Genesis

by Lawrence P White

  Grayson forwarded a final course change to his small fleet. He ordered shields at half power now that they could see the uncloaked Oort, and gunners were free to engage, but pilots could not vary trajectories under any circumstances, nor could they go to full shielding.

  They swept into the Oort fleet in perfect formation, 22 ships against 1,000. Lasers flashed nonstop within both fleets. Grayson’s fighters fielded four lasers to the Oort’s one, and the prime ships fielded 24 each, but the Oort had many, many more ships. Alliance fighters took hits, lots of hits, and it wasn’t long before Grayson’s own ship was in trouble. Every ship had to hold true to its course or the snowflake would fail, yet he could not activate the StarDrive until he reached the center of the Oort armada if he hoped to take out as many Oort as possible. He only had one chance to do it right.

  Grayson stared at his screen, willing the outer limits of the StarDrive effect, shaded red on his display, to engulf as much of the Oort fleet as it could. Once he pushed the execute button, five seconds would elapse before each ship automatically jumped.

  The Oort fully engulfed his small fleet. One ship flared into oblivion, followed seconds later by two more. Grayson held true. He had expected some losses—the weapon would still function with some losses—but he was not certain how many losses he could afford.

  He waited as long as he could. As he hit the execute button, another of his ships disappeared from the formation. Those five seconds between pushing the button and executing the jump were the longest five seconds of his life.

  He jumped. His screens blanked for the ten-minute duration of the jump in hyperspace, the shortest jump he could make. When he popped back into normal space, his ships began filling in on his screens. He had lost four ships, all of them holding friends of his. He had no idea if the effort had been successful.

  * * * * *

  In the Harbok command center, there was little to do except watch. Harbok commanders stared intently at screens as An’Atee ships engaged the first wave of Oort, and they were surprised. Pleasantly surprised. They had never observed such order during an engagement in space. Even Greg was pleased. He desperately wanted to talk with Admiral Landers who, to him, was using tactics that had failed during training, but he knew better than to challenge his commander in the midst of a battle. He held his tongue, knowing that Landers had considered all options and settled on what was, to him, the best plan.

  Only pieces of the battle were visible in the command center since they could not see the cloaked Oort ships, but even so, it was clear that both sides of the Oort formation had been attacked simultaneously. Alliance ships took out the Oort ships as efficiently as if they were executing a well-rehearsed business plan.

  When the whole Oort fleet uncloaked, the battle turned into the melee they had expected. Still, Alliance ships fought efficiently and effectively, withdrawing when necessary, only to reengage later. Clearly, Command and Control was effective, something the Harbok had never achieved.

  When Grayson uncloaked, all eyes turned to him. Over a half hour period, his 22 tiny ship symbols edged closer, then merged with the Oort fleet. Greg took the time to inform everyone present that for the weapon to work, Grayson’s ships were not only uncloaked, but they were without shields as well, or at best they might be operating with partial shielding.

  Even the Harbok held their breaths when the Oort uncloaked and changed their trajectory for the last time. Grayson’s fleet all but disappeared on the display as the Oort armada engulfed it. Harbok commanders were shaking their heads in dismay, knowing Grayson would be obliterated.

  Without warning, a great wash of light filled the area of the Oort fleet. When the screens refreshed, only a few Oort stragglers remained where there had once been a thousand ships. Hours later, Angie Tolland confirmed that the uncloaked stragglers were the only survivors.

  Harbok commanders in the command center did not believe her. As far as they were concerned, the Oort were still there, just cloaked. Though the first wave of Oort was nearing defeat, they considered the second wave intact and inbound to Haldor.

  King Tas’val did believe Tolland. He took Greg and Kannick aside. “Ollie left me a few bottles of wine from Earth. Would you care to join me?”

  “Not yet,” Greg answered. “We’ll be getting damage assessments soon. I need to hear how many we lost.”

  “Our jobs are done. Please join me. Your admirals have their hands full right now and don’t need you bothering them. We’ve all lost friends this day, but the An’Atee performed just as you said they would. If your Admiral Grayson did anywhere near as well as the rest of your men, he saved Haldor. It’s time to talk.”

  “It will be time to talk when we know for certain,” Greg answered. “I will wait for my admirals to report. I don’t really have time for you Harbok at the moment.” Then he winced and backpedaled. “Oh, sorry, Tas’val. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “I understand. You’re new to this.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry. In time, you will harden yourself.”

  “No, I won’t,” Greg answered with a determined thrust to his chin. “This is not my first battle, you know. I’ve never hardened myself to it.”

  “We have a grieving process for these things,” Tas’val said. “You might not like it, but I do. We hold a party after each major battle, a party at which we celebrate the lives of those we lost. I would ask your attendance.”

  “I don’t think your men are ready for the An’Atee at such an intimate celebration.”

  “You’re wrong. The An’Atee proved themselves today. It’s unexpected, it will take us a while to get used to it, but the An’Atee saved Haldor from certain loss.”

  “We don’t know that yet.”

  “My men don’t, and I won’t let them rest until we know for certain, but you and I know it. What you and Admiral Grayson did today will never be forgotten.”

