Music of the Spheres (The Interstellar Age Book 2)

by Daniels, Valmore

  The relief Terry felt was quickly replaced by a measure of embarrassment. These people must think him some kind of country rube. He vowed not to open his mouth again until he had something intelligent to say.

  Klaus turned to Jose. “Speaking of which, you may transfer them and the cargo to my ship. Use knockout gas; filter it through their air system.” He glanced at Terry and gave a wink. “No conflict, no fighting, no harm. You see, we’ve thought of everything.”

  Terry flushed red.

  Jose, a pleased smile on his lips, motioned to Carlos and the other men. “Let’s go secure the prisoners.” As he left with them, he called back over his shoulder to Terry. “You can stay with Captain Gruber and help him.”

  Gruber gave Terry a level look. It was obvious what the pilot was thinking: Terry’s status in the movement was on a downward slide.

  When Jose and the other Cruzados were gone, Klaus took a step closer to Captain Gruber. “Once we have everything aboard, I need you to set the autopilot to point the liner back at the Sun. With any luck, the authorities will waste time trying to save a ghost ship. By then, we’ll be very far away. We have a lot of work to do, and we don’t want to be interrupted.”

  Terry started to say, “But, I thought…” And once again, he felt the heat rise in his neck and cheeks as Klaus looked at him with an amused smile.

  “What,” Klaus said, “did you think the governments of Earth were just going to give in to our demands if we turned over the cargo and hostages? Restore you to your rightful place as ambassadors to the stars? Ha!” This time, his laughter had the sound of a threat in it. He was obviously growing tired of entertaining Terry’s ignorance.

  Terry knew he was pushing the limit of Klaus’s tolerance, but he had to ask one last question:

  “If we aren’t holding the Kinemet for ransom, what are we going to do with it?”

  There was a chill moment when Terry thought Klaus was going to order his uncle to shoot him where he stood, but then the younger man’s face broke into a wide grin.

  “I’m glad you asked,” he said to Terry. “Because I need you to work with me to complete the translation of the scroll, and uncover its secret. For that, we need the Kinemet, and a few test subjects.”

  With that, Klaus gave his uncle a nod, and then headed in the same direction as Jose and the others.

  Captain Gruber gave Terry a tap on the arm with the back of his fingers. “Let’s get moving.”

  ∞

  Trying not to be too obvious about it, Terry took a careful look at the unconscious hostages as they were loaded on gurneys and transported one by one from the liner to the Ultio. Aside from a few bruises here and there, and an overall pallor of gauntness from lack of nutrition, they all seemed to be healthy.

  He did notice the one woman among them, a civilian, and recognized her from the news. It was the captain from the missions to Pluto. Terry was quite surprised to see her, but made sure to keep his expression neutral around the other Cruzados.

  Within an hour, the hostages and the Kinemet were transferred to a safe hold on the Ultio, and Captain Gruber asked Terry to help him fire up the Diana’s engines and set its course for oblivion.

  For the most part, Terry had no idea what he was doing, but whenever the captain said to press this button or that, he did. Soon, the liner was fully prepped and ready for its final voyage into the Sun.

  “If we aren’t going to return to Earth or Luna,” Terry asked after screwing up his courage, “where are we going?”

  “You know, you ask a lot of questions,” Captain Gruber said in German. Though the translation came across in a pleasant programmed voice, the captain’s original tone had been acerbic. He switched to English. “Curiosity could get you in trouble. If Jose wanted you to know, he would have told you.”

  Terry forced himself to keep his voice light and casual. “Maybe it slipped his mind. He’s quite busy.” When the captain didn’t immediately reply, Terry asked, “What’s the big secret, anyway? I’m going to find out soon enough. So what’s the surprise?”

  Eyeing the young Mayan, Captain Gruber took a minute out from his final preparations and flicked on a backup navigation holoscreen. He tapped in a few commands on the haptic console and the image of a familiar planet came into view.

