Starhold

by J. Alan Field

  Goran nodded. “Remember that the original Threshold sent us across both space and time. Our Otherverse, as you call it, was two centuries ahead of the time here in this universe. Our humanity had explored a much larger area of the galaxy than you have.”

  “And you found something,” said Pettigrew.

  “Or it found us—we’re not sure. We don’t even know who or what they are. We call them the Adversary. We’ve tried to communicate with them, but it’s clear they don’t want to talk with us. Every military force any government has ever sent against them has been annihilated. Colony worlds are simply erased, wiped from the surface of the planets they occupy. We’ve been fighting them for almost three decades now. Balasi says nearly half of all human worlds have been destroyed. In my native universe, these beings are conducting a slow, inexorable march across human space. The only thing saving us for the time being is that the Adversary is extremely deliberate and methodical, but even a tortoise reaches its destination eventually.”

  Goran paused to take a drink of water. The man was shaken just discussing it.

  “The Threshold was supposed to project us hundreds of light years away, to begin the process of relocating our people. Of course, you know what happened. It malfunctioned and we all found ourselves here. Until Sheel had it destroyed, the new plan was to use the Sol Threshold to relocate my people to this universe.”

  “The Rhuzari Empire—couldn’t they build another Threshold?” asked Pettigrew.

  “Not likely. The only person who even remotely understood the whole concept was Dr. Acree, and he was on the Threshold when it was destroyed. That and the fact that the original project nearly bankrupted the Empire. By the way,” Goran added, “the mighty Rhuzari Empire consists of two planets, and one of them is a desert wasteland.”

  “Goran, I’m sorry for your people, on the other side I mean,” said Carr. “But in a way, the Threshold malfunction that sent you here was a blessing in disguise. At least you’re safe now.”

  “No, he’s not,” said Sanchez. “Parallel universes. Two Earths. Two sets of humans…”

  “Two Adversaries,” finished Pettigrew, looking up as if casting his eyes toward the heavens. “And our aliens are out there somewhere.”

  “I have to warn your leaders,” said Goran earnestly. “We know the general region of space they came from in my universe and I would think it would be the same on this side. There’s also going to be the problem of unifying everyone.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Sanchez.

  “A single government can’t stand against these aliens. Humankind in this universe must unite if our descendants are to have any chance of survival.”

  Carr looked around at the others. “We have to unite humanity to work toward a common goal? Well, even with a two hundred year head start, we’re probably screwed.”

  * * * *

  The following day, Chaz Pettigrew and Uschi Mullenhoff accompanied Carr and Sanchez to Bakkoa. The chief reason for going dirtside was to retrieve the scout ship Kite from the outskirts of town. Since Pettigrew and Mullenhoff wanted to sightsee as well, the quartet borrowed a groundcar from the Government Compound for the day’s journey.

  As they moved through the city, Sanchez joked that she could give them a tour of the back alleys, which she and Carr knew quite well. By the time they had hit open country, Mullenhoff had decided that Pettigrew was a better starship captain than chauffeur.

  Both Pettigrew and Mullenhoff were amazed by the terraforming and the simple fact that they were really on planet Earth. Mullenhoff speculated that the tourist trade was going to be enormous. Carr wondered aloud how long it would take humans to mess up the planet again.

  They found Kite just as they had left her, and the ship welcomed its masters back reporting that all was well. Goran had promised that the craft had not been tampered with, despite Fleetmaster Balasi’s desire to send in an engineering team for what he called a “quick look around.”

  It was about 13:00 hours when the Sarissans walked to the small outcrop of rock Carr had found that first day on Earth, the one Sanchez said would be a good spot for a picnic. Before leaving town, they’d stopped at Mr. Annar’s grocery store and purchased food and wine with government vouchers, compliments of Governor Goran. Annar greeted them and was very pleasant, but he was evidently still under the impression that Carr and Sanchez were secret police.

  Sanchez was right about it being a perfect spot for a picnic. After lunch, the women went back to the ship. Engineer Mullenhoff wanted a peek under the hood of Kite and Pilot Sanchez was more than happy to oblige. The men kicked back to finish off the last of the wine.