  “Let me remind you that he’s from Earth.”

  Tas’val’s lips thinned. “He must be a quick learner. We’ve talked about this Alliance of yours. If I join, do I get the secret of your new weapon?”

  “Yes, but we’re not joining until I know you and your men better.”

  “Hmm. Are you sure you don’t want to help me open that bottle of red?”

  * * * * *

  An’Atee and Harbok ships raced for Haldor as soon as they defeated the first wave, but they were not needed. During the next few weeks, the reserves took care of the few Oort stragglers the snowflake had missed, reinforcing the Harbok’s experience of the Oort never retreating. Not a single Oort ship reached Haldor.

  * * * * *

  Tas’val declared the battle over six weeks later when the remains of Grayson’s fleet arrived in orbit. None of Grayson’s ships were capable of landing on the planet, all had been severely damaged, but there was no lack of volunteers to bring the crews down. Greg and Kannick joined Angie aboard her prime ship for the ride up to Lander’s baseship. His fighters shuttled Grayson and his senior commanders to safer quarters aboard the baseship, then he took the damaged fighters aboard.

  Grayson’s prime ship crews were still dealing with damage control and were not willing to abandon ship. Both prime ships headed back to Ariall for major repairs.

  Angie shrieked when she saw Grayson. Putting decorum aside, she raced across the hangar and jumped up to hug him, her legs wrapped around his waist. All eyes fell on them as silence descended among the formal reception members, then the clapping began, and well-wishers surrounded the two. Greg looked to Kannick in surprise, but Kannick just raised his eyebrows and shrugged. There had never been any outward signs of affection between the two, but Grayson’s men and women showed their approval with smiles. Soon, hugs were going around everywhere. The formal reception never happened. It wasn’t needed.

  The area around Harbok headquarters quickly took on the aspect of a parking lot. An’Atee and Harbok ships littered the surrounding terrain in the largest accumulati
on of ships any had ever seen in one place. Some crews were forced to walk miles through freezing temperatures. Prime ships quickly brought out air cars to ferry those with the longest walks.

  Angie’s prime ship landed in a reserved area directly in front of the main entrance to the Harbok base. Outside, thousands of Harbok warriors in ranks lined a long, gray carpet leading to the entrance. Grayson and Landers were the first to exit the prime ship and begin the long, bitterly cold walk toward Lor Tas’val who awaited them just outside the entrance to the building. Not a sound greeted them. The Harbok all stood at silent attention. Greg, Kannick, and Angie came next, followed by Lieutenants Shoemaker and Henderson, the two who had directed everyone into position before the battle.

  King Tas’val personally welcomed the leaders of the Alliance, then he turned and walked them into the hangar. A continuous stream of people continued out of the prime ship to join them inside.

  The central hangar had been cleared of ships, and Tas’val had set the thermostat high enough that the An’Atee would be comfortable. Tas’val’s senior officers were subdued, but the Harbok from the fighting ships, after they had come in from the cold, were not. They hugged and clapped the backs of An’Atee and the warriors from Earth as they traded stories about the battle they had fought together.

  Tas’val, standing beside Greg, studied the festivities with a furrowed brow, his eyes far away in thought. Greg sensed those thoughts and wondered. Was something significant happening here? The Harbok high command held itself aloof, but the Harbok who had shared in the battle did not. Many of them were alive this day because their forces had fought together, and that togetherness had satisfied the only requirement of the Harbok: they defeated the Oort. The An’Atee had definitely found acceptance among the rank and file.

  Greg commented on the observation to Tas’val who shook his head in sad agreement. “Old habits and beliefs are dying here today. My commanders will come around. Just give them a little more time.”

  Tas’val hosted a huge party, paying homage to those who had lost their lives, then he invited the senior officers to a private party while the rest of the An’Atee and Harbok partied hard in the hangar.

  Tas’val personally honored the admirals and captains from Earth, confirming a rumor among his staff that Earth had become involved in the plight of the Harbok. The warriors from Earth had found a way to bring the An’Atee to the battlefield. Together with the An’Atee, they had become allies in the war against the Oort.

  During his own brief speech, Greg let everyone know that it did not stop here. The Oort were still out there. There would be more battles, but efforts were underway to find the Oort home world and take the war to them. He welcomed the Harbok to join him in the search.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Smythe, when he was not massaging data from the scouts, loved just looking out at the galaxy and thinking about the wonderful creation he had spent a lifetime studying. At one point, his thoughts returned to the briefing Nessaka had given him on the current project—a briefing similar to the one Nessaka had given Greg during Greg’s initial introduction to the Harbok. The focus of that briefing had been the faint traces left by ships under StarDrive, which were the heart of the current mission, but Nessaka had also mentioned that vague traces of something else appeared in the recordings. Smythe got to wondering what those faint traces might be. He suspected they were energies of some kind or another, but they did not appear to be dependent on time or distance. Without time or distance, velocity and acceleration did not exist either. They could only be coming from another dimension.

  The human mind could not conceive of such a dimension, but mathematics could.

