Immortal Suicide: A Fight Across Time And Space

by Simon Bown

  “Ship secure sir, we are at jump status one.” Stratton said. He sat on his jump couch and swung his legs over into the jump position.

  Regis lay back and watched the numbers counting down on his ceiling display directly over his couch. He accessed the intercom. “Jump in ten seconds.” He pulled his jump belt over and connected it to the couch.

  Stratton looked at Regis. “This can’t be happening, there must be some mistake.” He said fearfully.

  “We’ll soon find out. I’ll use the nuclear warheads if I have to.” Regis replied.

  Stratton locked his belt in place. “Nuclear warheads over our own planet?”

  Regis closed his eyes he could offer no reply.

  Ahead of the ship space knotted as the gravity generator’s energy output reached that of a small planet. Twisting the fabric of space required grace and delicacy as well as brute force. The electromagnetic lens focussed the gravity beam into a tiny quantum blade. An incision in the local foundation of the cosmos opened, secondary beams held the cut open and stabilised the fissure. Within seconds it had widened to a rift large enough for the ship to pass through. The UTS Conquest crossed the event horizon disappearing yard by yard into the basis of the universe. On board the Conquest indications of the jump were not physical but still discernible by the crew. Something unexplained by science gave the personnel a perception of movement. Scientists were still unable to confirm exactly through where a ship travels during a jump.

  Several hundred miles above the North Pole, within firing range of an alien ship, space ripped open and revealed the UTS Conquest. The shocking reality was instantly apparent as the external sensors relayed their first images to the crew.

  Regis’ mind stopped after his display lit up above him, for the first time in his career his ability for decision-making left him.

  The opaque red energy halo completely concealed the planet. Immense flashes of light erupted across the entire globe as the plasma cannons ineffective barrage continued.

  Regis mumbled his thoughts. “What are they doing to us?”

  Stratton released his belt and twisted to look at the captain. “You orders sir?” He asked.

  Regis unlocked his belt and joined the weapons officer at his station. “Load tubes two and six. Set torpedoes to maximum yield.”

  Startled crewmembers in the torpedo bay watched as automatic equipment loaded the weapons into their launch tubes.

  The tactical officer set up the attack parameters and awaited the order to initiate the assault.

  An almost imperceptible increase in the alien ship’s luminosity went unnoticed by the Conquest’s threat analysis software. Stratton dug his fingers into the back of the tactical officers’ chair as the torpedoes locked into their launch tubes. Green icons lit up as the weapons became available.

  A small ball of plasma formed above the alien ship similar in colour and form to the planetary halo. The doors covering the launch tubes opened as the system prepared to commence the attack.

  Regis paused for a second and closed his eyes. His mind raced through all the arguments why he should not unleash such firepower but came to the conclusion this was the only way to save his planet.

  Stratton called urgently to him “Some form of energy sphere has formed over the alien ship. We must act now.”

  Regis opened his eyes and barked out the order. “Fire tubes two and six.”

  The entire ship shook as the two torpedoes leapt from their launch cradles into the darkness. Each weapon carried a devastating explosive force. Within a tenth of a second the torpedoes had accelerated to forty-two gravities and searched the designated attack corridor for enemy defensive measures.

  The sphere of luminous energy rapidly left the alien ship on a direct intercept course.

  Automatic alarms sounded throughout the ship as the alien countermeasure gathered enormous speed and closed on the torpedoes.

  Both torpedoes’ defensive software analysed the incoming threat. Switching from seek and destroy to stealth mode the torpedoes ejected defensive drones and initiated evasive manoeuvres to evade the aliens defensive counter strike.

  The sphere moved to pursue the torpedo closest to the ship despite the drone’s best efforts to confuse. The drone’s aggressive software ordered a self-detonation. A wall of blinding light between the sphere and the torpedo concealed the weapon’s change of direction but still the sphere maintained a direct intercept course.

  Regis shouted across the bridge. “Helm, initiate evasive movements, weapons, load tubes four and twelve.”

  The energy sphere connected with the first torpedo and absorbed it into itself with no hint of a detonation.

  Stratton was puzzled. “The defensive system should have set off the warhead as a last measure.”

  “It may have been infiltrated by some form of subversive software.” Regis replied.

  The sphere changed course and lined up on the remaining torpedo.

  The weapon struggled to outwit the energy sphere through a complex series of movements. The severe turns induced massive stress on the projectile but still the sphere gained. Hundreds of deadly counter measures erupted from the torpedo and formed a cloud of explosive menace. All the tiny weapons connected with their target, the storm of armaments detonated across the surface of the sphere blossoming in a storm of vicious munitions.

  Regis ordered the helm to cease the extreme movements and bring the ship to a full stop. The bridge crew shouted and laughed.

  Stratton patted Regis on the back. “That must have got it.” He said.

  Regis was not so convinced of victory and studied the display as the discernment software analysed the blast wave.

  As the maelstrom subsided the discrimination systems exposed the outcome of the explosive encounter. Evasion routines in the torpedo’s software had failed to outwit the closing sphere and it was collected into the belly of the alien weapon to join its futile partner. The nuclear warheads detonated.

