“No, thanks. I’m sorry, but that sounds juvenile.”
“It would be effective. Have you ever seen a Rystani warrior go into protect-his-woman mode?” Shannon grinned. “It’s enough to make any woman’s heart leap into overdrive. Those magnificent muscles tense. Testosterone pumps the ego. It’s a beautiful sight to behold.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then what do you plan to do?”
“There’s nothing I can do. He’ll make up his mind when he’s ready. Until then . . . I’ll wait.”
FOR KIREK, THE days on the ship passed in a blur as he worked feverishly on his wormhole calculations. During breaks, he’d sent holovid messages back to his parents on Mystique to reassure them he was all right, but he’d spent the majority of the time running equations through Ranth, trying to figure out exactly what needed to be done to blow up a wormhole. The balance of forces had to be exact. A miscalculation could rip Earth apart. Then there was the problem of time. Wormholes tended to distort time in ways both nebulous and complex.
“Ranth.” Kirek rotated his tense shoulders in an effort to release tension. “Run the last simulation again, but change the vector to three and a half meters.”
The holosimulation depicted a twisted cone that touched Earth’s middle continent at the equator. After days spent configuring where to place the glow stones for best effect, Kirek knew he could blow up the wormhole—however, he didn’t want to blow up the planet in the process.
“Perhaps if we explode the glow stones in a controlled chain reaction, instead of all at once, we won’t have to decimate the planet,” he suggested to the computer.
“I’ll make the adjustments and run another simulation,” Ranth said.
His gut in knots, Kirek watched the explosion begin; the wormhole bulged, twisted, and exploded, but once again, Earth split into a million fragments. He slammed a fist onto the console, his frustration mounting. He had to find a way to accomplish the task without sacrificing billions of innocent lives, and he racked his brain for answers.
“We need to turn the explosion in on itself—like those buildings that fall in on themselves during demolition.”
“Why does there have to be a way? Because you—”
“Because I won’t be responsible for the deaths of billions of Terrans. Even if an empty world nearby would hold them all, there’s no time to evacuate.”
Ranth spoke as if the problem didn’t involve the lives of everyone on Earth. “Just because you want to save them doesn’t mean that it’s possible. You’ve exhausted every viable physical combination of resources and—”
“That’s it.” Kirek excitedly adjusted his psi to move him into position, until he was hovering over the holosimulation.
“What?”
“Physical measures aren’t enough. But if we use psi forces to hold the glow stones within the wormhole—we might force the explosion to curl in on itself.”
“An interesting theory, but to employ your psi, you’d have to be inside or so close to the wormhole that when it blew, it would take you with it. For safety, you’d have to maintain a distance of thousands of miles from the explosion. Your psi won’t reach that far.”
“I don’t see another viable option.” Kirek leaned forward, knowing sacrificing a few people might be the right plan to save Earth. Yet even as he spoke to Ranth, he sought and failed to see other alternatives. “Run another simulation to see if our combined psi will strengthen the shielding enough to succeed.”
“Psi is not a force I can calculate. There are too many variables. How does one measure willpower?”
“But it’s possible?”
“Anything’s possible.”
“Ranth, computers aren’t supposed to hedge their answers. What’s your best guess?”
“I don’t guess. I estimate.”
“Your best estimate is . . . ?”
“That it might work.”
Kirek hit the com switch. “Captain, I have a plan.”
Several minutes later Xander joined Kirek in his quarters, and he explained what he thought might work. “There are no guarantees that we can save Earth when we close the wormhole, but I’d like to try.”
“Agreed.” Xander studied the simulation. “Ranth, if we astrally extended inside the wormhole to steady the forces, would that increase our chance of success?”
“By a factor of four.”
Kirek slapped his forehead. For a genius, he sometimes missed the obvious. While he hadn’t astrally extended, he’d heard about the others’ experiences on Saj. But he’d failed to factor their new abilities into his equations, proving once again Xander and Dora’s faith in him might be misplaced.
Kirek frowned at Xander as he mulled over the idea. “Captain, right now you, Vax, Cyn, and Alara can project yourselves into the wormhole. If you don’t get out before the wormhole implodes, your minds will be trapped in another galaxy while your bodies remain in this one.”
“We plan to leave right before the explosion. Astral extension is as quick as thought. Although the farther we are from our bodies, the longer we will take to return. I have no idea what would happen if we were blown into another galaxy—I’d rather avoid that scenario.”
“The problem will be having all of you release the forces at the exact same nanosecond. If the timing isn’t right, the last person out will be the one sucked away.”
“Understood. We can link into two entities as we did before to make the extraction easier.”
“I don’t think that will work. One of you needs to hold steady in each quadrant—and that’s already spreading yourselves too thin.”
Xander clapped Kirek on the shoulder as if he’d found a perfect solution, instead of suggesting a plan that would likely get them all killed. “Good work. You’ve given us and Earth a chance.”
“Captain, five people inside the wormhole would double our chances of success.”
“But only four of us know how to astral-extend.”
