by Thomas Fay
‘He’s one of them?’
‘I wouldn’t say that but, given his dream of an independent Icarus, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s worked with them. It’s something else we don’t agree on. While their goal is a worthy one, their methods are unsupportable. Especially after the Atlantis V cargo ship disappeared when they disrupted that gateway. Did they ever find out what happened to those people on board?’
I shook my head.
‘No. The scientists at the Vasnikov Institute believe they would have simply ceased to exist the moment the gateway was disrupted.’
‘At least that’s something.’
We sat in silence for a moment. A sharp twinge in the back of my head reminded me I needed to ask Roger D something else.
‘There’s something I need to ask you.’
‘Sure.’
‘Jeni. Who is she really?’
Roger D leaned back into the heavily upholstered couch.
‘Now that is a complicated question. Who she really is, I don’t know. What I do know is, when I was looking for a medic and life support specialist, I heard about a brilliant doctor working in Alpha Centauri. Through back channels, of course. She was trying to keep a low profile but her skills were clear to anyone who worked with her.’
‘I was wondering about that. How did you get her to join your crew?’
‘It wasn’t easy. At first she wanted no part of my venture but I agreed to run an errand for her. In hindsight, I probably should have asked what it was first.’
I raised my eyebrows in surprise.
‘Let me get this straight—you agreed to do something without knowing what it was?’
‘Yes.’
‘That would do it, I guess. So what did she ask you to do?’
‘It was a mercy run. Medical supplies and vaccines to the stricken Abydos research station.’
‘That was you? We had a report of a free-merchant ship running supplies to the Abydos station but we never found out who it was.’
Roger D nodded.
‘After that Jeni agreed to join the crew. She still works at the medical centre in her spare time but she’s saved us more than once. Her skills are second to none, as is her knowledge of life support systems.’
I nodded. The pieces were falling into place. There was just one more thing I needed to know to be certain.
‘Do you know if she has a scar, about two centimetres long, on her left upper arm?’
‘Yes, she does. How did you know that?’
‘Because I think I know who she really is.’
31.
The Helios Ark detached from the Proxima III asteroid base. Its manoeuvring thrusters fired, propelling the ship into the asteroid field. Dayna skilfully guided the Cygnus-class free-merchant ship through the barren rocky field, avoiding even the smallest debris. Reaching open space, she ignited the ion drive for a brief ten seconds. Cutting power, we drifted through open space.
‘Is this far enough?’ Dayna asked.
‘Yes,’ I said.
Dayna fired the reverse thrusters, cutting our forward momentum. We hung suspended in the emptiness of space.
‘I don’t see anything,’ Roger D said. ‘Are you sure—’
‘Sirs, I am detecting unknown quantum signatures approximately one kilometre in front of us,’ Mason said.
‘That’s them,’ I said. ‘Hold the ship steady.’
Space warped around the Helios Ark as five dark shapes dropped into normal space. Ultra-slimline stealth vessels, matt-black in colour, they appeared to be rifts in the very fabric of space. One of them pulled up alongside the Helios Ark and extended a docking tube.
‘I’m going to get her back,’ I said, standing up.
‘Watch yourself, John,’ Roger D said. ‘We’re here if you need us.’
‘Thanks.’
As I turned to leave, my eyes fell on Dayna. I imagined the Centaurians watching me through her eyes. The thought of Selize’s mother, the commander of the Dyson Alpha star port, watching me, brought home the responsibility I was undertaking.
‘I’ll bring her back. I swear.’
Dayna nodded.
‘Be careful. Whatever they’ve done to Selize, I can’t sense her and neither can anyone else. You need to get to her soon.’
‘I will.’
With that I turned and walked out of the main deck. Reaching the central cabin, I opened the airlock and made my way across into the Spectre vessel. The airlock sealed behind me as the ship pulled away.
I was greeted by a covert operative clad in black composite infiltration armour.
‘Sir, Spectre Squad Alpha reporting as requested. Ready for mission deployment.’
‘Thank you, Captain …?’
‘Captain Michael Argus, sir.’
‘You made good speed, Captain.’
‘Thank you, sir. This way.’
I followed him through the narrow corridor into the main deck. The consoles were occupied by three other operatives, all clad in black infiltration armour. Spectre operatives were required to be mission ready at all times.
‘Our mission, sir?’ Captain Argus asked.
‘We’re tracking a Proxian vessel through dark space. It departed from this location a standard hour ago. Personnel retrieval—our target is aboard that vessel.’
‘Understood, sir. Tracking programs running. Dark-space re-entry in ten, nine, eight …’
As the captain counted down, I settled into an empty acceleration couch. Even though I was fairly certain she wouldn’t hear me, I cast the thought out anyway.
Selize, I’m coming for you.
PART IV: SIRENS MIND
32.
The light from Alpha Centauri’s stars shone through the viewing pane, illuminating Chiron’s frozen surface.
Selize and I walked hand in hand through the corridors of the Dyson Alpha star port. We looked at each other. We smiled. We laughed. Her crystalline cat’s eyes shimmered with an ethereal quality as they reflected the azure ambience of her birth stars.
