Trapped

by Scott Bartlett

  “No one’s blaming you, Vin,” said Admiral Iver as he motioned for Husher to have a seat in front of him. The admiral’s office was spacious and meticulously decorated with various monuments to war…and to Iver’s own years in the military.

  The flag aide that had shown Husher into the office saluted smartly and left. Husher quietly took in the pair of crossed sabers that Iver kept on the wall behind him. The door shut with a bang, and Husher decided to take it as his cue.

  “That’s not what they’re saying in your waiting area.”

  Iver frowned, looking confused.

  Husher gave a wry smile. “Your secretary likes to keep the news feeds on out there. I suppose some background noise is just what the waiting area needs.”

  Iver grimaced as he realized what that meant. “Don’t let the coverage get under your skin.”

  “They’re missing a few details.” Husher had watched as the main IU spokeswoman described his “destruction of a Quatro ship on a survey mission” without bothering to reveal any of the context—like the fact that it had been surveying in a human system without authorization, and had fired on the Relentless and her fighters repeatedly. Apparently the Quatro were calling for disciplinary action.

  Iver shrugged. “The IU is spinning it.”

  “And?”

  “And what? If you watched that crap long enough, you should know that the human government has your back.”

  Husher grunted. The main newsreader had mentioned humanity’s government backing him, even going as far to threaten withdrawal from the Interstellar Union. “It sounds to me like they’re more interested in their feud with the IU.” He leaned forward, struggling to keep the anger out of his voice. “Who the hell gave the IU the idea that we’d be OK with relinquishing planets in our own systems to appease the Quatro?”

  “No one. That’s clearly an IU ploy.”

  “Are they trying to force humanity out? If they are, then that’s crazy. We’re a founding species. Are the Quatro really so much more appealing?”

  “The IU thinks we’re bluffing,” Iver said. “Or that they can bully us. Or whatever. Basically, they’re trying to have their cake and eat it too.”

  “I’d be happy to tell them how that’s gone for me in the past,” Husher said. “Better yet, I could send my ex-wife to tell them.”

  Iver shook his head. “Point is, everyone’s tired.”

  “Tired of what?”

  “War, Vin! Three galactic wars in our lifetime. The Quatro are saber-rattling, and the IU will do anything to avoid conflict with them.”

  “So we have to give up precious worlds and get a crazy neighbor in the bargain, all because the IU can’t find its spine? No thanks.”

  “Worlds are precious,” Iver said. “Now more than ever. You were there when the war ended. Hell, you were the first one to discover what the AIs had done.”

  Husher grimaced at that memory. Before their defeat, the AIs had torched every usable planet for thousands of light years in every direction. They didn’t need them—they’d served no tactical purpose for them. So they’d decided to ruin them for any other species. It would take centuries of terraforming to save the least-damaged systems. Most were lost forever.

  Husher sighed. “There’s always other galaxies.”

  “And to reach them, we’d have to use interdimensional travel. There are AIs littered throughout the multiverse, Vin. The last thing we want to do is risk leading them back here.”

  “Not for us. For them,” said Husher. “For the Quatro. Make them go find other worlds.”

  “That’s a bit of a tough sales pitch right now.”

  “Oh, you’re a good salesman, Conner. Look how you’ve managed to sell humanity on the IU.”

  Iver narrowed his eyes. “We go back a long way, so I’ll let that little remark go. I might have been in the IU corner once upon a time, but my eyes were opened a helluva long time ago. Longer than you give me credit for.”

  I think you just came around at the very end of the war, when you saw which way the wind was blowing and how it would affect your career. But Husher decided to keep that opinion to himself.

  “Besides,” Iver continued. “If interdimensional travel were ever to fail, as dark tech once did, any new colonies would be lost forever. The Quatro know that better than most.”

  “Humanity knows that better than most, and we have the Quatro to thank for that.”

  Iver held up a hand. “I didn’t bring you here to argue about this crap, Vin.”