  Regis’s display blanked out as the protection software cut off the nova bright explosion. He waited agonising seconds for it to reactivate. Finally, he caught sight of the sphere just yards from the ship. He shouted a desperate order to the weapons officer. “Fire tubes four and twelve.”

  “The system’s not responding sir.” The weapons officer replied.

  As the sphere touched the hull the entire power grid went into spasm. Systems choked on the intermittent surges in power, the lights flickered forcing a strobed perception of the interior. Emergency klaxons screamed out a deafening monotone warning. Crew members struggled to reassert control but to no effect.

  Regis ordered the crew to arm themselves and collected his plasma pistol from the locker under his couch.

  The sphere continued to expand and envelope the ship, the energy field taking on the ship’s outline as it progressed across the vessel.

  The main power grid shut down, emergency systems cut in contributing dull crimson lighting as the only illumination. Silence reigned over the ship, crewmen gazed open mouthed at the ceiling, pistols in hand, as if expecting a sudden attack through the hull. Finally, the ship was adrift encased in a foul red sheath. The emergency lighting failed as the artificial gravity gave up its grip. Regis found himself weightless and in darkness. The only sound was the distant thrumming of the life support system. A feeling of utter hopelessness gripped him. He let go of his pistol and put his hands to his face.

  Barton Hartshorn was angry and desperate. He looked around the room for any chance, any slight possibility of redemption. “Admiral Houghton, how many more message buoys were sent before the orbital communications platform was put out of action?”

  “Only two. If the target ships had received them they should have been here by now. I’m afraid I don’t hold out much hope.” The Admiral replied.

  A profound darkness shrouded Barton’s frame of mind, the talented telepaths in the room sensed his decline as a cold wave washing over them. “Mr Lacy, what is our current status?” He asked.


  “The halo is continuing to descend toward the surface.” Holme Lacy replied. “Any military aircraft that have passed through the halo are flying normally but all the weapons are off line. Planetary defences are all but exhausted. Most of the plasma cannons are burnt out or have lost power as their generators have collapsed under the pressure.”

  Barton felt all eyes upon him. He had lost his planet and failed as a leader. He closed his eyes and clamped his teeth together. An intense anger built in his mind, completely pure and free of any flaw.

  Without warning two alien beings teleported into the room. They manifested themselves as liquid metallic orbs, five feet in height and three feet at their widest point. Light seemed to slip off their surface denying any chance of seeing their true form.

  Barton sat heavily in his chair and stared at the creatures. He merely waited to see what they would do next. He was now a defeated man unable to offer any resistance.

  Armed security charged into the room and took up positions surrounding the intruders. The timid members of the crisis group collected at the other end of the room. Admiral Houghton moved forward and put his hand on Barton’s shoulder. Barton remained in his chair barely a few feet away from the aliens. He was already defeated and they could do no more harm to him short of taking his life.

  A distinct and familiar essence bathed the telepathic ether as the aliens commenced communication.

  “The halo is continuing its descent to the planet surface. From now on all military will be put permanently out of action.”

  The security personnel raised their rifles and attempted to fire on the aliens but found the weapons unresponsive. Two of the men charged the aliens and immediately fell unconscious a few feet from their targets.

  All the members of the shocked crisis group waited on Barton to speak, to say something, anything to the aliens. He stared at the floor entirely lost in his own furious thoughts.

  Admiral Houghton broke the silence. “If you leave us defenceless our enemies will attack. Millions of our people could die.”

  “You will be safe. Not one of your enemies is in a dissimilar position to yourselves. We now control every space faring world in this part of the galaxy.” The two aliens shifted slightly and an identical ripple crossed both of their bodies.

  “Who are you? Where are you from?” Admiral Houghton asked.

  “We are to be known to you as the Mezzyima, and we originate in a place you would not understand.”

  TIMING AND CO-ORDINATES

  ‘Captain she canna take no more.’ The words made no sense. They were distant, making just the slightest impression on her consciousness. ‘Captain she canna take no more.’ She was waking, surfacing from the deep dreamless sleep she needed so desperately after the night before. ‘Captain she canna take no more.’ The words became clearer and clearer as Lucy neared waking. She leant over and switched off her star-ship Enterprise alarm clock. It was a gift from a group of students who had nicknamed her Spock and seemed to find it amusing. She did not own a television and therefore did not understand why this may be funny.

  Lucy rented a room from a retired nurse, Mrs Mackenzie. She was a stocky, sixty something, Irish widower. Her thick accent kept Lucy continuously on her toes as she struggled to understand what Mrs Mackenzie was saying.

  Her room was in the attic of the large Victorian house in west London. Mrs Mackenzie had bought the house with her husband just after their marriage in the nineteen sixties. She had not replaced a single piece of furniture since she had moved in and the house was something of a time capsule.

  Her small room was filled with books, mostly scientific texts apart from his Jules Vern and HG Wells collections. The only other things she kept were a bed, a small table, one chair and the alarm clock. No television, no radio. There was an old vinyl record player in the corner. Occasionally she would listen to something from her small collection of albums of Mozart or Led Zeppelin.