I blinked. The star port was gone. We were standing on the surface of an alien planet. Towering cliffs rose up out of the rocky ground and stretched up for kilometres into the dark sky. A pale-green mist swirled around our feet and coalesced into churning clouds covering the surface. I looked at Selize. Then I looked down at a young Centaurian standing between us.
She was Selize and she wasn’t. Her crystalline eyes reflected the pale light of the twin star system.
We were back inside the Dyson Alpha star port, inside Selize’s quarters. We were lying on her bed.
‘John,’ Selize whispered. I felt her hands on my back, on my shoulders and around my neck. She kissed my ear, sending a jolt through my entire body. I rolled over, enfolding her in my arms.
‘John.’
‘Selize?’
‘I’m here, John.’
I looked deep into her eyes. Her beauty mesmerised me. She whispered how much she loved me. I smiled. I was content. I was happy.
The scene shifted. I was inside a medical facility: the CARIL institute deep below the surface of Luna. A narrow pale-grey corridor stretched out before me, with doors evenly spaced on either side. I paused, my hand on the door sensor of room D-12. I reached out and activated the sensor.
Inside the room was dark. Only a thin strip of illumination along the walls provided light. The room pulsed with the steady blinking of life support equipment. There was a single bed in the centre of the room. I moved closer.
The figure on the bed was skeletally thin. Sunken eyes, cheeks and arms that were little more than bones with flesh stretched across them. A series of tubes and wires were inserted directly into the sides of her skull. I barely recognised the confident, beautiful Raptor pilot I had fallen in love with years ago. I leaned in closer and whispered her name.
‘Vanessa.’
Her eyes fluttered weakly. Slowly, they opened and she focused on me. Her mouth moved.
‘John,’ she said, her voice b
arely above a whisper.
The words caught in my throat as my chest constricted. I felt helpless. Despite my position, all my experience, the battles I’d fought and won, I was completely helpless.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I finally managed to say.
Silence. I looked down at the hospital bed. Vanessa was gone. In her place Selize lay unconscious on a metallic slab.
Selize?
John?
Selize, I …
Her eyes opened. Then she screamed.
Help me!
I sat up. Cold sweat covered my entire body. My breath was coming in short, sharp bursts. The back of my head felt like I’d been hit with a lunar hammer. It took me a full sixty seconds to catch my breath. I stood up. Picking up a glass of water, I drank it in one swallow. I sat back down on the bed.
The Spectre ship was still in dark space. There were no viewports in the chamber or anywhere else aboard the vessel. It didn’t need them. It had been designed and built for one purpose only—operating in dark space.
I had first learned about the Spectre project after my promotion to rear admiral. A highly classified Sirius project, Spectre had involved a combination of the best theoretical physicists the Vasnikov Institute had ever produced working with the finest star-ship technicians the UEP had. Together they had analysed data on the Proxians’ dark-space abilities and managed to create a working theory on how to shift the physical mass of a star ship, along with its contents, into a subset of normal space dubbed dark space. It involved the use of graviton flux generators to alter the cohesive forces within the very molecules of the ship’s structure combined with a special type of propulsion system called the inversion drive.
Despite my background in star-ship engineering, my understanding of the inversion drive was limited by my lack of theoretical physics. What I did manage to gather from the highly technical specifications was that the inversion drive always maintained a single molecule of normal space and one of dark space at its core. This allowed it to phase in and out of the two subsets of space and also to communicate and perform scans between them.
It had taken them another ten years to create the first functional prototype. After that, the Spectre ships became one of the most formidable covert resources in the Space Navy’s arsenal. In addition to being undetectable by conventional means, dark space also allowed for faster travel, as the ships were not subject to conventional physics.
I stood up. I knew the headaches would only get worse until I found Selize. My Lazarus implant was clearly struggling to cope with the break in the Centaurian telepathic bond, judging by the vividness of my dreams. I wasn’t even sure what had been real and what had been imagined. All of it had seemed so real. The memories of Vanessa in the CARIL facility had been real. That was the last time I’d seen her. But the scene on the alien planet had seemed just as real. It was as if a part of the Centaurian bond was still active, buried in some deep layer of my subconscious. I needed to get Selize back.
It had been almost fifteen standard hours since the Proxians had kidnapped her from Proxima III. Spectre Squad Alpha had deployed back into dark space and pursued the Proxian vessel. We had a good lock on them. The Spectre ships were the most advanced covert ships ever constructed. We were also deep inside Proxima Centauri, light years away from help, on what was effectively an unsanctioned rescue mission.
An intercom buzzed above my head. I hit the button.
‘Yes?’ I said.
‘Sir, the Proxian vessel is slowing down. We think it’s about to re-enter normal space.’
I took a deep breath.
‘Understood. I’m on my way.’
33.
The transition back into normal space was accompanied by the faintest tingling sensation and a momentary feeling of weightlessness. In contrast to dark-space travel, UEP gateway travel was undetectable by human beings although some people reported a sour aftertaste. This had never been conclusively verified.
