by Thomas Fay
I nodded, my eyes never leaving the image of the Proxian base on the screen. It had been over two standard hours since we’d arrived in orbit around Gamma V. I tried not to think about what they could be doing to Selize but it was impossible. Every fibre of my being was pushing me to get her out.
‘So we’re just supposed to sit here and wait?’
‘Sir?’
I clenched my fists. The Space Navy’s inability to act, even when action was required, was one of the things that had frustrated me the most. Despite having the most advanced and powerful space fleets in the known universe, it could be paralysed into inaction by rules and regulations. Or worse, political considerations. If this were any other situation, I probably would have understood the need to follow due process. But this was Selize.
‘I need to get on that base,’ I said.
‘Sir, if we approach the base we’ll be detected. There’s nothing other than the moon to hide our approach from their sensors,’ Captain Argus said.
‘Only if we approach through normal space.’
Captain Argus turned around in his acceleration couch, disbelief evident on his face.
‘Sir, you want us to approach and attempt an insertion in dark space?’
‘Yes.’
‘But that’s suicide!’
‘Captain?’
‘Sorry, sir. It’s true though. It’s never been done before.’
I smiled. I guess there were some benefits to being part of the Space Navy’s upper echelon.
‘It has been done. Spectre Squad Beta managed a successful dark-space insertion into a Jovian moon base.’
‘Sir? How is it that we haven’t heard about it?’
‘The information was classified and for good reason—the last thing we needed was word getting out about Space Navy ships being able to appear inside star ports. Command wanted to keep this as a last resort measure. I’m granting you one-off security clearance to access the mission data.’
I input a string of commands into the terminal at my side. A series of heavily encrypted files appeared on the captain’s screen. He scanned through them quickly, nodding his head as he did.
‘I’ve never seen the inversion drive calibrated like this before but in theory it should work. The margin for error is very small. No wonder Command kept this under wraps.’
‘Exactly. It works and it’s undetectable. We initiate in one hour. Captain, make the necessary preparations.’
I stood up.
‘Sir, what about Command?’
I looked at each of the black-clad operatives in the control room.
‘I won’t order any of you to do this with me. I’m going. What you choose to do is up to you.’
With that I left the control room and returned to my quarters. Sitting down on the bed, I took a deep breath. Clearing my mind of distractions, I reached outwards.
Selize?
John? Are you still here?
Yes, Selize. I told you I’m coming for you.
No, John. You have to warn my people. They can’t be—
It’s alright, Selize. Space Navy Command knows what’s going on. The vice admiral is formulating a strategy and the First Fleet is on its way to Alpha Centauri.
First Fleet? John, what aren’t you telling me?
I wasn’t just a Space Navy engineer who performed covert operations. I was … I am, a rear admiral in the UEP Space Navy.
I could sense the surprise through the telepathic link. I smiled as I heard Selize’s voice inside my mind.
I guess things really will be alright—
Selize? What’s wrong?
There’s someone here. John, help me! They’re going to—
The telepathic link ended abruptly. I tried to reach out to Selize but to no avail. I desperately hoped that she was alright. The cold chill spreading throughout my body told me otherwise. I had to get her out. Now.
I stood up. My head exploded with fresh pain, forcing me backwards onto the bed. I squeezed my palms against my temples, trying to make it stop. My breath was coming in short, sharp bursts. The abrupt severing of the Centaurian telepathic link felt like being hit with a disruptor blast on its lowest setting. I didn’t even want to think about what Selize was experiencing.
My Lazarus implant had to be close to complete overload from the constant disruptions in the telepathic link. The cabin swam before my eyes as the pain continued to build. Just when I thought I would black out, it eased to a dull ache. I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes, breathing slowly.
After a while I finally managed to sit up. My head was still throbbing. I realised there was no way I could rescue Selize in this state. I reached for the coms panel.
‘Yes, sir?’
‘I need to get in touch with someone.’
‘Certainly, sir. Who do you need to speak to?’
‘Roger D. He’s the captain of the Helios Ark free-merchant vessel, the same ship you rendezvoused with near the vicinity of Proxima III. Get him on the coms. Now.’
35.
A faint hiss of air escaped from the hyper-syringe as I injected its contents into my neck. I took a deep breath. My head began to clear almost instantly. The PDP-3 neural inhibitor, the same one Jeni had given me on my first mission with the Helios Ark, spread throughout my brain, blocking the Centaurian telepathic connection. Or, at least, the negative side effects of separation.
I picked up the second hyper-syringe. This one contained a mixture of alpha and beta blockers. It was used by the Space Navy to counteract the side effects of excessive neural stimulation on a subject’s body, predominantly in marines after extended combat sessions. I injected it into the other side of my neck. I was hoping this wouldn’t become a regular occurrence. Images of SyntheticD-44 users stimmed out of their minds surfaced unbidden, as did thoughts of Vanessa and the debilitating effects of her enhancements. The Space Navy played a dangerous game with people’s lives.
‘Is it working?’ Roger D’s voice asked over the coms.
