“You know what bothers me a little?” said Steve. “The fact that the portal is rotating.”
“If they are connected rigidly to each other, there is nothing surprising in that. After all, its other side comes out in some other star system, which could have angular momentum relative to the Solar System. If in one such system it is at rest, it must rotate in the other.”
Steve thought about it carefully.
“Then the axis of rotation must coincide with the direction towards the other end,” he said eventually.
“Sounds logical.”
“Let’s see where it’s pointing.”
Clive turned back to the console again. On the screen there appeared an image of the Milky Way, viewed from above and to the side.
Steve knew the position of the Solar System in it by heart. He found it with a quick look. A few seconds later, a winking yellow spot appeared at that point.
“The pulsating marker is our Sun,” Clive told Steve.
Steve rolled his eyes heavenwards. Clive thought that without his prompting, no-one was capable of finding his own star himself! Too clever by half!
A white arrow extended out from the yellow spot.
“The straight white line is the direction of the axis of rotation of the portal,” added Clive.
The white line extended in the plane of the galaxy, barely touching its centre, towards the other side of the disc.
“Damn, that sector is covered in dust,” said Steve disappointedly.
“Perhaps deliberately, to prevent us finding out where the tunnel ends?”
“Looks like it.”
“All right, we must send the data to Shelby. They can feel out that sector, maybe they will be able to see where the tunnel leads in the gravity band,” said Clive.
“Go get some sleep, I’ll check the calculations and prepare a report.”
“OK. If anything happens, wake me up,” said Clive, rising with difficulty from his chair.
“Yes, of course, of course. Go and sleep.”
The first thing Steve did when he was left on his own in the compartment was to brew himself some green tea. He didn’t like drinking coffee while he was working, as the others did. It lay too heavily on the stomach. Tea was another matter. It had a calming effect, both on the body and on the spirit.
A few hours later, the latest report was ready. Steve had a last-minute look through the whole document. He didn’t appear to have forgotten anything, it could be sent.
“Send,” he commanded.
The document on the screen closed and disappeared. He reckoned he could take a break now. He gestured to switch off the desktop displays, then got up and turned to the central one to do the same. Up to now, it had been visualising information from the gravity scanners on the anomaly. But now the axis of rotation of the tunnel was pointing not to the other side of the galaxy, but somewhere upward. Steve caught his breath.
“When did the portal change its axis of rotation?” he asked the computer.
“Twenty minutes and thirty-four seconds ago,” the computer replied calmly.
“Why didn’t you warn me before?”
“I had not received any instruction to do so, sir.”
Steve waved at it in disgust. Electronic idiot...
“Compare with scanning data from the very beginning of the expedition. Has it done this before?”
“No, sir.”
“Extend the axis of rotation to the edge of our galaxy. Look only at the star systems of the Milky Way. Does it intersect any planetary systems where the planar inclination of the orbits coincides with the angle of rotation?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Which star is it?”
“83 Leonis.”
With a shiver, Steve ordered the computer to create a new report.
“Report for Shelby. Twenty minutes ago, the portal changed configuration. Possible activation with view to transfer. Input point believed to be in star system 83 Leonis. Message ends.”
9
Lost in thought, Steve and Clive looked at the visualisation of the portal in silence. Kimble, in his chair as always, was reading a book, and only glanced at the two of them when they were talking about something he understood.
The latest report from Shelby had come in today. In it, he had included an actualised version of the theory describing the portal. Steve and Clive were to go into the physico-mathematical model and check it as far as they could experimentally, using the scientific apparatus on board the ship.
It was not an easy job. The original research work was really more art than science. The study of a new hitherto unknown phenomenon is always like an attempt to open the door of a massive safe with bare hands. Every millimetre of its surface has to be carefully studied to find even a microscopic clue. At first it is not always known which way the door with the new knowledge behind it opens. And sometimes it isn’t even known where the door is.
Steve got up from his seat and stretched himself. His muscles were beginning to ache from hours of sitting still, and it was as if someone had filled his brain with a thick grease that was slowing down his thought processes.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked Clive as he set off for the drinks machine.
“No thanks.”
Steve went up to the machine, poured himself some sparkling water and drank it slowly. The cold feeling ran down his throat, dissipating his sleepiness to some extent.
“Let’s take model number two as a basis,” proposed Steve, leaning on the wall. “The one in which the portals are bonded by two points in space-time, rather than serving as a way out into hyperspace through which travel time can be shortened. Then we can theoretically direct a telescope onto the portal and look into that part of space, as if we had put a telescope at the location of the other portal.”
“That doesn’t happen. It does not appear in the electromagnetic spectrum, unless you count the light gravity ripple which slightly diverts the light beam.”
“That’s because the portal is closed. It hasn’t been activated yet. But at the moment when ships pass through it we shall see exactly what I said: the star pattern of that sector of space from which the ships come. Just imagine, if their central star or planet comes within the field of vision of our telescope, it will be the first time we have been able to study another system from such a short distance.”
