Remember the Starfighter

by Michael Kan

  He looked off at his surroundings, and glanced at the large fusion chamber in the center. As dark as ever, the chamber vibrated in a rhythmic beat, the equipment still functional and unblemished by time.

  “Your ship has been here for so long, but no one knew.”

  “Not anymore,” she said.

  Arendi walked past him and stared up at the fusion chamber, the ancient A.I. quiet.

  “Initially, we had focused on re-establishing contact with Earth. The crew had long been dead, and we had no superior.”

  “The comm interference,” Julian said. “You could never get a message out?”

  “Every few centuries, we could glean some small sporadic data from outside. Data we had to slowly piece together. But we were never certain if EarthForce had received our signal.”

  Arendi then walked closer to the fusion chamber, and placed her hand on the container surrounding it. She did so, affectionately, brushing the glass with her fingers, although the sadness was still there. Julian approached her side, and saw the worried glance in her eyes.

  “You were alone this whole time.”

  Arendi wasn’t quick to answer. She simply rubbed the glass, and then pressed her hand completely on its cold surface.

  “Eventually, Servetus moved beyond his programming,” she went on. “To focus on the mission at hand. He calculated that even with Earth’s aid, it would not be enough to stop the enemy. They would simply return.”

  “So a plan was devised,” she added. “And I became a part of it.”

  Pacing back, Arendi released her hand from the glass. She was calm, but still reflective, and held her arms together, walking away.

  “The plan was a success,” Julian said. “It’s more than you could have hoped for.”

  “But it could not be done alone,” she replied. “Even with all of Servetus’s calculations, he could not foresee it. He could not foresee you.”

  Arendi raised her head and looked at him. It was a glance based on gratitude, the passing look eventually blinking away. She unfurled her arms.

  “It may be some time before EarthForce formally responds to our communication. Another opening will need to be made again. But it’s done.”

  “Come,” she then said, leading Julian out from the mainframe room. “The Alliance technology that we’ve brought with us, I’ve applied it.”

  ***

  It was a frame of a ship, bare bones and incomplete. The pieces extended to only one side, but Julian could see the elliptical outline of the metal chassis.

  “I recognize this,” he said. “We’re you building an Endervar ship?”

  It was among the structures inside the Elion’s hanger bay, the room containing the various technologies in development. A mess it had become, the floor littered with vine-like wires, piles of metal scraps and components ready to be assembled together or recycled into material matter.

  “Yes, it’s a hybrid ship.” Arendi said, looking at fragments of the unfinished prototype. “It was meant to be a backup to the other vessel. The one that you had recovered.”

  “You traveled the galaxy on it,” Julian said. “But this one doesn’t look quite ready.”

  “No. It’s been abandoned. What remaining resources we possess have been allocated to other projects.”

  She waved her hand to the surrounding activities, as a small group of spider-bots were hard at work. One-half of the hanger bay seemed devoted to salvage, the smell of shredded hull wafting in the air. The other was cleanly organized, the wires feeding into a set of different containers lined up against the walls.

  Cell after cell had been planted into the floor, the glass tubes encasing the alien matter extracted from the Endervar gateway. Julian found not only exotic darkness held behind the chambers, but other elements too, the globs of transparent energy held in place by fields of static.

  Bit by bit, the Elion had collected the enemy matter, building up the reserves for study, and eventual use.

  “We could contain it, and even use some of it,” she explained. “This one in particular.”

  Arendi pointed to the containment device, the pools of watery liquid bubbling up and down through the cylinder.

  “This is what Endervar ships are made out of?” he asked.

  “Partially. It’s the only matter that the gateway generates, which can survive in our universe once fully formed,” she said. “It acts as a medium to direct their power, and contain it. With exceptionally large amounts of mass, a ship can house and exploit the enemy’s energy, to varying degrees.”

  Julian inspected the container and tapped the glass. “It seems so harmless,” he said.

  “If only,” she replied.

  “But you could control it.”

