Reality: The Struggle for Sternessence

by Daniel A. Liut

  “I apologize for the short notice, but we ran into the Temperance less than an hour ago. It was only then that we learned she was heading for Realitas.”

  Duncan stood quietly, staring at O’sihn with gloomy eyes.

  “You’d better hurry to the port bay, Dahncion,” O’sihn added, as he checked the time once more. “The shuttle assigned for the transfer will be taking off at 1000R. Clara is already on board.”

  Duncan looked at the clock. He certainly had very little time left. “Permission to proceed, Captain.”

  “Granted.”

  65.

  Duncan headed for the globular, a spherical vehicle that moved through different sections and decks.119 It was on the globular that he first realized that, since the last battle, things had changed within himself. Even if he experienced a strong attraction towards Erina, Clara reached his heart with a singular peace and freedom, like a warm breeze he could not ignore, especially when being close to her. The prospect, or at least the possibility, of not seeing her again saddened him.

  Soon, the door opened at the port bay. Blinking lights were already denying access to the shuttle, which was ready to take off. The depressurization gates were about to seal the vessel from the rest of the bay. A crewmember hurriedly waved Duncan in from the gate to the vehicle, and he ran inside.

  During the short trip, nobody would experience any acceleration or sensation of motion. The gravitational equalizer system, used in most spaceships, would provide an inertial environment at all times.

  “Lieutenant Commander Clara is at the end of this corridor.” Lieutenant Sadeer, the officer who had waved Duncan in at the bay, indicated the direction with a tilt of her head.

  “Thank you.”

  Hurrying up to the cabin, Duncan found Clara sitting on a medical chair.120 A blue mantle, with the Royal Navy’s emblem on it, covered her body. Her long hair was made up into a neat plait that Laida had hastily, but skillfully, arranged minutes before Clara had been sent to the shuttle. Duncan noticed her hair and the beauty behind it. Despite her evident facial injuries, Clara still looked attractive.

  “I’m so glad you could make it,” Clara said, after a brief silence. Her voice, though clear, lacked her peculiar elegant determination.

  “How long is that treatment of yours gonna take?” asked Duncan.

  “The doctor said that I should be completely recovered in three months.”

  “Three months?”

  “That’s shorter than the time we were apart during your previous assignment.”

  Duncan nodded. “I’ll miss you.”

  Clara smiled gently.

  “Now hear this . . .” A voice came through 1-MC.121 “This is Lieutenant Kaitting. We’ve initiated the docking sequence with the YSF Temperance. Lieutenant Dahncion, stand-by for Lieutenant Commander Clara’s transfer at the docking gate.”

  Keeping his eyes on Clara, Duncan stepped back to a communicator built in on one bulkhead and laid a finger on a glassy slot. “On my way, sir.” He looked at Clara sadly; she smiled.

  The doors to the cabin opened. “We need to go,” Sadeer said, standing in front of them.

  Duncan started pushing Clara’s chair towards the transferring section. On reaching it, Sadeer knelt down to rearrange the mantle that covered Clara’s body as they waited at the docking gate. It immediately opened like the pupil of an eye, with a sharp metallic sound.

  A long, narrow cylindrical passage, which belonged to the Temperance, appeared in front of them. Duncan carefully moved Clara’s chair inside the docking corridor. He had to bend his head when stepping into it. “Maybe you can wait here,” he said, turning back to Sadeer. “It’s a narrow corridor.”

  “Certainly,” Sadeer said. “I wish you the best, Lieutenant Commander,” she added, looking at Clara over Duncan’s shoulders.

  “Good-bye, Sadeer.”

  Duncan moved Clara down the corridor as slowly as possible. An unexpected grief welled up deep inside him. Too soon, he and Clara had reached the other end. A second gate then opened as harshly as the first.

  Duncan saluted the officer from the other ship. “Lieutenant Dahncion transferring Lieutenant Commander Clara, sir.”

