War of the Spheres

by B. V. Larson

“No, we’re crossing the depth of the envelope rather than the length or width.”

  “The depth of… a sheet of paper?” I asked.

  “More or less. You did ask for the dumbed-down version…”

  “I know, I know.”

  I could imagine this scenario with difficulty, but I still didn’t get how choosing a different dimension would get you to where you wanted to go. We wanted to travel the length, not the depth—or whatever.

  As time ran out, Cmdr. Collins hailed me on the private comm channel.

  “We’re getting tiny impacts, Chief. Are you feeling this? It’s probably sand particles. We underestimated—”

  “It’s all clear down here, Commander.” I turned and toggled the perspective up close on a side screen. It was easy to see that the debris field had closed the gap and was soon going to hit us. Grit, gravel and rocks the size of your head were going to be raining on us soon.

  Collins’ face appeared with a flash of static on the main comm channel now.

  “It sounds like a tin roof in a hail storm up here!” Collins shouted.

  “Collins,” I said calmly, “we’re ready to jump. Are we cleared on your end?”

  There was a buzz of static, then a shudder jolted the ship deeply. I knew right away that wasn’t good. I let moments pass so he could respond, but nothing came back.

  “Collins!—Collins?” I called out. For a few moments I listened, but nothing came through.

  “I hope everything is okay up there,” Dr. Gevan said quietly.

  “Emily, you’ve got to get us out of here,” I said.

  The look on her face wasn’t exactly encouraging. It was the first time I could remember her looking doubtful.

  “We’ve got thirty seconds in the original window, but I’m not sure if we can jump out of a debris field now that we’re in the middle of it. Skipping from a large region of empty space, sure… that’s what Fairweather was designed for. But we’re getting hit by physical objects now…”

  Dr. Gevan jumped into the conversation. “We’re at thirty four percent. I’m not sure if it’s enough, but we’ve got to try it. I’ve set the field using our best guesses.”

  “This is a huge guess,” Hughes warned. “A stab in the dark.”

  “It’s your call, Colonel,” I said. “But, don’t forget—you just drove us through the guts of a destroyer. I would do it fast, whatever you decide. We could be crushed irreparably any second now that the ejected load is beginning to hit us.”

  Her hand hovered over the drive initiator. I could tell she was struggling with this. She knew all about running an assembly project in a lab, but there were maybe a hundred or more actual lives at stake now.

  It was time to jump off the cliff into the ocean and take all of us with her. The final second was a true leap of faith, and it was irreversible.

  The scanner input on my dash was telling me there was no choice, however. Not really. So, I released the restraints on my chair and got to my feet.

  I stood next to Hughes who was still strapped into the pilot’s seat, her hand was on the initiator. She stared forward, knowing all of us might die at once as a result of her next move.

  A rain of impacts became audible to us—beginning to chatter through Viper’s skin.

  “I’m not taking anything away from you, Emily—just sharing the load like a team. We’ll do this together.”

  A rain of impacts became audible to us—beginning to chatter through Viper’s skin. I reached out my hand and enclosed hers.

  My hand pushed with hers. Together, we initiated the jump, and everything shifted around us.

  This time there was no countdown, no moment to steel ourselves. We plunged together toward another state of being. The sickening sensation that wrenched our guts wasn’t a brief one. It went on and on until the people around me began to lose consciousness.

  Only I hung on to my awareness. In all probability, everyone else aboard had passed out.

  I wasn’t built to faint, or to sleep. It was one of the cruelest things my designers had come up with, because at times of serious agony like this, oblivion would have been a welcome relief.

  The impacts on the hull were slower, muffled and distorted into throbbing echoes. It was impossible for me to judge how much time was actually passing.

  Physically, things seemed out of kilter too. I felt like I was doing back flips—head over heels, but when I looked at my feet they were planted on the deck.

  Trying to resist the intense vertigo, I closed my eyes, but it didn’t help much. I had to do something.

