Time passed as PDD missiles sought out enemy ships, and failed almost every time to reach close enough to detonate. Without the battlejumpers’ helping graviton beams, the missiles simply lacked the ability to breach the enemy’s defensive fire.
The corresponding missile explosions—not the missile warheads exploding but the delivery systems—helped to mask our fleet’s increasing velocity. Soon, we lost sight of the lead Plutonian warships. Not long thereafter, we lost contact with the last massed PDD missiles.
We were buying time for as long as the missiles lasted. Would that be long enough?
The fleet accelerated, rushing through the surrounding gases. Fortunately, the gases had considerably thinned as compared to near the planet.
On the Demetrius’s bridge, I started pacing. The idea of the moon-sized PDS igniting the planet, which would ignite the special gases…It made me thoughtful. What had the ancient First Ones been trying to achieve with that possibility? Had letting the Plutonians live after a fashion lessened their collective guilt for some reason? Why bother putting the Plutonians in a pocket universe? It must have taken fantastic effort to build such a place.
Would the Curator know the answers? Would he tell me if I asked him?
I paused in my pacing. Once this was over—if we survived—was I going to take Jennifer back to the Fortress of Light? I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I realized I didn’t want to make the decision yet.
“Concentrate,” I told myself.
“What’s that?” Ifness asked.
I thought about asking for his advice concerning the problem, but decided I’d rather not.
I restarted pacing, letting my worry take over so I wouldn’t have to think about ideas that were more painful.
What do you want to hear? It proved to be a harrowing journey, with several surprise Plutonian assaults against the fleet. In the end, we reached the dimensional portal. Ifness told Rollo how to configure the portal to take us back to Earth.
“Don’t try any tricks this late in the game,” I whispered to Ifness.
He jumped away from me, scowling. Perhaps he hadn’t heard me sneak up behind him.
I held the longish handle as I stared into the hitman’s filmy eyes. Did he see my thumb hover over the last needed button? Did he realize the red power lines would emerge and I’d lop off his tricky head if he did something…false?
“First Admiral,” Ifness said, facing the screen with as much dignity as he could muster, “there is one more thing I’d like to add.”
“Oh?” Rollo asked from the flagship.
“Enter these coordinates instead of the ones I just gave you.”
“What’s that?” Rollo asked. “The first coordinates were wrong?”
I cleared my throat. On the screen, Rollo glanced at me, at the inactivated axe-handle and then into my eyes.
“Oh,” Rollo said, before focusing on Ifness again. “We’ll use the new coordinates then. What are they?”
Ifness gave them in a cheerful tone. After Rollo signed off, the hitman turned to me. “You can put that away. We understand each other.”
I patted the longish handle. “I’ll keep this around just in case.”
“As you wish,” Ifness said. “Now, where is the Globular Blaster you owe me?”
“Once we’re safe, you’ll get it.”
“I’d like it now, if you please.”
“I realize what you want,” I said. “But you’re not getting the blaster just yet.”
Ifness fingered his lower lip, finally saying, “You keep insisting I trust you. It’s about time you trusted me.”
“You really want to pursue that line given what just happened?”
Ifness muttered under his breath and finally shook his head.
Outside our battlejumper, the giant circular dimensional portal received the latest coordinates. Soon, the boxes glowed with energy. As the energy built up, Plutonian battleships reached our vicinity. The heavy-class warships bored in against the waiting fleet.
Fortunately, Rollo had been ready for something like this to happen. He gave the order, and massed signals went out to inert torpedoes seeded behind us and now amongst the closing Plutonian warships.
The warheads exploded. I doubt they breached any enemy hulls, but the Plutonian assault did not begin yet. Instead, the battleships slowed or stopped altogether. Then, we detected enemy beam-fire as the battleships undoubtedly sought out any remaining torpedoes.
Rollo’s torpedo-mine tactic was buying us time. Would it be enough, though?
