by Ryk Brown
“We denounced Jung society years ago,” Reto said. “I, for one, do not wish to spend the rest of my days among them. Is there no chance of return?”
“Chance? Perhaps,” the commander replied. “I do not wish to give you any false hopes. Truthfully, at this time, there is no plan in place for retrieval. However, the device that gets you on to Nor-Patri, could theoretically get you back off the surface as well.”
“And what is this device?” Reto asked.
“The same one that delivered Lieutenant Commander Nash and her team to Kohara,” Commander Telles replied as the display table behind him lit up. He stepped aside, revealing a rotating holographic image of a small submarine. “We call it a ‘jump sub’. It is a Terran submarine, originally designed to transfer up to six persons, or cargo, between deep-sea complexes and the surface. Fitted with jump drives, they can deliver two occupants into a large body of water on a world as far as two light years away. We will use a jump cargo shuttle modified to carry the jump sub to its launch point, placing it on the proper course and speed. The sub will jump to Nor-Patri, coming out of its jump under the surface of one of the planet’s oceans. After that, it is only a matter of driving the sub to the shore, leaving it at the bottom, and swimming the rest of the way in.”
“And this sub can, theoretically, get us back?” Reto did not sound convinced.
“Their jump drives will have enough energy stored to complete two, straight-line, fixed-length jumps of two light years each. Theoretically, you could return to the sub, drive her toward the surface at the proper angle, and jump from under the surface, to a point two light years away, in space. The challenge would be in coordinating your retrieval. Since communications between you and Alliance Command would most likely be one way, even if you got word out that you needed retrieval, you would have no way of being certain that your request was received. If it was not, then you would die in space.”
Reto exchanged looks of concern with his comrades, then looked back at the commander. “And why would we do this?”
“For the same reason that you denounced the Jung,” Lieutenant Commander Bowden said. “For the same reason you suffered the agony of nanite cleansing. And for the same reason you fought alongside me on Kohara for all those years. Because you believe that Jung dominance must come to an end.”
Reto looked at Lieutenant Commander Bowden, the man who had been his leader in the Koharan underground. The man who had believed them when they had denounced the Jung and asked for his help. He took a deep breath, then looked at Commander Telles. “How long do we have to prepare?”
“Three days.”
“Why so soon?”
“I would have you go now, but we need time to train you.”
“And you think three days will be enough?”
“We cannot afford to take any longer,” the commander explained. “If the data point network becomes operational before your arrival, your chances of success drop dramatically.”
Reto sighed. “Then perhaps we should get started, sir.”
A smile crept onto the commander’s face.
* * *
Jessica walked quietly into the small room her father had added onto their modest home for baby Ania. Her parents had jumped at the chance to adopt the orphaned child, not only for the infant’s sake, but for the sake of their daughter. It had torn Jessica apart to see her friend die, just when Synda had finally found happiness. Knowing that her friend’s only surviving child, Ania, would grow up surrounded by people who cared for her, was almost enough to keep Jessica going.
Almost.
But the loss of Nathan was too much for her. Everyone was telling her to move on, to respect Nathan’s sacrifice for the unselfish act that it was. He had singlehandedly brought an end to the war, saving billions of lives in a single moment. But it was unfair. The Jung had brought their destruction upon themselves. Not one of the worlds they had conquered had posed a threat to them. Not one. The one world that had come the closest was Earth itself, and only because they had learned of the presence of the Jung, and did not wish to become enslaved, as well. What right did the Jung Empire have to demand Nathan’s surrender as recompense for the Alliance’s retaliatory attack on their homeworld?
No, she could not accept it.
Jessica stood there for the longest time, watching baby Ania asleep in her crib. Every fiber in her being told her to hold the child close to her heart, and protect it with her life. But she still had work to do, despite the admiral’s attempt to isolate her on Porto Santo Island. She would find a way to take action, or to rally others to take action on their own. Nathan would have done no less for her.
Jessica turned and headed back out of the room and into the living room. She moved over to the table and picked up the remote, activating the view screen on the wall. Using the remote, she scrolled through selections on the screen, finally finding the contact she was looking for. The screen beeped several times as the comm-system attempted to make a connection. In short order, her call was answered.
“NAU Capital Exchange. How may I direct your call?” the voice inquired.
“This is Lieutenant Commander Jessica Nash, of the Sol-Pentaurus Alliance. I wish to speak to President Scott.”
“One moment, Lieutenant Commander.”
A moment later, another voice came on the line. “Lieutenant Commander Nash, your identification code, please,” a male voice requested.
“Alpha five one seven five, tango two one seven one, foxtrot two five seven five.”
“One moment.”
Jessica waited patiently, glancing out the window, half expecting a security squad to show up at any moment.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the voice finally continued. “The president is not able to take your call.”
“Unable, or unwilling,” Jessica mumbled.
“Sir?”
“How about his aide, Miranda Thornton?”
“She is also unavailable at the moment. Would you like her to return your call when she is free?” the man inquired politely.
