The Expanding Universe

by Craig Martelle

  He nodded, more to himself than anything. “This changes everything.”

  She glanced at the closed door, and then back to him. “What? What changes everything?”

  He raised a bloody hand and then moved close to her to gather a towel off the table. He tore the towel and started to wrap his hands. “I, well, you, honestly. You’re evolved, Captain. I didn’t think there was anyone like us outside the Union.”

  She frowned. “There’s no way I’m anything like you.” The horror stories of Union mind-rippers were known throughout the Resistance and beyond, creatures to be feared and destroyed on sight, if not simply run away from.

  He shook his head. “No, no, the stories are, of course, gross embellishments. The truth is much simpler, but no less horrifying to some who aren’t yet ready for the truth.”

  She shook her head. “I still don’t understand.”

  He gave her a sad smile. “Headaches, irritability at strange times, voices in your head, premonitions of things that may or may not come to pass. All things you’ve experienced, yes?”

  She crossed her arms across her chest, feeling like he had ferreted out one of her deep secrets. She took a half-step toward the closed door. “How did you…?”

  He shrugged and continued trying to dress his cut-up hands. “Common side effects when one starts to change, to evolve. Humanity has been gradually evolving over our many millennia in space. Some faster than others. You’re continuing along the path now, just as others are doing, and have done.”

  She stared at him. “Are you telling me I’m somehow a…a mind-ripper?”

  He shook his head. “You can be anything you want to be and you can do anything you want with the gifts evolving within you. The abilities themselves are neither positive nor negative—they simply are. It’s up to the individual to use them for good, or ill.”

  She nodded in understanding, though she still didn’t like what he was saying. “It was you, wasn’t it? Pushing in on my mind all this time?”

  He sighed at his awful efforts at wrapping his hands and nodded at her. “Yes. My ship was on patrol near the colony and when I was meditating after a duty shift, I picked up an aberration in…well, it’s a long story. Suffice to say that some evolved individuals such as ourselves can sense other evolved individuals, even at great distances.”

  She puzzled it out. “Sort of like ships detecting each other via sensor nets?”

  He shrugged. “Rather inelegant, but something like that, yes.”

  She nodded, and then after a long moment, gestured toward his blood-stained hands. “Do you need some help?”

  He glanced down and then focused on her with a contrite expression that somehow made him appear even more handsome. “I’d be grateful.”

  She snorted. “I should blast a hole in you and leave you here to bleed out. But…I don’t think I can do that.” She gestured toward one of the seats and settled in next to him and started to properly wrap his cut hands. “You’ll need to see your ship’s doctor to get these properly treated.”

  He nodded. “I will, when I get back.”

  She focused on him as she worked. “So what, exactly, did you want to see me about?”

  He sighed. “I had intended to confirm my suspicions, but I have to admit that my vision for how the meeting would unfold came out differently than what actually happened.”

  She snorted and tied off the first bandage, more tightly than necessary. She took just a little satisfaction from his wince. “I can imagine. So you wanted to talk to me to see if I was evolved?”

  He nodded. “That, mostly, yes.”

  She stared at him. “And now that you know?”

  He sighed. “Now…now I don’t know what to do.” He met her eyes and in a clear, calm voice, said, “I know you’re part of the Resistance and I know you’re on a secret mission to Lovaro VI. However, I don’t know the circumstances of your mission.”

  Before she could respond, he quickly added, “I also know you were sent on this mission by Commodore Elbradon. It’s probably no surprise to you that the Union has an effective intelligence arm, perhaps as effective as your own.”

  “That can be debated, but go on.” She was appalled at how much he knew, but intrigued all the same.

  He sighed. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of more bad news, but you almost certainly have a Union spy aboard your ship.”

  She nodded. “I was starting to suspect that given the appearance of the scatterbomb in our flight path.”

  “Yes, sorry about that. We planted that particular bomb, knowing a ship was moving toward Lovaro VI.”

