by T. R. Harris
“The underground operations center.”
“What operations center?” Sherri asked.
Copernicus smiled. “Remember, I was a pretty valuable asset for Union intelligence back in the day. I had ins with all the major cartels and other criminal organizations in this part of the galaxy. Because of that, I had a near-unlimited budget. There’s a fifteen-hundred-square-foot, metal lined, advanced security bunker under the building, complete with a weapons arsenal, sleeping quarters, CW communications equipment, and more. And all hermetically sealed and completely self-sufficient.”
“Why didn’t you tell us about that?” Sherri asked, her anger swelling.
“Need-to-know, sweetheart. You didn’t have any need for it.”
“How do you know? We might have.”
“Well, the bottom line is I need it now, to track Aric’s ship.”
“And once you know where he is, what then?” Adam asked.
“Yeah, about that. I’m going to need a starship, too.”
“No way!” Sherri said, finally letting her anger take over. “How can we trust you to bring it back in one piece.”
“If I don’t, I’ll get the Union to reimburse you.”
“All this for money?” Adam asked. He was watching Copernicus with one of those looks as if he could read his mind. Does he still have an ATD? “What’s this really about, Coop? The Union doesn’t give a damn about two billion credits. It spends that much on cigars back in D.C. You’re not doing this—including breaking some revolutionary leader out of prison—for a few billion JCs. Tell us, or you’re not getting into your underground command center.”
Well, shit, Copernicus thought. He knew it might come down to this when he found out Aric was going to Liave-3. He nodded.
“Okay, but remember, I’m not authorized to tell you this. I could get in a lot of trouble if they know I did.” He took a deep breath. “Think about who Aric Jroshin is.”
“Someone who stole part of a planetary treasury,” Riyad answered.
“From where?”
“Gracilia. Okay, he’s a Gracilian.”
“And what do we know about Gracilians?”
“They’re pretty fucking smart, for one thing,” Adam said. Then his eyes grew wide before narrowing again to slits. “This doesn’t have anything to do with dark matter, does it? Their research facility was destroyed, and then we hid the Dark Matter Collector. They haven’t found it, have they?”
“Not that I know of,” Coop said. “But it doesn’t matter. Yes, this has everything to do with dark matter and dark energy. Even before Kracion came on the scene, there were rumors that the Gracilians had continued their dark matter experiments. The facility they had out beyond the galaxy wasn’t their only research station. And from what we’ve learned, the Dark Matter Collector we took from them and hid away, that wasn’t the only one they found in the Zaniff Asteroid Field.”
Sherri’s eyes were round from fear. “There’s another collector? Holy shit. Do they know how dangerous it is?”
“I’m sure they do. The Gracilians know more about dark matter than anyone alive today. They’ve picked up where the Aris left off three billion years ago.”
“What are they going to do with it?” Riyad asked.
“I’m not sure, but I have an idea.”
“What?”
“That spaceship they have is being powered by something I’ve never seen before. Aric wouldn’t let me in the engine compartment, but I could tell. And then I saw the energy signature of it as it came to get us out of the freighter; one hundred percent. You know what that means. Nothing has a signature like that. I think they’re using dark energy to power their ship. And by the way, it made a trip of fifteen thousand light-years in only two weeks.”
“That’s TD speeds,” Riyad pointed out. “And without the damaging effects.”
Sherri shook her head. “Okay, so they have a fancy ship powered by dark energy. What’s so bad about that? There are only a few of the Gracilians left in the galaxy. What harm can they cause.”
“Again, I don’t know,” Copernicus admitted. “All I know is that they have more than one of those advanced warships. The design and construction are too refined. That ship was mass-produced. Can you imagine what a fleet of ships like that could do? All powered by dark energy and possibly even carrying dark matter weapons?”
“Still, there’s only about a million of them,” Adam said. “And they’re not all in one place. They’re scattered across the galaxy. Even if the Gracilians were planning something earlier, after Kracion, all their plans had to go up in smoke.”
