Parallel Extinction (Extinction Encounters Book 1)

by T. R. Stevens

  Garrison was of a different opinion, and wanted to go back to Eighre Masc, figuring it to be the nearest barely habitable destination. They were going to have to do their search in the slower manner of standard engine travel if they did not want to risk overlooking the Medallion, which was possibly as much as three days ahead of them.

  They finally agreed to go toward Eighre Masc, since it was closer. Garrison felt better despite the missing ship—the fact that it wasn’t here said it was on the move. He chose to hold it as a good sign.

  The QB1 had been piloting itself along a course, in search mode, for a day. The small crew discussed other things.

  The standard encoded broadcast from Center had become singly focused on them. It repeated, “Quantum Butterfly, if you can respond… QB1, please relay coordinates… Quantum Butterfly, please relay coordinates along with the Medallion’s, if available.” They had the volume in the cramped cabin turned to just audible. The more-impacted Wheel Station survivor was resting again in the sleep cubby; Gazelle reclined on Garrison’s flight couch with her eyes closed, but awake.

  Dominique, Bartell, and the doctor were gathered around Dominique’s couch, wrapped up in a conversation that included the ghosts—a briefing on the results of the big surprise by “the departed” and how it impacted the rest of the population across the system.

  “… part of the intention of the manifestation was the idea of bringing a sudden mass-consciousness of these Elementals’ existence to the humans who had become their food source. Even the higher echelons of intelligence could not say what impact this would have, but it was hoped it would reinforce higher intentions, and be one of mitigating future attacks. The idea was that an intense, mass-focus like this could have an impact on the collective reality of the minds of humans, transcending boundaries of space and time, just as these creatures are able to do. Somehow transcending a communication boundary…” As usual, Garrison struggled with the message relay. It seemed perplexing enough without Comani’s fumbling paraphrase, but Dominique just sat and nodded at everything he said, as if she understood completely. Garrison wasn’t saying much, just watching Dominique, distracted by what might happen to her in the next number of hours.

  It was Gazelle who noticed the change as she listened with half-an-ear to the conversation. “Captains, they are broadcasting an additional message.”

  All three turned their heads, Garrison already moving a step to wave at the console.

  The volume rose as it repeated again. “…Admiral Sumner, temporary commanding officer for Dock Toroid Alpha… QB1, this is a message from Admiral Sumner, temporary commanding officer for Dock Toroid Alpha. Message confirmation signature, omega, nine, nine, delta, five, one, one, Charlie, Charlie.” Dominique keyed in the sequence, and nodded to Garrison that it checked out. The message went on, “Admiral Swan has been relieved of his post and resides in the brig. We have information to suggest that you are receiving this broadcast, and are likely able to respond. We are aware of former Admiral Swan’s intentions surrounding the hazards of this mission. The hazards are real, as you may already know, but the situation has become much more severe. Our data indicates that you may be the only hope for many stranded ships and spacers on various outposts.

  “Under the circumstances, your radio silence is understood and forgiven. Now, with the assurance that no actions will be taken against you for this ‘breach in protocol’,” the term ‘mutiny’ was not used, “we request that you reestablish communications immediately.” The final request was an order, there was no doubt, and wavering on following that order was not going to end in their favor. The captains simply nodded to each other and waved open the frequency.

  Garrison looked at Dominique, bowing ever so slightly to indicate she should make the first contact as the overriding authority on the ship. She smiled at him for his acknowledgement.

  “Center, this is Captain Astra of the QB1,” she gave her own code, “we do have transmission ability. I would like to immediately report on the situation at the Celestial Wheel station.” She glanced over at Gazelle, knowing that overhearing her report was going to be a painful reminder.

  “Acknowledged, Captain Astra, go ahead.”

  She kept it brief. “We have two survivors. I will transmit the report.”

  There was a long pause on Center’s end, then, “Are you at the station site now?”

  “Negative, we are searching for the Medallion near its last known coordinates.”

  “Captain Astra, your transmission is clear, but would you please confirm; you have said that you have been to Celestial Wheel, and now you are near the original incursion site?”

  Again, wordless smiles passed between the captains. “Yes, affirmative, that is exactly correct. I’ll send a further report on the events between sites. Will you go ahead with the message regarding us, or the QB1, as being the ‘only hope’?”

  “Yes, you should be receiving the transmission now.” As he spoke, there was a flashing and audible signal from the order locker, which then opened of its own accord for either captain to access.

  Dominique was closer and retrieved it. One of the standard zephyr vellum blanks had been loaded with a vid-data package this time; it stiffened the bio-polymer sheet. When she thumbed the icon in the corner of the static black frame-graphic inked around the vellum’s border, a pre-recorded 2D vid began within the rectangle. It was the shoulders and head of Admiral Sumner, rugged and weathered by his normally terrestrial environment. Garrison leaned across the flight couch as Dominique turned to allow him a good view.