  She settled into the chair next to him and studied his face. “Baris, right?”

  He raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Yes.”

  He had a face and a voice that she could easily get used to. “Are you using your powers to make you more attractive to me?”

  He frowned. “I…what?” He blinked a couple times, then stammered, “I…I would never…”

  She smirked and patted his closest forearm. “Never mind.” She changed tack. “Baris, why are you telling me all this? You must be breaking at least a dozen Union regs, here.”

  He glanced at the closed door behind her. “Not everything you know or hear about in the journals is accurate, Captain.” He lowered his voice down to a whisper. “The Council is getting hammered on all sides to bring this war to a conclusion. Many believe that a military victory is impossible, and that negotiation may be the only solution.”

  Her eyes widened. This was news no one had heard, so far as she knew.

  Baris added, “The politicians, the Merchant Guild, even the Fellowship of Tolerance all believe that the Resistance should be let go and be free to form their own government and nation. Naturally there’s resistance, but that’s the overall tone of late.”

  She found her voice. “How long until the Council has to make a decision?”

  He shook his head. “Unknown. Months, perhaps another year or more. Nothing happens quickly in the Union.”

  Vance snorted. “Sounds like the Resistance has something in common.”

  He nodded. “Just so. And the evolved. We appear to have that in common too.”

  She sighed. “I’m still not sure I understand.” And gods, did she want to. She was so tired of it all.

  He stood up. “We best make ourselves presentable.” He reached out and touched her arm. “But, know this: there is a movement within Union circles—the military, the science community, elsewhere—of evolved individuals seeking to end this war from within.”

  She stared hard at him. “Again, Baris…why are you telling me this? You clearly know I’m a spy. You know I’ll go straight to the Commodore with this.”

  He nodded and spread open his hands to either side. If she ever wanted to take a free shot at him, now was the time. He said, simply, “I need you to trust me, Captain. Someone on one side or the other has to make that first leap of faith.”

  He met her eyes, and she saw depths in his blue eyes that she never thought to see—she saw truth there, and trust, and perhaps the hint of something more.

  And the pressure on her mind was gone, no pain, no spear, nothing. He was out of her mind. She was free to go. She stared into his eyes, and knew the words she had to say. “I trust you, Baris Macault. But I have to get back to my ship.”

  He let his bandaged hands drop to his sides, and he nodded, sadness clouding over his eyes and making his handsome features droop. “I understand. But, please…remember what I said.”

  She nodded, and then moved toward the door. As she reached out to open it, he added, “I’ll try to give you as much time as possible before the Endeavor hunts you down.”

  She paused to stare at him, seeking the threat in his words, but sensing nothing but truth, and trust.

  Chapter 6

  Vance left the room and Baris behind, and moved out of the tavern as quick as her feet could manage in the clunky magboots. Kraft and the Calpers fell into line with her.

/>   Kraft said, “You all right, Skip? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  She headed straight for their gig. “You don’t know the half of it, Chief. There’s a Union frigate out there, just inside the system’s outlying asteroid field.”

  Kraft cursed. “That’s why I didn’t pick it up. Too much background noise from the asteroid field.”

  She piled into the gig, followed by Kraft and the two Calpers. “Get the gig up and back to the Aethenne.”

  As Kraft busied himself with pre-flight, she toggled on the comm. “Aethenne, this is Hambrill.”

  Gint’s voice filtered in over the comm. “Gint here, Skip.”

  She sighed into the mic. “Status?”

  “Most of the repairs are complete, though we were only able to salvage one of the two damaged cryo tanks. Chief Tolle thinks we’ll be fine with three, but that we’ll have to put in for more extensive repairs once we reach Lovaro VI. We took the opportunity to top off all three cryo tanks, and we added about six metric tons of new plating and spare parts.” He paused, then added, “And a couple crates of Kamarian berries and a bushel of Ud’ini sprouts.” He sounded uncertain about the last two.