  “Oh? Just wanted to get me dealt into the weekly poker game, did you? I bet the other players would love having the Butcher at the table.”

  Iver rolled his eyes. “That nickname is part of the problem.”

  “I’m sure there are others. Want to help brainstorm some new ones?”

  Iver sighed. “Let’s be honest. You should hold flag rank by this point.”

  Husher raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t one to go looking for rank. In his experience, the more stars you wore, the more problems you had. But he enjoyed command, and relished the responsibility of it. It would be a lie to say that he didn’t think about promotion. “But that’s not going to happen.”

  Iver held up his hands. “Optics, Vin. It’s just optics. You’re still a controversial figure. You won the war and saved humanity—and you did it at the expense of many of our enemies.”

  “And their innocent friends and families,” Husher said quietly, filling in the part that Iver wasn’t mentioning. How many had been lost in the collapse of the Progenitor home universe? Billions, at least. Their remains were gone forever.

  Iver frowned. “You did what a soldier has to do. As far as I’m concerned, you earned another star for your actions. I recommended you. Plenty of others did.”

  Husher nodded. Iver was a lot of things, but he didn’t offer flattery just for the sake of it. “I appreciate that, Admiral.”

  Iver nodded. “And that’s why what I have to say next gives me no joy.” He glanced down at a piece of paper in front of him, then looked up again. “The Relentless has been reassigned to another system, far from Woodbine. You’ll be going to Hellebore, where contact with the IU and the Quatro will be kept to a minimum.” He held up a hand as he saw Husher leaning forward to speak. “You have a target on your back now, Vin. It’s out of my hands. You pose a security risk anywhere along the border.”

  Husher leaned back and exhaled. He’d expected this. But why did it seem like such a hammer blow, even so? “You’re forcing me into an early retirement. I mean, let’s call it what it is. A backwater position where I’ll have no choice but to stay out of trouble.”

  “Plenty of captains would see it as a chance to make a fresh start.” Iver didn’t sound like he really believed his words.

  Husher snorted. “Those aren’t captains I care to meet.”

  “You fought alongside a few of them in the last war. They aren’t so bothered by a chance to take it easy.”

  Husher could think of a few that might be true of, but the vast majority would never have that attitude. “Don’t try and shove bullshit in my face and tell me it doesn’t stink, sir.”

  “Fine. It stinks. It stinks to your eyeballs. I hate it. I don’t want to do it, but I have orders to get you out of sight. And while I think plenty of orders are worthless, this one makes sense. There is room for cooler heads to prevail here. Besides, we have plenty of problems beyond dealing with the IU and the Quatro.”

  “Name one.”

  “All right, wise guy. For one, we just received a signal from another universe.” Iver nodded at Husher’s confused look. “You heard me. We aren’t traveling the multiverse anymore, but we can monitor it, and we should. Who knows how many other hostile societies are out there, who might discover an interdimensional pathway back to us?”

  “And you got a signal?”

  “It’s alien. We can’t understand it, but the smart kids back at the lab think it’s a distress signal.”

  Husher leaned f
orward. “Who knows about it?”

  “For now? Just the military and a few government officials we think can keep their mouths shut.”

  “That must be a short list.” A distress signal? From another universe? Husher rubbed his chin. “I have a proposition.”

  Iver tilted his head. “Go on.”

  “Chasing down some alien signal sounds a lot more fun than inspecting cargo holds in some backwater hole-in-the-universe like Hellebore.”

  Iver nodded. “My nephew lives in Hellebore. I’ll send him your regards.”

  Husher stared past Iver. He felt the wheels turning in his mind. “Before my new assignment, I’d like to request some leave.”

  Iver smiled. “You don’t say.”

  He refocused on the admiral. That smile was entirely too broad. “You bastard. This is what you wanted all along, wasn’t it?”

  Iver did a terrible job of feigning surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just know that I need to get you away from the front lines until things blow over.”

  Husher shook his head. “You didn’t need to play the backwater assignment game. I’d have gone for the alien signal right away.”

