Across the Great Rift

by Washburn, Scott;

  Regina paused the display of the message from Jeanine and sighed. She really wished she was there, on Bastet, to oversee things personally. While she had enjoyed acting as host to the locals—even after Shiffeld’s idiotic restrictions were put in place—at heart she was a terraformer and that was what she ought to be doing. She activated the message player again.

  Geologic scans have located a number of magma pockets which could be tapped. Unfortunately, nearly all have local settlements inside the danger zone. There are two near the poles which might possibly be safe to tap, but that will be a judgment call—your call, Reggie. Really wish you were here to make it.

  On other matters, I’ve kept my eyes and ears open, but I’ve not really discovered anything out of the ordinary. Still, there seems to be a subtle division of loyalties taking place here. Some still consider you the boss but there is a definite faction shaping up who consider Doctor Ramsey to be the one really in charge. I don’t know if that’s simply because he’s here and you are not, or because of other factors I’m not aware of. Still, I think it would be better if you did not stay away too much longer. I look forward to seeing you. Jeanine.

  Regina sighed again. She did miss Jeanine and she resolved that she would travel out to Bastet soon, even if it was just for a visit. But then she got back to what she’d been working on before the message had interrupted her. She was putting together a summary of what she had found out about the history of the locals. No one had asked her to do this, it was something she wanted to do.

  What she had learned was fascinating—and frustrating. There were a lot of gaps in the locals’ records and the farther back history went, the more ‘fact’ seemed to merge with legend. Their earliest, pre-exodus, records were found in the ‘Book of Life’ of their religion. Regina really didn’t know how much she could trust that. At first it had seemed strange that the records would be so incomplete. Granted it had all happened a very long time ago, but these people, unlike her own, had not had a horrific war tear their universe apart. She would have expected their records to have been far more complete.

  But it seemed that the first, ancient, crossing of the Great Rift had been a shoestring operation at best. Nothing at all like the current expedition, it had consisted of just a single ship and one without cold-sleep capsules. The entire crew had been awake for a trip which had taken twenty years. They had used up nearly all of their resources during that journey and record-keeping had not been a priority. Regina was amazed that they had made it at all and the Book of Life seemed to consider it a miracle.

  And when they arrived here they had little to work with. They had had to start almost from scratch in their new home. And that fact explained another thing Regina had been wondering about. The technology of the old United Worlds was a legendary thing. Before the Great Revolt, it had been far more sophisticated than what was currently available. Granted that these people had left long before the UW reached its height, but she still wondered at their relatively low tech level. Apparently, the original colonists had been reduced to what amounted to a subsistence level (if a spacefaring culture could really be termed subsistence) and had not had the means to advance much beyond it in the time since. Still, this struck her as odd; surely they must have some sort of research scientists? Or did they? She’d have to ask…

  The buzzer on her door sounded and kept on sounding as though someone was leaning on the button. “All right, all right, I’m coming,” she said as she got up from her chair and went to the door. It slid open and she was surprised to see Tad and several other members of the Seyotah delegation outside. The expressions on their faces told her instantly that all was not well.

  “Tad! What’s wrong?”

  “Regina! Oh, Regina, something terrible is happening! Please, we must have your help!”

  * * * * *

  “So how is it going?” asked Charles Crawford to the sweating group of technicians. The looks of frustration and anger which met his question told him what the answer was without a word needed—although plenty of words were forthcoming, most of them curses.

  “It’s a mess, sir,” said the one in charge, after the others had voiced their opinions. “This software is all crap. No way we’re going to get it to work.” Crawford glanced at Petre Frichette, but the young man just shrugged slightly.

  “It’s all we’ve got, Ernst,” said Crawford to the foreman. “The software from Felicity was the only stuff we could access and you’ll just have to adapt it for Indomitable. It can’t be all that much different, can it?”

  “Begging your pardon, sir, but yes, it can. Felicity is about thirty years older than this ship and built by an entirely different shipyard. The software might serve similar functions, but there are about a million little details which are different, and until we fix all of them, the damn thing isn’t going to work!”

  “We’re having the same problem through most of the fleet,” said Frichette very quietly in Crawford’s ear. He nodded.

  “Well, do the best you can, people,” he said to the work crew. Their muttered replies were, thankfully, unintelligible. Crawford and Frichette moved off. “So, you’re saying the whole fleet is in this sort of mess?”

  “Unfortunately. There’s no standardization at all from ship to ship. They were built in a dozen different yards over a span of nearly fifty years and there’s no reason to expect software from one ship to work in another.”

  “There weren’t any copies or backups of the proper software?”

  “Oh, there were, but they were all locked into computers we didn’t have the access codes for, either. We ultimately had to purge all those computers and start fresh.”

  “Damn, it couldn’t be much worse if they had been deliberately set up to cause us trouble.”

  “Well, in a way, they were.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The code lock-outs are there to prevent unauthorized people from taking control of the ships. While that includes hijackers and such, it is primarily meant to prevent someone capturing the ship from using it against its former owners without going to a lot of effort. As far as the computers know, we could be pirates or Venanci. Nothing personal, just damned inconvenient.”