  As Kraft fired up the engines and launched the gig into the sky, she said, “All sounds good. Set the ship at condition one as soon as possible and close down any last repairs. There’s a Union frigate patrolling the system’s outlying asteroid belt. If we’re very fast and very lucky, we can get past them and spiral into FTL before they get a chance to blow us to dust.”

  There was a long silence on the line, though she thought she heard someone curse—might have been Gint or Ndomo. Gint then cleared his throat and said, “We’ll get the sublights warmed up along with the FTL drives. How soon will you be back?”

  Vance leaned over and looked at Kraft’s panels. “ETA seven minutes. We’ll be coming in hot. Have the flight deck cleared and a crash team on standby.”

  She suspected Gint could hear the urgency in her voice. She hadn’t made him first lieutenant for being ignorant.

  “Aye, Skip. We’ll be ready for you.”

  She nodded as the view outside changed from dark blue to twinkling black. “Very well. See you soon. Hambrill out.” She toggled off the comm and then glanced at Kraft, knowing the two Calpers behind her were soaking up every word and gesture.

  “The Union lieutenant had a lot to say and not a lot of time to say it in. Suffice to say that if he is to be believed, we have some very interesting times ahead of us.”

  Kraft shot a glance at her. “More interesting than having a scatterbomb shoved in our face?”

  She slumped back into her seat and nodded. “Hell of a lot more interesting.” She sighed. “I’ll pull a briefing together for the crew at some point.”

  She didn’t have anything more to add, not just yet, and she was grateful all over again for Kraft’s tact and tendency to silent competence.

  Kraft shifted the gig to a higher orbit and added some speed, and in short order the long, graceful lines of the Aethenne moved into view. She was a little battered, a little scarred, but looked hale enough. Vance chuckled to herself—not unlike her captain. Tired, bruised up, full of secrets, but ready to fight and survive.

  Kraft stuck the bay entry and landing like a sports pilot, and she made a mental note as she clambered out of the craft to note him for a commendation or a little extra shore leave. She rushed to the command deck, feeling a sudden solace wash over her as she felt herself surrounded by the comfortable confines.

  She glanced at Gint. “Sublights ready?”

  He nodded and tapped controls on the command pedestal before vacating the space for her. “We’re on our way. The ship is yours, Skipper.”

  She took her central space on the command deck, nearly weeping for joy at being back on board and at the helm of her ship.

  Kraft soon joined them on the deck and replaced his junior officer at the tactical station. “Gig’s squared away and the flight deck is secure.”

  Vance shot him a smile. “Hell of a fine piece of flying, Chief. Thank you.”

  She focused on the flight path Gint and Ndomo had plotted toward the asteroid field, making slight adjustments on the fly to suit it better to her tastes. Even so, they had made the ninety percent solution and that was the mark of a good crew in tune with their captain.

  As she focused on the flying, she asked, “FTL status?”

  Ndomo glanced at her console. “ETA four minutes to full readiness.”

  And a glance showed Vance that it’d take them just over three to reach the outer edge of the asteroid field. Pretty close, and that was good enough.

  Kraft called out, “Union frigate ahead, bearing 330 by 45. Doesn’t look like she’s spotted us yet. She’s focused on the asteroid field.”

  Gods-damned luck again, though she also knew that they had a little help. If Macault had been true to his word, they probably hadn’t gotten back to their ship yet, which might just be enough to slow them down.

  But, for good measure, she goosed a little more power into the sublights. “Chief, power down the weapon systems. Transfer all available power to sublights and to the FTL heaters as needed. We’re not going to fight our way out of this one. We’re just gonna run and jump.”

  Kraft worked his console. “Aye, Skip. Weapons off-line, power reallocated.”

  The Aethenne fairly leaped under her hands, like a thoroughbred given free rein to just run. “Entering the outskirts of the field now. Someone monitor the feed so that I don’t actually hit something.” She had her eyes and hands full flying the ship through the thinnest part of the field, still a significant threat.

