by Joe Horan
“I see. How did you come to be on this planet?”
“I was in tube three when it detached. I managed to find an escape pod.”
“Tube three!” Captain Lay was amazed. The Garatomba had managed to put enough distance between them before the Colossus blew up; the Balastar had not. Caught in the blast front and already damaged in the battle, her number-three tube had been ripped right off. Oona had seen the Balastar after the battle, with nothing but wreckage trailing from the truncated remains of the support strut. That was an unsurvivable event if ever she saw one.
“How did you get through the discontinuity?” she asked.
“I have no idea, sir.”
“I once heard the Legarian Court Scientist say; In a phenomenologically complex universe, unlikely things are bound to happen. I suppose you’re the living proof of that, enlistee.”
“Yes sir, I suppose I am. May I ask one thing, sir? Did the Balastar survive? I had a lot of friends on that ship.”
“Yes, enlistee, she survived. She was towed to Main Base C2 after the battle and as far as I know she’s still there.”
Gysr Horanus, ruler of the Atumcarian Empire sat in the War Room under the palace and watched the monitor. His wife, Empress Jill, sat beside him. They were watching a priority ultimate message from Admiral Jacanda, Chief of the Imperial Command. Admiral Jacanda was on Main Base C2 out near the border with uncharted space. Due to its remote location Main Base C2 had been chosen as the primary construction platform for the new battlefleet and Admiral Jacanda was paying a visit to see how things were going. Its remote location also meant that real-time communication was impossible. If Horanus wanted to send a reply to this message it would take nearly an hour to reach Admiral Jacanda.
“I have received a request from Captain Lay on the Garatomba for emergency planetary relocation of an isolated and previously unknown civilisation at the appended coordinates,” said Admiral Jacanda. “Her request states that the civilisation is mainly Grade 1, but Schedule XIV provisions apply. I await your instructions.”
Horanus and Jill looked at each other while the computer reconfigured the star charts on the giant holographic viewscreen to show the region beyond the border, then highlighted the Garatomba’s position.
“That’s a long way out,” said Jill.
“Yes,” said Horanus.
The general rule was that the officer on the spot made the decision and the officer on the spot carried the can, but a relocation under Schedule XIV was a political minefield. If the Atumcarian Empire was found to have breached First Contact Protocols it would mean big trouble; that was why Admiral Jacanda had referred it to him. Something like this went all the way up the chain of command till it reached him and that was where the buck stopped. But he knew Captain Oona Lay well. She would be aware of the consequences and would not make such a request lightly. And there was need for haste. He looked at the detailed scans of the planet that Captain Lay had appended. The mantle was impregnated with exotic matter and it was only a matter of time before it erupted through the crust and turned the planet into a desolate wasteland. If he took the safe option and referred everything to the League of Planets the population would be dead before it came to a decision, but no blame would attach to him.
“Part of the responsibility of ruling an empire is taking decisions like this,” said Jill softly.
Jill thought they should do it. Jill’s instincts were to help people in trouble; that was why he had made her his partner in ruling the Atumcarian Empire. It was not simply a question of avoiding blame; it was one of doing what was right. He looked at her, then back at the screen.
“Emergency planetary evacuation is authorised,” he said. “Send a message to Admiral Jacanda, priority ultimate. And start rounding up ships, as many as you can find. Have them start for Garatomba’s location at once.”
And it was amazing how one brief order from the Gysr galvanised everyone into action. People were talking at once, bringing up fleet lists and ship locations.
“I hope we don’t regret this,” he said.
“We won’t,” said Jill, finding his hand and giving it a little squeeze.
Shania drew a line on the map. There was sickness in the eastern provinces now, something the healers had never seen before. Quarantining patients seemed to have no effect; people still got ill whether they had contact with those affected or not. She was afraid it was the first harbinger of a wave of death sweeping towards them. Received wisdom was that if there was an epidemic in a province people must not be allowed out of it lest they spread the disease across the kingdom, so the borders of the eastern provinces had been sealed. Shania felt instinctively that this was the wrong decision. The sickness was not infectious; it was something in the very air that was making people ill. She told Nyassa and presumably she told Prince Joaquin, but so far the borders of the eastern provinces had not been unsealed.
The main gate tower horn blew, and again, and then a third time. Three blasts on the horn; danger at the main gate! They looked at each other…
“A ship of fire comes!”
With one accord they dropped what they were doing and ran out onto the balcony. Shania was last, of course. She couldn’t run as fast as the others; she couldn’t really run at all. She arrived just in time to get a good look at it before it dropped below the line of the wall. A giant metal bird descending on columns of fire. Eight jets of what must be hot gas were shooting out the bottom of its – body? hull? It must be like that thing the teacher did at school when she was ten. He put a model catapult on wheels, fired a stone across the classroom and the reaction force cause the catapult to move the other way. It was the reaction force to those jets of gas shooting out the bottom that held the ship up. Their knowledge may be centuries in advance of us, but they use the same physical laws.
