by T. R. Harris
19
“WHAT happened in here?” Kincaid asked as he surveyed the scorched walls and mangled furniture that had once been Joanne Kawasaki’s workshop.
The physicist turned to her assistant, Ryan Grossman, with a sheepish look. “We had a little accident, but we did learn a lot from the event.”
“I told you bringing those objects back to the base was a mistake,” Bondel Drake offered. The smell of wet soot was still strong in the air.
‘Explain,” Robert commanded.
“Well, we had one of the modules working with sixteen units,” Ryan began.
“You let those things form up…in my base?”
“It’s okay, Robert,” said Joanne. “We had things under control. The module was just sparking away…until we established a smaller eight-unit module at the other end of the room. We wanted to see if the pair would naturally unite.”
“They certainly did something together. Like explode, from the look of things.”
“All the sparks from the larger one instantly linked with the smaller module,” said Ryan. “And then the return stroke destroyed them both, and in rather spectacular fashion.”
“What’s a return stroke?” Drake asked.
Joanne Kawasaki ignored the question. “You say there were thousands of crates aboard the space station?”
“Yep and there were fifty ships just like the one where Drake found the original objects.” Robert’s mood suddenly went from bad to worse as he regarded the expressions on the faces of the two scientists. “Why do the two of you look like you just swallowed a bug?”
“It’s because we’ve been able to measure the energy output of the few objects that have assembled, and Ryan was right, it is along a geometric progression.”
“Which means?”
Ryan stepped away from the small assembly of VIP’s and went to a ubiquitous chalkboard on the wall, now pockmarked with traces of shrapnel from the explosion that had occurred the day previous. “We’ve only allowed as many as twenty-four of the objects to join, even though they are programmed to continue building until there are no more. And we’ve also learned never to assemble two separate modules in the same vicinity. That can be very dangerous.”
“Ya think?”
Grossman drew four boxes on the chalkboard and then extended the lines to form a three-dimensional representation of eight boxes. “It takes eight objects to form a cube, and once joined, they begin to cycle energy between themselves.”
“So they’re battery-powered?” Drake asked.
“That’s the fascinating thing about them, Captain Drake,” said Joanne. “They can apparently draw energy from the very space around us, from the unseen interaction between normal and dark matter.”
“Say again, Doc, you lost me.”
“As you know, the Norvell Neutron Drive is able to tap into the currents of warped space caused by the clash between these two states of matter. It’s what allows faster-than-light travel. Also as a consequence of this clash, minute amounts of electricity is produced, something that was mistakenly assumed to be part of the background radiation remaining from the Big Bang that created the universe. Later theories grew from this, until it was found that about ten percent of the background noise was from this rubbing together of normal and dark matter, and not all exclusively from the Big Bang.”
“Ten percent doesn’t sound like a lot,” Robert chimed in. He was a damn good pilot, but a lousy scientist.
“Normally it isn’t. It’s barely noticeable, even with our most sophisticated detectors.”
“But these objects are able to cycle this charge between themselves and amplify it exponentially.” Ryan Grossman took over the conversation. He drew a series of circles enveloping the eight cubes on his board. “As they cycle, the minute electrical charge grows to incredible amperage.”
“By how much?” Robert asked.
“As far as we can tell, by a factor of one hundred—and that was before we broke the block apart. The readings indicate that the reaction would have continued if we’d allowed it.”
“So a block of these things with half a million pieces, multiplying a charge by over one hundred times; the numbers, I’m sure, are staggering.”
Ryan began to work a formula on the board. “Since the discharge from these objects is very similar to a lightning bolt, let’s compare it to that. A normal bolt can measure one hundred million volts and one hundred thousand amps. Even with our fusion reactors, electrical current within our homes is still in the same range it has been for hundreds of years, namely between two hundred twenty volts and twenty amps. So a lightning bolt is approximately ten thousand times stronger than your household amperage, and it’s the amperage that can kill you more than the voltage associated with a current. If we assume a cube of eight of these objects can create a current of approximately five hundred amps, then we could be looking at a device with the potential to create a bolt with over thirty-one million amps, or three hundred times stronger than the strongest lightning bolt ever measured. And that’s if the charge doesn’t continue to build even beyond the hundred times multiplier we’ve measured.”
“What would someone do with a charge that strong?” Drake asked.
Joanne shook her head. ‘What could be done with it? It’s a random spark of incredible intensity—a flash, it’s called—and it’s made up of countless smaller flashes called strokes. It can’t be aimed like a plasma bolt or a laser. Once created these splinters seek out return strokes from other sources that cause the visible light found in lightning. If formed within a vacuum, the charge would excite the space around it for hundreds, if not thousands of miles, electrifying everything in the area, while searching for a place to discharge its potential energy.”
“If this thing formed up within a fleet of ships, it could destroy them all.” Drake said.
