Reality: The Struggle for Sternessence

by Daniel A. Liut

Erina was now starting to come around. “What happened?” she finally asked, with a faint voice, but fully awake.

  “We are free, drifting in space. I’m turning on the emergency homing system.”135

  Nodding, Erina sighed. They looked into each other’s eyes, and finally, Duncan burst into a nervous laugh.

  Erina gazed at him. “Dahncion . . .”

  Duncan stroked a lock of her hair and smiled. “Duncan . . . you call me Duncan.”

  _______________

  122 Estimated Time for atmospheric Reentry.

  123 Tactical Theater magnification. Scale magnification was computed as T.T. scale = 2(magnification factor. Thus T.T. by four would mean a scale magnification of sixteen.

  124 Although the Intrepid was not a carrier, it had a small squadron of nine interceptors.

  125 C.I.C.: combat information center.

  126 DAS: Dynamic Armor System. Spaceship hulls had a network system designed to neutralize, automatically, extreme loads due to weapons attacks or to collisions with meteorites or other types of derelict objects in space. Such systems were designed to increase the molecular cohesion around the impact area almost instantaneously, though for very short time spans.

  DAS systems were used in both civilian and military vessels, although the latter had more sophisticated and powerful units designed to withstand attacks and quasi catastrophic collisions.

  127 Searching Probe.

  128 The air mix of the ship was different from that of the cabin in order to accommodate an environment in which Duncan could live. The antechamber with the two-door system enabled access between the two different environments. When someone came in from the ship, the air inside the antechamber would be that of the ship. Then, with the two doors closed, the air in the antechamber was replaced with the air in the cabin, at which point the door to the cabin would open. The inverse process took place when someone left the cabin.

  129 The Milenia was a vast complex that extended over thousands of square miles on one of the planets of the Establishment’s Capital stellar system.

  130 Zaoohn di-bioxyn. This gas was analogous to the carbon dioxide—CO2—exhaled by our lungs.

  131 The temperature in the vessel was about thirty degrees Fahrenheit, unlike the comfortable seventy-three degrees that Duncan had experienced in his cabin.

  132 During the battle, the explosions had induced very brief but large accelerations inside the ship.

  133 A standard artificial gravitational system not only generates gravity inside a ship immersed in the vacuum of space, but it keeps a constant gravity environment at all times despite the very large accelerations a ship can generate, especially in battle.

  134 He was setting a trajectory to move the shuttle away from the alien ship in the fastest and safest possible manner.

  135 The emergency homing system was an autonomous system designed to work even if the ship suffered serious damage.

  CHAPTER 13

  When All Things Does Mean Everything

  72.

  “Let’s face it, we are stuck here.” Erina stretched back on her chair, putting her hands behind her neck.

  “We’ve been here for only three days. The Intrepid will pick us up any time now.” After escaping from the Establishment’s ship, they had been rescued by a vessel from a large deep-space complex, and the event had been reported to Realitas.

  “Besides, a little vacation here at Nereida’s136 station is hardly going to harm us,” Duncan said smoothly, circling the rim of his glass with one of his fingers.

  “Yes, and after this, the Intrepid, and next another mission, and then another one . . . but the people that brought you here can’t send you back home—unless some next-to-impossible, inter-universal conditions unexpectedly arise.” Erina pushed her lush hair to one side, over her shoulder. “And those who sent me here haven’t shown any signs of being able to retrieve me back. They might think I’m dead.”

  “They would eventually send someone else,” Duncan commented.

  “Highly unlikely. They were not aware of the special conditions that had to take place for these sorts of trips. They were very lucky in sending me here.”

  However negative the comment, it had an unconscious positive effect on Duncan. The unlikelihood of further trips from Earth would increase the chances of the alleged unique role that he would have to resolve the conflict, reinforcing the validity of the reasons for his trip to Reality.

  Duncan poured some more of the silver-gleaming beverage he had ordered and started sipping it quietly. “I’d prefer to think of the whole thing as a temporary situation.”

