by T. R. Harris
“They’re losing the well,” Riyad yelled. “Compensators are overloading.”
He had also fired up the generators in the D-4, turning the ship away from the void. They were far enough away that the effects were noticeable but not overpowering. That wasn’t the case for the Fracker.
“Sherri, get out of there!” Adam screamed into the comm.
“We’re trying! Losing the battle. The well just evap—”
The gravity signature of the Fracker disappeared; a moment later the tiny ship was drawn farther into the void.
It was as if all of space suddenly opened up, and what remained was a gigantic hole, half a light-year across where nothing was visible within or beyond the dark orb. The Juirean ship stretched out through the center of the hole, followed a moment later by the Fracker, leaving the void empty, yet surrounded by lines of alien craft, all on full gravity drive, yet going nowhere.
The effect only lasted ten seconds—maybe less. Then the Nuoreans shut down their drives.
Riyad did so as well, as the D-4 began to surge away from the void. He spun the ship around and began to close on the line of alien ships.
“They’re gone, Riyad,” Panur said. “Yet you should prepare for—”
There was a flash, not overpowering but covering a vast area all the way to the far side of the void. When the scene cleared, a fleet of Nuorean ships were moving in the void, hundreds of them and all on chemical drive, bunched too close together for gravity-wells. The ships began to spread out, creating space between the units. Once they were adequately spaced, the lead units engaged their wells and bolted away, in the direction of the Milky Way.
“We appear to have seen the entry point in action. Fascinating,” Panur said.
58
“We have to go after them.” Adam paced the bridge, squeezing his fists together in fits of anger and frustration. He let her go, and right into the jaws of the beast.
Riyad had stationed the D-4 about a light-year from the void—it was a void again with nothing moving within—with the ship on minimal energy output to mask their location. The situation had to be analyzed before a plan could be formulated. Fortunately, they had two of the greatest geniuses in existence aboard to help.
“Following them would be ill-advised,” J’nae said.
“Are they still alive?” Riyad asked. Adam had refused to bring voice to that particular fear.
“Surely,” the mutant answered. “This is a two-way transit tube. The Nuorean units appeared at this end, just as the Juireans and the others arrived at the other.”
“In the Andromeda galaxy, two-and-a-half million light-years away? An amazing feat,” Trimen said. He sounded in awe.
“Dammit, Trimen, we’re talking about Sherri!”
“Forgive me, Adam. I’m sorry.”
“Can’t they just pop back over again?” Riyad asked.
“Possibly, during the next opening,” J’nae said.
“So it’s not open all the time?”
“No. A gravity-well that large would require several days for the generators to recharge after a linking. As posited before, it must be elongated.” She looked to Panur for confirmation.
“That’s the only way they could control it.”
“What are you talking about?” Adam asked, frustrated by all the talk and no action.
Panur was sitting at a console. He began to type on the keypad and a graphic image appeared on the main viewscreen. He placed a large dot at the center, with moving lines pointing in, toward the ball. “A standard black hole draws in space from all directions equally, yet with our standard drives we create a stretching effect by moving the singularity. This allows for the focusing effect of the well to forward and reverse directions. The generator—which is connected to the starship—is drawn toward a central point before the well dissolves and another is created farther along this line. Yet that is only one of the effects of the gravity drive.”
“We all know how they work, Panur,” Adam said, again displaying his frustration.
“Bear with me, my friend. As I was saying, the added effect is the compression and then subsequent release of space as each singularity is created and then destroyed. This is where the true movement is generated, as space is first drawn in and then springs back to normal.
“The Nuoreans have found a way to elongate a series of stationery black holes, creating the same compression and release yet without movement of the generators. This has allowed them to focus the gravity beams. And because the effect is limited to only two directions, the generators and containment facilities can be of enormous size and in close proximity to the singularity, allowing for truly large effects to be created. It is quite amazing—and a major feat of engineering.”
“So they’ve built a gravity generator capable of drawing in space over a distance of two-point-five million light-years?” Riyad’s mouth hung slack.
“More-or-less, whatever was required for them to link galaxies.”
“And when they link up again, Sherri and Coop can come back through?” Adam asked.
“Theoretically, assuming they are allowed to remain at the focal point during the recharge period,” Panur answered.
“But that is highly unlikely,” J’nae said, spoiling the moment. “The Nuoreans are staging vast fleets for each jump at the other end. Two small ships arriving unannounced would be immediate sequestered, if not destroyed.”
“Now J’nae, what have I told you about the sensibilities of Humans?”
“That I must take them into consideration before stating facts.”
“Exactly.”
“Forgive me,” the mutant said to Adam.
But the damage was already done. Adam stopped his pacing and sat down. Sherri was…gone. Blood rushed to his face. “We have to destroy the generators,” he whispered, “and stop these bastards from sending any more ships through.”
