by David Ryker
“Is it... is it alive?” he asked.
“I have never seen the element in this way before,” said Sloane. “It’s the first time I’ve encountered it since you and I merged, and this is a new experience for me.”
Schuster thought for a moment. “I don’t understand. Why are we seeing it now?”
“Your ship’s instruments indicate we’re passing through the asteroid belt. There must be a deposit of the element somewhere inside one or more of the asteroids. And somehow it senses us.”
“That’s ridiculous. It’s not alive, it can’t think.”
“You’re talking to a sentient thought right now, Dev. Is it really that hard to believe that an element that exists both inside and outside the physical universe can have some type of sentience?”
Schuster’s perceptions suddenly shifted as the world around him skewed to reflect his confusion and agitation. Sloane’s form, which had previously begun to look almost humanoid, was back to being a glowing egg in front of him.
“I don’t get any of this metaphysical stuff!” His words came out as discordant music, a toddler banging on piano keys. “Let’s say it is trying to contact us; what of it? If we don’t know how to speak its language, the whole thing is pretty much moot, isn’t it?”
“If we stopped here, we could find it,” said Sloane. “Explore this new phenomenon. Discover the unknown.”
“And let Kergan open up a wormhole and bring in an invasion force to wipe out humanity,” said Schuster. “Don’t forget that part. While we were sitting here mooning over its pretty glow and having sex fantasies, the Earth would be taken over!”
“But we have been given a gift, Dev. I know this deep in my… soul? Is that the right word?”
“Don’t ask me,” Dev said, his agitation growing. “I know even less than you. All I know is that, if it’s going to reach out to us, how about doing something useful, like getting us to Oberon faster? That’s what—”
Suddenly he felt something strange. A physical sensation was making its way into his astral consciousness, which had never happened before, even when he was under attack by the security droids.
“Go,” said Sloane. “There is something happening in the physical realm. Even I can feel it. Go!”
Dev opened his eyes to see Gloom strapped into her seat next to him. The look of near-panic on her face sent a jolt of fear through his own belly.
“Dev, I’m scared,” she said in a small voice. “What’s going on?”
He turned to the ship’s monitors and saw nothing but white light. The portholes showed the same, nothing but a complete absence of color. But there was something else happening that he could feel deep inside his solar plexus, like the thrill of freefalling or a rushing rollercoaster.
“Dev!” Quinn barked over the radio. “What the hell is happening? We lost all our sensors at once!”
“Same here,” said Bishop. “The instrument displays don’t make any sense.”
“Us, too!” said Chelsea. “We can’t see anything except white light! According to the mapping software, we’re not moving, but it sure feels like we are.”
“I don’t know!” Schuster took Gloom’s hand and squeezed it. “I think… I think it has something to do with that element we found on Oberon, but I can’t be sure!”
“The element?” Quinn asked. “Are you saying this is just a hallucination?”
“No, it’s real. That much I do know.”
“All I know is I’m gettin’ seasick,” Maggott moaned. “I always hated thrill rides when I was a lad. Cannae even do the CR versions without losin’ my lunch.”
Schuster looked at Gloom. “Any ideas?”
“No,” said. “I don’t like this. Zero-G was fun, but this is the opposite of fun.”
It is wondrous, Sloane’s voice said in his mind.
That’s not helping the situation, Schuster replied. What am I supposed to do?
Sloane responded by showing him a scene from a movie he’d watched as a kid on the free archives. It was an old Japanese man and an American teenager. The man said “First time you, first time me.”
Great, Schuster thought. Thanks for that.
Suddenly the the fluttering in his belly disappeared, and the white light outside the porthole was replaced by blackness dotted by the light of stars. In an instant, it was as if nothing had happened.
“Now what?” Gloom breathed.
“Did everything just go back to normal for you people, too?” Bishop asked over the radio.
“Affirmative,” said Quinn.
“Same here,” said Chelsea.
Schuster was looking out the porthole when Sloane’s voice appeared again.
The stars. They’re wrong.
He checked the monitors and mapping readouts, his mind racing. Sure enough, the stars were wrong. Everything was in the wrong place—at least, it would have been if they were still in the asteroid belt.
“What the hell—” Quinn said slowly. “My monitor is showing me Uranus. How are the sensors picking it up from so far away?”
“Holy shit!” Bishop gasped. “Look out your portholes! Starboard, six o’clock!”
Schuster did so, already knowing what he’d find. There, below their current attitude, was the familiar powder-blue glow of the seventh planet in the solar system.
30
Kergan was practically giddy, which made Toomey feel both satisfied and disturbed at the same time.
“I knew you had it in you, Doctor!” Kergan hooted. The pair were on the bridge, where the monitors were tuned to the trio of satellites that formed a rough triangle in space about a thousand kilometers from Oberon One. “How soon can we be ready?”
“The satellites are in place, as you can see,” said Toomey. “The system on board the station is… almost ready.”
He turned to the control panel of the device in question. It was about two meters square, set in the wall of the bridge to draw the maximum amount of power from the station generator when it was in use. Its energy demand was incredible.