  “Maybe, but we should probably discuss this with O’sihn when we have the chance. He might be able to send a hint to someone back in Realitas.”

  “Someone like whom?”

  “Someone from SERI, for example.”

  “I think the people at SERI have hardly time for breathing these days,” Duncan stated.

  “This may not be the best time to ask for personal favors,” Erina said. “And I am aware of the expectations that some may have about your fighting in this war. But I think that we owe it to ourselves to be clear about our desires of going back home.”

  Duncan kept staring at his drink, tilting it from side to side. “I’ve started having second thoughts again about fighting this war. Even when I’ve never liked the Establishment or its Equity, I must admit that some of the things Mr. Alishar said made sense to me.”

  “I know what you mean.” Erina had related to him her own experience and the talk Alishar had also had with her.

  “Could we be certain of their intentions?” Duncan continued. “And even if they wanted to use us for their political scheme, what if some—or many—of them were well-intentioned about us? What if some of them truly have a hope of peace with us? After all—and even if I find this questionable—some in the Realdom do believe I would be a key element to end this conflict. So what if we—you and I—could truly help put together the hopes for peace for both sides?”

  Erina listened to Duncan, nodding.

  “I wish I knew the right thing to do,” Duncan added, holding his glass with both hands while looking into it.

  “Well, like you said before, you perceive that there are some in the Realdom who expect something special from you—extraordinary perhaps. Why think now that you might be someone special for the Establishment, or for any side?” Erina put a hand on Duncan’s. “I wouldn’t worry too much about the expectations people may have about us. What matters is what we do today. If, in the future, any of us happened to play some role in the course of events, it would come out naturally, and it would be beyond ourselves.”

  Duncan laughed. “You’ve got the most common sense of any woman I’ve ever met.”

  “I hope this doesn’t take any from the rest of womankind.”

  “No, no.” Duncan smiled. “But you are very special, in many ways.”

  Erina acknowledged the compliment with a slight bow. “By the way, who is that woman on screen?”

  Duncan turned to look at a monitor close to the bar. “Mmm . . . yeah, she’s the First Equitarian—and she’s not a woman, she’s a tilian, a female tilian.”

  “You mean, Em-Rasinka?”

  “The same.”

  Duncan and Erina started listening to Em-Rasinka’s speech. She was talking about her early years, when she had begun spreading the Equity from planet to planet, before the Establishment was founded. There was strength in her words, and an evident charisma in her personality. Her greenish skin was brilliant and smooth, and her movements were somewhat different from those of a human. She had long, thick blue hair, though pronounced receding temples clearly exposed the front of her head. That was a sign of middle age in tilian females, a period that went well past their reproductive years.

  “It looks like a recent recording,” Erina said, keeping her gaze on the screen.

  Duncan shook his head. “It’s an old speech, ten years old, at least.”

 
“Does she have a . . . mate?”

  “She was married, more than a century ago. Tilian males don’t live more than fifty years.”

  “Quite an intriguing race,” Erina commented.

  “Tilian females can live up to four hundred years,” Duncan continued. “Sometimes they can even reach five hundred.”

  “I wonder what the reason is for such life-span asymmetry between sexes.”

  “I learned from a scienscene that it has to do with the ZB2 cycle of their mother planet,” Duncan explained. “It is a very cold place, with no plants to release bioxyn137 from the ZB2 produced by animals. Their own animals do this job, more specifically, all the female animals, after their reproductive stage is over. That’s the reason females of any type live very long on their planet, including tilian females, of course.”

  “Intriguing. This may be related to the color of her skin.” Erina looked at the monitor, which was exaggerating the green138 brilliance of Em-Rasinka’s skin.

  Duncan nodded. “They process energy directly from light, like plants do. As a matter of fact, middle-aged and old tilian females need eat only once or twice a year, depending on how much light exposure their skins have.”

