back, flexing his cheek muscles. His face was on fire, as if he’d fallen asleep in the midday sun and woken up to the aftereffects. “I’m not dead. At least not yet,” he added, gingerly touching his fingers to the sensitive area.
Ruby then snorted a laugh, and Hallam and Dakota shot her a dirty look, their peeved expressions mirroring one another’s exactly. “Well, I thought it was pretty funny.” Ruby shrugged, blowing out another green gum bubble. It popped suddenly, filling the air with a pungent apple fragrance that smelt like bathroom air freshener.
“How’s the patient?” said Dr. Rand, bustling into the room, holding her palm computer in one hand and carrying a black Gladstone bag in the other. She hadn’t noticed the looks of thunder on the faces of Hallam and Dakota, or the new gum bubble that Ruby had already begun to blow out. Hallam sat up and scowled at the Gladstone bag, which immediately made him think of Jack the Ripper and the dark, murderous streets of Victorian London.
“Aside from a sore cheek, not too bad,” replied Hallam, eliciting a bemused frown from Dr. Rand. Then he pointed to the bag and added, “As I’ve just explained to Dak, I’m not dead yet, so there’s really no need to dissect me.”
Dr. Rand ignored the quip and placed the bag down on the bed, popping open the clasp with a crisp click. She then opened it and flashed her eyes at Hallam, which only deepened his growing sense of foreboding. However, instead of a scalpel or a butcher’s knife, Dr. Rand removed a number of medical devices, the likes of which Hallam had never seen before.
“You have been watching too many old murder mystery movies, Mr. Knight,” said Dr. Rand. She attached one of the devices to Hallam’s arm before strapping a larger appliance around his head. “However, if I do accidentally kill you, I’ll make sure that your body is donated to science.”
“That’s very comforting, Doc, thanks,” replied Hallam sarcastically.
Dr. Rand activated the devices then perched on the side of the bed, staring down at her palm computer. She continued in this way for a couple of minutes, during which time she remained pensive and silent. Hallam, Dakota, and Ruby frequently exchanged anxious looks before, eventually, Hallam couldn’t bear the anticipation any longer.
“Come on, Doc, the suspense is killing me!” Hallam blurted out. He felt like there was an executioner’s axe hanging above his head.
“An interesting turn of phrase, considering your condition, Mr. Knight,” replied Dr. Rand, which did precisely nothing to allay Hallam’s fears. Dr. Rand’s eyebrow
then raised up and she cast a sideways glance at Hallam. “Do you remember the part where I mentioned limiting yourself to no more than ten seconds of exposure to the alien device?”
Hallam folded his arms and scowled back at her. “I do, and I also remember the part about six-foot killer reptilian monsters.” Then he clicked his fingers and added, “Oh wait, no, that part wasn’t mentioned at all…”
Dr. Rand frowned. “I thought it was flesh-eating giant spiders?” she replied, laying on some sarcasm of her own. Hallam’s look conveyed his ample dismay at the scientist’s questionable bedside manner, and she seemed to take the hint. “I’ll prepare a raft of treatments to counteract the effects of your recklessly prolonged exposure,” said Dr. Rand, placing the palm computer down on her lap. “However, your miraculous resistance to Randenite radiation appears to have spared you from any permanent damage, at least so far as I’m able to determine.”
Hallam let out a relieved sigh, although he couldn’t help but pick up on the slightly non-committal nature of Dr. Rand’s diagnosis. The scientist then removed a packet of tablets from her “Jack the Ripper” bag and handed them to Hallam.
“Start by taking two of these,” she said, tapping the packet in the palm of Hallam’s hand. “Then visit my lab in one hour and we’ll get started on the other treatments.” Dr. Rand closed the Gladstone bag and stood up, turning toward the door. She then hesitated and glanced back at Hallam, her expression far graver than he would have liked. “However, I would strongly caution against any further exposure to Randenite radiation, at least in the short-term,” she added, suddenly sounding very much like a physician giving Hallam a ticking off for poor lifestyle choices. “You may be resistant, Mr. Knight, but you are not invulnerable.”
Hallam slid off the bed and popped the pills into his mouth, then took a swig of water from a cup that was already on the table next to it. “I’m not sure I’ll have much choice, Doc,” he said after swallowing the chunky, bitter-tasting tablets. “We didn’t manage to retrieve the component you needed, so I’m guessing you’re going to need us to go after an alternative?”
Dr. Rand considered the question for a moment, during which time Hallam guessed she was formulating one of her typically guarded responses. “I have something in mind, but it can wait,” she eventually replied, though it was more of an evasion than an answer. “First, you all need to rest,” Dr. Rand added before again turning to leave. This time, it was Ruby Rivas that stopped her.
“Hey, just a damn minute,” snapped Ruby, speaking to the scientist in a manner that bordered on insubordinate. Hallam was shocked. He’d never heard Ruby talk to Dr. Rand in a manner that was even remotely disrespectful. “We all nearly died trying to get that alien thing off the nightmare planet from hell,” Ruby added, continuing to take a stern tone with the scientist. “The least you can do is clue us in on why you needed it.”
Dr. Rand met Ruby’s eyes and held them for a couple of seconds, then closed the door of the medical bay and locked it. Hallam glanced at Dakota and Ruby, who both appeared to be as eager to hear Dr. Rand’s next words as he was.
“The component I asked you to retrieve was part of the alien bridge drive technology,” said Dr. Rand, setting her bag down on the floor and holding her hands in front of her waist. “In fact, it was the crucial part. It is what the original Shelby Drive design was based on. But I was never able to reproduce its capabilities fully, and I still cannot, which is why I needed the original.”
