Mira looked more than disappointed. “I can’t believe you two. Well, I’m due back for a follow-up check before the big show, so see you later.” And she wheeled out.
Kate and Evan walked among the opulence. They allowed themselves a few minutes before it was time to dig in, and see if they could decode anything more of value from the Versari. It was an outside shot at best – there was almost certainly nothing they could do that would affect the outcome.
“These flowers,” Kate indicated. “Ironic, isn’t it? The majestic display, so much of a plant’s energy devoted to reproducing themselves, but of course they can’t.”
“For safety,” Evan agreed. On any planet except Earth, all plants were created in deeply controlled settings, to avoid the potential for ecological disaster.
“In the wild parts of Earth, plants simply seed, and then those seeds grow where they will. Kind of a crazy idea, but that’s how everything started. Picture landing in a spot that you didn’t get to choose, and that’s the one place you must grow, or die trying.”
“It’s true for all of us,” Evan pointed out. “We can walk around, or take a ship to another star system. But we’re still in exactly this time in the life of the universe, and in our history. We have to thrive where we are, somehow.”
The setting would have been stunningly romantic, if it were not jarred by the countdown. In less than two hours the Kelter fleet would set out on their mission, one last chance to save Kelter and everyone who lived there.
Evan was pondering the two hundred fifty-two Versari recordsets that sat, un-decoded. The destruction of the planet was going to happen at an inconvenient time.
They walked past another few beds of flowers, neatly arranged, trimmed, cultivated.
“So I’ve been thinking,” Kate said, “about regret.”
“Hey, it’s not over yet,” he offered.
“That’s what makes it an especially good idea to have regrets now. To remember them later, when it all works out. Let me tell you about one. A failure that I’m not proud of. I’ll confess it now while I have the chance.”
“Oh come on,” Evan assured her. “You’re so accomplished. And you’ve helped so many people.”
“So I guess you met one of my captains, Rod Denison.”
“Well, yeah. He rode down to the surface with us. Not my idea, I’ll have you know. What about him? You don’t mean you and him were−”
“Oh no, nothing like that,” Kate replied. “Although it would be none of your business if we were. Here’s the thing: Rod Denison had a spy, on another ship. An independent, much smaller than us, running just the one ship, captained by Paul Ricken. Rod and the spy had this game worked out where the spy would send content ahead to Denison, and also tell him where their next planned destination was, so Denison could stay one step ahead of the other ship. There was some reason why it was legal, if it were ever discovered; a hole in the spy’s contract with Ricken’s ship.”
“And?”
“And I allowed it,” Kate confessed. “For two years I allowed it. I profited. Taking advantage of a proudly independent small family. Doing exactly the same thing to them as the majors were doing to us. Not remembering who was the real enemy.”
“The Sisters.”
“Of course. They watch us fight with each other, while they slowly draw all the air out of the room.”
“You’re taking this kind of hard, Kate. I’m sure you were doing what you thought was best for your family.”
“Paul used to be a friend. I should have protected him, even as a competitor. It’s a funny thing, the independents. All so different, but the same in one way. Nothing matters more than being an independent. So we knew each other. Could recognize one another across a room, even if we had never met. Shabby donkeys will find each other, even over nine hills, my mom used to say. We were the shabby donkeys.”
Evan led the way around a lush bend in the path, to find a small courtyard with a smaller fountain. Water emerged from a hole in the top of a round boulder, then flowed down in a sheet on the rock’s surface. “But you were kind of big for that kind of independent scene,” he said. “Getting close to corporate, weren’t you?”
“Maybe that’s why I forgot. Thought we were so big. Still just a bug, compared to a major.”
“Look on the bright side. We won’t be around to trouble him anymore. Not after a few more hours. He’ll be spy-free!” Evan put both of his thumbs up sardonically.
“Here’s the final kick in the butt: He’s incoming. To Kelter, from Green. In five hours. For two years we’ve been stealing from him, and at the end, he’ll arrive right into the thick of the Affirmatix fleet. So that’s my regret.”
“I thought Affirmatix was stopping incoming traffic by now.”
“Yes, but not from Green, they couldn’t get there yet. Paul Ricken is going to come in from Green, and he’s going to die here. ”
“And this matters why?” Evan asked.
“Just my conscience, I guess. Confession. A small step in preparing to meet our maker. Don’t you have regrets?”
“Oh do I ever! But I don’t think this park is big enough to tell you about them all.”
“We shall save it for the right moment,” Kate decided. “You’ve got the rest of the Versari data with you, right? Let’s have a look.”
Private Dinner
Roe wasn’t going to pass this up. With a scant hour or so off duty, and the prospect of being recalled at any moment, he knew he should be getting some shuteye. Instead, he was making plans for dinner with Sonia West.
She had requested the dinner, out of the blue, and insisted on a private setting. While Roe had lost the use of his suite for the duration of the current mission, he still could take possession of a small officer’s lounge. That would have to do.
Marilyn wouldn’t mind. It was only dinner. And she was light-years away.