  “Welcome on board, Lieutenant Commander,” the medical officer of the Temperance responded.

  Duncan helped to transfer the chair to the docked ship. A nurse moved forward to transport the injured officer to sickbay.

  “Just a moment, please.” Clara turned towards Duncan, who was looking at her from the docking corridor. She looked at him in silence. Then she offered him her hand. In it was the medallion she always carried. Clara had been wearing that medallion when she had been first found alone in a wreck on Veritas, all those years before. It conveyed a special meaning to her, as it was the only link she had with the past she could not remember. “I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again. Probably not.”

  Duncan took the medallion, looked at it, and turned his gaze back to Clara, hesitant as to if he should accept it.

  “But, no matter what happens,” Clara continued, “no matter where we are—remember that I love you, and I always will.”

  Clara’s salute lacked the persuasion to check the tears she wanted to contain. Duncan saluted back, holding his arm up until Clara lowered her own.

  “I also love you, Clara,” he replied.

  But the gate had already closed.

  _______________

  119 The ship was honeycombed with a network of tube-like tunnels, through which a globular could reach any part of the ship. There could be up to fifty globulars operating at the same time, although it was very rare to have that many running simultaneously. The globular operation was very simple: a magnetic field generated inside the tunnels induced the motions for these vehicles and kept them from ever touching the tunnel-walls. Of course, the system was fully automated: the user only needed to voice the destination, although there were specific instructions for priority and speed typically used in combat.

  120 Medical chairs were mounted on a gravitational base that kept them about one foot above the floor. The system was designed to absorb sudden accelerations and to prevent the chairs from capsizing.

  121 Main circuit for internal communications used to transmit orders and information reaching all decks. For the current English account, we adopted the same term used in the U.S. Navy, to avoid coining a new word.

  CHAPTER 12

  Alishar

  66.

  “Time for reentry?”

  Lieutenant Leepardian’s virtual console came on, together with that of McAwian, the communications officer of the watch. “Shuttle’s E.T.R.122 three minutes, Captain.”

  “T.T. mag.123 by four.”

  “T.T. by four, sir.”

  The bright ocher surface of Serena, spotted with downy bluish clouds, filled the whole tactical screen. Duncan and Erina had been assigned to a routine reconnaissance mission to one of the most beautiful charted planets of the quadrant. The area had not yet suffered the stings of the universal war. Though its strategic potential was growing, the territory was not formally claimed by any of the warring parties yet.

  “Here goes Ensign Erina’s first mission,” O’sihn commented.

  “Uh-huh,” Laida mumbled, her eyes focused on the screen.

  “It doesn’t look like a tough one, anyhow,” O’sihn added.

  Laida sighed. “I would feel much better now if we had sent a couple of interceptors124 as an escort.”

  O’sihn nodded. “We don’t want to overprotect the boy—or Erina.”

  Laida kept her eyes on the main TD.

  A female voice came through O’sihn’s console communicator. “Wide and short range scanners show all clear, Captain.”

  “Copied, C.I.C.”125

  “Shuttlecraft entering planet’s atmosphere,” Leepardian reported.

  “Chart of the landing area on L.B.”

  “Aye, Captain,” McAwian acknowledged.

  A detailed picture appeared o
n the left bottom (L.B.) section of the tactical screen.

  “I like this place,” O’sihn said. “We could set aside some time for shore leave . . .”

  “There seems to be something wrong with the shuttle’s communications,” Leepardian interjected.

  “Reentries have never been good for communications,” O’sihn commented, “no matter how hard engineers keep trying to change this.”

  “I don’t know, sir. This seems different. I have something like a complete echo blackout.”

  O’sihn straightened up in his chair. “C.I.C./conn.”

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “Deehra, do you detect any unusual activity close to the shuttle’s position—anything?”

  “Mm . . . no, sir.”

  “Engage high radiation scanners.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Anything new?” O’sihn asked, looking at the virtual console of the chief of the watch.

