by Alex Lamb
She grinned. Clath chuckled.
Mark’s face coloured before he could invoke his augs to suppress the response. He glared at her. What did she think she was playing at?
‘Mark’s sub – and our lead officer for the initial military phase of the mission – is Andromeda Ludik, everybody’s favourite ice queen.’
Ann regarded Palla with all the compassion and interest of a fully fed tiger.
‘Once we reach the Zone, Ann will have the hardest job on the ship,’ Palla went on. ‘She’ll be plugged into our sensors and modelling the curvon flow in real-time. Mark will use her data to fly. And sitting beside our cast of elderly all-stars, I’d like to introduce the two other members of our lucky, lucky team. The first is Clath Ataro, our Depleted Zone physics specialist, who’s been training for this mission for what – six years?’
‘Eight years,’ said Clath brightly. ‘Though I honestly didn’t think they’d ever let it happen.’ She looked around at the others with eyes full of enthusiasm.
Mark smiled woodenly at her and tried not to resent the poor woman’s presence. He and Zoe had hired her years back. She was an excellent officer who’d kept them up to date with dull, if incredibly conscientious, reports.
‘And lastly,’ said Palla, ‘this is Judj, our resident biodefence analyst. He’s our ship’s doctor, our seeded-subversion specialist and the person we should all go to if we start having really happy dreams in which everyone loves each other. Right, Judj?’
‘Yep,’ said Judj.
‘Get this,’ said Palla. ‘Unlike the rest of us, Judj actually volunteered for this mission!’
Judj shot her a quick glance of disapproval and then nodded.
‘So I did,’ he said.
That Judj had volunteered implied he had the clearance to even know the mission was happening. Which was more than Mark had been told, despite his all-star status. Any doubts Mark might have had that Judj worked for Internal Security could now be put to rest.
‘Now that the doors are sealed, your mission-briefing access has bumped a level,’ Palla assured them. ‘So if you want to know more about our happy team, just ask your shadows. And now I’ll hand over to Mark, who’s going to explain what this mission is all about.’
Mark examined his audience. Ira stared through him like a robot and Ann didn’t even bother looking in his direction. Of the three younger crew, only Clath appeared engaged. Palla’s smug smile betrayed nothing and Judj watched him like a lab specimen. Was there any way to breathe enthusiasm into this joyless bunch? He was damned well going to try.
‘I think you’re all aware of the goal of this mission,’ said Mark. ‘We’re headed for Snakepit. We’ll try to rouse the planet to help us, and if we can’t, we’ll glass it to prevent the Photes from ever having access.
‘Few people realise that in physical terms, Snakepit’s not far away. It’s only about thirty-eight light-years from Galatea. But it’s in the wrong direction – corewards – so warp can’t take us where we need to go. That means the only way to get to it in our lifetime is through a Penfield Lobe gate that can take us down onto a lower shell. Fortunately, the new gate we found looks extremely promising. It has the same characteristic prime-number sequence in its absorption lines as the one the Photes now have blockaded, it’s on our shell, and it’s relatively close. In fact, the only thing wrong with it is that it’s on the other side of the Zone.
‘But is that such a big deal? We’re all used to thinking of the Zone as a wall – an impenetrable barrier that runs for hundreds of light-years. Yet it’s not. It’s just a region of space where curvons aren’t flowing out from the galactic core – not so much a wall as a gap. Likewise, we all assume that the Zone is a Transcended artefact just because the edge of the Zone is straight. And because it looks artificial, we’ve also assumed that we’re supposed to stay out. That we’re not supposed to cross it. Since the start of the war, that logic has barely been challenged despite the fact that the Transcended never once mentioned the Zone to us.
‘Nobody has debated that thinking because the Zone is admittedly dangerous. We’ve been busy fighting the Photes. And only small ships with tiny crews stand a chance of getting through. Add to that the possibility of existential risks on the other side and you can see why this mission hasn’t been at the top of anyone’s agenda.
