“It’s possible,” she said, shrugging. “I think they’ve already killed at least one person to bury the evidence. This is all tied together somehow with something that happened on the Pegasus.”
“You’re talking about Zora Murphy,” Tana said, nodding.
“Good guess,” Katryna asked. “Caught that from the newswaves?”
“Yes, but it wasn’t a guess,” she said. “Investigator General Wentworth came to me for some unusual information. They wanted to get a specialized genotyping. They already know that the killer poisoned her and then tried to make it look like blunt force trauma.”
“Apparently someone really wanted Miss Murphy out of the picture,” Katryna said. “Double tapping is pretty serious.”
“I suspect she was an intelligence operative and probably a very narrow type of specialist.” Tana picked up her wineglass and walked across the room.
“And you know that how?” Katryna asked, following her over and sitting down across from her.
Tana sat stone faced. She’s not telling.
“They sent me a tissue sample to work up. When we dug into it, we discovered her DNA didn’t match any genetic record in the system.”
“How does that say she was a spy?” Katryna asked, shaking her head.
“There are very few places where you can get records clean enough to spoof a sigma level genotype. And none of them exist officially,” she said, shrugging. “WellCartel tracks all of them and let’s leave it at that.”
Katryna felt another layer of chaos materialize on the horizon and she had no clue what was driving it. She thought she was finally collating her reality, but Tana’s words revealed there might be forces creating storms that were still well beyond her reach.
“Aren’t you full of surprises?” she said, seeing for the first time a side to her friend that was more than a little disconcerting.
Tana winked. “No one gets to where we are without something hiding behind them,” she said. “I know you’re probably shocked because you didn’t see that in me, but we all have things we don’t share.”
“You’re right I’m sure, but you know something else don’t you?” Katryna asked not sure if she wanted to know the answer.
“So do you.” Tana shrugged.
Jakob Waltz: Neptune L-4 Trojan Cluster:
Science was boring. Usually. But once again, those who didn’t have duties elsewhere were sitting strapped in around the galley table waiting for the results of the timing experiment. Rocky rode out the shockwaves in main engineering where she’d rigged the data collection hardware, but since there weren’t seats down there, everyone else had to wait.
The main network was shot full of holes from building the workaround for the com, so she couldn’t bounce the results up to their screen as they came in. Once she reset the breakers, she would physically carry the results on her thinpad.
Fifteen minutes and fourteen seconds later the shockwaves ended, the lights on the ship flickered as she tripped the breakers, and then there was silence.
Another minute passed. “Rocky, have you got the data?” Chei asked as the silence threatened to go on interminably.
“Da. I have data,” she said. “Is just … anomalous.”
“What’s that mean?” Jeph asked. “Didn’t it record right?”
“Recording is accurate,” she said. “I am on my way.” She cut the link and left them staring at each other wondering what the hell to expect.
Kiro and Anju both arrived before Rocky pulled herself over the railing and took a seat at the end of the table. She looked like she’d been through a religious experience. She shook her head. “Results are impossible.”
Chei nodded and grinned like he understood what she was about to say.
“Shockwave hit reactors sixty-six picoseconds before Dutch’s quantum processor,” she said.
“Before? That means the effect is coming from the stern … wait picoseconds? Didn’t you say it takes almost 700 nanoseconds to travel that distance?” Danel asked.
Chei’s grin threatened to explode as he waited for the engineer to continue.
“Is correct. Would take 694 nanoseconds for photon to make trip. Anything else would take longer.”
Danel tapped the numbers into his thinpad and whistled. “That means the shockwave is traveling 10,515 times the speed of light.”
“Exactly,” Rocky said. “Is not possible.”
Jeph turned to Chei and glared. “Obviously you’re not surprised.”
He shook his head. “Maybe a little.” He stretched in his seat before he explained. “There was this thought experiment we did once where we contemplated a way for information to be transmitted via quantum entanglement. Since information is not the same as particles or energy, it might move through spacetime faster than light. But we never had a way to prove it.”
“You expected result?” Rocky asked, frustration replacing the bewilderment on her face. “You could have advised me.”
“I wasn’t sure what to expect,” he said. “This was one possibility, but only one of many. It honestly doesn’t fit what I’d have expected. It’s too slow.”
“Too slow?” she asked, blinking several times in shock.
“By a factor of three,” he said. “Given what we assume to be the energy distribution of the quantum vacuum across space, this implies the density of the local region is too low.”
“What does that mean?” Jeph asked.
“It would work like sound. The lower the density, the slower it propagates,” he said.
“Is it possible that your quantum quicksand is reducing this energy and slowing the shockwave?” Danel asked, shaking his head. “Slowing it down to faster than anything ever measured by mankind. That’s ironic isn’t it?”
“It is,” Chei said, nodding. “It would make sense, too.”
“Is also possible for effect to have gradient rather than uniform density?” Rocky asked.
“Theoretically it could,” Chei said. “Why?”
“The HCF reactors are heating unevenly. Has been ongoing problem for several days,” she said.
“There’s a problem with the reactors?” Jeph asked.