Clive considered this.
“Not a bad idea. We can try. Only it will have to be placed as close as possible to the portal so that its angle of vision on the other side is as great as it can be.”
“And we’ll have to mount another telescope on the rear of the portal.”
“That’s also true.”
Suddenly the compartment was filled with a soft signal. The computer always produced this sound when it wanted to attract attention, and Steve and Clive simultaneously turned their heads towards the screens. The background of one of the graphics they were displaying, of which there were well over a hundred, was winking red. Steve pushed himself off from the wall and went right up to the monitors. Even on the miniature image, it was apparent that its graph was creeping upwards.
“OK, magnify it,” he asked Clive, who was sitting at the console.
In the magnified view, it could be seen that the graph depicted the measurement results of the alpha radiation around the portal.
“What new trick is this?” muttered Clive.
“What processes in nature generate alpha radiation?” asked Steve, thinking aloud.
“Well, the Sun, for instance... And then there’s...”
“No, that’s it. The Sun.”
“So what?”
“So we are detecting the solar wind of 83 Leonis! The portal is transporting the wind of their central stars to our Solar System! It’s opened!”
The flow of charged particles was increasing all the time. Steve looked at the graph of its intensity, which was slowly climbing. Suddenly, the straight line of the graph curved sharply and shot up. The flow inte
nsity had begun growing exponentially. The graph on the display seemed to have frozen, and only the scale was changing its values, measuring in ever larger units.
Three points suddenly flared up and went out inside the triangle with which the computer had outlined the position of the portal against the star-studded sky. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve noticed that the auxiliary displays were also filling with columns of figures. The sensors positioned around the portals were beginning to send a firework display of readings.
“It looks as if there are three of them this time,” remarked Kimble, who up to now had been silently observing what was going on.
Clive, monitoring the sensor readings, also livened up.
“I confirm the flight of three objects through the portal, heading towards the centre of the Solar System. All three are flying in formation on parallel trajectories. Speed constant.”
All at once he shuddered and jumped up in his seat.
“One of them scanned us with a laser beam... The formation is still moving without changing its flight parameters.”
Steve, without showing it, sighed inwardly with relief. Now the aliens know that we have discovered their portal and know what it’s for. The drones around it are positioned so that they will not interfere with the flight of the ships, and the expedition ship itself is a bit further off. Apparently, in spite of the way our last meeting ended, they must have realised that the strike against them was unintentional and therefore don’t see us as a threat. That’s good. Unless, of course, they’ve come to settle accounts with our Solar System.
“Wait.” Clive began working very fast on the console. “In my opinion, it wasn’t a scan, it was some sort of message,” he said eventually.
“Feed the signal into the AI and let it translate it,” proposed Steve.
“Damn, where’s that module?” Clive knew what to do without being told, and was feverishly looking for the necessary module of the AI.
“Here it is. It’s ready.”
DO NOT PURSUE, DO NOT TRACK WITH TARGETING SYSTEMS.
ANY HOSTILE ACTION WILL LEAD TO INSTANT DESTRUCTION.
Steve slowly lowered himself into his seat.
“Inform Shelby,” he said.
10
At the SSS Academy’s annual graduation ceremony, delayed this year due to the recent emergency, MacQueen had been given the role of speaker and of presenting awards to the particularly outstanding cadets of the past year. He was the only commander of such high rank among those present, and naturally attracted the attention of the cadets because of the position he held.
Although official speeches delivered by high-ranking officials and officers are, generally speaking, made up of vague generalities and clichés (as their position obliges them to be), MacQueen did not consider his presence an empty formality. The cadets, many of whom were in their first year, were yesterday’s school pupils. Today they were being addressed by the Commander-in-Chief of the Space Fleet, who many of them had seen on television or read about in the papers. Such events make an impression, make them understand the importance of their future work, are frequently recalled, and have an influence on the personality.
MacQueen himself was no exception. In his second year at the SSS Academy, they were addressed by the Commander of the First Fleet, who left an indelible impression on the future general, although he was two or three ranks below that held by MacQueen today. MacQueen still remembered it as if it were yesterday, how one sensed his iron will, and his crushing handshake which made the joints crackle.
The future Commander-in-Chief looked at the exalted guest with pounding heart. Before him stood a space wolf, the massive leader of a mighty pack, who had earned his position through his military talent and unbending character. MacQueen had received from him a medal for exceptional success. Although this was the least important medal of his career, like a first love, it meant more to him than all those which followed.
After the speech, the cadets due for awards marched onto the stage, and MacQueen personally handed them their certificates and pinned their medals on them. On the way to the Academy, during the flight, he looked through the dossier of each of those due for awards, so that he could say something personal to them, not just the standard empty phrases. Yes, the general felt himself personally responsible for the future of the space fleet, and took it extremely seriously.
