“Reminds me of John Bandicut’s and my arrival at Shipworld,” Copernicus said. “Do you know why they picked you?”
Li-Jared uttered a low growl. “I know they waited to make sure they had good communications before they grabbed me.”
“But why you?”
“Do you think I didn’t ask that question? Sometimes I think it’s because of what I knew, or knew how to do. But really, you know...mostly I think it was just because they knew I was alone. I guess they knew I wouldn’t really be leaving anyone behind.” His voice dropped slightly. It was an old wound, one that was likely never to heal.
The robot hummed in thought. Finally he said, “I guess, in truth...the same thing could be said about me. And about Napoleon. And I wonder...John Bandicut?”
Li-Jared took another bite and stared at the metal robot, thinking, Is that why we’re all so expendable? Is that why we’ve just been tossed toward an exploding sun?
Chapter 27
*Thunder*
Over the next several days, The Long View crossed the eerily glowing void and drew steadily closer to the Trapezium, the blazing diamond-shaped cluster of stars that marked, as much as anything could, the heart of Starmaker. Copernicus was growing into his position as shipboard AI, and Napoleon and Jeaves continued to work tirelessly, and futilely, to determine what the Mindaru were doing to *Nick* and the spacetime continuum. Twice, the ship passed through hypergrav shock waves, and during the second event they finally managed to get a fix on the point of origin of the disturbance. It was indeed the star behind the Trapezium, the one they were calling *Nick*.
As for the crew, Ik’s stones seemed to be working, and everyone at last had a chance to rest and regain their equilibrium. In Bandicut’s case, the time was not altogether restful. The dreams had started up again—the visions of the wheat field and the towering thunderstorms and the combines bearing down on him—and he still didn’t understand them. He was increasingly unsure whether they were wholly dream or partly memory; but their persistence was getting on his nerves. Charli had started having her own dreamlike experiences: memories surfacing inexplicably, quarxian memories linked somehow to her longstanding questions about the fate, ages ago, of her race. Charli was sure there was something important in those memories, but she had no more idea what it was than Bandicut did about his dreams.
On the fourth day of their crossing of the central cavern of the nebula, Ik announced on the bridge that he was sensing the mind of the nearest Trapezium star, *Thunder*. Shortly afterward, Charli informed Bandicut that Deep was beginning to make contact with the star.
/// I’m feeling something around the edges myself.
I think this star is in distress. ///
When Bandicut passed this information on to the others, Ik affirmed the impression.
“Why?” Li-Jared asked. “Does the star say why?”
Ik let out a long sigh. “I cannot say that it speaks, as such. Right now I only sense waves...ripples of feeling. No clear details. There is something very strange and disconnected in this, I don’t know what. I hope as we get closer...”
They were still some distance away. Copernicus was making course adjustments, but the intense radiation flux forced him to navigate with caution. It would be a little while yet before they were close enough to the star for meaningful contact.
“This radiation makes me nervous,” Antares said, gazing at the great arching walls of glowing gas that surrounded the ship in its passage across the cavern.
“Understandable,” Napoleon said. “It is the radiation from the Trapezium stars that hollowed out this whole region of the nebula and gave us such a clear view. It is strong stuff.”
“Is that unusual?” Antares asked.
“Not really,” Napoleon said. “New stars often produce huge bursts of radiation—and when the shock waves hit other parts of the nebula cloud, they can do two things: trigger the birth of still more stars, or burn out a big cavity in the nebula surrounding it. It’s like a new power on the block, clearing the neighborhood of competitors, if I may use an Earth metaphor.”
“Nevertheless,” Copernicus said, “these stars will be minor powers in the block, compared to *Nick*, if *Nick* explodes.”
“That’s very cheering, Copernicus,” Bandicut said.
“We are nearly across the bubble now, so I would expect the quality of contact to improve soon.”
“Rrrm, not soon enough,” Ik murmured.
*
Before another day had passed, they were drawing near to the uppermost star in the cluster. *Thunder* was now a billowing blue-white ball of immense size. Perhaps it only seemed so because of what Bandicut knew, but it also looked alarmingly alive against the background of the nebula. The viewspace was now presenting a radically altered view for their benefit, since a “true view” would have blinded them instantly.
Deep and Dark flanked The Long View as they drew closer to the star. Charli was in contact with Charlene-echo, and Ik sat in a near trance, opening himself to whatever communication was possible. Antares sat nearby, ready to assist as needed.
Bandicut felt as if he should be doing something. The flight controls were deactivated, since Copernicus was doing the flying. “Napoleon, are we scanning to see if anybody else is in the area?” If the Mindaru were involved, it wouldn’t do to be too cavalier about watching their backs.
“As a matter of fact...” Napoleon paused and seemed to be checking something. “We’ve picked up an object in close orbit.”
Bandicut felt a chill run up his spine. “Ah.” Damn. “What do we know about it?”
Napoleon clicked. “Not much. We’ll have to get closer if we want more data.”
“How much closer?”
“Uncertain, Cap’n. The readings are devilishly strange. It appears to be a very small object, less than a meter across.”