  “No, not fully. It was more dangerous than we thought. We still don’t understand them.”

  He turned around and saw Arendi looking off at the hollowed chassis of the incomplete ship.

  “All we had were our theories, and the small-scale experiments,” she said. “Servetus feared our presence might one day alert the enemy. So we invested everything in what we thought might be our only chance.”

  Julian nodded. It was an echo of what she had recounted before. Only now, he could see it first hand, the traces of that effort everywhere across the hanger bay floor.

  “The ship we created was small, but large enough to use the Endervar warping effect,” she went on. “It was made primarily to replicate their faster-than-light propulsion. But the ship was only equipped for several long-distance jumps.”

  She approached a nearby container, and grabbed the object attached to the side. It was a simple welding torch, the device igniting with the press of a switch at its hilt.

  “The technology we had at our disposal... we were so limited.”

  “But it was enough,” he added. “You did what you could.”

  She held on to the device tight, the fire twisting into a flickering blue.

  “The Endervars, they were tracking us,” she said. “Our prototype ship could pass through the anomaly unimpeded. But the moment we did, something changed.”

  “You told me about that,” he said. “The matter became energized.”

  “Not just energized. But almost like it was alive. It must have been calling out to them.”

  She closed her eyes, not sure how to convey it. Arendi could feel the guilt.

  “I saw the files Julian. The main Endervar fleets must have been chasing us. The danger we brought...”

  Arendi paused and sadly looked at the fire. It raged on, the flame like a dagger jutting forth.

  “You did what you had to,” he said. “You didn’t know.”

  He came to her side, and grabbed her hand. Feeling his touch, she let go, the torch passing into his grasp.

  “You wanted to show me something,” Julian said, shutting it off, and placing it back down.

  Arendi stiffened, and focused. She led Julian off to the corner of the room, where the platform lay.

  “Here,” she said. “This is how we will disrupt the Endervar shield.”

  He looked at the floor, and saw the weapon casings. Altogether, there were five of them, each one stacked high and just shy of his own height.

  “Missiles?” he said.

  “Yes, but redesigned with Alliance technology.”

  She approached the nearest one, and began opening its base, unscrewing the plates of metal.

  “The original missiles could only open a small breach into the Endervar shield. Just large enough to fit a ship,” she said. “But these. Although they haven’t been tested, they should work.”

  Taking off the covering, Arendi pointed to the weapon’s modified payload. It carried a containment pod of Endervar particles, the opaque repository patched together from scratched old parts. Attached to the sides was the chrome packaging of a standard di-fusion reactor, along with other Alliance-developed gear.

  “Servetus believes one missile alone will have more than enough power to completely
nullify the shield,” Arendi said.

  Julian knelt down, and touched the weapon’s exterior.

  “Really?” he asked. “Just one missile?”

  “Yes, but that’s not all,” she said. “Servetus believes this technology can be mass produced. With our resources, and the Alliance’s aid, it can be done.”

  Chapter 56

  Back in the mainframe room, the cracked, but still functioning display showed the documents to Julian. With a swipe of the hand, he passed through them, each one a public report pulled from Earth’s own cyber network.

  The data was new, and downloaded hours ago during that brief moment Arendi had punctured the surrounding interference. Julian glanced at the headlines, but he was far more interested in a seemingly inconsequential detail. It was the date attached to each article, the year ancient.

  “Then it’s confirmed,” he said. “The distortion. It’s really there.”

  August 7, 2801. This was the date that persisted through most of the documents. It was also supposedly the correct time on the planet. Only that it wasn’t.

  Outside the Earth, over 2,000 years had elapsed, the galactic eras rolling from one to the next. But somehow, the date had barely changed from within the Endervar shield, the time flow locked into a near stasis.

  The pace was almost glacially slow. So slow that, to the people on Earth, only about 19 months had passed since the enemy’s initial invasion.

  “It must have something to do with the shield,” Julian said. “Or maybe the gateway itself.”

