Michael and Kenny were in the engine room, attempting to install the Quantum Engine. Justine had secured Alex in the captain’s quarters, and had placed the disc of Kinemet back on his chest.
The port officer spoke with authority. “Please be advised: If you do not identify yourself, we will have no choice but to report your ship. You will be interdicted at any space port you attempt to reach. This is your last warning.”
Yaxche motioned to the speaker. “It is not polite to ignore someone who is talking to you.”
Justine made a face. “I’m sorry, Yaxche. I’m just a little too busy at the moment.”
“May I?” he asked, and Justine nodded in mild surprise. She pointed to the controls on the holoslate.
Yaxche leaned forward, turned the monitor to face him, and tapped the button to turn on the two-way feed.
The port officer blinked, clearly taken aback by what he saw. Yaxche still had not changed out of his ceremonial garb.
“Ahyah,” Yaxche said to the man. “Heloo.”
Finding his voice, the port officer said, “Who are you?”
Yaxche gave the man a toothy grin and, remembering to speak into his translator, said, “I am Yaxche. I am on a journey to the heavens.”
“Uhm. Sir? Are you the only one on board? Can you turn the ship around?”
Yaxche shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I am not able to do that. This is only the second time I have been in a space ship.”
“Sir, did you press something you weren’t supposed to?” the man asked. “If there is anyone else on that ship, please get them to the console. You need to turn the ship around, right now.”
Yaxche said, “You look upset. Perhaps if you were to practice meditation, you would be happier. I could show you how.”
Frustrated, the man opened his mouth to issue another command, but something off the visual range distracted him, and he leaned away for a moment.
When the port officer turned back, his voice took on a stern tone. “Sir. Mr. Yaxche. I don’t know if you are in control of the ship or not, but I’ve just been informed there is an armed spacecraft on approach. Somehow they are aware of your activities and have issued a warning. Turn around and dock now, or they will pursue and open fire—”
At the last, Justine reached over and severed the communications link with CS3, and quickly ran her fingers over a number of holoslates. When the ship’s diagnostics did not provide her with the information she wanted, she stepped back, closed her eyes and concentrated.
She used her sight to scan in the general direction of the Moon. Her body shook with the effort of straining against the limits of her power, but the oncoming ship was too far away. It was pure instinct that she changed tactic. Although she could not see past the hundred and fifty kilometer range, she could sense any refined Kinemet or any object that was irradiated by Kinemet at a much farther distance. Within a minute, found what she was looking for.
And cursed.
She opened a communications link to the engine room. “Michael. How are you guys coming with the installation?”
His voice was thin, as if he were speaking at a distance away from the microphone. He would have remote activated the communications console. “Uh, we barely got started.”
“I don’t think it’s an Arabian ship,” she said, acid in her voice, “and they’re not coming from Luna.”
“What?”
“I don’t know who they are, but they’re coming from Venus.”
“Venus? Gruber?” Michael asked in speculation.
“I don’t know who it is, but they’ve got weaponized Kinemet on board. I assume it’s been loaded into deep-range missiles.”
“What?” Michael repeated, and stepped into the video frame. The side of his face was smeared with grease and soot. He had a laser iron in his hand. “They’re using Kinemet as a nuclear weapon?”
“Yeah,” she said. “They know we’re on the run, and they know our trajectory. They’re coming straight for us. If they fire their missiles and hit us, the explosion will set off a chain reaction in our Kinemet. We’ll be vaporized.”
“Why would they want to destroy us? Don’t they want the chance to get the secret of the Kinemet from us?”
“Not if they’ve already figured it out and want to shut us up so they can develop the technology first.”
Michael cursed. Then he said, “We’re going as fast as we can, but the Ultio is using a proprietary operating system. Kenny’s rewriting code while I install the engine. You’re going to have to give us at least a couple more hours before we can patch it in.”
“Hold on to something, then,” she said. “I’m going to go to maximum acceleration for two minutes—about three g of thrust. It’ll take their ship at least an hour to course-correct. That should buy you another hour and a half before they are within missile range.”
“Got it.” He broke the link, and Justine’s hands were a blur on the controls.
To Yaxche, she spoke while she worked. “You’ll have to go back and strap Alex in; yourself, too. It’s going to be a rough couple of minutes.”
“Turbulence?” he asked, his face paling.
“Yeah. Something like that.”
∞
Once Justine had ensured all her passengers were secured, she wiggled her fingers over the haptic console and fired the ion propulsion thrusters.
The Ultio was basically a reconditioned space yacht, originally designed for the comfort of its passengers. The military-class vessels used by the U.S. Space Corp used a much more powerful hydrogen engine capable of greater thrust, and Justine guessed that the enemy craft was outfitted with something similar, and could easily overtake them.
After two minutes, the Ultio’s velocity was less than a tenth of what the Orcus ships had been capable of.
They were racing against time, and the worst part was, once Justine disengaged the thrusters, she was completely helpless. There was nothing for her to do but wait and hope Michael and Kenny completed their installation before they were all blasted out of space by their pursuers.
