Defending the Galaxy: The Sentinels of the Galaxy

by Maria V. Snyder

  DONE.

  “Check your port…” The effort to talk is too much; my eyes drift shut.

  FLY?

  I thought you’d never ask. I leave my battered and injured body behind. There’s no pain in the Q-net. No effort at all. I spin and swirl and dip and cross the Galaxy in seconds as I fly with Q. There are no shadow-blobs. No murdering looters. No fear. Just peace and knowledge. All the answers to all the questions contained within the vast Q-net.

  But that’s not quite true. There have been things Q hasn’t known. The looters managed to communicate without using it.

  NOTHING IS OMNISCIENT. I KNOW ONLY WHAT THE NATIONS HAVE TAUGHT ME.

  And fifth nation has taught you all about greed, lies, murder, betrayal, and lots of other unsavory behaviors. Go us.

  THEY ARE NOT QUALITIES UNIQUE TO HUMANS.

  Why isn’t that comforting? Perhaps because three out of the four previous nations have ended in extinction. What are our chances of making it like fourth nation?

  CURRENTLY FORTY-TWO PERCENT.

  Currently? Does that mean it changes?

  YES.

  Ah. Probably depending on what we’re doing. Destroying Warriors and allowing the shadow-blobs into our dimension probably reduces our chances.

  CORRECT.

  And I can’t think of a way that we’re going to win this. They have the Protectorate, control of most of the portals, weapons, and resources. We have…a handful of security officers. It’s grim. I’m safer in here. Besides, haven’t I done enough? Isn’t it time someone else more qualified takes the burden?

  I shake off the depressing thoughts and concentrate on flying, dipping toward the glittering star roads. From this perspective, the ships that are on the stars roads, crinkling space and jumping time, look like black pearls on a silver string. One star road for each ship. And those roads can’t cross or else bad things happen.

  CORRECT.

  There’s always danger. And I’ve certainly had my share of it. I wonder if my body dies, will I be stuck in the Q-net forever?

  STUCK?

  I get a sense of indignation perhaps even hurt feelings. Sorry. If this is my afterlife, I’ll take it over oblivion. This is my idea of heaven. But I’ve lots of things to do.

  YOU DO.

  Actually it’s a crushing list. And it’d be easier to do while flying with Q instead of worming in my physical body. Might as well take full advantage of my time here. I send Radcliff a report about what happened on Pingliang. When I finish, I’m not sure what to do. There isn’t a pull back to my body, which is concerning. Okay, it’s freaking me out. I need a distraction and fast. Perhaps some research. What information should I find that would most help Morgan or Beau? While I’m deciding, a message from Radcliff pops up.

  2522:269: Lawrence, I received your report. It matches what Officer Morgan sent me yesterday. The new information about how you tricked the HoLFs is very interesting, but sounds like it should be only used out of desperation due to the risk of severe injury. I haven’t heard the good news about your recovery yet. You gave us all a scare. I’m glad you made it through the surgery.

  Surgery? Yesterday? Lots of alarming statements in that short message. The sudden need for a hug fills me, pushing up my throat. Which is odd, considering I don’t have a physical form.

  <—Officer Radcliff, I don’t know if I’m recovered. My last memory is of being in the pits in Pingliang. I’ve been flying with Q.

  There’s a very long pause. Did I just freak out Radcliff? I’ve never seen him unbalanced. Even when Niall was dying, Radcliff remained calm. But if he’s upset that means… No. Not going there. I’m not worming into my medical files either.

  —>Hey partner, this is Beau. What’s going on?

  Oh my stars! I must have died.

  Fifteen

  2522:269

  I stare at Beau’s message. Radcliff relinquished his end of the conversation to Beau, which doesn’t bode well for me. At all. I somehow missed a day. My injuries must have been severe enough for surgery, but everyone was trapped in Planet Pingliang’s pits. Did they perform surgery on me in the pits? Yes, I know I’ve only to read Morgan’s report. Yet reluctance drags on me. I’d rather hear the horrible news from my partner. Again the need for a hug pulses in my non-existent veins.

