Paradigm 2045- Trinity's Children

by Robert W. Ross

  “Karishma?” asked Charlotte.

  The woman let out a cry of alarm, then spun in her chair. Her eyes were sunken with circles beneath that spoke of long days and little sleep. She blinked, rubbed at her face, then squinted as if not completely believing what her eyes clearly showed. “Captain? Captain Omandi?” she managed. “I don’t understand. You are a month early. He promised I had at least another month. I’m not ready. She’s not ready.” The woman gave an almost hysterical laugh, then said, “Neither of us are ready.”

  Misha inhaled and Charlotte recognized the torrent of commands her security officer was about to unleash. She also saw that the young Indian woman was in no condition to hear them. Omandi pointed at Misha and shook her head. Sokolov frowned, but said nothing as Charlotte stepped back to give the hand terminal a better angle from which to capture her image. “Karishma,” Omandi said softly.

  “No way. You are not doing this to me. I’m calling Doctor Howard,” sputtered the engineer. “He hasn’t been answering and that’s no excuse for moving up the timetable on me. He can’t do that, Captain. He just can’t. Do you know how much sleep I’ve gotten?” Charlotte made to interject, but Karishma continued on without taking a breath. “Almost none is the answer to that clearly rhetorical question. I’m here all alone, and while the construction bots don’t need sleep, I’m only human, Captain. I’m so tired.”

  Omandi held up a hand. “Doctor Howard is dead, Karishma. That is why he hasn’t returned your calls.”

  “Dead? He’s dead?” The engineer nodded, “Well, that is an excellent excuse, but it doesn’t explain why you are coming early. Captain, I need that month. I could maybe shave off another week if you didn’t want me to test—”

  “You’ll have your month if I have anything to do with it,” said Charlotte. “Now, please, take a breath because we’re in a bit of trouble and Howard’s daemon says you are the person whose help we need if we’re to get out of it alive.”

  Karishma glanced at the humanoid face staring at her from all the monitors. “He let it out? Please tell me he didn’t let it out. I warned him. I said, ‘Doctor Howard, releasing an autonomous, self-propogating, scripting agent is a very bad idea.’ He never listens to me. Oh, he pretends to listen but—”

  “Karishma,” interrupted Omandi, “I let it out. If I hadn’t, I would be dead right now. Please try to focus because the daemon said you are the only one who can keep us all from dying tonight.”

  “Well, you’ve got her full attention now,” murmured Damien as the young engineer rolled her chair closer to the camera.

  Omandi nodded, then said, “I’m going to give you an order now Karishma. No, I’m going to give you two orders. First, you are going to teach my pilot how to extend the Galileo’s shields around our current position and, second, you are going to get some sleep.”

  Karishma shook her head. “That’s impossible, Captain. It just can’t be done.”

  “Been nice knowing you, guys,” grumbled Misha.

  “Why can’t the shields be extended?” asked Charlotte calmly.

  The engineer pinched up her face. “What? The shields? That’s easy. Of course they can be extended. I mean they weren’t designed to be extended, but I can do it. The emitters will just need to be repositioned a bit.” Her fingers began flying across two touchscreens no one could see and James’s face appeared in the corner of one display. Her eyes flicked to him. “Who’s that?” she asked.

  “That’s the pilot, James,” replied Charlotte, “Don’t you know who he is?”

  “No, Doctor Howard just told me about you, and showed me a few vid-feeds. He said you were assembling the crew and that I had a month to finish getting Bladerunner ready. It really isn’t enough time though, Captain Omandi, if I could just—”

  “Karishma, I need you to focus on the shields now. We can discuss the Bladerunner later.”

  “Uh, Captain,” said Branson.

  “Not now, Lieutenant,” growled Omandi, “I’m trying to get you those shields.”