  He shared some critical information that had not been previously broadcast in the chatter. All freqs, to all interstellar ships and stations, had gone dead with near simultaneity. The last bit of transmission that Center Comm had received from the Medallion was that they were suffering an attack just as had the Seeker, but that they hoped to capture the force with a containment trap, which they had been able to construct from plans they’d been sent. Because of comm loss, the outcome was unknown.

  As the admiral’s report revealed this, Dominique looked to Garrison. His face was pale; his friend was aboard the Medallion. Taylor. She, too, knew people aboard the Medallion. Friends.

  She paused the playback and offered, “They may have contained it, as he said.”

  He gave a slight nod, keeping his mask of repressed concern.

  She restarted the report vid, and the admiral went on to explain a bit more about Swan, and his insubordination and dereliction of duty in the face of an immediate crisis.

  Then he dropped another bombshell. Toroid Alpha and the Targeting Laser Rings had had to fire upon and destroy the Rapscallion as it had cruised back in-system, hyper-velocity and non-responsive, and heading straight for the station, threatening Earth as well.

  Dominique paused the report once again, as she now reeled from the information. The report did not give specifics of the crew, just that the investigation was still underway. She had served aboard the Rapscallion at times in her career; she knew Captain Renny and many of that crew, personally.

  Both of the captains had deep feelings and concerns buffeting them. The question of the Medallion would hopefully soon be answered, for better or worse. Finally, she went on with the end of the report. Essentially, it gave them an assignment—retrieve Quilliam Spence from the far reaches of the quadrant.

  As ordered by the admiral at the end of the report, she contacted Center again. This time full holo-vid response came back: the same face that they had been staring at moments before. “Captain Astra, Captain Bartell,” he acknowledged, “what is your present status?”

  “Admiral Sumner,” she acknowledged. Garrison gave a “Sir” for his response. Dominique continued, “We are flying into what we hope to be the Medallion’s coordinate space, following the hunch that they would be making for the nearest possibility for life support, the planet Eighre Masc. We’ll hopefully be in
sensor range shortly. We are glad to hear that they may have been able to contain an Elemental; we have something of a plan of action that comes with quite an unbelievable story. I have prepared this in a report and summary that I will forward with the other two. I understand the request for obtaining Lt. Spence; I feel that the plan that we are hoping to attempt should be undertaken as priority, and then, with success, we and others may have safer passage through the galaxy.” With difficulty, she held off asking about the Rapscallion.

  “We have been informed, by the…” she hesitated, hoping Sumner had reference for what she was about to say, “…the ghosts, regarding Mister Spence and the nature of his connection to this ship. With your report, we fully realize the imperative need to establish a new paradigm for interstellar travel.”

  “Yes, Quilliam Spence… well, yes… ghosts.” Sumner seemed slightly at a loss as to how to respond, as if he didn’t believe his own experience. “Did… your ghosts say what it is that Lt. Spence is going to do for us?”

  “No sir, it’s all a bit “out there,” even for the ghosts. Things are happening on other levels that no one understands.”

  “I want your report on this plan of action that you mentioned, immediately. I can respond to your request for the delay after I’ve seen that.”

  Dominique was thrilled at the news of Swan’s arrest; she had hoped something like this might come to pass. She had prepared a report on what they were planning to attempt, for just this type of reversal of fortune. She waved a finger motion to the board and said, “You should have the report now.”

  Sumner turned and looked at someone out of view and was handed something. His floating-head image looked down as he took in the report. “Give me a moment,” he mumbled rhetorically.

  Dominique was worried that it would be a flat-out refusal, as she tried to read his face. The report was filled with mumbo-jumbo: higher intelligences, ghosts, and Astra herself playing the pivotal role in what might be a deadly experiment.

  As he came to that part, Sumner looked up, directly into her eyes. She held his holo-gaze, as he said nothing, scrutinizing her. After a moment he looked back down to the report and finished it.

  “A moment more,” he said, as the sound muted. He turned back to someone that she could partially see in the image, an older, eccentric looking man. They had a brief chat. Sumner came back to his meeting with them. “I am being advised that I should let you go through with this, though, were it up to me, and these were things that I understood, my answer might have been ‘no’. But I am out of my depth here. Right now your collected crew aboard that ship has more direct experience than this entire station. I hope for Humanity’s sake that you can do your experiment, and that our good Captain Sparks has shown his typical capability and has survived this catastrophe.

  “Call me as soon as you have any report on the Medallion. Sumner out.” The holo faded.

  CHAPTER 87

  EVENT: DAY 21, 1800 UT

  “We are not omnipresent.”

  Dominique had quizzed the ghosts as to why they had not shared any knowledge of the fate of the Rapscallion with them, and also quizzed them as to whether they might have an insight into the whereabouts and condition of the Medallion.

  Through Gazelle, and out of hearing of Garrison as he took a turn at rest in the cubby, they told her: Things here are much the same as in life; communication does not always find its way to the right persons at the right moment. What we can say is that, of the many thousands of normal crossovers, no new ghosts have sought out any of us who are involved in the actions around the Elementals. That probably means good news for the Medallion, possibly the Rapscallion. We can seek word on the fates of the ships.”