“You would think so,” Copernicus conceded. “However, Aric said there was something really big taking place soon, and he wanted to be a part of it.”
“The vote?” Sherri said. “Maybe he was talking about the vote.”
Copernicus shook his head. “It sounded more sinister. He would have told me if it was just about being available to cast a vote. This was something else.”
“So now you want our help in tracking him down, to see where he goes and what he does?” Adam asked. “And you’ll need a starship to do that.”
Copernicus took a deep breath. It was late, and he hadn’t slept for more than six hours over the last three days. He was tired of all the questions. “Listen, I’ve been thinking about this. Aric took a trip into the mountains by himself. Then he turned right around and came back down. Then he left the planet.”
“He’s afraid of getting caught,” Sherri said.
“Maybe, maybe not. What if Aric got what he needed, and it wasn’t the money?”
“A collector!” Adam cried out. “You think he has a second collector?”
“It’s small enough to fit in a car, and when all is said and done, it’s worth a lot more than two billion credits. Maybe it’s part of this grand scheme he and some of the other Gracilians have cooking. If they’ve learned how to utilize dark energy in their machinery, and also to weaponize it, who cares if there’s a million of them left. At one time, there was only a quarter-million Klin left in the galaxy and look at all the trouble they caused. I need to find him, and if he does have the collector, we have to get it from him before something really bad happens.”
“You said we,” Sherri said.
Copernicus smiled. “It would be easier if we had the band back together. After all, we’re going after a race of evil geniuses bent on galactic domination. Sound familiar?”
Adam ran his hand through his short, blonde hair. “All too familiar, I’m afraid.”
Copernicus looked at Riyad and Sherri. Each was in some mild form of shock, but he could tell they’d already made up their minds.
“You say this bunker of yours has a weapons arsenal?” Adam asked. “Any bang-bang Human-type weapons there?”
Copernicus smiled wickedly. “They’re over ten years old, but yes, along with enough ammunition to eliminate what’s left of the Gracilian race.”
Adam bit his bottom lip before speaking again. “Okay, then. It looks as if it’s time to kick some more alien butt. Saddle up, my friends. It’s time to save the galaxy … again.”
13
The next priority was to find if Coop’s makeshift tracking device was working. Adam unlocked the front door to the old shipyard headquarters, and the team entered the cold, dark interior. A few months ago, a hostage situation took place here, followed by a firefight. Shortly after that Adam sealed up the building.
With flashlights in hand, Copernicus led the team to the rear of the building and into a bedroom. Within the closet was a secret door that led to the much smaller comm center the team knew about. But then Coop fingered another hidden panel, and a door slid open, with a ladder going down.
The four Humans climbed down before Copernicus turned on the lights. They gasped, the brilliant, even lighting revealing another world, one of shiny metal walls and floors and sophisticated electronic consoles. It was a single large room, with a caged weapons arsenal at the far end and a pa
ir of utilitarian sleeping bunks set off in a corner. There were a refrigerator and food processor. Computer screens began to flicker on as a hidden internal power source rebooted the systems.
Adam moved to the weapons. The cage was unlocked. He opened the gate and pulled out one of the dozen old M-101 assault rifle standing upright on a rack. Yes, the weapon was old, having been replaced by the M-102 several years ago. But it appeared new and well-oiled. It would do nicely. Along another shelf were stacks of magazines, hundreds of them. There were enough armament and ammo down here to hold off a small army indefinitely. Fortunately, they wouldn’t be staying.
Copernicus took a seat at the central computer station. He was frantically tapping on the keyboard, shuffling through several screens to get what he wanted. Sherri leaned over his shoulder.
“I have to align the CW comm antenna first,” he told her.
“You have a CW antenna?” Sherri asked incredulously. “Where?”
“It’s buried underground, in a series of long conduits. I can focus it by making minor adjustments to the orientation.” He looked over his shoulder at her and smiled. “The best money can buy.”
