by Mark Wandrey
“Dervish had three stars.”
“Yes, and all in close proximity.”
“So that’s why you say impossible,” Minu nodded.
“That is only one reason.” Lilith removed a tablet from her belt and let it float in her zero-gravity bubble, turning it to face her mother.
“We were here” – the galaxy came alive, an area of space identified with a tiny animated flashing reticle. “And this is where we are now.”
Another reticle flashed to life a surprising distance from the first one. A line connected the two and information appeared. ‘4,765 LY.’
“Nearly five thousand light-years?” Minu gasped.
“Yes,” Lilith confirmed. “Forty-seven times farther than the tactical drive is capable of taking us.”
“How long did it take?”
“After I completed the computer restart, I consulted the ship’s internal clock and confirmed that the elapsed time was less than five minutes.”
“So multiple jumps are out of the question as well?”
“Correct.”
Minu bit her lower lip and stared at the gently glowing dais. She knew from experience it took a few minutes for each one hundred light-year jump, minimum. And sometimes much more if there were nearby spacial disturbances.
The drive wasn’t really designed for long range travel, as Lilith had described it, but to quickly insert the ship within a star system for lightning attacks. Thus its name, ‘tactical drive’. It appeared just about every rule in the book had been broken here. Distance, time, and proximity to a gravity well.
“How did you get the drive to activate, then?”
“That is the final question,” Lilith told her “I never programmed the jump.”
“Could some aspect of the ship have done it itself?”
“The computer was overloaded and shut down before the tactical drive was ever activated. Besides, it takes a human operator to initiate a tactical jump.”
“So yet another impossibility.”
“That is why I asked you to come down, mother. You have held discussions with the Weavers before.”
“Go on.”
“I was hoping you could ask it what happened.”
Minu sighed. She’d been afraid her daughter was going to go there. Pip had taken over all relations with the extra-dimensional beings years ago. Not only was he the only one they would talk to, he also seemed to have more of a knack for it.
The Weavers didn’t talk with you, so much as at you. Lacking any sense of time, it was like carrying on a conversation with a textbook. And a poorly written one, at that.
“I can try, Lilith, but you have to understand that they are extremely difficult to speak to.”
“I know that, mom. But you do have a history with them.”
She nodded, as this much was true. Years ago in a desperate situation she’d somehow convinced them to help her with some ancient codes to unlock a special Portal. They had burned the information in her head, making her sort of a savant when it came to Lost codes and cyphers.
“What are you hoping for from them?”
“Answers. How did they do this special jump? Can they do it again? And who told them to do it?”
“Is it that important right now? Can’t we just get back home and worry about it later?”
“That is part of the problem. We were taken in exactly the opposite direction from Bellatrix. Even at top speed it would take us more than six months to get home. I could do it in four, but I’d have to transect right through the middle of two higher-order species’ territories.”
“And we know they all have starships now.”
“Correct,” Lilith nodded. “The battle almost exhausted my supply of sub-fusion ship-killer missiles and decoy drones. There exists the possibility of replenishment at a firebase somewhere, but none are in this quadrant of the galaxy.”
“I understand,” Minu said and turned to face the Portal. “I’ll see what I can do.”
* * *
Minu floated in the swirling ethereal mist and waited for it to show up. After an unknown amount of time passed, it did. A strange crab-like being with eight complicated limbs, four with frightening pincers that seemed to go on dividing until her brain itched. It regarded her with eyes that she knew saw things she could only scream about in her worst nightmares.
“I have come to ask questions,” she spoke with more confidence than she felt. It had been years since she’d last faced one of the Weavers, and she felt no better for the time. She’d just as soon it be never again.
“You always have questions. We prefer the continuum where you are more knowledgeable.”
“Wait, continuum is a construct involving time. You understand our concepts of time?”
“The one known as Pip has helped us to work within your limited dimensional paradox by introducing the theory of a continuum of space, and how this section of continuum relates to your limited existence.”
Minu couldn’t help but think she’d somehow been put in her place, but she couldn’t decide how that had just happened. Perhaps Pip had succeeded in some way after all. It would redeem him in another way after he’d disastrously inserted himself as the negotiator between the universe and the Weavers for their control of the Portals.
She decided that telling them the truth was best, especially since they appeared all but omnipotent.
“Pip is dead now in this continuum.”
“One aspect of the being known as Pip no longer exists in that continuum.” Had it agreed with her? She couldn’t make up her mind. “His last offer of sustenance proved woefully inadequate. We wish to discuss that with him.”
“As I said, he is dead and I cannot help that.” Silence. “Will you answer my questions?”
“We will consider your questions.”
“Better than nothing, I guess.” She took a breath and soldiered on. “Who gave the order to initiate the tactical drive on this vessel?”
“Pip.”
Minu made a face. “Who made the calculations?”
“Pip.”
“But…” she decided not to try. “Okay, then how were you able to initiate the drive so close to the stars of the Dervish system?”
