Frontier's End: A Seth Donovan Novel

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Frontier's End: A Seth Donovan Novel Page 13

by Jim C. Wilson


  “How do you expect to learn the designs without reverse engineering it?”

  “I have a neuro-module pulled from the Sectis we killed. We’ve been trying to break into it for weeks, but we simply don’t have the processing power to do it.”

  “If you haven’t gained full access to it yet, how do you know the designs are in there?”

  “I’m assuming they are. The Sectis seemed to me to be the brains of the whole Ghantri race. If anyone would have them, it would be them.”

  “You know what they say about assumptions, Mr Donovan?”

  “Yes, sir. They’re the mother of all screw ups.”

  He was silent for a time, deep in thought. I could see he was intrigued.

  “How do you intend to fathom their use?” he said finally. The fact he was talking about leaving the drive in the Cruiser was a good sign.

  “I know some talented engineers, and I have an exceptional deep space navigation AI that would love the challenge. If you crack that module before I work it out, you can tell me how they work, too.”

  “And if they tear your ship apart instead? What then?”

  “I’m sure Stirges will have lots of ideas about how to spin that outcome.”

  He chuckled. “He would love the opportunity. I have to ask, have you been spying on our strategy meetings?”

  “Sir?”

  “The Eridanians are all riled up about your revelations last week. They’re calling for action, some way to confirm your claims.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “If you get those Jump Drives to work, you may have just given us the perfect way to find out what the Ghantri are doing in the nebula.”

  “I suppose I might have.”

  “You sure you haven’t gotten someone to tell you what we’re planning?”

  “No, sir. I just know what we need to do.”

  He smiled at me, his eyes shifting to the colour of amusement.

  “You got yourself a deal, Mr Donovan.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Now, you have a decision to make.”

  “Sir?”

  “We can’t keep calling it that Cruiser or your Cruiser. You’re going to have to name it.”

  “Yes, sir. I already have a few ideas.”

  “Good. I’ll leave it to you. If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with the Tyrillian ambassador in ten minutes.”

  I returned to the docks to give the team the good news, then stayed on for several hours going over the plans. There was still a lot of work to do, and I was itching to get back out into open space. I also had crew dossiers to read up on, progress reports to write, procurement meetings to get materials for our manufactories and munitions, training schedules to review and a girlfriend to take to dinner.

  Over our meal, I spoke at length about my plans. She listened intently, but I could tell she was getting bored of it all. She was a tinkerer, not a planner, strategy was not as important as a puzzle to her. I asked her about the possibilities of long-term deployment in deep space, she simply shrugged.

  “It’s not too different to long term near space deployments, to be honest. We’ve been on one long deployment since last year. Since Corus Cluster.”

  “True, but this time there’s no way we can contact anyone if we need help.”

  She chuckled. “Still sounds the same.”

  “So it doesn’t bother you?”

  “It sounds interesting. I’ll probably get bored once we’re out there, but so long as there’s something for me to do and I’m close to you, I should be fine.”

  “I want the Dreaming with us too.”

  She leant back in her chair. “How do you expect to sell that to Max? And for what purpose?”

  “Linus Drives require helium-3. Chances are, we’ll be travelling to dozens of unexplored star systems. Not all of which will have gas giants we can farm and I don’t want to waste time mining regolith from random planets and asteroids. Once we arrive in a system, I don’t want to burn all my fuel searching for the Ghantri. We can ration our fuel, but if there are no gas giants to farm when we get to a system…”

  “There’s a good chance we’ll end up being stranded,” she said, nodding, “Or spend weeks digging through the upper crust of planetoids. The Dreaming uses hydrogen in her Ion Drives.”

  “You paid attention!” I said, smiling, “You weren’t just staring into my dreamy eyes when I took you through the engineering spaces.”

  She thumped my arm. “So how are we going to get the Jump Drives to work on the Dreaming as well? Tow it?”

  “Nope. I’ve replaced the cargo hold as part of the refit. It’s now a hangar bay. It’s just big enough for the Dreaming to slide into.”

  “And if Maxine says no?”

  “Come on,” I said, still smiling, “It’s me!”

  23.

  “No. Absolutely not,” said Max, arms folded under her bosom.

  “What? Why not?” I said.

  “You want me to join you on some fool quest to find the Ghantri gods?”

  “Not exactly, but close enough.”

  “No.”

  “Why not? This is the grandest of adventures I’m offering you. True explorers of the galaxy! Think! They could name a star system after you!”

  “Where’s the profit to be had in that? Sounds like a whole galaxy of danger for very little gain. I understand why you need to go do it, but the Dreaming does not need to go on a military, or exploration, mission. We’re sticking to safe, profitable courier runs for a while.”

  “You want profit? How does surveying sound?”

  She blinked. “I don’t follow you.”

  “Think about this. If we get this technology working, it’s going to revolutionise space travel. The moment a Corporation gets their hands on a working Jump Drive, they’ll zip out to all the nearest mineral rich star systems and start staking claims.”

  She looked at me for a while, pondering what I had just said. I took a sip of the wine I had bought us, which we were sharing on the balcony of our apartment.