  “Well, Chaz, since Goshawk is getting under way tomorrow, I’ll miss Admiral Sykes and the gang. Don’t let him pin too many medals on you at once, you might tip over,” Carr teased while doing a mock toast with his paper cup.

  Pettigrew finished his wine. “Medals? I’ll be lucky to keep my command. You do realize we lost something like eight percent of the Union fleet last week, don’t you?”

  “We both know it was a no-win situation. Honor the dead, Chaz, but also remember that there are nearly a thousand men and women up in space who are still alive today because of your leadership.”

  “And your schemes,” added Pettigrew, toasting back at his friend with an empty cup.

  “You think the government will go along with this alliance thing?”

  “Are you kidding?” Pettigrew laughed. “They’ll jump at the chance to upgrade to that tech and who could blame them?” Chaz paused and carefully placed his empty cup and used napkins in a trash bag. If humanity were going to trash up Earth again, they wouldn’t get Pettigrew’s help in doing it. “You do realize what’s going to happen though, don’t you?”

  Carr moved to take a seat on the ground and leaned back against the rock. “Yeah, the Gerrhans are going to be pissed, and so will a lot of the other starholds. They’re not going to just sit back and let the Union grab that kind of a tech edge.”

  “The whole thing’s a bloody war just waiting to happen. And then, there are those aliens. Just because the people in the Otherverse ran into them in the twenty-eighth century doesn’t mean we’re going to. What happens if we bump into each other sooner?”

  “OK, my friend, now you’re starting to depress me. Let’s just enjoy this nice, beautiful Earth day.”

  Pettigrew grabbed the bag of garbage, rose, and put his other hand into his pants pocket. The day was beautiful, but the autumn wind was chilling the air. The captain looked around at the pristine surroundings. “It’s all quite unbelievable. Humans from another universe, a massive space battle, the rejuvenation of Earth. Wait until the newsnets start telling this story back home.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Carr. “It’ll be a little bigger news than who won the Pan-Union Cup. They’re probably starved for a big story back on Sarissa.”

  Pettigrew and Mullenhoff went for a walk after lunch, while Sanchez returned to the place where Carr was relaxing, sitting down on the ground beside him.

  “Mind if I use some of your rock?” she asked, leaning back. Both of them sat for a while without speaking, until Sanchez worked up the nerve to say what was on her mind. “Governor Goran asked me to stay here in Bakkoa for a while, two months or so. He wants one of us to help mediate between him and Korab’s group so they can form a government.”

  “I know,” said Carr.

  “You know? How do you know?”

  He tilted his head sideways and looked at her. “I’m a spy, remember?”

  “Korab wants one of us to stay—he trusts us. I know you need to get back, to help your sister I mean, so I volunteered. I’ll return to Union space later in Kite. So…”

  The sun was bright, but the breeze was picking up and driving the temperature down. Leaves blew by them as Sanchez began to shiver. Carr sat forward, took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, along with his right arm. She closed her eyes and leaned against his shoulder. His left hand reache
d to take hers and he rested his head back against the rock, shutting his eyes as well.

  When Pettigrew and Mullenhoff returned, their friends were still at the rock. Pettigrew started to say something to them, but Mullenhoff silently grabbed his arm, wagged her index finger at him, and pulled him back in the direction of the groundcar.

  * * * *

  Back on Tempest the following morning, Sanchez entered Carr’s cabin and found him packing. He wouldn’t require much for his return journey home aboard the destroyer Goshawk, but there were a few necessary items: clothing, toiletries, and such.

  “You ready to head dirtside?” he asked, walking over to her.

  “Yeah, Kite’s refueled and waiting in the shuttlebay.” Clumsily, they stood facing each other, neither one of them certain how to say goodbye. She glanced over at the box near the wall. “Don’t forget to take the Dragoneer Vase,” she teased.

  “Yeah, I think I can remember it. Speaking of Goran’s gift, I keep wondering how much you had to do with that whole business.”

