A Gulf in Time

by Chris Kennedy

  Chapter Nine

  Underground Tunnels, Trissek, Valex

  “How much farther?” Master Chief commed from the back of the platoon 15 minutes later.

  “I show about five minutes to the surface,” Calvin said, looking at the mapping feature of his suit. “Night, what have you got?”

  “I show the same. We’re almost there. What’s up?”

  “The snakes are starting to push up on us,” Master Chief said. “They’re getting closer and closer, and I’m seeing movement at the cross-passages.”

  “Feel free to back them off with a few well-placed explosives,” Calvin said. “Collapse anything you want behind you as you go.”

  “Wilco.”

  Calvin could feel the vibrations through his feet as grenades went off behind him.

  “Shit! That seems to have pissed them off! They’re charging us! Stand by.” The vibrations in the floor increased in frequency and intensity. “Okay, we dropped some of the tunnel, and Weinert is holding them at bay for now. We’re headed toward you on the double.”

  Night pointed in front of them. “Looks like the passageway gets lighter up there, sir. I think we’re almost to the surface. Doesn’t seem to be any defenses between us and the entrance.”

  “I know,” Calvin said, “and that’s making me really nervous.”

  * * *

  Viper 01, West of Trissek, Valex

  “Lights, Calvin, we’re almost to the surface. Where are you?”

  Lieutenant Commander Sarah ‘Lights’ Brighton, the XO of the Spacehawk Squadron, glanced out the canopy of her cockpit before answering. “I’m about 20 miles west of the entrance to the city. I’ve got a flight of four and another flight of four flying top cover. The shuttles are 20 miles north of your position. Be advised, the area around the entrance is crawling with snakes. They have a number of defensive sites set up that we’ll have to take out before you emerge.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of. It’s almost as if we’re being herded out.”

  “Well, I don’t think they’ve seen us yet, and if they have, they haven’t taken any shots at us, so they may not have any antiaircraft weapons. Just let me know when you’re ready, and we’ll start the snake roast.”

  “We’re ready. They’re pushing us hard from behind, so we figured there was something nasty waiting for us up top. Go ahead and clear us a landing zone. Beware, though, we know they have lasers they’ll be able to hit you with.”

  “We’ll do it to them before they do it to us. Lights, out.” She looked over to her Weapons Systems Officer, Lieutenant Jim Osborne. “Ready to go, Ozzy?”

  “Damn right I am. I’ve got the targeting loaded into the missiles. Viper 02 has the other fixed positions, and the second section’s loaded with bombs to cover the area around the entrance.”

  Lights nodded. “Here we go, then.” She switched to the squadron comm as she began climbing. “02, you’re with me. We’ll go in high and hit their defensive sites. 03 and 04, you’ve got anything we miss.”

  The space fighter’s controls were light in her hands, and she quickly climbed to 20,000 feet before rolling the craft over into a dive on the target. “Viper 01’s in hot!”

  “02’s in hot right behind you. Deconflicted.”

  Lights nodded. Her wingman had shifted slightly to the south to make sure his missiles didn’t hit her on the way to their target. Not getting fragged by friendly fire was a good thing, and a factor of good procedures and practice. Since they hadn’t had as much practice recently as she’d have liked, at least the procedures were in place to keep her and Ozzy safe.

  “Master arm is on,” Ozzy said, throwing the switch. “Pickle’s hot.” Lights made sure her finger stayed clear of the trigger. No one liked premature release.

  “Designating…now,” Ozzy said as the nose of the plane came down on the target.

  Glowing carets illuminated on the targeted positions, and Lights’ eyes swept across them. All seemed to be on the snakes’ positions, and she nodded. “Firing,” she said and squeezed the trigger.

  In rapid succession, the four missiles jumped from the wings of her craft and raced forward toward the T’Chillen’s defensive positions.

  “Good release,” Ozzy said. “Master arm is off,” he added as he threw the switch.

  “01 is off, safe,” Lights commed as she pulled up and away from the target. A couple of laser beams went past the craft, but they weren’t very close.

  “Eat it, snakes!” Ozzy exclaimed as he watched the targeting video. “Looks like four good hits.”

  Their wingman called off their target run, and another four impacts blossomed on the targeting camera. Lights looked out the canopy and could see the dust clouds rising from their hits, as well as a lot of motion on the ground. Damn snakes have to be big in order to see them from this height, she thought.

  Two space fighters way below her rocketed toward the city entrance. “03 and 04 in hot!” Lieutenant Denise Michel called. Lights’ eyes tracked the craft as they raced toward the smoke and dust clouds. Tiny speckles detached as they went past and turned into silver streams as the cluster bombs opened. A number of lasers reached up to greet the space fighters; far fewer chased after them after the weapons exploded.

  “Cover Flight, did you see where the lasers are coming from?” Lights asked.

  “01, Cover Flight, I see a couple of positions that are still in operation.”

  “Take ‘em out.” Lights left it to the section leader to assign individual targets to the crews under his command.

  “Cover flight’s in hot!” Lights looked up as she circled and saw flashes from the craft diving from high overhead. Flashes of fire indicated a number of missile launches, then the craft were pulling out of their dives and returning to their designated altitudes. “Targets neutralized.”

