by Alex Lamb
‘Prepare for immediate warp-scatter manoeuvres,’ said Ira. ‘Amy, I need a flight pattern.’
‘I can’t give you one!’ she wailed. ‘Not if you want me to keep Will alive.’
‘Then forget it. Fleet standard will do. Hold on tight, everybody.’
He began the series of gut-wrenching course corrections required to disperse their warp trail. It was the only thing that would grant them any certainty of survival.
It was impossible to see who was after you in an FTL chase, but it was almost as difficult to do the chasing. Hang around long enough to see the radiation from your target and it meant he was already getting away. You could track him but never catch up as long as he changed course often enough. Unfortunately, that meant a fleeing ship had to make a violent change of direction at least once every five minutes to avoid being nailed. Let a pursuit drone get too close and he’d close on you from sheer spatial distortion.
Gravity swatted Ira sideways against the wall of his bunk, knocking the wind from his lungs. He gasped in surprise and reluctantly reduced the extra burn he was putting into the drives. If that turn had knocked the wind out of him, he hated to think what it had done to Will.
Fifteen minutes of body-busting course alterations later, they were outside the drones’ flight range and still alive. The probability of pursuit had dropped to negligible levels.
‘We’re clear,’ Ira breathed.
Clapping and nervous laughter broke out in the cabin.
‘Okay,’ he said, ‘Amy, set a course for home whenever you can make it.’
Ira wasn’t kidding himself that the danger was over. Ulanu would have drones ready to intercept him on all the most likely flight vectors. It was normally impossible to catch up with someone in deep space, but with the bottleneck of the Penfield Lobe to pass through, there were no guarantees.
Rachel spoke up. ‘Captain, if the heat is off, we have some serious buffer damage to attend to. And without robot support, it’s going to be hard to fix.’
‘Get on it. Hugo, you help her.’
Ira readied himself to quash Hugo’s inevitable complaint, but apparently the scientist had learned something from the last few hours. All Ira heard in reply was a slightly sullen, ‘Yes, sir.’
With the crew at work, he set about trying to train a SAP to predict Ulanu’s likely ambush points. The work was cumbersome, and Ira began to realise how stupid it would have been to leave Will on St Andrews – even a vulnerable roboteer was better than no roboteer at all.
So engrossed was he in the tricky programming that he jumped when an alarm sounded from the flight-management subsystem. He glanced across at their vector and saw that it had changed dramatically without his intervention. Furthermore, they were losing speed fast.
His skin prickled. What was this – more alien trickery?
‘Amy, what the hell’s happening?’ he said.
Amy’s answer was a string of obscenities. ‘We’re not compensating for shell curvature,’ she explained furiously.
‘Why not?’ said Ira. ‘Didn’t you give me an algorithm for that when we hit the lobe?’
‘Yes, of course! I don’t know why it’s not—’ Then she let out a wail of despair.
‘What?’ Ira demanded.
‘We swapped shells,’ she said miserably. ‘It must have been your warp-scatter manoeuvres. With the curvon gradient being so steep up here, all those bursts of conventional acceleration jumped us to a different level.’
‘Can we compensate?’ He glanced across at her. Her brow was a mess of worried lines.
‘Hold on.’ She tapped furiously at her keyboard and then reached up to seize her pigtails in anxious hands. ‘We’re on a closed shell!’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means we’re deeper into the lobe. We’re not orbiting the galactic core any more – we’re essentially in orbit around the black hole. If we keep going this way, we’ll head straight back to the place where the enemy is waiting for us.’
Ira stifled a moan of frustration. He wondered if Ulanu was bothering to expend energy trying to follow them.
‘So we change course,’ he said.
‘That won’t help,’ said Amy. ‘We have to return to the thinnest part of this shell just to get off it, otherwise we’ll keep going in circles for ever.’
Ira took a deep breath. If straight back into the jaws of their enemy was where they had to go, then so be it.
‘Set a course for that crossover point,’ he ordered. ‘We’ll take whatever Ulanu thinks he can throw at us.’
He pointed his ship back towards trouble.