  “So the whole fleet is still out of action?” Crawford did not like what he was hearing.

  “Not entirely. Felicity is entirely operational and the light cruiser, New Umbria, is nearly so. On that one, the captain had actually written down the security codes and we managed to find them. A serious breech of regulations, that, but lucky for us—even though New Umbria is just about as old as Felicity. Sadly, we weren’t as lucky on any of the other ships. But even the other ships are not entirely immobilized. Critical ship systems like the reactor, drive, and life support all have extensive manual override controls. They are not quite as good as the main computer controls, but good enough.”

  “So we can move, but not fight?”

  “Right now, that’s pretty much the case, I’m afraid. Sensors are out and the weapons are on manual control. Not a good situation. If we are given a couple more weeks, I’m hoping we will at least have a few of the ships’ point defense systems operating. They could provide torpedo defense for the rest of us. A few more weeks and we might have the main weapons operational on a couple more ships. We just have to pray that the Venanci are late.”

  Frichette paused and they both had to step aside as one of the new damage control teams trotted past, the leader calling out various ship systems to his members as they went. “At least those people should be able to do their jobs,” he observed.

  “Right now, they’re all just learning where things are,” replied Crawford. “Of course, since half the things on the ship don’t work anyway, that makes their repair responsibilities a lot lighter. But unless we can get the weapons operational, I don’t…” He stopped as both of their communicators pinged simultaneously. They stared at each other. “Uh oh.”

  “Sir Charles, there is an urgent call for you from Dame Regina,” said
the person on the other end. “She insists on talking to you right away.” He looked over at Frichette, who nodded.

  “Me, too.”

  “Okay, let’s see what she wants.” Into the com he said, “Very well, we’ll take it in my cabin in three minutes.” They hurried back to the rather palatial cabin reserved for flag officers, which had been given to him, and activated the com-screen. Regina’s face appeared immediately and he was alarmed by the expression on it. “Regina, what’s…?”

  “Charles! Petre! We’ve got a real emergency. The Clorindans are launching an all-out attack on Panmunaptra! We have to stop them!”

  “What?! Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure! Tad was just telling me!”

  “Wait a second,” said Frichette. “Those EMP weapons of theirs are detectable at a huge distance when they fire, even with standard merchant sensors. We haven’t picked up a thing.”

  “The attack hasn’t started yet,” she sputtered. “But it’s on its way! The Clorindans have diverted an asteroid to destroy the base. We have to get moving, dammit!”

  “Good God,” said Crawford.

  “If it hasn’t started, how do you know about it?” demanded Frichette. Regina snarled in exasperation and looked like she was about to explode.

  “Regina, calm down!” said Crawford. “Tell us what’s happening.” Regina stopped and with a visible effort, she got herself under control.

  “All right, all right. Tad and the other Seyotahs have gotten word that this attack is coming. They can’t stop it themselves, but they have asked us for help. They’ve started evacuating Panmunaptra, but they can’t possibly complete it in time—and anyway, it’s their home!”

  “You say they got word of this attack?” asked Frichette. “Word from whom?”

  “Uh, well, as unlikely as it seems, it was from that Clorindan priest who stole Citrone away from us.”

  “What?” cried Crawford and Frichette in unison. “Why would he warn them?” added Frichette.

  “I’m not entirely sure, except that he strongly opposes what the Clorindan leaders are doing and he wants the Seyotahs to save themselves if they can. But with our help, we can save the base! Charles! Petre! You’ve been there yourself and you know what they’ll be losing!”

  His thoughts went back to that wondrous place. The thought of the gardens and all the rest being reduced to dust made him feel sick. “Yes, yes, we must help. How much time do we have?”

  “The Seyotah aren’t sure, but probably less than a day.”

  “We could get there sooner than that if we pushed it,” said Frichette. “We have two ships ready for action, but…”

  “But what?” demanded Regina. “We must help them!”

  “What if this is a trap, Regina? All we have to go on is hearsay—hearsay from someone who is nominally our enemy. We have no hard data at all. What if they are just trying to pull our combat-ready ships away so they can attack us here instead? That Clorindan priest must know from Citrone just how vulnerable we are.”

  “But what if this is for real?” persisted Regina. “We can’t just ignore this!”

  “No, but we’re going to have to talk to the governor before we do anything.”

  “Shiffeld?” spat Regina. “He doesn’t give a damn about the locals! He could care less if they’re all killed—in fact he would probably welcome it!” She looked beseechingly at Crawford. “Charles, please, we have a duty to help them.”

  “Dame Regina, we also have a duty to our own people. We cannot just go haring off and leave them naked,” said Frichette with a note of sternness in his voice that was not like him. “Now, I agree we should do something, but I’m going to bring Governor Shiffeld into this conversation before we make any spontaneous decisions we might regret.” Regina frowned ferociously, but she did not protest further as Frichette connected with Shiffeld. There was an exasperating delay in actually getting through to him, but finally, the screen split and all four of them were in communications.