  Lights nodded. She hadn’t seen any lasers after the last attack. “Roger that,” she commed. “Keep watch for pop-up targets.” She heard two mic clicks, indicating their agreement. “Shuttles, you’re cleared for extraction.”

  “We’re on our way.”

  * * *

  The tremors from the bombing faded.

  “Shuttles are inbound. ETA two minutes.”

  “Copy,” Calvin replied. He switched to the platoon frequency. “Let’s go!” he urged. “Shuttles will be here in a couple of minutes.”

  “On our way,” Master Chief replied. “Whatever just happened got them all riled up again.”

  “Feel free to drop more of the tunnel on them,” Calvin said. “I’m not coming back, and I’m not worried about relations with them at this point.”

  “You got it, sir.” The ground shook even harder than it had before. “Okay, that helps some. We’re going to need some medical attention when we get to the ship.”

  “What happened?” Calvin asked.

  “Let’s just say you shouldn’t tell Bad Twin to drop a tunnel, as he gets a little over enthusiastic about it. The tunnel’s down, but we’re a little scorched.” There was a pause, and then he added, “Be with you in a minute.”

  Calvin’s vanguard reached the entrance and cautiously looked outside. “Not much left out here,” Dantone said. “Lots of dead snakes and pieces of dead snakes. I’m going out.” He stepped out and went around the corner of the entranceway that had been erected. Several explosions followed.

  “There were two more hiding out behind the structure,” Dantone called. “It’s safe to come out now.”

  Calvin led the platoon out the entranceway. He could see two of the T’Chillen defensive positions from the entrance. Both had been blasted apart. “Hey, Night. How many lasers have we collected so far?”

  “Six, I think.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Calvin pointed to one of the positions. “I see three lasers over there, and at least two more at the site on the other side. “That makes 11, or is there some sort of new math I’m not aware of?”

  “Nope. That’s 11.”

  “What d
o you make of that?”

  “We’ve been lied to?”

  “Yeah. That’s what I’m thinking, too.” The two shuttles came in, and one of them landed. The other fired a few blasts from its laser, then it set down, too. Their back ramps were open, and crewmen waved them over.

  “Want me to have someone grab those rifles?” Night asked.

  “Yeah. If you see any more, bring them, too.”

  “You mean like those two over there?” Night asked, pointing to two T’Chillen bodies out in the open, which each had a laser rifle.

  “Yeah. Bring ‘em.” Calvin sighed. “And those three over there, too.”

  * * *

  Administrator’s Office, Mineral Cartel Station, Klahr System

  Master Chief tossed the last laser rifle onto the conference table, and the receiver group dug into the highly polished wood. The administrator winced, but didn’t complain.

  “That’s what we found,” Calvin said. “Twenty-two rifles.”

  “But you got all of them?” the administrator asked with hope in his voice.

  “No!” Calvin exclaimed. “I can almost guarantee that we didn’t get them all. The king’s guard had them. Random soldiers had them. Hell, there’s probably an armory there that’s stocked with them. Who the hell knows?”

  “Well, you have to go back and get the rest,” the administrator said.

  “Oh, no we don’t!” Calvin exclaimed. “You told us to get 10. We brought you back 10, plus that many more. Plus a couple of extras. The one thing I know for sure is I’m not going back into that snake hole looking for more of your rifles. How many of them did you really lose?”

  “We only lost 10, but it is as I feared; they are able to replicate them, or manufacture them…or something. We knew they were good at reverse engineering, which is why we needed to get them back quickly. Apparently you weren’t fast enough.”

  “Well, that’s not on us. There’s no telling how many of them exist now, nor where they might be. They may be in other cities around the planet now, for all we know. There’s no way to ensure you get them all or to destroy them.”

  “What do you mean? We could nuke them from orbit.”

  “Yeah, but there’s no way to be sure you get them all. Some of those tunnels go deep into the planet; there’s no way you could destroy all their cities. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you can’t put this shit back into the horse—the technology is out, and you’re going to have to deal with it.”

  “What is a horse and why would you want to put excrement back into it?” the administrator asked.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Calvin said. “What does matter is we did what you asked. We brought you back 10 laser rifles. Are you going to make good on your end of the deal?”

  The administrator looked down at the table as if considering, then back up. “What if I were to pay you?”

  “Have you not been listening?” Calvin exclaimed. “We aren’t going back underground with the T’Chillen. We aren’t going to fight 30-foot-long snakes for you. And we’re definitely not going to go look for more of your rifles, especially since there’s no way to tell how many of them actually exist. It isn’t going to happen! We did what you asked us to—we brought back these rifles for you. Are you going to open the stargate or not?”

  “Yes, I will open it for you,” the administrator said. “Proprietor Zelph will take care of you.”

  “I’m not sure I like the way you said that,” Captain Sheppard said. “What exactly is a proprietor?”

