I have less than twenty hours to install something that should take a week, he thought as he rifled through the NEB’s installation instructions. Any ships caught inside a Terminal without a NEB got vaporized when it activated. It was a side effect of opening a wormhole. A good chunk of his work came from servicing NEBs, and every month, Jack heard of some fool who got vaporized due to a malfunctioning buffer. Even though he knew better, Jack would have to forego testing to meet his deadline. The buffer had to work perfectly on the first try, or he and this mission would be dust.
After twenty hours of non-stop work, Jack now stood in the kitchenette of his loft and watched coffee drip into his mug. He pulled back the jacket’s sleeve to read his wristwatch. It was already 08:17 by the Standard Galactic Spacetime Interval. It had taken him all night to install the buffer. He picked up his sixth cup of coffee and activated the program that would return the pod to the main level of the station.
At 08:30, the door buzzed. The supplies Jack had ordered for the journey had arrived. Jack transferred the vegetables, grains, proteins, and fats to a large cooler.
Hocco arrived at 09:00, and they talked about the mission over a cup of coffee. While he divulged some details, Hocco still refused to tell Jack where they were going.
After finishing their coffee, Jack and Hocco made their way to the Strider. Jack stored the food in the galley, then showed Hocco to his quarters.
When they were ready to launch, Jack and Hocco went down to the locker room to trade their civilian clothes for spacesuits. First, Jack took off his leather jacket and hung it up in the locker, followed shortly by the rest of his clothes. He pulled on a thin, flexible bodysuit, then slid into the rigid spacesuit that would protect him during high-G maneuvers
Jack and Hocco reached the Strider’s cockpit at 09:46. Jack fastened his restraints and inhaled the warm electrical air from the ship’s vents. He hit a series of switches and buttons using pure muscle memory. The engines hummed and the lights sparked to life. “Start preflight check.”
The computer read the status of various systems out loud, and when they were ready, Jack initiated the program to exit the pod. The entire roof of the hangar opened to the vacant Terminal and billions of stars. The ship groaned and lifted off the floor. Free of the station’s rotation, it became weightless and drifted through the open doors.
The Harbinger’s distinguishing feature was its two arms. They extended the length of the craft and connected to the hull by a joint midship. While in storage, the arms were kept parallel to the fuselage, but once they were clear of the pod, Jack set their orientation to be perpendicular. This was better for fighting and maneuvering, as it gave the thrusters maximum torque. It also provided the gun pods—at either end of each arm—a greater firing solution.
As they drifted toward the center of the Terminal, the control tower contacted them. From here, it was standard protocol to surrender control of the Strider. Jack hated to do it, but he understood that it was necessary to avoid collisions. The station’s computers would then arrange each ship’s position within the Terminal and fit them together like a big puzzle.
Jack leaned back as the Strider’s main engines powered down. Maneuvering thrusters fired in rapid bursts that only a computer could manage. After a few minutes, they stopped in the dead center of the ring. The Terminal, which had been part of Jack’s view for years, now loomed around him in 360 degrees. His ship may have been a large fighter, but it felt tiny and insignificant compared to the ring-shaped artifact.
Jack checked his watch. “It’s five after ten.” He faced Hocco. “You’ve got fifty-five minutes to take care of any personal business.”
Hocco ran a flight simulation on his panel.
Jack cocked his head. “I didn’t know that you could fly?”
“I’ve had some experience.” Hocco hit a series of buttons and jerked the stick left. “And I’m using intention controls.”
With intention controls, the computer would correct decisions that would jeopardize the ship. Like when someone knew what you meant to say, even if you said the wrong thing. Jack never activated intention correction. Time always seemed to slow down for him when it mattered, allowing him to make the right choice in the heat of battle.
“That’s odd.”
“What’s odd?”
“We’re the only ship in the entire Terminal. I’ve never seen that before.” Jack checked the holographic lidar. Hundreds of ships were queued up outside, but no one crossed the invisible boundary of the Terminal’s activation sphere. “Oh wait, there’s one. Not just us after all.” A single spaceship had edged closer to the boundary, but had yet to cross it.
