by Isaac Hooke
Ten days later, the brass pulled Alfa and Bravo platoons out of Mongolia a good six months before the deployment was due to end.
That left a lot of hard-feelings and pissed-off platoon members, let me tell you.
The Chief assembled us, and calmed us as only he could.
"You're big boys now, aren't ya?" Chief Bourbonjack said. "Settle down. You know Brass wouldn't have pulled you without a good reason. Look, I'll deal it to you straight up. You're going from one deployment smack dab into another. And your new mission is far more important."
He combed down the tips of his mustache with his index fingers, like he did when he was about to say something he considered momentous.
"The Teams go where they are needed," Chief Bourbonjack said. "And we are needed in space."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
We were assigned to the battlecruiser Leaping Matilda and launched into orbit the next day. The Chief didn't tell us anything else, other than that the mission was Special Reconnaissance on one of the colonies. He promised that the Lieutenant Commander would explain more before we made the jump through Sol Gate 1.
The shuttle trip to the cruiser was uneventful, if reflective. I sat by the window the whole time. Shuttling back and forth between the Earth and moon had become almost routine in training, so I was used to the sights. Still, I gave the Earth a good, long look through the tri-paned portal along the way, because this was the last time I'd be seeing my favorite blue planet for a while. Far below me I could see one of the agro ships that produced most of the planet's food, the dome-shaped glass surface perpetually bombarded by sunlight.
The shuttle reached medium Earth orbit and approached Space Station Nine. There were a lot of military ships up here, queuing for a refueling spot, or simply waiting for their crews. Most of the ships were little more than dots in the distance, but the shuttle did pass near a hulking battleship. Its midship had large superstructures containing numerous LIDARs and electronic warfare antennas and sensors, while the forward portion was reserved for the heavy caliber gun turrets and swivel-mounted torpedo tubes.
Not a ship to be messed with.
When the hangar doors opened, I realized this battleship was the Leaping Matilda.
Our ride. Nice.
I glanced one last time at my receding homeworld.
Ah Earth. I don't know when I'll see you again. I'll sure miss you, that's for sure. Despite your faults. And your wars.
I felt like I was only just getting to know that planet of mine, and here I was leaving it.
I didn't really regret it.
I was far too excited for that.
* * *
At standard speed it would take fifty-eight absolute Standays (Standard Earth Days) to reach Sol Gate 1.
We didn't get that time on liberty. The G dampeners and the artificial gravity ensured that we kept in tiptop shape: PT in the mornings, classroom and virtual reality-based training in the afternoon. The builders of the Leaping Matilda had been kind enough to install a virtual kill house to accommodate us commando types, so we got lots of practice against the contingent of MAs (master-at-arms) who served as part of the ship's permanent security force, not to mention a handful of Marines who were hitching a ride. There was also a room with no artificial gravity where we could practice spacewalks. They even had a couple of ATLAS simulators, which Alejandro and I used to rack up our simulation hours. Manic, Lui and Bomb often joined in.
The Leaping Matilda was escorting three civilian ships to the Gate. While the UC and the SKs kept up a tenuous peace on Earth, as part of a policy of military and economic competition the SK government gave "letters of marque" to privateers, sanctioning the takedown of UC ships for salvage purposes in certain regions of space. This was great for the SKs, who were a smaller naval power—it gave them armed ships and crews at no cost. Not so great for the UC, because it meant we had to deploy warships to protect civilian assets.
The weeks passed, and finally, about three hours before reaching Sol Gate 1, Lieutenant Commander Braggs assembled Alfa and Bravo platoons for the promised pre-Gate briefing.
I took a seat and observed my platoon mates. They were antsy as they waited for the Lieutenant Commander to arrive, which could be expected. But mostly eager to get to work.
Tahoe sat down beside me.
"Hey," I said. "Looking forward to the jump?"
"I was made for this." Tahoe gave me the standard tough-guy-on-the-teams response, but when he palmed his chin I saw a momentary flash of grief in his eyes.
