Nearspace Trilogy

by Sherry D. Ramsey

I pointed at Yuskeya’s screen. “This. If this is the vanguard of an invasion force—”

  My sister realized immediately what I was saying. “The Protectorate needs to know. Now.”

  Maja swivelled in her skimchair to look at Luta. “You’re not saying we should go through without waiting for them? Just abandon the Dorland?”

  In my peripheral vision, I saw Commander Yu twitch, but he said nothing. The ship and crew would not survive if we left them.

  Luta didn’t answer either, just looked at me to see what I’d say.

  I had the power of command and was fully capable of making that decision. I hesitated, weighing options. We weren’t sure this plan to pull the ship through after us would work. The Dorland might still meet with disaster if they tried to ride the Tane Ikai’s tail through the wormhole. They might not even make it inside the wormhole, and be abandoned to the oncoming Chron squadron anyway.

  I’d ordered ships and crews into battle, into dangerous situations, and not all of them had returned. But I had never abandoned anyone with a chance.

  And yet we had to warn Nearspace as quickly as possible.

  At the engineering console, Jahelia looked up and our eyes met, but hers were unreadable. If she was trying to send me a message—challenge, support, anything—I wasn’t getting it. She didn’t seem at all flustered by the moment we’d shared on the planet. I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.

  “Wait. We don’t have to make that decision,” Baden said suddenly, turning his chair to look at me. “We know—the Corvids told us, and it worked this way when we came through—that when the activator drive opens the wormhole, it stays open for a while. It’s not like our skip drive, which only holds the wormhole open when the ship is inside it. Right?”

  He looked to Luta for confirmation and she nodded slowly. “It closes after a time, or if the ship with the activator gets too far away from it.”

  “Right. So, we should be able to open the wormhole now and send a message through—the Protectorate ships stationed around the end of the Split will get it and relay it to Farview and Holles. Just as fast as if we went through ourselves. And the wormhole will still be open for us to go through when the Dorland gets here.”

  “We won’t know for sure that they received the message, if they can’t send back. It’s still a risk,” I said. “But one that I’m willing to take.”

  Commander Yu’s face cleared. He must have been holding it steady, trying not to reveal his emotions, but the relief was plain now.

  Luta also looked relieved. “I don’t think the Corvids actually told us how much time we could count on. Viss?” she asked over the ship’s comm. “How long does a ghosted wormhole stay active?”

  “I’ll check the information the Corvids gave us with the drive,” came the response, “but it has to be a couple of hours. Time to make a surprise attack and disappear back through before the wormhole goes away. And Captain,” Viss continued, “I think our best chance for success will come if we’re moving at speed when we enter the wormhole.”

  “Why?” Luta asked.

  “Because that’s what worked for the Dorland before,” Viss answered. “Let’s keep as many of the variables the same as we can.”

  I turned to Yu. “All right, back to what Luta said earlier. Commander, I can’t consult with Admiral Mauronet on pulling the Dorland through after us, but I’d like input from someone on your command team. What about the risk?”

  The commander turned his eyes to the viewscreen for a moment, although the ship and its dangerous pursuers were far too distant to see. Finally, he said, “I think it’s the best option, Admiral. They don’t stand a chance in this system, now that they’ve been discovered by the Chron. If they could have slipped through undetected—but that’s a moot point. They didn’t. And if they make it through with us, they’ll be on the other side to help defend against whatever’s coming. Our pilot—she did it once. I’m sure she can do it again.”

  I nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll tell them to follow us in.”

  Sedmamin returned from First Aid and settled himself in a skimchair, folding his arms as best he could and glaring at us all.

  Luta ignored him. “Baden, Lanar will tell you what to send through for Fleet Commander Holles. As soon as that’s ready, Viss, let’s get that wormhole open.”

  Viss and Rei coordinated to maneuver the ship into the correct position to fire the activator drive at the operant moon. From here, we also had enough distance to get a good “running start” at the wormhole, as Viss had advised. I’d tell the Dorland to get close enough to feel the heat of the Tane Ikai’s engines—well, figuratively, anyway.