  “I really don’t know,” Leepardian replied, “but the blackout is very intense.”

  “I don’t like this,” Laida muttered. “I don’t like it at all.” She focused her attention on some digital noise that had just materialized on the main screen.

  Almost at once, the ship was rocked in a vicious fashion.

  “Conn/C.I.C.,” Deehra’s agitated voice came through on the captain’s console.

  “X.O., signal alert one on all decks. What was that?” O’sihn asked Deehra, who was waiting on the intercom line.

  “Now hear this, all personnel to battle stations . . . ”

  “Plasma impact on port side, sir,” Deehra reported.

  “ . . . alert condition one . . . ”

  “Point of origin?” O’sihn asked.

  “ . . . all personnel to battle stations . . . ”

  “From the shuttle’s estimated position, Captain.”

  “ . . . this is not a drill.”

  “What about that ultra-radiation scan?” O’sihn continued.

  “ . . . I repeat, all personnel to battle stations . . . ”

  “We’re picking up some weak unusual bands, but nothing out of standard spectrum.”

  “ . . . Alert condition one . . .”

  “Aim every scanner we’ve got onto the shuttle’s last bearing.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  The lights faded down, and a 3-D image of the surrounding space was projected, enclosing the entire bridge. Laida, who was very focused on her console, suddenly raised her head and startled with vertigo. She found herself as if floating in space right above the impressive view of the planet below and moving at an incredible speed over its surface.

  “Damage control reports minor damages on port sub-level bay. DAS126 absorbed 99.98 percent of impact energy.”

  “Copied, X.O.”

  “Permission to assume T.O., Captain,” said Tygrum, who had just arrived at the bridge.

  “Permission granted. Bring yourself up to speed with current situation, T.O.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Conn/C.I.C.”

  “Deehra?”

  “Sir, we have identified a gravitational disturbance near the shuttle’s estimated position.”

  “What kind of disturbance?”

  “We’re still working on that, but it could come from a medium-size ship.”

  “Captain!” Leepardian called.

  O’sihn raised his eyes and looked at the tactical screen. On one side of Serena’s globe, a target acquisition marker popped up on the display.

  “Unidentified object emerging from the planet’s atmosphere,” Leepardian said.

  “Unidentified vessel registers as a Corregum class destroyer,” Deehra confirmed.

  “What about the shuttle?” added O’sihn.

  “The only reading is from the unidentified vessel, Captain,” Deehra said.

  “A destroyer emerging from the atmosphere?” Laida said with a skeptical tone.

  Once again, O’sihn checked the tactical data on his console. “Try to locate the shuttle, Deehra.”

  “We are trying, Captain.”

  “Unidentified contact has assumed a parallel course to ours,” Tygrum added, “as if trying to escape.”

  “C.I.C./conn, anything about the shuttle?”

  “No readings from it, Captain.”

  “Any signs of debris along estimated trajectory?”

  “We only register the atmosphere spectrum, plus a limestone, salty surface with rich traces of organic material below,” Deehra explained. “That’s all I’ve got, Captain.”

  “Keep on scanning.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Permission to dispatch a searching probe to the landing site,” Laida added, referring to the area selected for the shuttle’s landing, as she switched bands on the bow tactical scanner.

  “Permission granted.”

  “Unidentified vessel is leaving us behind rapidly,” added Tygrum.

  O’sihn clasped his hands together and leaned his chin on them. “Full ahead, Leepardian. Let’s try to catch up with it.”

  “What about Dahncion?” Laida asked.

  “Full acceleration ahead, Captain,” Leepardian acknowledged.

  “I have a pretty bad hunch that Erina and Dahncion are on board that vessel,” O’sihn replied.

  “It doesn’t seem very likely the vessel could’ve captured the shuttle so rapidly,” Laida commented.