"Missing the wife and kids, huh?"
Tahoe hesitated, as if debating whether to speak his mind. "More than ever, Rade."
"I hear ya," I said. "It's hard, being separating from those you love. But you'll still be in touch, right?"
"Sure. But the lag's only going to get worse."
I tapped my lips. "You talking about the InterPlaNet lag between solar systems?"
"I am. There will be an eight to ten hour lag no matter which system we end up in. And that's just for text chat."
I hadn't really chatted with anyone from Earth via my Implant since we left, so I wasn't sure what the in-system lag was like. There was no lag for voice or text messages sent between people on the same ship, of course. Earlier I did try watching some Net vids though, which were sourced out of Earth. Playback was instantaneous for the more popular vids (which were probably cached locally on the warship's servers), while the less popular vids took about ten minutes to buffer for every minute of play time.
"How's that all work again, anyway?" I said, hoping to distract him from thinking about his family, if only for a short time. Tahoe always liked talking about how things worked. "Why is the lag so bad between systems?"
"You weren't paying attention during the InterPlaNet course, were you?"
"I must have slept through that one."
Tahoe sat up a little straighter. "Each star system has an InterPlaNet, which is comprised of network nodes on bases and starships. These nodes sync with the interplanetary network every few days. When a military ship Gates from one system to the next, its onboard computer carries with it all the archived bundles of data it has received from the InterPlaNet while in that system. When it arrives in a new system, it transmits those packets, which are picked up by the interplanetary nodes in that system. The bundles slowly disperse throughout our little section of the galaxy as the starships move from solar system to solar system, syncing up their bundles. Of course, we also have Node Probes, small drones whose sole purpose is to pass in and out of Gates all day, transferring data bundles. Taken altogether, all those individual InterPlaNets form the InterGalNet. Obviously that's a simplified description, but you get the idea. Delay-tolerant networking at its finest."
"Well," I said. "Just be glad you can send a message at all. And come on, quit your complaining: At least you got someone back home to send a message to. I have no one."
Tahoe frowned. "You know that's not true, Rade. You have us."
He was right.
My family was here, now.
Lieutenant Commander Braggs entered the room and took the podium.
Everyone quietened.
This better be good, Alejandro transmitted on his Implant.
Shut up, I sent back.
You shut up, Alejandro transmitted. Think you're pretty hot stuff right now don't you, just because you won the ATLAS simulation this morning? Rematch time, hombre. When this briefing is over, you and me are heading to the sims. I'm gonna crush your ATLAS and eat your metal arms for breakfast. I'm gonna rip you out of that cockpit and—
I put his Id on a two minute block.
"I have to apologize once again for pulling all of you off your previous deployment," the Lieutenant Commander began. "But trust me when I tell you that this mission is far more important. You guys are getting to do the fun, hard-core stuff. Not like the rest of Team Seven, stranded back on Earth, battling tooth and nail for every square meter of Mongolia."
"Sounds fun an
d hard-core to me," Bender said.
Lieutenant Commander Braggs gave him a polite smile. "I won't use up too much of your time, Bender. This briefing is going to be quick. And I mean real quick, because, unfortunately, I can't go into too much detail on the overall mission, Operational Security and whatnot."
Not this OPSEC bull again, Bender transmitted on the platoon-level comm line via his Implant, which included everyone on Alfa platoon except the Lieutenant Commander.
Quiet, Facehopper warned. We don't need attitude right now.
"All I can tell you is that we're headed into the heart of Sino-Korean territory," the Lieutenant Commander continued. "After passing through Sol Gate 1 to Sirius, we'll take the next Gate to Gliese 581, where we'll rendezvous with an SK bulk carrier in Franco-Italian space. Once we've docked with the carrier, the plan is to pass through the SK-owned Gate in Gliese 581 to Tau Ceti."
"Tau Ceti?" Fret frowned. "The solar system the SKs use as their space operations center?"
"The very same. As I said, we're headed to the heart of SK space."
The lanky communicator pursed his lips. "I like this mission."