  Terry’s lips fell open as if to make an exclamation, but no sound came out. He finally found his voice. “I would never have guessed.”

  “Precisely why Klaus chose it,” Captain Gruber said. “Not only is it right there in plain view, but who would think to look for us in a ball of poisonous gas and sulfuric acid?”

  The captain finished programming the computer and got up to leave. “My boy, if there is such a thing as hell, where we’re going is the closest thing to it in this universe.”

  18

  NASA NewsFlash :

  May 2102 :

  Nearly one hundred and forty years after Venus became the object of the first successful interplanetary mission, the Lucis Observatory orbiting Earth’s sister planet is now vacant and abandoned.

  Citing budgetary constraints and lack of public support for the research station, NASA’s board of directors voted early last year to cease manned operations to Venus. The final crew disembarked this morning after finalizing the automation of the remaining sensor equipment. They should be arriving home by the end of the month.

  For more details, please follow our MeshSite…

  19

  Canada Station Three :

  Lagrange Point 4 :

  Earth Orbit :

  The one thing Kenny insisted on was to record the experiments on holo.

  Since they wanted to keep the administration of Quantum Resources out of the procedures until they could come up with some solid conclusions, both Alex and the physicist decided to conduct their tests in Alex’s apartment after official hours.

  For the most part, Alex’s involvement in the core research at the lab had become minimal—there were only so many experiments they could do without any Kinemet. It had only been on Kenny’s original insistence that Alex had been there on a more regular basis the past few weeks. Now that Kenny’s official reports did not show any progress, Alex was allowed to spend his time as he saw fit, so long as he remained on call should the need arise.

  Since recharging himself with the Kinemetic radiation on the liner before it was hijacked, Alex was completely restored. He had not, however, reported his recovery to the administration, and wouldn’t until he and Kenny had a chance to do some of their own research.

  His complexion was hale, his legs were strong, and he had more energy than he’d had for years.

  He had not gone to see Doctor Amma for his regularly scheduled checkup, but sent her a message that everything was going well for him. Although the doctor had the best of intentions, Alex knew any diagnosis she reached would not provide him with any great insight into his condition. It would, however, raise some serious flags back on Earth if they reported he had gone into complete remission. For the time being, he could not afford that kind of attention.

  Alex wanted time to investigate other aspects of the Kinemetic ability without the hindrance of the scientists who had spent most of the last ten years getting him to perform the same useless tasks and scratching their heads when they couldn’t figure out what it all meant.

  In Kenny, Alex saw the spark of someone who wanted to know the answers without using the knowledge for their own political or professional gain. Although Kenny had come on strong—trying to prove himself—once he had a glimpse of what Alex was, and what he could become, Kenny’s primary instincts kicked in.

  Most scientists initially entered their fields in the pursuit of knowledge, to be the first one to solve the puzzle. After years of the politics and squabbling inherent in the scientific community, many lost sight of their purpose. Right under the surface, Kenny was still motivated by his original passion, and Alex recognized it.

  But while NASA and Quantum Resources wanted to know the extent
of Alex’s condition, Alex needed to know. And if it meant going behind the backs of the administration to find those answers, so be it.

  At first, when he no longer needed the hydraulic braces, Alex was certain someone would notice him walking around Canada Station Three under his own power, but after years of dismissing his presence, no one seemed to be able to tell the difference. Still, Alex kept mostly to himself in his rooms, except to go to the mess hall, or to the labs when he was called.

  He didn’t need to go to any physical location; once again his clairvoyant ability allowed him to visit any area on the station without leaving his room. All he had to do was close his eyes and concentrate. It was a simple matter of will for him to push his senses outward. Like a ghost or an astral walker, he could frequent every corner of Canada Station Three.

  Alex was able to see Kenny with his ability long before the physicist arrived at apartment for their nightly experiments.

