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Chasing the Shadows

Page 20

by Maria V. Snyder


  Yenay and Bertie then leave the conference room with promises to contact everyone once the data has been examined. I’ve no idea what they really thought of my theories. Time will tell. Speaking of tell, I’ve a promise to keep.

  Before my parents can leave I draw in a deep breath and say, “Mom and Dad, can you stay? I’ve something I need to discuss with you.”

  They settle back in their seats. Radcliff gives me a probing look. I sigh. “Officers Radcliff and Morgan, can you remain as well?”

  Now I have all four adults’ undivided attention. Go me. I search for the right words—the ones that will make the most sense without causing undue alarm.

  “What’s wrong?” Mom asks when the quiet stretches past awkwardness.

  Unable to find the perfect combination, I blurt, “I can access the Q-net without using entanglers.”

  Confusion dominates and I do my best to explain. “…another dream, except it turned real, but I disentangled before I woke up so I didn’t get a killer migraine. Actually, I didn’t have any pain.”

  Stunned silence.

  “Can you prove it?” Morgan asks.

  I don’t feel particularly sleepy. But then she swivels to the terminal. Oh.

  Handing my mother my tangs, I say, “Yes, I can.”

  They all stare at me.

  “I can do it from here.” It’s not a boast, just part of the demonstration. They might as well learn the full extent of my freakish powers. Yes, that’s sarcasm, people.

  Morgan accesses the Q-net. And I concentrate on the screen like I would if I was sitting next to her with my tangs in my ears. Soon enough my vision blurs and then I’m trailing her to Jarren’s blockade.

  These are the areas I tested while you were gone. She shows me the grid we created to keep track. Two new sections are checked off.

  Any gaps? I ask.

  No. It’s tight.

  Are we going to implement the distraction protocol soon?

  Probably not for a while. Not until this business of crinkling Warriors is settled.

  Crinkling Warriors? You’re quite the comedian, Officer Morgan.

  And you’re quite the anomaly, Junior Officer Lawrence. Before I can counter, she adds, Time to disentangle.

  Only when I disengage with the Q-net do I learn that Morgan turned off the screen and I closed my eyes sometime during our short session. No one else knew what was going on.

  Morgan spins to face the others. “She was in the Q-net with me.”

  Her proclamation sets off a bombardment of questions. Yes, I should have told them sooner. No, I don’t have any pain. No, I don’t get random visions from the Q-net. Yes, I can tangle and disentangle at will, well, except when I’m dreaming when I inadvertently entangle. No, distance from the terminal doesn’t seem to matter. I elaborate on that point.

  “You accessed the Q-net through the portable! In the middle of the desert!” Mom presses her hands to her chest as if to keep from saying more.

  Since it was more of an outburst than a question, I don’t reply.

  “Did it cause you any problems?” Dad asks.

  “Other than freaking out?”

  “Uh, yes.”

  “No. I was fine. And now that I know what I can do, I have more control.”

  “Any Q-net dreams the last couple of nights?” Radcliff asks.

  “No.” I recall the two others. “I think it happens when I’m worried about something. The one with Jarren seemed to be triggered by my subconscious. I think I picked up on Jarren’s fingerprints in the satellite feeds. The other was just after we discovered the Q-net made changes to our security measures to protect me.”

  There’s a pause. One of the chairs creaks.

  “Could you have made those changes to the security cameras while sleeping?” Radcliff asks.

  Ah, he still wants to blame me for that. “No, that was before.”

  “Before what?” Mom asks.

  “Before I dozed off while entangled.”

  Another pause and then another round of questions. No, I don’t hear voices, I don’t see things that aren’t there, unless you count the person in the black rectangle (which I don’t), I don’t have suicidal thoughts or thoughts that are not my own, and I don’t have access to the star roads. At least I don’t think I do, I haven’t tried. Basically I don’t have any symptoms that I’m going crazy or turning catatonic. Unless all this is just a dream or delusions and I never woke from my concussion. Might as well say it—this could be my imagination while I’m lying unresponsive in the infirmary drooling on my pillow. You have to admit I do have an overactive imagination.