“Then I suggest you teach me how to leave my body before we reach our final destination.” Kirek knew Xander wouldn’t like his request. The captain still considered him a boy. However, he’d left any remnants of his childhood behind on Endeki.
“I promised your parents I’d keep you safe.” Xander tried to protect him as Kirek had known he would.
But Kirek’s psi was stronger than everyone else’s, and most people thought it due to his birth in hyperspace. However, Kirek had joined a healing circle with his mind before he’d been born. Even then his psi had been extraordinarily strong, and from all the talk by those who’d met Clarie, Kirek suspected the Perceptive Ones had configured his birth pattern and helped him to evolve.
The idea disturbed him and excited him. Sometimes he felt this burning urge to try new things. Yet he also feared a change that would set him apart from his family and people. Convinced that he had a lifetime to explore new possibilities, he’d never been in any particular hurry to test his skills. But pitting himself against a wormhole seemed . . . awesome . . . and disturbing . . . not to mention insane.
However, it was the only option that appeared to have any chance of success. So they would take it. And Xander must accept his help.
He spoke lovingly of his parents. “Miri and Etru would not want me to seek safety when I might be the difference between Earth’s continued existence and the planet’s turning into an asteroid belt.”
Ranth interrupted. “Captain, Kirek has always been modest. But his psi is more powerful than any other being in the Federation. It would be foolish not to accept what will be a significant contribution.”
Although Kirek appreciated his gifts, contrarily, he didn’t always like being different. Children his own age had always thought him weird. Adults hadn’t accepted him easily—all too aware of his differences. Although
he’d done his best to hide his forceful psi, the universe seemed to conspire against him. Now, in light of what he’d recently learned about the Perceptive Ones, he wondered if he had free will, or, instead, he was their tool—and if so, would they ever free him to live his own life.
Xander’s eyes pierced Kirek, but he refused to show the swirling emotions that made him conflicted about his skills. Finally, Xander nodded. “I will teach you to leave your body. If you can learn, I will gladly accept your help.”
ONLY KIREK HAS any understanding of the forces they are trying to stop. Delo glowed brightly. The others have no comprehension of—
Oh, stop your whining, Clarie muttered. Is it necessary for a butterfly to understand aerodynamics to fly? Is it necessary for a salmon to know why it swims upstream to spawn?
Don’t you ever tire of manipulating them into doing what must be done?
I tire of your negativity. They have come a long way in a short time. The mental leap to using psi to stabilize the explosions was brilliant and it came from Kirek, who has yet to comprehend all he is capable of. But Xander came up with the idea to astrally extend to deploy their psi.
Likely your choice pupils are going to blow themselves up.
Would you applaud?
Quite so. I’m ready for the next act.
So you welcome the invasion of the machines? You would have us give up to the Zin?
Why waste effort holding on to a galaxy we no longer need?
Because we can. Because we seeded the Milky Way with life, and they may evolve enough to join us one day. I for one would like some new company. Your arguments grow tiresome.
Did you just insult me?
Take my comments as you wish. The young one is genius material, and when the time comes, he will lead the others forward.
Even if they close the wormhole, the Zin will try again.
Then we will stop them again. Now go away. I have work to do.
ALARA KNEW XANDER had been busy teaching Kirek how to astral-extend, coordinating the efforts on Earth so their arrival would go smoothly, as well as seeing to it that Federation forces kept the Endekian war fleet from pursuing them to steal back the glow stones. So when Xander finally sought her out, she didn’t expect him to have come to a conclusion about their relationship.
When he entered the lab where she’d been eating, sleeping, and working, he still walked with a Rystani swagger. He still kept his head high and his shoulders back, but one look into his eyes told her he was under enormous pressure, and her heart went out to him. She had no right to press him on personal issues while so much was at stake.
“Hi.” Her greeting sounded lame, even to her own ears, and she firmly shut her mouth. But she’d missed the sight of him and eagerly drank in his every feature from his thick black hair that she longed to thread through her fingers to his muscular calves encased in soft boots.
“We have a plan to blow up the wormhole.” He came straight to the point, and it took her a moment to switch from the personal to business.
“You need my help?” she guessed. From the worry on his face, it didn’t take a mind reader to suspect that he didn’t like the fact that he needed her. Not a good sign for their personal future.
Put it on hold, she thought. From the look on Xander’s face, they might not have a future.
“I’m hoping you’ll volunteer.”
It wasn’t like Xander not to come straight to the point, and her tension heightened. “What do you need?”
“Kirek’s plan requires us to astral-extend into the wormhole and use our psi to hold the contours steady until the implosion. If we don’t, Earth and its inhabitants will be ripped apart.”
He was asking her to help save the people who had killed her parents. Yet Shannon had taught her Earth, like every world, had beings both good and bad. “Of course I’ll help.”
“The chances of success are not good. The major problem is that timing is critical. We have to stay until the very last moment, then you, me, Vax, Cyn, and Kirek must all depart at precisely the same instant. If anyone delays, the forces will suck them into the Zin galaxy. If that happens, even if we survive, we won’t be able to return to our bodies before our hearts stop pumping. So we could be doomed to spend eternity wandering the universe without our bodies. Or without bodies to anchor us, our spirit might die. No one really knows.”