‘Yes, I can feel my head clearing already,’ I replied. ‘Are you still in Proxima III?’
It took ninety seconds for my message to travel back to Proxima III and another ninety seconds for me to hear the reply. While communication within colonised space was almost instantaneous thanks to p-waves, the use of the miniature coms satellites and focused beams back to Alpha Centauri was creating a delay.
‘Mason and I went back to deal with Horris. Dayna wanted to kill him but I managed to persuade her to stay with the ship. No telling how many more of those Proxians are running around the base.’
‘Did you find Horris?’
‘Would you believe he was still in the private room at the Flaming Orion?’
‘What did you do to him?’
There was a long silence.
‘Nothing. Horris knows what he’s doing. He gave us detailed information on Marvik’s activities on Proxima III in exchange for leaving him alone. John, Marvik’s movements, they’re strange, to say the least.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Horris said he was on Proxima III at least once every couple of weeks during the past year. He’d only stay a few hours each time he docked.’
‘What was he doing?’
‘That’s where it gets really strange. As best as Horris could tell, Marvik wasn’t doing anything. He’d sit in a bar for a few hours, get his ship refuelled and then take off again.’
‘He didn’t meet with anyone? Go anywhere else?’
‘No.’
‘That is strange. When did Marvik first start showing up in Alpha Centauri?’
‘About a year ago. We beat him to a claim on an asteroid rich in silver. After that we kept running into him on a regular basis. We were always one step ahead until he attacked us in the asteroid field.’
‘Given the connection between Marvik and the Proxians, we need to look at things in a different light. First, Marvik’s been operating in Alpha Centauri for about a year. Second, he’s never succe
ssfully lodged a claim ahead of you, yet you kept encountering him in isolated parts of the system. Finally, he’s been returning to Proxima III every couple of weeks.’
‘What do you think he’s really been up to?’
‘No idea. But I’m getting very worried. The fact that he attacked us in the asteroid field tells me one thing.’
‘Which is ...?’
‘There was something there he didn’t want us to find.’
‘Of course! Why didn’t I see it before?’ Roger D exclaimed.
‘Because you had no reason to suspect anything like this. Besides, you’re a free-merchant vessel; it’s not really your job to prevent interstellar wars. That’s what the Space Navy is for.’
‘Sure, but …’
‘I know. You’d do anything to keep Dayna safe.’
‘Damn right.’
I suddenly thought of something.
‘Do you still have the survey data from the Hyperion?’ I asked.
‘It should still be there. We only purge once every six months. What are you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking that whatever it was that Marvik didn’t want us to see is in that data. Those mining rigs are equipped with a full scanning array across all spectrums.’
‘Mason, pull up the data.’
‘One moment, sir,’ I heard the android say.
‘Any idea what we’re looking for?’ Roger D asked.
‘Any form of structure or unusual reading that shouldn’t be in that asteroid field. You’ll know it when you see it.’
There was another long silence. I took a few deep breaths, thankful the pain in my head had subsided.
‘I believe I have located something, sir.’
‘What is it?’ Roger D asked.
‘A structure of some sort. Displaying on the view screen now.’
I waited until the image appeared on my liquid data screen. It showed a circular portal, about four hundred metres in diameter. There was no mistaking what it was.
‘Damn. That’s a gateway anchor, isn’t it?’ Roger D asked.
‘Yes. That’s how they’re going to deploy their fleet. This is a full-scale invasion.’
‘But wait. It’s unpowered.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. There’s no recorded electromagnetic activity, zero emissions.’
‘There has to be more to this. They wouldn’t go to all that trouble to construct the gateway anchors in secret if they had no way of powering them.’
‘I agree. We’ve got to warn the Centaurians.’
‘They already know, as does the Space Navy.’
‘What can we do, John?’
‘Do you know where Marvik is now?’
‘No.’
‘Alright, keep looking for him but be careful. I’ve got to go. Contact the Space Navy if you find him and they’ll relay the message to me.’
‘Will do. Stay safe.’
‘You too.’
I switched the coms off. The door chime sounded.
‘Enter.’
The black-clad form of Captain Argus opened the door.
‘Sir?’
‘Yes, Captain?’
‘We’ve completed our assessment of the Proxian base.’
I nodded, motioning for him to continue.
‘The gravity-balancing arrays provide a small window to scan the interior of the base, while their shielding cycles. We’ve built up a high-resolution internal structural schematic.’
‘Good work. So we’ve got a clear picture of where we’ll deploy?’
‘Yes. We’ve also identified what we believe are key areas: holding cells, medical centre, command deck, power plant, docking bays, life support and so on.’
‘I sense there’s some bad news in there somewhere, Captain.’
‘Yes, sir. The Proxians’ dark-space ability means they don’t construct their bases like other species.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Several critical sections of the station have no discernible access.’
‘You mean they phase in and out of dark space to access them?’
‘It would appear so, sir.’
‘Which areas?’
‘The command deck for one but the power plant and life support are also unreachable by conventional means.’
‘So there’s no way we could take control of the station if we had to?’