  “Honestly, it was Goran’s idea to give you the vase. Let’s just say I filled him in on how valuable it might really be to you. I hope you don’t mind.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Blabbing state secrets. I suppose I can let it pass, just this once.”

  “A shame about the vase though, that you have to sell it, I mean.”

  Carr made a face. “The only shame is that I’ll be giving all the money to doctors and hospitals, but it will be worth it. This will give Shannon a fighting chance.”

  “But if you didn’t need the money for your sister, you’d keep the vase wouldn’t you?”

  “Hell, no,” he scoffed. “I’d still sell it to the highest bidder. Antiques are just things, commodities to be bought and then sold at a higher price.”

  She moved over to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re just like Pettigrew—you’re both Old Souls. You love art and history and all that stuff, admit it. It’s not just your business, it’s your passion.”

  “Hey—since when do you know so much about what I like?” he said, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her closer to him.

  Sanchez ran one hand across the side of her face, brushing back some loose hair. “Over the last month, I’ve seen who you really are. How you were with Mumphrey at the end, and… how you are with me sometimes. You pretend to be this arrogant badass, but inside you’re more complex, aren’t you?”

  “I appreciate beautiful things.”

  “I know, and thank you for letting me see that part of you. So when I get back to Sarissa,” she said softly, as he wrapped his arms around her, “we’ll meet at Bismarck’s for a drink.”

  “A drink and…”

  “Dinner.”

  “Dinner and …”

  “And we’ll see where it goes from there,” she whispered. “I told you, my career scares all the good men away.” She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Maybe you’ll be different.”

  He held on to her, not wanting to let go. “You know, there are company rules about operatives becoming involved with each other,” he said, kissing her on the cheek before they separated.

  “And we both know you never break the rules.” Sanchez winked as she turned to leave, looking back just before going through the hatchway. “Two months on Earth and a month’s travel home.” She raised a hand and extended three fingers. “See you in three months.”

  He returned the gesture. “Three months.”

  Carr sat on the edge of the bunk after Sanchez left, staring at the container holding the Dragoneer Vase. A lot could happen in three months. Three months ago, he was empty and lost, but now he felt alive again, rejuvenated like the planet some forty thousand kilometers below. He and Earth had been given a second chance, and he hoped they could both make the best of it.

  Epilogue

  City of Beresford

  Planet Gerrha

  Commonwealth homeworld

  It was a dive. There was no other way of looking at it. The fancy sign outside read Raymond’s, and from the street it looked like it might be a hidden gem, but inside it was just another shabby bar. Tucked away in the Little Cardea section of the capital city, the only advantage to being here was that they weren’t up there, on that damned space station they’d been stashed away on for the last month.

  Pathin Chopra and Emma Harper ordered another beer and waited. The boss was late, but that might not be a bad thing. They and their comrades had been stuck on Gerrha, or rather above Gerrha, for a month now. What were a few more minutes if it got them somewhere, anywhere but here? Hell, they couldn’t even go to a nice watering hole for fear of being recognized for who and what they really were. At least the Admiralty building was only a few blocks from here, so when the meeting—

  “Here they come,” said Harper, nudging her colleague as she watched the door open. “Straighten up, dammit! You look like you’re buzzed.”

  “Relax, I’m fine,” he assured her.

  The slender newcomer slid into the booth opposite Chopra and Harper, while her male companion went to the bar to order a beer. As he waited, he swiped his m-card across an old-fashioned music player and it began to blast out a random tune. The noise would help cover their conversation.

  “Well?” asked Chopra, his pleading expression showing his anxiety.

  “Well, I’m thirsty,” said the woman across the table. Her companion arrived back with a bottle of Hiwassee Stout and placed it in front of her, sitting down with nothing for himself. She took a swig. “Not bad.”

  Chopra rolled his eyes in frustration and then felt a sharp kick from Harper under the table. She knew he was upset and a little drunk, but there was going to be trouble if he didn’t settle down.