“Really.”
“But it seems more massive than its size would indicate.”
“A lot more massive? You mean, massive like collapsed matter?”
“I think not. There are definite hints of a complex internal structure. More than that, I can’t say.”
Bandicut frowned. /Any chance Deep could take a look?/ he asked Charli.
/// Deep has his, er, hands full already.
He’s establishing time-fusion,
so that we can talk to the star.
But Dark is trying to probe the object.
The word I’m getting via Charlene is that
it has n-space structure. ///
/Oh.../ He peered again and saw that Dark had indeed sped on ahead and was circling around some invisible point.
/// The object is not just floating in n-space.
Its form and structure appear to be
shaped from n-space. ///
/You mean like our ship?/
/// I think so, yes.
Except apparently there are some long streamers
extending from it. ///
Bandicut conveyed that information to Napoleon. The robot made a rasping sound. “It must have its structure better concealed than ours.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, any fool could look at The Long View and say, of course it extrudes into n-space and uses n-space boundary layers as a hull.”
“Any fool.”
“But this object...well, the readings are a lot more ambiguous. I think maybe it’s a normal-space structure that’s been rolled up somehow into n-space, so that most of it is hidden. I can’t tell for sure. And I’m not picking up any suggestion of streamers. I wish there were a way for us to probe it directly.”
“Can you at least tell if it’s Mindaru? If it is, maybe we should be thinking of how to take it out—or at least stay away from it. You know what happened the last time we approached one of those.”
“That’s a reasonable speculation,” Napoleon said. “But speculation nevertheless. Obviously, we don’t know what the results would be if we destroyed it, assuming we could find a
way.”
“I understand that. I was speaking hypothetically, Nappy.”
Charli cleared her throat.
/// Mostly hypothetically? ///
Bandicut shrugged inwardly. /What do you suggest?/
/// Charlene-echo says Dark can’t go any closer
without setting off alarms,
assuming she hasn’t already.
I think we’ve got to go in and take a look.
And hope we’re less obtrusive. ///
/That’s what I was afraid you were going to say./ Bandicut relayed Charli’s thoughts to everyone on the bridge who was listening. But before asking Li-Jared to help him decide—and the Karellian looked as if he was anything but amenable to approaching a Mindaru object—Bandicut called out to Ik and Antares. “Are you getting anything from the star? Any sense of whether this object might be involved in the trouble?”
Ik appeared lost in his trance, but Antares looked up and blinked her golden eyes. “It’s all quite vague. We’re still just making contact.”
“If we move in to investigate this thing, do you think it will interfere with your contact?” Bandicut asked.
“I think our movements will not cause a problem. If we do come under attack...well...”
“Yah.” Bandicut started to turn to Li-Jared when Charli suddenly yelled something. He couldn’t understand, and had to ask her to repeat it.
/// That’s it! Damn it, that’s it!
I know what it’s doing! ///
/What? What’s it doing?/
/// I’ve been getting this hazy image of
this star being caught up in a web of some kind,
but it didn’t make any sense to me.
Ask Napoleon if he can do anything that would
make dark matter visible. ///
/Dark matter? Charli, we can’t see dark matter. That’s why it’s called dark matter./
/// Just ask him. Or Jeaves.
If not dark matter, then n-space channels.
Ask them! ///
Bandicut put the question to the robots. Napoleon wasn’t sure, but Jeaves jumped in to say, “Exotic dark matter is nearly impossible to image in normal-space, but if it’s passing through n-space channels, then we should be able to do something to light it up. Yes—I think I understand now. Not again! Why didn’t I see that?”
“What do you mean, not again?” Bandicut asked.
But Jeaves was busy working with Napoleon to change the view. After a few moments, the image of the huge star flickered, then darkened as though a violet-black filter had dropped into place. Now it was no longer just the sun; threading from the surrounding space into it were a number of fine, glowing strands, a little like streamers of lightning playing from the center of a toy plasma globe. “That’s it, they’re feeding in the direction of the object,” Jeaves said. “But where are they going from there?”
“What are those—?” Bandicut waved in bewilderment toward the streamers.
“Still trying to fine-tune the sensors,” Jeaves said. “I believe Charli is right—those are streams of exotic dark matter being channeled through n-space. Wait a sec—here.” The view lightened and turned bluer, and now the threads were thicker and looked like ghostly streamers of something flowing.
Li-Jared stood crouching with his hands on his hips. “Dark matter, eh?”
“Are we all talking about the same thing—the undetectable stuff that keeps the galaxies from flying apart?” Bandicut asked. “Because if we are, then I really don’t understand what’s going on.”
Bong-ng. “Neither do I,” Li-Jared said. “But you may be right. I hate to say it, but we may need to take a closer look.”
“I might understand,” Jeaves murmured.
“If you know something, tell us,” Bandicut said.
“It might be the way they’re attacking the star. But I could be completely wrong. Let me finish processing the information we’re getting before I speculate, okay? Can we ask Copernicus to bring us in closer? We’ll have to penetrate the star’s outer atmosphere to get near the object.”