Rather than sit up alone in the cockpit and go stir crazy, she decided to head back and check up on Yaxche and Alex. The captain’s cabin had a bridge monitoring station, so she could keep an eye on things.
When she got there, she found Yaxche sitting in a short legged chair he had pulled close to the captain’s bed. Alex was safely bundled under a web of canvas straps, and though he was perfectly still, his eyes were wide open and unfocused. It was more than a little eerie.
“How’s our patient?” she asked in a quiet tone, as if a loud noise could wake Alex. There was a small nook cut into one bulkhead where a short desk and metal bench chair were installed. She sat down on the seat and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
Yaxche spoke to her, but his eyes were on Alex.
“The spirit world is a sacred place to us. Our priests meditated all their lives in their quest to learn to walk on the path of dreams and commune with the gods. There is a story I remember my grandfather telling me, about one of our holy men who had mastered the gift of entering the spirit world through dreams. He preferred being there to being in our world, and one day he set foot on the path and never returned, though his body remained until his death.”
Justine thought about that. “Are you saying that even if we are able to bring Alex to where his essence is anchored, he may not recover? May not want to come back?”
Yaxche closed his eyes and nodded. “It is my fear. The Song of the Stars is a powerful and mesmerizing thing.”
He spoke the truth, Justine thought to herself. When she had been in a quantized state back on Venus, she had heard the hauntingly beautiful sound that emanated from the planets in Sol System. Each voice was distinct in a majestic symphony. In one of Yaxche’s interviews, he had called it the Music of the Spheres. She suspected this was one way the Kinemats were able to navigate in space.
For a brief moment back then, when Justine had focused he
r senses outside the limits of Sol System, she had become aware of the pattern of the star beacons she had sensed in the stellar distance. If she closed her eyes, she could almost hear the much more powerful and eternal composition of the Song of the Stars.
If the stars were the ethereal voices that had been calling Alex home all these years, why would he ever consider returning to normal space? It would be like having an opportunity to be in heaven. What could the mortal world ever offer in comparison?
Justine was just too new at this to come up with any conclusions, let alone viable theories on the cosmic impact of her and Alex’s transformations. She was not a philosopher or a priest, nor was she a physicist who might better explain what was happening.
“Yaxche,” Justine said after a time. “It occurred to me that we never asked if you wanted to come with us. Worst case scenario, we might all die; best case, if we are able to achieve light speed, it will be over four years before we arrive in Centauri. I apologize for not talking with you before.”
It was the better part of a full minute before Yaxche replied. “I know my daughter loves me, but she has built a life with her husband and her two daughters. She does not have time for an old man like me. I had hoped my grandson, Te’irjiil, would follow in my footsteps and become a caretaker for the Song of the Stars, but after his poor Itzel passed, he drifted away from everyone. Now that he is gone, I have no reason to remain in this world.”
He looked at Alex. “Except for the Sky Traveler. He needs my guidance, and as long as he needs me, I will go where he goes.”
They both fell into an introspective silence then, and without Justine really being aware of it, she started to nod off.
She suddenly sprang awake when the remote monitor sounded an alert.
“Here we go,” she said to no one in particular, and hurried out.
∞
According to the Pulse-Doppler radar system, the enemy ship was closing in at five-thousand kilometers distance. If Justine remembered correctly, the outside range any of the U.S. Space Corp. missiles could be fired in space and still be guided with any measure of reliable control was about two-thousand kilometers. At the speed difference between the two ships, the enemy would reach optimal firing range in less than ten minutes.
Justine called down to the engine room.
“Heads up. We’ve got company. How are you coming along?”
After a long span, Michael answered the communication feed. “Physically, it’s installed,” he said, his eyes showing how exhausted he was. “We calculated how much Kinemet we would need for the trip out there and loaded it in the quantum drive.”
“Perfect,” she said.
“Kenny’s got the initial computer systems up and working, but we’re having trouble calibrating the Kinemetic dampers. There’s some kind of interface issue. If we can’t get it working properly, we’d have a better chance surviving the missile attack.” Unnecessarily, he added, “We’d reach our destination only to blow up thirteen seconds later.”
“What’s the problem?” Justine asked, and endured the harried look Michael gave her.
He scratched at the stubble growing on his jaw. “There’s some kind of delay—about seven seconds—between the generator and the Kinemetic damper. With the five additional seconds it takes for the generator to build up enough power to engage the dampers, that won’t give you time enough to rematerialize from a quantized state and start the generator in the first place.”
Justine laughed, almost too loud, in relieved surprise.
“What?” Michael said.
“There’s no re-materialization on my end,” she said. “That’s the missing piece of the puzzle. I’m fully conscious and aware during quantization. I can start the generator instantly once we arrive. Alex—and the other test candidates—were never fully transformed into a Kinemat, and had no awareness in the quantized state. Seven seconds may not be ideal, but it is more than enough time.”