  “It wasn’t likely at all to find a Corregum class destroyer immersed in a well-developed atmosphere either, but that’s exactly what’s happened, X.O.”

  “But . . .”

  “The S.P.127 you’ve launched will be able to detect the shuttle or any vital signs from Erina and Dahncion, if they are down there on Serena.”

  “They may be injured.”

  “They may have been captured by the unidentified vessel,” O’sihn retorted.”

  Laida turned to the tactical screen. A small yellow dot, surrounded by stars, was marked out by a red locking cross.

  “I guess you’re right, Captain,” the X.O. conceded. “But, if we find out we can’t close distances with that ship—” Laida pointed at the yellow dot—“I’d strongly recommend abandoning pursuit and returning to Serena immediately. If anyone is injured, we’d be there to help.”

  “Fair enough,” O’sihn concurred. “If, after one hour of pursuit, we fail to close distances onto target—”

  “—Or we do it poorly,” interjected Laida.

  “—Or we do it poorly, X.O., we’ll follow your recommendation.”

  67.

  The prisoners were at the entrance of two contiguous cabins, standing in a dim corridor. As the doors in front of them opened, a character—with human traits—wearing a pressurized uniform commanded Erina to step inside one of the rooms, pushing her mildly on the shoulder. Duncan was still gazing at her when another individual, much bigger than the other and wearing a similar uniform, ordered him, not as mildly, to enter an adjacent cabin through an antechamber. The entrance door to the cabin closed immediately, and so did a second door to an antechamber that separated the cabin from the entrance door. Having entered with Duncan, the alien declared that the environment was suitable for life, and directed him to remove his suit. He did not specify what type of life, but with a gun aimed at him, Duncan had little choice. He complied with the order and found the atmosphere to be safe. The alien left the cabin, taking along the Realitian suit.

  One hour later, Duncan received a peculiar visit. An individual was now standing at the doorway in the antechamber128 to Duncan’s quarters. He was wearing a suit that covered his entire body. The alien had distinctive human features with masculine traits. Although his head seemed to be exposed to the environment, a very tenuous aura emanated from the collar around his neck. Some form of energetic capsule enveloped his head, providing for an independent gaseous environment different from the one in which Duncan was immersed. The visitor stepped in and stood in front of Duncan, who was sitting on a couch.

  “Lieut
enant Dahncion, my name is Alishar. I’m honored to meet you.” The alien extended his right hand towards Duncan, who stared at him without moving.

  “I understand the people of Earth greet friends in this manner.” The visitor pulled back his fist with a refined movement. Picking up a chair behind him, he placed it in front of Duncan.

  “You might be concerned about Miss Erina,” he added, and paused as if measuring Duncan’s reaction. “She is perfectly safe, assigned to quite adequate quarters, not too different from this cabin.” There was a distinctive look in Alishar’s eyes that inspired trust.

  “You might be wondering about many other things: the events of the last couple of hours, the reason of your being here, the war . . .” Alishar sighed. “First, and in a quite unexpected manner, you and your fellow officer are captured by an enemy ship; next, you are treated rather cordially—something you may not have anticipated.”

  “What do you want from us, Mr. Alishar?” Duncan said, breaking his silence.

  “We know your origins,” Alishar responded with an affable expression, “and the way each of you reached our universe—and the way each of you got involved in this war.” Alishar nodded and paused for a moment. “I’m sure you have met different cultures, already, even if mainly within the context of the Coalition.”

  “Coalition?”

  “Realdom is a term you may be more familiar with,” Alishar asserted, gently stroking his beard. It was carefully trimmed, like his sideburns, which ended in a dignified gray. “All this time you have been hearing about this conflict—and this universe—from one single source.” He paused and laid one arm along the quilted side of his chair. “We would like to take the opportunity to give you a broader perspective.”

  “I’m not particularly interested in your perspective, sir.” Duncan’s words were intended to convey conviction, but Alishar perceived hesitation, or at least a trace of curiosity in his tone.