The Captain asked the other three men to join him in pushing the two body piles out the big opening. He was able to see a lot of stars out there, but not Mother, nor any of the Krall ships.
The four of them pushed the larger group of bodies towards the opening. They had no weight, but their mass resisted the movement, and Mirikami realized they should have tied the bodies together, or wrapped them in the tarps rather than cover them. They didn’t all move as one, and were spreading out from under the tarp as they drifted. At least they were going out. Next they grabbed the slowly drifting bins, and pushed them gently out as well, trying not to let their vile contents spread. Finally, the smaller collection of bodies was pushed out to join the first.
The dead men and women continued to drift away from the ship, spreading apart from one another. The Captain didn’t know how the Krall expected to gather them into a Jump Hole, even if that ridiculously small device had the ability to create one. He saw no heavy power lines for it to use if they were going to use the ship’s fusion power plant.
Staring at the drifting remains, he despised the feeling that they had just thrown the dead out like trash, with no ceremony or any other service to show respect, to allow time for their friends and kin to grieve and say goodbye.
Mirikami was agnostic, but not in the manner of most that doubted the existence of God. He felt at core that he was an atheist, but one that had doubts that there could ever be proof that God did not exist. However, some of those that had died here belonged to various faiths, even though an appreciable number of the scientists did not believe in any deity. Faith or not, there should be some words spoken on behalf of those that had died.
He mentioned this to the four men that could hear him, asking if any of them wished to speak a few word. He would do it himself if they declined. The gesture of decency was rendered moot when they were roughly shoved aside by the two Krall warriors carrying their device.
Three of the men, Mirikami included, lost contact with the deck, and but for the safety lines, would have drifted out of the bay. They quickly pressed the tether button and reeled themselves to the bulkhead attachment points, and stepped farther back into the hold.
The two warriors moved the device they had brought with them right to the edge of the deck. Their feet seemed to have a firm grip, though Mirikami couldn’t see an electromagnet in the translucent feet of the body suits. The K’Tal moved to stand next to the device, which also seemed firmly stuck to the deck now.
He held a six-inch oval object in his hands, with multi colored lights or buttons. He did something by tapping talon tips, and the dish on the pedestal suddenly tilted and pointed straight out into space from the center of the opening.
In a matter of several seconds, the three small cone projections on the dish edges began glowing dim yellow. Mirikami had often seen that shade of amber on N wave projectors on hulls of ships. It was a byproduct of a Trap field, but that low glow only started when a closed field had caught a passing low energy tachyon. The brighter the glow, the more energetic the otherworldly particle was.
This was a soft glow, so it didn’t seem to be enough to generate a Jump Hole, but the fact that it had started to glow so soon was startling. It usually took five or ten minutes to catch even a weak tachyon, and this seemed to have trapped one quickly, assuming the glow was due to that. He couldn’t guess what in the pedestal was generating the energy for an N wave powerful enough Trap a tachyon.
If they had already caught one, then the energy of that tachyon could be used in a bootstrap manner to increase the energy fed to the projectors, in an effort to deflect and catch a much more energetic passing tac for the next increase in energy.
He guessed only time would tell. However, suddenly the cones blazed with a brighter yellow glow that made him squint. It seemed impossible, but had they just caught a higher energy tac in only a few minutes?
As he thought this, he could see the drifting corpses, tarps, and bins, all start slowly moving towards an area directly in front of the dish, perhaps a couple of thousand feet out. This wasn’t how a Jump Hole normally worked, which formed a spherical shell around the ship generating the fields. Here this dish was behaving as if there were a strong gravitational field generated at a focal point in front of the three apparent field projectors.
The entire cluster of debris and bodies was now clearly drifting towards the invisible gravitational focal point. In a matter of several minutes, they had coalesced to form a lumpy spherical mass about ten or fifteen feet in diameter, with a few bits of plastic bins or bones jutting out in some places. The sphere was physically that small if his estimate of roughly two thousand feet out was accurate. However, the gravity was very far from being powerful enough to form a Jump Hole.