  I tore my eyes away from the phalanx of dots moving toward us on Yuskeya’s screen, and went to bend over Baden’s shoulder and compose a message for Regina. As succinctly as possible, I outlined the imminent threat and told her we’d be coming through the wormhole first, with the Dorland in tow. I didn’t want any Protectorate ships reflexively opening fire until we were well clear of the Split.

  Baden keyed the message and nodded to Luta.

  “Viss, ready to fire the activator drive. Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Firing now.”

  A flash glimmered around the back of the ship as the drive fired, although it generated nothing visible toward the operant moon.

  “Yuskeya?” I prompted.

  She nodded. “It worked. The moon is generating the same rays we read in Woodroct’s Star. They’re streaming directly into the wormhole.”

  I’d never seen a wormhole activated by one of the Chron operant artifacts, and I stood transfixed. The dark shadow of the wormhole mouth began to glow blue as runnels of plasma flowed like lava around the edges. Fingers of plasma stretched inward from all sides as if drawn inexorably toward each other. When they met, the centre began a slow rotation, increasing in speed until it swirled like a whirlpool, shot through with silver. I flinched as a cone of silver-blue light reached out from its centre as if it might grasp us. Rei had kept us back, but the cone strained toward us. I had the oddest impression that it was trying to pull us in. It was stranger than any other wormhole I’d ever seen, weirdly beautiful but dangerous-looking, too. It felt . . . hungry.

  Luta said, “Baden, send the message.” Her words broke the mesmerizing spell the wormhole had cast on me. I had to look away, so I glanced around the bridge. Everyone, even Sedmamin, seemed transfixed by the terrifying beauty of the wormhole we were about to fly into. I turned my eyes back to the viewscreen and waited for the Dorland to get close enough to talk.

  Chapter 26 – Luta

  Going Rogue

  BADEN SWORE UNDER his breath.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  His fingers slid over the communications console. “Message to Fleet Commander Holles bounced back,” he said tersely.

  “Try again.”

  “I am.”

  Lanar caught my eye and we shared a moment of silent desperation. It felt like walls were closing in on us. We were all that stood between the Dorland and death, and all that stood between Nearspace and an onslaught they were barely prepared for.

  Baden sat back from the console and clasped his hands behind his neck. “It won’t go,” he said. “Maybe it can’t get past the intersection of the two wormholes.”

  “Or maybe there is no intersection,” Maja said in a bleak voice. “Maybe the activator drive isn’t making the two wormholes link.”

  I could almost feel the chill spreading over the bridge at my daughter’s words. If this wormhole didn’t link to the Split, we might emerge anywhere. Nearspace, Otherspace—inside a star. We were taking as big a chance as any wormhole spelunker diving in to an untested wormhole.

  Sedmamin opened his mouth and I looked at him. He shut it again.

  I ran a hand over my face. “No. I have to believe that part is working. That’s our assumption and we’ll stick to it. The message isn’t going through for some other reason—like Baden said, maybe it can’t
pass the intersection.” I glanced at the main viewscreen, where Yuskeya had opened a corner image of her screen, and the oncoming Dorland and its pursuers. The Dorland was just on the outer edge of our short-range scan. “We can’t change the plan now.”

  Lanar said carefully, “There won’t be time for the Protectorate to get many more ships in place.” He wasn’t arguing with me, just stating a fact.

  “I know.” I stood up. It felt right to be standing up when I said what I was about to say. “That’s why we’re going to blow up the Split.”

  I don’t know if there had ever been such complete, shocked silence on the bridge of the Tane Ikai before. Jahelia broke it.

  “Fek, yeah,” she said with a grin.

  “Another wormhole will spawn in its place,” Hirin observed. “The Corvids told us that.”

  “Yes, but not right away,” I said. “It buys us time, and time is in short supply.”

  Lanar still looked a little shocked, but he managed to say, “Luta, I can’t order the Dorland to do that. Destroy a wormhole? That’s beyond my decision-making authority.”