“Yes, please,” Jessica replied, knowing full well that a return call was unlikely.
“I will pass the message on to her, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”
“Negative,” Jessica replied, disconnecting the call. Jessica sighed. She would call again tomorrow, and the next day, and every day thereafter, until someone responded, or until the commander ordered her to stop calling. Even then, she would most likely continue.
After all, Nathan would have done the same for her.
* * *
It was the first time he had been allowed to wear his uniform since his surrender. It had been cleaned and neatly pressed, and it looked as crisp as if it had come directly from the Aurora’s laundry.
Nathan wondered why the Jung had chosen to have him in uniform for his appearance. His question had been answered the moment he saw the dress uniforms of the Jung officers as he was led into the courtroom. Black, with red and gold piping, adorned with all manner of medals and embroidery. Even with the gold trim, his dress grays paled in comparison. The Jung were masters of propaganda, a fact the Alliance had learned from the Koharans.
Nathan was led down the center aisle of the grand courtroom. It was a massive, circular room, with rows of seats filled with spectators who surrounded the center arena, stretching upward so that every seat had a clear view of the proceedings. In the middle of the room, twelve men in robes sat evenly spaced around the perimeter. On the next inward level, there were several desks and chairs, at which sat various legal teams. Finally, in the center, at the lowest point in the room, was what Nathan thought of as ‘the pit’. It was here that the guards led him.
Nathan stepped down into the pit. The guards stepped back, and a restraining field shimmered to life. After a few seconds, the field stabiliz
ed and the shimmering stopped. Nathan looked at the hatred in the eyes of those in attendance. He hoped the shield worked both ways.
A man in uniform stood at one of the desks and stepped out toward Nathan. He turned to face each of the men in robes—men who Nathan perceived to be judges—as he spoke. A few seconds after the man began to speak, a voice began speaking to Nathan in near-perfect English. He looked around, wondering where the translation was coming from, but saw no one he could recognize as speaking. Either it was being piped into the pit from a translator located outside of the courtroom, or it was being translated by a computer. Either way, the words were ominous.
“The Empire charges Captain Nathan Scott, formerly of the Earth Defense Force, and currently of the Sol-Pentaurus Alliance, with attempted genocide.”
The room exploded with cheers. The show had begun.
CHAPTER THREE
Reto stepped up to the access tube in the floor, put one foot forward, and stepped off, falling down into the smooth, narrow tunnel. The artificial gravity of the specially outfitted boxcar, that was now on course for the Jung homeworld, pulled Reto downward into the access tube. As he passed through the lower section of the tube, the effects of the boxcar’s artificial gravity lessened, and his brief acceleration ceased, leaving him coasting downward at a comfortable pace.
Moments later, Reto found himself entering the docking bay, feet first. He passed through the small bay, and his feet touched the top of the jump sub’s black hull. Now in a weightless environment, he easily maneuvered himself, passing through the jump sub’s narrow topside hatch and down into the tiny ship.
The inside of the jump sub was cramped, with barely enough space for two men, in addition to the equipment they required to get from the small, jump-enabled submarine to the shore once they reached their destination. Reto entered feet first, turning so that his feet pointed forward as he lowered into the ship. He pulled himself into the pilot’s seat, then reached back and released the seat latch, allowing the back of the seat to spring back upright, making room for the passenger.
Reto tapped the side of his comm-set. “I’m in.” Moments later, Armin descended into the seat behind him. He reached up and activated the hatch control, and the inner hatch slid closed, sealing with a slight hiss of compressed air. A clanging sound followed as the outer hatch did the same. Armin glanced at the pressure display on the side wall to his left. “Hatches are closed and locked. Internal pressure is good. You’re clear to retract the docking bay.”
“Copy, clear to retract,” the voice replied over their comm-sets.
They heard another clang. Reto looked through the tiny porthole directly over his head and watched as the docking collar rose away from them, retracting back toward the underside of the modified boxcar.
“Last jump in ten seconds,” the voice announced over their comm-sets.
“All systems show ready,” Reto reported, after quickly scanning his control console. The rebuilt jump sub’s control console was much the same as it had been during its time as a transfer sub in Earth’s oceans. The only notable difference was the jump drive control interface, which was nothing more than a small touch screen mounted along the top edge of the console. Controlled by a computer in the aft compartment, the interface was a status display, and a button that read ‘jump’. It was simple enough to operate; the hard part would be trusting the technology to jump them from the outer edges of the Jung home system, across two full light years of space, and place them a few hundred meters under the surface of one of Nor-Patri’s many oceans. Everything had to be exact. Their course, their speed…and the empty space between them and their destination. Anything bigger than a human head would cause the jump fields to fail, and allow the object to slam into them. They would not survive such an impact.
Of course, if it did happen, neither of them would ever know it. Death would be instantaneous. No one would know what had happened to them, as their ship would likely be vaporized by the combination of the kinetic energy of the impact and the sudden destabilization of the jump fields. There would be guesses as to their final fate, but no physical evidence.