Lieutenant Commander Braggs smiled. "I can see you're trying to puzzle out just how we're going to sneak two spec-op platoons past SK Gate Customs. Well, feel free to speculate all you want, because as I said, at this time I'm not at liberty to divulge that information." He ran his gaze over everyone. "I only really have one other thing to say. Due to the sensitive nature of this mission, all public profile data associated with your embedded Ids has been wiped. If you're captured, the enemy will have no idea who you are. Furthermore, I am restricting all inbound and outbound Net and Milnet transmissions once we pass Sol Gate 1. You can communicate with the people on this ship by Id number, and this ship alone. If you absolutely need to send a message to the outside, you'll have to come see me first. Don't worry, your full Net access and profiles will be reinstated when we return. Until then, you're all ghosts."
There was silence in the room. We all knew that this would happen, eventually. We were special forces operators. Being out of touch with our friends and families for months at a time was expected. Though it would be harder for some than others of course. Like Tahoe.
I glanced at him. He was staring at his feet, his lips pressed tight together.
Ghost finally broke the ice. "We're all ghosts?" the albino said. "But I'm supposed to be the only Ghost here."
He got a few polite chuckles at that.
Lieutenant Commander Braggs forced a smile. "If there are no questions, return to the berthing area and prepare to enter Sol Gate 1. Send your final messages to your families. Dismissed."
* * *
The barracks were located on the forward side of the ship, giving us a front-row seat view of the Slipstream jump. Through the portal in the berth I watched the Leaping Matilda near Sol Gate 1, which was this massive circular frame of metal that spanned ten klicks of otherwise empty space. Beyond the Gate, space seemed perfectly normal. The constellations weren't distorted, as one might expect from an object that projected a hole through the very fabric of spacetime.
There was a line of about twenty ships queued up in front of the Gate, offset to the right from the absolute center. Incoming ships always entered on the right, which ensured that outgoing ships always emerged on the left. Sure enough, as I watched, a starship appeared seemingly from nowhere to the left of the queue, and thrusted away.
The Leaping Matilda took her place at the back of the line and waited her turn as the queued ships accelerated and vanished through the Gate one at a time.
Our turn came.
I braced myself. In all my training, I'd never once left the solar system. My heart was beating with excitement, and the fear of the unknown.
I glanced at Alejandro. His eyes were wide. I saw a bead of sweat drip down his forehead.
"Look at them," Bender said, nodding at me and Alejandro. "They're like frightened girls. You'd think they'd never set foot in space before."
I ignored Bender's words, and TJ's guffaws. Their behavior brought me right back to the first few weeks after I'd joined Alfa Platoon, to the daily hazings forced upon Alejandro, Tahoe and I. While everyone had hazed us, Bender and TJ had given us the worst of it. Random knockout punches. Choke-outs from behind. Ice-bucket wake-up calls. Hair remover mixed in with shampoo. Definitely not fun. But we'd taken it in stride, and endured whatever punishments those two dished out. When we finally deployed to Mongolia, the hazings had stopped, but those two never really respected us, and it showed.
It didn't help that the three of us hadn't been given callsigns yet. That was at the discretion of the leading petty officer, and I guess Facehopper thought we hadn't seen enough action yet. So as far as Bender and TJ were concerned, we were still caterpillars.
The actual passage through the Gate was a bit anticlimactic. I was staring at the vast rim of the Gate the whole time, and the moment we flew underneath, the stars shifted. I couldn't tell if those points of light moved a few centimeters, or a few meters: they seemed entirely different to my eyes. After a few seconds I reoriented myself and was able to pick out some of the constellations. They'd shifted slightly to the left.
That was it. No sensation of having my molecules ripped apart and reassembled. No tingly feeling.
No nothing.
Just a shifting of the stars.
We had been catapulted eight lightyears to the binary star system Sirius and hadn't felt a thing.