Telour told the four men to turn their backs, as all four Krall suddenly faced into the bay. The four humans quickly turned around. Mirikami looked at the other seven men, and made a fast rotating motion with a hand and down pointing finger, urging them to turn away, hoping they would understand. He also crossed an arm over his faceplate, squeezing his eyes shut.
Within a few seconds of turning around, Mirikami, simultaneously experienced an intense dazzling flash through his eyelids, and a brief jerk felt over his entire body. He also felt a bump through his feet, magnetically attached to the deck, demonstrating that the entire ship had also twitched.
It was fortunate that Gravity was about ten to the fortieth times weaker than the electromagnetic force; else, they would probably never have known what hit them. Clearly, the pulse was the result of an intense gravitational wave, generated by a collapsing Jump Hole right outside the hold. The energy had propagated and passed through them, the ship, and the fabric of local space-time itself.
Telour told them to activate the hold’s gravity, but to leave the cargo door open. When the humans looked out, all traces of the ball of human bodies and plastic bins was gone. Of the eight hundred ninety-nine souls that had been Mirikami’s responsibility to lead, serve, and protect fifty-six were gone. It might be difficult to keep all 843 others alive until they reached their mystery destination.
12. Jump to Koban
Within a few minutes, a slender nosed craft appeared from around the left edge of the bay door. Size and distance was hard to judge, but perhaps out by several thousand feet if it were small enough to fit into this hold, the ship’s largest. As it turned, angling towards them, it was clearly making its way to the cargo Bay, nose first. The slender looking shuttle revealed it was considerably wider than it was thick, and seemed like it was going to be a close fit.
Mirikami urged his men to move from the back bulkhead over to the side, as far as possible. The two Krall warriors moved the Jump Hole device out of the way, and positioned themselves on the same side, to watch the eleven humans.
The craft slid smoothly and deftly into the hold, with almost perfect clearance on all sides of the opening. It then came to a quick stop a mere few feet from the rear bulkhead, clearing the hatch opening to its rear by around ten feet, making it about seventy feet long, and larger than the Fancy’s two shuttles. It settled gently to the deck. The cockpit windows were darkly tinted, so they couldn’t see inside. If manually controlled, it had been a masterful job.
Again, at Telour’s order, Mirikami personally closed the hold doors, and when sealed, pressurized the bay as quickly as the system allowed.
It turned out that the small shuttle had no airlock, suggesting that it probably was designed for atmospheric use, but worked well in space. A roughly ten foot wide section, near the left rear, on the side where Mirikami and his men had gathered, raised high.
First out was a Krall warrior, without their version of a soft suit. He was followed by eleven unsuited and fearful looking humans, seven women, four men, and then another Krall in a brown uniform, who was possibly the pilot.
The people immediately noted the suited humans, but stayed clustered behind the Krall warrior that had preceded them, obviously afraid to speak or jo
in the other humans.
Telour came around the rear of the shuttle, no longer in his soft suit. Mirikami opened his faceplate to ask him a question.
“Telour, are these captives now part of my ship’s clan, and my responsibility?”
“Your ship, human?” he spoke in rebuttal, “you no longer control this ship, and you do as we say, as do these animals.”
“Of course. Yet Parkoda ordered me to take responsibility for the actions of those humans aboard this ship, to guarantee that all humans obey your instructions. This will minimize how many will mistakenly give challenge and die before reaching Koban I was told. Are these people to join the prisoners here?” he asked.
“That is what Parkoda has ordered. Yet they have not been granted Ra Ka Endo, the training status we give to the youngest novice. I grant them that honor now, in Parkoda’s name. I will send a warrior to mark them.