  She sensed Gint’s nervous yet strong confidence next to her. “We’ve got your back, Skip. You’re looking good, green, green, green.”

  She nodded and focused on her flying, using a mix of the telemetry in front of her, her hands on the tiller, and Gint’s occasional remark, to get them deeper into the field.

  After a seemingly-endless stretch of time, Kraft called out. “We’re through the worst of it, Skip. Even if she picked us up, the Endeavor isn’t fast enough to get around the interference from the asteroid field before we can spiral out.”

  She shot him a tight smile then glanced at Gint. “Then let’s get the hell out of here. Lock in the course and spiral us out.”

  She focused on the telemetry displayed on the screens in front of her. She could hardly believe it. Of all the Union frigates she could have faced, she had stumbled upon the one, possibly the only one, in all the fleet, that had an officer aboard with a conscience. And not only that, but a mind-ri…an evolved…officer at that.

  Wonders truly never ceased.

  Chapter 7

  After losing the Union frigate on the other side of the system’s asteroid field, they spiraled the Aethenne into FTL. Vance didn’t expect to encounter another Union scatterbomb, but would deal with that if it happened again.

  With repairs to the ship completed and the crew’s few wounds addressed, there was little more to do than conduct drills and encourage everyone to get some rest. It’d take her some time to figure out how best to flush out the spy within her ranks, if there was one to be found at all.

  She took the opportunity to host an informal dinner in the officer’s mess, and had the ship’s cook, a lanky Deshman named Yemm, work up the last of the good stores of food. They’d resupply once at Lovaro VI.

  Yemm managed a good spread given the limited options placed before him. Vance appreciated the mix of flavors and spices he’d used, though she’d decided to carefully not mention the fact that he probably used the more pungent spices to cover up the fact that some of the vegetables and cuts of meat were a little past their prime.

  As she sat down with her officers to eat, Vance said, “Compliments to you, Mister Yemm. The people of Desh colony must mourn the loss of a cook such as yourself.”

  Yemm grinned at her. In a lilting tone, he said, “My offerin’s are meager compared to my brothers.
I’m little more than a slopper. I do much better work on the sensor nets.”

  While Yemm was the ship’s cook, his primary duties were as part of Ndomo’s technical team. Vance nodded. “Well, slopper or not, I appreciate your efforts. Make sure you help yourself to some of the food, and please share what you can with the rest of the crew, too.”

  Yemm nodded and then busied himself with moving dishes and plates around.

  Gint glanced at her from across the table. “Any insights from your time planetside, Skip?”

  Vance schooled her features into her best poker face, and forced her hands to keep cutting food and shoveling it into her mouth. She focused her thoughts and visualized that Union lieutenant, Baris Macault, calling to mind the thin red scar on his left cheek and his bright and lively pale blue eyes. She pushed the thoughts out, hoping Baris would pick them up somehow.

  “It’s a big war and an even bigger galaxy. We might never meet again.” Her heart surprised her by nearly skipping a beat. Come on, Vance. This was no time for fawning. Think of the mission, the war.

  Another forkful of food, then she felt his presence touch her mind again. “Perhaps not so large as all that. I cannot see you, but I can sense you, somewhat. And you can sense me. Amazing. We’ll meet again. I’m sure of it.”

  She bit her lower lip, and raised her hand and coughed into it to cover her surprise. His words—his thoughts—had carried no malice, no anger. Just confidence, and even…wistfulness? Not at all what she had expected from a Union officer. She had no experience with this sort of thing, and was working it much as she worked everything else—by trial and error.

  “Maybe under better circumstances?” She formed the thought and pushed it out into the endless black of space all around her.

  “Indeed. I’ll bring a proper vintage next time. No more backwater sludge. And in a polymer bottle so that it doesn’t shatter when you try to brain me with it. I rather like my hands intact.”

  She grinned but didn’t have anything to add. From across the table, she caught Gint’s glance, and nodded to him. “Just the usual, Gint. Challenging days behind; more ahead.”