  Further conversation with Center Comm had brought out the thing that she’d had difficulty asking about: Renny and his crew were not the ones aboard when the Rapscallion was shot down. She had not been given more details beyond this, but that was enough to lift the burden for the better part. Gazelle’s conveyance of the comment about the Medallion also had given Dominique additional relief for her own concerns; Jon Sparks was a personal friend.

  She chose not share the optimistic comment with Garrison—she did not want to chance giving him false hopes.

  “There they are!” Dominique had been scrutinizing the display for two hours, and overwhelming relief crashed into her like an ocean wave. The QB1’s long-range sensors were better than any other vessel in the fleet. They picked up the Medallion before it could see them. Even at this distance, the mysterious capabilities of the little ship made instantaneous two-way communication possible, once they had a coordinate.

  Garrison came rapidly out of the sleep cubby at the sound of her shout.

  When the freq opened in response to their greeting, not only was the QB1’s small crew relieved to hear the human response, but there was a clear cheering from the background to say that there were many happy people aboard the ship still.

  Keeping initial hailing to a minimum, Garrison brought forward the question that had been haunting him for the past days. “Taylor Jest is aboard your ship, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, Captain.” It was Sparks, patched through from his quarters. “She is aboard.”

  Garrison heard something in Sparks’ voice that caused his stomach to clench. His throat abruptly closed, choking off the next question that he needed to ask.

  Dominique deftly stepped in for him. “Please Jon, can you say something specific; Captain Bartell is a close friend of Ms. Jest?”

  Sparks had not known of a connection between Bartell and Taylor but quickly saw that he needed to be sensitive. “It would be best if we talked in person…”

  Garrison was pitched about by his desire for relief and feelings of doom as they collided. It made it difficult for him to have a further conversation. He had no assurance that she was okay. He’d met Sparks before; the man spoke plainly. He forced the words out, “Sparks, I… I have to know what’s wrong.” She’s hurt. That was it; he tried to convince himself of what Sparks’ next words would be.

  The line was quiet too long though; Garrison couldn’t stand it. He startled the small gathering of flight companions around him. “DAMMIT, SPARKS, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?”

  “I’m sorry Captain, she put herself in harm’s way. There was an accident. Her body is in stasis.”

  Bartell’s world wavered dizzily. He had trouble getting a breath. Her body… the words echoed in his head brutally.

  Dominique’s tongue was between her teeth as she searched for a word to say. She reached out a hand, resting it on his shoulder. Numbly he turned away from her, slid out from under her touch, and closed himself in the sleep cubby.

  The line from the Medallion remained silent, waiting.

  She spoke to the comm. “We will fly into your docking bay, if it’s ready to receive us.”

  CHAPTER 88

  EVENT: DAY 22, 1900 UT

  The thought of seeing Taylor’s lifeless body in the stasis bed was beyond conceivable to him.

  After a subdued welcome from Sparks, Garrison found that he could not accept Taylor’s “condition.” He had retreated back into the QB1, feeling a kind of comfort in its confines as it sat inside the vast hanger bay of the Medallion.

  After some private grieving time, the weight of the bigger question forced him out to meet the small group assembled in the bay.

  Dominique had filled Sparks in on the details of the plan, and put him in touch with the Admiral, using the comm devices of the QB1 patched through the Medallion’s console.

  Garrison, meanwhile, pulled himself together, but was extremely nervous about what was to come. More so now than before, since Doctor Comani had told them both sides of his story. It had been seriously dark for him in the beginning, barely holding on to his sanity.

  Everything was riding on this effort. Everything.

  With the help of a schematic
that Medallion’s engineers had created, further modifying the one that had been sent from Center, they’d wasted no time in the construction of an additional configuration. It used the Medallion’s own, now unoccupied, drive containment, and the second, unused trap, made from the pirate scow drive housing, which they had salvaged after the attack.

  When they were done, they had an open geodesic weave of walls, making a small room; a special, cramped sphere that consisted of a geometry of Gravity Rejectors, all pointing outward, and set to project two earth-gravities in all directions when turned on. Any Elemental who dared approach this barrier, whether from the inside or out, would find themselves quickly manifested into their solid state and trapped against the projector ansible catchments. The whole arrangement had been assembled in the hanger bay, surrounding a round platform. Upon this was secured a chair and the containment-sphere trap that held the crewman, and the Elemental that no longer possessed him.

  Captain Sparks had ultimately deemed it to be the wisest course of action to keep the man in the confinement. They had been making a beeline for the nearest gravity well where a natural state of +1 gravities could be found. That had been his best idea for the welfare of his crew and the trapped man.

  The arrival of the QB1 brought this new proposal. Once the strange realities were explained, Sparks saw the warped logic in the plan. If he accepted all these things as fact, as he must, he saw the need of it. But it jeopardized his friend, Captain Astra.

  All concerns aside, this brilliant arrangement of the gravity devices meant a sooner release for the soldier. He would already be malnourished when he got out; it had been days.

  The Medallion had maneuvered to sit behind Eighre Masc, obtaining the best possible shadow position for space radiation due to shield interference while the Rejector cage was in use.