Naila dropped his head. “At one time,” he said, “there were. Many systems were destroyed in the early days of the war, before we developed technology to restrict how many Aetherbeings can enter our system at the same time.” He made a gesture to the display showing the Kulsat shuttle. “We cannot delay anymore. Once we are in Gliesan space, I will grant you limited access to our history files, though I must warn you, many of our records will be off-limits.”
“I understand,” Justine said. “Thank you for taking the time to explain what you have. I look forward to meeting with your government.”
Naila nodded to Fairamai, who used her feathery fingers to tap instructions into their control computer. The targeting system went back online, and the power level indicator rose.
“What are you doing?” Justine barked out.
“We must destroy the shuttle,” Naila said. “If they report our presence here to their masters, the Kulsat will focus their aggression on Gliese. Even with our technology, they may eventually be able to swarm us.”
Justine took a few steps forward. “You can’t kill them. They’re innocent. Red Spot risked her life to save me.”
“Red Spot?”
“She’s a Potential.” Justine hoped the Gliesans were familiar with the Kulsat social structure, and understood what she was trying to tell them. “The science leader on the ship, Three Crescents, killed her friend, Green Stripe, just to scare me into talking. Then he went on a rampage, and was going to kill all the crew. Red Spot saved the other Kulsat from destruction, and she saved me.”
Naila continued to regard Justine as if her words weren’t translating properly.
Exasperated, Justine said, “Not all Kulsat have a complete disregard for life.”
The two Gliesans exchanged glances with one another, but made no comment.
Justine took a deep breath. “From what I’ve experienced, it seems the Risen are the aggressive caste in Kulsat society. The others are subservient, almost like peasants.”
“Kulsat hierarchy is familiar to us,” Naila said. “Though the non-Risen on the shuttle pose little direct threat, they would reveal knowledge of our system should they ever escape and return to the Consortium. Bringing them with us to Gliese is a security risk, as is leaving them here.”
“Red Spot said there are other non-Risen who don’t agree with the Consortium’s policies,” she added. “She could prove to be a valuable ally.”
“The Solan may be right,” Fairamai said to Naila. “Perhaps the Potential will give us tactical information on their fleet movements.”
That wasn’t what Justine had in mind. She didn’t think Red Spot would betray the Consortium, but as long as the Gliesans didn’t destroy the shuttle, she would go along with them.
Naila nodded. “Very well. I will leave the decision to our commander.” He turned back to his console. A blob of Kinemetic material rose out of the floor and formed into a seat that floated up behind the Gliesan. Automatically, he sat and began to flick his feathery fingers over the computer controls. “We will take them with us as prisoners of war.” He glanced back at Justine.
Justine nodded. However the Gliesans chose to consider the Kulsat on that shuttle, she thought of them as political refugees, not soldiers.
26
Qin Station :
Sol System :
After his conversation with Alice, Alex gave her a brief rundown of the events that occurred from the moment he first entered the Centauri system over more than fourteen years ago, to the point when they were captured by Chow Yin’s patrol.
He left out a few choice tidbits, such as the fact that Ah Tabai was human, and that Justine had been captured by the Kulsat. Instead, he told her that his friend had died when the alien ship was destroyed by the mines around Pluto.
When he’d finished his story, the two of them returned to the larger lab and approached Sian. The programmer gave him an inquisitive look.
“How is it coming along?” Alex asked. He kept his voice even.
Sian blinked. “Slow going. There are a lot of variables.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Alex asked. “We need to speed up the timetable.”
Glancing at Alice, Sian took on a look of concern.
Alice turned to the guard. “Leave us.” At first, the soldier didn’t budge, but under her continued glare, he finally nodded. “Your Highness,” he said, and stepped outside.
Alice closed the door behind him and faced Sian. “I am aware that you and Alex have been dragging your feet on this project.” She held up a hand. “Not to worry. I will report that you were merely being meticulous in your calculations. There are new developments that require the utmost efficiency.”
Sian said, “There’s a lot of work to do, in that case.”
Stepping over to the other computer, Alex opened the program code. “Just tell me what you need. It’s been a while, but I catch on quickly.”
∞
Over the next two days, Sian and Alex worked through the program to create the algorithm to disseminate the frequencies hidden in the Song of the Stars. While they wrote code, Alex wondered at how Klaus had managed to create his program so accurately: according to Justine’s report, he ended up with six possible combinations of the code.
At one point, Alex couldn’t follow Sian’s work anymore, and he was just getting in the way.
Every few hours, Alice came in to check on their progress. Whenever she was there, she ordered the guard to leave them alone.
One such time, as the code was nearing completion, she motioned for Alex to join her on the other side of the lab.
“Yes?”
She turned on a holoslate and called up several astrophysics charts.
“I don’t know how much you learned from your alien friends, or how much you’ve theorized on your own, but I have a few thoughts I’d like to run past you.”
“Of course.”