‘But two things are different now. One – we lost Earth, which puts us in species crunch-time. And two – the Alpha Flaw has grown by over eighty per cent since first measurement. Which means that traversing safely is more likely now than ever. This means that one ship can make a difference. We know this mission is a stretch, but if we pull it off, the human race could be free again. The terror of the Photes could be ended once and for all.’
Mark surveyed his team’s faces. Only two expressions had changed: Ann’s and Judj’s. Both had slid in the direction of outright cynicism.
‘Any questions so far?’ said Mark.
‘Sure,’ said Judj. ‘You talked about “traversing safely” – what does likely actually mean in this context? A fifty per cent survival likelihood or five?’
‘We don’t know,’ Mark admitted. ‘No automated probe has navigated all the way through the Alpha Flaw or you’d have heard about it. Our superlight drones get stuck in dead space, and everything sub-light we’ve sent in won’t reach the other side for decades. The best news we have is that a few of our superlight probes reached an area where curvon density is increasing, suggesting that the far side of the Zone can’t be far away. On the other hand, the main reason probes haven’t made it through is because we’ve barely tried. Research in this area has received almost zero budget for the last thirty years. We haven’t risked a ship with human-level piloting intelligence in decades. And at the same time, drone technology has come on in leaps and bounds. We’ll be able to reuse some of the same technology that detects Phote blockades to identify patches of dead space.’
‘No answer, then,’ said Judj flatly. ‘Question two: how do we even know there is an other side?’
‘From the presence of the lure star,’ said Mark.
‘Which is how far away?’
‘About ninety light-years.’
‘Not actually close, then,’ said Judj. ‘And what happens if the Zone ends right before it?’
‘Then we’re hosed,’ said Mark. ‘But that scenario has a very low probability.’
‘Which you determine how, exactly?’
Mark drew a deep breath and tried to answer without sounding annoyed. ‘Our best theories suggest that the galactic curvon flow relates to a system of holographic convection cells in the horizon of our galaxy’s central black hole.’
‘Convection of what?’
‘Spatial potential,’ said Mark.
‘That’s a little speculative, isn’t it?’ said Judj.
‘Not as much as you might think,’ said Clath eagerly. ‘Since we started doing research on ember-warp vacuum states, we have a much better idea of how curvons work. The first thing you have to ask yourself is how spatial quasiparticles could ever climb through an event horizon in the first place. Old-style GR won’t permit it. And that puts constraints on how gravity has to work, and what the structure of a black hole has to be like. Basically, your Planck-length spatial network has to contain extra curvature information that baryonic matter can’t touch. And inside a black hole—’
‘In any case,’ said Mark quickly, ‘it’s very likely that the Zone is a narrow membrane between two regions of curvon-rich space.’ The briefing was already proving difficult enough without it dissolving into a physics lecture.
‘Then why isn’t it moving?’ said Ann without looking at him. ‘If Doctor Ataro is right and it’s all down to the black hole, where’s the spin? How come the Zone isn’t racing through space like a grit storm? How come we have navigable space at all?’
‘We don’t know,’ said Clath. ‘That’s a limitation of the approach, I admit – it only works if we presume a central galactic mas
s with almost no angular momentum, which we know isn’t the case. But the curvon-density patterns we observe reflect that model anyway.’
‘We’ve studied this,’ said Mark, ‘and the drop-off is consistent no matter which fissure we explore. We wouldn’t be going if we thought this was an issue.’
Ann snorted. ‘Your lack of a consistent scientific model is entirely reassuring.’
‘What about alien threats?’ said Judj.
‘Our telescopes see no evidence of warp-light in that region of space,’ said Mark. ‘Besides the lure star, there’s absolutely no evidence of interstellar activity.’
‘Unless they’re using tau-chargers to cover their tracks,’ said Judj.
‘All of them? On every flight?’ said Mark tersely. ‘Whoever they are supposed to be? Look, the situational modelling on Backspace has been studied for years. We see a twenty per cent chance of ruins like those of the Fecund, a twenty per cent likelihood of managed territory for some new species that’s still evolving, and a fifty per cent likelihood of nothing at all – space empty of life. That’s the most credible scenario by far.’
