by E. R. Torre
Arcadia’s moribund Displacer was alive.
A tiny, almost unnoticeable black dot appeared in the Displacer’s swirling energized center. The incredible light show continued as the dot grew.
The very moment it slipped past the wall of energy, the Displacer’s core shut off. The swirling lights and vast energy were gone and the mighty machine returned to her long sleep.
In the bridge of the Salvo, the ship’s officers stared intently at the view screen and the information displayed on their computers. They watched silently. Breathlessly. Then, a computer’s voice broke that silence:
“Arcadia IV, fourth planet in this system, lower east quadrant. Breathable atmosphere, habitable. Temperatures average 112 degrees during the day, thirty six degrees at night. Five cites, category three and lower.”
“Are there any trace of vessels?” Inquisitor Damien barked. “Weapons?”
The bridge officers frantically checked their instruments. Sergeant Delgado was the first to speak.
“No ships in the vicinity, Inquisitor.”
“Weapons?”
“None sir. Neither mines, satellite defensive arrays… nothing at all sir,” another called out.
At this, the remaining personnel let out a relieved sigh. Inquisitor Damien, however, remained tense.
“What about exhaust?”
“Checking,” Sergeant Delgado said.
A starship’s discharge dissipated quickly in the vacuum of space. As small as the vessel that entered Arcadia the hour before was, the proximity of her time of arrival meant there should still be traces of her movements.
The Weapons Officer frowned.
“Are you detecting anything?” Inquisitor Damien said.
“No sir,” Sergeant Delgado replied. He shook his head. “I’m getting no exhaust at all. It’s as if… Sir, I don’t think any vessel has traveled through this Displacer. Certainly not in the past hour of—”
Inquisitor Damien’s face turned pale.
“Engage full port thrusters!” he yelled. “We’re heading back!”
Commander Meyers ran to Inquisitor Damien’s side.
“The hell you are,” he said.
“You were right, it is a trap,” Inquisitor Damien said. “But not the type we were expecting. Don’t you see? There’s no evidence any ship made the jump into Arcadia in the past hour. Whoever set this thing up can not only mask Displacer readings, they can also create fake readings. For all we know, the people who drew us here could have been here days, weeks, even months ago. They had all the time in the world to lure us!”
Commander Meyers looked up at the view screen and took a step back.
“Get us back to the Displacer and Davilia!” he ordered.
Exhaust poured from the bow of the Salvo. Its forward momentum was stopped cold and the mighty vessel shook before backing up. It gained speed as it headed directly for Arcadia’s Displacer.
“Five minutes,” the Navigator said.
Inquisitor Damien chewed on his upper lip. He faced Lieutenant Chandler.
“Initiate Displacer—”
“Sir,” Lieutenant Chandler said. “The Displacer is locked down!”
“What?”
Inquisitor Damien and Commander Meyers were instantly at Lieutenant Chandler’s side. Both looked over her shoulder and at her computer display. The Displacer’s schematics were on it. Every energy element was dark.
“What’s going on?” Commander Meyers said.
“Security features have activated,” Lieutenant Chandler said. “She’s not letting me in.”
Inquisitor Damien addressed the Weapons OP seated beside Chandler.
“Any sign of ships?” he asked.
“No sir,” Sergeant Delgado replied.
Inquisitor Damien let out a relieved breath.
“They lured us here but there’s no sign of an ambush. At least not yet.” Inquisitor Damien laid his hand on Lieutenant Chandler’s shoulder. “Get the Displacer back on and—”
“Sir, the Displacer’s energy core is showing strange readings,” she said. “Her power grid is… Sir, it’s overloading. The closer we get, the greater the charge. At this rate, she’ll blow well before we reach her!”
Inquisitor Damien swore.
“Navigator, full stop,” he ordered.
The Displacer’s increasing energy readings stabilized the moment the Salvo stopped.
“Back us up,” Inquisitor Damien said. “Give us distance.”
The Salvo moved away from the Displacer. As she did, the energy core overload dropped.
“Very clever,” Commander Meyers muttered.
“We’ll initiate a hack into the Displacer’s energy system and get around whatever is causing that overload,” Inquisitor Damien said. “In the meantime, we keep our distance.”
He again looked at the main view screen and the Arcadia Displacer. It was at that moment that the enormity of the Displacer’s size was apparent to him.
“Lieutenant Chandler, what are the Displacer’s dimensions?” Inquisitor Damien asked.
“Her width is five thousand three hundred miles,” Lieutenant Chandler said. “By the Gods. She’s even larger than the ones we and the Epsillon Empire have stationed in Erebus.”
Inquisitor Damien knew the information was true. As the uneasy border between the Phaecian and Epsillon Empires, it was vitally important both had the ability to move dozens of warships in system at a moment’s notice. And just as the Phaecian side had their super-Displacer, so too did the Epsillon Empire and for that very same reason.
“Putting a Displacer of this size in Erebus is logical given the Epsillon Empire lies just beyond that system,” Inquisitor Damien said. “What is a Displacer of this size doing out here?”