Hocco looked up from his simulation. “There shouldn’t be any other ships joining us.”
Suddenly, red lights flashed on the control panel, and a loudspeaker blared. “Alert. Alert,” the voice repeated throughout the Strider. “Negative-energy buffer not detected.”
“I thought you installed it.”
“I did,” Jack said as he simultaneously ran through every step of the process in his head. Then he remembered the thin chipset he slid into the pocket of his jacket. “Damn it!” Without the chipset, the station couldn’t sync the buffer, and they’d be disintegrated when the Terminal activated. Jack released his restraints and pushed off toward the cargo bay. He flung open his locker and pulled out his jacket. He reached inside and groped with gloved fingers.
“We should cancel the transfer,” Hocco said over the comm. “We can try again tomorrow.”
“No, I can fix it,” Jack answered, still fumbling in his jacket. The constant blaring of the ship’s alarm had turned Jack’s brain to mush. “Can you shut that alarm off?”
“Got it,” Hocco said, and a moment later the alarm went silent.
Jack sighed in relief as he pulled a small static bag out of his jacket. He carried the chipset back up to the cockpit. Then, he ran his gloved finger between two panels on the corridor wall. A hidden lever flipped open. He used the lever to remove the panel door. He let it float inside the hallway. Warm air and the scent of silicon hit his face. Holding the static bag in his teeth, he paged through the circuit boards and slid one out. A hologram displayed the name and function of each component. He took a deep breath and let the hum of fans and the deep rumble of the ship’s engine soothe him.
“We’re running out of time,” Hocco reminded him.
Jack ignored Hocco and scanned the circuit board. “There.” He ripped the static bag open and pull the chipset free. Holding the wafer between his gloved fingers, he inserted it into an empty socket. Then, he slid the board inside and flipped it. The hologram displayed a progress meter of the installation. The loading bar sped forward and paused at 95 percent.
Outside the ship, the Terminal glowed, filling the cockpit with blue light. Jack became acutely aware of the sweat under his arms. Finally, the loading bar reached 100 percent, and the negative-energy buffer appeared on the list of active modules. Everything was green.
“Negative-energy buffer detected,” the computer announced. “You may now safely travel through the Terminal.
Jack sighed and headed back to the cockpit. He noted that Hocco was gripping the chair arms.
“I thought you said, ‘No problem.’”
“Yeah, well, I fixed it, so no problem.” Jack settled into his seat. The blue glow of the Terminal increased in intensity and a one-minute warning played over the ship’s speakers. “See, we even had time to spare.”
“We’re not completely out of danger,” Hocco said. “That ship is still out there.”
Jack shrugged with his hands. “She’s probably trying to boost. Sometimes ships cross the threshold right before the Terminal activates.” Jack scanned the mystery vessel, and a hologram appeared. It was a Tiburon ship with blue-and-white detailing. This one had illegal missile banks, laser turrets, energy capacitors, and armor. Then, the ship did something odd: It moved inside the launch perimeter. If they were hitching a ride, they shoul
d have waited until the last second.
“I don’t like it,” Hocco said as he unfastened his restraints.
“Where are you going?” Jack demanded.
“To a gun pod.” Hocco pulled his helmet down.
“Why? The Terminal has everything locked down.”
“I can override computer control and switch it over to manual.”
Good idea, Jack thought as Hocco dropped out of sight
Suddenly, the Strider’s shield flashed blue. “They shot at us!” Jack said. He turned and shouted at the retreating Hocco, “Hurry up and get secured.”
The shields continued to flash as the enemy ship fired on them. Jack slammed his hand on the unresponsive controls. “Sorry, baby,” he mumbled to the Strider. “Why are they shooting at us?” Jack asked Hocco over the communicator.
“It has to be the Selkans,” Hocco said. “They must have followed me. Now, we’ve got to destroy that ship before they kill us.”