“Not necessarily, Mr. Drake,” said Ryan Grossman. “Even something this powerful would only have a range of maybe a couple hundred thousand miles, and most space fleets are spread out over millions of miles. Yet if a planet was nearby—”
“Oh my god!” Joanne Kawasaki explained. Robert saw her face go pale.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“It just dawned on me—haven’t you heard the news?”
“No, what news?”
“About the peace talks.”
“Yeah, I know, that’s been going on for a while.”
“No, there’s been a breakthrough.”
“And they’re offering independence for the Reaches,” added Ryan Grossman.
“I’m sorry, but Drake and I have been out of touch for a few days. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”
Joanne was still visibly shaken as she spoke. “The Vixx’r have offered to withdraw from the Midlands and from the Reaches as part of the new peace agreement.”
Robert felt faint. “They’re leaving the Reaches! That’s great news—so why do you look so scared? This is what we’ve been after for six long years.”
“I’m scared because as part of the peace ceremony each side is sending a symbolic fleet to the other’s homeworld, to be scuttled in a public display of solidarity; a kind of a burying-the-hatchet type of event.”
Robert suddenly felt his insides twist into knots. “And I assume these scuttle fleets number fifty ships each.”
Joanne nodded.
Robert turned to Ryan Grossman. “You were saying something about what would happen if this thing formed up near a planet. Go on.”
Ryan swallowed hard. “This intense an amount of energy needs someplace to discharge. It will seek out a negatively charged object, and once it’s found, a series of flashes will head for the surface and the return strokes will ignite.”
“How big of a return stroke are we talking about?”
Ryan turned back to his board and scanned his figures. “Massive…probably a hundred miles in diameter and with an internal temperature of several million degrees.”
“And what happens
to the object that the bolt strikes?”
Ryan looked to Joanne for support, not wanting to complete the doomsday scenario himself. The woman took a deep breath before continuing. “The intense heat of a lightning bolt that huge would vaporize the atmosphere for thousands of miles around, literally setting it on fire. The heat wave would propagate outward until the effects are felt across the entire surface of the planet. The ground where the bolt strikes would be melted, creating gigantic lakes of molten rock, which will only add to the heat in the atmosphere. The mantle would become unstable and massive earthquakes would occur, probably creating a ripple effect over the entire surface. After that, the effects would linger for months, if not years, rendering the planet uninhabitable for…essentially forever.”
From the stunned looks on the faces of the scientists Robert already knew the answer to his next question. “And I assume this ceremony is set to take place in orbit around Earth?”
Both Joanne and Ryan nodded. “In fifteen days, according to the newscasts,” Joanne said, putting the icing on the cake.
“Maybe our little outing to their secret base disrupted the timetable,” Drake offered.
Robert nodded. “I hope so, but if this ceremony is to take place in fifteen days—and it’s going to take the fleet nearly that long to get to Earth—then most of the objects may have already been placed aboard the ships when we did our little dog-and-pony show.” Robert turned and headed for the door of the laboratory.
“Where are you going?”
“To try and reach President Simms again. She has to be warned.”
“She hasn’t answered your calls for the past month,” Drake stated.
“I have a link directly to her office, to be used only in emergencies.”
Drake nodded. “Then go for it. If ever something could be classified an emergency, this would be it.”
20
ROBERT Kincaid made his way to his stateroom aboard the Malicious and withdrew the special comm unit from under his desk. It was a single-purpose link to a dedicated warp-line that ended at an underground facility on Mars. From there the communication would be routed to the private office of Victoria Simms. If she wasn’t in her office, a special module imbedded under the skin behind her left ear would vibrate and she would know to respond to the message.
Traveling the tramlines between planets, Robert’s signal reached Earth in a matter of forty seconds, and once the link was established, then real time communications could be initiated. He had no idea what time it was on Earth, and he didn’t care. He knew she would receive the notice and even if she didn’t answer immediately, he would wait at his end for her to close the link.
To his immense surprise and relief, the link snapped into existence almost immediately, yet instead of the face of the handsome older woman he was expecting, he was greeted by the puzzled look of a man with dark skin and dark eyes.
“Who are you?” Robert asked.
“Who are you?” the man replied. He not only looked puzzled, but anger quickly replaced curiosity. “Kincaid!”
“That’s right. Where is President Simms? This is a private link, which I’m pretty sure you’re violating about a dozen security protocols by answering.”
The man on the screen now smiled. “Indeed, Mr. Kincaid, and I will use knowledge of this link as further evidence of Madam President’s collusion with the traitor and criminal Robert Kincaid.”
“Patel! You’re Kyle Patel.”
“That’s First-Secretary Patel, and as of forty days ago, the acting President of the UPE.”
“Where’s Victoria?”
“She’s under house arrest, pending trial for treason and conspiracy.”
“That’s crazy, and you know it.”
“Do I? President Simms actively conspired with you to undermine the peace negotiations taking place between us and the Vixx’r, sending her attack dog—you—to foment tension and distrust for the aliens. You, by her decree, have attacked civilian vessels and killed civilian members of the Vixx’r race. As a result, hundreds of thousands of Humans could die in the war you and Simms seek to prolong through your reckless actions. But I have seen to it that peace will prevail, even in spite of you and the efforts of former President Simms.”
