by Mark Tufo
“Now, before I fall asleep,” I prodded.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, we were attacked.”
“By whom?” Lendor asked.
Manuel hesitated.
“You must have wanted to talk to us; you said you would,” Cedar said, cutting to the chase.
“In terms of the order of this ship, I rank near the bottom, so it’s not that I don’t want to say something, it’s that I don’t know anything. Rumor has it we were attacked by Gengruns.” He shuddered at that word, but it meant nothing to us and he must have picked up on that. “Think Stryver, only worse.”
“That would be an unfortunate enemy,” Lendor said.
“Thing is, they’re not supposed to exist anymore. Supposedly wiped out over a hundred years ago. We learned all about them in school, how they had nearly brought the known galaxy to its knees. They allied with no one, destroyed everything they encountered, seemingly for the joy of destruction. For that, they were dubbed the angels of death, but that didn’t make any sense. Death only takes its due; the Gengruns took everything.”
“How were they stopped?” I asked.
Manuel shook his head. “Our lessons got fuzzy there. I never saw anything that was definitive—mostly speculation.”
“Then how were they speculated to have been defeated?” Cedar asked. She was somehow stuffing another muffin into her mouth, this one chocolate chip. “I juff knew chclate was going to be this good.” She started pulling out the deep brown, cone-shaped pieces and slowly rolling them on her tongue.
“Depending on the source, it was a virus.”
“You don’t believe that though,” I said.
“No. More likely it was some terrible weapon we created but no one talks about it.”
“I wonder if this is the ‘Happening’ we keep hearing of,” Lendor said.
“Where are we going now?” Serrot wanted to know.
“You can’t say anything.” Manuel looked around as if we were being observed.
“Who do you think we’re going to tell? Blainer? That guy is an ass,” Tallow said.
“We’re going back to the where the high council is, our home world.”
Had another hundred or so questions for him when the door slid open and Commander Breeson, along with five others, filed into the room.
“Private Jimenez. Imagine my surprise when I saw that you were not at your duty station,” the Commander said.
“This one here was choking, sir, I came to her aid.” Manuel pointed to Cedar, who on queue began to cough.
“Sorry, I can’t stop eating these.” Crumbs fell to the floor. “Got it lodged in the back of my throat, can still feel it there. Want to take a look?” She stuck out her tongue and opened her mouth wide.
“As long as you are all right, that is all that matters. Private.”
“Yes, sir.” Manuel made a motion with his hand, bringing it up to his forehead before quickly departing.
“I hope you enjoyed your breakfast,” the Commander said pleasantly enough but the words did not have the ring of kindness behind them, as if he spoke per custom and not that he cared in any way.
“It was wonderful. Is there any chance we can discuss going home now?” I asked.
“As much as I would like to say we can get you there, this ship was damaged in that attack and we have to return to our home for urgent repairs.”
“Who attacked us?” Tallow asked.
“We are unsure,” Breeson replied, though he looked away for a moment before answering.
“Can you tell us why your people are hostile to us?” Serrot asked.
“I have no idea. If you tell me who, I will talk to them personally. You are our valued guests and as such, should be treated kindly.”
“Do you always keep your guests guarded and locked in a room?” I asked.
Breeson looked at me sternly. “This is a military vessel, not a cruise ship. It has been a pleasure to talk with you all but I need to check on the rest of my ship.” He let his thin smile fall from his lips as he turned and left. “You go in there again and you’ll find yourself in an extended stay in the brig, you understand me private?”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Manuel stood rigidly as Breeson and the other five walked out of the room and disappeared around the corner.
“Does anyone think anything he said was the truth?” I asked.
“We’re prisoners. Well-fed prisoners, but we’re stuck here,” Cedar said.
Hours once again passed. The old food cart was removed and a new one replaced it. I was not the only one still full from the previous meal. Perhaps had we known that they would be coming with a frequency we would not have eaten until it felt as if our bellies would burst. But where we are from, when food is presented, you eat until you no longer can. A next meal is never guaranteed.
“Something’s going on.” Lendor was standing, yet he was looking to his feet. “Do you feel that?”
I got up off the bed, trying to feel what he felt. I shook my head in negation.
“Nothing,” Tallow said.
“There it is.” Cedar was smiling. “We’re slowing down. That’s it! Right!” She was happy she’d felt it, not that we had potentially reached our destination.
“Imminent Arrival,” came through the walls.
“Another attack?” Tallow asked.
“It does not seem likely that they would slow down for it,” Lendor replied.
“Maybe the machine is broken,” Tallow said. Hard to argue with that considering we had barely any idea how any of it worked. For all we knew, it could have been magic from any number of Cedar’s books. We occasionally picked at the food, only because it seemed like such a waste not to, but other than that we didn’t do much. We could ask each other all the questions we wanted, but without any corresponding answers, it seemed a frustrating and worthless venture. I enjoyed my quiet times, peaceful times of reflection as much as the next person, but this wasn’t that. We were all ready for action—even if we had no idea what was coming. Luckily, all we needed to do was wait some more; that was something we were getting good at.