  Smythe was human, so he could not visualize such a dimension even if his mathematics could. Still, the other dimension, or dimensions, must exist if the ship traveled through it or them. Was there any way to actually see or touch them from our dimension? It boiled down to defining reality. Physicists and mathematicians had been arguing the concept for years. If you could not perceive something, did it exist? The answer was ‘maybe.’

  Human beings had been expanding their perceptions for thousands of years. Cells did not exist until the microscope was invented, and atoms did not exist until the mathematics necessary to describe them came into existence. Even then, the concepts surrounding existence on the atomic and subatomic levels changed as more and more became understood, though nearly all the understanding existed only through mathematics.

  Smythe kept coming back to the observable fact that ships under StarDrive did not obey the laws of our universe. They had to be within another dimension. But for the people inside the ship, nothing changed, meaning they stayed in our dimension of ‘normal space.’ The only place common to both dimensions must be at the boundary of the StarDrive field.

  His wondering became an effort of sheer brain power. Months went by during which Smythe cared little about what was going on with the primary mission. He wished badly for the chalkboards used by learning institutions on Earth. Though antiquated, those chalkboards readily lent themselves to seeing the whole picture described by an equation, and related equations could be displayed at the same time. The effects of changes made within those equations could be carried out down the line, and other participants could observe and synergize ideas.

  After months of effort, sometimes losing sight of where he had begun and where he was going and having to start all over again, he decided he needed a new approach. He could not make his brain ‘see’ the unseeable despite his elegant mathematical descriptions. He needed to add experimentation to the problem, but he could not conceive of a method for measuring the unmeasurable, for measuring a universe that he could only describe with imaginary mathematical values.

  He sought Gertie’s help. She had focused her working years on the practical side of physics. The submarines she had helped design required that she convert raw science into hardware, and whatever she came up with had to work every single time.

  Gertie scratched her head after looking at his work. “You’ve got to be kidding! I couldn’t follow that math in my best dreams. What is it you want from me?”

  “Nothing much. Just a tool that will measure something that is unmeasurable.”

  She frowned, knowing he was serious. “Okay, let’s go through this once more.”

  More weeks went by without progress. Then Gertie had an idea. Thinking aloud, she said, “Maybe we don’t have to make the measuring tool. Maybe the shield will make it for us.”

  Smythe let her reason through it without interruption. “When the StarDrive is in use,” she mused, “everything on our side of the shield is ‘normal.’ We laugh and talk and eat just like always, and our instruments and equipment work as they always have. When we come out of StarDrive, the rest of the universe has not moved on hundreds or thousands of years, even though it would have if we’d been traveling at or near the speed of light. So, on our side of the StarDrive boundary, everything is normal. It’s not normal on the other side. That means change is taking place within the boundary itself.” She looked a question to Smythe. “How thick is the boundary?”

  Without speaking, he turned away and left, deep in thought. He returned several days later. “I have no idea,” he said, as if the conversation was still in progress. “I suspect it has a fine boundary on our side, but for all I know, it expands into infinity on the other side.”

  She stared at him with a frown. “Hmm. That might make sense in theory, but it doesn’t in practice. The field has to be deep enough to hold a zone of transition.”

  She looked away from him and leaned against a laboratory table with her brow furrowed. When she looked back to him, she wondered aloud, “What would happen if we stuck normal sensors into or through the boundary? Will they change inside the boundary? Will the boundary itself change them? Can it make them a part of this other dimension without ruining them?”

  The idea, after more consideration, struck both of them as doubtful. Nevertheless, they d
ecided to set up an experiment to test it. What kind of probes could they use, and how would they get them into position? They brought Douglas and Nessaka into the discussion. Nessaka was completely taken with the concept, but Douglas was not.

  “Look, I know you’re sick and tired of working on all these sightings,” he said, “but they’re our job, our only real job. We’re already behind in evaluating the data. It’s piled up in your computers waiting to be processed. To find the Oort, we need to process the data.”

  “We will,” Nessaka said, “but remember how hard I told you the job was the first time around? It’s become just as difficult this time. The problem is not that the work is difficult, the problem is that the work is repetitive and tedious. We’ve been at it for years, and our minds are dulled. A few hours taken here and there from our primary work might sharpen our minds and make us more productive. We can work on this new project after hours, like a hobby. Give me a few weeks to see how things go. I’ll reevaluate then.”

  “I don’t mean to offend, but Greg warned me about how you An’Atee tend to get side-tracked.”

  “He’s right,” Nessaka said, nodding. “We’ll test ourselves. We know the rate of our current progress. If it declines, we will drop this other issue for the time being.”

  “On that basis, you have my approval,” Douglas said, “but don’t go sticking anything out into our shield without my approval. I don’t want to get us all killed. Remember, sir, you’re in space.”

  Nessaka turned gray. “In truth, I had forgotten,” he mumbled, suddenly less certain of himself.

  Gertie took his arm, and the two walked away deep in conversation. Douglas shook his head and smiled a grim smile. He suspected they were setting themselves up for disappointment.

  “What do you hope to achieve with this?” he asked Smythe.

  “I can’t say, sir, but my hope is that we might be able to see where we’re going when we activate the StarDrive.”