Sullivan Saga 1: Sullivan's War

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Sullivan Saga 1: Sullivan's War Page 13

by Michael Rose


  As Harvey watched, Sullivan stood, crossed the room and opened the door to the bedroom. Lying on the bed was Ross.

  Sullivan returned to the table. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t want to do it.”

  Harvey tried his restraints again. He decided then and there that he was going to kill Sullivan. He’d given up bounties before for the satisfaction of killing people like him. Sullivan stepped behind Harvey and checked the restraints. “I’m going to take your ship. It’s a lot faster than that freighter, and I can’t have you catching up with me.”

  “How am I supposed to get free once you leave?”

  Sullivan lifted a bag from the floor and placed it on the table. He opened it and removed a syringe. “I learned this trick on Abilene. Once you’re unconscious, I’ll untie you and leave you lying on the floor. I’ll be gone by the time you come to, so don’t waste your energy trying to find me.”

  Harvey tried to pull away as Sullivan brought the syringe close to his neck.

  “You have my word,” said Sullivan, “that I won’t harm you.”

  “And you have my word,” said Harvey, “that I’ll find you eventually.”

  “And you probably will. You’re very good at what you do. But here’s another promise: Edaline will be free of its oppressors. The Assembly can either get on the right side of history or the wrong side. You give them that message, Mr. Harvey.”

  Sullivan put his hand on Harvey’s head and held it still. He pulled the cap off the syringe with his teeth and plunged the needle into Harvey’s jugular.

  “I really am sorry about Ross,” he said as Harvey’s brain began to cloud. “He left me no choice.”

  Harvey felt his bonds being untied. He was still awake but unable to move as Sullivan laid him gently on the floor. He heard footsteps, the closing of a door, and then all was dark and silent once again.

  4

  FRANK ALLEN WENT to Silvanus. He knew he’d have hell to pay for it, but he just couldn’t bring himself to go back to Earth. Everything he’d lived for was gone. Liz Wagner was dead, his commitment to the Bureau was waning and his belief in the Stellar Assembly was shattered. That organization which had once shined so brightly and offered such high hopes for the future of humanity had proven itself to be vulnerable—just like every other institution in human history—to the weaknesses of humanity itself.

  So Frank Allen didn’t go back to Earth. Jeff Ives would accompany the bodies of Liz Wagner and John Takemitsu back home. He would file the report at the Bureau’s office in New York.

  “What do I tell them about you?” Ives had asked.

  “Tell them I’m taking my vacation.”

  And Silvanus was a great place for a vacation, if that had been Allen’s actual intent. It was one of the founding members of the Stellar Assembly. As such, it—like Earth—was among the most prosperous of the inhabited planets. It had long ago passed through its rough colonial phase, had long ago chosen to be an open, progressive society. Silvanus was considered by many to be the perfect planet. Outside of the cities, much of the planet was covered by lush jungles and forests. The native wildlife was docile, the oceans were free of any large predators and the planet’s tectonic plates were reasonably stable.

  The cities themselves were as wondrous as the planet’s natural treasures. Rows of gleaming spires in the city center gave way to large but modestly designed homes in the outskirts. In the mountains, skiing and hiking were popular. Many of the coastal cities boasted kilometers of uninterrupted white sand beaches.

  It was in one of these coastal cities that Frank Allen arrived after traveling nearly six months on a freighter from Abilene. He’d decided that no matter what happened, he would only return to Abilene for one reason and one reason only: to kill Orion Zednik. Nothing else would be able to draw him back to that miserable place.

  Allen supposed that what he did for the first few days after arriving on Silvanus could be considered a vacation. He’d checked into a beachside hotel and had spent his days lying on the sand, enjoying the feel of the cool ocean breeze. When he’d been there three days, his earpiece began to chirp. He was lying on his hotel room bed in the early afternoon, trying to fall asleep. He reached over to his tablet and tapped the screen to power it up. He didn’t know anyone on Silvanus.