  —>Ara, are you there? Talk to me, partner.

  * * *

  <—Hi, Beau. I’m not sure what’s going on. I’m either dead or unconscious.

  * * *

  —>You’re not dead. Morgan would have told us.

  True, the woman is pretty no-nonsense and would send a report ASAP.

  <—Where am I? I mean my physical body?

  * * *

  —>Planet Ruijin. Your injuries needed immediate attention so the team took you to Ruijin. Last we heard you were still in surgery.

  Some of my panic eases. I must still be in surgery or in that post-op fog of sleep. That also explains why Morgan wanted to know the number of the pit that connects to Ruijin. I release a non-existent breath. Okay then, best make good use of my time in the Q-net.

  <—How’s the evacuation going? Do you need any help communicating with the Ruijin’s Chief of Security?

  * * *

  —>No, you already created a channel to Ruijin for Morgan. And even though she messaged them, the people in Ruijin’s base had quite the shock when Morgan showed up with you and the team. Seems no one really believed us about the HoLFs. It’s hard to be angry about that as I remember feeling the same way when you first told us. We’re discussing changing our evac to Planet Qingyang since the survivors from Pingliang are going to Ruijin. Can you create a secure channel to Qingyang’s Chief of Security? Officer Samuel James.

  * * *

  <—I can, but the looters are building a blockade around Qingyang.

  * * *

  —>We hope our stay there is only temporary. Dr. Carson’s efforts have been successful. We are taking full advantage.

  Bertie must have found the looters’ communication frequency and Radcliff can now eavesdrop on the looters—good news. I sense he’s reluctant to expose any of Radcliff’s plans, so I don’t ask. Nothing is entirely secure in the Q-net.

  <—Anything else I can do? The secure channel to Qingyang won’t take us long.

  * * *

  —>Can you make a channel to Nanxiong?

  * * *

  <—Yes. What else?

  * * *

  —>Concentrate on waking up!

  As if it’s that easy. However, what is easy are the links to Officer James and Nanxiong, which Q has already created while I was messaging Beau.

  <—I’ll try. The secure channels are ready.

  * * *

  —>Thanks. Later, partner.

  I hope there is a later. And if there is, I plan to hug everyone—Niall, my parents, Beau, Elese, and even Morgan and Radcliff. Everyone! In the meantime, I fly through the security programs around the Protectorate’s databases. There has to be some record of what weapons and resources were sent to the looters.

  Even flying, I have to be careful not to trip any alarms. The protections around the Protectorate are thick complex beasts. Q helpfully highlights the paths of least resistance, places where I might slip through without causing any ripples. It’s a slow creeping pace as I ease through the network of tiny holes and miniscule gaps in their security, which I wouldn’t have been able to do if I was entangled. Hours, days, years pass before I break through and the warren of data clusters is accessible to me.

  My elation is tempered by the fact that I’m not sure what I’m looking for. There’s not going to be a Q-cluster labeled “stolen supplies for looters.” I have to think like them. How do you make a shuttle disappear? It’s not a small item like an energy wave gun. People would notice that a couple dozen or more are missing. Unless there’s a reason for it. What would cause them—oh!

  Crinkling space is dangerous. Also just traveling from a crinkle point to a planet is dangerous. Space
is a hostile environment. Many accidents have happened in the four hundred plus E-years of space travel. I don’t remember any calamities regarding a Protector Class ship, but it might be classified. Good thing I’m in the heart of their organization.

  Q, can you please find any reports on lost ships or any accidents involving Protector Class space ships in the last twenty E-years?

  ON IT.

  While Q is searching through the massive amounts of data, I look for information about the Protectorate ships enroute to the Warrior planets. There are twenty-two in time jumps. I arrange them in order of when they’re due to reach their destinations. The earliest one will arrive at Planet Suzhou in forty-eight days. I pull up the roster of personnel assigned to the ship—everyone in the Protectorate works for DES. The list of names means nothing to me. It’s not like the traitors are marked with a big red arrow. Too bad, ’cause that would make it so much easier.

