Fundamental Force Episode One

by Albert Sartison

  “Just tell him you couldn’t find me.”

  Clive took Steve by the arm and pulled him the other way.

  “I can’t do that!”

  “So what’s all the hurry about?”

  The roar of turbines could suddenly be heard overhead as a small ship, painted in the dark grey of the space fleet, appeared from behind the façades of the old buildings on the other side of the lake. It passed over them, throttled back to low thrust, did a half-turn and slowed down somewhere above the building of the astronomy and astrophysics faculty. Its silhouette could be seen through the sparse trees as it smoothly came in to land. Once it had landed, the turbine noise soon faded to nothing.

  “You can see why...”

  “You mean that’s come for us?”

  “It looks like it.”

  Steve sighed in disappointment. There would be no pancakes with vanilla custard for him today.

  Shelby was standing next to the ship and discussing something with one of the officers.

  “There you are at last!” he said, nodding to the officer, in whose hands appeared a small instrument with a black antenna. It looked like a metal detector. Without saying a word, he passed it in front of and behind Clive and Steve, scanning their bodies.

  “It’s a security measure,” explained Shelby.

  After completing the scan, the officer nodded approvingly.

  “All clear.”

  They sat inside the small yet spacious-looking passenger compartment and unbuttoned their coats while the officer who had scanned them closed the outside door. The plane’s engines started up again, raising a mighty storm of dust, grass and yellow leaves from where it had landed.

  The façade of the faculty buildings and the tops of the trees floated past the porthole. Gradually gaining speed, the plane rose sharply.

  “I am consulting with MacQueen in connection with the Gliese flight project,” began Shelby. “I think you will have guessed that already. But there’s something else interesting that has been kept secret. Until yesterday. Did you see the evening debate with the President?”

  Clive and Steve both shook their heads.

  “In that case, you will be interested to learn that the military has an experimental space travel technology by which we can reach the Gliese system in three weeks.”

  “Twenty light years in three weeks? You mean they’ve discovered the secret of the aliens’ portals?”

  “You could put it that way. We have theoretical models of the physical principle and they look quite convincing. As we now know for certain, the portals changed the structure of space-time by threads of Planck-length thickness, but this principle does not work anymore.

  “When it became clear that this was a dead-end technology, the study was wound up. It was no longer suitable for creating portals. But the new way is based on different principles.”

  “It’s strange that I haven’t heard anything about these studies,” said Clive in surprise.

  “There’s nothing strange about it. These studies were not made publicly accessible. By the way, I should warn you that unauthorized revelation of the details carries a penalty of life imprisonment. I am telling you about this because your former status allowing you access to secret information has been restored.”

  “All the same, it’s not clear how this portal would work using the secret technology,” said Clive.

  “You can ask technical questions when we arrive at the Lunar Base. The portal is controlled from there. You’ll see what’s what with your own eyes.”

  “And have they restored unlimited credit too?” asked Clive.

  Shelby laughed.

  “For where the journey is going this time, credit will not be needed.”

  “Do you want us to join the expedition?” asked Clive.

  Shelby nodded.

  “Do you have any objection?”

  “How long will we be away?” asked Steve.

  “The estimate for the whole expedition is twelve weeks.”

  “As little as that?”

  “The military authorities believe that will be long enough. As I said, the one-way journey itself lasts three weeks. We start from the Lunar Base, then two weeks to reach a safe distance from the inner planets. After that the portal opens and the whole group jumps to the Gliese system. This will take no more than a few minutes. The rest of the time will be spent reaching a point from which we can make contact and conduct negotiations.

  “We shall have six weeks to settle everything, after which the group will set the opposite course and a week later will be far enough away from the aliens to make a jump safely again. The portal will reopen and transport us back to the Solar System. Another two weeks and we’ll be home.”

  “But why all the hurry?”

  “Two versions of the project were produced initially. A flight of 20 light years for our ships by the classic method would take a little over a hundred years. The people who flew would have to be prepared to leave the Solar System forever. They would be in a similar position to the first Mars colonists, except that contact with Earth from where they were would be impossible.

  “In parallel with this project, the military experimented with a new high-speed travel technology. Today they have advanced far enough for us to try to use not the initial plan, but the quicker version. The public only knew about the first version. Until yesterday, when the president revealed that we had the new portal technology in an open broadcast. Now that everyone knows, we have to set off as soon as possible.”

  “Why?”

  “For security reasons. It will not be a mini-portal. It will stretch across space for several light hours, which means that everyone who knows the coordinates and vector will be able to fly to Gliese. It is too large a sector of space for the Fleet to monitor it and prevent such attempts. Therefore, we are starting as soon as we can, so as not to let third parties jump into Gliese along with the official expedition. The less time the preparations take, the less chance of unauthorized use of the portal.”

  “Are you talking about pirates?”