“I don’t know,” Meyers said.
“I want everyone with any knowledge of Displacer systems, no matter how small that knowledge is, to work on getting us back in control of her,” Inquisitor Damien said.
Inquisitor Damien eyed Commander Meyers and said:
“We’ve been invited to a party and our hosts made sure we don’t leave prematurely.”
22
The Planet Onia, within the Epsillon Empire
There exists a small planet on the edge of the Epsillon border of Phaecia and but one short Displacer jump from Erebus, the solar system which serves as the border between the mighty Empires. This planet was once an economic and military powerhouse, a port of call from which vessels jumped from the Epsillon Empire to the Phaecian Empire and vice versa. The vessels that did so had cargo holds filled with all manner of valuables, from spices to building material to high tech equipment.
As the friendship which once existed between Phaecia and Epsillon grew cold, Onia became a military outpost. It was a fallback planet, the place where the Epsillon military could mass and, should it be needed, jump to the neutral Erebus system and hold off any aggressive actions by Phaecia.
At first Onia benefitted from the militarization of the Erebus system. While tourists still frequented the planet’s historic sights, military vessels of all sizes passed through her ports on their way into and out of Erebus. This proved a fantastic financial windfall even as the strains on her environment became all too clear.
Once a luscious garden planet, Onia’s resources were used up at an alarming rate and the waste from passing ships, discarded in the planet’s seas or left behind in supposedly leak proof warehouses, showed.
To the woman walking the streets of Onia, it was something she’d witnessed far too many times in far too many worlds.
Her interests, however, were not on this planet and its dwindling resources but rather the old man who walked a block ahead of her. He moved slowly and with a pronounced limp, his limbs displaying the effects of advanced age. The souls of his shoes clicked against the azure cobblestones, the sound echoing throughout the narrow passageways.
He passed Onia’s famous and recently restored Blue Church. It was no longer a house of worship –religi
on being the providence of the Phaecian Empire– and was stopped by a young couple.
To residents of Onia, it was clear the couple were tourists.
“Could you take a picture of us?” the young woman asked the elderly man.
The elderly man smiled and nodded. He waited patiently as the young couple explained how the camera worked and were satisfied he knew how to take their picture.
Little did they know there were few pieces of electronic equipment, some still deemed top secret by Epsillon Military or the Ruling Corporations, this elderly man couldn’t figure out.
He took the couple’s picture and returned their camera.
“Much obliged, citizen,” the couple said.
The elderly man smiled and moved on. The woman following him did the same.
She traveled a very long way in a very short time, coming from Pomos to Onia. Despite the incredible distances between these worlds, her journey was barely a fifth of the way done. By normal Displacer jumps it would take her at least nine more days to make her destination but she would complete this trip in the next four hours.
First, though, she had to talk to this elderly man and tell him of her plans and needs. He would help her, she knew, because that was the type of man he was.
A low buzz was heard coming from within her coat.
She checked the communicator system strapped to her belt.
The Arcadia Displacer was activated and a ship matching the dimensions of the HPB Salvo was now in-system. The woman allowed herself a very human smile.
The Displacer would shut itself off and the crew of the Salvo along with her extra passengers were now stuck in that system.
She’d meet them soon enough.
Less than two hours later she was in the elderly man’s tenth floor apartment.
She watched from his apartment window as the man walked through the security gate and into the building’s lobby. When he disappeared from her sight, she sat down and waited the few minutes it took for the elevator to bring him up. She heard the elevator doors open and heard him walk the corridor toward his room.
He abruptly stop before the door leading into it. The woman left the door ajar.
She did this because she didn’t want to shock him by her appearance. As mentally sharp as the elderly man was, there was no telling how he would react to seeing her. There was a risk he would stay away from his apartment and summon security but she took care of the communication systems and would easily beat him to the elevator if he tried to run.
The elderly man cautiously approached his front door, no doubt unsure if he had left it open. He moved to the entry area and sniffed the air. He could smell her perfume, something she also purposely left to make him aware of her presence.
He reached over the kitchen counter and grabbed a knife before walking into the living room area.
Despite the many clues she left for him, he was still shocked when he saw her.
“How can this be?” the elderly man said.
Nearly fifty years had passed since he last saw her. While he aged, she looked exactly as she was back then.
“How can this be?” he repeated. “S… Saint Vulcan?”
She pointed to the chair opposite the one she sat in.
“Take a seat, David. We have much to talk about.”
23
HPB SALVO, in orbit around Arcadia
Another six hours passed and little changed.
Inquisitor Damien paced the bridge like a caged animal, now and again checking his crews’ computers for any new information. His frustration grew with each quiet tick of the clock.
“Lieutenant Chandler, what progress have you made in getting into the Displacer’s power grid?”
The central view screen switched to the ship’s rear cameras. Shadowy images hid the extreme size of the Displacer. Lieutenant Chandler spun around in her chair.