“As their new clan leader, it becomes your responsibility to instruct them, and to enforce and honor the agreement with Parkoda. Send them to the rest of your herd. Parkoda said you are to return to him for the Jump, in your control room. You call it a Bridge. “
He spoke briefly into his shoulder com, while he simultaneously plucked the communication pads from the four human faceplates, then left with most of the other Krall and the Jump Hole device. One warrior remained, closing the shuttle hatch, and clearly guarding the craft.
Left to their limited liberty once more, Mirikami offered a quick welcome and introduced himself to his eleven new charges, followed as quickly by an apology that he had to leave immediately. He explained that his crewmembers would take them to the passenger decks, and would explain their situation and their new status under the Krall.
Not daring to make Parkoda think he was tarrying, he asked two Stewards to help him pull his soft suit off more quickly. He hurried to the closest lift, hoping they were cleaned of blood. The first lift to arrive had a clean floor, its cloth cover gone, but the spattered table cloths were still hanging, as they were on the other lift, arriving seconds later. He called over Walters and Rigson to take those down. Walters had to ride along with him to finish the job. He pressed in the nonstop Bridge code.
The chime announced his arrival, and Noreen turned to greet him. Parkoda had swiveled his head towards the lifts well before the chime, although Noreen hadn’t hear so much as whisper prior to that. It was another example of their keen hearing.
“Captain, Parkoda had me instruct Ms. Willfem to tune both Traps to the highest energy tachyon we can possibly catch in either one. That was done shortly before you started back up here.” She raised her eyebrow to indicate her puzzlement.
Mirikami faced the Krall. “Parkoda, we will be ready to Jump when either one of our Traps catch the high energy tachyons they are tuned for. However, this does not tell me how many days we will be in the Jump Hole, and thus how far we must Jump. The tachyon energy you ask for is the maximum that we can Trap, and is rare and could take many hours to catch. This is much more energy than we need to Jump anywhere that you order us to go.”
Parkoda had an answer ready, “Koban is a small distance more than you crossed to come here from your worlds. More energy makes you travel more swiftly.” He said that with a sense of finality, despite it being completely wrong. They would have to tread lightly here, to avoid appearing to contradict him.
“Sir, we will do as you order,” Mirikami assured him, “but my ship will only travel at one speed in Tachyon Space, and it requires only enough energy to move my size ship into Tachyon Space. The greater energy tachyons take longer to Trap and move us no faster. We required twenty three of our days to get to this star from half way inside the edge of human settled space.”
“And I ordered you to catch more energy, to go to Koban faster.” Parkoda reminded him.
“Sir,” he was sweating out this reply. “Once we enter any size Jump Hole we travel at the same speed in Tachyon Space. The tachyon energy you have ordered us to capture would be enough to enclose a much larger space than this ship needs. We will wait much longer to find such a very powerful tachyon before we can depart, and we will travel to Koban no faster.
The Krall glared at him for an instant, but decided ask a question. “A human ship does not go faster with more energy? My Clanship does this!” Then he reluctantly added, “I have not before taken a human ship that still flies. Other clans captured whole small ships, and they now sit on Koban as proof of their prize. But they do not share secrets to help other clans to earn breeding rights more quickly. I know all Krall ships Jump sooner than human ships but I did not know human ships were also slow.”
“Is the speed of our travel so important?” asked Mirikami. “We will still arrive where you order us to go, but not as soon as you expected. It is the fault of weaker human science, and not your fault. You could return on your ship, and your warriors and translators will brings us later.”
That was quickly negated by Parkoda. “I cannot go alone first! I need my prize when I reach Koban, but I will miss a larger raid if I do not return soon.” With an angry blurred slash of extended talons through empty air towards them, he showed the first sign of frustration they had seen in a Krall. He could have disemboweled them easily if he had chosen to do so, and it appeared he had considered doing exactly that.
The dejected Krall leader explained his personal problem. “Some other clans will like it if my new status is less, if my prize is made small or if I am late and do not lead a new raid.”