“I’d like to, but the station still has us in lockdown,” Jack said. “Why aren’t they shooting it down?” They’re probably trying to communicate with them, Jack thought. Waste of time. Finally, the Lan Station’s ion towers opened fire. The Tiburon ship’s shields glowed green as blasts of charged ions hit it. That should at least confuse their sensors, Jack thought. The console flashed. Jack checked the notification. Pod three was online. Hocco had done it. With only manual control, aiming would be difficult. Jack checked the timer. “Just a bit longer,” he whispered to the Strider.
“Final sequence initiated,” the computer said.
The blue glow of the Terminal intensified. A thick black mist surrounded the two ships. White light stretched out until it encompassed the entire visible spectrum. It looked for a moment as if a rainbow had wrapped itself around the ship. Then it was gone, and a foreign starfield surrounded the Strider. They were no longer in the Lan System, which meant that the station no longer controlled Jack’s ship.
“Hey baby,” Jack said to the Strider. “Let’s show ’em what you can do.” Jack fired the primary drive and the ship lurched forward.
“We have to destroy that ship,” Hocco said over the communicator.
I know, Jack thought to himself as the Tiburon opened fire. He twisted the sticks and the Strider twirled away from the projectiles. Jack increased thrust and they surged past the enemy ship. He flipped the Strider around and set all weapons on automatic fire. Purple plasma erupted from the rail guns, and hypersonic slugs slammed into the Tiburon.
“Whoo, that got ’em!” Hocco shouted. “Nice flying.”
Jack grinned in spite of himself. The enemy ship wasn’t done however. It flipped around to face them. Jack heard the familiar beeping of a target lock. They’re firing missiles. At this range, they couldn’t miss.
The Strider lacked missiles, but she had several countermeasures. She could scramble the enemy’s sensors in a flood of ions, or fire flak to confuse the missiles. The point-defense cannons could shoot the missiles down, but Jack chose the one countermeasure that outshone them all. He disabled the primary drive and activated the ship’s cloaking device. To all forms of detection, he was now invisible. The beeping of the target lock ceased, and the missiles drifted out into space.
The Tiburon had only one course of action left: They ran.
“Chase after them,” Hocco urged. “They’re going to warn the Selkans.”
Jack would have preferred to sit here and let them go, but Hocco was right. He’d never locate the stellar lab if they managed to warn the Selkans that they were coming. Jack cursed and jammed their communication. Then, he fired up the primary drive and gave chase.
Now that they were cloaked, all the Tiburon could do was fire backward blindly with their point-defense cannons. A few lucky shots hit the Strider’s shields, causing it to light up in flashes of green, but it wasn’t enough to make him back down.
Jack set all four rail guns on auto, and a volley of hypersonic slugs slammed into the rear of the enemy ship. The Tiburon’s shields overloaded in a shower of blue particles, and its main drive went dark.
“Finish them off,” Hocco said.
“Wait,” Jack said as his console beeped. They had received a message from the Tiburon. “They sent a message. Maybe we can get some answers.”
Jack hit play and a man said in a panicked voice, “This is the Redeemer. We surrender.”
Jack sent them a message. “Who are you?” he demanded. “Why did you attack us?” Then, he matched the Redeemer’s velocity and pulled close to the derelict ship.
Before the Redeemer could answer, the rail gun in pod three fired, and the enemy ship’s reactor exploded in a flash of blinding light. The Strider rattled as debris struck them, and a wave of energy spun them around.
“Hocco?” Jack shouted over the ship’s intercom, and his hands shook with adrenaline. “What were you thinking? You could have killed us.”
“They attacked us, remember? I wasn’t about to take the chance that they were bluffing.”
Jack narrowed his eyes. He didn’t agree with Hocco, but he wasn’t wrong. The Redeemer had no reason to tell them the truth. With the enemy ship gone, Jack turned the Strider around to face the pitch-black Terminal behind them. That’s odd, he thought, where’s the space station? He checked the star charts. Nothing looked familiar. Where are we?
7
Black Rabbit
Jenny’s head thundered as she stormed away from Bea. She looked at Sally and said, “Can you believe she actually thinks I’d want to be a fortune-teller for the rest of my life?” Then, she thought to herself, She probably wants me to find a husband and be a good little wife too. Ugh, I’d rather die.
