New Frontiers- The Complete Series

by Jasper T. Scott

  Alexander’s thoughts trailed off as he noticed the Confederate flag fade away and Admiral Zhang’s face reappear on-screen.

  “We have decided to accept your terms, Ambassador Carter. We request that you withdraw your fleet from the entrance of the wormhole to a distance of one light second and maintain that distance between our two fleets for the duration of the trip through the wormhole.”

  “Agreed. We will begin withdrawing immediately,” Carter replied.

  “I shall await confirmation of that. Good day, Ambassador.”

  The holo display faded back to the starry blackness of space, and Alexander breathed a deep sigh. So that was it. Disaster averted. The Looking Glass was functioning like a valve to let off steam and take some of the pressure off Earth. There was a new frontier and a new frontline, with plenty of new territory and resources to fight over. Alexander wondered if colonists had realized what they were signing up for when they decided to go to Wonderland. Did they know that they were trading one war zone for another?

  “Lieutenant Hayes, please contact Admiral Wilson,” Carter said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The admiral’s face appeared on the main holo display and Alexander listened while Carter relayed the terms of their treaty with the Confederacy.

  “Good work, Ambassador,” Admiral Wilson said once Carter had finished speaking. “It’s time to see if the Confederacy lives up to their end of the bargain. Captain, stand by to receive your new flight plan.”

  “Yes, sir.” The holo display faded back to stars and space as the connection ended. “Davorian, prepare to set new course and heading.”

  “Flight plan received. Heading set. Accelerating to one G.”

  Alexander felt himself growing gradually heavier until his body resumed its normal weight. He hoped they weren’t playing into the Confederacy’s hands by letting them through the wormhole first.

  “What’s wrong, Captain?” Carter asked.

  Alexander shook his head. “Nothing.”

  I hope.

  CHAPTER 39

  One Week Earlier - February 11, 2793

  “Why not?” Caty demanded. “It’s a chance for a new life away from all of this!” she gestured helplessly to their surroundings.

  “You think things will be better there?” David demanded. “You’re wrong.”

  “There will be plenty of jobs. The Alliance promised free land, free housing, everything we need to start a new life on Wonderland. And at least there we’ll be away from the constant fear of war.”

  David sneered. “That’s what they want you to believe. The Confederacy is going, too. New planet, same problems.”

  “But more space, so less pressure and competition. It will take a long time for those problems to catch up. Look at the colonies—when war broke out on Earth, they didn’t automatically start fighting each other, and for the most part they remained unscathed. Think about it, David!”

  He looked away, out the living room window at the dusty patch of dirt they called a yard.

  Sensing his indecision, she went on, “And think about Dorian. What kind of future does he have to look forward to here? Even if there isn’t another war, there aren’t enough resources to go around, and competition’s too fierce. Either you’re rich or you’re poor. There’s nothing left in between.”

  David shook his head. “I can’t,” he said quietly.

  Caty’s eyebrows shot up. “Why not?”

  “Soy ilegal.”

  She blinked, convinced she hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?”

  “I’m illegal, Caty. I can’t go anywhere.”

  She shook her head. “You’re illegal?” She gaped at him, still refusing to believe it. “What about your wife? She joined the Navy to buy your citizenship.”

  “I was never married.”

  Caty felt her blood run cold. “You lied to me.”

  He turned to her with a miserable expression. “I didn’t know you back then. I was afraid you would tell someone and get me deported.”

  “What about later on? We’ve been together for years. We have a son together. How did you even get your name on the birth certificate? How have you done anything at all? Do you even have a job? All those adjustment reports… no wonder you never got any better! They were all fake! Is your name even David?”

  “It’s Angel.”

  Caty gaped at him, speechless.

  David held up his hands to placate her. “Let me explain.”

  “Explain what? Everything you’ve ever told me is a lie!”

  He shook his head. “Mi amor, por favor dejame explicar.”