  “You think I could stake claims?” she said after a while, “The Corporations would lawyer up in an instant.”

  “Perhaps, but you’ll have done the surveying for them. You could just about name your price. Why send ships out to random star systems with the hope they will strike it rich when you can just send ships directly to where the money already is. You can save them millions in surveying costs, transportation, time. Time is money to the Corporations.”

  She swore under her breath, while she reached for her glass. “So you think I could tag along and take notes on the star systems we hit? Sell it back to whoever pays the most?”

  “Sounds like easy money.”

  “Bullshit. So you think you know why I would want the Dreaming there, but why do you?”

  “Can’t a man just want what’s best for his family?”

  “I know you, Donny. You are your father’s son, through and through. You’re a sly bastard, smart even. But I raised you, remember that. What’s the real reason you want the Dreaming with you? Don’t give me that line about saving fuel, either.”

  I thought about it hard, for a while. “You told me once that I was the heart of the Dreaming, whether I believed it or not. The reverse is true as well. I miss you guys. I miss the ship. This Cruiser is a tool, a vessel to get us to the stars, but the Dreaming is my heart. You and Zoe…the guys…”

  “Oh, shut up,” she said, smiling, “I’m getting all misty over here.”

  She rubbed her eyes, which were starting to tear up.

  “I don’t know how long we’ll be away,” I said, “but I won’t care so long as everything I hold dear is close to me. The Inner System worlds are going to poo, there’s nothing I can do to stop that. If I know you’re safe, if you’re with me, it will be one less worry I have to deal with. I can use you, I can use the Dreaming. At the same time, I can give the family business a head start.”

  I looked her in
the eyes while I spoke. She listened, then nodded her head.

  “Alright. I’ll talk to the crew. Put it to them. It does sound lucrative, I’ll give you that.”

  “You’ll be drafted as civilian contractors. Hell, I bet the Protectorate will probably have to pay you a retainer.”

  “Now there’s a good idea. A running tab with the Protectorate. About bloody time they started paying us for doing their job.”

  “Hey now, I bought you that wine, didn’t I?”

  “I’m a sovereign nation now, my boy. My rates have gone up!”

  “Something harder then? Whisky?”

  “You know I like my liquor how I like my men!”

  “Max! Too much information!”

  I raced to the bar and grabbed a bottle of something strong, along with two glass tumblers. As I poured a few fingers in each glass, I could see Max tapping her chin – she often did that when hatching a plan.

  “Okay, so we ride your Cruiser off into the great unknown. You park your barge someplace safe and the Dreaming does some scouting. What happens if we stumble across the Ghantri? Or worse, the Destroyers?”

  “We get out. Finding them is no use unless we get that information back to Protectorate Command. We’re not interested in prolonged space battles, but if we can manage it, find out the extent of their infrastructure. Locate shipyards or planetary strongholds.”

  “Will there be any ground missions?”

  “Maybe. Depends.”

  “On?”

  “On what we find. We may even find habitable planets or inhabited planets. It would be a wasted opportunity if we don’t make contact with any indigenous life. Maybe, they could tell us about our quarry.”

  “What about the chain of command? How’s that going to look?”

  “You’ve been doing this a lot longer than I have. You were my mentor for most of my life, Max. I’m not going to tell you what to do.”

  “So I’m in charge?” she said, one eyebrow raised to match her lopsided grin.

  “Ha. I wouldn’t go that far. How about a shared arrangement? I’ll follow your lead on the Dreaming, as always. On the Cruiser, you defer to my judgement.”

  “You’re going to have to pick a name for her soon, you realise that? It’s getting a bit old referring to it as the Cruiser.”

  “I’m waiting for the right amount of inspiration to strike me.”

  “Procrastinating, you mean? You always put off tough decisions for too long, Donny. Just like Caster.”

  “What tough decisions did dad ever have to make?”

  She stopped smiling. “Your mother.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh, indeed.”

  “You know, Osiris Blackburn told me he knew my mother. He knew old man Hieron, too.”

  “I knew your grandpa and him had some history, it doesn’t surprise me he knew your black-hearted mother as well. For completely different reasons too, I bet.”

  “He never told me, just dropped it during conversation.”

  “Don’t you go wasting your time getting your mind all twisted up thinking about that woman. She’s no good, Seth.”

  “I know, you’ve all told me. You and Eric did a fine job making sure I never liked her or the things she did.”

  She softened a little, reaching across the table to rub my hand. “I’m sorry, Donny. I know it seems cruel, not knowing your own mother, but she abandoned you. She was more interested in controlling things than loving them.”

  We sat in silence for a while, sipping our drink.

  “So,” I started, “the Votus?”

  “Hm, hmm?”

  “Has he really fit in with the crew? He seemed so stuffy when we first met him.”

  “He’s a know-it-all, and takes things a little too literally, but we got through some shit together. We respect each other. The cat’s a fantastic shot with the beamer, too.”

  “That was him on Ambrose Station?”

  She nodded.

  “How did you know we were in trouble?”