  I shuffled my way back to the copilot’s chair. Dropping back into it was a relief. I strapped in and saw that Hughes was indeed out cold along with the rest of the crew.

  I studied the dashboard in front of me as we phased through the presets that Fillmore and Gevan had come up with. I found that swiping through screens on the UI was a partial distraction from the side effects of this kind of travel. Gnashing my teeth and yelling a bit helped too.

  Abruptly, it was over, and I found myself staring at two green lights which flashed alternately. The main display read: Standing By.

  A smattering of debris must have come along with us. It rained hard against the hull, and then all was quiet. Too quiet.

  “Collins?” I shouted over the private comm channel.

  There was no response. I brought up visuals from near-space using Viper’s bow cameras and directed the feed to the main screen.

  I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. There was no sign of Luna Station, the mining freighter, or the massive hail-cloud of metal ore. I didn’t even see Earth, or the Moon.

  There was only Viper, calmly and quietly advancing.

  Switching to an aft perspective on a different screen I caught sight of an impressively large dust cloud expanding at our previous location.

  We were safe, but the scope of potential destruction gave me an ache in the pit of my stomach. They’d lost this round, but had scored on an impressive scale overall. They were killing my people and wreaking terrible havoc.

  I couldn’t help but feel completely exposed with everybody napping around me. I’m capable, mind you, but I can’t replace the entire crew on a large ship. Nobody was driving, and nobody was watching our ass.

  Tearing off my restraints, I leaped over to the pilot’s seat. I patted Emily’s cheek until she responded with a deep gasp of breath and woke up.

  “I’m heading up to the bridge,” I told her. “Nobody up there is talking to me.”

  “Yes, okay—I’m awake. Hey, we made it through!” she said lighting up. “I’ll run systems checks while you’re gone.”

  “Good idea. I’ll be back soon,” I said and bounced away through the hatch and out into Viper’s hold.

  My attempts to raise anyone via comm-link failed. I raced straight for the bridge to see what was going on firsthand. I was nearly there when I was thrown violently to the side of the passage.

  The destroyer had abruptly begun to swing about. The deck shuddered as her engines lit, and then I was sent rolling down the passage before I could seize a grab-bar. Viper was underway at a hot burn.

  “Shit,” I muttered. “Now what?”

  Instead of safely strapping into the first available seat, I fought against the force of the heavy thrust and made my way toward the bridge. Several times, I was wrenched away from a secure grip and sent tumbling.

  My elbow throbbed where I’d knocked it into the rim of a hatchway, and I could taste blood in my mouth, but I finally managed to barge onto the bridge.

  I found Captain Jessup there, bellowing over the muted roar of the ship’s engines. Two bloodshot eyes rolled to look at me. “This is a bad time for a stroll, Gray—take a seat. Quit being a damned lunatic.”

  “What the hell is going on, Captain?” I asked, shouting to be heard over the engine and various emergency alarms.

  He didn’t bother to answer, but he did cut the thrust down to a medium burn. Most of the other crewmen were org
anizing themselves, puking and rubbing their faces.

  Sliding into a vacant seat, I secured belts and sucked in a few deep breaths. Whatever was happening, the ride wasn’t over yet.

  Chapter 32

  Finishing his high-G maneuver, Jessup slumped in his command chair like a third world king.

  “Jessup?” I called out.

  “You will refer to me as Captain or Captain Jessup while on my bridge, Chief Gray.” he replied. “You may also call me ‘sir’ if you mind your manners.”

  “All right—what the hell is going on ‘Captain’?”

  “Allie, bring up the target in 3-D.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied.

  “Wait a minute. What target are we talking about, Captain?”

  “We are in pursuit of an enemy craft, Gray.”

  “Pursuit of an enemy—? That’s not our mission. We can’t be chasing around after distractions.”

  Jessup turned those baleful, bloodshot eyes in my direction and lowered his gaze. “I’m afraid that decision has already been made back on Earth. It’s all right there in my orders, Chief.”