  They saw Branson slide one hand across a nearby control panel. Instantly, a blue light shone through Carpenter’s large front window, bathing them in a soft glow.“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” said James. “I’ve got those shields. Standby, I’m going to do a quick test maneuver and see how quickly I can shift the protected areas.” The blue light faded from the front and less than two-seconds later it reappeared, this time from the back windows. “Whoo hoo!” yelled James. “My Gal has some savage moves. I can do a complete protective sequence from front, to roof, to back, in less than two and a half seconds. Those U.N. controlled special operators can eat shite, because one James Thomas Branson has your back.”

  Karishma stared at the camera lens, her face a mask of confusion. “I told you that the shields were easy, but they won’t last. You guys are going to need to get out of there.”

  Misha couldn’t control herself any longer and yelled, “You just said the shields were impossible, but somehow ten-seconds later they are easy?”

  “No, the shields were always easy. I said they were easy.”

  “Then what’s impossible?”

  “The Captain’s other order. I just don’t have time to sleep. Sleep is impossible.”

  Charlotte could almost hear Sokolov’s molars creak as the security officer tensed her jaw in frustration. “How long will the shields last?” asked the captain.

  Karishma shrugged. “It depends on how much energy they need to displace.” No sooner had she spoken than the entire building rumbled and dust rained down among the small group. “Oh,” said the engineer smiling, “that was helpful.”

  “What just happened?” asked Rick.

  “They are attacking us,” sighed Misha, then added, “Trying to breach the Galileo’s shielding. Baseline rules of engagement would allow for that.”

  “It looks like they are using powerful, but conventional shaped charges,” said Karishma while tapping on several displays. “Your shields should be good for at least thirty—” A flash brightened the entire room and was followed by a high pitched hum. The engineer frowned. “Never mind, they also have plasma based weapons. Shield failure in about ten minutes. That’s why I said you needed to get out of there.”

  “Oh for God’s sake,” yelled Misha and pointed at the camera. “Don’t you get it. I’ll use small words. We…have…no way…out!”

  “That is not technically correct, Lieutenant,” said the Daemon. “While I was aware of Lt. Commander Patel’s ability to adjust Galileo’s shielding, I now think there is a better option. I suggest you ask to open a singularity gate.”

  “Oh no…no…no,” cried Karishma. “That’s definitely not ready. Doctor Howard said we wouldn’t need that until after launch.”

  The room shook again and Damien reached out to steady Rick. The doctor smiled appreciatively, then sighed. “This day just keeps getting better.”

  “I feel like I’m mentally wading through Jell-O,” said Omandi. “What exactly is a singularity gate?”

  “It’s the Drac’ath’s primary method for long distance travel and communication,” replied Patel. She lifted both hands and formed two circles with thumb and forefinger. “You use a cold-fusion reactor or energized dark matter to create a massive gravity well. With sufficiently large energy to mass conversion, a micro-singularity will form allowing you to,” she raised her left hand, “move from one spot,” she raised her right, “to another, while skipping all the space in between. It’s better than the Alcubierre drive for covering vast distances although the AW engine has advantages too, which is why Bladerunner has both, or she will. When I’m done.” The young woman glared at Omandi, “In about a month.”

  “I’m going to kill her,” muttered Misha but a warning glance from Charlotte silenced Sokolov before she built up a head of steam. “Karishma, how long will it take for you to open a singularity gate between our location and yours?”

  The younger woman shook her head. “No can do, Captain. F
irst of all, I don’t know my location. Second, Doctor Howard told me I’m way too far beneath the surface for that kind of gate to function.” She waved a hand. “And that’s assuming I could even open one, which I can’t. To maximize stability there should be something on which to anchor the gate at both origination and destination. In theory, I could simulate one of the anchor points, but would absolutely need a massive fusion engine at the other. As far as I know, the only such engine is with me and, besides, Dr. Howard said, too much rock.”

  “What about Ice Station Zebra?” asked Omandi.

  “Captain,” interrupted Branson. “They are coordinating their assaults. I think they figured out what I’m doing and are trying to time a blast within the white space created by my shifting locations. You guys need to get as far away from any ingress point as possible. It’s just a matter of time ’til they get lucky.”