Ahead of us, the portal as a whole began to glow and swirl. After another tense two minutes, Rollo gave the order. Our ships surged for the swirling, glowing area—and the sensation of rushing through immense, inter-dimensional distances took over as streaks of light flashed across the main screen. The light-streaks intensified, lengthening—and suddenly, everyone on the bridge surged forward as the battlejumper jerked to a stop.
I must have been one of the first to look up. I laughed. Soon, others looked up and joined with me in laughing, shouting and slapping each other on the back. We were in the Solar System. To be more precise, we were two hundred and forty-seven thousand kilometers from Luna Base. We were home. We’d made it. But had the pocket universe exploded as we’d hoped and destroyed the terrible enemy for us?
No one in the fleet knew the answer. Thus, First Admiral Rollo gave a wise order considering the many possibilities. At emergency acceleration, the fleet roared away from the location. At the same time, battlejumpers issued an emergency alert to the Moon, to Earth and to all nearby vessels.
All such vessels heeded the warning, accelerating at top speed to put themselves behind the Moon or behind the Earth in relation to the location of our initial appearance.
Sixteen and a half minutes later, an opening appeared where we had first entered regular space. The opening was from the pocket universe, of course. Yes. Plutonian battleships began entering our space. First, there were three. Soon, eight had plunged through. Then, seventeen of the terrible Plutonian vessels had reached our space-time continuum.
Next…next was one of the most frightful explosions I’d ever witnessed. A raging fire blew through the opening. The flames expanded and reached one-third of the way to Mars’ orbit. The inferno blast incinerated the seventeen Plutonian battleships. The great gout from the other dimension—that surely proved an entire space-time continuum blazed with an end-time fury—utterly devoured the seventeen battleships caught within it.
Thankfully, the dimensional portal snapped shut after that. No more Plutonian ships came through. No more end-time fire raged in our space-time continuum. Likely, no more Plutonians existed over there, as the planet, PDS and every ship had to have fallen in the consuming fury of gaseous destruction.
Had that been the plan of the ancient First Ones all along? Why go to such crazy lengths to save a race and then ensure their total genocide?
I shrugged. I wasn’t a First One. I had a woman that might be turning into a First One, though…
Thinking about Jennifer both depressed and elated me. I had completed the first part of my mission. I’d stopped her from destroying humanity. Now, I had to win back her love. Well, I had to restore her sanity to begin with. Could I make her love me afterward?
I stood on the bridge of the Demetrius, staring at the afterimages of the terrible fury from a dying pocket universe.
Had most of the energy been consumed in the separate space-time continuum? Or had some leaked out into other places. What was the wall between dimensions? I’d been to two different realms of reality in my life, three if one counted hyperspace.
I sighed deeply. Okay, I’d won round one. What was going to happen with round two between Jennifer and me?
I also had Ifness and Saul to worry about, never mind the Curator. While I could rejoice and maybe relax for a few hours, I still had not reached the conclusion of this particular mission.
-91-
The days drifted together as
I debated possibilities concerning Jennifer.
The GEV was in Earth orbit as the AI oversaw internal repairs. I’d added certain features that had allowed the stealth ship to fashion a new robotic repair team. Then, I had given a list of needs to the Prime Minster. General Briggs himself had overseen the shipments of the parts to my vessel.
The AI had assured me I’d be able to begin the journey home to the Fortress of Light in another two weeks at most.
Home. Where was home for me? Home is where the heart is. Where was my heart? That was easy. It was Earth. That meant I was already home. Did I want to go away again to the center of our galaxy?
I hadn’t made up my mind yet. Much of the answer would depend on Jennifer.
And what about Ifness the Hitman?
Yes, I paid Ifness with the Globular Blaster. I was a man of my word…most of the time. I also returned to him the two phase-suits.
Diana soon heard about Ifness. The Prime Minister asked if I would come to Earth with him.
I consented, and Ifness left the Demetrius aboard a shuttle. I arrived on the surface two days later in my flitter.