The gate opened and Prince Joaquin rode out. They couldn’t see what happened next, but in the square a crowd was gathering and the main gate guard was pushing them back, making a corridor from the gate to the palace. One of the newly trained women’s companies was there; she could see Alysa Sheedy wearing her warrior’s coat, sword at her side and bow slung over her back.
People came through the gate; Prince Joaquin, Princess Desiree, four people wearing black armour (impossible to tell if they were men or women) and a small woman with short, dark red hair who wore a white tunic with four gold hoops on the sleeves. They walked towards the palace. The crowd threw flowers at them, the traditional Ochiran expression of friendship and appreciation. The men in armour looked a bit twitchy, but the red-headed woman turned and said something to them.
“What’s this? You’re not at the circus. Get back to work.”
Nyassa had found them gawping from the balcony when they should be in the map-room. They trooped back in trying not to catch her eye. It was impossible to stop them discussing what they had seen, though.
Ten minutes passed, then the door opened and the people they had seen crossing the courtyard came in.
“This is Captain Oona Lay, a leader among the people of the stars,” said Prince Joaquin, indicating the woman with dark red hair. “This is chief cartographer Nyassa. She has been assembling the reports that have been coming in and trying to establish a picture of what has happened in our land.”
“The Kingdom of Ochira is outlined in red, but only the central lowland belt has any significant population,” said Nyassa. “The Sun Scorch was worst towards the south and the east. In the north there was thick cloud on the day of the Sun Scorch, and to the west the sun was low in the sky. The storm was worse the further east one goes. Beyond the Yabok River here is the Kingdom of Kaun. A few survivors have managed to cross into Ochira; they all speak of utter desolation.”
“Kaun is destroyed,” said Captain Oona Lay. “Nearly all the people are dead.”
Nyassa closed her eyes for a moment and muttered something, then continued.
“This large island to the south is the Kingdom of Whesthan. We have had no conta
ct with them, but we fear for them. A large tsunami struck our southern coast two hours after the Sun Scorch. As you can see most of Whesthan is low-lying. If our estimate of the tsunami’s height is correct, all would have been covered except this central spine of mountains. Can you help us, please? Is it within your power to search and see if any may yet live? My family came from Whesthan, and I have relatives there still.”
“Yes, of course,” said Oona.
“There is a sickness in our eastern provinces, one that seems to have no cause and no cure,” said Shania. “If you can help us…”
“We have medicine that can help,” she said, “but you should move everyone back behind this line here.”
She sketched an imaginary line on the map, and Nyassa immediately drew it in pencil.
Something in Captain Oona Lay’s pocket gave a chirp. She pulled out what looked like a small, flat piece of metal and spoke into it.
“Captain Lay here.”
“First Officer Ramlah, sir. We’ve received a message from the Imperial Command. They’re activating general order 21381.”
“Order 21381?”
“I had to look it up myself, sir. Order 21381 is emergency planetary evacuation.”
She put the device back into her pocket, turned to Prince Joaquin and said, “That means we will evacuate your population. You will be taken to another planet orbiting another star where you can rebuild your society. You will be given as much or as little help as you wish. There is need for haste, however. You are a long way from the other human worlds and by the time we get enough ships here the radiation will reach dangerous levels.”
“We know it is coming,” said Nyassa.
“So I have been told. How?”
“Shania Enterada and the other mathematicians have been using a theorem that enables them to do so.”
The woman from the stars turned and regarded her in a way that made Shania want to run and hide.
“That’s impossible, unless… May I see your calculations, please?”
“They’re at the Institute,” she responded.
“Shania, would you take Captain Oona Lay to the Institute of Cartography and show her your work, please,” said Nyassa. “I’ll send for the Institute’s carriage.”
“They can take mine,” said Prince Joaquin. “In fact, I’ll come with you. I’ve seen some of your calculations but I don’t pretend to understand them.”
Nyassa came too, so Shania found herself riding through the streets of Ochira City in the royal carriage with Prince Joaquin, Captain Oona Lay of the Star People and Chief Cartographer Nyassa. She felt very insignificant. Captain Oona Lay looked about her curiously.
“It seems calm enough,” she said.
“This is about as excited as Ochira City gets,” replied Prince Joaquin.
“I notice you don’t have a bodyguard.”
“I am among my own people.”
“I also noticed that some of the soldiers guarding the city are women.”
“Our law says that you may be whatever you chose to be. The women you saw have chosen to be warriors.”
“That is a very advanced attitude.”
They reached the Institute of Cartography. Nyassa led the way inside. Shania felt the jaws dropping in astonishment as people saw them.
“This is Captain Oona Lay, a leader among the Star People,” said Nyassa by way of an explanation.
She led the way to a large room with a table in the middle of it, surrounded by chairs. Along two walls boxes were piled up high.
“These contain the analysis team’s work,” she said.
“Where do you suggest I start?” asked Captain Oona Lay.
Nyassa looked at Shania, who said, “These two contain the last round of calculations we did before we decided that we had made all the progress we could.”
Nyassa looked at Prince Joaquin, who pulled them out of the pile and set them on the table. Captain Oona Lay pulled the contents out of one and started leafing through.
