Modulus Echo

by Toby Neighbors

  “Duke Simeon and I will be upstairs, then,” Pershing said. “Preparing a message to the Fleet. I’ll be back before we make the next jump to hyperspace.”

  She got up stiffly, in Ben’s opinion, and left the bridge without looking at him. He got the impression she wasn’t happy.

  “Any progress on your work, Professor?” Kim asked. “Are we going to be able to close the wormhole?”

  “Nothing is impossible,” Jones said from his place at the communications console. “But I haven’t discovered a safe way to seal the portal yet.”

  “Safe?” Kim asked. “What does that mean?”

  “The gravity event we created has bent space, connecting two places that are very far apart. It is stable. That’s the good news. Trying to close it is dangerous because the effect could have devastating consequences to the Celeste system. Perhaps even the entire galaxy.”

  “Well, we don’t want that,” Kim said.

  “What type of consequences?” Nance asked.

  “I can’t say for certain,” Jones said. “My research indicates it could tear the very fabric of space. Leaving a black riff.”

  “What’s that?” Ben asked.

  “I coined the term,” Jones said. “Imagine a black hole that extends the length of a solar system. It could change the very nature of our galaxy.”

  “That does sound bad,” Kim said.

  “Of course it does,” Jones said. “These are cosmic forces we are talking about. I am sure there must be a way to close a wormhole safely, but I haven’t found it yet.”

  “Well, keep working,” Ben said. “Right now, you’re the only thing keeping us in the general’s good graces.”

  “What’s that mean?” Nance asked. There wasn’t a trace of worry in her voice, but Ben could see the fear in her eyes.

  “It means the only reason she’s here is that flux shield.”

  “Which is broken,” Kim said.

  “Precisely,” Ben admitted. “If I don’t get it working, she has no reason to keep us around.”

  “Is that such a bad thing?” Kim asked.

  “She isn’t going to just let us ride off into the sunset,” Ben replied. “My guess is she’ll find a way to ground us, probably on Yelsin Prime.”

  “What for?” Nance asked.

  “Yeah, they’re talking about offering the Confederacy amnesty,” Kim said.

  “Somehow I don’t think that extends to us,” Ben replied. “If we don’t earn some favor, we could be in trouble.”

  “So we have to get the flux shield working,” Kim said. “Is that possible?”

  “Sure, with the right part,” Ben said.

  “We won’t have to go back to Torrent Four to find it, will we?” Nance asked.

  “I don’t think so. The problem is we may not have time to do a search,” Ben said.

  “Or go pick something up if it isn’t close,” Kim added.

  “I’m not sure what the general’s plans are, but I can’t imagine she isn’t going back to the Celeste system as soon as she has some warships at her command.”

  “And if we can’t get the shield going,” Nance asked, “what happens to us then?”

  “I don’t know,” Ben said. “And I don’t think I want to know either.”

  Chapter 38

  When the Modulus Echo appeared in the Yelsin system, everyone was tired. It had been a long, tense cruise. Ben was anxious to have the royal family off his ship. It felt wrong to have the faces of the Royal Imperium government he had hated for so long in such close proximity.

  General Pershing was back on the bridge, as cool as ever. Ben found it impossible to know what she was thinking, which only made him fear the worst. Without the flux shield, the ship was vulnerable, and if he couldn’t get it working soon, he and his friends might be in trouble too.

  “Approaching Yelsin Prime at cruising speed,” Kim said.

  “ETA?” Pershing asked.

  “Forty-two minutes to orbit,” Nance replied. “One hour, twelve minutes to land.”

  “We aren’t landing,” Pershing said.

  Ben glanced at Kim, but she was focused on her instruments as she flew the ship toward orbit. Fear was becoming more tangible with each passing moment. He didn’t know what the general was up to, and that only made him more tense.

  “Ben,” Pershing said. “I need your help. Let’s talk in the lounge.”