Bandicut cast a frustrated glance at Ik and Antares before nodding yes.
*
*Thunder* was now a massive wall of light, filling most of the sky. The presumed-Mindaru object was floating in the star’s photosphere, so they had little choice but to go on in themselves. The n-space fields would isolate them, as usual; if the fields failed, they would hardly have time to know the difference.
“I’m not sure what we’re going to do once we have this object where we want it,” Bandicut said, with a shiver of apprehension.
“I’m not sure, either,” said Napoleon. “But it does appear to be of a different nature from the last.”
“How do you know? I can barely see it.”
“The last Mindaru object projected an n-space web that was clearly intended to trap and destroy spacecraft. This one appears to have other fish to fry.”
“What sort of other...fish?” Li-Jared asked.
Napoleon flickered. “It appears to be involved in—and possibly creating—conduits through n-space. Conduits carrying dark matter. I can’t tell yet where the conduits lead, but I think we might all have the same guess.”
“*Nick*?” Bandicut asked.
“That’s my guess,” Napoleon said.
Jeaves emitted a gentle sigh. “It would be consistent with a situation I once encountered, in which...sentient intervention...was causing a star to build toward supernova. It would have been very difficult to stop.” He seemed to draw himself up. “We must be extremely creative in our response.”
“Exactly,” said Napoleon. “Captains, we really need to move in for a close-up look, if we are to have answers. Do we have your permission?”
Bandicut glanced at Li-Jared, who assented with a flick of his fingers. “Sur-r-re. What have we got to lose? But be careful, all right?”
“Aye-aye, Cap’n.”
*
It was very strange...
Ik felt his body turning to gossamer, to a wispy translucence. He was evaporating from the bridge of the ship. What was happening? A wave of panic rushed through him, then faded as quickly. He was floating through spacetime. He flew toward Deep, and toward the swelling star.
The star. It was a huge, luminous thing, filling the sky. It ought, logically, to have felt dangerous; but he did not sense heat from it, or radiation. Or danger. What he sensed was something, someone, aware of his approach.
Ik also felt a growing awareness of time—not as a flow or a past/present/future, but rather as a great diaphanous ribbon stretched out across...he didn’t know what to call it, eternity maybe, or the timeline of existence. Whatever it was called, the star occupied a much greater swath of that ribbon than he did. Millions of Iks, or Ik-lifetimes, could be stretched end to end within the ribbon that the star occupied. Clearly the star was alive and aware, but how could it possibly commune with one so tiny? It was, Ik knew, Deep’s work making that possible; the time-fusion sang through this vision like electricity through a wire.
And through that singing, faintly, came the voice of *Thunder*, very different from *Brightburn*. Ik could not make out words or expressions from *Thunder*, but he did detect a feeling, he thought. It was a strong emotion, an undertone to the electric song.
*Thunder* knew they were here. And she was not glad to see them.
*
The gases of the star’s photosphere glowed whiter and bluer and brighter, ever brighter. They were gliding through *Thunder*’s atmosphere. Bandicut knew it was a translated image—they were still in n-space and would hardly have seen that view even if the ship had had windows—but he nevertheless felt his throat tighten as he watched. Ahead of them, the Mindaru object was now visible as a dark speck. When magnified, it was still an indefinable shape, a severely pixelated image. Standing nearby on the bridge, he sensed that Ik and Antares were being drawn further and further into contact with the star. He wished he knew what they were seeing and hearing. /Ca
n you follow any of it?/
/// Only a little.
I get the feeling this star is angry. ///
/About—?/
/// About small, invading bodies. ///
Sorry he’d asked, Bandicut turned and spoke to Napoleon. “How close do we need to get to that thing? And do you see any danger signs?”
“As close as possible. And none so far.”
No danger? That seemed unlikely. “Can you tell yet what it’s doing?”
“I can confirm the flow of dark matter through a channel in n-dimensional space.” A window appeared in an upper corner of the viewspace, revealing a false-color image in God-knew-what wavelength. Several ghostly streamers converged on a clear bubble surrounding the Mindaru object, then diverted inward into the star in one stream. “This would not be detectable from normal-space using any means familiar to us,” Napoleon said.
“So the dark matter is being directed into the body of *Thunder*?” Li-Jared asked.
Jeaves answered, “Yes, but I don’t believe that is its final destination. Our scans cannot penetrate far enough to confirm, but I believe the flow is being redirected to another star.”
“To *Nick*?” Bandicut asked.
“I can’t think of where else. My guess is that dark matter is accumulating in *Nick*’s core,” Jeaves said. “Precisely how, I’m not certain. But that buildup is probably what’s causing the hypergrav disturbances. The intent must be to push *Nick* to the point of hypernova.”
/// That’s exactly the point, ///
Charli said, and there was anguish, grief, and anger in her voice.
Bandicut blinked in surprise. /How are you so sure?/
/// Because...
that’s how my homeworld was killed. ///
/Charli? Are you sure?/
/// An hour ago, I wasn’t.
Sunborn Page 31