  The tablet showed the source of the call: Stellar Assembly Bureau of Investigation, Silvanus. Allen cursed and put the earpiece in, tapping the button on the side as he did so.

  “Agent Frank Allen here.”

  “Agent Allen? This is Director Berg of the Silvanus SABI.”

  “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”

  “Maybe I should ask you that question. Being a Bureau agent, your name popped up on our watch lists when you arrived. When you didn’t check in with us after a few days, we began to wonder what you were up to. If you’re here on Bureau business, you should have checked in.”

  “I know that, sir. I’m not here on official Bureau business.”

  “Last update we got on you, you were engaged in an operation on Abilene.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Since you’re here, I have to assume that that operation has ended. I’ll need you to come down to the office and give your report.”

  “Actually, sir, my colleague Jefferson Ives should be back on Earth by now. He’ll have checked in there.”

  “All the same, come down tomorrow and give me your report. For procedural reasons.”

  Allen bit his lip. “All right, sir. What time?”

  “Fourteen hundred AST.”

  Allen glanced at his tablet. Fourteen hundred Assembly Standard Time would put the meeting at about eleven, Silvanus time. It wouldn’t conflict with the other meeting he had scheduled later in the day. “Yes, sir, I can do that.”

  “Good,” said Director Berg. “I’ll see you then.”

  Allen ended the call and took out his earpiece. He tossed it onto the bed and took up his tablet. He engaged the voice recorder and began dictating his report, watching as his words appeared on the screen of the device.

  FRANK ALLEN LOOKED around the room into which he had been shown. The moment he’d entered the penthouse atop one of the city’s tallest buildings, he’d known he was in the presence of magnificent wealth. He heard the door behind him open.

  “Agent Allen?”

  Allen turned toward the voice. A man in his sixties but with the stride of someone much younger stepped toward him. “Mr. Alexander,” said Allen, taking the offered hand. “It’s an honor, sir.”

  Alexander pursed his lips and looked Allen over. “Do you bring news of my daughter?”

  Allen broke Alexander’s gaze. “Of a sort, sir.”

  “Then please, sit down.”

  Allen took a seat, and Alexander sat opposite. The older man tapped a button on the armrest of his chair, and a moment later, a servant brought in a tray bearing glasses and a decanter. Allen watched as the servant poured whiskey into the two glasses then departed without a word.

  Alexander leaned forward, took up the glasses and handed one to Allen. He watched as Allen took a sip of the whiskey and nodded his approval. “My daughter, Agent Allen?”

  “Yes, sir. Forgive me, but it’s been a trying past year for me. Some of the things I have to tell you will be difficult. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. Please take your time.”

  “I have to go back about a year and a half. You’ve no doubt heard of the killings of Assemblymen Palmer and Howard by now?”

  “Of course.”

  “I was assigned to that case.”

  “And this has to do with my daughter?”

  “In a way, yes.”

  “Then please, go on.”

  Allen did. For the next hour he summarized the events of the past year and a half: his investigation of Sullivan, his encounters on Abilene with Orion Zednik, the deaths of John Takemitsu and Liz Wagner. At the end of Allen’s account, Benjamin Alexander sat in silence, absorbing the information.
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br />   Allen reached for the decanter and poured himself another drink. He took a sip, set the glass back down and cleared his throat. “Mr. Alexander?”

  Alexander looked up at him. “Yes?”

  “There’s one more thing I have to tell you. Earlier today, I was called in to see the director of the Bureau’s Silvanus office. He wants me to pursue Sullivan again. But I also want to let you know that I’m resigning from the Bureau. I’ll be going to Damaris but not to look for Sullivan. I’m going after Zednik.”

  “Damaris?”

  “Yes. That’s where Sullivan thought Zednik might be headed.”

  “Then he was right. Two days ago, one of my men left for Damaris with a million credits. I’d just received a message from there the day before that this Orion Zednik that you spoke of is there and, if he is to be believed, still has Kate.”

  “Well, if Zednik and Kate are there, Sullivan won’t be far behind.”