On the view screen the Proxian vessel, designated Anubis-class by Space Navy Intelligence, according to Earth centric conventions for classifying alien vessels, emerged from dark space in high orbit around a dusty brown planet with a single icy moon. The light from Proxima Centauri washed over the ship, illuminating the intricate hull designed for dark-space travel. One side of the elongated pyramid shape housed a pair of particle engines. They ignited, hurling a flaming burst of plasma as the ship accelerated. It angled downwards, skimming through the upper reaches of the planet’s atmosphere.
‘Where are we?’ I asked, sitting down at an empty console. Only the lead Spectre ship had emerged from dark space and at considerable distance from the planet. The gravitational interference from the planet, combined with the stealth design of the ship, would make it impossible for the Proxians to detect us.
‘This is the planet Gamma V, Proxima Centauri system,’ Captain Michael Argus replied.
‘Habitable?’
‘No, sir. We’re detecting considerable seismic activity on the surface. No structure could survive down there.’
I leaned forwards to stare at the view screen. The Proxian vessel was streaking across the upper reaches of the atmosphere, leaving a flaming trail in its wake.
‘Where are they going?’
‘I don’t know, sir.’
‘If it’s not habitable then there must be a facility in orbit or …’
‘Sir?’
My gaze shifted to the frozen moon. It reminded me of Earth’s satellite. It also made me think of the Erebus Prime space station, located in the L-1 Lagrange point between Earth and its moon.
‘Zoom in on the closest Lagrange point—full magnification.’
The view screen’s display shifted rapidly as the powerful optical sensors enhanced the centre of the image. A multi-section elliptical space station with concentric rings was revealed. The rings rotated slowly around it at different speeds, reminiscent of some ancient clockwork machine.
‘There! That’s it.’
‘Scanning …’
As the Spectre vessel’s sensors performed a passive scan on the Proxian base, I closed my eyes and concentrated.
Selize? I cast the thought out.
Nothing.
Selize, can you hear me?
John, is that you?
Her voice inside my head was faint, barely above a whisper. I could sense her fear and panic through the telepathic link. Images of a cell, dark and cold, flashed through my mind. I clenched my fists in frustration.
I’m here, Selize. Are you alright?
No … no, I’m not. They injected me with an inhibitor. It’s wearing off but it hurts. I’m having difficulty focusing.
I’m going to get you out.
What do you mean? Where are you?
We’re holding a safe distance from the Proxian base.
John, you shouldn’t have come! The Proxians, they—
Selize, it’s okay.
No, you don’t understand. They’ve been planning this for a long time. Kidnapping me was just the final act.
Final act in what?
Invading Alpha Centauri. I managed to read one of them before they injected me with the inhibitor. The Proxians have been planning this for years, decades even. You’ve got to go back and warn my mother.
I’m not leaving without you.
Please, John. You have to warn my people. They’ve done something to me. I … can’t sense the others. Only you.
I’m getting you out of there. I promise.
Hurry, John. I’m scared.
My eyes snapped open. The view screen was showing the results of the passive scan. The Proxian base was of a design I had never seen before. It was clearly built to be deployed in a Lagrange point, judging by its gravity-balancing arrays. There was also something vaguely familiar about the configuration of its power systems and the nature of its exterior plating. They were arranged around a central core, designed to direct power into a focal point at its centre.
I leaned forwards.
‘Is that …?’ I asked.
‘Yes, sir. It’s a class III gateway generator.’
‘Is it functional?’
‘As far as our sensors can tell, the gateway generator is currently dormant but appears to be fully operational and capable of creating a wormhole reaching at least 0.5 light years in distance. I’ve never seen one set up like this before.’
I leaned back, my eyes fixed on the screen.
‘Neither have I.’
‘Sir, we have no record of the Proxians possessing gateway technology.’
‘I know, Captain. This is a very unusual and concerning discovery.’
‘Orders, sir?’
‘We need to inform Command.’
‘Yes, sir. Lieutenant Chan, deploy coms satellites and get a tight-beam relay back to Command.’
34.
Spectre Squad Alpha had entered a geostationary orbit around Gamma V’s icy moon, remaining on the dark side, away from the Proxian base’s sensors. All five ships had re-entered normal space. They hung suspended in the vacuum, their matt-black hulls virtually indistinguishable from the darkness of space. A series of miniature satellites deployed around the frozen moon provided constant visual and sensory data, allowing our ships to monitor the Proxian base while remaining out of sight.
‘Status?’ I asked.
‘Sir, the Proxian vessel has docked with the base,’ a black-clad operative, Lieutenant Louisa Chan, replied.
‘Any word from Command?’
‘No, sir. They’re still evaluating the data we sent them on the gateway generator, as well as the incident on Proxima III.’
‘Are you sure our communications are secure?’
‘Yes, sir. We’re feeding back along a tight beam from a dedicated satellite network interfacing with a UEP coms array in Alpha Centauri. It’s secure but slow given we’re sending the signal in bursts at low power. The upside is that it’s virtually undetectable. Even if the Proxians had their coms array pointed directly at one of our satellites they’d mistake it for background noise.’