  I access the suspected-looter-colluder file. Then I write a program that compares the names in that file to the ship’s roster, to flag any that are on both lists. Once I go through one ship, the Q-net can do the other ships.

  And now that I’m thinking about it, how would it work if only some of the people in the Protectorate space ship are traitors? Wouldn’t you need everyone in agreement to take over a whole ship?

  Perhaps my fear that an entire ship loyal to the looters being days away from appearing in Yulin’s orbit is a bit…overly dramatic. I need to look at it from another direction. Jarren knew DES would send the Protectorate Class ships to all the Warrior planets once Xinji went silent. It’s standard procedure. He never planned for the Protectorate to find survivors on Xinji, just destroyed Warriors and dead people. In the face of such a tragedy, they wouldn’t even think to search for missing Warriors.

  But what about the shadow-blobs? They would be thick by the time the Protectorate soldiers arrived. Unable to see the hostiles, the soldiers would be killed. DES would then quarantine the planets. That would let the looters have the planet all to themselves, but what would they do about the HoLFs? They couldn’t work in the pits with shadow-blobs attacking. Perhaps that was why Jarren was so keen to learn how we countered them. They’re an unexpected complication to his plans.

  If I’m right, then we don’t need to fear the Protector ships enroute to us. Some good news. But it also means the looters have to ensure that everyone is dead when all those ships arrive, which we already figured out.

  Does that mean he planned to kill everyone in the research bases from the very beginning? A horrible thought!

  Jarren. It all started with him. I should be looking into his history. Q? Can you please gather all the information possible about Jarren and put it into one file?

  ON IT.

  I still think we’re missing a key connection. Q? Do you have any information on those ships yet?

  THERE ARE FIVE PROTECTOR CLASS SPACE SHIPS THAT MEET YOUR CRITERIA.

  Details about the ships appear. Two just disappeared—their status unknown. Another blew up. I read through the report. Seems they were testing an experimental weapon and it malfunctioned. Well, they assumed it had based on the data that was being sent at the time. Comments about an explosion were followed by a spike in energy readings and then complete silence. The most interesting thing about the incident is the company that built the new weapon is one of the three funding the looters. The fourth ship never appeared after crinkling space. It could still be in a time jump due to a navigation error. And the last reported an asteroid hit right before going silent.

  If the looters have all five ships, then they have a ton of weapons, including five dozen military shuttles, twenty-five company-sized transport ships, and about twenty-five hundred soldiers. I ask Q to compile a list of all the items on those ships. Most of those details are classified, but we’re in the heart of the Protectorate’s database.

  When the list is ready, Q and I stretch it into a long super thin snake and slip it through all of the Protectorate defenses. It’s slow exacting work. Once the list—and I—clears the last layer of protection, I send it to Radcliff along with an explanation about the five ships. At least he’ll get an idea of what we’re up against. I also include my thoughts that the ships arriving at the Warrior planets are probably on our side even though Radcliff might have already figured that out.

  Q drops a large file about Jarren into my Q-cluster. I’m about to go read it when a message from Radcliff arrives.

  2522:270: Lawrence, I appreciate the report, but you need to return to Ruijin ASAP. The surgery went well and you didn’t lose as much blood as was feared. You must wake up. Consider it an order.

  I stare at the date. It didn’t seem like I spent another day flying in the Q-net. It’s interesting that I’m not thirsty, hungry, or tired. I’m glad my body is still alive and I’d love to obey his order, but I don’t know how. Perhaps if I fly to the planet and read my medical file, it would help me reconnect to my body. Or I can try to disentangle from the Q-net. Worth a shot. I send Radcliff a yes, sir and fly to Ruijin.

  The report on my surgery is filled with medical jargon. I need a medical degree to understand it all. But the overall consensus is I suffered multiple lacerations, including two deep puncture wounds, which caused bleeding, both internal and external, ’cause I’m a classic overachiever. At least my vitals are steady and straightforward. Nothing I read creates a tug toward my body. Disentangling also doesn’t work, because I’m lacking that…extra level.