As his explanation continued, it revealed why the humans needed to care very much about his personal problem.
“I can carry many humans on my Clanship, as fast as I need, but it will not carry all my captives. We must send this ship and two of eight of my captives into a Jump Hole. My clansmen would speak more of my loss than my gain for this, my greatest raid,” he lamented. “I cannot go slow to Koban and miss a raid that strikes closer to your worlds. And with this large prize I will earn a right to lead a greater raid.”
Poor alien killer, Mirikami thought sardonically. He’s caught between a rock and a hard place. Travel slowly and miss a new raid to kill more humans, travel fast and have to kill some he had already captured. Tough call.
Regretting his ignorance when he had stupidly pointed out that their Jump Hole travel was done at a constant rate, Mirikami was furiously thinking about any reasonable alternative to their immediate problem. Only a remote possibility came to him, but it played to Parkoda’s ambitions.
“Parkoda, if you have a K’Tal that can describe your faster method of Tachyon Space travel, perhaps we can go as fast as you want us to go. Maybe it isn’t very hard to do. If we can do that you would keep all of your captives and the ship as a prize.”
Even a ridiculous long shot was worth a try, since the alternative was having the Krall kill over two hundred more of his people.
Instead of a direct reply, Parkoda was suddenly speaking silently into his shoulder com.
Fearful that Parkoda had just issued orders to kill two hundred ten people, Mirikami waited with a knot in his guts. He knew he could never accept his own survival and leave his ship under those circumstances. Noreen would have to assume command and continue without him.
They waited to see what had been decided for an agonizing time. Then a brown suited Krall suddenly sprang up the stairwell without a sound. Parkoda had glanced that way seconds earlier, apparently able to hear him coming. It was unbelievable how beings so large and heavy moved so quietly, and with that unnatural speed.
Their ears sprouted, and the now familiar pantomime of silent lip movements started for perhaps a minute. Parkoda translated, “Delktor is a K’Tal that knows of Jump Hole making. He made the Jump Hole for your dead animals.”
The uncertainty wasn’t over, but at least Parkoda was looking for a solution for his own ego-based problem, which would coincidentally resolve the human survival problem.
It seemed there was a third problem as well, one involving clan rivalry and the Kr
all command hierarchy. “Delktor is not of my Tanga clan,” Parkoda told them. “He does not want to tell me what I need to know, but I am leader on this raid. He cannot hold this knowledge from me or he will lose status, or I will challenge him and take his life. I will translate your questions.”
Mirikami asked his hopeful question. “Does Delktor know how to change our method of moving in Tachyon Space, to make us go as fast as your Clanship?”
There was a brief exchange.
“This K’Tal has studied captured human ships,” Parkoda told him. “He knows of differences for our ships and human. You catch same tachyons, but not as quick as we can, but they can give you the energy needed. But it is why you move so slowly when you leave this space that is my problem.”
Sure, it was his problem, of course.
“This K’Tal says a Krall ship makes something that is like second twist in space, or a turn. I don’t know the human word.”
Parkoda spoke to the K’Tal again. There were some animated hand movements, and apparent agitation on behalf of Delktor.
“He says it is almost the same as the change every ship makes when a Jump Hole is made, when you turn or twist to leave this Universe.”
Noreen blurted out “The rotation into Tachyon Space! The event horizon around the ship appears to get smaller as it rotates in a different dimension. The Jump Hole really moves into Tachyon Space! That must be the first turn the K’Tal means, and we call that a rotation.”
Parkoda made an effort to explain that to Delktor, who was obviously not happy to have to listen to what mere animals had to say, even when relayed by his superior.
Noreen made a sort of an open spherical shape with her two hands, and crudely rotated them as she tried to squeeze them together, interlocking the fingers, as if shrinking the sphere, and then, using one hand, she used thumb and forefinger to suggest a smaller circular opening that grew smaller.
Koban Page 13