  “. . . the equalization of all peoples into one people, of all cultures in the Culture, of all freedoms into the Our Freedom.” Erina nudged Duncan to keep listening to Em-Rasinka’s speech. However much one might disagree with the content, the First Equitarian had a special gift for making her words provocative but appealing. “Indeed, for with the Equity one lives, with the Equity one breathes, with the Equity one loves, with the Equity . . . One Us . . .”

  “What is that symbol on her forehead?” Erina asked.

  “That’s the emblem of the Equity,” Duncan said, staring at it. It had a triangular layout with symmetrical marks on its sides. “She herself designed it and genetically imprinted it into her own skin.”

  “—the Freedom of peace and tranquility, the Freedom of our beloved mother Equity, the Freedom of . . . the Our Freedom.”

  “So here is where you loafers hide!”

  Startled, both Erina and Duncan turned their attention from the monitor.

  “What do you know? If it isn’t Captain Foxso’l himself.” Duncan stood up to exchange a clasp of forearms, as customary among friends. “Hey, have a seat, have a drink with us.”

  “With the lady’s permission.”

  “You are most welcome,” Erina said.

  “Thank you.”

  A glamorous female, with features similar to Foxso’l’s, passed by their table. Foxso’l grasped her gently by one arm. “Honey, when you have a break, can you bring me the same silver stuff my friend is drinking here? And, please, put a couple of ice cubes in it.”

  The waitress turned back with a pleasing look. “Schooner or regular?”

  “Make it a schooner, honey.”

  “Okay,” she sighed still smiling.

  Foxso’l kept staring at her as she left.

  “So, what a coincidence to see you here,” Duncan commented.

  “This ain’t no coincidence, soldier-boy. We are leaving in less than an hour.”

  “Leaving?” Erina inquired.

  “Yep. I’ve been asked to provide transportation to the Intrepid for you two guys.”

  “We understood the Intrepid was going to stop by here,” Duncan said.

  “Change of plans. She’s been reassigned to a new mission, and SOC139 prefers to keep its position as classified.”

  “So, you’re taking us back to the Intrepid?” Erina asked.

  “You’ve got it.”

  Duncan’s brow furrowed. “Kind of strange that I haven’t received any communication about this from Space Operations Command myself.”

  Foxso’l glanced at Erina with a jerk of his head. “It seems the boy needs a seven-star admiral to tell him what to do.”

  Erina smiled.

  “No, no.” Duncan grinned. “It’s just that it’s somewhat . . . unconventional?”

  “That’s the way things are. Every time your Royal Navy needs to have something done unconventionally, they resort to good old Foxso’l.”

  As he said that, the attractive dark-red waitress was back with the skipper’s order.

  “Here you are.”

  “You’re very kind, sweetheart,” Foxso’l said, and turned back to Duncan. “Say, I didn’t expect to find such beauties that far from the center of the galaxy.”

  The waitress rolled her eyes with a slight smile and turned to attend to another table.

  “So we are leaving in the Angel Spark, I guess.”

  “Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t dream of getting my ship closer than one klawn140 to this station. It’s not very safe goofing around these places.”

  “How are you planning to take us to the Intrepid, then?” Erina asked.

  “I have a small shuttlecraft docked in here. We will use it to get to the Angel Spark. She’s waiting for us somewhere in deep space.”

  “Back to your ship, Erina and I can give you a hand with the navigation.”

  Foxso’l glared at Duncan with unconvinced eyes. “Well . . . we’ll see about that.” He looked at the time readings on a monitor in the bar area, and then back to his friends.

  “Are you ready, guys?”

  Duncan turned to Erina; she nodded back. “I guess we are,” Duncan said.

  “Good.” Foxso’l took the silver beverage, and poured it down his throat. “Ah . . . this stuff of yours is surprisingly good, kid.”

  “Why not another drink before leaving?” Duncan asked.

  “Uh-uh, I’m driving tonight.” Foxso’l got up briskly. “I gotta leave now. See you guys at pier two-forty-six, in, let’s say . . . half an hour?”

  Duncan turned to Erina again.

  “It’s fine with me,” she said.

  Foxso’l left a coin on the table. “I’ll see you guys there, then.”