  “We’re just a little anxious,” said Harper, trying to keep the situation under control. “So how did the meeting go, Admiral?”

  Brin Choi had just met with the Gerrhan Space Service, her fifth such meeting since arriving in the Eupraxa system four weeks ago. After surrendering her two Union destroyers to the Gerrhans, she and her crews had become ‘guests’ of the Commonwealth. A temporary setback, she told herself, but she also knew that this was the price of failure and that her options were limited—for the time being.

  Choi swallowed another mouthful of beer. It was odd, all of them sitting here wearing civilian clothes, drinking beer—all of them except her chief bodyguard, the ever-vigilant Major Seydoux. Her people were under house arrest on Halcyon Starport. The Gerrhans had secured a large block of hotel rooms for the crews of her two ships. A comfortable cage, but a cage nevertheless.

  “They won’t let us defect, and they won’t grant us political asylum,” she finally answered.

  Chopra slammed an open hand down on the table. “Damn! What’s wrong with them? We could all get commissions in the GSS. We’d be valuable assets, don’t they understand that?”

  “Calm down, Commander,” Choi said in an unruffled voice. “You’re drawing unwanted attention.” Of the few patrons in the establishment, a couple had glanced over briefly, but then settled back into their alcohol-induced stupor.

  “So we’re just screwed now, is that it?” said Chopra in a quieter but still panicked voice. “That damned Canizares. It would have all worked if that bastard had followed orders and brought Second Fleet to Artemis.”

  “Easy, Pathin,” said Harper, placing her hand on her fellow ship captain’s arm to calm him. “Ma’am, I’m more worried about our crews. They can’t go home, and it seems they can’t start a new life here. What’s to become of us?”

  “May I ask the Admiral,” Chopra interrupted in an acerbic tone, “if the Gerrhans gave any reason for denying us asylum?”

  “They say if they granted us asylum, it would seriously damage already strained relations with the Sarissan Union.”

  Harper looked pained, but Chopra hooted. “I bet it would,” he said before draining his glass. “Guess we’re just too inco
nvenient for them.”

  “Not totally so,” said Choi. That got the two destroyer captains’ attention.

  “What do you mean?” asked Harper.

  “They’ve made us an offer. It’s not great, but it’s the best I could manage given our limited bargaining position. We get Ivar back and we do some privateering for them—anti-piracy work. They have some trade routes they want us to clean up. We depart in two days for a base in the Barataria system.”

  “What about Astaroth?” asked Chopra, the vessel’s skipper.

  “They’re keeping Astaroth. Going to rip her apart, trying to find Union tech secrets.”

  Chopra shook his head in disgust. “Great, just bloody great.”

  Choi stared at the man with cold eyes. “Don’t worry Commander, you’ll have another ship very soon. I’m sure of it.”

  Chopra seemed beyond caring, but that last comment piqued Harper’s curiosity. “What does that mean, ma’am?”

  “Something’s going on, Harper. Today’s meeting was different from the others. The officer I’ve been meeting with, this Vice Admiral Bettencourt, he wasn’t as cocky today as he’d been in the past. There was something else too…”

  “What?” asked Harper.

  “Fear,” Choi said thoughtfully. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s the scent of fear. Today at the Gerrhan Admiralty, the air was thick with it. Lots of people running around and lots of hushed conversations in groups of threes and fours. Something is going on—something big. I don’t think we’ll be privateering for long.”

  Harper’s face morphed into one of excitement, but Chopra rubbed his eyes and moaned. “I’m sorry, Admiral, no disrespect meant but hunting pirates wasn’t what we had in mind when my people and I signed on for this.”

  Choi lifted her bottle. “Nor I, Commander Chopra, nor I,” she said just before she killed it.

  Chopra tapped Harper on the arm. “Let me out, will ya? I gotta hit the head.”

  As Pathin Chopra searched for the men’s room, Harper saw Choi give Seydoux an oblique glance. The Marine rose to go to the restroom as well. Harper was alone with the Admiral and extremely uncomfortable. She began tapping her fingernails nervously on the tabletop.