  “The Dorland isn’t going to do it,” I said. “I am. If you and Commander Yu—and even Yuskeya—should leave the bridge to protect yourselves, I understand.”

  “We saw what happened when an energy weapon was fired into a wormhole,” Hirin said reflectively. “I think the particle beam would do it.”

  “I can’t let you do this,” Lanar said, regaining some of his composure. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “For once, I am in complete agreement with the Admiral,” Sedmamin said. “Admiral Mahane, you must take control of this vessel. I know this is your sister, but she’s obviously—”

  “Shut up, Sedmamin,” Lanar said without even looking at the ex-Chairman.

  “I’m not saying yea or nay,” Rei offered, “but remember that the Dorland is going to be behind us. We’ll have to get them clear before we do it.”

  “We’ll have to get everyone in the vicinity clear,” Viss said over the ship’s comm. He was always privy to the bridge conversations. “When the Corvids wrecked the other wormhole, we were tossed around pretty good, and as I recall we were all out for a minute or two. And we weren’t even all that close.”

  But I didn’t answer either of them. I took the few steps that separated me from Lanar and put my hands on his arms. “You don’t have to be part of this, Lanar. But it’s the only move we have in the game. You want me to lock you up in your quarters, I’ll do that. But I’m not Protectorate, little brother, and,” I leaned closer to put my mouth next to his ear, because this was for him alone, “you’re not the boss of me.”

  OKEJ, MAYBE TECHNICALLY he was the boss of me. The Nearspace Protectorate administered the law in Nearspace wherever there was no planetary jurisdiction.

  But we weren’t in Nearspace, were we? And by the time we were through the Split and back in that jurisdiction, things would be moving too fast to worry about it.

  My brother looked down at me for a long moment. Finally, he said, “If you do this, Regina might not want you to join the Protectorate anymore.”

  I realized I’d been holding my breath, not entirely sure if Lanar could accept my decision. “And that’s a risk I’m willing to take.” I smiled and gave him a quick hug, then went back to the command chair. “Let’s make a plan, people.”

  Sedmamin announced that he was going to his room. “Perhaps someone will come and tell me if we make it through this alive,” he said sarcastically. I couldn’t say I was sorry to see him leave, since it removed an extra distraction we didn’t need.

  “He’ll be back before long, anyway,” Baden predicted.

  By the time we made contact with Commander Mattu, we’d mapped out a sequence of actions we hoped would work. We’d enter the wormhole at speed, with the Dorland close behind. As soon as we transitioned from the ghosted wormhole to the Split, Baden would send a message ahead of us telling the Protectorate forces to move back from the wormhole and not to fire on us when we came through. The Dorland would be instructed to veer off in one direction and we’d fly straight, firing the particle beam weapon from the aft cannon into the mouth of the Split. Then we’d scramble away as fast as the burst drive would take us. The bridge fairly thrummed with tension, but everyone knew their role. None of the Protectorate officers chose to leave the bridge, which made me feel strangely proud. Finally, when I thought I might not be able to stand it any longer, Baden spoke.

  “They should be in range. Sending a comm to the Dorland and Commander Mattu now.”

  After only a few seconds he turned to me with a nod. “They’ve pinged back. Admiral, you’re on.”

  “Commander Mattu, this is Admiral Lanar Mahane of the NPV S. Cheswick. Are you under attack?”

  The response came back almost immediately. “Confirm that, Admiral. Hostiles in pursuit. Can you assist?”

  Lanar looked at me and told the Commander as briefly as possible the plan we’d come up with. “Admiral Mauronet is incapacitated, but Commander Yu is here with me, if you’d like to speak with him,” Lanar said at the end. “I understand that this situation is highly irregular, but we’re trying to get everyone back to Nearspace in one piece and we think this is the best chance.” We’d decided not to tell the Dorland crew exactly what we were planning to do to the Split—we didn’t need to argue with anyone else about it. Lanar had told Mattu that getting out of the way was to allow other ships to take up positions around the wormhole mouth.

