All set? Xander asked.
Ready, Captain, Vax replied.
Alara held her mental breath as they eased downward toward the force field. Although they were certainly much stronger now, and the attack through the barrier would be a two-pronged strike, she couldn’t even begin to estimate if they would get through—or be knocked back into their bodies like last time.
She had no idea if their speed or shape or timing would make one bit of difference between success and failure. It was possible they should be spinning or flattening their auras or sharpening them. The entire procedure violated every scientific premise. Instead of testing, instead of figuring out exactly what they needed to do, they were literally going to throw themselves at the force shield and pray it worked.
Talk about crazy notions—this one had to be the riskiest experiment she’d ever taken part in. Yet there was no time for careful research. No time to bring in experts—as if there were any. They simply had to go with what they thought best.
Stop fidgeting, Xander ordered.
Huh?
You’re squirming.
How can I squirm when I don’t have a body? she countered.
Ah . . . that’s better.
But I didn’t . . . Had he felt her doubts? She didn’t know. But as they descended through rock, then flowing red-hot magma, toward the planet’s core, she tensed. Striking that barrier hadn’t been pleasant. This time they were traveling faster, hurtling at speeds that blurred her surroundings.
Vax and Cyn had no trouble keeping pace. Their dazzling silver/green brilliance rocketed beside them, the only constant in the ever-changing planetary core. As they closed in on the invisible barrier, Alara tried not to tense.
Almost there. Xander’s excitement reverberated through her, and she realized he was enjoying himself.
A moment later . . . they crashed through.
THE COLLISION separated Alara from Xander, and their tight bond ceased to be, as did Vax and Cyn’s. Xander returned to his normal astrally extended self and spared no more than a passing thought about the split. Instead, he adjusted to the stunning sight within Saj’s centermost core.
It wasn’t the streaming magma that drew his attention but the astral being awaiting him with a gratified expression.
Clarie?
The alien and his pet, Delo, their auras so subtle that Xander had to search for a fuzzy edge to their silhouettes, floated calmly as if they’d been awaiting their arrival. So sharp was Clarie’s image that Xander would have thought him real if it had been possible for a solid being to project to Saj’s core.
But what was he doing here?
Clarie’s head swiveled, and his antennae bent back and forth with excitement. Finally. You have progressed to the next level of evolution.
The next level of evolution? I don’t understand. Xander stared at the little alien, disappointment washing through him. He’d expected to find the Perceptive Ones, not Clarie.
You have succeeded. Clarie spoke as if reading Xander’s mind. You have found what you sought. Me.
Alara gasped. That’s why your DNA is so complex and why I couldn’t read Delo. You are both Perceptive Ones?
Yes. Clarie grinned.
Delo glowed bright orange. Even now they do not understand. They are not ready.
Xander couldn’t quite take in all the implications. Clarie and Delo were Perceptive Ones? But why did you make us come—
Here? Clarie finished his thought for him. I already explained. I had to ensure you would evolve.
You mean leave our bodies? Alara asked.
Exactly. Clarie beamed at her as if she were his brightest pupil.
Xander might not have been as quick, but he had a mission to accomplish. Can you give us the DNA to—
Cure the virus? You can now do that by yourselves.
We can? Xander asked.
We can! Alara’s mental thought was a shout of triumph. In the astral state, when we linked, I saw plant DNA on a micro level that exposes the virus. Nano-particles too tiny for our most sensitive instruments to find. Now that I can see what’s wrong, a vaccine can be made.
Finally, Clarie glowed. My work has accomplished your evolution. We seeded the galaxy with DNA. We left you suits to encourage the development of your psi powers. We created the Challenge so your worlds would unite, and we protected you with the Sentinels to give you time to form a strong union and evolve enough to succeed at the coming task.
The coming task? Xander’s mission was over. If Alara had a cure for the virus they could go home.
Delo glowed a dark orange. Time and again they have proved unworthy.
They got here, didn’t they? Clarie countered.
Only because you manipulated the universe—
So?
I have to admit I didn’t expect them to make it this far—but they simply are not up to the task before them.
What task? Xander didn’t like the situation. He didn’t understand the antagonism between the two Perceptive Ones. He most certainly wasn’t pleased that the two beings seemed to be playing some kind of ego game when the Federation’s billions were dying. Did you create this virus to force us to evolve?
Clarie’s head swiveled back to meet him. The Zin have opened a wormhole into Federation space. It was the Zin’s creations, tiny nanomachines, that brought the virus through the wormhole.
Stars. The Zin were the Perceptive Ones’ ancient enemy, and the Sentinels, giant machines built by the Perceptive Ones, stood guard on the galaxy’s edge, preventing invasion. But obviously the Zin had found a way to send the virus of nano particles a wormhole, another way to penetrate the galaxy, and to kill every living thing inside the Federation.
The virus was no accident. The Zin had attacked, and the Federation hadn’t even known they were in a battle.
Since the Sentinels stood guard, the Zin had found another way to hurt them. At least that’s what Xander thought Clarie had said.
The Zin sent the virus through a wormhole?
Yes.