  “The Antarctic facility has a cold-fusion engine of sufficient energy to serve as a destination anchor,” said the daemon in response to Charlotte’s previous question.

  “It does?” asked Karishma sounding excited. “That changes everything.”

  “So you can do it?” asked Charlotte.

  “Oh, no, Captain. Sorry. I probably can’t. I just meant it changes everything in that it’s scientifically possible now where before it wasn’t. At best, it would be unstable, and would likely take the destination engine offline due to a power surge. You might get one person through.”

  “Do it,” barked Omandi.

  “But, Captain, like I said—”

  Charlotte interrupted her. “I know what you said. I also know what each of Howard’s engineering candidates is capable of. He obviously thought you were the best. So, get it done, or we’re all dead. Of course, if that happens, at least you will have plenty of time to tinker with the Bladerunner before all of humanity is extinguished.”

  Several seconds ticked by as the two women stared at each other through their communications link. Finally, Karishma sucked in a breath and said, “I’ll need a direct conduit to the Antarctica-based reactor.”

  “Access provided,” said the daemon.

  “Oh, well, that was fast. I’ll also need the precise, and I mean precise, location at which you want the gate to open.”

  “I can give you hyper-accurate GPS coordinates with three centimeter accuracy. Will that do?” asked Misha.

  “Uh, yeah. When can you—”

  “Coordinates transmitted,” said Misha, then pointed at a spot on the floor. “Stay clear of that area. I don’t know what would happen if this black-hole gate thing opened up around one of us.”

  Karishma appeared to be simultaneously viewing three different monitors, two of which ran massive calculations while the third depicted a simulation of her spacial gates. Every second or two the simulation would flash the word, failed, in bold red letters. The engineer noticed everyone staring at her and smiled, “Don’t worry. Science is all about failing oneself to success.” She paused, then added, “Oh, but do worry about being within the diameter of the gate when it opens. You would be torn apart at the atomic level.”

  “Like I said,” sniffed Misha, “stay clear of that spot right there.”

  “Captain!” yelled Branson, “Damn it, I missed one of the—”

  An explosion sounded from Dr. Carpenter’s back office and everyone threw themselves to the ground. Dust filled the room and Misha rolled into a crouch with her HID weapon pointed toward the debris. As the dust began to settle she could see several shapes silhouetted from behind. The blue haze, provided by the Galileo’s extended shield, vanished a split second before an explosion sounded from the office’s opposite side. As it did so, one of the soldiers extended his weapon cautiously and was about to step forward when the shielding reappeared. His weapon sheared in half and the man jumped back, crouched, and raised his left hand in a fist.

  Misha glanced over and Charlotte placed a hand on her shoulder. “You need to stay clear!” yelled Omandi toward the breaching solders. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt and those plasmatic shields will cut you in half just like it did your weapon.”

  “Why don’t we want them to get hurt, exactly?” asked Misha. “You do realize they want to kill us, well, most of us.”

  “They’re just following orders. Who knows what narrative they’ve been sold, Misha? Half truths are more dangerous than lies. They’ve been ordered to bring us in and probably told humanity’s very existence lies in the balance.”

  “We’re taking you out of there, one way or another,” called a Soldier. “I’m setting off another charge as soon as that shield moves again.”

  Omandi grinned. “First good news I’ve heard all night.”

  Misha shook her head, “With all due respect, Captain, I think you’ve lost—”

  “Fine, we’ll come out. We have an injured man and our doctor is trying to stabilize him. Just give us a few minutes.”

  There was a pause, then the soldier responded. “You have ten minutes. Spend that time with your wounded. We’ll spend ours setting up synchronized breaching charges. If everyone isn’t on their knees with hands on heads at minute eleven, those charges are going off.”

  Branson’s voice came over someone’s hand terminal. “Captain, they are moving back a bit. Do you want me to continue shield shifting?”

  “No, James, I want you to maintain a shield on the back office breach, and standby with this channel open.”