As he was shaking the hand of one of the cadets, MacQueen noticed out of the corner of his eye that there was a sudden animation among his bodyguards. Having combat experience, he felt such small changes in a situation, unnoticeable to the untrained eye, with the back of his neck. He looked at the guard commander, who took a step towards him.
“Sir,” he whispered in the general’s ear, “a report has come in that several hours ago, three alien ships passed through the portal heading towards the Sun. A general alarm has been declared for all branches of the armed forces. You must leave immediately for the command bunker.”
MacQueen nodded.
“Forty-five seconds, then we’ll go.”
“Yes, sir.”
The guard commander took one step back to his previous position and said something into his microphone. Behind the barrier, on the lawn, the soldiers of his guard swarmed out of the parked escort ship and spread out, taking up a defensive formation and holding their pulse weapons, although with muzzles lowered. This ship and MacQueen’s own, standing a little further off, had already vented their engines in preparation for an emergency lift-off.
There was one cadet left. MacQueen unhurriedly stepped up to him and extended his hand for a handshake. After congratulating him, and apparently unaware of his guards’ activities, he took the medal off the cushion, and, piercing the cadet’s tunic with its pin, asked softly:
“How’s the leg?”
The cadet’s eyes widened in surprise. Two days previously, to mark the beginning of the academic year, he, with others of his class, had crawled onto the barrack-block roof, far from the eyes of their commanders, for a small celebration of their reunion after the annual summer leave. But they were noticed, and had to withdraw quickly. In running from roof to roof, he sprained his ankle, so was caught by the military police. There were no serious disciplinary consequences, but a note had been made in his file.
Although MacQueen did not welcome indiscipline in the Service, this case was a grey area. A real commander must on the one hand strictly observe regulations, but on the other have a certain wildness in him, so that he can achieve the impossible in combat contrary to all logic. Those who succeed in maintaining the fine balance between these two apparently mutually exclusive character traits have the potential to become great military leaders.
“It’s almost healed now, sir,” replied the cadet smartly, after a moment’s confusion.
MacQueen finished pinning on the medal, smiled and shook his hand.
“I wish you further successes, young man,” he said, in a loud voice this time.
“Thank you, sir!”
The forty-five seconds were up. The general nodded farewell to the audience and calmly stepped down from the stage.
While MacQueen was fastening his seat belt on board his spacecraft, the guard commander took from his pocket a device for generating quantum random numbers, selected ‘8’ on the display, and pressed the button. The ‘8’ was replaced on the screen by a ‘3’. This time the space fleet command post was in Bunker No. 3.
“Destination Bunker No. 3,” confirmed the pilot who was observing them through a camera, and almost at the same moment, the ship soared into the sky.
Paying no attention to the overloads or the vibration, MacQueen got out his tablet, to which all the space fleet’s tactical and intelligence information was downloaded in real time.
“The expedition ship studying the gravity anomaly has reported the appearance of three ships of the alien civilisation. They passed through the portal at a speed of 90 km/sec. They are in triangular formation, and are continuing to move towards the cent
re of the system at unchanged speed.”
The report included a map of the Solar System, on which the formation’s flight trajectory was clearly shown. It intersected the orbit of Saturn, and was reminiscent of the flight trajectory of the first alien visitor. But this time, they were apparently not intending to stay in the orbits of the gas giants. If the vector remained unchanged, their destination appeared to be Earth itself.
The general put his tablet aside.
By this time, MacQueen’s ship and its escort were already in near-Earth space, where the atmosphere was so rarefied that there was virtually no air resistance. Having accelerated to a tremendous speed, they left behind in rapidly changing succession the fields of the East Coast, the forests and lakes of Canada, the dreary landscape of Greenland and the snowfields of the North Pole. When the white lifeless desert was replaced by the leaden waters of the Arctic Ocean, the ships re-entered the atmosphere, and losing altitude in a shallow trajectory, set course for Norway.
In the icy waters of the Norwegian coast, illuminated by the dim light of the Sun sitting low in the sky, a bright star, falling from the heavens, was reflected. A minute later, the silence, apart from the sound of the cool wind and the splash of water, was broken by the deafening roar of the sound wave created by the military ships flying at Mach 5.
They slowed down as they continued to descend to just above sea level, then changed to horizontal flight. Almost touching the ocean, they rushed on, creating splashes which kept hitting the armoured windows.
Having reached the mainland, the two ships disappeared into one of the firths. Following the watercourse, and avoiding the cliffs majestically rising from both sides of the fjord, they weaved about, banking sharply in the turns. Suddenly the first one pointed its nose upwards, and describing a huge dead loop, hovered over a quite unremarkable cliff. The second one followed it, taking up a defensive position a little way off.
At one point in the cliff, a barely noticeable landing site had been cut out, running deep into the mountains. There, under a canopy of overhanging rock and concealed from the prying eyes of outsiders, was the start of a tunnel going many kilometres into the mountains.
Beyond the Event Horizon Page 7