“Is minor, but measurable. All six reactors show similar readings.”
“Heating how?” Chei asked.
“Reactor uses magnetic compression of stimulated helium atoms to create fusion. Reaction dumps energy directly to photon receptors in vessels. Rather than releasing energy in uniform spherical distribution, photon dissipation is irregular within chamber.”
“That could scan if there’s a flux to the sink effect,” Chei said, pulling out his thinpad and tapping calculations into it furiously. “It might mean that energy sinks less efficiently along one axis. If so, that might show a way out of here.”
“Can you tell which direction this gradient slopes?” Jeph asked.
“Yes,” Rocky said. “Energy seems to collect on same receptor plates on all six reactors.”
“That would be the direction we’d need to travel,” Chei said.
“Problem,” Rocky said. “Is directly sternward.”
Toward the source of the shockwaves.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
FleetCartel Executive Offices: Galileo Station: Lunar Lagrange One:
Chancellor Roja hadn’t slept and arrived at her office early, with both eyeballs feeling like they were bleeding. She must have looked as bad as her eyes felt because Graison stared at her as she walked through the outer office. He was standing by the door to his own office apparently wanting to talk to her.
“Double black … with a shot of guarana,” she said, answering his unspoken question. She paused at the door and turned to face him. “Yes? You need something?”
“Chancellor Markhas left me a message to ask if you followed up on the Jakob Waltz yet,” he said.
“Shit. No,” she said. “Get me Fleet Charter Operations on com,” she said.
“Yes ma’am,” he said, his tone showing his confusion a
s to which one to do first.
“Com, then hardball,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face. Morning is overrated, she thought, turning to disappear into her office.
By the time she reached her desk, her comlink light was on. She crashed down into her seat with a sigh and blinked several times. It didn’t help. Sandpaper eyelids are overrated too.
She tapped the icon and opened the link.
“Charter Operations, may I help you?” Perkiness was a dangerous asset this morning and the clerk had it in abundance.
“This is Chancellor Roja,” she said her voice just short of a growl. “I need you to pull up the registration and charter info on an ice prospector ship operating under the registry name of Jakob Waltz.”
“An ice prospector? Do you mean a processor or hauler?” the woman asked, her candy-coated veneer of a smile crumbling under Roja’s withering gaze.
“From what I know it is neither,” she said.
“Yes ma’am,” she said, looking down at her console and typing in the file request. “I have it here. The name is registered to a custom D-class keel operating under a charter from SourceCartel. There was additional financing done through DevCartel. The charter was negotiated beginning 2235.156 and commissioned on 2237.016. The vessel launched from Ceres Alpha on 2239.095.”
“That sounds right,” Katryna said. Her door opened and her assistant came in with a hardball and a thinpad that had her schedule of meetings for the day. He set them both on the corner of her desk and backed out.
“Can you link me the relevant data?” the chancellor asked. “I need to know everything about this ship including crew and resource manifest. If you have the engineering specs, throw that in too.”
“Yes ma’am,” the clerk said. “Why didn’t you ask SourceCartel for this? I’m sure their information office could provide the additional details you’re requesting.”
“At this point, this is not something I want them to know I am interested in,” she said. “It’s part of an ongoing investigation and the less anyone knows the better.”
“Of course ma’am,” she said, tapping in the command to organize the data file for delivery. “Where do you want it sent?”
“To my personal core,” the chancellor said. “Encrypt it and then forget you ever talked to me about it.”
“Yes ma’am. Anything else I can do for you?” she asked.
“Not at the moment. You’ve been very helpful.” She closed the connection as the file appeared on her desktop.
Katryna slid the thinpad toward her with a fingertip and read her first appointment off the list. Glancing up at the chrono, she realized that she had almost two hours.
“Plenty of time,” she said to herself. She tapped the icon to decrypt the file and sat back as it unspooled across her console screen. It took almost a full minute to unpack. “Or not.”
She read as far as the hardware manifest, then punched her personal comlink and barked, “I need the last known position on a ship called the Jakob Waltz. It is out in the Neptune L-4 Trojan Cluster. I want an absolute current fix on that ship.”
“Yes ma’am. Is there a problem?” her assistant said.
“Yah. Get me a Fleet Advisor in here too,” she said. “I might have to do a forced charter intervention and if I do, this is going to get messy.”
Jakob Waltz: Neptune L-4 Trojan Cluster:
A standard workpod was a three and a half meter sphere with a pilot couch, an engine, a life support system, and an array of manipulator arms. Windows covered half of the front, with smaller viewports off to each side. Seva was a big woman, even by earthly standards, but the space that was usually large enough for even her to be comfortable, wasn’t. She was wearing a PSE and a space suit over it, so with all the sensor gear that they mounted inside the pod, she felt crammed in as an after-thought.
She wasn’t sure why she volunteered to take a pod out during a set of shockwaves, but eight minutes before impact Seva cut loose from the airlock moorings and shot away from the ship. With the electrical load the extra gear put on the batteries, she only had an hour of operational time. If everything went according to plan, she’d be back inside in half that.