At the appointed time, they met in the dining room and picked up their respective orders to take to the lounge. Roe brought a bottle of wine. By convention, no more than two glasses was acceptable if you would have to return to duty any time in the next four hours.
Then they were alone. “Thank you for joining me on such short notice,” she said, and picked at her salad.
“You are the finest dinner companion I could hope for this side of Arrow,” he told her.
“Home?”
“When I am there,” he said. “My wife, two of my kids. A grandchild on the way. What about you?”
She obviously was hesitating. “It’s okay,” he told her. “Alcyone.”
“Have you been there?”
“No, and I don’t know the glome that goes there,” he told her. “But it is an open secret, these days. When we get orders we don’t understand, we just say that it must come from Alcyone.”
“Yes, Alcyone,” she said.
“Tell me, is it paradise like they say? Every wish fulfilled?”
Sonia considered. “In one sense, yes. In another, it is always about work. A wonderful place if you get a moment to be there. But only the most dedicated workers live there, at least that I saw. I have been realizing how much of my children’s lives I have missed.”
“Duty,” he intoned.
“Yes. Duty to the facts, duty to doing the job in the best possible way. Tell me, Captain, how do you evaluate duty? You command a ship, but you operate it at the behest of those who currently hold the rental contract. What is your duty?”
“A complex question indeed, Dr. West.”
“Please call me Sonia, at least when we are here,” she told him, smiling to the extent that her manner allowed.
She had features that a man could easily call beautiful, if you saw them in a still image, or if they were described to you. Her skin, lacking any flaw, or perhaps scrubbed of them. Eyes that conveyed brilliance within. Her absolutely straight black hair, elegant or perhaps imprisoned. Her expression, confined.
“It was easier when our mission was to defend Arrow,” Roe
said. “That was our duty. Defend our nation, defend our home. We were raised for it, trained for it, and we did it. That clarity made it easy to do everything that needed to be done. If there was ever a question of whether it was right, we thought of home. End of discussion.”
“And now?”
“Pax Commercia. It has been a good thing. Since the Pax arrived, this ship has not fired a shot. Compare that to the wars just before.”
“But that may change now.” Sonia suddenly changed her manner. She looked at him directly, more openly than he could have imagined even minutes before. For just a moment, he saw a parent. A mother.
“Yes, it may,” he allowed.
“And how will you evaluate your duty, Captain?”
She was being foolish. Roe made a point of looking up and around.
“I have been helping Vice President Lobeck to prepare the D6,” Roe replied. “Hopefully we will not use it, but he believes that it may be necessary. Or perhaps it is a bluff, to extract a concession from the government of Kelter. A chess move.”
“It seems he has configured it in an unusual way.”
“Yes,” Roe agreed. “Just one console, to control the entire weapon. Standard procedure has three control centers on three different ships, for redundancy.”
“But he seeks exclusive control.” Sonia speared some broccoli.
“Exactly so. One console, one person to give the final code. Either by voice or by a code on the keyboard. Directly controlling every detail – the personification of our sponsor.”
“And the new security guards. Under his direct command only,” she observed.
“Definitely a theme with our Mr. Lobeck. Did you notice their weapons? Blasters. A poor choice for on board a spacecraft. Gross collateral damage, whether they hit their target or not.”
“A weapon of fear.”
“Justified fear,” he told her. “To be hit with a blaster is the worst possible death. Once it touches you, the fire doesn’t stop even when it reaches your bones, until you are ash. I have seen it. In fact, I have done it,” he confessed.
He saw that even Sonia could not mask her reaction of disgust.
“For home,” he told her. “And country. As I understood it then.”
They ate the rest of their dinner in silence.
Alpha and Omega
Regardless of the fact the he had spent much of his life figuring out how to leave, Kelter was still the place where Evan had grown up. His home.
Evan looked away from the matrix of numbers in front of him, and pondered his planet of origin. A stupid ball of dust and rock, with no redeeming features.
Of his original domestic family, everyone was gone except him. Evan’s father, departed suddenly, far too soon. His mother had moved to Caledonia, following both of Evan’s sisters. He hoped they would be safe there.
Domestic family. That was a funny phrase. Domestic – to do with a home. Living together. A few times over the years, he had heard that the single word “family” once referred to a collection of related people. He had no idea if that was true – it was the kind of myth that certain people would trot out at a party so they could appear to be learned and thoughtful.
His domestic family, now light years apart. Perhaps someday he would have his own. At the right time.
Evan thought of the kids he had known from school. Many had scattered through the known worlds, finding someplace more interesting or that had greater opportunities than what Kelter had to offer. Only a few had stayed that he knew of.
Evan found himself thinking of one man who was probably still on Kelter. Lawrence. The martial arts enthusiast.
In their school years, Lawrence had tormented Evan unceasingly. Evan had been a favorite demonstration subject of the latest throw, whether he wanted to be or not. On Kelter, you could throw an opponent many meters through the air if you had enough leverage. And not just the physical abuse, but the words as well. Evan had been shy and halting, especially when it came to talking with the young women in his class, and Lawrence had gloried in pointing it out.