  “We saw the destruction of the university and investigated. When we saw a large band of marauders break away from the main body, we followed. Took us a long time to get into position. Firing into an atmosphere does terrible things to your aim. Mel worked furiously to get the maths right to make sure that the shot wasn’t refracted in the wrong direction. Would have been a hell of an anti-climax if he was a fraction of a degree out.”

  “I really thought we were dead, then. I was completely out of options.”

  “I see now why you wanted us on this journey of yours. You need someone to pull you out of the fire when things get too hot.”

  I nodded, raising my glass. “That, and I need someone who can pull my head out of my own arse from time to time.”

  She smiled and raise her own glass. “To pulling heads out of arses!”

  It wasn’t long before we were drunk and toasting our new partnership. Well, I was drunk. I was pretty sure Maxine was just happy.

  24.

  By the time that our second month on Collumus Station came around, enough of the Cruiser’s interior had been overhauled for more specialised upgrades to begin. We pulled out most of the junk equipment manufactured by the Ghantri, the stuff not designed for that class of ship, and started installing modern equipment. When I asked Admiral Jalabir about the cost of these modifications, he simply smiled and mentioned the value that I brought to the organisation. I argued that wasn’t a franchise that would make the Protectorate money, but he disagreed. They’d already pimped my image out to several sponsors across the Network.

  I really was their poster boy. Literally.

  “Consider it a small price to pay for the good you’ll be able to do,” he’d said, “Recruitment into the Protectorate is at a twenty-year high, thanks to your story. Let’s not mention the effect your speech has had on the delegates from our talks.”

  I had left Jalabir’s office in a huff, although looking back on it I admit that I was simply acting on impulse. If my image was making the Network a safer place, then I couldn’t fault the Protectorate for what they did with it.

  Jalabir also pulled some strings for us, although I was betting that he didn’t have to tug on them too hard. When the engineering spaces were safe for regular crew to work in, a team of scientists arrived at the station to help study the Jump Drive. The lead scientist, a mean-faced man of unkempt appearance named Isidro Gaston, began to make working in the engineering spaces something the crew lamented. He intimidated the other scientists and insulted the crew when they got in his way. He offered no suffix to his name and offered no titles beyond Professor. Even Zoe found him a rude tutor, with little patience for laymen.

  I decided to have words with him, but found him a difficult man to corner, blustering his way and shunting others from his workspace. He was one of the last scientists to arrive, automatically assuming leadership of the team without even introducing himself to me. I decided to play him straight. If he could get the elusive Jump Drive functional, I’ll forgive him his eccentricity. However, if we were to work together, I had to know what measure of man he was. I was also curious as hell to find out what the Jump Drive could do.

  So, I studied up on the man.

  Turned out, he was a bonafide rock star of Jump Gate technology. Known across several Networks, he was intimately involved in the construction and entanglement of sister Gates. He had also published several papers on dimensional theory, often disparaging rival minds in the industry. I found a holo-recording of him arguing with a trio of Votus scientists during one of his infamous public outbursts. The man had pissed off and stared down Corporations, governments and institutes alike. He made my parlay with the Sectis on Ambrose seem like pillow talk.

  It became clear to me that if I did nothing to reign this guy in, he’d run roughshod over my entire team. I needed him to play nice.

  “Professor,” I said, a week after he began his reign of terror, “I’d like to go over a few things with you. As soon as
possible.”

  “You can book an appointment with my assistant,” he said, dismissively, “just like everyone else, Commander.”

  He waved me away and turned back to his work. When I didn’t leave, he stopped what he was doing and turned to face me, hands on hips.

  “Is there a problem? Did I use too many big words?”

  “Not at all, Professor Gaston, I merely…”

  “I’m a busy man,” he interrupted, “If you have a message for me, you can submit it through the ordinary channels. I’m not here to inflate your ego, I’m here to do science. Ground-breaking science, I might add.”

  “I understand why you’re here, I just want to make sure you do, too.”

  “Let’s just pretend that you’ve said your piece and that I’ve said whatever I’m required to say to make you go away and call it a good chat. Hmm?”

  “I’d rather we work together…”

  “Oh, really? Have you a Doctorate in Applied Cosmology? Perhaps Quantum String Laws are your speciality? Written some papers on nth Dimensional Relativity? No?”

  “Not exactly…”

  “Forgive me, Commander, if I seem blunt. I work with peers. You, sir, are most definitely not my peer…”

  “That’s correct, Gaston. I’m your employer.”

  He pulled up short, puffing the air out of his cheeks. Before he could continue his rant, I carried on.

  “This project, that is absorbing what I can only guess is your vast intellect, belongs to me, Professor. So if you want to be involved in this ground-breaking opportunity I’m offering you’re going to have to check your ego.”

  He folded his arms and regarded me from along the length of his nose, a snarl on his lips.

  “You don’t think that you need me.”

  “You think you’re the only one that can crack this,” I gestured to the mass of electronics and esoteric devices strewn about the engineering space.

  “Are we going to stand here all day and trade accusations at each other?”

 

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