Michael stood there dumbfounded for a moment, then snapped out of it. “All right, then. I’ll get Kenny to map the control functions to your console. He’ll have to give you a rundown, since it’s a patchwork of commands—”
Justine cut him off.
“Damn,” she said. “They’re not even going to try to parley.”
“What?”
She grimaced. “I can sense a quantity of Kinemet hurtling toward us at high velocity. They’ve launched a missile.”
“Warning shot?” Michael said.
“Can’t chance it,” she said, her voice tight. “Can we engage the quantum drive now?”
Looking off screen a moment, probably at Kenny, Michael finally shook his head. “At least five minutes to finish mapping the controls.”
“We’ll be atoms in two.”
Michael said something more to her, but Justine didn’t hear it. She shut all physical awareness from her mind, and concentrated on pushing her sight out toward the oncoming ship.
At the speed the radar estimated the missile was traveling—a little over one-hundred kilometers per second— it would breach the distance between her outer limit of sight to the Ultio in less than two seconds.
There was a chance she could sense it the moment it came within range of her sight, and if her reaction time was quick enough, she might be able to detonate the warhead before the reacting Kinemet got too close and triggered their own cache of the metal.
She waited … and waited…
Like a lightning strike, the Kinemet burst into her awareness, and for a split-second, she faltered and thought she had missed her chance.
Desperately, she sent her electropathic sense on an intercept course with the missile.
The radar on her holoslate blanked as it was overloaded with feedback.
For a moment, she wondered if she had failed.
Then the Ultio bucked like an angry bronco, and Justine was flung hard into the bank of controls. The bulkhead screamed and the diagnostic console lit up as hundreds of sensors reported the sudden change in conditions.
“What the hell just happened?” someone screamed through the comlink.
“How’s the Kinemet?” Justine called back, holding her hand to the side of her head and struggling back into the pilot’s chair.
“Fine.” Michael appeared on the comlink, wide-eyed. “Did you just do what I think you did?”
“Yeah,” Justine said, still breathing hard. “One warhead destroyed.”
“You all right?” he asked.
She nodded, though her head rang from the movement. “But as soon as they realize their missile didn’t blow us to space junk, they’ll launch two at a time.” She shook her head, wincing. “I can’t stop two.”
Glancing off screen once more, Michael said, “All right. Kenny just finished the final mapping. Check your console. He’s labeled all the commands for you. One to start the generator. Another to engage the damper.”
“Sounds simple enough,” she said, and then sent her sight back out.
After a minute, she saw what she had feared.
“They’ve launched two missiles. They really want us dead.” She did a quick mental calculation. There was most likely less than five seconds before the missiles impacted with their ship.
…four…
“Kenny,” Michael called out immediately. “Are we clear to engage the Drive?”
…three…
“Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding muffled. “I labeled it ‘GO.’ ”
…two…
Without further prompting, Justine reached her finger toward the haptic console and tapped the command button and—
…ONE…
—the universe shifted.
35
Partial Entry From Omnipedia :
Subject: Alpha Centauri :
Alpha Centauri is a binary star system averaging 4.37 light years from the Sun. The distance between the two stars varies during their 79.91 year orbit. A third star, Proxima Centauri, lays about .21 light years from the Alpha Centau
ri stars, and the three companions are sometimes referred to as a triple star system, though it is not determined whether Proxima Centauri is gravitationally bound with Alpha Centauri A and B.
Due to the significant gravitational effects of the system, no gas giant planets have formed. There is evidence that one or more minor planetoids or comets may have found their way into the system at some point, and may be orbiting at the outer rim of the system.
In 2095, the first attempt to travel to Alpha Centauri failed. Though the light speed ship Quanta completed the journey, a mishap upon arrival in our neighboring system resulted in the destruction of the vessel. The pilot, Captain Alex Manez, survived in an escape pod and returned to our system in mid-2103.
Tap for more…
36
Alien Space Port :
Alpha Centauri :
Four Years Later
—After an eternity of drifting in the purgatory between the material world and the unreality of the quantized state of being, Alex was abruptly ripped back to his corporeal self.
He screamed. The pain tore through his very essence. It was as if every atom in his body had exploded. He couldn’t take the agony—
—and in the nanosecond before he passed out, he welcomed the oncoming blanket of oblivion.
∞
Eons later, or moments for all he knew, reality crashed back in as Alex once more regained consciousness. He could feel a bed under him. There was a musty smell wafting up, and a natural brightness permeated his eyelids. He was in his human state.
Disoriented, he tried to sit up, but gentle hands pushed him back down.
“Easy, now,” a voice whispered in his ear.
Alex tried to speak, but he couldn’t move the muscles in his jaw to open his mouth. He let out a groan.
“Give yourself some time,” someone said. It was a woman, and the voice was familiar. Justine. What is she doing here?
“You’ve been gone for a long time,” she said.
He tried to open his eyes, but they were lidded shut. He managed to open his mouth finally, and this time was able to croak out a question. “What happened?”
Music of the Spheres (The Interstellar Age Book 2) Page 26