  “Lord Frichette, Sir Charles, Dame Regina, is there a problem?”

  “Yes, Governor, there is,” said Frichette, taking the lead. He quickly outlined the situation and concluded: “My recommendation is that we send Felicity to deal with this situation and keep New Umbria here to watch over the rest of the fleet.”

  “One ship!” exclaimed Regina. “Surely we can send more than that!”

  “Felicity is the best ship for the job, Dame Regina,” said Frichette. “She has the most experienced crew and some of the replacement gear we’ve put in her has been hardened to resist the locals’ EMP weapons. Now that we know what we are up against, we should be able to handle this attack. Any other ships we might send would not even be able to defend themselves, let alone protect the Seyotahs.”

  “I fully agree with your analysis, Lord Frichette,” said Shiffeld. “And I agree that we must send aid. For us to abandon our trade partners could have the most serious consequences for our relations with all of these people. I’m authorizing you to proceed to their assistance at once.”

  “You are?” said Regina in surprise. Then she blushed. “Thank you, sir, I’m very grateful.”

  “I’m not entirely unreasonable all the time, Dame Regina. Especially when someone presents me with a well-reasoned argument.” Regina muttered something under her breath, but nodded.

  “Now, sir,” said Frichette, “if you’ll excuse me, I need to get moving.”

  “You intend to command in person?”

  “Yes, sir, I have more experience with this sort of thing than anyone else—besides, it will be good for morale.”

  “Very well. Good luck.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Frichette closed the connection with the governor and stepped away. “Well,” he said to Crawford, “better get going.”

  “Just a minute! Don’t think you’re going alone!” cried Crawford.

  “Damn right!” said Regina. “We are coming, too!”

  * * * * *

  Tad Farsvar sat nervously in an unused chair on the bridge of the Newcomer warship. He remembered the last time he had been here and how horrified he had been when this ship killed the Clorindan warriors. He was just as nervous now as then, maybe more, but his other feelings were entirely different. This time, he was looking forward to seeing this fine ship cut a swath through the damn Clorindans! He knew he should be ashamed of such thoughts, but could anyone really blame him? The Clorindans were coming to destroy the home of his people—his home! It was still almost unbelievable. The custom of non-lethal raids between the clans had evolved over the course of centuries and it had been used successfully for over a thousand years. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Of course, nothing like the initial slaughter of the Clorindan raiders had happened before, either, but that had been an accident, a misunderstanding. Anyone could see that!

  Couldn’t they?

  Apparently not. Rumor had it that the Clorindan leader had lost both his sons, one in the initial battle and the other in the duel to avenge the death of the first. It would seem that the loss had driven the man mad. It was the only explanation Tad could see. But whatever the reason, the Clorindans had to be stopped! Panmunaptra had to be saved and if people had to die to save it, then so be it. He could scarcely believe how angry he was.

  “How are you doing, Tad?” He jumped when Regina appeared beside him. The woman slowly and carefully lowered herself into another chair. The ship was decelerating at a, to him, rather incredible three-and-a-half Gs and the artificial gravity system could only nullify a little over half of that. They were all feeling very heavy. “You look worried.”

  “Yes, I guess I am, a bit.”

  “Were you able to contact your family?”

  He shook his head. “No, things are too confused at Panmunaptra right now and I couldn’t get through.”

  “I’m sure they are out of harm’s way, Tad.”

  “I hope so, but our ship was undergoing a major refit. If it was still all in pieces in on
e of the repair bays, they might be stuck there. And my cousin, Dara, and her husband’s baby is due to be released from the crèche any day now. If they can’t move the crèche in time, they would never leave the baby.”

  “Well, with any luck it won’t matter. We’re nearly there and everything will be all right.” Regina gave him a warm smile, but he could sense that she was nervous, too.

  “Thank you, Regina, thank you for helping us.”

  “It’s the least we could do. After all, we’re friends, aren’t we?” She reached over and squeezed his hand through the glove he was wearing to stay warm. He nodded and squeezed back. They both looked up and let go when Charles Crawford lumbered over to them. The increased gravity did not bother him at all. Commodore Frichette was right behind, although he was moving with far more care.

  “Okay, we’re almost there,” said Crawford. “The attack hasn’t materialized yet, so it looks like we are in time.”

  “Potentially in time,” corrected Frichette. “We only have educated guesses on the likely approach vectors the enemy will take. If they come in from some unexpected direction, we might not be in a position to intercept. Mr. Farsvar, we are going to be very dependent on your own warriors to be our advanced scouts. We’ve made arrangements with your leaders for them to relay sensor information to us, but so far they haven’t found anything.”

  Tad nodded. The news that the Newcomers would provide help had started a flurry of activity among his people. The evacuation was going ahead, but all of the warriors, instead of providing escort for the refugees, were all fanning out to try and find where the Clorindan attackers were coming from. If these scouts could provide enough warning then the enemy could be engaged far enough away to possibly save Panmunaptra. Communications links had been set up between the Newcomers and the commander of the Seyotah warriors. If anything was detected, the information would be sent straight through.