  Alexander nodded. “Agent Allen, this puts me in a difficult position. Do you believe Sullivan will try to rescue Kate?”

  “I know he will.”

  “If Zednik receives my ransom, do you think he would keep his word and release her?”

  Allen knitted his brow. “He fancies himself a gentleman. I believe he’ll keep his word.”

  “Then my man and my money must reach him before Sullivan does. If Sullivan attempts to rescue her—and fails—Zednik will run again and take Kate with him.”

  “But there’s no way of knowing how close Sullivan is. He could be there already; your man might be too late.”

  “But if he isn’t, I’ll need you there to ensure that my money gets to Zednik. Once he frees Kate then you—and Sullivan—may carry out your plans for him.”

  “Your man has a two-day head start?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then it doesn’t matter. I can’t get there before him. Even if I could, there’s no guarantee I could find Sullivan and stop him from trying to rescue Kate.”

  “But if you were there, there’d be a chance.”

  “I suppose.”

  Alexander crossed his legs and rubbed his chin. “I’m a man with a great deal of wealth, Agent Allen. The past fifteen years, I’ve been spending that wealth on research. Do you fully understand how hyperspace travel works?”

  “Fully? No, of course not. I know that the energy field created by a ship allows it to pass into hyperspace.”

  “Do you know where hyperspace is? What hyperspace is?”

  “It’s space outside of space. Space where time passes more quickly than it does in our own universe.”

  “Yes, that is a simplified—but generally accurate—understanding. There have been experiments over the past few centuries to pass objects into deeper levels of hyperspace, but the energy requirements to do so have made it impractical for commercial purposes. My scientists have been working on reducing the energy requirements to access one of these deeper levels, a space in which time travels even faster than it does in standard hyperspace. The journey to Damaris normally takes almost two and a half months. In a ship which has passed into what my scientists call hyper-hyperspace—a clumsy term, but it’s stuck—it will only take a little over four days.”

  Allen shook his head. “How is this hyper-hyperspace different? Why does time pass that much more quickly in it?”

  “About two hundred years ago, around the time the Stellar Assembly was formed, a scientist named Peter Keiser proposed an interesting theory. Many believe Dr. Kaiser’s theory is correct, but unfortunately, there is no way to safely confirm it.”

  Allen searched his memory. “I think I remember reading about him once. Didn’t he believe that hyperspace is the space between two parallel universes?”

  “Exactly. A buffer, if you will. Currently, ships traveling in hyperspace just skim the surface of our universe. For that reason, they are still partially bound by the physical laws of our universe, specifically the relationship between space and time. The deeper into hyperspace we travel, the weaker that connection becomes. There is a point, however, when the physical laws of the next universe take over. But nearest the midway point, the sweet spot, if you will, is where the physical attachment to either universe is weakest and allows a ship to make the journey between Silvanus and Damaris in just four days.”

  Allen shook his head. “This is incredible. If this is true, why haven’t you rolled this technology out? It would make you a fortune!”

  Alexander leaned back in his chair. “Unlike hyperspace, hyper-hyperspace is not ‘safe.’ There are… entities… out there.”

  Allen picked up his glass and took another drink. “Entities?”

  “Self-aware life-forms of some sort. I’m not the first to send a ship deeper into hyperspace, Agent Allen, but it hasn’t been easy to pick up where those others have left off. Dr. Keiser himself disappeared after piloting a ship into hyper-hyperspace. It seems that the deeper ones goes into hyperspace, the more powerful these entities become. Do you want to hear a crazy idea?”

  “Crazier that what you’ve already told me?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Allen grinned. “Sure.”

  “I believe that these entities are what were once referred to as angels, demons, ghosts, fairies, what have you. We can, using technology, cross over into their realm and they, using who-knows-what, can occasionally cross over into ours. I’m sure you’ve heard about the encounters some pilots traveling in hyperspace claim to have had.”

  “Of course. We used to tell those stories to each other as kids.”