A dizzy spell hit Jenny as she took the first step up the stairs. White spots swam before her eyes. She swayed and used the rail to pull herself up to the landing. Onyx ran up the stairs and into Ruby’s room. Jenny followed Onyx inside. Her mom was snoring softly under the patchwork quilt. Jenny tried to recall a time before her mom was sick, a time when the sounds of laughter echoed throughout the house, but they were distant memories.
Jenny stumbled into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. Jenny focused on the pain, visualizing it as a blue flame. Then she gathered it into a ball and pushed it away. A warm feeling spread through her, and after a minute the tremors in her head quieted. She opened her eyes and smiled. The pain was gone.
“Now”—she looked at Sally—“let’s find out what this VRGo puzzle is all about.”
Jenny slid her closet door open. The silver cube rested under a rack full of dark dresses. Jenny slid the block to the middle of the room. As her fingertips lifted from the warm surface of the puzzle, twelve glowing symbols lit up around the divet on the surface. Jenny noted that one of the symbols was a triangle inside a circle, like her mother’s amulet. Probably just a coincidence, Jenny thought as she felt the necklace under her shirt.
One of the symbols flashed blue, and a tone played. Yet, she didn’t hear this tone with her ears. Somehow it played inside her mind. Jenny shivered. It is just like that strange obsidian bowl at the wedding. Jenny looked at her Alice in Wonderland toy. It’s not time to be afraid, she thought, it’s time to be curious. After all, they did say I’d have to use all my senses. I guess that includes this bizarre extra sense I have.
Jenny took a deep breath and tapped the symbol. It flashed back at her. A different symbol lit up, accompanied by a new tone. If this is anything like Simon Says, then I need to copy the pattern. She touched the two symbols in order. Then three and four. Each time Jenny solved a previous sequence, the VRGo puzzle added another symbol, another note to the series, and the tempo increased.
After completing a pattern that involved all twelve of the symbols, the block made a strange clicking noise. The four, thin rectangular sides of the Simon Says block dropped to the floor with a clack. Jenny gathered the four narrow strips together. They were as thin as poster board but inflexible and strong, like titanium. She set them down on her lef
t. Then, she removed the top piece of the puzzle. Underneath was another silver block, identical to the Simon Says block, but slightly smaller.
Do I have to do this again? Jenny groaned as she placed the top piece on the floor to her right. It suddenly felt too quiet in her room. “Computer, play music.” Radiohead’s “Paranoid Android” continued to play from where she had paused it earlier. She pulled the slightly smaller silver block toward her, and to her surprise, it slid apart. It wasn’t solid. It was a stack of cards. Eighteen, altogether, plus four squares on the bottom that were slightly larger. These were the same size as the top piece she noted, so she put them on her right, with the top piece. She now had three piles. One with eighteen square metal cards, five slightly larger from the Simon Says box, and the four narrow rectangular strips.
The squares were much too large to lay out on her floor, so she inspected each piece in turn. After five minutes of careful investigation, she didn’t find any useful details. I bet Michael knows what to do, Jenny thought. Maybe I should go ask him. But her stubborn side wouldn’t allow her to give up just yet. What if I try different combinations?
With the music playing, Jenny found it easier to perform the monotonous task of testing each square to each of the other squares. On her twelfth try, she heard a humming sound inside her head, like during the Simon Says portion of the puzzle.
“Volume down,” she said aloud, and the music coming from the computer quieted. Jenny needed to use all of her brain as she focused on the pieces that produced sounds. After several more minutes, Jenny had sorted the eighteen cards into three stacks of six. Now she had five piles. Hmm, she thought, I haven’t exactly simplified things. Then, an idea came to her. A cube has six sides. Jenny took two squares and placed their edges together at a ninety-degree angle. Nothing happened, but Jenny didn’t give up. She rotated one of the squares until suddenly, the two pieces snapped together with a clack. Blue lines raced across their shiny surfaces in a weave of geometric patterns then vanished. The connection was so precise that she couldn’t find a gap where they had joined.
The Key of Astrea Page 7