“I have to proceed very carefully, sir,” she said. “Our hosts set up a number of hidden protocols. I’ve disabled several of them but it is unknown how many remain. If I should stumble against even one…”
“Understood,” Inquisitor Damien muttered.
Commander Meyers approached Inquisitor Damien.
“If we can’t use it, we should make sure no one else will,” he said.
“It’s a five hundred year trip through regular space to the nearest inhabited Phaecian solar system,” Inquisitor Damien said. “We destroy the Displacer, we’ll be long dead before our great-great ancestors make it back home. If they make it back at all.”
“At this point I’m more worried about what may come through the Displacer and at us,” Meyers said. “It occurs to me our hidden adversaries may not have prepared any elaborate trap around Arcadia at all. They simply set out bait and waited to see if we’d gobble it up. For all we know, once they verify we’re here, they could send a fleet of Epsillon ships after us. One that could emerge from that Displacer at any moment.”
“We’re damned if we can’t get the Displacer to work and might well be damned if we keep her intact,” Inquisitor Damien acknowledged. He faced his Weapons Ops. “If the Displacer activates and you’re unable to get a signature on whatever vessels come through, you are to immediately take the Displacer, and them, out. Understood?”
“Yes sir,” Sergeant Delano said. There was little excitement in his voice.
At this Inquisitor Damien frowned.
“I want everyone to listen to me very carefully,” he said. “No one wants to be here. No one wants to face the unknown and as sure as the fires of Hades breathe hot, no one longs to stare death in the eye. Our options are few but we’re well trained and have the firepower of one of the most powerful battleships at our fingertips. When whoever brought us here comes after us, and they will, they’ll be in for one hell of a fight. It’s a fight I do not intend to lose, even if it means we have to destroy the Displacer. I’ll take freedom and survival with the slightest chance we see home space again over imprisonment or death. Are you with me?”
The crew nodded.
“Are you with me?” Inquisitor Damien yelled.
“Yes sir!” the crew yelled back.
“Good. As you were.”
Inquisitor Damien returned to his chair and was about to sit down when Lieutenant Chandler said:
“Sir, our orbital drones completed their readings of Arcadia.”
Inquisitor Damien and Commander Meyers approached Lieutenant Chandler’s station.
“What did they find?”
“The planet is as we expected, post-industrial and stripped of all minerals,” she said. “It has breathable air and trace amounts of water. There is no indication of organic based life or vegetation and elevated radiation across several quadrants. Some of these are in the red. There is one megacity on the northern hemisphere and several dozen smaller cities spread throughout the planet. The smaller cities are buried under the sands while the megacity remains mostly revealed. Pollution levels must have been incredibly high at one time but they’re in the high-normal limit now.”
“Wouldn’t want to live there,” Inquisitor Damien said. “Though I suppose that goes without saying.”
Lieutenant Chandler tapped several buttons.
“That’s strange,” she said.
“What?” Commander Meyers asked.
Lieutenant Chandler worked the computer’s keyboards.
“One of the probes just detected a burst of energy from within the megacity.”
“Can you determine—”
“It’s gone now,” Lieutenant Chandler said.
She clicked more keys and shook her head.
“I’m getting nothing now,” she continued. “The reading was in the range of two to three megawatts. It lasted exactly two seconds. Just long enough for detection but not long enough to get an accurate fix.”
“Perhaps it came from equipment left over from the time the planet was mined?” Inquisitor Damien said. “There must be plenty down there.”
“Could be,�
�� Lieutenant Chandler acknowledged. “But why would some random energy reading at that level appear at this moment?”
“Has there been any other noticeable event detected?” Commander Meyers asked.
Lieutenant Chandler worked her keyboard. She cycled through every reading from every drone and rechecked the Displacer. Finally, she shook her head.
“Nothing,” she said. “Just that one isolated reading.”
“How about comm transmissions?”
“I can find no transmissions, either” Chandler said.
Commander Meyers and Inquisitor Damien were silent for several seconds, each thinking furiously about the mysterious reading. Finally, Commander Meyers said:
“Show me the source’s approximate location.”
Lieutenant Chandler pressed a series of buttons and an orbital display of the megacity appeared before them.
“There,” she said. “West sector of the megacity.”
“What do you think, Commander?” Inquisitor Damien said.
“We were brought here for a reason, Inquisitor. I doubt it was to sit around and wait to crack the Displacer’s security codes so we could run home.” Meyers nodded. “That energy reading is an invitation. Whoever brought us wants us planet side.”
“You’re going?” Inquisitor Damien said.
“No, Inquisitor. We’re going.”
“We?”
“You’ll accompany me and my men.”
“Sir, I can be of more use—”
“It’s an order,” Commander Meyers said. He stepped to the center of the bridge and looked the crew over. “If it wasn’t clear before I’ll make it abundantly clear now: This mission is vitally important. Whoever drew us here is extremely clever and therefore extremely dangerous. They are not only a threat to us, but also to our families and loved ones. If we don’t take care of them here and now, I fear for the security of the Phaecian Empire.”