  “What caused this?” Mom asks.

  I shrug. “The concussion. Touching the heart. Dying. Falling asleep while worming. All of the above. None of the above. Take your pick.”

  “No need to be snarky,” Mom says.

  The sad thing is, I wasn’t being snarky. Just honest.

  “What do you suggest we do?” Radcliff asks me.

  I stare at him. Did he really just ask me? Oh boy. Not one to waste this opportunity, I say, “Nothing. I keep doing what I do and I promise to let you know right away if I’m having any problems.”

  “Problems as in…?”

  “Headaches, delusions, voices, more dreams.” No one says a word. “Look, I’ve had multiple brain scans and they’ve all shown no damage. Let’s just view this as a…quirk of my brain’s wiring due to various unavoidable events.” I tap my forehead. “And I promise to use my powers only for good.” That earns me a smile from Morgan. I’m getting closer.

  My parents glance at Radcliff and Morgan, who meet their gazes. And I suddenly feel like an intruder.

  “Ara, please return to our unit,” Radcliff says. “I’ll see you later.”

  Ah, they wish to discuss me without me. That’s fine. Doubting that I’ll see my parents at dinner, I give them a quick goodbye and bolt. I pause outside Niall’s door. He’s probably on duty or sleeping. Besides, we’re supposed to be on our best behavior. Ugh. I do as ordered.

  A knock wakes me up from a nap. Radcliff didn’t say what I should do after I returned to our unit. Loophole! “Come in.”

  The door opens and Niall pokes his head in. “Where is everyone?”

  “Discussing my fate in the conference room.” I glance at the time—it’s been two hours. That doesn’t bode well for my future.

  “So you fessed up. How did it go?”

  “I’m not confined to a padded room for my protection. Yet.” I stretch.

  “That’s good. And for the record, I think you would look adorable in a confinement jumpsuit.”

  “Watch it, Toad.” I throw my pillow at him.

  He catches it and tosses it back. I duck.

  “Your reflexes are getting better, Mouse.”

  I grunt—very unladylike.

  He laughs. “Come on, I’m starving.”

  We dig through the refrigerator. Radcliff has plenty of leftovers. Enough so I wonder if he cooked the extra food while we were gone out of habit. As we eat, I fill Niall in on the meeting with the astrophysicists and my theories.

  “What about a wormhole to the pit on Planet Dongguan?” Niall asks.

  “I thought the same thing. It could be like a shortcut through the Q-net.”

  “No, like a real wormhole. The ones that form in space and are supposed to connect two distant points without crinkling space.”

  It could be possible. “There’s the power issue. What’s generating the wormhole?” But then again, what’s powering a Crinkler engine?

  Radcliff arrives, heats up a meal, and joins us at the table. I stop shoveling food into my mouth as my stomach sours. What did they decide? Should I pack?

  “Your father’s been busy,” Radcliff says into the silence. “He’s already recruited Officers Dorey and Keir.”

  Niall glances at me. “Recruited for what?”

  I explain about the plan to open another pit and my conditions.

  “I’m gues
sing he’ll ask you next,” Radcliff says to Niall. “And that you’ll say yes.” His tone implies that agreeing would be idiotic.

  Used to his father’s ill humor, Niall ignores him. “Of course I’ll go.”

  A grunt is Radcliff’s only response. I hide my smile.

  “As for you…” Radcliff stabs his fork in my direction. A poor meatball is impaled on the tines.

  I suck in a breath.

  “You’re to proceed…” He bites off half the meatball and chews.

  My imagination has no trouble filling in the blanks. Proceed to the infirmary. Proceed to detention. Proceed to a small dark room for the rest of my life.

  “…as normal. But if you have any problems or even a niggling sense that something’s not right, you are to report it to me or your parents A-sap. Understand?”

  Whew. “Yes, sir.”