“It has to do with the nature of the star beacons. When you traveled to the Centauri System, you did so just under the speed of light—though you were not conscious for the duration. However, once the Gliesans returned you here, the trip was near instantaneous.”
“Yes,” Alex said. “They said the star beacons exist at the same point in space.”
Alice’s face clouded over. “That would imply some kind of quantum entanglement, but that’s not what you said earlier. You said, ‘outside light, the star beacons all occupy the same space.’ ”
“Right.”
She shook her head. “That’s not the same thing.”
“I don’t understand.”
“For centuries, physicists have been toying with the concepts of faster-than-light travel. For example, Einstein-Rosen bridges, or wormholes. They’ve toyed with the concepts of quantum tunneling based on the Casimir effect. There’s the slipstream theory, which you might know as hyperspace. Now, one might assume ‘outside light’ is a reference to this. After all, how can light exist if you are traveling faster than it? But something doesn’t add up. I don’t think that’s the answer.”
“Then what?”
“Well, how can two or more objects occupy the same space? It’s a physical impossibility.”
“What about decoherence?” Alex asked. “Some kind of a quantum immortality and quantum suicide relationship?”
Alice nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. But I think there’s something more to it.”
“Go on.”
“Well, that’s where I run into a wall. I can’t help but think that many of these concepts have roots in ancient religions. It’s almost as if our ancestors from thousands of years ago had a better grasp of the metaphysical aspects of the universe, and weren’t encumbered by our need to quantify it in scientific terms.”
“You think this all might have something to do with religion?”
“Well,” Alice said, “a great deal of your Mayan mysticism is based on your ancestors’ contact with these ‘luminous’ beings. The Grace, as you calle
d them. Is it such a stretch that other religions and cultures may have had some kind of contact, and developed their own explanations for it?”
Not certain where the conversation was going, Alex asked, “So you think the ancient religions had a better understanding of the universe than we do?”
“Maybe not in a scientific way, but their lack of hard astrophysical knowledge didn’t hinder them from coming up with theories.” Alice raised a finger. “Now, if we examine your alien friend’s use of the phrase, ‘outside light’ again, we must admit the possibility of dimensional transference.”
“You think the star beacons can send a ship to another dimension—”
“Where there might exist a corresponding star beacon at a fixed point in their space.”
“—and then send the ship back into our dimension in a different point in space.”
“That would explain it, wouldn’t it?”
Alex nodded. “I guess it would.”
For the first time since meeting Alice, Alex saw that her expression was one of pure wonder. Gone was the angry and bitter young woman. Astrophysics was her calling, and he could tell it was what made her the happiest. Deep inside, he wished the events that had led her here had never happened, and that they’d met in other circumstances.
Alex was aware that, though he was over thirty-years old chronologically—only a few years younger than Alice—because of the time he’d spent in photonic travel, he was biologically an eighteen-year-old. There were too many differences between the two of them besides age.
A sharp pang of regret ran through him over how the course of his life had affected him. Suddenly, Alex felt more alone than he ever had.
“Done!” Sian said, shocking him out of his reverie.
Practically jumping out of her seat, Alice hurried over to look at the completed code. Alex followed at a slower pace.
“It’s compiling,” the programmer said. “Give it a minute, and then we can run the algorithm.”
Together, the three of them watched, as if that very act could speed up the process.
When the program was ready, Sian looked up at them. “Shall I run it?”
Alice nodded, her face revealing that she was too excited to say it aloud.
Sian ran the program. Within seconds, it spat out two possible combinations for the priming sequence.
“Two?” Alice said, frowning.
The programmer gave a slight shake of his head. “I’m not sure how Klaus managed to get the sequence correct the first time.” He turned in his seat. “The only thing I can think of is that he must have used Yaxche’s grandson’s recitation, whereas we used Yaxche’s—and yes, we have two recordings of it.” Taking a breath, he said, “It’s possible the old man’s voice has become weaker over the years. He was off on one note.”
“At least we don’t have to worry about variables,” Alex said. “Klaus didn’t have access to me, or to Quantum Resources’ trials, so he had to test for environment conditions, gravity, atmosphere, Kinemet volume and so forth. From the records of our trials, and from what Major Turner told me, I can recreate the necessary conditions.”
Alice took a deep breath. “But it still means we only have a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right. Which means—”
Another voice cut through their discussion. “Which means there will have to be a necessary sacrifice.”
Alex hadn’t noticed the main door to the lab had opened. In the frame, standing up with the aid of his biomechatronic legs, Chow Yin put his hands on his hips and surveyed the occupants of the lab.
He gave them a disapproving glance. “Did you think I would leave you to your own devices without monitoring you every step of the way?”
“Sire!” Sian said in a gasp.
“I expected betrayal from Mr. Manez, but you, Sian? I rescued you from life imprisonment. I’m very disappointed.”
Then he wagged an accusatory finger at Alice, his face pulled into an expression of disapproval. “And you, my daughter.” Then his lips spread into a wide smile. “You were correct. All you needed to do was to play the damsel in distress who needed rescuing, and look, your knight in shining armor gave up all his secrets for you.”