But Alara has a cure?
Yes.
So why didn’t you simply give the cure to us? Why let so many beings die?
You had to evolve.
So you orchestrated our journey to make us evolve?
Delo glowed hot orange. Ah, really. You spell it out for it, and then when it finally understands, it’s actually proud of itself. They are too stupid to exist. Let them die now. It would be kinder than to give them false hope.
When a good parent teaches a child to walk, he must sometimes allow them to fall down. Only by failure and success does a child learn balance. Only through living can a being evolve.
This is futile. Delo’s aggravation grew. It’s too late.
It’s too late to cure the virus? Xander asked, confused. Alara had said she could make a vaccine. Or had the virus already spread too far? Is there a point where the cellular degeneration cannot be healed?
Delo’s sarcasm slapped him. Curing the virus will do you no good. The Zin’s machines will create another and another and send them through the wormhole until you are all dead.
The wormhole must be closed, Xander said.
It’s too late, Delo shouted, the words an accusation reverberating in Xander’s head like a curse.
What do you mean?
You have failed. Even as we speak, a multitude of new viruses are invading the galaxy.
Is that true? Xander demanded, his thoughts burning with fury that they had come so far, but not far enough.
Clarie’s astral shoulders shrugged. I have a solution. Wormholes cause time distortions. So that you can close the wormhole, I will send you back in time.
20
ALARA’S MIND WAS spinning with Clarie’s statements and the ramific
ations when she found herself back in her body—on the bridge of the Verazen. Cyn was at her engineering station, and ship’s power seemed fully restored. Vax was at the con.
Xander’s jaw dropped, and she followed his stare to the navigation officer. “Shannon?”
“What happened?” Shannon frowned at him. “The last thing I remember was . . . I must have been out of my head with a fever because . . . I thought . . . I . . . died.”
“You were very sick.” Xander spoke calmly, as if they hadn’t just witnessed a marvel. “How do you feel now?”
“Well. But I’m . . . missing time.” Shannon’s brow furrowed, and then she grinned. “I can’t recall everything.”
Stars! Shannon was alive. But now she was floating at her station with a silly smile on her face as if she realized she’d been given a second chance.
By the stars. Had they all really gone to Lapau and Saj, or had they had a joint hallucination?
Had Clarie really brought them back in time and across half the Milky Way Galaxy to close a wormhole in one stunning display of power that had Alara so unbalanced she had to grab a console for support? She didn’t know whether or not to believe her eyes.
They’d buried Shannon . . . but she was alive. Amazing.
“Captain.” Ranth, the computer, sounded almost as puzzled as Alara felt. “I’ve noted certain spatial irregularities. While I can’t account for the course correction, we are headed for Earth.”
“Remain on course,” said Xander. He had recovered much faster than Alara. She doubted she could yet speak.
Stunned, she couldn’t wrap her mind around the puzzles. Had they ever left the ship or not? What in Dregan hell was the date? And if they’d gone back in time as Clarie had stated—why were all her memories intact? Why did she recall her cells adapting to Xander, but now knew that they were no longer connected in that way? Her physiology had gone backward, but her mind recalled every detail of the cell regeneration and the ensuing adaptation—which no longer existed. Nothing made sense.
But then when she considered that she’d left her body, astrally altered her DNA and extended to the core of a planet, and met a Perceptive One who wanted them to close a wormhole to prevent the Zin from sending more viruses into the Federation, even to herself, she sounded like a lunatic.
When she noted a young Rystani male, standing naked and bleeding on the bridge, she merely blinked. Her mind couldn’t wrap around one more bizarre puzzle.
Xander approached the boy, his tone calm. “Kirek. Are you all right?”
“How did I get here?” Kirek demanded, clearly confused.
“You might want to cover your nudity,” Xander suggested, as if a naked and bleeding Rystani appeared on the bridge every day and needed reminding of proper attire.
“I’ve been naked so long . . .” Kirek adjusted his suit. “How did I get here?” he repeated.
“The Perceptive Ones sent us back in time to close a wormhole,” Xander explained, as if time travel were a common occurrence.
Maybe Xander’s practical approach was the way to go. She didn’t need to understand hyperspace to fly through it. She didn’t need to comprehend how her flitter flew to drive it. If she stopped trying to figure out the impossible and simply accepted it, maybe her world wouldn’t feel so shaky.
“I know all about the wormhole,” Kirek muttered. “That’s why the Endekians invaded Rystan. They needed the glow stones to close the Zin’s wormhole.”
“Did the Endekians succeed?” Xander asked.
Leave it to Xander to hone in on the most important point. Alara had never been more proud of him than she was right then. They’d all been through a major upheaval. Kirek looked like he’d been to Dregan hell and back. Shannon had even returned from the dead. But Xander was carrying on his command, as if saving the galaxy were his sole mission—and maybe it was. The Perceptive Ones had chosen him for their own reasons, but she believed he was the best man for the job.
Xander was holding his disturbed crew together by sheer determination. Clearly he intended to carry on his mission in any time, against any enemy, and under impossible odds. He wasn’t torn by doubts about what had just occurred. He accepted what was. And he forged onward.