After a few moments, Coop had what he was looking for. “Okay, there he is. He’s nearing the edge of my tracking range.” The image zoomed out, taking in the outer reaches of the Dead Zone, out near the end of the Kidis Frontier. He snorted. “Looks like he’s heading for Gracilia. That makes sense.”
“But the place is still radioactive,” Sherri pointed out.
Copernicus tapped more keys on his board, and another screen came up. “This is from the galactic Library. It says the radiation level on the first planets attacked by Kracion has dissipated, almost to the safe level. Sure, the ground is still sterile and there are hotspots, but for the most part, you don’t need environment suits to move around. Aric is making a beeline for the planet, but there’s still no guarantee he won’t change course. I’m going to download a copy of the tracking program so I can transfer to the nav computer of the starship you’re going to let me use.”
“That will have to be the Ed Gibson,” Riyad said, regret thick in his voice.
“What’s the Ed Gibson?” Copernicus asked.
Sherri let out a deep sigh. “It’s a bloated freighter we have. It’s one ugly son-of-a-bitch, and it doesn’t have any armament to speak of. It’s the only spaceship we have left in our inventory. It will get us to Gracilia, but don’t expect it to help us in a fight against any of those advanced warcraft.”
“Wait, is that the Boens-4, Class-C freighter I once had here?” Copernicus asked anxiously.
“I believe so,” Sherri said. “We got it from the shipyard. Are you going to tell me it can transform into something badass with the flick of a switch?”
Copernicus grimaced. “Unfortunately, no. It’s just that it was one of the first ships I salvaged when I opened the shipyard. I find it funny that it’s still working.”
“Working is a relative term,” Sherri said.
Copernicus retrieved a data chip from the computer. “Hurry up, Adam. Let’s get the weapons and ammo loaded. Aric has a good head start on us and he’s in a faster ship. We don’t want him to get too settled in before we find him.”
The team set to work shuttling most of the armory into the transport. The car was loaded down and strained to move once the Humans climbed aboard, with most sitting on stacks of M-101 ammo. Then they set out for the Kanac Spaceport where the Ed Gibson bad been relegated to a back corner of the landing field. A lot of the major salvage work in the DZ had been taken over by big corporations who had their fleets of their own. Riyad’s outfitting business catered to smaller operations, ones that could get by with much smaller spacecraft than the Ed Gibson. He hadn’t rented out the huge vessel in nearly a year.
Adam, Sherri and Riyad transferred the weapons to the ship while Copernicus set to work priming the lifting jets and giving the gravity generators a quick check. He concluded the ship could still fly, but for how long, he wasn’t sure.
“Who’s been doing the maintenance on this thing?” he asked.
“Mostly Jym, when he has the time,” Riyad reported.
“I guess he’s been busy recently,” Coop said sarcastically. “Hopefully, we can hitch a ride back here from Gracilia. I doubt this ship could make the return journey.”
Adam patted Coop on the back. “That’s why we have our own certified starship repairman aboard. I have confidence in you, Mr. Smith.”
Copernicus scoffed at the comment. “Everyone strap in,” he said. “We’ll either lift-off when I fire the jets or we’ll be consumed in a ball of fire. The odds are about fifty-fifty either way. And then there’s the question as to whether or not the gravity generators can form a well.” He looked out the viewport and pointed to another spacecraft located a safe distance away. “Perhaps it would be better if we just stole that one.”
“Stop your bitching and just get us going, Coop,” Adam ordered, switching to his seldom-used command voice. It didn’t impress anyone on the bridge.
There was a moment when Adam thought Copernicus’s statement about the Ed Gibson ending up as a ball of fire was about to true. He’d never heard such a loud and prolonged lift-off sequence, and by the time the huge freighter was off the ground and speeding for space, half the Kanac Spaceport was engulfed in a gigantic cloud of acrid lifting smoke. But they made it into space, and the trusty old starship managed to form the first in a long series of miniature blackholes, propelling it forward and out of the Liave star system.