  “What are you—” began Misha

  “That soldier wasn’t going to set off the charge,” interrupted Omandi, “I could tell he wasn’t.”

  “Your gut again?” asked Misha.

  Charlotte nodded but addressed Karishma who had continued running simulations. “How we doing, Lt. Commander?”

  Patel looked up. “Pretty good, two hundred failed attempts, but I’m getting closer.”

  “That’s great,” said Charlotte calmly. “I really need you to not fail some time over the next eight minutes.”

  Karishma paused, stared into the camera with understanding, then swallowed. “Well, I could make it work, kind of now, using the one indeterminate sim result I got.”

  “Jesus,” spat Sokolov, “why didn’t you mention that before? Let’s go.”

  “What made the test indeterminate?” asked Damien.

  Karishma glanced at one of her screens, then said,“ It had a thirty-seven percent combined chance that either organic matter gets disrupted or the destination fusion engine goes critical.” Patel held up one finger and began running additional simulations. A couple seconds later she said, “Just so we’re clear, when there’s less than a twenty percent chance of either death or nuclear explosion, I consider that success, twenty to fifty percent is indeterminate, and greater than fifty percent…” she pointed to the flashing red fail indicator “is failure.”

  Charlotte looked at her hand terminal. “We’ve got six minutes. Karishma, what are the odds you will create a successful sim in less than four?”

  The Indian woman laughed. “About zero. Now, if I had a couple hours, then—”

  “Spin up that indeterminate simulation and open a gate,” commanded Omandi.

  “But—”

  “No, Patel. Thirty-seven percent chance of failure means a sixty-three percent chance of success. Spin it up. That’s an order.” With a last look at her simulations, Karishma shook her head and started frantically jumping from one station to the next. “How long?” asked Charlotte.

  “About two minutes, if everyone would just shut the fuck up.” She froze then stared at the camera. “I’m sorry, Captain Omandi, I really never—”

  Charlotte shook her head and smiled. “No, you’re fine, Karishma. We are all shutting the fuck up now.”

  Almost exactly two minutes later an even more disheveled Karishma Patel leaned close to the station’s video camera. “I’m ready. Everyone needs to stand at least three feet back from the coordinates you provided earlier.”

  “We’re good,” said Mish
a.

  “Okay, now one of three things is going to happen. Nothing, nothing on your end, but a massive explosion in Antartica, or a spacial gate will open joining your location to that Ice Station Zebulon you mentioned earlier.”

  “Zebra,” corrected Damien.

  Misha glared at the android. “Really?”

  “Push the button, Karishma,” said Omandi.

  Almost immediately, a pinprick of light formed about three feet off the floor and in the exact location Misha had noted earlier. It grew in all directions until a large, pulsing shape extended outward to about a four foot diameter. As it pulsed, the object changed shape in a manner reminiscent of ink disbursing in water.

  “It’s not stable, Captain,” yelled Karishma, “Oh, God, it’s going to, no wait, no it’s not. I think I can strengthen it a bit. Whatever you do, don’t touch the edges.”

  “I’ll test it,” said Charlotte.

  Misha grabbed her around both shoulders. “The hell you will. If anyone is going to test it—”

  Damien took three steps then jumped. He sailed over the bottom edge like a diver entering a pool horizontally. A second later, Omandi’s hand terminal buzzed. “I’m through, Captain. No adverse affects.”

  Charlotte swallowed a string of curses that threatened to overcome her, but instead turned to Richard and said. “Can you do what Damien just did? You’ll need to angle yourself to—”

  “I saw,” he said quietly. “Jump, tuck, and roll.” He smiled. “Nothing to it.”

  “No!” yelled Karishma, “I’m trying to stabilize the destination reactor. Matter passing through the rift draws enormous energy. Give me thirty-seconds to balance things.”

  Omandi tapped her hand terminal, then said. “Counting down exactly thirty-seconds. Rick, when I say go, you jump. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  Silence blanketed the trio with an almost palpable weight until Charlotte said, “three…two…one…jump!”