  A moment before Kenny pressed the buzzer, Alex extended his thoughts to the door panel. While it was just as easy to walk over and press the release, or even use voice control to allow the door to open, Alex preferred to exercise his electropathic ability to trip the switch. It was good practice.

  “Hello, Alex,” Kenny said as he stepped inside.

  Without any additional preamble, Kenny pushed a cart filled with equipment toward Alex’s computer station and began to connect the sensor leads to the bus ports.

  “You had an idea, Kenny?”

  The physicist nodded. “Yesterday I noticed that there was a fluctuation in the ambient temperature when you used your sight.” He glanced over at Alex. “I hate using the word ‘clairvoyance.’ Sounds like something a fortune-teller would say.”

  Alex shrugged.

  Kenny continued explaining: “I’d like to run a series of tests to measure the temperature change around you in relation to the distance that you extend your sight. It could be important; if you require more energy to see farther, it could make a difference to how much Kinemet someone would need to pilot a ship to different locations.”

  “I keep telling you, piloting a ship in that manner is not what was intended. That’s just incidental.”

  Kenny looked up from the computer and nodded. “Yeah, I know. But if we’re going to get the government corporations on board with this—and get you more of the Kinemet—we need to give them some tangible purpose. They want to see black on their profit and loss statements, not red. They need results. Things they can get behind; like cheap space travel.”

  “All right. But tonight I’m going to try to push my sight farther than I ever have before,” he said, adopting Kenny’s word for the ability.

  “What do you mean?”

  Alex lay back on the sofa while Kenny trucked the cart over and placed the sensors around and on Alex.

  “The very first time I experienced the sight, I saw the entire solar system laid out for me. It happened over a four-hour period, but in my memory, it was more like an afterimage from a bright flash. There was no controlling it. It was almost like something in my mind was calibrating my senses, getting my location.

  “After that, my range was considerably less. I could only see about a hundred and fifty kilometers away. Before I went to Centauri, I used that ability to help the group who was sheltering me, by warning them of incoming ships. When they went on salvage missions, I would scout for them. I had plenty of time to practice and push my ability.”

  Kenny asked, “You worked for the pirates who kidnapped you, right?”

  “We came to an understanding.” Alex closed his eyes and tried to relax. “I’ve never been able to go farther than about a hundred and fifty kilometres, and when I try, it’s been an enormous strain.” He looked at Kenny. “I can sense there’s something out there, beyond the limit of my clairvoyance—my sight. Maybe there’s something out there I can only see if I’m quantized.”

  “You mean, when you shift out of our reality?” Kenny paused to look at Alex.

  “Yeah. But when I enter a quantized state, I don’t have any senses at all. It’s like I’m in some kind of stasis. I know that’s not the way it’s supposed to be, but… It’s like I’m a baby bird that has ventured out of its nest for the first time and sees the limitless sky. It can tell it’s supposed to be able to fly, but hasn’t figured out how to use its wings yet. Until I can complete my transformation, I won’t know what I’m capable of when I become quantized.”

  “So what is it that you are proposing tonight?”

  Alex breathed deeply, and paused to collect his thoughts. “When I spent those few hours on the Diana recharging myself with the Kinemet, there were others there who were also exposed to the Kinemetic radiation.”

  “Yes?” Kenny’s interest was piqued.

  “Perhaps if I focus on them, since they’ve been marginally irradiated, I’ll be able to bridge the gap between us.”

  “And,” Kenny added, a knowing smile on his lips, “perhaps get a location on your kidnapped friends?”

  Alex nodded. “That’s the plan.”

  “I’m on board with that. Let me just finish hooking you up.”

  It only took Kenny a few more minutes to complete the set up. As he tested the sensors and got an initial reading before they started their experiment, Kenny looked as if there was something he wanted to say.

  “What’s wrong?” Alex asked.

  “It’s only been three days since you were restored,” Kenny said. “I know you’ve used your abilities far more than what I’ve seen.”

