Law's End
By GA Douglass all rights reserved
Published by GA Douglass
Copyright© 2015 by GA Douglass, all rights reserved.
Cover art by GA Douglass
Law's End is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are, fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
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Law's End
by GA Douglass
Prelude: "What We Leave Behind"
"Any lack of information obstructs the pursuit of reasonable courses of action. The results of such actions are not predictable. Unpredictable results breed confusion, and in turn confusion breeds panic."
Excerpt from 'The Principles of University'
A voice raised in a pleading demand struggled to be heard above the cacophony contained within the wide white walled corridor of the research platform, "What happened?"
Around this plea was a buzz of seemingly disconnected and nonsensical, yet purposefully driven, activity. Key pieces of lab equipment as well as critical data storage and analysis units were being hastily moved from the workstations where they had been mounted. Some of the equipment was so heavy it had to be moved through the platform's wide main corridor on cargo haulers. Many smaller pieces of equipment were carried in hand by those who had a short time before depended professionally upon them. Those with hands free rushed back, pushing against the flow of traffic, to retrieve more vital research apparatus.
All the faces were familiar to the isolated soul standing in the middle of this activity, but now rendered alien. The familiar faces ignored the pleas and their bodies barely swerved to avoid knocking them down as they pushed past. These were people that they had known, and had worked alongside of, for years in some cases. Now these faces ignored them in a rush of great urgency to finish whatever they were doing. Even eye contact was avoided for this island of pleading desperation lost among them.
Desperation spiraled rapidly into panic as the voice demanded on the verge of tears, "What's happening?"
A strong pair of hands grasped their shoulders forcing their attention forward on a face obscured by rebreather mask. "Carol, we're evacuating, do you remember your life-pod assignment?" Carol nodded mechanically in response to the masked figure's absurd question and whose voice was so familiar yet still Carol somehow couldn't assign a name as it continued, "Good, you've got to go back to your stateroom, gather up everything you can't lose, and get to your life pod. We're abandoning the platform. We have to reach the surface of One-Nine-Four. Do you understand?"
Carol shook her head emphatically turning her face away from the masked figure. It was then that she caught a glimpse of the hands holding her and she looked to her own hands. In horror Carol held out her hand, looking at it as if it were some monstrosity attached to the end of her arm.
Now the tears streamed unrestrained down her face as Carol presented the hand to the masked face and demanded in a rising shout, "What is this? What happened? What did we do?"
Chapter 1: "The Deal"
>THE SKRIM SHAW HAS IT ALL!
>Don't waste your shore leave hours in search of local hotspots.
>Drinking! Gambling! Dancing! Gaming! Dining!
>We welcome all species and all group sizes.
-Promotional flyer found plastered around the Beckstine Settlement starport
In the distant future somewhere in the Laniakea supercluster
Kassad Mir lifted the drink from the counter with thin agile hands on the ends of arms that managed to be muscular and fit without being bulky. Bulk was supplied by the loose fitting, yet impeccably tailored, exterior garments of his flight suit. His physique and the pressure suit were optimized for speed and flexibility with just enough brute strength to make the outcome of any fisticuffs less than certain.
Raising the clear glass Kassad studied its amber contents with an appraising set of dark eyes that detachedly studied the light filtering through the liquid. Above the dark eyes equally dark hair had been given just enough discipline to keep it just beyond his line of sight. Both eyes and hair had a perfect uniformity of color that hinted at having been purposefully altered, while the eyes also had a steadiness that could unnerve and that was wholly a product of his inner focus.
With the drink having passed visual inspection the glass was lowered to Kassad's nose for a connoisseurs' sniff. It was a nose that was slightly larger than was considered fashionable and with a distinct angular bend in the middle of its length. The nose was framed in the middle of a thin face of flawless light bronze tone skin. It was an authoritative nose sitting above a dark beard roguishly trimmed almost to nonexistence so that it just traced the outline of jaw and lips.
While the glass's contents may not have been made with authentic ginger Kassad was contented by the results of his preliminary investigation that it was an acceptable local substitute. With the beverage finally approved for a sip the glass was lowered to modestly thin lips that sampled only the very surface of the liquid. Taste of the beverage immediately brought the initial analysis into question so that the glass was again brought before the face's other senses for a second pass.
With a mildly disapproving glare at the counter's robot bartender Kassad turned with his drink to give an equally disapproving glare to the rest of the Skrim Shaw establishment. Somehow Kassad never found himself in a place like the Skrim Shaw to do legitimate business. He had more than his fair share of doubts about legitimate business ever occurring at such an establishment.