The discovery of the Slipstreams and the invention of the Gates had kicked off the era of colonial expansion, effectively short-circuiting the distance between star systems. According to the course I had taken, Slipstreams were quantum disturbances that tunneled through the fabric of the galaxy. A given Slipstream had specific entry and exit points in spacetime, usually around fifteen to twenty lightyears apart. Exit points also served as entry points, and vice versa.
Slipstreams couldn't be entered by themselves—the gravitational forces tore a starship apart. However, since Slipstreams followed a known, calculable trajectory between entry and exit points, it was possible to build special "Jump Gates" along the path of the Slipstream to stabilize those sheer forces. A spacecraft entered the Slipstream via a Gate, and would drop out again when it reached the next Gate along the Slipstream's trajectory, or the natural exit point, whichever came first. However if you came out and no Gate was there, you were SOL until the Builder Ships decided to pop through the Slipstream and built you a return Gate.
The ability to create Gates anywhere along a Slipstream's trajectory allowed starships to enter and exit at convenient points in spacetime, such as solar systems. Funny thing was, most Slipstreams already had natural entry and exit points inside or near solar systems, which caused some people to postulate that the Slipstreams were created by Extraterrestrial life. Others, mostly the ET detractors, believed that the Slipstreams formed as a natural byproduct of massive gravity wells, such as stars.
Whatever the case, most of the explored solar systems had at least two Slipstreams passing through them. This allowed a starship to enter a system from one Gate, travel to the second Gate, and jump to the next system. In our own solar system, Sol Gate 1 led to Sirius and was regulated by the UC, while Sol Gate 2 on the opposite side of the system belonged to the Sino-Koreans and led to their space. The SK ships weren't allowed through our Gate and our ships weren't allowed through theirs, under threat of war.
I watched the rim of the Gate quickly recede behind our ship, and I knew the Leaping Matilda had increased its thrust. We'd be accelerating to standard speed as soon as the three civilian ships we escorted came through.
Alejandro shook his head. "That it?" He laughed nervously. "I've been on rollercoasters that were worse than this."
"The rollercoaster ride has only just begun, bro," I said.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sirius A was damn bright, and caused the photochromic glass portals on the starboard side to become opaque, compl
etely blocking all direct eye viewing of the space on that side. As for Sirius B, well, the star map said it was there, and I guess I'd just have to believe it. I'd been taught all about binary systems in the astrophysics classes I took. Perhaps the most interesting fact, and about the only thing I could remember from that course, was that as binary stars orbited one another, the habitable zone in the system fluctuated. That meant Sirius I, "Albuquerque," the only terraformed planet in the system, had its seasons run the gamut from spring, summer, fall, winter, and back again over a period of weeks.
The Leaping Matilda secured two of the civilian ships at the spaceport above Albuquerque, where they would queue up for the next military escort. The third civilian ship stayed with us, and we also took on another vessel, a massive colony ship filled with seventy-thousand pioneers.
Thirty-five days later saw us reach Sirius Gate II. We queued and took the jump to Gliese 581, a neutral system controlled by the Franco-Italians.
Gliese 581 was kind of a transport crossroads, and was unique in that it had six Slipstreams passing through it. Gates had been built upon all six. It was too bad the Franco-Italians had control of the area—it was a very strategically important system. That said, the Franco-Italians had signed treaty agreements that basically handed over two of the Gates to the UC, and two others to the SKs, keeping both sides happy. FI space was considered neutral, so merchants from all three sides could trade here without violating extra-solar sanctions.
SK Privateers weren't allowed to operate here, so we cut the two civilian ships loose.
A few weeks later our battlecruiser reached a secret base just within the Gliese 581 comet belt. Once there our team shuttled over to a massive, boxlike bulk carrier. My teammates and I gathered around the portal and watched the approach to her docking bays.
The rough-hewn shape of SK design was evident throughout that metallic hull, and the dragon-head logo of the SK manufacturer was stamped in red on one side. I saw the ship's name, written in Sino-Korean characters: Fàn Shāngrén. That meant Rice Merchant, according to the translator built into my Implant.