  She sat up slowly and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The pain in her nose raced across her face and she paused, waiting for the soreness to diminish. The mug of hot chocolate on the table was half full from the previous night. She put on her dressing gown, collected the mug and went down stairs to get some breakfast.

  Mrs Mackenzie rushed to her as she entered the kitchen. “Oh dear Miss Harcourt what have you done, that looks like a nasty bruise you have there.” She studied her wound.

  “I fell over last night in the basement, it’s nothing really, just a little painful.” She replied.

  Mrs Mackenzie took a clean tea towel and ran it under the cold tap. She then gave it to Lucy and pushed her hand to her bruise. “You know that has swelled up quite badly, you keep that there and I’ll get some cream to rub on it.”

  “Thank you Mrs Mackenzie but you don’t have to go to all this fuss I’ll be OK.” Lucy watched her leave the kitchen, she put two slices of bread in the toaster and took the milk out of the fridge.

  Mrs Mackenzie entered the kitchen as Lucy was pouring out the milk for her hot chocolate. “Now then here you are Miss Harcourt.” She handed her a half used tube of white cream.

  “Thank you.” She said. The toast popped up as Lucy was pouring the milk into her mug. She stirred in the chocolate powder and sat at the table opposite Mrs Mackenzie. She listened to the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway as she casually moved the spoon in her mug. Mrs Mackenzie lifted the butter to offer her some but she declined and took a bite of the dry toast. She finished her food without a word passing between them and cleaned his plate. The pain in her nose had dulled to a constant background drone with only occasional stinging to relieve the monotony. This painful reminder of the night before brought a smile to her face. She had been back in time, it was not a dream. So much of what had happened was intriguing, not least the revelation of passing her head through the event horizon. She had witnessed far off worlds and distant times in the blink of an eye. Travel to the future was surely possible if what she experienced was an indication. Finding herself in war torn London had been both surprising and intimidating. The calculations must have been flawed to have travelled so far back in time. She would have to work out two sets of formulas, one for distance in time and one for distance in space.

  Lucy got dressed and made her way downstairs. After two aspirin and the hot chocolate she felt well enough to call Newton and take the day off.

  One worrying aspect of the previous evening was that the rift was open the entire time Lucy was exploring. Someone had stumbled across the rift and made an inspection of her makeshift lab. The interloper from wartime London would probably have been telling people about this amazing hole in space. Of course they would probably assume he was delusional. Something must be done to stop this happening again. Perhaps a timing device could be fitted to turn the rift on and off at a set interval. Lucy would know exactly where and when to be in order to travel back to the present. The reactor was very stable and there was enough material to run it for a long time. It seemed every time she solved one problem it threw up a whole new set of others.

  PLANET FALL

  Time’s entire expanse flashed through Teafu’s consciousness as the ship crossed the event horizon. His powerful telepathic ability made the experience all the more intense and it collapsed under the pressure. He lay slumped over his display panel, his core self lost in a labyrinthine chaos.

  Weedon experienced much less of a shock because of his lesser telepathic talents but close proximity to Teafu served to intensify his loss of stability. For a short time his perception was overwhelmed by a massive sensory onslaught. Years of deep meditation in his youth had helped strengthen his mind but even after such a tremendous shock he was in better shape than Teafu.

  Sutton passed through the chaos in deep sleep and merely suffered a myriad of shattered dreams.

  The rift disappeared behind them leaving the ship in absolute emptiness.

  Weedon’s head rested on his display panel, saliva and tears mixed to l
eave his face wet and warm. Opening his eyes took some effort. Turning slowly, he found Teafu behind him and immediately sensed the depth of his trauma. He got up and stood behind Teafu, held his head with both hands and quickly fell into a deep meditative state. Weedon found the nucleus of Teafu’s personality hiding in the depths of his mind and assisted it to the surface.

  Teafu opened his eyes and smiled. “We made it through then?” He asked.

  “Yes I think we did.” Weedon replied.

  “And the Mezzyima?”

  “No sign of them so far.” Weedon picked a tissue from his pocket and wiped his face.

  “Have you checked on Sutton?” Teafu asked. Weedon sat at the science display and brought up the medical information. “She is okay. No noticeable physical damage. I suppose we’ll have to wait until she is awake to be sure.” He switched the display to a view of the exterior of the ship. Motion in space appeared to have stopped completely, an all pervading darkness held them isolated and alone. Weedon sat upright, light dizziness annoying him.

  Teafu spoke nervously. “I can sense just two people. You and Sutton. I have never in my life been this solitary.”

  Weedon looked at Teafu and replied quietly. “But if you cannot sense anyone we must be outside normal space.”

  Teafu was about to reply when the ship shook. They looked at each other and the ship shook again, this time longer and more violently. Weedon got into the pilot seat and pulled his crash web over himself. Teafu jumped into the navigator’s seat and did the same. Light flashed through the window lighting the bridge in severe momentary brilliance. The ship shook continuously, structural stress icons lit up across the engineering display as the sounds of the tormented vessel rang around the ship.

  Teafu examined his display and shouted above the noise. “I’m getting some weird spatial landscape to the port-side, it may be the rift opening again. I don’t think we can avoid it.”