  CORRECT. YOUR PRESENCE ALSO CONFIRMS THAT THE DISTORTION EXISTS.

  The A.I.’s voice spoke from above, as Julian checked the time on his own comm-band. The device showed a very different, and almost future date, one that corresponded with the Alliance, and the rest of the free galaxy.

  He glanced back at the headlines displayed, and saw that the unified government of Earth had also become aware of the distortion. The so-called “temporal effect,” albeit still a mystery, had fractured the time flow across the different continents.

  THE LATEST DATA INDICATES THAT THE DISTORTION IS DIRECTLY TIED TO THE GATEWAY.

  “It’s the proximity,” explained Arendi. “The further away from the gateway, the slower time moves.”

  “But as for us?” Julian asked. “You mentioned something. That it has the opposite effect.”

  “Yes. Here in the void, at our present position, time is accelerated,” she said. “About five times the normal rate of the universe.”

  Julian then swiped his hand in front of the cracked display screen. The next document appeared, the article published with a detailed photo of the enemy gateway, but taken from below on the surface. It showed an alien tempest in the sky, the breach in reality fueling the surrounding pool of energy.

  “The Endervars,” Julian muttered. “They can even warp time.”

  He walked away from the display screen, flexing his right hand. It opened and closed, before he stopped it, and shook his fingers free.

  “The temporal effect.” Julian said. “What does any of it mean?”

  Hearing the question, Arendi looked up at the fusion chamber in the center of the room.

  “The distortion may not be deliberate,” she said. “It may simply be a consequence of their origin.”

  The mystery of the Endervars, it was an enigma Arendi’s creator, Servetus, had tried to penetrate and answer. Throughout all the millennia, the machine had been carefully scanning for the clues. Perhaps the most telling was the temporal effect, and the other properties exhibited by the alien matter. The way the enemy technology seemed to bend the physical laws. To the novice, it would have appeared bizarre, and incomprehensible. But Servetus had studied the phenomena, and formulated the simulations. Assuming that the A.I.’s understanding of quantum laws was accurate, a correlation had begun to emerge.

  “So you think they’re from another universe?” Julian asked.

  IT IS A POSSIBILITY. HOWEVER, THERE IS A GREATER LIKELIHOOD THAT THE INVADERS COME FROM THE EDGE OF OUR UNIVERSE, WHERE TIME AND SPACE IS ALTERED.

  “Altered?”

  “Yes,” Arendi said. “We once thought that perhaps the invaders had come from a parallel universe. But then Servetus began noticing the patterns.”

  The A.I. had done more than that. Within its own virtual database, it had been piecing together the clues gleaned from the observed data. The end result was a simulation that tried to envision the reality from which the Endervars had come from. It was only a partial map, and much of it was still speculative. But Servetus had been quick to realize it matched with another set of theoretical concepts lodged in its databanks.

  On the cracked screen, the A.I. displayed the simulation’s overall framework, but then overlaid it against existing research from Earth’s scientific community.

  It was a near match, the observed data almost synching with the proposed conditions that might exist on the outer edge of known reality.

  “That’s over 13 billion light-years away,” Julian said. “In a region called ‘exiled space.’”

  CORRECT. THE PROPERTIES EXHIBITED FROM THE INVADERS ALIGN WITH SELECT THEORETICAL CONCEPTS ON THE FORMATION OF THE UNIVERSE.

  “But the temporal effect,” Arendi explained. “It likely comes from their part of the universe.”

  “It’s as if the two realities are almost colliding,” Julian added, having seen some of the data. “But still... In my mind... That’s the key, isn’t it?”

  He looked down at his hand again, and felt the mysterious influence tingle over his skin.

  “I explained to Servetus what you saw,” Arendi said. “The visions. The collapse of the universe.”

  “I know. It doesn’t make much sense. But it wasn’t an end. It was something else...”

  REPORTS OF THE VISIONS ARE GROWING, AND MATCH WITH THE ACCOUNT YOU GAVE. IN MOST CASES, THE EFFECT IS HARMLESS.