  73.

  One hour after leaving Nereida, the Blue Hawk stopped its engines and started adjusting its course stealthily, by interacting with the gravitational fields of a star ahead and its planets. Foxso’l was an expert at star-slinging by the seat of his pants. The navigation had been uneventful until an alarm went off on the main control panel.

  “What’s that?” Duncan asked.

  “I don’t know,” Foxso’l said, as he tried to make some sense out of the flood of bizarre readings his sensors were suddenly pouring forth. The anomaly seemed to be related to an unusual highly energized sub-particle field present in the area. Suddenly, the navigational display flashed white. A burst of radiation emitted by the star ahead had hit the vessel, disabling many of its systems.

  Erina held on to the arms of her chair. “I don’t like this.”

  “What is going on?” Duncan asked.

  “Some funny activity from the local star.” Foxso’l pointed angrily at the screen and checked his instruments again. “Hold on, everybody, a radiation shockwave is on our way.”

  “Let’s start the main engines and get out of here,” said Erina.

  Before Foxso’l could take any action, the vessel was hit by a highly energized wave of particles. The ship cracked violently as a mirage of short-circuited beams of energy popped up all over the control panel. The gravitational system had been unable to compensate for the shock, and all the occupants on board were now semi-unconscious, strapped to their seats.

  Duncan was the first one to recover consciousness. “Foxso’l, hey.” He shook the skipper, who rapidly came around and checked his panel trying to assess the situation. Everything seemed to be very far from normal.

  “Another wave on the way,” warned Foxso’l with a slight grimace.

  Duncan partially stood up, being restrained by the straps of his seat. “Let’s blast the main engines out of here!”

  “The main engines are dead, son. I’ll try to find some shelter behind that planet,” Foxso’l added, referring to a very close-by planet on the port side.

  Usin
g auxiliary propulsion, the ship veered quickly onto a parabolic trajectory. Five minutes later, when Foxso’l was about ready to have the ship skim over the upper layers of the planet’s atmosphere, a strong energy vortex hurled the shuttle down towards the planet. Most systems onboard were not working any more.

  Foxso’l spun the ship around using emergency rockets, in a desperate attempt to decrease the atmospheric penetration angle. A new energy shockwave now passed them by, but this time the Blue Hawk barely felt it. The planet seemed to have a narrow but powerful magnetic field enveloping it, capable of deflecting highly energized particles.

  The shuttle began to pierce through the upper atmospheric layers at a speed considerably higher than what Foxso’l himself would have considered safe. “Hold on, everybody! I’ll start the main emergency rocket.”

  A violent increment in the deceleration rate hit the ship like a brick. The internal gravitic system was definitively out of line. The quasi-parabolic trajectory the vessel was following produced additional Gs, which were now literally threatening to squash its occupants. Duncan started to come to the grim realization that neither he nor his companions were going to come out of the situation alive.

  The surface of the planet was approaching fast. However, the rocket engine was starting to deliver more and more thrust as the vehicle got closer to the ground. It seemed that the lower atmosphere was very rich in some oxidizing gas, and the environmentally interactive rocket engine was making good use of that.

  “Hold on, everybody!” Foxso’l howled.

  As the remaining fuel was dumped, a parachute opened. The shuttle hit the ground safely—though not softly—shortly after that.

  74.

  Today: Time to be grateful; time to hope.

  “There it is, behind those trees.” Maliri pointed ahead and turned to her brother.

  “Now I see it!” Agashu yelled.

  “Let’s take a look.” Maliri ran off towards the intriguing object, followed by Agashu. As they got closer, they slowed down, finally stopping about thirty feet from . . . well, what was that?

  “Wow, see the trail it left across the woods.” A clear path had been blazed by the smoking contraption. The children stood there for a moment, gazing and wondering. There was no movement, no sound, nor was there anything special that seemed to pose any immediate threat. Slowly, Agashu approached the perfectly smooth polished surface in front of him. He finally extended a hand, bashfully.