Alex’s stomach did a lazy flip-flop. He’d been duped, and easily at that.
A crooked, satisfied smile on her face, Alice separated herself from the other two and made her way over to stand beside her father.
Shaking his head, Chow Yin motioned for the guards who had accompanied him to enter the lab and seize the prisoners.
Sian took a step back, and tried to resist when one of the guards grabbed his arm. “What are you going to do?”
Chow Yin, Emperor of Sol System, said, “It’s quite simple. We have two possible formulas to create a Kinemat, and now we have a volunteer.”
27
Cerro Azul :
Guatemala :
When Patli finished his story, Michael noticed Humberto’s eyes boring not into the storyteller, but into him, as if trying to measure his reaction. It was an incredible story, and if Michael had not encountered Ah Tabai, Aliah, and the Kulsat, he would have immediately discounted the tale as nothing more than a fable. Now, however, he was inclined to believe the story had merit. From the description of the Grace’s ship and its destruction to the radiation sickness caused by the piece of active Kinemet brought back to the camp, and ending with the villagers’ rescue from the tall, bird-like aliens—it all made sense with what Michael had already learned.
It was obvious that he had not hidden his belief as he listened to the story; Humberto’s expression as he considered Michael was proof of that.
For one fleeting moment, the thought of denying the story went through Michael’s mind. After all, the fewer people who knew the truth of the galaxy’s history at this point, the less chance of the information getting back to Chow Yin, who would use it to his advantage.
Humberto’s track record of assistance and reliability prompted Michael to trust in the Cruzado.
As if sensing Michael had come to his decision, Humberto asked, “Do you think this is all true?”
“For the most part, yes.” Michael rubbed at the stubble growing on his chin. “I’m not supposed to go into the details. It’s a matter of international security, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy by my government. I trust you won’t reveal what you learn here to anyone?”
Nodding, Humberto said, “So long as I have your word that our people won’t be exploited anymore. It sounds like there is a connection between our ancestors and whatever it is out there.” He pointed skyward.
“Let me put it to you this way,” Michael said. “There’s a very real and imminent threat in the galaxy, known only to a handful of people. The ‘god’ described in Patli’s story is most likely a member of a powerful race of aliens who, at one time, could restrain the other systems in the galaxy. In the past millennium, they’ve disappeared, and the threat grew.”
“I take it you are talking about something more dangerous than Emperor Chow Yin?”
Michael said, “We encountered this menace. They ripped our ship apart with a single strike, and from what we learned, the only reason they didn’t destroy us is that they didn’t consider us to be worth the effort.”
Nodding toward Patli, Humberto said, “And you believe the only defense might be found within a thousand-year-old tale?”
Michael shrugged. “The formula for Kinemetic conversion was in this storyteller’s tale, the Song of the Stars. Apparently, it was passed along to this Subo Ak by the dying alien. Perhaps Subo Ak left more clues that might help us.”
Humberto spoke rapidly in Spanish to Patli, who then nodded and replied. The Cruzado said, “He says the shrine is in a mostly forgotten area of the Cerro Azul—the Blue Hills. It is where the warriors of the lost village first learned of the fate of their loved ones. It is in the shrine where Subo Ak etched the story on stone columns. Patli has not made the journey there in more than twenty years, but he remembers the way.”
“And he’s willing to show us the way?”
Humberto nodded. “He seems more than happy to do so. Few people have shown this much interest in his story.” He said something to Patli who, despite his age, sprang from his chair and hurried into his house. When he returned, he was wearing hiking boots and had a large sack full of food. He was ready to go.
Together, they went to the truck, and Yaxche and Patli squished themselves into the front beside Migel, while the other three piled into the back.
“We’ve probably got enough fuel to get there,” Migel said as he pulled out onto the dirt road and headed north under Patli’s directions, “but I doubt we’ll have enough to get back to Copán Ruinas.”
“No problem,” Humberto said. “Las Amates is only twenty or thirty kilometers north of the border. We should be able to make it there to refuel. If not, I have some friends there who can bring us some hydro.”
To Diego, Humberto said, “If this horse trail is passable, it will let us go back and forth to Guatemala discreetly.”
As it turned out, the trail was passable, but only on foot or hoof. The truck was too wide, and the ground too soft for the tires to get traction. They all had to get out and walk. While the three Cruzados wore military boots, and Patli had hiking gear, both Yaxche and Michael had street shoes on. According to the old man, they were only a few kilometers away from the shrine. By the time they got there, Michael’s feet were completely caked with mud, and his ankles burned with the strain of the hike. He was so miserable, he barely registered it when they finally reached their destination.
The area, as Humberto had told them while they hiked, was part of a national park. While there was a healthy tourist industry there, he didn’t think many people would venture that deep into the hills. Even if they did, very few people could interpret the Mayan writing on the shrine.
Worlds Away (The Interstellar Age Book 3) Page 18