‘No, sir.’
I nodded, my mind racing.
‘That shouldn’t be an issue. Can we access the holding cells from the deployment point?’
‘Yes.’
‘Medical centre, docking bays?’
‘We believe so. There appears to be an internal lift structure, similar to our turbo-lifts, running through the station. My guess is they still use conventional means to move cargo and supplies around. There are three lift points spaced evenly around the periphery of the structure, running from top to bottom. Corridors spread out from each and allow access to most areas, except for the critical ones where the corridors simply terminate. Then you have to pass through several metres of solid metal.’
‘What’s your assessment, Captain?’
‘I believe it’s achievable, sir. Two teams—one secures an evac point, ideally in one of the larger docking hangars. The second team takes control of the lift and proceeds to the most likely location where the target is being held.’
I nodded.
‘I agree. Are we ready to deploy?’
‘Yes, sir. I’ll personally lead team two.’
‘No, you won’t, Captain.’
‘Sir, I—’
‘I need you in command of Spectre Alpha-1. Not only do you need to ensure we deploy safely inside the base, you need to retrieve both teams afterwards.’
‘Yes, sir. I understand.’
‘Good. Let’s go.’
36.
Spectre Alpha-1 re-entered dark space. I experienced that instant of weightlessness along with the tingling sensation across my skin as the ship transitioned from normal space. The view screen depicted a 3D geometric construct of our position in space relative to Gamma V, its icy moon and the Proxian base. The sensor arrays contained within the Spectre ship were a marvel of theoretical physics and practical engineering. Using the gravitational disturbance generated by objects in normal space, the sensors were able to accurately compute their location from dark space. This allowed for seamless entry and re-entry between dark space and normal space.
I had seen a highly classified report of an initial dark-space trial where a ship had re-entered normal space too close to Sirius’s star. The ship had disintegrated during re-entry, prompting considerable focus on the sensors.
‘We’re approaching the base. Prepare for insertion,’ Captain Argus said. I stood inside the aft airlock, along with six heavily armed operatives clad in black infiltration armour, including integrated EVA helmets. As much as I disagreed with how the Space Navy got things done, I couldn’t fault the people who served. Not a single Spectre operative had declined to take part in the mission to rescue Selize.
‘Stand by for insertion. Ten … nine … eight …’
As the captain’s voice counted down, I activated my infiltration armour. Its dense force fields sprang into existence, coating me in a near-impenetrable layer of energy. The operatives around me did the same.
‘Seven … six … five …’
I slid the reactor chamber into place on my lunar disruptor. The weapon began to glow a deep azure colour. My actions were mirrored by the operatives.
‘Four … three … two …’
I planted my feet firmly and squared my shoulders to the airlock. The operatives formed up around me. I bent my knees, ready to leap forwards.
‘One.’
Spectre Alpha-1, still in dark space, passed through the outer edge of the Proxian base. There was no discernible effect of travelling through what was solid matter in normal space. The team that had initially unlocked the secrets of dark-space travel believed that
the only cosmic phenomenon that would affect a ship in dark space was a black hole. The intense gravitational disturbance would manifest itself as a distortion even in dark space, as anything too close would be drawn into the aftermath of a collapsed star. It was just a theory, untested, and not one I ever hoped to experiment with.
Spectre Alpha-1 hung suspended in the void of dark space.
‘Are we in position?’ I asked.
‘Yes, sir. Gravitational sensors confirm we’re inside a large open area on the lowest level of the Proxian base.’
‘How certain are you of that?’
In his defence, Captain Argus didn’t even hesitate.
‘I’m certain, sir.’
‘Do it.’
The ship began to phase out of dark space. The moment it fully re-entered normal space, the ship’s inversion drive stabilised the ship in a nil-gravity field, allowing it to hang suspended inside the artificial gravity of the Proxian base. The airlock cycled open. As one, the operatives and I moved through the airlock, weapons at the ready. We found ourselves inside a docking bay. It was filled with a number of storage containers and cargo pods. The lighting was a dim amber colour, akin to emergency lighting. There was no sign of any Proxians. I lowered my weapon.
Spectre Alpha-1’s airlock cycled shut behind us and the ship dropped back into dark space. It had cleared the floor of the docking bay by less than a metre. I chose not to think about what would have happened if it had emerged any lower.
‘How’s the air, Lieutenant?’ I asked.
‘Breathable, sir,’ Lieutenant Chan replied over the short-range coms.
‘Gravity?’
‘About 1.1 Earth standard.’
‘Looks like we can save the EVA function until we need to evac. Alright, team two, secure our exit point. External airlock, two hundred metres. Team one, with me.’
Three of the operatives moved across the cargo bay to an airlock partially obscured by cargo pods. The other three formed up on me. We ran along the metallic decking, making our way towards the internal lift system. Our passive scans had revealed much of the internal configuration of the base. Despite this, the Spectre operatives had been unable to identify Selize’s location and with the PDP-3 neural inhibitor blocking the Centaurian telepathic link, I wouldn’t be able to sense her either.