  His lip curled when he said it, and I wondered how personal he was making all this.

  “Your orders—?”

  “Collie! Read the part Gray needs to hear.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Commander Collins drew the computer scroll from a slot at his station. It was the one that Toby and I had forged. He scanned and muttered and finally began to read.

  “In addition to usual patrol duties, the officer in command of the vessel is hereby ordered to perform the following two functions: One, strive to anticipate and prevent hostile conflict with any vessel in immediate space. Two, where said conflict has already been initiated, or prevention is not an option, pursue aggressors with deadly force.”

  “There you have it, Chief,” Jessup said. “Orders from on-high. You may not understand this, but I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do.”

  I nodded, thinking hard. Damn that Toby, he’d been too creative. Jessup had me over a barrel, and the bastard was loving it.

  “Allie,” Jessup said, “zoom in on the target.”

  The detailed figure of the mining freighter loomed over the low holo-projecting dais. It was following the debris field it had created, and it was tumbling in space. There were no signs of life, or engine activity. We were quickly gaining on it as the ship made no attempt to escape.

  “Captain, it’s obvious the freighter has been abandoned,” I said. “Why else would it be in an uncontrolled tumble? She’s not even firing jets—”

  “What if it’s a ruse Gray?”

  “But sir, the freighter shed its bins and it’s now spiraling in a freefall right behind that mess of gravel. What is there to be scared of?”

  “They damaged my ship and endangered every one of our lives. The station and anyone that didn’t get off have been destroyed. Maybe that ore-hauler is a derelict, but maybe it’s not. Maybe just isn’t good enough for me.”

  I blew out a sigh. I knew the best way to avoid problems with aliens was to stay away from them, but Jessup had been empowered by my fake orders. There was no stopping him.

  “Captain, the debris field seemed to knock out communication. Could we…?”

  “Whatever it is—my people are working on that Gray,” he said. “Now, get off my bridge.”

  I complied. Viper was closing in on the tug with only an occasional burst of steering thrust. The walk back to Fairweather would be easier than the trip to the bridge had been.

  Ninety seconds after I left Jessup’s bridge, the destroyer’s engines fired up again, creating a new burst of hard thrust. I was sent tumbling twelve meters down a passage and into a bulkhead. Jessup spoke up over the general channel moments later.

  “Attention all hands. Anyone not secured for active flight is advised to do so immediately. We’re in pursuit of a hostile target.”

  That son of a bitch was definitely making things personal. Everyone else aboard Viper was securely strapped in. Some guys have a real knack for being a dick, and Jessup seemed to be one of those guys.

  Still collecting myself from the deck, Logan chimed in my ear. “Hey Chief, is everything okay?”

  “Yep—never better,” I said.

  “Great… Well, hey… I’m working a hack that should get us back in touch with Viper’s bridge. Are you hearing me okay now?”

  “Loud and clear. If you get my comm-line opened back up with Collins, it might earn you a permanent seat at the sensor board.”

  “Just doing my thing, Chief.”

  “Keep that going Logan. Gray out.”

  Minutes later I was back in Fairweather’s nucleus. Hughes began to question me immediately. Logan, and the rest of the team were outside the module working on connections and anchoring Fairweather.

  “Jessup is chasing down the mining tug,” I explained. “He’s standing on a loophole in the orders. We’re going to have to wait until his little goose-chase is over to tackle the next leg.”

  “That’s not what we’re out here for,” she said. “There’s no time for this.”

  Shrugging, I nodded in agreement. “We’re going to have to wait until he captures or destroys the miner before we proceed.”

  “How long will that take?” Hughes asked. “I’ll need a starting point before I can calculate anything.”

  “Shouldn’t take long,” I said, walking over to her and putting my hands on her shoulders. By the way nice work so far Emily,” I said squeezing an affirmation.

  “Am I interrupting anything here?” Jillian asked as she breezed into the nucleus.

  “No of course not Jillian,” I said stepping away from Hughes.