“I understand. I’ll help.”
“You’re certain?” His gaze searched hers, as if he had doubts about her reasons for going along.
“I’m not doing this for you.” She told him the truth. “Or for us. I’m agreeing because it’s right.”
“I know.” He nodded and almost choked on his next words. “I need more time.”
She realized he’d switched the conversation to the personal. His admission stabbed and burned. “If the decision is that difficult, maybe I already have my answer.”
He couldn’t meet her gaze. With a quick nod, he left her and her aching heart alone. He didn’t want her.
He’d rejected her.
A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. A shudder shook her, but she refused to give in. She had her answer. Despite the pain, she was glad she wasn’t tied to a man who couldn’t reciprocate her feelings. Better to know the truth before she risked more than her heart. Her heart would heal, but her pride could not survive the battering it would take if she became trapped like her mother. It might take a century or two, but she would get over him. Somehow . . .
Telling herself they might both die in the imploding wormhole didn’t alleviate the harsh pain of rejection. It didn’t help that knowing if she’d been Rystani, his response would likely have been different. She was . . . what she was.
Perhaps it was her fate to remain tied to her physiology, her fate to continue her research, until she freed Endekian females. Only, she wished she could have continued her work and had Xander, too.
Her sorrow reverberated through her. At the moment, continuing her work wasn’t possible. Instead, she stared out at the stars, her hands clenched into fists, tears streaming down her cheeks, wondering if she cared whether she survived the wormhole.
22
THEY’D SET DOWN in the middle of a desert on a Terran continent called Africa, and the air was dry enough to suck the moisture right out of Alara’s lungs if she hadn’t worn her suit. Even worse, a sandstorm could shred the skin off unprotected flesh. She’d seen no sign of life since the shuttle had set down at the coordinates Kirek had specified.
Kirek had postulated the wormhole would open in the remote area and cause a tremendous sandstorm. In theory, since no one lived here, the Zin could keep open the wormhole and send their deadly viruses through it without detection. The huge windstorms would eventually carry the virus to populated areas on giant wind currents that passed through the tropics and then out to sea where it would spread across the oceans and over every land mass. Even with a planetwide quarantine, solar dust would spread destruction across the galaxy.
If not for the filters and cooling in her suit, Alara wouldn’t have lasted long under Earth’s blistering sun. A dull orange sand that rolled from horizon to horizon under a listless blue sky presented few visual distractions from her thoughts.
Every awkward encounter with Xander had been brief and impersonal and never seemed to get easier. Each time she saw him, she was struck by how much she missed his company. Avoiding him didn’t help because she couldn’t escape her own thoughts and memories. Although she knew she couldn’t change the past, she kept wondering what she could have done differently to have changed the outcome of his decision. Each time, she came to the same conclusion—she would have changed nothing. But that didn’t make the consequences easier to bear.
As the countdown to the wormhole’s appearance began, bots unloaded the precious cargo of glow stones. Kirek carefully me
asured the distance between the stones, positioning them according to his calculations, then rechecked them repeatedly, making certain they would be within the confines of the wormhole once it formed.
Determined to do her part, she returned to the shuttle and flew back to the orbiting Verazen, where the crew would do their best to keep their bodies alive while they projected to the site where the wormhole would appear. Alara supposed she should have asked more questions about the coming event, but not even Kirek could tell them what to expect. So her thoughts kept drifting to Xander. Each time she saw him, his face appeared more haggard, his features more finely drawn—as if he weren’t eating enough.
Perhaps Shannon had been right and that he was suffering over their separation, too. Maybe he did love her—but obviously not enough.
She was almost eager for the wormhole to arrive so she could stop thinking about him and what had gone so wrong. She understood she was mourning the loss of him, much like she had after her mother died. While she couldn’t rush the process, she could use relief—and welcomed it—even in the form of the wormhole, the greatest threat to the Federation since the Sentinels had required reprogramming.
At least she’d had a period of respite from her biology. Due to the timing of their travel backward in time, her cells had been fully regenerated. She estimated she wouldn’t have to deal with Boktai until after they’d dealt with the wormhole.
Finally, the waiting and preliminary planning was done. Xander gathered them together in the Verazen’s cargo bay. As Ranth flew the ship out of harm’s way of the coming explosion, within the shuttle bay Cyn, Vax, Alara, Xander, and Kirek placed their bodies in the same positions they would hold on the planet. Kirek reclined in the middle. The others took their places around him and began the meditation process that led to astral extension.
Alara had a little trouble forcing her muscles to relax, but finally floated free of her body and joined the others. Within moments they soared out of the shuttle bay and left the ship in orbit behind. Astrally extended, they flew through the atmosphere and down to the desert to take up their positions, floating a mere body length above the sand. Apparently, the lower they hovered, the more grid stability they could create.
The Ultimatum Page 29