  “Oh, don’t misunderstand. The Hellebore assignment is no ploy. It’s real, and I can’t change that. But I can postpone it.”

  “How long?”

  Iver shrugged. “How long do you need?”

  “Just long enough to go see an old friend who has a knack for problem solving.”

  Iver reached down to the stack of paper on his desk and pulled the top sheet toward himself, effectively dismissing Husher. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. But hypothetically, if I did know, I’d say I cleared you through all the security the IU has around him. Except you need to move fast, because things between us and the IU could deteriorate quickly.”

  Husher raised an eyebrow. “Hypothetically.” He stood, wondering if he’d misjudged the admiral. He’d always thought Iver’s swift change of heart about the IU was due to politics and nothing more. But maybe humanity was wising up. Maybe men like Iver changing their tune was the beginning of something bigger.

  Without looking up, Iver reached into his desk drawer and removed a tiny drive card, about the size of his fingernail. He slid it across the desk.

  Husher reached out to pick it up. “The signal?”

  “Try not to lose it.”

  Husher slipped it in his pocket. “I’ll do my best.”

  Chapter 3

  Planet Zakros

  Undisclosed IU research facility

  After passing through more than a dozen security checkpoints with minimal fuss, thanks to Admiral Iver’s efforts, Husher found himself in a small observation tower. Beyond the massive floor-to-ceiling glass windows was the largest construction operation he’d ever set eyes on.

  He’d seen the shipyards where spacecraft like his own Relentless were built—and the destroyer was small compared to some of the giants that were fabricated nowadays. His old command, the capital ship Vesta, came to mind.

  Even so, whatever was being built here was going to make those ships look like toys. He watched sparks fly as a dozen men in safety harnesses grappled with a huge metallic pylon that they were easing into position like a giant Lincoln log. It was at least ten stories tall.

  “The best IU money can buy,” said a voice from behind him.

  Husher turned to see his old Ixan friend, Ochrim, approaching. He looked better than the last time Husher had seen him. Maybe getting away from the Vesta had done him some good. It had probably done all of them good. There were ghosts wandering those corridors now.

  For a moment, it looked as though his old friend might hug him. But the Ixan wasn’t given to such displays of emotion, and as quickly as the moment arrived, it passed.

  Instead, Ochrim reached out to shake Husher’s hand. It was cordial, but there was the warmth of a long, complicated friendship in it. They’d seen the worst of each other and come out the other side. Perhaps hugs would never be appropriate between the two of them.

  “I thought the last time we spoke, I was clear about this.” Husher waved behind him, toward the massive construction project. “Then I come here and see this…this monstrosity under construction.”

  Ochrim nodded. “You didn’t have the authority to give me orders then, and you don’t now.” There was a little gleam in his eye that told Husher that he was enjoying this.

  “I see.”

  “The IU is determined to understand the technology that was used to launch the AIs into the multiverse, not to mention into our own universe’s past. The power to alter the history of universes is a powerful incentive.”

  “And that is exactly the knowledge that led to a conflict that almost destroyed our universe and led to the total collapse of another.”

  “Dark tech played its part, but I take your point, Captain.”

  Husher waited. “And?”

  “And I’m revisiting some theories that I first explored while still aboard the Vesta.”

  Husher frowned. “You said all those theories led to dead ends.”

  The Ixan raised his eyebrows. “Did I? Perhaps I was mistaken.”

  Husher felt the tension in his shoulders release as the realization dawned on him. Ochrim was leading the IU down the garden path. He already knew that this line of research would lead to a dead end. He was taking all of the IU’s money and resources, and he was wasting them.

  Husher shook his head and turned back to the massive construction project. “My God. How far along are they?”

  “Ten percent.”

  Husher gawked. “This is ten percent? Is the planet even big enough?”

  He was being sarcastic, but Ochrim took his comment at face value. “It may require some slight gravitational adjustments at the final stage.”