8.3: GUSTAV
‘Sir!’ said the soldier sitting at the astrogation desk. ‘We’ve analysed the Gallies’ exit vector – they’re trapped in the lobe.’ He smiled smugly. ‘Shall I send ships after them?’
‘No,’ Gustav said, shaking his head reluctantly. It was a hard order to give after the humiliations of the last few hours, particularly after the remarks he’d had to endure from Rodriguez when the Gallies slipped through his fingers.
‘Why not?’ the disciple drawled. ‘Afraid we’ll actually catch them?’
Gustav rounded on him. ‘I’m not chasing them because there’s no point. The Gallies will be expecting it. And furthermore because it would be a waste of our resources.’
Rodriguez’s nostrils flared. ‘You call keeping the Prophet’s secrets a waste?’
‘What do you actually know about warp battles, Father?’ Gustav snapped. ‘Chasing people with FTL is like running around in fog. You can’t see a damned thing. You can only catch the person you’re chasing if they happen to brush past you.’ He pointed a furious finger at one of the wall displays. ‘Do you know what that means?’
Rodriguez set his jaw. ‘If you think to belittle me by asking—’
‘It’s a map of their exhaust-radiation profile. They over-burned their engines to get out of here. We know they can’t have fuelled since before Zuni, which means that for a ship that size, they have to be running low. What’s more, their captain just made a stupid mistake that wasted even more of his antimatter and plenty of time. He’s given us the opportunity to put every antimatter factory for light-years around on high alert. By the time he gets off the lobe, he’ll be desperate. He’ll either die in space, or he’ll come to us.’
Gustav turned back to the desk. ‘Comms officer,’ he snapped.
‘Sir!’
‘Instruct Captain Wahid of the Gaza to head for Zuni immediately with new orders for Admiral Tang. He is to alert every fuelling star within sixty lights to look out for unscheduled stops, regardless of their apparent security clearance. He is to tell them that …’ Gustav struggled for a suitable excuse. He certainly couldn’t afford to tell the truth. ‘That we have found a Gallie thief-ship involved in a Galatean plot to kill the Prophet. The ship has stolen information critical to the Prophet’s security and may attempt to pass through their system with false clearance information. Tang is instructed to use the operational subset of the Zuni fleet to mark every potential Galatean fuelling star within the same region. The Gaza will act as flagship with Wahid in command. Tang is to remain at Zuni to fit the stockpiled suntaps to the remaining ships.’
The last thing Gustav wanted was to give Tang an excuse to play with his fleet. Better to keep him pinned down at Zuni with something to do.
‘Sir,’ said the comms officer, and strode out of the room towards the secure channel booth.
Tang would hate ships being taken away from his precious assault force, but he’d have to cope. The Gallies simply could not be allowed to return home. Whatever they’d done to the Relic, it had killed the Earthers’ feed in such a way that Gustav’s team was at a loss as to how to retrieve it. The alien world had fallen silent for the first time in two years. Gustav’s gut tightened again at the thought.
Analysis of his ship’s slowly rebooting computers had shown Gustav evidence of a message being passed to the intruders that was petabytes in
size. With ten minutes’ access, his enemies had achieved something with the Relic that his team had never come close to. That gave the advantage firmly back to the Galateans – an intolerable situation. Who knew what super-weapons they’d been given? He felt sick with envy. And with that feeling came a change of heart.
‘Astrogation!’ he barked.
‘Sir!’
‘Contact the Saladin. Tell them to lay in a slow pursuit course after the intruder. They don’t have to catch the Gallies, just follow them.’
Finding where someone had been in warp after the fact was a lot easier than trying to keep up. Remote telescope drones could detect warp flashes for days after a ship had left. And warp always left a radiation trail of some sort, even with stealth technology.
‘Make sure they don’t get away,’ he added. Better safe than sorry.
Surprisingly, Rodriguez didn’t bother taking a swipe at him for issuing that order. Gustav glanced around to see what the disciple had to say for himself, but to his surprise the man had gone. Gustav frowned. What prompted that? he wondered. Nevertheless, he was grateful for the peace the disciple’s departure brought. He returned his eyes to the board.