  “Oh, there is nothing to be worried about with the proprietor,” Yorch said, his words coming in a rush. “He is my boss’ boss, so he will be able to help you more than I can. A proprietor is the head of a cartel division, in this case, the Mineral Cartel’s Mining Division. He oversees all the Mineral Cartel’s mining operations, including aero-mining, like what we do here. Below the proprietor are directors, which run individual companies. I report to Director Elbet, who is in charge of Liltor Mining, Incorporated. As an administrator, I manage the company’s operations in-system. Under me I have managers, who manage the different company divisions in-system; chiefs, who run various sections of our operation; overseers who are shift supervisors; and the peons who actually do the work.”

  “Did you get all that, Calvin?” the CO asked. “I’m afraid there’s going to be a quiz later.”

  “I think I got that there were companies that make up the various cartels, and that each level has someone in charge, which makes sense. The company’s boss in a system is an administrator—like Administrator Yorch here. Above him is the company head, who was a…”

  “Director,” Yorch supplied. “My boss is a director.”

  “So a director runs the company,” Calvin said, “and then a proprietor, who’s a cartel division head, is above them.”

  “Correct,” the administrator said.

  “Do I want to know who’s above them?” the CO asked.

  “The proprietors report to the cartel’s chief executive officer, known as the principal. All the principals sit on the Council of Principals, which is the board that advises the emperor.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “Yes. The emperor is at the top of the organization chart.”

  “What does he do?”

  The administrator cocked his head as if he was confused. “The emperor is in charge of everything! I mean, what else would an emperor do, but supervise the running of an empire?”

  “So the emperor just uses the cartels to manage the empire?” Calvin asked.

  “Exactly,” the administrator said with a smile and the tone of a long-suffering teacher whose student has finally succeeded in solving the most basic of problems. “The cartels are set up to maintain efficiency within the empire.”

  “And how well is that working?” the CO asked.

  “Fairly well, most years. Sure, there is some overlap, and hostile takeovers happen sometimes—”

  “Sometimes?” the CO asked.

  “Well, more often than that, if the truth were known,” the administrator said. “That is why you do not see any of the other cartels in this system. We would be in competition with them for resources and such.”

  “I’d think it would be more efficient to work with the other cartels than against them,” Calvin said. “If the object really is efficiency.”

  “Well, we do work with other cartels sometimes,” Yorch replied, “but usually only to crush a third cartel and distribute the profits between us.”

  “It sounds like the object is actually competition, not efficiency,” Calvin noted.

  “Is there anything besides competition that will make companies more efficient? If you have a company and I have a company, we compete to be the most efficient, because, at the end, there can be only one winner. If there is only my company and no other in competition with it, what is the company’s impetus to be efficient? There is none.”

  “But you just said it’s good that there aren’t any other cartels in this system, because you’d be competing with them. You said it like it was a bad thing.”

  “Oh, that is different. That is competition over resources in a system, not competition in general. There is a difference. It is good to compete, but not that closely, because tempers get frayed, and there’s always the potential for a hostile takeover of the company.”

  “But isn’t that still competition?”

  “No, that is different. The emperor has decreed that competition inside a system is bad, because it leads to inefficiencies. Only one cartel can be in a system at a time. Competition is good, but it is better to have competition separately.”

  “Does that make any sense to you?” Calvin asked, turning to the CO. “All I know is, it’s making my head hurt.”

  “Mine, too,” the CO replied. “I think we’ve seen enough in this system.” He turned back to the administrator. “As you asked, we returned your rifles and more from the T’Chillen. Are you going to make good on your part of the dea
l or not?”

  “Oh, yes. I will send you along to my proprietor, Proprietor Zelph, who is two systems further along, and on your way to Trrgos System, where I hope you find what you are looking for.”

  “Thank you,” the CO said. “I appreciate your assistance. That will save us—and you—a lot of trouble.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Ten

  Proprietor’s Office, Mineral Cartel Station, Jangeth System

  The proprietor folded both sets of hands on the table. “Thank you very much for coming.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Captain Sheppard said, “although we really didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. This is the second time we’ve come to a system where the stargate to leave was turned off. In our time, that just doesn’t happen. Hopefully we can work things out quickly with you to get it turned back on again, as we’re currently on a mission and need to be on our way.”

  The proprietor’s office was inside one of the largest space stations Calvin had ever seen, and the station in general—and the proprietor’s office in particular—had spared no expense. Real wood paneling covered the walls, with a variety of awards, images, and trophies scattered throughout. The polished wood was impressive, and the gold and platinum accents gleamed throughout in the recessed lighting.

  “Yes,” the proprietor said, drawing out the final consonant. Like Administrator Yorch, the man was humanoid, but with four arms. Unlike the administrator, he seemed to think a lot slower, and he drew out his words in an effort to cover up his delay in responding. “I heard from my associate in the Klahr System about your…mission. How you say you are from the future and trying to save your society, and so forth.”

  “But you don’t believe him.”

  “I don’t really…know,” the proprietor said. “You certainly have a ship that is unlike anything I have ever seen, and one I have been unable to find on the ‘Net. I have done a number of searches, and have been unable to find anything like it in antiquity, either, from back when we actually had military forces. So you either are what you say you are, or you are an incredibly well-financed cover story for something…else.”