  Mattu hesitated for a moment, taking it all in, I guessed. Commander Yu stepped in to reassure him. “I concur with the Admiral’s assessment of the situation,” he said firmly. “It’s the best chance we have.”

  “Then we’ll follow your plan,” Commander Mattu said. “We’re outrunning them for now, but it can’t last forever. I’m glad to hear there’s no-one left to retrieve from the planet.”

  Since Yu and Mattu had both been on the bridge when the Dorland followed the Chron ship through the Split and the ghosted wormhole, I told them to simply do whatever they’d done that day. It didn’t seem very complicated—they’d done nothing except engage their own skip drive to enter the Split, and then simply followed the Chron ship through as closely as they could.

  “I know you’ve been through the Split once,” I finished, “but my pilot has done it several times. I’m going to get her to pass along any tips she has for a safe passage. It’s going to be a trickier proposition going back the other way, transitioning between the two wormholes.”

  Rei threw a look over her shoulder at me that asked in no uncertain terms why I hadn’t prepared her for this, but turned back to do the best she could. I knew I’d catch hell for that later.

  Actually, if we pulled this off, I’d be happy to let Rei yell at me all she wanted.

  The last bit of waiting for the Dorland to reach us was the hardest. The Chron ships kept pace but didn’t gain, but even more had appeared on the long-range scan. They obviously hadn’t known we’d discovered their wormhole doorway, but as they got close enough, they were finding out now. The glowing cone of plasma from the activated wormhole shone like a beacon. If we didn’t manage to shut down this entry point into Delta Pavonis, they’d roll over Nearspace like a spidery black tide, and no-one would ever even know about PrimeCorp’s role in our civilization’s downfall.

  SEVERAL OF THE lead ships surprised us with a burst of speed as the Dorland drew close. They’d held back, but they had burst technology, too; ours had probably been reverse-engineered from theirs. But they’d left it too late, and the Dorland wasn’t giving up with escape from the system in sight. Whoever was piloting managed to wring a little more speed out of the drives.

  “Rei, Viss, are we ready to go?” I asked.

  They both answered in the affirmative just as the Dorland’s shields flared.

  “Chron pursuers have opened fire,” Yuskeya reported. “Dorland is taking evasive action.”

  “That will slow them down,” Jahelia sai
d. “They should just keep coming and take the hits.”

  “They’ll have to drop their shields to enter the wormhole,” Lanar said. “They’ll have to get loose to do that safely.”

  I stood up again, but there was nowhere to go and nothing to do. We couldn’t go to their aid without risking getting too far away from the wormhole and having it close. They had to make it to us. We were the getaway car, and all we could do was sit and keep the engine running.

  “We could angle a bit and give them some covering fire,” Hirin suggested.

  “Maybe. But I’m afraid we might hit the Dorland.”

  The shields flashed again. “Open a comm channel to them, please,” Lanar said.

  When Commander Mattu answered, Lanar said briefly, “We’re watching. Just stay with the plan and we’ll take you through.”

  “Thank you, Admiral,” the Commander replied. Light flashed around him as the shields absorbed another impact. “I think we’ll make it.”

  “Raise our shields,” I told Hirin. “Let’s not take any chances. Drop them just as we enter the wormhole.”

  It was a good thing we did so, since some of the oncoming Chron launched a few tentative torps in our direction as well. They were too far out, but it gave me something else to worry about—what if a rogue torpedo were pulled into the wormhole? I suspect one of the Chron commanders must have had the same notion, because after a few attempts, they stopped shooting at us.

  As the Dorland neared, some of the pursuing Chron ships spread out as if to flank us, but they must have known we planned to escape through the wormhole. Maybe they thought it safer to attack us from the sides, but we didn’t wait around to find out.

  Sedmamin slipped quietly onto the bridge and went back to his chair. Baden threw me a wink.

  “Baden, send the tracer ping,” I said. I didn’t know if we could trust the result, since the communications signal hadn’t made it through, but we at least had to try to warn anyone on the other end of the wormhole that we were coming through.