“That would be nearly impossible,” Panur stated.
Adam looked up and glared at the little gray mutant. “Impossible…even for you? I didn’t think anything was impossible for Panur the Great!”
“Not for me, but for you. For me there would be a good chance of success, but then such an undertaking would be a one way trip.”
“What do you mean?”
Panur referred back to his drawing on the screen. He created two spiral galaxies, with the ball he’d drawn earlier in the center between the two objects. He made the ball stretch, creating the elongated singularity.
“To build a generator complex capable of linking the galaxies it would have be located midway between the two locations. If we round the distance to three million light-years that would place the generators one-and-a-half million light-years from Andromeda.” The mutant shook his head. “Even I could not construct a modified gravity drive capable of covering that distance in less than two years. By standard gravity drive, it would take approximately twenty-five years. So the only way the Nuoreans could have reached that far into space would have been through steps.” He placed another elongated black hole halfway between the main generator and Andromeda, then another halfway from that point to the galaxy. “They would go out and construct a generator. This would allow them to double that distance and build another. Then so forth until they reached the midpoint where the galaxies could be linked.”
Riyad pointed his finger at the graphic and drew an imaginary series of lines in the air, pointing at the screen. “So to reach the generator, we would have to go through the main one all the way to Andromeda, then hook up with the one that takes us halfway out to the big boy.”
“And if the main generator is destroyed, the only avenue for escape would be back through the second link...but to Andromeda, not our galaxy,” Trimen concluded. “With the destruction of the midpoint generator there would be no returning. Whoever made the journey would remain in Andromeda for the rest of their lives—if they survive the mission.”
“And the Nuoreans could rebuild the main generator, and any other
subsequent generators that are destroyed,” Panur pointed out. “But that would take many years.”
All the energy and willpower Adam once had was gone. He sat dejected in the seat, devoid of ideas. “So they can’t be stopped, not really,” he said. “Even if a team managed to get all the way to the main generator and set charges, the bombs would have to stay hidden for who knows how long, until the team could make it all the way back here before blowing up the generator. That would be the only way.”
“As I mentioned, it would be a one-way mission, certainly for a Human. For J’nae and me, we would survive, yet where we would end up is the question.”
“If we were even willing to take on such a mission,” J’nae added. Adam expected nothing less from the Sol-Kor mutant; selfish to the end.
“Of course…” Panur began. “There could be a way of plugging the link rather than breaking it completely.”
Adam’s chin was in his chest; now he raised it and stared at the mutant.
“How?”
“That I’m still working on.”
“Dammit, Panur!”
“Please Adam, even I take time to work through problems. Yet if the link can’t be broken in a workable fashion, then it must be blocked. Since there are two ends—and we know where this one lies—it’s only logical that it can be plugged…or contaminated.”
“Explain!”
“We saw how the compression link is two-way. Anything on this end is automatically sent to the other side when it’s opened. What if we make it so that the Nuoreans themselves will close down the link to prevent whatever we place at this end from making it through to theirs?”
“Bombs—nukes?” Riyad offered.
“That is a possibility, yet they could match us, clearing the space on this side with nuclear fire of their own. And they still control the timing of the links. There is some warning, but not much.”
“And this end is guarded by the Nuoreans,” Trimen pointed out.
Adam waved his hand. “I’m not worried about that. If we come up with a plan—and slow the arrival of reinforcements—we could place ten thousand allied ships around this area.”
“Panur, have you considered a realignment?” J’nae asked.
“What does that mean,” Riyad asked.
Panur looked around the room. “It means that with a slight shift of the main generator, the Nuoreans could change the entry point in the Milky Way.”
There was a long silence in the room, as it appeared they were once again at square one. Even the mutants weren’t offering a solution. Sure, it was possible they could mess up the works—for a while. But then the aliens would just move the entry point to another region and start flooding it with warships again.
“The main generator has to be knocked out,” Adam concluded. “I’ll go. If I have to sacrifice my life, it might as well be saving the galaxy.”
“I’ve heard you say that before,” Riyad said. “And if you go, I go.”
“Please my friends, don’t be in such a hurry to throw your lives away.” Panur had a thin smile on his smooth, gray face. “We can still block this entry point. That will give us time to develop a more long-term plan.”
“You have something in mind?” Adam asked.
“I always do.”
59
It happened in a flash, and when it faded they detected the G-8 about two million miles away, and the only contact for half a light-year in any direction. But what made Sherri’s blood freeze was the fact that there was almost a solid wall of contacts beyond the border of the void—and many more than had been there before.
“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” she whispered.
Copernicus was busy at the pilot’s station. “We have well-integrity back,” he announced. “I think I know what happened. I’m heading back through.”
He cranked the generators up to full and bolted into space away from the glowing mass of stars to the rear. He also promptly forgot about the Juireans. They would have to fend for themselves.