“Listen to me very carefully, Patel, there will be no peace. The fleet the Vixx’r are sending to Earth contains a secret weapon that can destroy the entire planet.”
Robert’s heart sunk when Patel laughed. “It is amazing! That is just what the Vixx’r told me you would say. You see, I’ve been expecting your call, ever since I learned the news of your attack on the staging center for the scuttle fleet.”
“Aren’t you listening? There’s a weapon of incredible energy hidden within the scuttle fleet.”
“No there isn’t, Mr. Kincaid. We have had inspectors on site for half a year, monitoring the preparations. Every detection device available has been used, and none have picked up even the slightest trace of an explosive of any kind, plasma or conventional.”
“It’s disguised as part of the bulkhead, probably within the landing bay.”
“An unseen and undetectable weapon? The Vixx’r were right about you—you are insane. And you might be interested to know that nineteen Human inspectors were aboard the space station you destroyed, so besides all your other crimes, you will have to answer for their deaths as well.”
“The Vixx’r have set up this whole thing, and if you don’t listen to me, your precious Earth will be destroyed. That wouldn’t look too good on your resume, now would it?”
“Listen to yourself; your words are the rantings of a madman. And I thought you would be happy to hear of the liberation of the Reaches? The Vixx’r are going away, Mr. Kincaid. There will be peace, both here and on your homeworld. This should be a time for celebration, and yet you and Simms still persist in seeing enemies around every corner.”
“The Vixx’r are going to destroy Earth, you ignorant ass! And you’re going to have a front row seat to the show.”
“You keep telling yourself that, Mr. Kincaid, if it helps calm the demons within. In the meantime, more rational tempers will prevail. Your time is over, Captain Malicious—as if you ever really had a time to call your own. My legacy will last forever, while yours will be footnote to one of the great atrocities committed by misguided souls. Good-bye, Mr. Kincaid. Enjoy what life you have left.”
The screen went blank. Robert stared at the useless comm link for a moment before grabbing it and throwing it into the nearest metal bulkhead he could find. He stormed out of the cabin and headed back to the lab.
When he returned he found a dozen men swarming the area driving loaders laden with the huge crates containing the mysterious modules. He watched with anger and confusion as the line of crates lead directly to Drake’s ship, the Kai Shek.
Robert entered the small vessel, fuming.
“What the hell are you doing, Drake!”
The Captain of the Kai Shek was in the rear cargo bay, supervising the loading of the crates. “I’m going to stick these things right up their alien asses!” Drake responded with anger in kind.
“What do you mean? I didn’t authorize this.”
“No you didn’t. You were too busy trying to solve the problem by talking with someone over four thousand light-years away. I’m going to fly this load right into the middle of that secret Vixxie base and let these thousand creepy little balls of energy form up and take out the whole damn lot of them. That’s my solution to the problem. Is that decisive enough for you? And what did Simms say; that she’d take it under advisement, maybe form a committee to study the problem?”
“Simms’s been placed under arrest and that maniac Kyle Patel is in charge now.”
Drake suddenly stopped what he was doing. He stepped up close to Robert. “Is she still alive?”
“I believe so,” Robert said, taken aback by the intensity of Drake’s question. “She being accused of treason because she authorized my activities. The Vixx’r had alr
eady contacted Patel and warned him I’d be calling. Now the bastard’s listening to them and not to me.” Robert looked around at the rapidly filling cargo hold. “You think you can get in close enough?”
“It’s worth a try. Grossman’s going with me to help activate the swarm, as he calls it.”
“Why not take the Malicious instead?”
“Too big of a signature and too well-known. They’ll be looking for her anyway.”
“Then I’m coming along.”
Drake stared hard at Kincaid. “That’s fine, just as long as you know I’m the captain of this ship. You follow my orders.”
“That’s fine,” Robert said, exasperated. “Whatever it takes to stop that fleet from getting to Earth. But we haven’t much time. For the fleet to reach the Solar System in time for the ceremony, it needs to leave in two days. That will barely give us enough time get to the base.”
Drake smiled. “The Kai Shek can make it there in a day. She has some propulsion add-ons that even you don’t know about, including one of the largest jib sails in half the UPE. We’ll make it in time.”
Robert watched as the last of the caravan of two hundred crates was crammed into the back of the Kai Shek. “Then clear the decks of all those not going with us. I’m cutting the gravity…and then let’s go!”
21
TRUE to his word, the Kai Shek navigated the tramlines between Ione and the Vixxie base near Freeland in record time. Robert had never seen a ship ride the currents as did Drake’s ship, with just the right amount of sail and just the right tacking. And the giant, billowing jib caught more of the stream than even the extra two masts carried by the Malicious.
They emerged from the interstellar tramline on the opposite side of the lifeless star system from the Vixx’r base and began to slide along the local currents, more by feel than by the outdated charts they had for this obscure section of the Reaches.