If that were not enough reason for any man to refuse the journey, the oceans of Nor-Patri, while numerous, were nowhere near as large as the oceans of Earth, requiring an even greater degree of accuracy. From such a distance, a single thousandth of a degree could cause their tiny ship to slam into solid ground, resulting in a noticeable impact event on the Jung homeworld…one that would be difficult to explain as there would be little to no proof of their ship’s existence.
Reto tried not to think of the myriad of ways that their lives could come to an end in the next sixty seconds.
Sixty seconds. He had never understood the Terran system of measuring time. Sixty seconds in a minute. Sixty minutes in an hour. But then, for some strange reason, twenty-four hours in a day. Even Kohara had a similar system for measuring the passing of time. The Jung method, being base ten, was so much easier.
“Jump complete,” the voice reported. “Releasing docking clamps.”
As their ship was released and began to separate from the boxcar, Reto briefly thought about the other jump sub, being delivered from the opposite side of the Jung system in a few hours. The two men in that ship, just like Armin sitting behind him, had been his friends for the last fifteen years. In Reto’s mind, the hardest part about this mission, was the fact that he would likely never see his friends again.
“Course and speed are right on target,” the controller from the boxcar stated. “Out of short-range secure comms in twenty seconds. Good luck, gentlemen.”
“Thanks,” Reto replied. A bright flash of blue-white light lit up the small portholes on the jump sub, briefly filling the interior with its ghostly glow. Reto looked outside after the flash subsided. As expected, the boxcar that had jumped them deep into Jung space and placed them on what they hoped was a perfect intercept trajectory, was now gone. Reto sighed. “There’s no turning back now, Armin.” He looked warily at the jump button. His mind was filled with trepidation. Pushing the button could mean an instantaneous death. However, not pushing the button meant slow, lingering death, in the bitter cold of space.
“Let’s do it,” Armin urged him from the back seat.
“Activating the jump sequencer,” Reto announced as he pressed the button. “Jumping in five……four……three……two……one……”
Both men closed their eyes tightly as the jump flash filled the cramped interior of the jump sub. They were thrown forward against their restraints, the straps digging into their shoulders and waists as the jump sub suddenly transitioned from the void of deep space to the oceans of Nor-Patri. They had been traveling at only a few meters per second when they had jumped…practically a standstill by comparison. But it had been more than enough. It was an abrupt arrival to say the least, but at least they had made it…alive.
The resistance of the water brought them to a stop, and the tension on their restraints eased. Reto glanced at the console. “Three hundred thirty-seven meters.” He activated the sub’s propulsion and navigation systems, as well as its terrain and obstacle avoidance sensors. The ship began to move forward. “Propulsion and navigation are online. Time to debarkation point; four hours and twenty-seven minutes, Terran time.”
“Guess that’s the last time we’ll be using the Terran clock,” Armin commented.
Reto smiled. They had done what most would not believe possible, and had survived. However, there were still many more ways for them to die, both under the water, and once they made it to dry land.
Their mission had only just begun.
* * *
Jessica stood in the nursery, staring at baby Ania asleep in her crib. As she watched the infant breathe, she heard a creak from the door behind her. She turned slightly to see who was entering. Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open, as she saw
Nathan entering the room. “I thought you were in a Jung prison cell?” she whispered in shock.
“They let me out for good behavior,” Nathan replied in hushed tones, as he quietly closed the door behind him.
“What?”
“I’m kidding, Jess.” Nathan walked over to stand next to her. “I broke out. Killed the guard with my bare hands, just like you would have.”
“What?” Jessica repeated, still in complete disbelief.
“I’m kidding again, Jess. This is a dream. I’m not really here. You’re not really here.” Nathan looked around the room, a puzzled look on his face. “To be honest, I’m not even sure where here is. What is this place? It looks like a twelve year-old girl’s bedroom.”
Jessica also looked around, realizing for the first time that she was not in the nursery her father had added onto their Porto Santo home for baby Ania. “Wait a minute. This is my room. I mean, it was my room, when I was twelve.”
“Interesting,” Nathan commented as he looked around. “I wonder what you looked like at that age. Did you already have… You know…” Nathan cupped his hands in front of his chest, as if holding a pair of breasts.
“Watch it, or I’ll wake up and you’ll be back in a Jung prison cell.” Jessica looked at Ania again. “Besides, there’s a child present.”
“How is she doing?” Nathan asked, embarrassed that he had not yet asked.
“She’s fine,” Jessica replied. “She’s lucky. She’s so young, she’ll probably never remember anything, not even her real parents.”
“But you’ll tell her, right?”
“Of course I’ll tell her,” Jessica replied. “When she’s older. She should know the truth…especially about the Jung.”
“Are you sure about that?” Nathan wondered.
“My parents never hid anything from us when we were growing up, and I’m not going to hide anything from Ania, either.”