“Pip provided additional data.”
She felt herself starting to lose her patience. “And how did we jump so far so quickly? Let me guess, Pip?”
“That is correct. He convinced us, much like you did in another continuum, to overlook your own rules for Portal operation in a special situation.” There was a short pause. “We do not understand why you ask these questions if you already know the answers. Why not address them to the being Pip?”
Minu was suddenly glad her dream self didn’t have a weapon, and then regretted the thought, knowing the Weaver would read her mind. When it didn’t react, she decided the creature ignored the hollow threat and continued: “Then can you perform another one of these super-jumps and take us back to Bellatrix?”
“Ask Pip to provide us the calculations.”
Minu hissed in frustration and pushed herself backwards. A moment later she was looking up from where she sat on the dais into Lilith’s green eyes floating nearby. “How did it go?”
“About like I suspected,” she spat. After calming herself, she explained to Lilith how the conversation had proceeded.
“We can only assume that Pip provided some sort of calculations before he was killed in the battle with the T’Chillen and convinced the Weavers to use them.” Lilith’s logic was mostly sound.
“Then why won’t they do it again?” Minu countered.
“That I cannot say.”
“Okay,” Minu said finally, “we’re not going to get anywhere with the damn space crabs. Let’s get some rest – and you get yourself to the medical bay. After you’ve been given a clean bill of health, we’ll meet in the CIC and go over our options.”
Chapter 63
June 16th, 534 AE
Deep Space
There was a small blood
stain on one padded wall of the CIC that Minu noticed before their meeting began. Other than that, there was no evidence of the events from the previous day. Lilith’s face was a sickening hue of brown and yellow, but the eye was no longer swollen closed. Some proof she was capable of following orders after all.
Kal’at sported a dualloy support device on his leg with electronics that flashed status lights as it knitted his leg bone. According to the medical intelligence, the only remaining passenger under its care was the Ranger with the broken neck. He would be released in another three hours, none the worse for wear.
“Let’s start with you, Lilith,” Minu opened the meeting. Present were her daughter, herself, her husband, Kal’at, and the Ranger sergeant Selain. “How’s the ship doing?”
“Some of the damage will only able to be repaired with the assistance of a pressurized, zero gravity maintenance facility. Call it an orbital dry dock.”
“We don’t have one of those.”
“No,” agreed Aaron, “but I’ve been talking with Lilith and I’m pretty sure Groves Industries can get something together that will be sufficient.”
“That’s good to hear,” Minu said and looked back to her daughter. “So can we continue to operate until then?”
“Yes. The hull damage was severe, but I have isolated those affected systems and erected temporary forcefields to reinforce some of the damaged sections. Aside from the nearly depleted stores of combat consumables, all other repairs have been completed.”
“Good to hear. All right,” Minu raised her voice to address everyone. “During the battle at Dervish, we were somehow transported some forty-seven hundred light-years across the galaxy, roughly away from home.”
“More of a tangent away,” Lilith corrected, and Minu nodded in consent.
“Some of you might not understand the nature of our problem.”
Minu was offering this largely for the benefit of Selain and his men, though it didn’t hurt to have it all out in the open as well.
“This ship’s top speed is fifteen thousand times the speed of light. We cannot make a direct course back because territory belonging to two higher-order species lies between here and home, so our course would actually cover more than seven thousand light-years. Six months, minimum. As Lilith mentioned, we are not really in fighting trim, and are almost out of ammo anyway.
“We are uncertain how this distance was covered, or why. The ship’s tactical drive is complicated and follows some very specific rules of operation. Our jump to here seems to have violated just about all of those rules.
“This problem aside, we can’t use the tactical drive to return. It really isn’t practical. More than fifty jumps would be needed, and an unknown amount of time between each jump. Some of those rules for use of the drive also state that it should not be used in this manner.”
“Begging your pardon, commander,” the sergeant spoke up, “but those rules seem somewhat moot in relation to us getting here, can’t we just ignore it and get back the fastest way possible?”
Minu glanced at Lilith and lifted an eyebrow. Her daughter answered the question. “The People wrote the rules to avoid any ‘incidents’ while using the tactical drive. Some of these rules state that the side effects of abuse of the tactical drive could be bad. And I believe they meant bad on a scale beyond just the ship violating the rules.”
“I guess I just don’t understand, ma’am. Sorry.”
“That is okay,” Lilith said and nodded to the soldier, “I’m not sure I understand either.”
“I’ve decided it best to follow the proscribed rules for using the drive, even if it seems to violate those rules when it sees fit,’ Minu continued.
“Damn thing almost acts like it’s intelligent,” Selain mumbled. Only Aaron was close enough to hear him, and he wished he could tell the man just how right he was.
“Lilith and I have talked it over, and the only practical solution is to part ways, at least temporarily. There is a planet only a dozen light-years away with a Portal humans have visited once a long time ago. Ironically, it was my father who’d been there.”