“How almost is almost?” asked Kergan.
Toomey frowned. “It’s difficult to say. I’ve run several simulations, and in each case the wormhole opens, but the algorithm necessary to stabilize the coordinates of the bridge eventually breaks down.”
Kergan gave him a leering grin. “I love it when you talk science-y.”
The uncertainty in Toomey’s gut deepened. This whole experience on board the station had been nothing like what he’d expected when he first set out for the stars. It was supposed to be a time of exploration and discovery, tapping into the vast wealth of intelligence that was offered by this new species. Instead, it had been a work detail, where his own intelligence seemed to be tapped in order to perform tasks that Kergan was incapable of himself.
And always, always, always the visions. Toomey had begun to think of them as a curse as time went on, almost like an opioid to which he’d become addicted. They held him fast, forcing his focus away from what was happening around him and into his own mind. That was the antithesis of what a scientist was supposed to do. Their hold on him had faded somewhat in recent days, but Toomey still didn’t fully feel like himself.
“Doctor?” Kergan drew him out of his reverie. “Try to focus. I want to know when I can use the Span and bring my friends here. Please don’t make me hit you again.”
Toomey quailed at the thought, then scolded himself for being weak. He was Dr. Toomey, for the love of God! The epitome of the self-made man, who had pulled himself from desperate poverty and helplessness to become the creator of Prometheus, manipulator of the world’s elite, the smartest human ever born! He had chosen the name Toomey because he was the epitome!
And now he had been reduced to cringing at the threats of a glorified security guard. How had it come to this?
“A few days, perhaps.” He had no idea if that was true, but Kergan needed an answer.
Kergan sighed. “Well, that’s disappointing. Last time I checked
the network, Quinn and his little band were under investigation for stealing government spacecraft, which means they’re likely on their way here. That was three days ago. Now, since you stole their upgraded ship, it will take another five weeks for them to arrive.” He fixed Toomey with a glare. “That doesn’t mean you have five weeks to solve the problem, Doctor, understand? I want everything to be ready and waiting long before Quinn gets here.”
Toomey was about to nod, but something on the monitor behind Kergan drew his attention. The station’s sensors were showing that four spacecraft had suddenly appeared on the far side of Uranus, yet the long-range video feed was showing nothing. Unless… the idea seemed preposterous. The only ship he knew of with invisibility technology was the one he had brought to Oberon One himself.
“I don’t understand—”
“Shut up!” yelled Kergan. Toomey flinched and turned to see him pressing the fingers of his right hand to his temple.
“Are you—”
“I said shut up!” His eyes were darting around the room. “It’s not possible. He can’t be here, and yet I feel him. Or something like him.”
Toomey had seen Kergan agitated before, but never like this. He was pacing the bridge, muttering to himself. The drones had all come to a complete halt. Finally he stopped. His hands had curled into fists, but a smile spread across his bearded face.
“Well, Doctor,” he said. “It would appear that somehow my old friend Kevin Sloane is back, or at least part of him, and he’s brought the Jarheads with him!”
“That’s impossible,” said Toomey. “No ship can travel from Earth to Uranus in three days.”
“Well, they fucking did!” Kergan’s grin was a manic grimace now. “If you’d just killed them when they got back to Earth, we wouldn’t have had to worry about this. And if you’d been able to keep your fucking mind on your fucking work while you were here, the Span receiver would be ready right now and we could bring a thousand warships here to blast them to atoms!” He tilted his head at what had to have been a painful angle. “But neither of those things happened, did they?”
“How was I supposed to know the future?”
“You knew Quinn!” Flecks of spit flew from Kergan’s mouth. “He’s always pulling something out of his ass! You should have expected this!”
The sensors were showing the spacecraft approaching the planet at approximately twelve hundred kilometers per second. Toomey did the math in his head: they would reach Oberon One within twenty-two minutes.
“There’s no way I can stabilize the wormhole before they arrive,” he noted.
“No shit, Sherlock!” Kergan bellowed. He picked up a coffee cup from a nearby table and threw it at Toomey. It struck his right elbow, sending a bolt of pain up his arm to his shoulder. It helped to clear Toomey’s mind even more, until he was at last thinking at full capacity again.
“Send out the drones to engage them in the Rafts,” he said.
Kergan rolled his eyes. “Like I hadn’t already thought of that.”
Suddenly the internal monitors were showing images of people heading toward the station’s docking bays, where four ships awaited crews. Drones milled about, fueling the reactors and starting engines, preparing for takeoff.
“I can attempt to activate the Span and stabilize the wormhole,” said Toomey. “It’s possible the algorithm can be manually adjusted to compensate for the fluctuations, rather than relying on the artificial intelligence.”
“What do you mean?” Suddenly Kergan’s temper was gone.
“I can constantly update the algorithm as needed myself from the terminal here. It should allow the wormhole to stay open long enough to allow some of our allies through. Their superior technology should end the battle decisively.”
The smiled that spread across Kergan’s face was almost childlike, especially in comparison to the pained grin he’d been sporting only moments earlier. He trotted over to where Toomey stood and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Toomey had to make an effort not to flinch.