It was only a matter of time now. Then the Gallie ship would be in his grasp, and with luck, so would the secrets of the Relic.
8.4: WILL
Like a body dropped in cold water, Will came awake. He found himself back in the muscle-tank, where he’d been before the whole alien incursion started. Desperate with relief, he commanded the tank to drain its gel and free him. Dragging his limbs out of the confinement of the box was wonderful, though his body ached as if it had been soundly beaten. But he was back, and that was what counted.
He emerged to the sound of shouting. Ira was swearing at the top of his lungs.
‘It’s no good,’ said Rachel. ‘The buffers just can’t be fixed out here. Unless we can get to a safe repair site, we’re all going to die of radiation poisoning before we make it home. We can’t even effect decent temporary repairs without proper working SAPs. But that’s not the worst of it.’
‘Dear God!’ said Ira. ‘What else is there?’
‘We’re also low on fuel.’
‘She’s right,’ said Amy. ‘Our detour around the shell has put Li-Delamir just out of our range.’
‘Shit!’ roared Ira. ‘Shit! Shit! Shit!’
‘As far as I can tell,’ she added. ‘the only system close enough for us to fuel at is Zuni-Dehel.’
‘That’s great,’ John interjected. ‘We just walk right into our enemies’ hands. Hands up who likes torture.’
‘Enough, John,’ Ira barked. ‘If I want your wit, I’ll ask for it.’
Will listened with mounting alarm. What could have happened while he was unconscious? How long had he been out of the loop? And where in hell were they now?
He consulted the ship. Apparently, they were some distance out from Ulanu’s secret system and stalled in space. Amazingly, just hours had passed since their brush with the alien data feed. He also learned that Amy’s estimate was right – there was nowhere safe to refuel that was close enough to reach. In other words, they were trapped, dead and they’d lost Galatea the war. No wonder Ira was tense.
He smiled bitterly to himself. Here was one problem that the brilliant Transcended had failed to anticipate: that he’d be dead before he got the chance to take their stupid test.
But as he thought of the Transcended, something odd happened in his head. A memory surfaced in his mind like a chess piece being deposited on a board. There was somewhere they could go. Somewhere they should go, in fact. Somewhere very important.
‘I know a place,’ he croaked. His throat was raw, for some reason. It hurt to speak.
All the heads in the cabin whipped around to face him. Their astonishment was clear.
‘Will?’ said Amy incredulously.
‘You’re back!’ Rachel broke into a smile of relief.
Ira just looked worried. ‘What did you say?’ he asked quietly.
‘I have a vector,’ said Will. ‘I know a place where we can fix the buffers. Maybe even get fuel.’
Ira’s eyes narrowed. ‘Where?’
Will passed the coordinates from his interface straight to Ira’s visor. He watched as the captain’s eyes scanned the information.
‘This star isn’t on our shell,’ said Ira flatly. ‘This is uncharted territory.’
Will nodded. ‘I know.’
Hugo spoke up. ‘Then how do you—’
Ira motioned him to silence. His face was grave. ‘Are you positive about this?’ His eyes bored into Will’s.
‘Yes, sir,’ Will croaked. ‘The aliens, they … spoke to me.’
Will watched Hugo’s eyes go round like dinner plates as a pained, jealous look entered them. It occurred to Will then that his experience was going to take no small amount of explanation.
‘And you trust them,’ said Ira sceptically.
Will nodded. ‘I … I think so. I mean, I see no reason for them to send us into the middle of nowhere when we’re just as likely to die here.’
‘How about to take over our brains?’ John remarked dryly.
Will grimaced. ‘I don’t think …’ Then he ran out of words. After all, wasn’t that exactly what had happened to him? ‘I believe they could have done that here if they’d wanted to,’ he said. ‘That’s not what they’re about.’
‘Do we have much choice?’ said Rachel. ‘It’s this or Zuni.’
Ira rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger. When he looked up again, his face was full of grim resolve. ‘I expect a full report,’ he said, eyeing Will wearily.