She boosted at full thrust for three minutes before she flipped around to stop her motion. Several kilometers out in open space, she was surprised how much different it felt to be hanging in the black instead of near an iceberg or asteroid. Most of her career had been in orbital shipyards and now, with nothing but the Jakob Waltz as a point of reference, it was startling how alone she felt.
Bouncing a ranging pulse off the ship to confirm that she was stationary, she pivoted the main window to face the point in space where they assumed the source of the waves to be and focused on bringing the instruments around her online. The tiny iceberg that sat at the center of their problems, was much too far away to see with the naked eye, but she linked one of the exterior optics to a manipulator arm screen above the window just so she could stare it down as it spit at them. It would give her the best view possible since they’d covered most of the window with the extra hardware.
As an afterthought she swung the com minidish to face it. None of the science types had mentioned doing that, but maybe it would be interesting to listen. Sometimes space made fascinating sounds in the radio spectrum. She patched the RF into her suit com and listened to the silence.
She pushed her body back into the acceleration mat behind her, cinching the straps tight across her chest and waist. Wedging her arms into the restraints, she pushed her knees up against the edge of the control panel. It wasn’t an ideal posture to face the pounding she expected, but it was the best she could do given the pod’s design.
“We show you three klick from the ship and we’re at ten seconds to impact,” Kiro said over the com. “You ready out there?”
“Ja. Good as can be,” she said. She scanned the console in front of her. Green lights on everything. “Data online across the board.”
“Copy. Rocky confirms all systems go,” he replied. “Brace for impact. Five sec.”
She pressed her knees harder against the panel. It was about a standard G on the ship, but Chei had warned that it might be a lot worse out here in the lightweight pod. She blew out a deep breath, and closed her eyes, focusing on Kiro’s voice. “Two … One … Impact.”
Nothing.
She looked at the screen again.
Silence other than the sound of her breathing into her mic pick-up.
“Where is it?” she asked, looking out a side window at the Waltz. It didn’t look any different.
“Where’s what?” Kiro asked confusion obvious in his voice.
“The shockwave? Did it not happen?”
“Yeah, it happened. Why?” Chei cut in on the channel.
“I got nothing out here. Whiffed me clean,” she said.
“Stand by,” he said.
She pinged the ship with another ranging pulse. It was moving in respect to her position.
“No fair leaving me out here,” she said.
“Say again?” Kiro asked.
“Ja. You guys are moving,” she said. “Or I am.”
Chei came back on the channel. “We want you to reposition closer to the ship. Like half the distance. You have under five minutes. Cando?”
“Copy,” she said, glancing at the chrono and slipping her arm free from the straps. She twisted the stick, rotating to shoot back toward the Waltz. After a minute she flipped and brought the pod back to relative zero. Spinning back into position, she braced again.
She glanced up at the screen attached to the optic. It looked out of focus or like someone had smeared it with grease. “Are you scanning my optics?” she asked. “Looks like one of them is foobed.”
“Did it come unstuck?” Kiro said.
She reached up, grabbed the back of the unit, and gave it a firm jerk. It didn’t wiggle. “That’s a no. Solid as stone.”
“Copy. Just brace and we’ll fix it between waves,” Chei said.
/> “Good with me,” she said, wedging her body back against the mat again. This time her eyes stayed glued to the screen even though the image seemed to be getting worse. The blurry area was getting wider as she watched. “Thinking the optic’s going deep.”
“Maybe not,” Danel said, jumping in. “That looks like something else to me.”
“What—” This time when it hit, she felt the shockwave as strong as if she was still on board. She gasped, not because it was more violent, but because the camera went completely out of focus when the punch landed.
She could see the wave approaching. An instant later the second blow came in and then the camera was clear again.
“Looks almost like a gravitational lens,” Danel explained. “It’s got to be gravity.”
“You mean like around a black hole?” Seva asked, a chill gripping her spine.
“Yeah, like that,” he said.
“Can I come in now? I really don’t want to be eaten.”
“Affirm on that,” Kiro said. “They want to look at the rest of the data you recorded. Just be careful since we’ve still got most of the cycle coming at us.”
“Copy,” she said, kicking off the ship to ship com.
Then she heard it. A faint pinging on her headset.
Government Residential Hub: Galileo Station: Lunar Lagrange One:
Arun settled into the plush recliner like he owned the world. Katryna invited him to her residence because she wasn’t sure she didn’t intend to kill him, and she wanted to be alone if that temptation took over. She brought him a cognac, dropped into the chair across from him, and studied his face. She took a sip of her scotch and held it for a second before she swallowed it, along with a fair portion of her rage. Fortunate for him.
“I do have a serious question for you,” she said, after letting the silence hang for several seconds.
“Of course,” he said.
“Are you out of your fragging mind?”
His eyes twitched several times as he tried to process her statement. “Not at my last exam, but that would probably be subject to interpretation. Why do you ask?”
“Because I can’t believe you would be stupid enough to send nuclear materials to where you suspect they’re weaponizing a secret fleet. Especially on an unarmed ship.”
Shan Takhu Legacy Box Set - With an Extra Bonus Story Page 13