  “Do you think that of the hundreds of stories about these encounters, all of them can be attributed simply to pilots going ‘space happy’?”

  Allen swirled the whiskey in his glass. “I suppose not. And your scientists… they’ve succeeded in reducing the energy requirements for traveling deeper into hyperspace?”

  Alexander smiled. “They have. But for the reason I’ve told you, this technology will not be made publicly available by me. If others develop this technology independently—and I have no doubt that someone eventually will—they can have the responsibility of exposing our universe to this potential threat. But not I.”

  Allen broke eye contact with Alexander and studied the vase on the table next to his chair. Alexander let him have his moment of reflection before continuing. “The program has been put on hiatus ever since one of my own pilots encountered one of these entities. Fortunately, that particular encounter did not end unhappily. However, I still have the ships equipped with the necessary technology in my hangars. If you would be willing to take the risk for my daughter, you would be handsomely compensated.”

  Allen took a deep breath. If he could get to Damaris in four days, he would have plenty of time to find Zednik before Alexander’s man arrived with the money. He could keep tabs on Zednik, wait for the money to be handed over and Kate released and then take Zednik down.

  “All right, Mr. Alexander,” he said after a moment. “I’ll do it. But no compensation is necessary. All I ask for is some money to pay my operational expenses.”

  Alexander stood and Allen followed suit. “Good,” said Alexander, offering his hand. “And if you do quit the Bureau, I’ll always have a place for you on my security team.”

  “I might take you up on that, sir,” said Allen, shaking hands.

  “I’ll have one of the ships readied. Be prepared to depart tomorrow morning.”

  Allen said a final goodbye and returned to his hotel room to pack and compose his letter of resignation. He planned on sending it to the Bureau just before Alexander’s experimental ship departed. He didn’t want to be called back in to Director Berg’s office to answer any more questions.

  He took his bag from the closet and began folding his clothes into it. He hoped he would be able to take actions to keep Kate safe. But he wasn’t doing this for her or her father. He wasn’t even doing it for Sullivan. Allen was going to get Zednik for Liz Wagner; for Liz and for himself.

  5


  IT HAD BEEN almost a full day. The ship appeared standard in every way, and hyper-hyperspace seemed no different than hyperspace for its black void, its nothingness. Alexander’s pilot was a man named Dale Hammond. Allen, after taking a nap, got up from his bunk and went forward to the cockpit.

  “Everything going all right, Hammond?”

  “No problems so far. Nice thing about hyper-hyperspace is there’s a lot less time for something to go wrong. But if it does, hoo-boy.”

  Allen raised an eyebrow. “Hoo-boy?”

  Hammond turned from the controls and gestured for Allen to take the seat beside him. “When a ship traveling through hyperspace loses power, do you know what happens?”

  “It drops out of hyperspace, right?”

  “Yes. Because it’s so close to the boundary of our universe, the ship falls back into normal space once the energy field collapses. Right now, we’re nearly at the halfway point between two universes. If we lose power here, if our energy field collapses, which universe do we drop into?”

  “Hopefully ours.”

  “Hopefully. Granted, we’re slightly closer to our universe than the other. If we were exactly between the two, there’s a theory that travel between any two points would be almost instantaneous.”

  “How?”

  “If neither universe has a hold on us, there’s nothing linking space and time. But if our energy field collapses here, there’s a hypothesis that the ‘pull’ of this other universe could be, for whatever reason, stronger than our own. It could reach out past the midway point and pull us in.”

  “But you don’t know that?”

  “No. I’m sorry to say that there’s a whole hell of a lot we don’t know about this, and Mr. Alexander didn’t want to take the risk of intentionally sending a ship into another universe.”

  Allen glanced around at the various controls, checking for suspiciously blinking lights. “So if we lose power, we could be stuck in a parallel universe?”

  “Right. But that’s if we drop out of hyper-hyperspace at all. There are some who think that neither universe has a strong enough hold on us this far out. We might just drift for eternity.”

 

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