2
Interception
“Is what I heard correct?”
“It is, High Councilman Lodilin,” Trekoton, his aide, replied. “Our source within the people’s high command says that Commander Breeson has five inhabitants of Earth and something else, though we were not able to decipher that part of the transmission.”
“Is my imperial ship ready?” Lodilin stood.
“Of course.”
“Let’s go then.”
“May I ask where, sir?”
“To intercept the Iron Sides. It is imperative we get to those humans before Breeson can get them home.”
“Intercept?”
“Diplomatically, of course. We have not yet been to war with our new allies.”
“This is a dangerous game you play, High Councilman.”
“These are dangerous times, Trekoton.”
“We are receiving a request to board by High Councilman Lodilin,” Major Dillinger, the communications officer said, speaking to his commanding officer.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Breeson said as he sat upon his chair in the bridge. “Put him on the screen.” Breeson gave a slight nod of his head when Lodilin’s image came on the massive viewing screen. “High Councilman. It is good to see you. How may I be of assistance?”
“You must have received my message; otherwise, we would not be speaking now. You may be of assistance by slowing your ship from its buckle,” Lodilin stated.
“High Councilman, we have sustained damage from an attack. It is of the utmost importance that we seek repairs at our home base.”
“Nonsense. I have some of the finest technicians aboard this very ship. We will board and be of assistance.”
“High Councilman, I am under orders to return to base as quickly as possible.”
“Commander Breeson, if I were to order you to stop, which request would be of higher pri
ority?” Lodilin asked.
Breeson clenched his teeth but smiled nonetheless as he gave another small nod. “Of course, High Councilman. We are slowing now. I look forward to meeting with you soon.” He nodded to his comms officer and the screen went blank. “Major, you have the bridge.” Breeson walked out and to his quarters.
“Commander Breeson, may I ask the reason for this communique? There are proper channels to be used.” Front Admiral Lowrie was impeccably dressed in a red military jacket. Medals which he had earned in dozens of campaigns adorned his chest.
“I am sorry to bother you, Front Admiral. High Councilman Lodilin has requested an opportunity to board.”
“Damn him. He must know. The coincidence is too great. Commander, you get him off that ship as quickly as possible. Is that clear?”
“It is, sir.” The small screen went blank. “And just how am I going to do that? What’s that old saying? Stuck between a…” He gripped the sides of his desk as the ship came to a stop much quicker than he’d been expecting. The lights in his quarters turned a dull red as a general alarm was sounded.
He ran to the bridge. “What’s going on? Something fail in the buckle drive?”
“Don’t know, sir,” Major Gralter told him. She was busy looking at her displays, attempting to ascertain exactly what had happened.
“Have we pulled out of the buckle?” the commander asked.
“No, sir. The buckle was stopped,” Gralter said.
“The buckle was stopped? That’s impossible.”
“Up until thirty seconds ago, sir, I would have said the same thing.”
“Where’s Lodilin?” Breeson asked, wondering if the wily Genogerian was up to something.
“Still an hour out, according to our scans,” Captain Tilton replied.
“Are there any ships in the area?” Breeson asked.
“None that we can detect,” Tilton said.
“That sounds like a qualifier. What’s going on, Captain? Put it on the screen.”
The captain did so. From his seat, he circled an area in the upper left quadrant. “Here, sir. We cannot detect anything, almost as though the continuity of space does not exist there.”
“A black hole?”
“Not quite—a black hole can be measured. This is just a hole. A void.”
“Theories?”
“Nothing yet, sir. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”
“Major Gralter, can we get back into a buckle?” Breeson asked.
“Sir, all systems are green, but we cannot, for some reason, ignite an opening.”
“Propulsion?”
“Online.”
“Let’s move. Major Dillinger, get on the line with High Councilman Lodilin. Tell him we are about to be under attack and he should leave the area as quickly as possible.
* * *
*** Ogunquit
* * *
“I usually have a difficult time deciphering the vast facial array the humans can display, but sir, I think I can safely say that Commander Breeson was most angry.”
“It is easy enough, Trekoton, when you know what to look for. Now we wait. I would imagine he’s sending off an encoded message to his superiors letting them know about my request.”
“Do you believe he will heed your order?”
“He has no choice in the matter. If he does not, he risks weakening everything we have been working on for centuries.”
Lodilin was on the bridge. He was watching the long-range sensors as the Iron Sides came out of its buckle. “That was much quicker than I expected. I truly thought they would delay.” He had also feared that the humans would bring in more ships as a display of power—a heavy-handed reminder that he was sticking his snout in places it did not belong.
“Imperial Ship Ogunquit, this is Major Dillinger from the Iron Sides. We are under threat of attack. Commander Breeson has requested that you vacate the area as quickly as possible so as not to come in harm’s way.”