  Another grunt. But I’m relieved they took my advice and I can be…er…normal. Well as normal as I’m going to get after everything that’s happened. And, thinking about it, I’m okay with that.

  The astrophysicists collect twenty days’ worth of data and then analyze it. They request another meeting to report on their findings. So eleven days after the last one, the seven of us are once again sitting around the table in the conference room at thirteen hundred. Seems my morning training sessions are not to be disturbed, but my afternoon worming sessions with Beau aren’t as important—although we’re having fun setting off Jarren’s alarms. At least the tension between my parents and Radcliff has diminished. They’re coming to dinners again.

  Both women look tired and I wonder if they’ve been getting enough sleep, or if the results are keeping them up at night. Scary thought.

  “We analyzed the data,” Yenay says. “The HoLFs are emitting radio waves.”

  Radio waves? That seems so…ordinary.

  “We don’t know if they are using these waves to communicate or if it’s a natural byproduct,” Bertie says.

  “Byproduct?” Morgan asks.

  “For example, humans emit thermal energy, or rather body heat. You can see it if you view a person using infrared goggles. Our bodies also generate an electrical signal. So perhaps the HoLFs produce radio waves.”

  “How does this help us?” Radcliff asks.

  “We could build a weapon that counters the radio waves. Perhaps it will kill them or cause enough harm that they’ll leave.” Bertie raises her hands in an I-don’t-know gesture. “If they’re using the waves for communication, then it would stop their ability to transmit. That also might scare them away or make them unable to attack in force.”

  “What counters radio waves?” Radcliff asks.

  “More radio waves. A weapon could emit the same wavelength and frequency as the HoLFs’, but out of phase so the two waves will cancel each other out. It’s called destructive interference.”

  Her comments reminded me of my physics classes. “If you don’t get it just right, the two waves could converge and amplify the signal.”

  “There’s always going to be risks, however, if we design the emitter right, it will sample the frequency’s phase from the HoLFs and then produce a countersignal,” Bertie says.

  “How long would it take to sample them?” Morgan asks.

  “A fraction of a second.”

  “Wait, back up,” Mom says. “It’s been too long since my university days. Can you explain the difference between wavelength and frequency?”

  Bertie explains. “Wavelength is how long the wave is—think of it as a piece of string curved up and down like a snake. The wave is measured from the middle of one crest to the next crest. For the HoLFs, the wavelength is zero point nine two meters. Radio and infrared waves are longer than X-rays and Gamma rays. Frequency is how fast the wave is moving—like a wave in an ocean racing to shore.”

  “If we create a signal that has the same frequency and wavelength, but the crests of our waves are at the same time as the troughs of the HoLFs’ waves, they will both disappear,” Yenay adds.

  “Okay, that makes sense. How long will it take to build the emitter?” my mom asks Yenay.

  “Building it should only take a few days. That’s not the problem. The difficulty will be designing it with the supplies we have on hand. It’s been a long time since humans used radio waves. We’re also going to need an engineer to help.”

  “Do we have an engineer on base?” Mom asks Dad.

  “I’ll have to look at the personnel list.” Dad accesses his portable. “Maybe Jim McGinnis has an engineering background. He’s in charge of the base’s maintenance crew.”

  While my dad checks, I’m struck by Yenay’s comment about humans using radio waves. “Could we also build a radio receiver? If the HoLFs are using radio waves to communicate, we could hear what they say.”

  “The likelihood of the aliens speaking English is infinitesimal,” Yenay snaps.

  Is it me or is she just all gloom and doom? “Do we have any linguists on base? They could try to translate it. Even if we don’t, we should record it so when we reestablish contact with DES, we can send it to their language experts.”

  “That’s actually a good idea,” Bertie says, sounding surprised.

  Sheesh. Tough room.

  My dad glances up from the portable. “Jim has a mechanical engineering degree. Will that work?”

  “Yes, that’s perfect,” Yenay says without a snap. It must be me.

  Finally something going right for a change. Don’t worry I won’t relax, there’s still plenty of things that can go horribly amiss. Curious about the HoLFs’ radio wave, I ask Yenay what the frequency is.