  Alex admitted, “Yeah. So?”

  “So, the Kinemetic radiation in you is not unlimited. You’re going to run out of juice at some point, and we have no idea when we’ll get more for you.”

  Alex leaned back into the sofa and smiled dismissively. “I know, but I’m good for a while longer. Let’s get on with this, Dr. Frankenstein.”

  Once Kenny finished attaching the sensors to Alex, measuring his vital stats as well as brain waves and electromagnetic emanations, he flipped on the spectrograph and gave Alex a thumbs up gesture.

  Shutting his eyes, Alex willed himself back into that transcendent state. Over the past few days he had become quite adept at the technique.

  This time, instead of visualizing the station and allowing his senses to float through the corridors and rooms, he pushed his senses outward. Trying to ignore anything tangible within the scope of his sight, he focused on any Kinemetic energy signatures in the area. There was a link between him and that element, and if he could simply train his extra-spatial senses to detect it, he was certain he could send his incorporeal form out to find Justine and the others.

  As he scouted in a sweeping pattern outside the station, he felt an extrasensory tug, accompanied by a note or two of the haunting melody that always seemed to be in the periphery of his senses when he was using his Kinemetic abilities. Without being conscious of what he was doing, he gathered all his will and pushed himself in that direction.

  At first, his spectral senses soared at an alarming speed, but it was as if he were on the end of a giant elastic. Once Alex reached approximately a hundred and fifty kilometres distance from the station, the effort to move himself even a meter more became exponentially more difficult. Like a marathon runner who reaches their glycogen limit, Alex felt a sudden burning fatigue and lost focus.

  Disoriented, he suddenly could not determine which way to return to his body. He was lost, adrift in space, and he didn’t have enough energy to sever the link and snap back to reality.

  Alex panicked, and he felt his consciousness fade away into a nothingness as dark as the farthest regions of space.

  20

  Unknown Plantation :

  Honduras :

  Central American Conglomeration :

  For what seemed like an eternity, Michael and George lay on the floor of the van as the Cruzados transported them to an unknown location.

  Trussed up like a hog around his ankles and wrists, Michael was unable to
find a position where every pothole they hit in the road didn’t send him bouncing and jostling against the steel floor. Twice he banged his head against a metal tool box; the second time he nearly blacked out and almost vomited from the sudden nausea. He wasn’t sure his kidneys would survive the ride.

  Like George, Michael was gagged, and could only glare back at the rebel soldier who watched over him with callous eyes. Unlike George, Michael was still conscious.

  The first time George had tried to protest his capture, struggling against his bonds, the solider guarding them kicked him in the side and barked, “Silencio!”

  After a particularly jarring bump, George once again growled through his makeshift muzzle. The soldier struck him in the side of the head with his rifle butt, and then gave Michael a challenging look when he tried to wriggle over to check on his friend.

  A small trickle of blood ran down George’s face. He was knocked out, but breathing. Still alive, though he didn’t regain consciousness during the remainder of the journey.

  It was hard to judge how much time had elapsed, but it seemed like hours before the van slowed, turned a sharp corner, and then rolled up to its final destination.

  Michael heard shouts in Spanish as orders were given, acknowledged and carried out. He estimated from the voices that there were more than a dozen men in the vicinity.

  When the back doors of the van opened, and he and George were pulled out into a moonlit compound, Michael saw that his assumption was correct.

  A number of armed men approached to assist in unloading the prisoners. While two of the soldiers grabbed Michael by the arms, a third cut the rope around his ankles. They escorted him from the van to a large storage shed. Four other men lifted the prone figure of George out and carried him.

  In addition to the shed where they were heading, there were three other outbuildings—barns converted to barracks, Michael guessed as he spied more men milling around in front of them. The buildings had been erected on either side of a packed dirt road which led up to a main house. It was dark except for one room on the second floor. A silhouetted figure stood in the window, as if overseeing the activity below.