It was clear sailing ahead, without a single ship for as far as they could detect in front of them. There were also no accompanying flash or weird gravity effects. They were simply racing through space, empty space.
It didn’t take an alien mutant genius to figure out what had happened. Sherri placed a wide angle view to the rear of ship on the main screen. It’s hard to discern the shape of a galaxy this close to one, but the incredible blaze of stars on the screen was much more than that of the Milky Way.
It was the Andromeda Galaxy in their rear view mirror, and it wasn’t getting any smaller. They had made a two-and-a-half million light-year jump in a flash—literally—and were now bolting through the open channel between galaxies. At their current speed—and without the assistance of the gravity link created by the Nuoreans—the Milky Way was only about sixty years away.
Even as this reality hit, Copernicus didn’t cut the engines. There was still a massive fleet of enemy ships to the rear. Their only hope of survival was to get as far away as they could before doubling back. After that, the only way to return home would be hitch a ride with a surge of Nuorean ships heading for the Milky Way. That or find a quiet, out of the way world to settle down on and live out the rest of their lives as Andromedaeans, or whatever they call themselves here.
“Looks like our reprieve didn’t last long,” Sherri declared from her nav board. “They’re coming, and right up the pike after us.”
“It must take time to recharge the generators required to open the wormhole. They know it’s safe to enter the channel.”
“But like before, when they run, we need to run too. I think that if we’re not at the launch point, it could be very dangerous sitting in the line of fire.”
“How many are coming?”
“It looks like all of them,” Sherri answered. “The signal’s too strong to make out individual units. I’ve never been this popular since I got drunk after that high school football game.”
Coop turned to her and snickered. “That was you?”
“Funny. What now?”
“I say our first priority is not to get killed.”
“Damn, Coop, you’re a genius. I hadn’t thought of that.” Then she turned serious. “We have to get sucked back into the Milky Way. For that to happen we have to be in the right place at the right time.”
“That’s never been my strong suit,” Copernicus pouted.
“Have faith, sweetheart. We just need to shake the pursuit and then come up with that miracle plan heroes are known to pull out of their asses.”
“You’ve been hanging out with Cain too long. Sometimes things are just a shitty as they seem.”
Sherri checked the screen again. Luckily, all the pursuit was behind them. She placed a hand on Coop’s shoulder. “If there is one thing I’ve learned from Adam Cain, it’s that surrender is not always the last resort. In some cases it can be an advantage.”
Copernicus nodded. She had a point—maybe. But it sure beat getting blown to atoms two-and-a-half million light-years from home. He cut the engines.
“I have to get back to friendly forces,” Panur stated.
“What do you have in mind?” Adam demanded. “We don’t have much time.”
“That’s why we need to get back. I can’t do what I want to do without resources. And you only have nineteen days left before I leave to search for Lila.”
“You’re still holding to the thirty-day deadline?”
“Of course. Although I would hate to see your galaxy taken over by the Nuoreans, my true interest is in Lila. You knew this all along.”
“You are one cold-hearted sonofabitch.”
“Yes…and I feel really bad about that. But that’s reality, Adam. Now, Mister Tarazi, how fast can you get us back to your lines?”
“That depends? Do you finish your engine modifications first, or do we go on conventional drive?”
Panur smiled. “I am quite impressed. You have brought up a very good point.
Since we are cloaked effectively, J’nae and I can complete the work in twelve hours, fifty-six minutes…approximately. Once completed, the increased capabilities of the drive will easily compensate for the delay in leaving. Very good.”
“I’m glad you’re impressed,” Adam barked. “What’s so important that we leave the area without doing—anything?”
“Do you recall how we first met?”
“Yeah, you were the head genius for the fucking—excuse me J’nae—Sol-Kor.”
“And how were the Sol-Kor so successful against your forces?”
“The suppressor beam!” Riyad called out.
“Precisely. I propose to build two platform projectors—the kind we used against planets—and position them across the entry point. When a fleet arrives, we simply negate the crews and then have your ships destroy the enemy vessels. It might even be impressive to let the massive debris field be sent back to the Nuoreans a few days later. At that point they may reconsider their plans to invade the Milky Way.”
“Will the beams work on the Nuoreans?” Adam asked.
“It’s designed to work on any being with upper intelligence, as witnessed by the variety of planets we were able to harvest. It will work on the Nuoreans.”
Adam was silent, staring at the tiny mutant. He had to admit, it was a great idea. Nearly all Union and Expansion warships still carried the counter-suppressors, so they wouldn’t be affected by the reintroduction of the technology to the galaxy. But to the Nuoreans, it would be a whole other ballgame. He liked the idea, but it would take time to implement.
“How long would it take to build the platforms, as well as give some of our ships projection capabilities so we can place them?”
“That would depend on the sincerity of the effort, but assuming an all-out campaign, three months at the most.”