  “I’m not your love. Not anymore. And there’s nothing left to explain. You’ve finally gone too far.” Caty smirked at him, suddenly seeing David for the pathetic excuse of a man that he was. She didn’t need him anymore. For what? To beat her and abuse her? The Alliance had offered her a way out and she was going to take it. “I’m leaving, and I’m taking Dorian with me.”

  David’s eyes flashed. “You can’t do that. Dorian is my son just as much as he is yours.”

  “Actually, Dorian’s father is registered as David Porras, but since you’re not David, good luck trying to claim your rights. You don’t have any.”

  David gritted his teeth, but said nothing. She started toward the bedroom to go pack her bags.

  By now she should have known better to turn her back on him. One minute she was walking, her steps buoyed with adrenaline and righteous anger, and the next she was crashing to the ground with strong hands wrapped tight around her throat.

  They landed on the carpeted floor and she struggled, punching and kicking him, trying to throw him off, but her blows didn’t even faze him. His eyes were wild; his lips parted in an ugly grimace; a gob of spittle glistened in the corner of his mouth.

  She gasped, trying desperately to suck in a breath, but his grip was too tight, his hands too strong. Her lungs began to burn, and her blows became weaker and more frenzied.

  Her vision narrowed to a dark tunnel and she knew she was close to blacking out. She also knew that she couldn’t afford to black out. David might kill her if she did, but even if he didn’t, he would take Dorian and she would never see him again.

  Imagining her son alone with that monster gave her new strength. She tried to knee him in the groin, but he had her legs pinned to either side of his and she couldn’t reach.

  She shook her head from side to side and bit her tongue until she tasted blood, forcing her mind to stay alert. That was when she saw it. They’d landed beside one of the end tables in the living room. Sitting on top of that table was a dirty plate with knife and fork. She made a desperate grab for the knife, but her hand found the fork instead.

  Good enough.

  She lashed out with all of her remaining strength, hoping her aim would be good enough. The fork sank deep into David’s neck. Blood spurted and he screamed.

  He rolled off her, and she gasped, sucking in a deep breath. Spots danced before her eyes, and she shook her head, trying to clear it. She knew she didn’t have much time. Hacking coughs racked her body, sapping her strength. David screamed curses at her in Spanish.

  She leapt up and grabbed the very next thing she could find, a heavy potted plant sitting on the end table. She whirled around to find David on his knees, struggling to pull the fork from his neck. He saw her a split second before she reached him.

  Too late.

  She smashed it over his head. His eyes rolled up and he collapsed, the fork still protruding from his neck and blood bubbling out onto the carpet.

  Worried he’d be up again soon, Caty ran to the bedroom. Dorian was awake and crying. She skidded to a stop in front of his crib and leaned down to pick him up. He dropped his stuffed animal, and screamed even louder, but there was no time to worry about that. Caty ran back through the house, leaping over David’s unconscious body, not even stopping for her shoes.

  She ran out the front door and into the street. The gravel road bit through
her socks, and the wintry air sliced through her thin blouse, making her shiver. Dorian cried even louder.

  She turned to look over her shoulder and make sure that David wasn’t chasing her. No sign of him yet. Good—

  Smack! Caty bounced off something solid. Dorian cried out with the impact, and Caty blinked, stunned. She found herself face to face with a vaguely familiar married couple. They were walking back from the bus stop outside the neighborhood.

  “Are you okay?” the woman asked, her brow pinched with concern. Her husband winced and rubbed his belly—the something solid Caty had run into.

  “I…” Caty looked from one to the other, not sure what to say, where to start… Just thinking about it was overwhelming. She burst into tears.

  “Oh no, don’t cry—Eduardo, debemos llevarla a la casa.”

  Eduardo nodded.

  They took her back to their house, gave her a warm cup of tea, and coaxed her story out of her. Soon after that they called the police. Half an hour later they arrived at Caty’s house, but David was already gone. The bloodstains and the fork he left behind confirmed her story.