  The scientist scrunches up her nose as if in pain. Bertie swallows. Her face pales—quite the feat considering she’s already rather pale. What did I do now? I didn’t think it was a hard question.

  “It’s three hundred and thirty megahertz,” Yenay finally says.

  Three thirty. Why does that sound familiar?

  “Is that significant?” Radcliff asks.

  Trust the man’s internal something’s-wrong-detector to pick up on their discomfort.

  “It’s the same frequency of Sagittarius A-star. That’s the name of the supermassive black hole at the Milky Way’s galactic center.”

  Fourteen

  2522:228

  Wait, what? We all stare at Dr. Zhang. Did she just say that the shadow-blobs are emitting the same radio waves as the black hole at the center of our Galaxy? That would be cool except…

  “I thought nothing escapes a black hole,” I say.

  “Once past the black hole’s event horizon, nothing does. Not even light,” Yenay says. “But the signal is from the region around the black hole.”

  “Are you implying that the HoLFs might be from the galactic center?” Mom asks.

  “No, that would be impossible.”

  “Why not?” I ask before my internal filter can stop me from questioning an astrophysicist with a doctorate. “The HoLFs had to get here from somewhere? And if there’s a portal in the pits, then why can’t they use them, too?” And then the logic catches up. “Oh, right. Those pits were destroyed. The shadow-blobs aren’t using the Warrior portals, but something else.” Now everyone is looking at me. “What?”

  “We haven’t confirmed the existence of your portals, Ara.” Yenay’s words are clipped.

  “Is having the same radio frequency significant?” Radcliff asks again.

  “It’s just a strange coincidence.”

  Radcliff and I exchange a glance. One of the things I learned by reading the security handbook is that true coincidences are rare.

  “What’s inside a black hole?” Mom asks. Apparently it’s been too long since her last astronomy class.

  “Gravity,” Yenay says. “Matter is crushed down to a mass of zero, and gravity is all there is.”

  Definitely not going to be vacationing there. And no chance shadow-blobs could live there either.

  “There is a theory that a black hole exits into another spacet
ime, acting like a wormhole,” she adds.

  I perk up at the mention of wormholes—perhaps Niall’s theory has merit and the shadow-blobs are traveling through black holes.

  “Of course nothing but gravity can survive the journey,” Bertie says.

  Boo. But I wonder… “Is there the same frequency radio waves coming from all the black holes in the universe?”

  “No. They’re all different. And only the radio-loud active galaxies produce radio wave emissions. They range in frequency from 10 megahertz to 100 gigahertz.”

  So no way our black hole is connected to another black hole in a different galaxy, creating a shortcut between them. The astrophysicists leave to consult with the engineer.

  “We really could use DES’s help with all this,” Dad says. “Any progress on getting through the blockade?”

  I glance at Radcliff. Beau and I’ve been testing Jarren’s defenses while waiting for orders to try and use Jarren’s exit.

  “I’ve been reluctant to make an attempt to reach DES until we learned more about the HoLFs,” Radcliff says. “But it appears it’s going to be a while before the astrophysicists are ready.” He looks at me. “Can you find that breach again?”

  I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  “All right. Tomorrow afternoon, we’ll implement the distraction protocol.”

  “We, sir?”

  “Officer Morgan and I will provide the distraction while you and Dorey slip through the crack.”

  Fun. I just hope Jarren’s not waiting on the other side.

  The four of us gather in Radcliff’s office. The countdown has started for Operation Distraction! Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Plus nervous energy courses through me like electricity. If I screw this up, Jarren will know I’m alive and probably start planning to correct his oversight right away. No pressure there. Right?

  “How much time do you need to worm to the breach?” Radcliff asks me.

  I consider. On my own, it’d take me about an hour. With Beau trailing… “Ninety minutes.”

  “All right. Morgan and I will wait thirty minutes then go in and test grids one-forty-three and one-forty-four,” Radcliff says.

 

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