First Admiral Rollo kept his rank and post in the fleet. I thus had little worries regarding my safety. The Police Proconsul was gone. Briggs was a good man. Diana—I did not think my old friend would screw me. Even so, I made certain preparations just in case, as she had been with Ifness for two days already. I hadn’t become the Galactic Effectuator for nothing.
I went down to New Denver, but this time it was to a mansion built on a mountain slope. It was huge, a veritable Louis the XIV-type palace. This, I learned, was Diana’s retreat.
I parked the flitter on a landing pad and followed a liveried servant into the house. There, General Briggs met me in the first living room. A team of burly space marines stood along the walls.
“General,” I said.
“I’m glad you came down, Commander,” Briggs said, coming forward to pump my hand. After letting go, he said, “The Prime Minister wants your advice on several matters.”
I nodded.
Briggs and I spoke about other things for a time. Finally, red-suited bodyguards entered the living room. I wondered who the new Police Proconsul was. I was relieved that it wasn’t Ifness. The hitman was a fast talker, and I’d been wondering what he could talk Diana into.
Finally, the Amazon Queen in a Louis the XIV-era gown appeared. The flowing and costly dress highlighted her delightful bosom to awesome effect. I was stunned to see Ifness enter next. He wore a courtier’s suit with buckled shoes. It fit him somehow, especially with the powdered wig the men had worn at that time.
“Commander Creed,” Diana said. “I’m so glad you came down. Let us go for a walk, the three of us.”
Diana took my right arm and guided me from the living room. Ifness followed behind us. General Briggs did not follow. The space marines stayed where they were. Only the red-suited bodyguards followed at a discrete distance.
We moved through a Hall of Mirrors that reminded me of the Curator. For a moment, I wondered if the old duffer had come to Earth in his Moon-ship.
We passed out of the Hall of Mirrors and entered a garden with many fountains and gorgeous flowers everywhere.
Here, Diana stopped, releasing my arm. She flounced her gown and sat on a ledge beside a pool with lily pads, frogs and large, lazy goldfish.
Ifness sat on a small boulder, crossing his legs and letting his left foot move up and down to an internal beat. He seemed at ease, but I doubted that. I wondered what game the hitman had played with Diana.
I spied a chair and dragged it near the two of them, sitting down, leaning back, trying to appear as if I was relaxed.
“You did it, Creed,” Diana said. “I congratulate you on a job well done.”
I dipped my head in acknowledgement.
“Of course,” Diana said, “you never would have achieved success without Ifness.”
I waited, saying nothing to that.
“Do you disagree with my prognosis?” Diana asked.
“Not at all,” I said.
She smiled, glancing at Ifness. For some reason, that made the hitman uneasy, although I doubt anyone else noticed.
“Earth could use Ifness’s talents,” Diana said.
“No doubt that’s true,” I said.
“Do you disapprove of the idea?” Diana asked. “I sense disapproval.”
I eyed the slippery hitman. While staring at him, I told Diana, “Not if you take the necessary precautions.”
“Such as?” Diana asked.
“He has two phase suits,” I said. “If you leave those in his possession while he’s serving you…” I shook my head.
“Is that true, Ifness?” Diana asked. “Do you own two phase suits?”
Ifness breathed deeply so his nostrils flared. “I haven’t decided if I wish to stay here or not,” he said, primly.
“You’re changing your mind?” Diana asked.
“Not necessarily,” Ifness said. He raised an index finger, aiming it at me. “Uh, are you staying on Earth?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” I said.
“Does Creed’s decision make any difference to yours?” Diana asked Ifness.
“No, no,” Ifness assured her. “I’m simply curious.”
“The present Lokhar Emperor has proven to be quite a nuisance to Earth,” Diana said in an obviously hinting manner.
“I could, uh, manage the situation for you,” Ifness said. “Of course, to do that I would need my phase suits, and Saul’s help, naturally.”
“That makes sense,” Diana said. She asked as if it was a mere afterthought, “What would such management cost?”
Ifness glanced at me before answering. “I prefer not to say in front of the Commander. It’s nothing against him, just a professional courtesy. You understand?”