  “No, at least not primarily. They are too poorly equipped. It’s more a matter of various industrial groups of interests that would like to use the portal to reach Gliese. They have sufficient resources to do that sort of thing. The military think that is too great a risk.”

  “But why do they need to do it?”

  “Business, what else?”

  “What business could they have in Gliese?”

  Shelby laughed.

  “Just wait till we’ve made contact, Steve. Five or so years later, you will see how many opportunities exist there. The military have no reliable information on the exact plans, but what they have discovered clearly points to the activities of certain very influential economic groups who are collecting data to this end. And for security reasons, we cannot allow anyone else, with unclear intentions, to be in Gliese apart from the official expedition. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Why us in particular?”

  “You must be joking, Steve,” said the professor in surprise. “Your role in the first contact and in the second one too... You are now doomed to be linked to all such projects for evermore. That is a cross you’ll have to bear for the rest of your life.”

  The ship was flying at an altitude of several thousand feet. Far below, a few clouds floated by, throwing a shadow on the empty bluish ocean extending from horizon to horizon.

  “Where are we flying now?”

  “You are bound for the Lunar Base, but first we have to cover our tracks a bit. They may be on our tails.”

  Soon the ship began its descent into a grey mist. The further it descended, the darker it became outside the porthole. It was gloomy weather over the place to which the ship was heading.

  Steve looked out of the porthole. Nothing could be seen because of the dense cloud. The ship passed through the cloud base and the clouds outside disappeared. Before them, in the middle of the ocean, lay an island. In its brightly illuminated c
enter, military ships could be seen parked here and there. But instead of landing next to them, their ship flew around the base and carefully taxied into one of the tall hangars. Through the portholes, they could see the servicing personnel inside turning away from the hurricane of wind from its engines.

  “Here we go our different ways,” said Shelby, releasing the straps and getting out of his seat. “You will fly to the base from here and I shall stay here to work. Your spacecraft is already waiting.”

  He pointed to the other end of the hangar then pulled his suitcase from under the seat.

  “We left the campus in such a hurry that we don’t have our things with us, but we can get everything we need when we reach the Lunar Base.”

  The three of them stepped out onto the floor of the brightly lit hangar.

  “Well, best of luck, lads,” said Shelby, shaking their hands in turn.

  “What is your job?” asked Clive.

  “We have to change the parameters of the portal. The president should not have blurted out the fact that we have developed this technology, so we have to be cunning, to confuse whoever might try to take advantage of the situation. We shall have to open the portal somewhere else.”

  Shelby gestured towards a spacecraft standing in a far corner of the hangar.

  “That’s where you have to go.” He went along with them to show them the way.

  “What about communication? When we are on the other side of the portal, will we be able to communicate?”

  “Unfortunately, live communication will not be possible. We have not yet mastered the technology for transmitting information in the gravity waveband. But we shall regularly open the portal for this purpose and send you a package with instructions. You will do the same, that way there will still be some sort of contact.”

  “I reckon that’s better than nothing,” said Steve as he tried to keep up with Shelby, who, in spite of his short stature, was walking so fast that he was finding it difficult.

  “When we were working with the aliens’ portal, we couldn’t communicate live either, on account of the distance,” said Clive.

  “Yes, so you’re already used to it,” replied Shelby, without slackening his pace.

  “Good luck to us all, then.”

  “Good luck. And Clive: try to be more careful this time.”

  8

  The deafening noise of thousands of loudspeakers resounding through the hall made his whole body vibrate. The human mass on the dance floor, like a swarm of insects, was moving in time to music more like the roar of a waterfall. Laser beams played inwards from all directions, illuminating everything around in frequent flares and making the head throb. How could anyone stay here of their own free will for more than ten minutes?

  Were it not for the drink, a bottle of which Zach was holding in his hands, he could hardly have put up with this punishment. It’s true what they say, the music of the younger generation is designed to irritate the older. Up until that moment he had not considered himself old, but looking at the ecstasy on the faces of those around him, he suddenly realized that he belonged to a different generation. In his day, having fun really meant enjoying yourself, not like this.

  After taking a swig of his drink, he set the bottle of dark brushed metal on the table, where several identical but empty bottles were already standing. This new-fangled gnat’s piss had the same effect on the head as alcohol mixed with amphetamines. It was the very thing for a joint like this, but the taste was pure poison, sickly-sweet but impossibly acidic at the same time.

  After the second bottle, the multi-colored laser beams took on an unusual appearance. People’s movements seemed to slow down and the music didn’t sound so loud. Now he could understand how those jerks at the next table were able to keep chatting to each other in spite of all the racket. He looked towards them again. Their table was groaning under the weight of similar empty bottles and their eyes appeared glazed over, even from this distance. Well, that was probably enough of this muck for today. It was supposed to be comparatively weak according to the label, but not being used to it, he hadn’t known what to expect. A bottle of cold vodka would go to his head more than this poison, but at least he would recognize the feeling. This stuff just made him feel odd. His body was still under his control, but it felt different. Still, he had to make a pretense of thinking everything here was OK by him.