“That would be one way to discourage us from coming onboard,” Lodilin said to Trekoton as an aside.
“It very well could be a ruse, High Councilman, but it would have been difficult to do what they did in regards to the buckle; they would need to employ a technology we are as of yet unaware of, and with our connections within their system, it is highly unlikely that we would not know about it.”
“You are correct in that matter. Someday, I hope that we become confident enough that all this clandestine subterfuge is no longer needed between us. Bring up the communication screen.”
“Major Dillinger, what kind of ally would I be if I fled in your hour of need?” Lodilin asked.
“High Councilman.” Breeson came on to screen. “With all due respect, this is a war vessel equipped to handle myriad hostile situations. Right now, we have no idea what we are dealing with and I cannot also be concerned with your ship being involved in something I cannot control.”
“Commander, the Ogunquit is more than capable of defending herself. I daresay perhaps even better than the Iron Sides herself. We will stay close for now, especially since it would appear that your buckle drive is unavailable to you, rendering you especially vulnerable.”
“As you wish,” Breeson said before abruptly cutting comm.
“I do not believe he likes your decision.” Trekoton wore a ghost of a smile.
“You are getting better at this. Have our techs discovered the source of the Iron Sides’ problem?”
“No sir, but I have just received word of an anomaly.”
3
Buckling
I fell into Lendor, who himself fell onto the bed.
“What just happened?” I asked as I helped Cedar up. She had bumped her head against the food cart as she looked for more of the bubbly sweet water.
The lights in the room shifted to red, though there was no sounding of an alarm.
Lendor was shifting on his feet, testing the deck plates. “We’ve stopped.”
“How can you tell? There’re no windows,” Tallow asked.
“It is a sense; also, there is a minute vibration in the floor as we are moving, an engine in motion, like in the trucks and the shuttle. It is no longer there.”
“Maybe we’re wherever we’re going.” Serrot looked to the door.
“More likely they stopped for the ‘arrival’ they are expecting. Friends, maybe?” I said.
“Very well could be, if not for that.” Lendor pointed to the red lights. “One would not think it would be worthy of shipwide alarm as you awaited guests.”
“Well there’s that,” I said.
“We’re guests. Look how we’re treated.” Cedar was rubbing her head.
“What does any of it mean to us? We can’t do anything, and I, for one, am going insane waiting,” Tallow said.
“Yeah. We should do something. Tallow doesn’t need to be pushed far to get the end of his rope,” Cedar said.
“Funny one,” Tallow mock-laughed. “Probably has more to do with the company I keep.”
“He is right, though,” I said, “the first part, anyway. I am going a little stir crazy as well and worried over leaving everyone we know. They could still be in danger. And it always circles back to the fact we are helpless.” I was grousing. Our spirits seemed to have dampened with the lighting. Nothing happened for a seeming eternity, with nothing more to do than digest food, I fell asleep. Possibly a few hours later, I was awakened by a soft tapping coming from the door. No one else in the room had heard it, they slept on where they lay.
“Manuel?” I said as I hit the button that opened the door. “Is it wise for you to be speaking with me?”
“Probably not, but I’ve never been one to adhere to all the rules.” He stood there for long moments, just looking at me, to the point where I became increasingly uncomfortable.
“Is there something you wanted to say?”
“You are quite beautiful, you and your sister both. Are all women from Earth like you two?”
“If you’ve spoken your piece, I’m going back to sleep.”
“No, no—I’m sorry. I only meant…it was merely a compliment. I am happily in a relationship.”
“Again, Manuel, I have not slept well in days and my body is still sore from the battle we were involved in.” I was turning around.
“We’re under attack,” he blurted out.
“What?” I turned back toward him. “Stryvers?” I could think of no worse enemy to be confronted with.
“We don’t know.”
“You don’t know who is attacking you? I don’t understand.”
“It’s more of an electronic attack right now. My friend Halsey works in engineering—he says we were ripped out of a buckle and cannot get back into it.”
“Until recently, the most advanced thing I had ever seen was a rifle. I don’t understand most of what you just said.”
“Okay, just the basics…not like I understand it either. Space is huge, like, enormous. Numbers that hardly make any sense. So buckling was created. It’s a way to travel across vast amounts of distance without taking centuries to do so. Here, I’ll give you a quick demonstration.” He pulled his communication device from his back pocket. “Say you wanted to go from the top of my Pear Pie device down to the bottom.” He traced a straight line from one to the other. “You would think that would be the quickest way to achieve this, right?”
I nodded, wholly unsure where any of this was going and still greatly missing my bed.
“But what if I did this…” he bent the device. “you see now how much closer the top is to the bottom?”
“I do. Your ships do this with space? They somehow fold it over?”
“Yeah, it’s called buckling. Supposedly it has been around for ages, but it was us that improved upon it, found a way to increase the number of folds so that the points are that much closer.”
“So something interrupted this…buckle?” I asked.