‘Yes, sir.’
The captain turned to his first officer. ‘Amy, take a look at this course and set us up.’
‘Will do.’
‘Then take a look at our roboteer,’ he added. ‘If he’s well enough, Rachel could use a hand.’
‘I’m fine, sir,’ said Will.
Ira regarded him uncertainly. ‘The ship’s doctor will be the judge of that. In the meantime, I want you to start that report.’
Will nodded. ‘Okay, sir.’
As he turned back to his bunk, he couldn’t help but notice the uneasy way the crew looked at him. He didn’t blame them. In their place, he’d be doing the same thing.
9: UNCHARTED TERRITORY
9.1: WILL
Amy finished checking Will over and stepped back from his bunk.
‘I don’t get it,’ she said, scanning the information in her visor. ‘You appear to be fine. The level of virus in your blood is way down, though I don’t see any evidence of antibodies at work. It’s like the infection just gave up.’
She didn’t sound particularly pleased about it, and Will could understand that. It was one more mystery of the alien assault. And no one was more unsettled about that than he was.
‘How do you feel?’ said Amy, peering at him.
‘Fine,’ he replied. ‘Physically, at least. A bit bruised, and my throat is raw, but otherwise normal.’
‘And mentally?’
Will was sure she meant the question kindly, but he didn’t like the way it sounded.
‘Just nervous,’ he replied, a little curtly. ‘An alien took over my brain. As far as I know, it’s still in there. How do you think I feel?’
Amy winced. ‘Sorry.’
‘Hey, Will,’ said Ira. ‘You finished that report?’
Will glanced inwards at his home node where he’d been hurriedly writing his transcript while Amy ran her tests. It was a clumsy piece of text, but he doubted Ira was much interested in fine writing at this point.
‘Yes, sir,’ he said. ‘What would you like me to do with it?’
‘Just put it in the public space. We’ll all take a look.’
Will would have preferred the captain to read it himself first. Cut down into bullet-point form, his experience with the Transcended made for melodramatic reading. The end of humanity, galactic gardening, billion-year programm
es – it was a lot to take in. Reluctantly, he reached into his home node and transferred the file to the Ariel’s public domain. Then he lay back on his bunk and waited for the inevitable questions.
John was the first to make his feelings known, which he did by bursting into laughter.
‘Oh my God!’ he exclaimed. ‘Will, are you serious? They actually said all this shit?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Will tersely.
‘Well, hey, the nano really hit the fan-o this time! Looks like the whole future of the human race just landed in our lap. Gotta love that sense of destiny.’
It didn’t sound like he believed it for a minute.
‘Cut it out!’ Rachel told him sharply.
Hugo, meanwhile, was making quiet plosive noises as he read. Will could see the man was mesmerised by the text. Then, abruptly, he turned and fixed Will with an urgent if slightly wounded stare.
‘This must have been a very unique experience,’ he said woodenly.
‘It was frightening for the most part,’ Will replied.
‘Did the Transcended say anything about how they manipulate stars?’
Will shook his head. ‘No.’
‘Did they mention anything about particle resonance? Or collapsed-matter states?’
Will shifted uncomfortably. ‘It wasn’t really a technical discussion.’
‘Why not?’ Hugo demanded suddenly. ‘You talked to them – you could have made it one. You could have asked them anything!’
‘I was too busy finding out about the end of mankind,’ Will retorted. He wasn’t in the mood for one of Hugo’s rants right now.
‘If I’d been given the chance—’ said Hugo, his voice trembling.
Ira interrupted. ‘Will,’ he said.
Hugo fell silent.
‘Yes, sir,’ said Will.
‘You’re convinced of the sincerity of this … alien.’
Will took a deep breath. ‘I know it’s a lot to swallow, sir, but I don’t think they’ve got any reason to lie.’
‘Oh, come on!’ John said with a laugh.
‘Quiet!’ Ira snapped. ‘Go on, Will’
Will searched for the words. ‘I mean, they’ve proved they have the power. They made the suntap and the star back there. Who’s to say they can’t do the rest of it?’