“I’ve always said you were a genius, Doctor. I’m glad we’re working together on this. Start doing what you need to do.” He patted Toomey’s shoulder. “Can’t wait to introduce you to all my buddies.”
Toomey began to manipulate the controls, all the while trying not to think about how little he was now looking forward to meeting Kergan’s associates.
Kergan took a seat at the console of the bridge as Toomey began his work on the Span generator. The monitors still didn’t show the incoming ships, but the other sensors, which detected everything from heat signatures to ion trails, said they were closing in fast.
He closed his eyes and opened them again in the body of a young woman who had been standing at attention next to the attenuation amplifier ever since Toomey had finished his work on expanding its range. It was located in one of the empty supply storage units next to what used to be the main mess. Now that everyone on the station was a drone and had no reason to meet, they simply ate food that was delivered to them at assigned times. Kergan had been forced to cut rations to half of what they had been before the riot, since the last supply ship to Oberon One had been called back and Toomey, the dummy, hadn’t thought to bring any food with him.
The amplifier stood much like the Span generator, attached directly to the station power grid through the wall. It, too, required massive amounts of power. Kergan hoped he wouldn’t need to use it, and not just because of the power drain—he didn’t want to lose Toomey’s massive imagination to the attenuation process unless he absolutely had to. But he also needed a failsafe to ensure they had enough time to generate the wormhole.
The woman’s hands entered a code into the control panel on the side of the amplifier, setting its range at four hundred thousand kilometers—almost enough to reach Uranus itself. Then he set it to be activated by the touch of a single finger. He poised that finger and froze it in place. The woman he inhabited had been one of the Yandare gang of prisoners before the entire station was attenuated, which was why she was chosen for this duty. She could easily hold her hand in position over the controls for hours, if need be.
Kergan doubted it would come to that as he opened his eyes in his own body again. But it was always good to have insurance.
Especially when you were dealing with wild cards like the Jarheads.
31
“We don’t have time to wonder about this,” said Quinn. “If you believe in a higher power, send up a thank-you, but otherwise, we need to deal with the situation as it is: we’re here, and we need to put the plan into action.”
“Roger that,” said Bishop. “First things first: Dev, can Kergan see us?”
“I’d be amazed if he couldn’t,” said Schuster. “Sloane had already started upgrading their sensors before we broke out, and Kergan’s had weeks to work on it since then. We need to assume that he picked us up the second we—uh, you know, appeared out of thin air, even though our cloaks automatically kicked in.”
“Well, we’ll keep them up until we know different,” said Quinn. “We’ve got the element of surprise, but not for long. Once we get within range, Ulysses and I will dock and infiltrate the station while the rest of you engage the resistance.”
“And watch for the wormhole,” said Maggott. “What’s a wormhole look like, anyway?”
“I’m guessing you’ll know it if you see it,” said Schuster. “Sloane says it will probably be between a set of satellites.”
Going over the plan again was a formality, Quinn knew—they’d covered the contingencies a half-dozen times over the three days they’d spent in space before whatever it was had catapulted them to Uranus. Sloane had shown Schuster the process that their species used to generate what was called the Span. It needed a generator on one end and a receiver on the other. The receiver needed apparatus to create the opening itself, plus a larger computer on board the station to keep the wormhole steady so that it didn’t collapse on itself.
He and Ulysses would have to get on
the station, find the computer and plant the explosive charge to destroy it, all while keeping Kergan busy enough that he couldn’t use the amplifier to attenuate them the way he’d tried to do during their original escape.
How hard could it possibly be?
“Heads up,” said Bishop. “We’ve got four hostiles leaving the station. They’re not wasting their time letting us know they know we’re here.”
Quinn looked to Ulysses, who nodded.
“Ready as I’m gonna get,” he said.
“Jarheads,” Quinn said over the radio. “You know the drill. Take no prisoners, go out with guns blazing, avenge my death, privilege working with you…”
“Yadda yadda yadda,” said Chelsea. “Are we going to talk or attack?”
Quinn grinned wide. “You heard the lady. Drop the cloak and let’s do this.”
To an outside observer without sensors, it would have looked like four Raft spaceships suddenly appeared out of nowhere, which, in effect, they already had. Bishop, Maggott and Schuster flew in a side-by-side formation with Quinn taking the rear of the wedge. The ships engaged at full speed (or at least what Schuster had believed was full speed until a few minutes earlier) and headed straight for Oberon.
“ETA is ten minutes,” said Bishop. “Their ships are staying close to home, waiting for us.”
“Classic coward move,” Maggott growled. “Wouldnae expect anythin’ different from Kergan.”
“Don’t get cocky,” said Quinn. “Be ready for anything. We weren’t expecting that attenuation wave the last time, and we barely got through by the skin of our teeth.”
“What are the odds he’s going to try the same trick twice?” asked Gloom. “Especially if it didn’t work the first time?”
“Don’t put anything past Kergan,” Quinn warned. “Dev, are you and Sloane seeing anything on your sensors that we’re not?”