  The scale was staggering. And since the IU had entrusted Ochrim to lead the project, this failure-in-waiting could take decades or more to complete. The IU might never understand the technology required to alter another universe’s past.

  “But I’m guessing you didn’t come to get an update on our little project,” Ochrim continued.

  Husher smiled. Ochrim was as direct as ever. “No.” He pulled the tiny drive card out and handed it over. “I’d like you to take a look at this.”

  Ochrim turned the data card over in his hand. “What is it?”

  “An alien signal from one of the other universes. It seems like a distress signal of some kind, but so far nobody has been able to figure out what it says.”

  The Ixan’s mouth twitched. “I do like a puzzle. But I am very busy here.” Again, Husher could see the twinkle in his eye.

  “Yes, overseeing a massive waste of money and resources is surely time consuming.” Husher matched his voice to his old friend’s calm tone.

  Ochrim pursed his lips, already looking intrigued as he continued to flip the data card between his fingers, end over end. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “That’s all I ask.”

  Chapter 4

  Planet Enilia

  Landing Zone Lima Echo Charlie

  A huge claw swung toward the head of Jake Price’s mech. He jerked backwards—too late. Only the poor aim of the genetically modified Ixan spared him from taking critical damage from the razor-sharp claw.

  Jake extended his retractable bayonet and slashed down hard on the Ixan’s shoulder. The razor edge clipped along the scaled skin, but did little damage.

  It did buy him enough time to engage the broadsword his mech held in its other hand. The blade swung upward, catching the Ixan in the middle of its armored chest and digging in. He jerked up, his sword ripping through the head of the beast. With that, he lifted his leg and kicked forward, shoving the alien backward as the sword tore free.

  The Ixan’s dead weight tumbled from the fortified hilltop landing zone, its limbs twitching as it flopped down the steep incline.

  Jake risked a look down and could see several dozen more Ixa cr
awling their way up to his position.

  His HUD screamed at him, and he pulled back just as a pair of kinetic slugs smashed into the lip of the wall. His own mech’s shoulder-mounted rocket launcher responded instantly, painting a target in his mind’s eye that he fired at.

  Like the alien mech he’d once controlled, the MIMAS mech he now piloted was controlled by a technology called lucid. Lucid gave structure to his dreams, making them incredibly immersive simulations that allowed him to become one with the hulking metal giant.

  Inside the dream, Jake rose to his full height and watched as the distant position of the slug-thrower exploded with his rocket’s impact. He jumped back off the reinforced wall that ran all around the landing platform, realizing he shouldn’t have been there to begin with. He shouldn’t have engaged in hand-to-hand combat with any of the Ixa, but he’d been distracted, and had missed the creature sneaking up from just below his position.

  “You with us or what?” Maura Odell snapped into his earpiece. She was in a mech a hundred yards farther along the wall. The rest of Oneiri Team, the eight elite mech pilots that Jake commanded, were similarly spaced out.

  “I’m still standing, aren’t I?” Jake watched as another group of Ixa made a sudden dash at the hilltop position where Maura was standing.

  Before she could light them up, a line of tracer fire told Jake that another mech pilot was firing autocannons from farther down the line. He glanced over to see Ash Sweeney’s sleek MIMAS as it slid along the edge of the barrier, as smooth as the first time he’d seen her in a mech. She was one of Jake’s oldest friends, and one of the few remaining members of the original Oneiri Team.

  Ash lazily cut down the oncoming wave of enemies, before Maura needed to lift a finger.

  “I had that,” Maura said.

  “I know,” Ash replied.

  The hilltop position was easily defended. At least, it should have been. Jake looked down at the scratches along his armor where the Ixan’s claws had raked.

  Focus, idiot!

  The lucid tech had come a long way, but he still felt weak in his standard mech, compared to the alien mech he’d once piloted. Then again, he didn’t feel like he was in danger of being mentally overpowered by this mech, and then digested by it. That had been a real concern in his previous mech. So, not worrying about that was a plus.