Skrim Shaw's extensive bar twisted through a kilometer long loop enclosing a variety of variable environment settings. In theory creatures from almost any world could find a comfortable atmosphere or at least have one custom modified to their particulars. In practice most of the Skrim Shaw's patronage was of terrestrial origin and setting up any conditions hazardous to that species was generally frowned upon.
From its conceptualization Skrim Shaw had been very consciously envisioned as a space farer's one stop for their one night out the world. As a recreational facility the Skrim Shaw catered to sensibilities that ranged from the frivolous to sober. Within the circumference of the Skrim Shaw's walls were dance floors, dinning booths, conference rooms, and gambling tables of an indescribable variety. Scattered around this sea of open and often legally grey dealings there were secure backrooms where any sort of activity could be arranged.
From his own personal experiences Kassad doubted if anyone ever came to the Skrim Shaw to simply carouse. Certainly the intoxicant free beverage he carried away from the bar wasn't mixed to a standard different than what one could acquire out of the average vending machine. The dance floors appeared to be active, but it almost certainly generated patron constructs during lulls in activity to keep up appearances or provide partners to the solitary. While the establishment's existence as a cover for illicit activities was the most likely explanation Kassad had little time to waste pondering the motives of others. He certainly wasn't there to carouse.
At least the noise level permitted conversation of the sort needed to conduct
business. Acoustic dampers scattered throughout the establishment reduced everything off the dance floor, excluding each patron's personal selections, to a dull background rumbling. Even the Arabic electronica that Kassad made a point to listening to during business dealings was kept at a soothing level in keeping with his preferences and the image he habitually projected.
As a youth Kassad had decided that his name referenced ancient Arabic heritage. As many did in pursuit of their ancient roots he'd permanently altered his skin, hair and eye color, and even subtly altered his bone structure to match the ancient stereotype he wished to emulate. Only briefly had Kassad taken things further, as many did, by making a hobby of studying the history, culture, and language to better project the desired image.
In maturity Kassad had found it more important to cultivate a reputation that kept a steady stream of lucrative opportunities flowing to him. This proved much more practical than wasting time projecting an image that people invariably interpreted as they wished instead of how it was intended. Yet even as his enthusiasms for the conceit diminished the outward trappings remained as a visible link to both a real and a possible past.
Taking the immediate area in with a sweeping glance Kassad selected a corner booth as far as possible from the main flow of traffic, and its obfuscation field swirled into existence as he approached. Each occupied table defaulted to concealment behind a web of randomly distorted light and asymmetrical noise that melded together in any one area to approximate music. He'd been to enough places like the Skrim Shaw to know not to fully trust the establishment's provided obfuscation gear. Rumors always insisted that the owners recorded everything somehow anyway so Kassad placed a small white noise generator on the table in front of him as he slid deeply into the booth so he could more fully face outward.
As he settled into the booth, and in spite of assurances he'd been given that it wouldn't be needed, Kassad checked the charge on his pistol and left it sitting high in its holster. All he knew for certain was that the meeting was a request for aid. In the face of any uncertainty Kassad had learned to always be careful and this was especially for his friends. In his experience it was among friends where a person had to be particularly careful, and this contact had in fact once been a friend and even a mentor.
Kicking his heavy duty spacer's boots up onto the booth's table top Kassad gazed into the obfuscation field. Beyond the edge of the table the obfuscation distorted the world into twisted and melting shapes. It was impossible even for a trained eye to tell if anyone was coming or going through the distortion, but Kassad watched anyway. Somehow the algorithms managed to make the obfuscation look artistic rather than disturbing.
Abruptly a figure emerged from the shimmering noise dressed in academic white with accents of fabric that glistened like liquid lapis lazuli. It was an outfit that denoted either great personal wealth or the pretense of it. It made the dark red and blue design of Kassad's custom tailored spacer suit look shabby and rough by comparison. The only consolation for Kassad was that the more expensive outfit of his guest would likely provide no practical protection whatsoever against a sudden loss of pressure or burst of radiation.
Seizing the initiative in the conversation Kassad spoke first. "Cameron, you look younger than I remember."
It was the sort of thing that was polite to notice as a compliment to both physical upkeep and the acquisition of the funds to do so. In fact Cameron now looked younger than his former student did which indicated the man had undergone expensive rejuvenation therapy. The man's steel grey hair was now an almost platinum blonde while the lines and creases of the man's face had smoothed and tightened in a way that was not the result of simple sculpting. Kassad guessed Cameron to have the biological age of a man ten years younger than himself.
Professor Cameron Fitzgerald took a seat in the booth opposite Kassad and without acknowledging the younger man's compliment announced, "I need to know that your ship is in good condition. Those maintenance reports aren't doctored are they?"