The planet Gracilia would take six days to reach, and Copernicus already calculated that Aric Jroshin would beat them there by three of them. Fortunately, once the Ed Gibson was up and away, the tracking signal on the dark matter starship grew stronger and well within range. They would be able to track it to the surface of Gracilia, and if Aric left again, they would see that, too.
Of course, Adam was still rather vague as to what they would do once they caught up with the alien. He had no idea how many Gracilians were on the planet and what force they would encounter once they got there. Besides that, they weren’t sure Jroshin had the second dark matter collector—or any dark matter collector for that matter. It was all supposition.
During the trip, Adam had time to reflect on the first time he’d met a Gracilian and learned of dark matter and dark energy to any great degree. A pair of the black-skinned aliens came aboard his Klin Colony Ship, bringing with them a pair of dark matter containment cubes and a wild story about how the microscopic particles inside the objects had the potential to destroy the galaxy. At first, he didn’t believe them, but later, he’d used a pair of the containment cubes to carve out a huge circular chunk of a spaceport and the surrounding town. And that was just two particles. A Dark Matter Collector could produce a constant supply of ninety of the cubes, whose accidental—or deliberate—detonation would have an exponential effect on surrounding space. One collector could produce a gravity singularity the size of one-tenth of the Milky Way. And something that big and powerful would be able to suck in far more than a tenth of the galaxy. Eventually, the Milky Way would cease to exist, and all from a device the size of a small suitcase.
During his time out in the galaxy, Adam had experienced a lot of strange things, but dark matter—and it’s twin sister, dark energy—was the most exotic, most mind-boggling concept he’d ever come across. And scientists on Earth had known of dark matter even before Humanity became part of the galactic community, although its properties were only theoretical. Reality—as always—was proving to be more deadly.
The Ed Gibson chugged along, performing a symphony of creaks and moans from the stresses faster-than-light travel placed on the hull. After a few days, the crew got used to the sounds, worrying only when the creaking stopped, which wasn’t often. Adam had an ace up his sleeve, that being Summer Rains and her bounty hunting crew. They had their own starship, and if need be, could come pick them up out of the void if the EG broke down. They would wan
t something in return—that something being Aric Jroshin. Whatever it took, Adam thought. Turning him over to the bounty hunters would hopefully stop what the alien had planned for the Dark Matter Collector—if they found him in time. And if he had a collector. After a while, Adam retreated to the small observation dome above the bridge and stared out at the warped stars outside. He didn’t have any answers, only a lot of questions. He passed the time kicking himself over his chronic impulsive behavior. When would he learn not to volunteer—for anything?
14
As it was with all the Dead Worlds, the Gracilian star system was like a tomb. In most civilized systems, there was a plethora of traffic and comm chatter, evidence of a thriving, space-faring culture. Within the Dead Zone, entire systems were as quiet as a graveyard. Gracilia was no exception. The EG slowed and approached the planet cautiously, which was hard to do exposed as they were by the vast emptiness of space and giving out the only energy signature in the system. Jroshin’s ship was stationary on the surface, its engines shut down and giving out no energy readings. A quick survey from archived topographic maps showed it was in a desert, miles away from any of the abandoned settlements. It was also not visible from space, meaning it was now underground in a hidden bunker of some kind. This information only reinforced Coop’s view that the Gracilians were up to something, something sinister.
The Ed Gibson wasn’t the type of spacecraft that could leisurely enter an atmosphere and take the long way to the surface. It entered and dropped straight down, the incredible weight of the vessel sucking up gallons of landing propellant by the second. There was no time to linger. What was going to happen on the surface was going to happen. They needed to get there as soon as possible and set up a defensive perimeter.
Adam winced when the huge freighter semi-crashed to the ground. It was tough, but the rough nature of the landing was asking too much of the old guy. He scowled at Coop, who shrugged, embarrassed.