Hallam shrugged. “So you’re looking to build a new Shelby Drive? A better drive?” he asked, unsure of where Dr. Rand was heading with her explanation. “I thought the plan was to destroy the Centrum. How does building a better Shelby Drive help us do that?”
Dakota nodded then added her voice to the mix. “Hallam’s right. I don’t see how a drive component helps us take down the Centrum. I thought we were out there recovering a weapon, not a new engine.”
Ruby also nodded in agreement, and it was clear to everyone in the room that there was anger and even a little resentment over Dr. Rand’s admission. They’d all put their lives on the line, more than once, and the scientist owed them a fuller explanation as to why.
“I’m afraid there’s no magic bullet, or even alien weapon, that can destroy the Centrum,” said Dr. Rand, who had adopted a more rigid posture, though she did not appear to be perturbed that the Wolf Squadron had suddenly turned on her. “I have run hundreds of attack simulations on the Centrum, over a great many years, and in every one of them, the renegade assault squadrons were annihilated by the station’s impermeable defense perimeter. All, that is, apart from one scenario.” Hallam again glanced at the others, but they were hanging on the scientist’s every word, just as he was. “The only scenario that had a chance of success involves bypassing the Centrum’s defense grid entirely,” Dr. Rand continued.
Hallam frowned, annoyed that Dr. Rand had spoken a lot of words but still said nothing. However, before he could press her for more specifics, Ruby huffed a surprised laugh. She was also nodding enthusiastically, as if Dr. Rand had just conveyed some deep and meaningful nugget of wisdom. Hallam, however, remained clueless.
“You want to bridge an assault team right up to the gates, right?” said Ruby, smiling. “That way, you bypass the fighters and the mines and the dozens of gun emplacements. You pop up right in front of the hangar door, and punch your way in before anyone realizes what’s happened.”
Dr. Rand returned Ruby’s smile and nodded.
“So that’s why you need the original alien bridging tech?” said Hallam, finally understanding the scientist’s idea. “Because the Shelby Drives in our fighters could never make a jump that’s precise enough?”
Dr. Rand again just nodded while maintaining a soft Mona Lisa smile. Hallam puffed out his cheeks and sighed. Ever since he’d started using the advanced Shelby Drives in the renegade fighters to create temporary bridge routes through space, Hallam had noticed that the end location had always fluctuated, sometimes by several kilometers. To pull off the stunt that Dr. Rand was suggesting would require a ship that could create a bridge to within a very tight margin-of-error. Perhaps to within a few meters.
“So why keep that from us?” asked Dakota, moving past the issue of why Dr. Rand needed the tech and on to the issue of why she’d kept it a secret. “All of us are invested in this mission, Dr. Rand. We deserve to know what you’re planning.”
Dr. Rand held up her hands. “Miss Wulfrun, please understand that my guarded nature is not because I don’t trust you,” the scientist quickly cut in. “However, if Damien Doyle got wind of what I was planning, he could quickly plug this gap in the Centrum’s defenses.” Dr. Rand then looked at Dakota directly. “And your recent adventures aptly demonstrate precisely why the less you know the better.”
Dakota folded her arms and looked eager to argue back, but instead, she bit her tongue. The implication that Dakota would have revealed Dr. Rand’s secrets under duress was obviously something she took umbrage with.
“I know you would have resisted any attempts by the Blackfire Squadron or the CSF to make you talk,” the scientist went on, clearly sensing the reason for Dakota’s unease. “I even believe that you would take these secrets to your grave if it came to it,” Dr. Rand added. “However, we all know that Draga Vex’s reputation for extracting information is well-earned. You may not have had a choice.”
Hallam sighed and met the eyes of the other members of the Wolf Squadron in turn. Dr. Rand’s explanation, while in many ways unsatisfying, was rational. However, it still left them in a limbo.
“So, what now?” asked Hallam, turning back to the scientist. “That whole complex went up like an atom bomb on steroids. How are we supposed to find another piece of alien tech like the one you need?”
Dr. Rand picked up her Gladstone bag again and unlocked the door, a clear sign that she was done with discussing the issue, at least for now. Despite stating that she trusted the squadron – a statement that Hallam had b
elieved – she remained highly secretive. However, Hallam conceded that this was perhaps not without good reason.
“There is one other option, but we’ll come to that when you are all rested and recovered,” said Dr. Rand, and this time, no one pushed her to reveal more.
“Maybe we don’t need to find another alien probe or drive component?” offered Dakota, unfurling her arms and pressing her hands to her hips instead. “Doyle can’t cover up what’s happening now, even with his power over the media. The gravitational anomaly from the rogue world will eventually reach Vesta and spread from there. It will be impossible to ignore it or hide it.”
“I’m afraid Mr. Doyle’s media machine has already been hard at work spinning a story to explain the phenomenon,” said Dr. Rand gloomily. “The anomalies have been blamed on terrorist activities committed by the Darkspace Renegades. It’s all over every media station and news channel, including the BridgeNet.”
Ruby threw her head back and cursed. “Damn that guy! Surely there has to be a way to reach people, through the dark BridgeNet or some other route?”
Dr. Rand cocked her head to the side, suggesting that she’d also been thinking along similar lines. “There are options, Miss Rivas, but without broad coverage, we won’t be believed,” she said, her response typically noncommittal. “The truth will out in time, but unfortunately, time is a commodity we no longer have. The complex on the rogue world appeared to contain the most precious – and most dangerous – of the alien artefacts reclaimed from their homeworld. When the complex was destroyed, the explosion tore open a fissure between bridge space and normal space. Vesta will be hardest hit, but the impact will ripple throughout all the bridges, accelerating their decay. If we don’t end bridge travel soon, we may only have weeks, or even days to stop the bridge worlds from suffering the same fate as Damien Doyle’s secret planet.”