It was an insulting insinuation, but Kassad managed to restrain his response. "As you may have forgotten I'll remind you that I was thrown out of University for inappropriate activities, not suicidal ones." The lack of response on Cameron's behalf prompted Kassad to add, "I just replaced the primary power regulator. Perhaps you'd like to inspect the work?" Kassad would have been astounded if the man knew what any of the vital equipment in a starship did or looked like.
"That answer is satisfactory." Cameron decreed as if evaluating an oral exam. "You haven't taken on any crew have you? Still working alone?"
Kassad tilting his head to one side considering the surprising implications of this line of questioning before responding, "Oh, I work with a team from time to time as needed, but if you're asking if I've taken on a partner, then no. I'm still my own man."
In clearly relieved tones Cameron announced, "That's exactly what I've been looking for. I need your help, but more importantly some of my colleagues need your help."
Waiting patiently for the University man to get to the point on his own having never been an option with Cameron Kassad prodded the conversation along by saying, "I'm listening."
Cameron glanced around uneasily but his eyes only found the shifting patterns of the obfuscation field and Kassad's steady gaze. "A few years ago I endorsed an expedition to study Law's End. The University sent some of its best minds and equipment out to a newly discovered system just this side of the Law's End barrier. Several of the system's outer bodies actual pass from one side to the other in their orbits making it ideal for this work."
Law's End was so called because it was the strictly defined barrier where the physical laws that governed the local Laniakea supercluster gave way to whatever rules governed the surrounding space. The differences weren't obvious at a distance and given the distances involved it had taken the better part of a century to even verify that Law's End existed. After verifying its existence the process of determining its general shape had taken even more time for the inhabitants of the hundred thousand galaxies within Laniakea. Still today the main concern for most of the supercluster's inhabitants was avoiding the hazards of that area where the known laws of physics ended.
Kassad didn't need to keep up with the latest scientific research to realize that such a system would present a tremendous opportunity to learn about the physical laws that prevailed in other parts of the universe. "Sounds like a fine feather for your cap. What went wrong?" Of course something had to have gone wrong or they wouldn't have been talking.
Cameron glanced down as if embarrassed. "No one knows for certain," he looked back up to lock eyes with Kassad, "but it seems the edge of the barrier shifted. That University team is now trapped on the other side."
Nodding as if this were the most normal thing for him to be involved with Kassad noted, "So you need a ship with an old fashioned reaction drive to go in and get them out. Certainly the University has ships that can do this?"
Old-fashioned reaction drives were fairly sophisticated fusion thruster systems that converted fuel into high velocity plasma. Reaction drives were in some ways more complex, more expensive, and more difficult to maintain than reactionless drive systems. It was the versatility of the reaction drive that kept them in use, especially for expeditions near the Law's End barrier. The old-fashioned reaction drives were ideal as they relied upon the same physics of stars, and those worked the same everywhere.
Also useful for less legal purposes reaction drives had just enough legitimate uses to prevent them from being generally outlawed. For Kassad's purposes the power signatures of a reaction drive were different enough from that of the more common reactionless drive to be useful to escape the attention of most casual sensor sweeps. This in turn allowed for discrete penetration of blockades and enhanced avoidance of customs patrols.
Frowning bitterly at what Kassad suspected were the results of typical cutthroat University office politics Cameron answered, "The University won't send anyone. They've decided
it's too dangerous and have written the team off as dead."
"But you don't think they are? Why is this?" Kassad asked knowing perfectly well that The University tended towards expedient answers dressed up with elaborate rationalization rather than the more politically painful process of logical decision making.
With an anger that could only come from having had the conversation too many times already Cameron pounded a balled fist into the table. "They're alive. Enough work had already been done to establish that basic biological processes can function on the other side. It's possible they could survive for years before their systems broke down completely. On top of that a body with a rudimentary biosphere capable of supporting life was in the system. Even if they lost everything else they could have made it to that world." Bringing himself back under control Cameron spread his hands pleadingly. "It's just a week's travel if you leave immediately."
A lot of tech that worked fine for every galaxy in Laniakea became unpredictable, dangerous, or stopped working entirely in the area beyond Law's End. Faster than light drives in particular tended to fail catastrophically in the region, but even biological processes began breaking down eventually. It was a reality that made study of the area difficult, and combined with its remoteness to discourage any investigation at all.
This obviously wasn't the whole story, but then Kassad had become accustomed to people holding back on the whole truth when they hired him. "But I'm guessing the University knows all this too." Kassad casually pressed for more information.
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