“Those are mine,” said Shania, spotting her own small, neat script.
“Really? What does this signify?”
“That means a root negative number.”
“Root negative number?”
“Yes. A number that when multiplied by itself results in a negative number. Such a thing doesn’t actually exist, of course, but we need to imagine it does for the calculation to work.”
“We call them imaginary numbers.”
“Oh. That’s actually a good name.”
“And what about this?”
“That means repeat the above.”
“I presume that’s a second order derivative.”
“Er, yes if you mean what I think you mean.”
Oona Lay turned over a few more pages. A furrow appeared between her brows. At last she put them down, turned and regarded Shania. There was some emotion she could not identify in her eyes,
“You are using quantum probability theory,” she said. “I’m no mathematician, but I know enough to recognise it when I see it. Where did you learn this?”
“It’s largely Shania’s work,” said Nyassa.
“It’s based on the Ancient Knowledge. I found a book in the Institute’s archives and adapted it for this purpose.”
“The Ancient Knowledge?” said Oona Lay.
“It’s the wisdom the Ancestors brought with them,” explained Prince Joaquin. “The monks keep it in the Ractaz and I presume the Institute of Cartography also have it in their archives.” He paused, then added, “The Ractaz is a sanctuary in the mountains of the far north. It is possible that it is the remains of the ship that brought us to the World.”
“I’ve just come from there,” said Oona Lay, before adding slowly, “We use quantum probability theory for everything from forecasting the weather to balancing fluctuations in the drive cores of starships. The fact that you both understand it and are using it will go a long way towards justifying the decision to evacuate your planet.”
Chapter 10
Death of a World
“What news?” said Captain Lay, coming onto the bridge of the Garatomba.
“Three ships coming so far,” said Ensign Inhausen, the young, blonde communications officer. “Total lift about forty-eight thousand at LSL[*].”
“That’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough. Prince Joaquin tells me he’s got four hundred thousand people. Let the Imperial Command know that and tell them I don’t intend to leave anyone behind.”
“Communications aren’t easy. We’re getting field interference. Even at full power we can barely reach the border relays.”
“Couple primary power. Do whatever you have to do, but get the message through. Mark it personal for Admiral Jacanda. She won’t let us down.”
The first rescue ship had arrived, a giant silver hull circling the World. It had come in much closer than the Garatomba and could be seen as a point of light with the unaided human eye and was clearly visible with the Institute of Cartography’s distance glasses. The evacuation had begun and the cartographers stood in the early morning dark. For now the rain had stopped but the ground was soft and spongy. There were sixteen of them left. The others, including Nyassa, had already gone ahead on the previous shuttle.
Shania fingered her green badge nervously. A green badge indicate maximum priority. The cartographers had been given green badges as they would be needed to survey their new world and help assign land to the various clans. To one side stood another queue; people with white badges, the lowest priority. They would get on if there was room. If they did not they would have to wait for the next shuttle, which meant waiting for the next ship. This would be the last shuttle for the liner Starstrider. It turned out she had problems with her life support and could not carry as many people as originally thought.
Starstrider was the first rescue ship to arrive and would be the first to leave. Prince Joaquin was already aboard; he was going ahead to supervise the establishment of the colony while Princess Desiree wa
ited for the very last ship so those waiting behind would not feel abandoned.
Ten Star People stood around, all officers in the Atumcarian Spacefleet. They wore white tunics with their rank insignia. They had transparent rainproof capes over them. The two senior officers had communicators and two of the others had scanners to read the bar codes on their badges. All carried hand blasters; standard away team equipment.
The shuttle appeared, dropping out of the clouds with its VTOL thrusters blazing.
“Don’t be afraid!” shouted one of them. “It will not harm you.”
The shuttle came in and landed.
“Twenty-five only!” shouted one of the officers with a communicator. “The ship’s up to LSL. And get a move on. They’re running up the drive already.”
“Nine white only,” said the other officer; sixteen green badges plus nine white made the required twenty-five.
Everyone started to move forward. Shania was at the back of the line of cartographers. Ahead of her the man with the scanner was reading the code on their cards. He swept it over her card and it gave a beep. She took a step forward.
“Stop. That’s enough,” said the man who was scanning the other queue.
He had put his arm down in front of a girl of about twelve. In front of her were the rest of her family; a man, a woman and a fourteen-year-old boy. Shania stopped too.
“Keep moving miss,” said the man scanning her line.
Shania took one step and stopped again. The twelve-year-old girl was in tears. Her father was pleading with them to let her through, but the Star People were adamant.
“I’ll stay,” he said.
“No Daddy!”
“Yes. You go.”
“Either go or don’t go, but make up your minds now,” said the man with the scanner. “The shuttle has to leave.”
Splitting up a family like this was so wrong that Shania had to do something. She turned and went back.
“She can have my place,” she said.
“Can’t do that, miss.”
“It’s the badges, isn’t it? Here, take mine and give me yours. Now she’s got a green badge so she can go.”