‘What about the last ten per cent?’ said Judj. ‘You’ve only given us ninety.’
Mark exhaled. This wasn’t the easiest crew he’d ever worked with.
‘We see a four per cent likelihood of a junior sentient race, hunter-gatherer or equivalent, a three per cent likelihood that the area is under direct Transcended ownership, and another three per cent likelihood that it’s already dominated by Photes.’
‘Photes?’ said Judj. ‘You’re saying they’ve been exploring behind our backs?’
Mark shook his head. ‘No, I’m talking about space dominated by whatever race built Snakepit. Some other kind of Phote we haven’t seen yet.’
‘So, violently acquisitive aliens, then,’ said Ann. ‘With unknown technology.’
‘It’s unlikely,’ said Mark, bristling.
‘So everyone has comfortably dismissed the possibility that the Zone is there to protect us from someone else getting in rather than to stop us from getting out – is that right?’ Ann turned her predator’s gaze to meet his.
‘That’s right,’ said Mark levelly. ‘Because if the Zone is meant to protect us from Photes then it’s already fucking failed. And if there’s something worse out there, why aren’t they already here? That scenario doesn’t add up.’
Instead of receiving a committed crew for his mission, he appeared to have been locked in a shuttle with a bunch of military flameouts. Maybe the Academy had death in mind for him after all.
Palla broke the uncomfortable silence that followed.
‘In any case, you guys don’t have to worry about that kind of stuff,’ she said, ‘because I’m under orders to blow the ship if we encounter an existential threat. I’d focus on the problems we do know about if I were you.’
‘Okay,’ said Mark, rolling his shoulders. ‘It works like this. Once we’re through, we head for the lure star. We use the far gate to access the lower shell, and then we head back towards the Alpha Flaw, closer to the galactic core.’
‘Presuming that the far gate leads to the same shells,’ said Ann.
‘Yes,’ Mark snapped. ‘Presuming that. Then we head back through the Flaw under stealth and make straight for Snakepit.’
‘So we make the most dangerous crossing in known space twice.’
‘Yes, Ann. Twice,’ said Mark. ‘We don’t have a choice unless we want to stay in Backspace for ever. From the Alpha Flaw, the trip over to Snakepit is just a few days.’
‘So long as there aren’t any blockades,’ Ann put in.
‘Why would the Photes be blockading space they already control?’ said Mark. ‘You think they like doing that shit?’
‘The Photes always blockade worlds of military value, regardless of their activity level,’ Ann said, ‘and activity scales non-linearly with strategic relevance. They don’t control Snakepit. Therefore it will be blocked.’
‘Except we also know Snakepit isn’t generating interstellar traffic because we’d be able to tell if it was,’ Mark replied. ‘So blockades aren’t actually that likely because they’d constitute a misapplication of resources.’
‘You assume.’
‘Anyhow,’ said Mark. ‘Once we get to Snakepit, we improvise.’ Mark waited for the inevitable critique but Ann said nothing. ‘Then, depending on our findings, we either make our way back via the same route or we establish a remote defensive site.’
‘Or we die,’ said Ann.
‘Yes!’ Mark shouted. ‘We might die! Do you have a problem with that?’
Ann emitted a sudden, chilling laugh like a crazed angel. There was something in the sound of it that made Mark immediately want to be somewhere else.
‘Oh no, Mark,’ said Ann. ‘I’m only trying to figure out whether it’s worth taking your plan seriously, that’s all. Just weighing the options.’
‘Options for what?’ Mark spat. His hands shook. ‘Do you know what that sounds like to me, Ann? It sounds like more robotic Galatean threat assessment. That shit’s killing us, in case you hadn’t noticed. In this entire war we’ve never once shown any human initiative. We’ve been too confused and too scared.’ He stabbed a finger at her. ‘I’ve never once pushed my talents to the limit in this fight and neither have you.’
Her mirth evaporated. ‘What about Earth?’ she growled.
‘That was laziness, pure and simple,’ Mark snapped back. ‘Your laziness and mine.’
Ann’s fingers hovered around the clip on her seat as if she was considering unbuckling and coming over there to ram a fist through his face. Mark held her gaze.