  Zach reached blindly for the bottle again, but instead of the cold dew-covered metal, his palm touched someone’s sweaty hand. All his muscles tensed immediately and his other hand crept into his pocket for his gun. His face remained the same, but his internal muscles compressed into a ball, ready to jump into action if the circumstances required.

  Zach drunkenly turned his head. Sitting next to him and staring straight at him was some jerk with long dreadlocks, a multitude of piercings and fluorescent tattoos. How could he have reached the table without Zach having noticed him? His stare was too intelligent and unnaturally penetrating for the sort of degenerate he seemed to be. It was out of kilter with his appearance. Usually these doped-up junkies hardly knew what planet they were on, but this one clearly knew what he was about.

  “What do you want?” asked Zach, looking at him. His eyes were partly closed, as if he were drunk. He winked, deliberately moving his eyelids slowly, creating the impression that he was barely able to move his tongue.

  “Shall we dance?” asked the junkie.

  Zach looked around. What sort of game was this?

  “I think you have the wrong table, chum,” he replied, carefully releasing the safety catch on his gun and aiming it at the junkie’s crotch without taking it out of his pocket.

  The guy’s face expressed neither protest nor annoyance. He was not in the least surprised and did not try to persuade Zach, but simply put his bottle in front of Zach’s nose and sighed in disappointment as he clumsily came out from behind the table. Zach pushed the bottle aside in disgust with his fingernail, but then realized that there was something rolling around inside it. His body felt a shock. Could this jerk really be the one?

  Zach waited a few minutes, periodically bringing his bottle to his mouth, but only pretending to drink it. Then he got up and cautiously exchanged the bottle in his hand for the one left by the junkie and shakily, clumsily, disappeared into the toilet.

  Inside one of the WCs, he raised the bottle to his ear and shook it carefully. There was no liquid inside, only some object bouncing around in the bottom. He overturned it onto his palm. A holographic cube, shining in the light with all the colors of the rainbow, fell onto his hand. So the junkie really was his contact. That was funny, they usually sent him girls...

  Fifteen minutes later, Zach was three blocks away from the disco. It was not possible to read all the information from the cube at once, it only displayed brief fragmentary messages, apparently aligned to its position in space.

  The first message contained only the coordinates of somewhere in the city, about 20 minutes’ walk from the disco. Zach walked quickly, trying to conceal his inner turmoil. He kept catching himself in the thought that he looked too worried and forced himself to slow down. He had a corrosive thought incessantly on his brain. Something was different this time. He didn’t understand what, but internally he felt something burdensome taking control of his mind.

  Only a few hundred yards remained to the place indicated by the cube, he just had to turn off into a side street that was a dead end. The dark silhouette of a minivan was visible behind the garbage bins. If you looked carefully, you could make out its headlamps, reflecting the pale moonlight imperceptibly. He checked the map. The minivan was positioned exactly on the coordinates he had been given.

  Once he had turned into the side street, a long series of apparently meaningless figures and letters appeared on the display of his augmented reality spectacles. Zach glanced through them but, unable to understand what they meant, went on. Unless something had changed, he was on the right track.

  He carefully approached the min
ivan. It was impossible to make out anything inside it through the dark glass since there were no street lights. He looked at the outside of the vehicle. The rear wheels were well settled down, as if the minivan had a full load of bricks inside it. Strange...

  He pulled the door handle, more out of curiosity than any desire to open the door, but it clicked and slid aside, revealing a wide entrance. An unlocked minivan with no alarm in this part of town?

  This thought had barely flashed through his mind when the interior light came on. A cold shiver ran down Zach’s spine. Inside were two infantry robots. Where there should have been faces, dark, wide visors could be made out in the darkness. Standing up, they would have been more than two meters tall, but compacted for travel, they fitted easily inside a normal minivan.

  People like Zach disliked these humanoid independent killing machines in the same way that mice dislike cats. The very appearance of the things was horrifying, but they were even more dangerous than you would think from their external appearance. Zach had seen them in action and not just as an observer, but as one of their targets. It was a miracle that he had survived, but since then the sight of these machines, even a silhouette of something like them, aroused mortal terror in him.

  They were on his team now, however, and Zach was too experienced a mercenary for dirty work to call off the mission simply at the sight of some metal hardware. Overcoming his primeval terror, he took hold of the handrail to look inside. His mouth went dry at once and his heart beat wildly, just as on his first parachute jump. He pulled on the handrail and stepped inside.

  One of the robots instantly came to life and rose up threateningly, its hydraulics whining as its body leaned slightly forward.

  “Code?” it asked curtly in a low voice.

  Such politeness only meant one thing. The robots were carrying out an advanced program. They usually preferred to express themselves by a burst of large-caliber bullets or pulse discharges. That was a good thing. Iron idiots firing stupidly at everything around them was certainly not what Zach wanted.