Just before lifting for Aurora, Evan had read an article about a man who had been devoting every spare moment in the past few years to teaching school children the confidence and martial skills to resist bullying or worse. Lawrence. Evan had read every word, and watched the accompanying video. Twice. It was him, all right. And as far as Evan could tell, it was real.
Evan took a moment to check. Lawrence was just a few kilometers away, part way across Abilene. He had started his own studio. The page proudly described his community contributions.
If Kelter survived the next few hours, he really should go visit Lawrence, Evan thought. To thank him for what he was doing.
What if he had never left the station on Aurora? Evan pondered for the hundredth time his culpability in what might now be the destruction of an entire planet. He might have simply continued to be another kind of captive scientist, churning out discoveries for his keepers. No matter what Affirmatix did with them, at least he would not have endangered so many other people.
He had created this problem. He would find a way to solve it. There was more to find in the Versari data. The Omega entries. If he could resolve the destinations of the Omega entries, it might give some tactical advantage to Kelter’s fleet. They could enter a glome from the completely opposite direction than what would be expected. An infeasible glome could suddenly change into a direct route to another known world.
Evan brought up the graphical summary of the Omega entry data, according to his best translation. The listed destinations were just plain wrong, showing routes between major known worlds, when in fact robot exploration ships going into those glomes by their Omega entries had simply vanished.
The data also contained another impossibility. The time displacement dimension.
For the Alpha entries, the listed time displacement dimension had been spot on. Any ship that passed through a glome skipped forward in time, by just a fragment. Usually just a few milliseconds. And the Versari data recorded that displacement in an exact match to what was known.
For the Omega entries, as well as Evan could translate, the time displacements were crazy, ranging from small negative values, which would be impossible, to vast positive numbers, billions of seconds.
There was a solution somewhere. He would find it, or if someone else did, he would help it to see the light of day.
There was another half hour left before they were due back in the main situation room, to witness the results of Kelter’s breakout attempt.
Evan turned to Kate, who was working beside him. “Let me show you what I’ve got so far,” he told her.
Breakout
Lobeck had expected a move to come eventually from the Kelter fleet, such as it was. Affirmatix had waited in position, like an invincible gladiator. There was no reason to waste energy and attention chasing the lesser opponent around the arena.
Now it was happening.
He studied the displays. The San Angelo and the San Miguel, the two capital ships belonging to the Kelter government, had left orbit around Forbie and were heading, with several smaller vessels, straight toward the Goodhope glome. If they wanted a battle, they were going to the right place.
Lobeck and Skylar worked together to evaluate all of the possibilities. Roe sent orders to elements of the fleet, strengthening their position in front of the glome. Two large ships for Kelter against the twelve that awaited them.
It was not going to be a fair fight.
But as it turned out, that was not where it would occur. The Kelter ships abruptly began accelerating, as fast as each could muster, laterally, avoiding the direct clash.
It took a few moments to determine their new destination.
Why there? It was a glome, all right, but it wasn’t feasible. A minimum of six hops to return to known space. Roe had stationed a light cruiser near the entry, just for completeness.
There must be some reason.
“The glome to G56T, we n
eed a quick evaluation,” Lobeck told Skylar. “Is it possible for any ship to make that circuit all the way back to Canberra?”
“Negative,” Skylar replied. “No ship can do that trip without adding fuel somewhere along the way, and they are all unexplored systems. It can’t be done.”
So if any of the ships made it to the glome, each might muster another hop, or two, or even three, before becoming helpless.
“Full chase anyway. Mister Roe, direct the fleet to pursue, and launch missiles as soon as feasible. That is an act of war, and we must respond.”
No single ship could do the trip.
Of course! It was a pyramid scheme. Only one ship had to make it back to known space. The others could give up their remaining fuel along the way. Lobeck became alarmed.
If you give desperate people a few hours, they will come up with something. Lobeck wasn’t sure who to be furious with.
“Full acceleration!” Lobeck ordered. “Their destination is the G56T glome. Give it everything.”
Space battles were oddly different from those on land. The passage of time. Mathematics. Silence ruled on the bridge of the ship, except the hum of machinery, measured discussion, and the ever-present hiss of Skylar’s air supply. For any given ship involved in a battle, nothing ever happened until everything happened.
Much of the battle was fought missile to missile. The Affirmatix fleet launched missiles whose mission was to hit and destroy the Kelter ships. Kelter launched missiles to destroy those missiles before they struck. At close range, some missiles had other weapons, to blind or disable enemy missiles.
Affirmatix had a huge advantage in numbers. Generally, one counter missile could take out one attacking missile in a fire of mutual destruction. One easy way to overwhelm the counter missiles was to simply launch too many attackers.
But Kelter in turn had an advantage, in time and position. Even as the missiles began tangling in the vast space between the ships, it became clear that the Affirmatix fleet would not be able to stop at least some of the smaller ships from reaching the glome.
Missiles collided with other missiles. Missiles stabbed with lasers, some even launched projectiles or sub-missiles so they could destroy and yet stay themselves intact.
The Great Symmetry Page 26