‘That’s what happens when people like you and me just take fucking orders and don’t do something different, Ann. You know why I think we’re here?’ he said, glancing at Palla. ‘I think we’re rejects. I think we’ve shown that we’re a piss-poor fit for what this fight has turned into and we’re being given one last chance to redeem ourselves. And if the odds of success are shitty, well, guess what – tough luck on us because those are the odds we get. It’s better than watching the whole damned race go extinct while we sit on our thumbs doing nothing about it.’
‘It’s funny you should say that,’ said Palla quietly. She smiled and examined her fingers.
Mark’s head whipped around to face her. ‘What’s funny?’
‘I mean, you’re basically right,’ she said. ‘We’ve all been deemed disposable. You don’t wind up on a mission like this otherwise. But the Zone is the least of our worries. You see, we’re under orders to use trad-warp as far as the boundary.’
Mark blinked at her. Ember-warp was how you got places fast. Stealth-warp was how you crept around without getting spotted. Trad-warp was good old-fashioned vanilla warp-drive, neither fastest, nor quietest. You used it when you didn’t have any other options.
‘That’ll draw Photes like flies to shit,’ he said, his expression clouding.
‘I expect so,’ said Palla breezily. ‘Particularly given that a mission plan has already been leaked to suspected spies.’
Mark had guessed that the mission would have a subtext, but being human bait hadn’t occurred to him. They weren’t going to explore Backspace. They were going to trick as many Photes into following them as they could.
He suddenly started to feel cheated and stupid. No wonder everyone around him was so bitter. Barring Clath, the rest of them probably didn’t expect to see the other side of the Flaw. His desire to take on the mission had blinded him to the obvious.
‘By distracting the Photes, we give Earth’s population a better chance,’ said Palla.
Mark glowered at her. ‘So I get my mission in return for sucking down the might of the entire fucking Utopia against us.’
‘Like you said,’ said Palla, ‘those are the odds we get. Though to be honest, compared to the risk profile for the rest of the mission, this is small potatoes.’
He’d been set up to fail. The ship was full of
military icons for the simple reason that it made a bigger, juicier target for the Photes to run at. Zoe wasn’t aboard because she was too valuable as a research scientist. They didn’t need her to die. Mark breathed deep and struggled to reframe the news.
He nodded to Palla. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘So it’s a race against time. We’re committed now, and at least we know what we’re in for. Galatea wants us to solve their blockade problem for them, and in return we get a chance to make a difference. I can work with that.’
‘Just so you know,’ said Palla, ‘the Academy doesn’t take this sacrifice lightly. It might look like a raw deal, but they need us out there.’
‘If they need us to die,’ said Mark, ‘they’re going to be disappointed. I don’t intend to.’
Palla shook her head. ‘It’s not like that, and I guess there’s no harm in telling you now. They’ve put the population of Earth on a concealed orbital in a protoplanetary disc.’
‘What?’ said Clath. She looked horrified. ‘That’s crazy!’
‘Why?’ said Mark. ‘I can’t think of anywhere more likely to kill them.’ Protoplanetary discs were star systems where planets were still undergoing violent formation. It was like trying to hide eggs in a running blender.
‘Because there was nowhere else to put them,’ said Palla. ‘By the time we tracked down the spy network Ambassador Shue spawned, we realised the Photes were on to our population-rehousing plans. We had to improvise fast and put our big bucket of coma-cases somewhere the Photes would never look for them. Without rescue, those people will last another six months tops before the habitat is mashed by random impacts. Our actions will give the Fleet a chance to move them, and they need help fast. The more flies we draw, the better their chances are.’
Everyone sat in silence while that reality settled in.
‘Usually when I risk everything to save others, I get to volunteer first,’ said Mark. ‘But under the circumstances, this’ll do.’
‘My take exactly,’ said Palla. ‘It sucks to be handed the short straw, but I can’t pretend it’s not a decent cause. And besides, if we do make it to Snakepit, it’ll really mess up the Photes, and there’s nothing I’d enjoy more.’