It had taken her several hours of searching with her father’s journal to locate the world. He’d named it Wiggin (she didn’t know why), and other than noting it was a dead end of a Portal network and that he’d left a cache there, no other details existed.
“We are going to disembark there and travel via Portal to Jumpoff and link up with the other Rangers and then return to Bellatrix. Lilith will travel back via the safest route possible and hopefully stop at an old depot and rearm.”
“By herself?” Aaron asked, a little surprised.
“No, Kal’at will travel along.”
“It could be risky moving through some of the star systems this Portal route follows,” Kal’at put in. “Risky for humans to be spotted with a Rasa, and for me to be spotted at all.”
“His species is still under a death order by the Concordia,” Mini reminded them. “I can’t risk him. Besides, it will give Lilith some help if she needs it, and some company.”
Her daughter had insisted she needed neither. Minu had originally intended to stay behind herself, but her daughter steadfastly refused. She pointed out, and rightly so, that the leader of the rescue expedition to Planet K needed to return with them back to Bellatrix. Besides, Minu realized she was looking forward to a little discussion with Jacob.
“Sergeant, brief your detachment on the situation and begin preparing them to disembark in eight hours. Lilith will have the ship synthesize any missing gear and provide us with rations enough to make it back home. We have a lot of work to do, so let’s get to it.”
Chapter 64
June 18th, 534 AE
Wiggin Star System, Gulla Territory
As soon as the Kaatan dropped out of supra-luminal travel, Minu felt her tension levels begin to rise. It was against her personal rules to antagonize a higher ranking species that wasn’t trying to kill her, and trespassing with a starship in the system belonging to the Gulla could definitely be considered an antagonistic act. She hadn’t seen any evidence that species outside of the higher-order group possessed starships. At the same time, it wasn’t that long ago when she’d believed no species possessed starships, and that had proven to be very wrong indeed.
Minu instructed Lilith to enter the system with as much stealth as possible, dropping out of supra-luminal travel hours outside the system and coasting in below the speed of light. It took almost forty-eight hours to slip into orbit, using that method, around the world Chriso Alma had named Wiggin, but by the time they orbited the planet the first time, Lilith was certain they were alone.
“Only a powerful planet-based listening post could detect our presence,” Lilith assured Minu. “And based on your fathers observations many years ago, no such installations exist here.”
Chriso’s notes spoke of an ancient mining operation with indications of sporadic use by the Gulla; a tiny village meant to house workers when the facility was in operation. He’d said it appeared to have been abandoned for decades when he was last there.
“The only starship capable of evading my detection would be a Tog stealth frigate,” Lilith further explained.
Minu was forced to admit it was possible one was hidden within the clouds of one of the three gas giants in the system, or maybe the extensive Oort cloud. At the same time, there was nothing she could do about it if there was. The Tog were unlikely to inform on their own wards to the Gulla, despite their dislike of the fact that humanity was expanding beyond their control.
“No signs of energy emanations from the planet?”
“Only small ones. They are likely either equipment left in dormant modes by the Gulla mining crews, or natural background readings.”
“I guess there is nothing more to it then,” Minu admitted and turned to her daughter in the CIC. “The shuttle is loaded and we’re ready. The sooner we’re off, the sooner you can get back into deep space.”
“I agree, mothe
r.”
Minu stepped closer and looked at her daughter. The girl – no, the woman – was slightly taller than her but with the same copper hair and her father’s brown eyes. Like her mother, her face was so angular as to be almost triangular, with cheekbones as sharp as cut glass. To Minu’s surprise, a tear was forming in Lilith’s eye.
“What’s wrong? It’s only for a few months.”
“I will miss the birth of my sibling,” Lilith said, and a little sob escaped, surprising her. Emotional displays were rare with her, and they were usually violent in nature, not tender.
Minu stepped into the zero gravity bubble and took her daughter into her arms. Lilith returned the embrace without hesitation. It was a growth in her that made Minu start to cry as well. Aaron stood a little bit away, understanding this was a mother-daughter moment.
After a few minutes of holding each other, they separated. Minu used the sleeve of her black Chosen jumpsuit to wipe her daughter’s tears, who did the same for Minu, making her chuckle.
“Like mother like daughter.”
“I guess you are correct,” Lilith said.
“Don’t give up hope,” Minu told her and put a hand on her abdomen, “I’m not due for six months, February next year. You could well make it in time.”
“I will be there, then.”
Minu stopped and pointed a finger at the young woman. “Now listen here, you will not take any shortcuts through contested or higher-order species territory.”
Lilith stared back deadpan.
“That is an order, young lady.”
“I acknowledge your order, Chosen.”
Lilith reached out and took Minu’s hand.
“There is danger in your trek as well. Exercise caution. That is an order from your daughter.”
“I acknowledge the order,” Minu smiled and held out a hand for Aaron. He joined them and they all held hands in a circle for a long moment.