Kirek faced his captain, apparently not the least embarrassed by his lapse in attire. If he’d been Drik’s hostage, he wouldn’t have been allowed to cover his nudity on Endeki and likely would have become accustomed to walking around naked—as well as being used by women. Alara wondered what the long-term side effects would do to him and hoped he’d recover swiftly from his ordeal.
Kirek spoke quickly and clearly, stoic about his wounds. “Many years ago the Zin opened a wormhole from their galaxy to Endeki. The wormhole was tiny, not large enough to pass anything through. But Endekians were convinced their survival depended upon closing the connection between the two galaxies. After much experimentation, the Endekians learned that the explosion of Rystani glow stones would disrupt the wormhole and close it.”
“But the Zin opened another wormhole,” Xander guessed.
“Correct, Captain. Each wormhole was a bit larger. More stable. Desperate for glow stones, the Endekians invaded Rystan, keeping their need for the glow stones a secret.”
“Why?” Xander asked.
“They feared the Zin would return and attack through the wormhole, and they wanted to hoard all the glow stones for their own use to protect their own world. They kept them stored on many different ships in their fleet—so in case the Zin opened a wormhole in space near Endeki, they’d have ammunition to close it.”
Xander nodded. “So now we finally know why Endeki invaded Rystan.”
Kirek held his gaze. “Since the Endekians kept closing the wormholes, the Zin moved the wormhole to Earth and sent through the virus. I’m attempting to work out a formula to close it down for good. But as the wormhole diameter increases exponentially, the glow stones grow unstable.”
“Keep working on it,” Xander ordered.
“Speaking of glow stones,” Ranth interrupted, “the Verazen’s cargo hold is full of them, and I can’t find an inventory in my memory banks.”
“Clarie’s been busy,” Alara muttered.
Shannon sighed. “I still don’t understand why our suits didn’t filter out the virus.”
“The Zin built the virus out of microscopic nanomachines, of a size so miniscule our equipment couldn’t detect them. But now that we know that the infection is inorganic and miniscule, we can easily make a vaccine,” Alara filled her in.
She moved to a console and sent the information to Mystique where it would be shared with the entire Federation, including the Lapautee and the Saj. She also instructed Ranth to manufacture the cure for the crew.
“Who’s Clarie?” Kirek asked.
“One of the Perceptive Ones.” Vax frowned at the bleeding stripes across Kirek’s neck. “How did you learn—”
“I did a little exploring.”
“And got caught?”
“Twice.” Kirek winced.
“Why didn’t you use your suit’s shields to protect you?”
“On Endeki, for a hostage to use his suit to protect himself from a master is not allowed. Disobedience means death.” Kirek bit his bottom lip. “Sore flesh is the least of my worries.”
“What else is wrong?” Xander hovered protectively over Kirek.
Alara finished sending out the cure for the virus and turned her attention to Kirek. While she suspected a lot had gone wrong for him while he’d been a hostage, his tone indicated a more serious problem.
“Can we contact Clarie?” Kirek asked.
“Why?”
“I could use help with the formulas on wormhole theory. I should know how to find the wormhole on Earth and close it . . . but . . . the calculations are incomplete.”
> “Maybe my people,” Alara spoke up for the first time, “can help. If we closed one wormhole, we should—”
“The Endekian wormhole was tiny and stable. The Zin/Terran wormhole is moving. Opening and closing rapidly. If I miscalculate, I could destroy Earth.”
Shannon gasped.
Alara placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Kirek’s smart. He’ll find a way. But I’m not sure that even if Clarie were here that he’d help us.”
“Why not?” Shannon demanded.
Xander spoke thoughtfully, as if choosing his words with care. “Clarie implied that the Perceptive Ones see us as children. They’ll only guide. The rest is up to us.”
“You’ll figure out the formula,” Vax spoke encouragingly.
Kirek’s eyes turned inward. “I have a lot of calculations to do before we reach Earth.”
“Captain,” Shannon›s gaze flew over her console, “the Endekian fleet commander is demanding we stop. He claims we have stolen cargo on board.”
XANDER CAUGHT UP with Alara in her lab several harrowing hours later. He’d refused to stop the ship’s progress and—thanks to several well-placed bribes, plus Tessa and Kahn’s pull with the Federation political council after sharing the cure for the virus—the Endeki fleet had backed down in their demands. Kahn had just filled him in on details, and Xander had come to share the good news with Alara.
He found her in her laboratory, fussing over her experiments. When he entered, she looked up with a pleased expression. “I expected everything to be dead, but with the time travel, I can take up where I left off.”
“Good.”
Alara seemed a bit preoccupied and was avoiding his gaze. But perhaps she was simply so happy to be back in familiar surroundings that she wasn’t paying him the special attention he had become accustomed to. During their time on Lapau and Saj, ever since her cells’ adaptation to him, they’d seemed close and very aware of each other. He’d often caught her gaze following his as she’d watched for his reactions. They’d often communicated with a silent glance, a direct look, but now that they’d returned to the ship, she seemed more distant.
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