  “But in the long term?” he asked. “Are they trying to change us?”

  IT IS CURRENTLY UNKNOWN. MORE DATA NEEDS TO BE COLLECTED. THE CURRENT ANALYSES HAVE FOUND NO ENTRY THAT CAN EFFECTIVELY CROSS THROUGH THE ENEMY GATEWAY AND INTO EXILED SPACE.

  Julian walked closer to the damaged display. It was another glimpse at the enemy, albeit pulled together from the ancient A.I.

  Servetus had been diligent as ever, bringing some clarity to the mystery of the enemy. But even so, it was ill-equipped to delve any further, both exiled space and the human mind, the two areas from which it could not approach.

  “The collapse of the universe... Why would they want that? It’s such a strange message.”

  AS YOU MENTIONED, PERHAPS IT IS NOT AN END.

  Servetus then displayed the next simulation. Although it had been created a day ago, it was grounded in cosmology and quantum mechanics, the resulting theory just one possibility among the many.

  What Julian saw echoed his vision. The known universe was on display, but shrinking, eventually coalescing into one point. Then in an explosion, it bloomed again, expanding out, and restoring the natural order once more. Watching the sight, Julian instinctively opened his hand, only to close it, and repeat the motion.

  THE ELION WILL REMAIN HERE IN THE GATEWAY, ANALYZING THE NEW VARIABLES AND PREPARING FOR THE EVENTUAL LIBERATION OF EARTH.

  BUT AS FOR YOU CAPTAIN NVERSON, IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT YOU CONTINUE WITH YOUR MISSION.

  A second later, and Julian heard the alert from his communication band. It was from Arendi.

  “I have just sent you a message composed by Servetus,” she said. “It is meant for the Alliance.”

  YOU MUST STOP THE OURYAN COLLAPSER. OTHERWISE, BILLIONS OF LIVES WILL BE NEEDLESSLY LOST. BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, IT WILL LIKELY DO NOTHING TO HALT THE ENEMY’S ADVANCE. THE FULL SCALE OF THEIR ACTIVITIES HAS YET TO BE UNDERSTOOD.

  “In all likelihood, they’re expanding across not just our galaxy, but the universe, operating on a macro level beyond what was previously imagined,” Arendi said. “The war will not stop with just
one galaxy. Instead, we must learn to turn their technology against them. While we still can.”

  FOR NOW, THE ELION REMAINS UNDETECTED. IT IS A WEAKNESS WE MUST CONTINUE TO EXPLOIT. A WEAKNESS THAT MAY LEAD TO THE ENEMY’S UNDOING.

  He thought back to the missile casings in the Elion’s hanger bay, and then the other blueprints he had seen. All of them were technologies that could fight the enemy.

  “We have to convince the Alliance,” Arendi added. “They need to know that there’s another way.”

  “Agreed,” Julian said. “I’ll prep the ship for takeoff.”

  But that wasn’t all. Servetus had one other important request.

  The door to the mainframe room opened, the large control bot at the entrance. It lumbered forth, carrying the cargo box between its two pincered hands.

  “We have another message we’d like to send,” Arendi said. “This one for Earth.”

  Chapter 57

  It went against everything she once wanted to believe, the act pointless and ultimately superficial. Machines had no need for such things, the appearance just a facade. It should have been a waste of resources, a waste of time, both her logic and Servetus pointing out the inconsistency.

  But Arendi didn’t care anymore. She let the sentiment take over, as she stood in the Elion’s lab room, the material on a medical tray at her side.

  At first, it was painful to do it. To even look at the damage brought out the shame. But as that first moment passed, she went on and made the careful repairs. Arendi was determined, holding the synthesized skin in her gloved hands.

  The physical replica stood only a few inches away. “Miya” she had called it, the android a twin vessel that had once housed her former consciousness. Unfortunately, it had not been a peaceful existence, the damage evident in both body and face.