“I’m not sure that I do,” Diana said. “Creed loves Earth. He helps to protect its interests.”
“Then hire him,” Ifness said, peevishly.
Diana raised her lovely brows. “Are you for hire, Creed?”
“I’m still thinking about it,” I said.
“If that’s the case,” Ifness said, “I should be leaving.”
“Should I let him go?” Diana asked me.
Ifness stiffened, opened his mouth, maybe thought better of what he was going to say, and closed his mouth.
“Ifness has two phase suits, as you just pointed out,” Diana said, “and a Globular Blaster. I imagine you could use both, could you not, Creed?”
“This is an outrage,” Ifness said, exploding with indignity. “Creed does not murder a friend for mere gain, nor does he steal from a companion-in-arms.”
“I’ve been thinking about what you told me a while back,” I told Ifness. “Maybe I should reconsider my Effectuator ethics, to become more like you.”
Ifness’s eyes bulged, but he quickly reverted to seeming unconcern. “No, no, that’s ridiculous,” he said. “You’re clearly not hitman material, Creed. Stick to being an effectuator or the savior of the human race. Such noble occupations suit you.”
“Diana,” I said, coming to a decision, “using Ifness is possibly a double-edged sword. Jennifer lost everything through employing him.”
“Lost?” Ifness asked, as if surprised. “Jennifer is on the verge of regaining her former humanity. I would call that a fantastic turnaround for her.”
“No thanks to you,” I said.
“On the contrary,” Ifness said. “I was instrumental in her…rescue. Her rehabilitation I now leave to you.”
In that moment, I decided to refrain from further arguing, as Ifness actually had a point after a fashion. He’d also struck a nerve. How was I going to rehabilitate the monster, Jennifer, back into the wonderful woman I’d known years ago?
-92-
The first attempt to rehabilitate Jennifer left me gasping.
A Demetrius shuttle had already taken Jennifer in her sleep-suit to a sanatorium in old Nevada nea
r refurbished Lake Tahoe. Today, they were going to revive her, and I would be watching.
I arrived in my flitter, spoke to the chief director and soon found myself behind a two-way mirror looking into an armored cell. The chief director announced my presence to those in the cell and then took his leave.
Ella and two nurses were with Jennifer, still in the sleep-suit and lying on a large heavy table. The Russian scientist flexed her fingers, asked if the others were ready and approached the suit. Delicately, Ella tapped in the code to begin the revival process.
The nurses monitored special machines aimed at Jennifer. Ella backed away, clicked open a holster, drew a dart gun and hid it behind her back. Today, now that she’d entered the code, she was security.
The table was situated at an angle. Thus, from the other side of the two-way mirror, I saw Jennifer’s eyes snapping open. That was odd. She was supposed to be groggy, but she was like an awakened bobcat inside a dog pound full of barking inhabitants.
“It’s fine,” a large nurse said smoothly. “You’re with friends.”
“Friends?” asked Jennifer, as if tasting the word and finding it sour.
“Yes,” the large nurse said. She wasn’t fat, but strong—in here because of her known strength.
“Where am I?” Jennifer demanded.
“Near Lake Tahoe,” the nurse said.
Jennifer frowned. “That is not on the PDS.”
The nurse shook her head. “You’re no longer in the pocket universe.”
The wariness in Jennifer’s dark eyes heightened. “Creed hit me. I remember that. It’s the last thing I remember.”
“Creed and the others brought you to his stealth ship,” the nurse said—Ella had filled her in on the pertinent details.
Jennifer raised her head, again reminding me of a bobcat checking its surroundings. Her eyes darted everywhere, taking in the mirror. She stared at it.
From the other side, even though she shouldn’t be able to see me, I looked into her eyes. Jennifer recoiled as if she could see me, or sense me in some fashion. She glared at the head nurse.
“You’re with friends,” the nurse repeated.
Target: Earth (Extinction Wars Book 5) Page 34