  The police took her to the station to get her statement. As soon as she was done, she told them that she wanted to join the fleet headed for Wonderland, and they called NAS Lemcroft to relay her request. They assured her that she and Dorian would be welcome to join the last group of colonists, but they would have to hurry.

  Hours later, Caty sat on a couch in the police captain’s office, waiting for him to take her home so she could go pack her things. Dorian was exhausted from crying and had settled for chewing on a soother the police captain had found for him. His bright baby eyes were wide and staring.

  Caty bounced him on her knee and rubbed his back. “We’re going to be okay, Dorian.”

  He made a babbling sound that sounded agreeable to her. She smiled and pulled him close for a hug. “Yes, there’s nothing to worry about anymore. We’re going far away.”

  Dorian sounded like he wanted to cry again, but she shushed him and patted his back. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  She really believed that. She’d read the brochures. Warm, tropical jungles. Sparkling blue oceans, empty, unsettled land as far as the horizon… nothing dangerous and nothing harmful, just one big, natural paradise. Best of all, they’d be leaving Earth and all of its problems far behind, including and especially David.

  He’d eluded police custody so far, but it didn’t matter. Even if they didn’t catch him for years, he would never be able to follow her and Dorian to Wonderland. They would be safe. Making it on her own still scared her, but Dorian was older now, and the Alliance had promised ample benefits for colonists on Wonderland.

  Dorian started fussing again, and she began bouncing him on her knee once more.

  “Shhh. It’s okay. We’re okay. We’re going to be okay,” she amended, this time more to reassure herself than Dorian.

  * * *

  “Davorian, set course and cruising speed. Forward thrust three Gs,” Alexander ordered.

  “Aye-aye, setting course.”

  Alexander felt himself growing progressively heavier. It became hard to speak, hard to breathe, hard to move, but his mind remained free to interact with his control console and to think about recent developments.

  The Confederate fleet had preceded them into the wormhole, and they were now more than a light second away. The Alliance was determined to catch up and hold to that distance rather than let them get any further ahead. Alliance colonists would end up trailing behind them by nearly a week, but that was better for their safety.

  Alexander wondered why the Alliance fleet wasn’t hanging back, too. The fact that they insisted on keeping no more than 300,000 klicks between them and the enemy told him that there was still a chance the two fleets might clash. One light second was well out of effective laser range, but it was still well within missile range, and it wouldn’t take much time for Alliance missiles to catch up with the Confederate fleet.

  Alexander gritted his teeth through what seemed like hours of high-G exposure. His lungs and muscles began to ache, and his heart labored with the strain. It felt like he had an elephant sitting on his chest.

  Soon they passed through the mouth of the Looking Glass and Alexander watched the starfield curve up and warp around them like the inside of a fish bowl. Suddenly the elephant got up, and Alexander could breathe again.

  “Range and cruising speed attained,” Davorian announced.

  “Finally…” Carter muttered.

  Alexander rolled his shoulders, feeling suddenly light as a feather. “Stay sharp everyone.” He turned his attention from the main holo display to the tactical map hovering between his and Carter’s control stations. The map showed a wireframe model of the wormhole curving around them in a funnel shape. Racing down the center of that funnel was a cluster of red dots—almost thirty Confederate warships, and easily twice as many colony ships—followed by a smaller cluster of friendly green dots. Being a destroyer-class, the Lincoln was best suited to intercepting enemy missiles and drones, so it was leading the charge down the gullet of the wormhole with a group of six other destroyers.

  This time literally hours did pass with no detectable change between the two fleets. Both sides seemed content with the standoff. Alexander tried to cover a yawn, but his hand hit glass, and he remembered he was wearing a helmet. He shook his head and blinked the glaze from his eyes. He needed to keep his head in the game.

  “Captain, I’m detecting a change in the enemy fleet. They’re accelerating, sir. Five Gs. Wait… ten, no twelve.”

  “Confirm that, Vasquez. Take your time.”