  Brandt had a cheerless look on her face. “I just came up for a sit-rep. We seem to be in the dark on half of what’s happening up here.” She made it a point to look from Hughes to me. “Everyone is wondering what’s going on right now, and how long it will be until we jump again.”

  Moving back to my chair I cinched in.

  “Excuse me, sirs,” Logan said, appearing in the hatchway. “We have contact re-established with Viper’s bridge. I’d be glad to get the sit-rep from Collins and catch up our own crew.”

  “Yes,” Hughes told him. “Do that, Logan.”

  Jillian coolly ran her eyes over us one last time. “I see your uniform has repaired that burn hole, Chief.”

  “Yeah—the leg underneath is serviceable, too,” I said.

  “Well I guess I’m not needed here for anything else...” She paused and I wasn’t sure what the right words for her were.

  “We’re okay for now, Jillian. Thanks for everything you’ve done.”

  “Good enough,” she quietly said and left abruptly.

  I knew she was stewing as she stormed away. Even when angry, she was a beauty. I watched her walk out with a pang of regret.

  I wanted to go after her—but there were too many pressing issues. I couldn’t afford the distraction now.

  “Emily,” I said, “how tough will it be to escape our sphere? And do you really think we can do it?”

  “Sure—the team’s knowledge and theories direct us to access points located in certain Dimension Rifts. There seems to be a matrix of these points which lead the way to a weak area on the border of our Sphere—a sort of access tunnel.”

  “How much of that is knowledge, and how much is theory?” I asked.

  “We’re turning theory into knowledge very quickly on this voyage, Chief.”

  “I’m all for lucky guesses,” I said, “but I prefer to be certain.”

  She turned to me and gave me her undivided attention. “Chief Gray, you seem to be saying I’m guessing and uncertain.”

  “Not exactly. But I know that—”

  “I’ll remind you, Chief—we’re in the proving grounds now, and so far we’re passing with flying colors. If you aren’t able to see the degree of our success—”

  I knew I had to change the subject, and there
was something I’d been wanting to know for a while now.

  “Colonel Hughes,” I interrupted, “is it possible to weaponize this dimension-shifting technology?”

  I stopped her in her tracks, and it was obvious that she hated my question. Her mouth dropped open, and she was clearly taken aback.

  “How could you even think such a thing?” she murmured. “Must all beautiful discoveries be turned into machines that dispense death?”

  “Not always, but…”

  Our eyes met, but we didn’t speak for a moment.

  “Captain Jessup won’t catch that miner for some time,” Hughes said at last. ”How about you go and stretch your legs, Chief?”

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll let you get some work done in here.”

  A thought struck me as I moved along one of Viper’s echoing steel passages. It was clear Hughes didn’t want to discuss the dark possibilities for her invention, but I was going to file some away for the future.

  It seemed like a given that the projector needed to be inside of the field being generated, but the diameter of the field was adjustable.

  “What if something was only partially contained?” I wondered aloud. “…or someone?”

  Dr. Fillmore was working inside an open power cabinet, and he’d come into earshot. He straightened up like an African rodent from where he was stripping a thick cable and frowned at me.

  “Don’t tell me you have an imaginary buddy, Gray. Are you one of those kooks who talks to himself for comfort? I find such people worrisome in the extreme.”

  My eyes focused on Fillmore. I decided not to get down in the mud for an ego contest with this irritant.

  “I was just speculating about how to greet the aliens the next time we cross paths.”

  “Oh, that,” he said, giving me a look that was superior but suspicious. “I figured that out a week ago.”

  “Really? Let’s hear your theory, Doctor—if it’s solid enough for the light of day.”

  Fillmore spun around in his chair to face me. His brows knit into a frown.

  “It’s far more than a theory,” he said, “it’s a logical conclusion that anyone—even a man such as yourself—should be able to grasp.”

  I made a hurry-up gesture with my fingers then crossed my arms. I knew I was goading him, but sometimes such tactics worked the best.