  It’s hard to explain. It’s like when you’re concentrating on something and everything around you fades. But it doesn’t completely disappear, a part of you is still aware of the physical things nearby. And, when you’re interrupted, you snap back into the here and now and the colors and shapes return to your surroundings. That’s what it’s like to have Q in my head. When we’re interacting, the rest of the world fades. Except this time, there’s no snapping back. The awareness of what’s around me is gone.

  Maybe my body just needs time to heal. Let’s go with that. To keep from panicking, I read through Jarren’s file. Jarren Riley Hoyt was born in 2396 on Planet Kaiping. Huh. Did I know his last name? He’s always just been Jarren. Knowing his middle and last name makes him seem more…normal. He’s the only child of two biologists who transferred to Planet Xinji when he was thirteen.

  I read through his soch-time reports. His intelligence was obvious from a young age as he found loopholes in rules and discovered ways to trick the facilitator. That poor woman was outmatched by the time he was six. His best and only friend on Kaiping was Rick Nolwart (also known as the infamous Warrick Nolt). They spent a great deal of time together in the recreation room playing video games and were inseparable.

  Leaving Kaiping must have been devastating. No wonder he talked about Warrick all the time. I remembered being so annoyed about that, mocking him behind his back with Lan. Now I feel bad. But not too bad. That’s not a reason to kill people. But as I read his soch reports on Xinji, it’s obvious he was hurting. He put on an act for us with that confident swagger and spark of mischief.

  And just when he and Lan fell in love, his parents transferred to Planet Suzhou, and he’s put into detention for two years because he tried to alter the arrival time of the Interstellar Class supply ship. Hmmm. The fact that he tried meant he knew about the star roads. We all know about the star roads, but you really need to understand them like the navigators do to even think about messing with them. Perhaps even then he didn’t care if he killed people to get what he wanted.

  But that brings me to the question, how would he have known? He traveled on an Interstellar Class ship to get to Xinji. Did he spend time with the navigators? There’s nothing in the ship’s logs. Was there anyone on the ship that failed out of navigator school? I look at the passenger and crew list for that trip. Scanning the names, I stop at one. Victoria Oarsen, a crinkle engine specialist. Could she be the influence for Osen Vee?

  Q, can you please check if Victoria Oarsen’s
attended one of the navigator training schools?

  ON IT.

  I keep reading the names but nothing else pops out at me. Then I pull up the personnel list of the people assigned to Xinji’s research base. About half way down, another name snags my attention. Ursan Kodiak, a Q-net technician who worked in the base’s control center. I groan. Ursy Bear. And here I thought he picked the name from the Ursa Major constellation—which looks like a bear—that can be seen from Earth. Since I’d been named (twice) after one of those eighty-eight constellations, I know them all. Never seen any of them, though.

  VICTORIA OARSEN ATTENDED DES’S SPACE FLIGHT SCHOOL ON PLANET DELTA.

  Thanks. How about Ursan Kodiak? There’s a slight pause.

  HIM, TOO. SAME SCHOOL.

  Ah. So despite Jarren’s claims that he was behind all those pseudonyms, they are real people. And I bet he was trying to divert my attention away from them. It worked.

  What happened to Rick Nolwart? Another pause.

  ATTENDED THE SAME SCHOOL.

  At the same time as the others?

  YES.

  What’s he doing now?

  CAPTAIN IN THE PROTECTORATE. STATUS UNKNOWN.

  Was he on one of the missing ships?

  YES.

  A strange mix of emotions rolls through my non-existent body. Elation over finally figuring it out and having proof. Frustration for not thinking of this sooner. And terror—these people are highly intelligent!

  Q, how many students were in their cohort? And which ones graduated? A list appears of ten names. Only one graduated. I don’t worry about her, instead I ask Q to investigate the other six names. Where are they now? After a few minutes Q comes back with the answers. Three are in the Protectorate, two are in the high levels of DES, and one works for Catro Corp, one of the looters’ major investor. A very busy and ambitious cohort. I put all the information together and send it to Radcliff. Yes, I expect him to yell at me for not waking up. Not much I can do about it.