  “Confirmed,” she said a moment later. “They’re holding steady at twelve Gs.”

  “They must’ve hit the G-tanks already. Someone’s in a hurry.”

  “Captain, I have orders coming in from Admiral Wilson,” Hayes reported from the comms. “We’re to set the autopilot to match speed and heading with the Confederate fleet and configure the auto-fire controls to launch our missiles in the event that sensors detect incoming weapons fire from the enemy fleet.”

  “Acknowledged—Cardinal, Davorian, set the autos. Everyone else lock your stations and stand by. Hayes, alert the rest of the crew. Wonderland, here we come. Again.”

  Silence answered that quip. A few crew members groaned, others grumbled. Alexander knew just how they felt. This wasn’t exactly the homecoming they’d expected.

  Over the next few minutes all stations reported ready and Alexander gave the order for them to leave the bridge and head down to the G-tanks.

  This time as Alexander stripped and placed his pressure suit and clothes in the locker beside his G-tank, he didn’t take pains to avoid looking at McAdams, he admired her openly, and she regarded him back with a sly smile. Doctor Crespin came and configured McAdams’ tank. It swished open, and Alexander watched her turn and give him a parting salute before crossing the threshold.

  On the other side of him, Alexander heard Seth Ryder make a lewd comment about the look McAdams had given him. He ignored it. Crespin came by to configure his tank. A few seconds later, it swished open, too, and in he went.

  Alexander hooked himself up to life support in a fraction of the time it usually took. As the water rose past his lips and his liquid ventilator whirred to life, his mind drifted away on a lullaby of drugs into the random nonsense of dreams.

  He dreamed about him and McAdams back on Wonderland, but this time as colonists of the new world. Somehow, they already had a baby together, a girl. In his dream she was already walking and talking, playing outside in a fenced garden, teasing the plants to life. Next door Alexander saw a familiar face peering over the fence.

  It was Caty.

  “You left me,” she said, her blue eyes sad and accusing.

  He shook his head, his mouth agape. What was she doing there? “You moved on,” he explained.

  “You told me to move on.” Caty’s gaze slid away, and Alexander foll
owed it to where McAdams was busy trying to make peace between their daughter and an angry red-leafed sapling. “You told me to move on so you could be with her,” Caty said.

  Alexander shook his head, feeling sick to his stomach. “No, that’s not true.”

  “Yes, it is.” Caty turned away, disappearing from sight.

  An angry klaxon burst through the air and the sky flashed with a strange crimson light. Alexander’s head snapped up, and he saw missiles streaking through the sky, thousands of fighters buzzing and roaring, trying to intercept. The war had followed them to Wonderland.

  “No!” he screamed, his gaze darting to McAdams and their baby girl once more. They were still playing with the plants, oblivious to the danger all around them. A flaming piece of debris fell screaming from the sky and engulfed them both in an angry flare of light.

  Alexander’s eyes snapped open and the klaxons sounded suddenly louder and clearer than they had in his dream. Red lights flashed, shimmering off the wet, glistening sides of his G-tank. He felt his throat burning with the invading pressure of the tracheal tube. Doctor Crespin had checked him out after the last time and said it was a mild irritation—nothing to worry about.

  Alexander fought through mental sludge to understand what was happening. The color-coded lights made a faster connection in his brain than the more ambiguous klaxons—someone sounded general quarters.

  An electric jolt of adrenaline spurred him to action and he hurried to disconnect himself from life support.

  Something had gone badly wrong.

  CHAPTER 40

  Catalina sat strapped into an acceleration couch on the floor of a large passenger cabin with row upon row of seats, though she wasn’t sure they could be called seats when everyone was lying down on the deck.

  She lifted her head and studied the orderly row of shiny white helmets at her feet. It was unnerving to see so many people in the cabin with her, yet hear none of the noise. Their helmets were near-perfect insulators, making the cabin so quiet that Caty could actually hear her heart beating.