  “Okay,” Ben said.

  He was suddenly cold, his body shivering slightly. Most of his life, he had been on his own. He had spent over ten years in the salvage fields on Torrent Four, avoiding the Scalpers, who would have killed or enslaved him. Facing danger had become almost second nature. He didn’t like it, but he knew what to watch for. Perhaps even more important, he knew what to expect. If the Scalpers had caught him, or even if the Royal Imperium forces had captured him, he had known what dreadful fate awaited. But things were different with the general, and it was the unknown that frightened him most of all.

  The general closed the door to the lounge for privacy. The severe look on her face made him nervous.

  “I have a job for you,” she said.

  “Okay,” Ben replied, trying to keep the fear from his voice.

  “The queen has named me admiral general and given me command of the Fleet, but that isn’t enough to stop the aliens.”

  “It isn’t?” Ben said, not sure what else to say.

  “No. I sent word for more ships before we left the Yelsin system, but as you can see,” she pointed to the wall display, which showed Yelsin Prime in the distance as they made their approach, “the Fleet is divided.”

  “I don’t understand,” Ben said.

  He could see that there were only a few ships in the system. Two were transport vessels—big boxy ships that were designed to carry soldiers from one system to another. They had sizable hangers, which were filled with drop ships that could fly between space and planetary atmospheres with groups of soldiers. What they didn’t have were fighters, or even much in the way of weapons on the large transport vessels themselves. There was a light cruiser in orbit. She was twice the size of the Echo but no match for the large alien ships. And another of the surveillance vessels like the Deception, which had been the first human spacecraft the aliens had captured. Ben didn’t know a lot about the stealthy spy ships, but he knew they weren’t built for fighting. He didn’t even know if the surveillance ship carried weapons.

  “The queen and I have sent a message to the Fleet,” Pershing explained. “But in the absence of direct authority, I fear that most of the Fleet’s vessels will not respond to our orders. Many ships are staffed with political appointees, not officers trained to see the danger we’re in. They’ll be thinking of how to gain advantage in their political careers, not about how to protect the human race.”

  “They won’t come?” Ben asked.

  “Some will, I’m sure,” Pershing said. “But not enough. And not soon enough. What’s needed at the moment are ships and ground fighters. I want to reach out to the Confederacy.”

  “Okay,” Ben said, still not sure what the general wanted from him.

  “And I want you to be our liaison.”

  “Me? Why? I don’t have any standing with the Confederacy,” Ben said. “I was telling you the truth when I said we’re not rebels.”

  “But you have connections,” Pershing said. “I can’t just send out a blanket request to the Confederacy. They won’t believe it, and they certainly won’t act.”

  “They’ll think it’s a trap,” Ben said.

  “Exactly. What I need is an introduction. Every minute that goes by could bring more ships into the Celeste system. The danger is growing exponentially. We need to act, and we need to have contingencies in place.”

  “Okay, so what can I do?”

  “Send a message to your people,” Pershing said. “Set up a meeting. Use the search for your broken components as the reason, but make sure you get someone to meet with you. Someone who can take a mess
age to the leaders of the rebellion. And don’t mention the fact that I’ll be with you.”

  “You don’t want them to know,” Ben said, finally starting to realize what Pershing was up to.

  “Like you said, if they know we’re coming, they won’t come. They’ll think it’s a trap.”

  “They might just kill us,” Ben said. “Have you thought of that?”

  “I have,” Pershing said. “It’s an acceptable risk. We need their help. They need ours. For the moment, we have a common enemy, and until the aliens are removed from our galaxy and the wormhole closed, no one can afford to focus on anything else. If the leaders of the rebellion choose to ignore the threat posed by the aliens, they might take control of a few systems. And who knows, the aliens might move slowly, allowing the rebels to hold their systems for a few decades, but eventually the entire galaxy will be lost. They have to see that. The only way they get what they want is through helping us stop the aliens now.”

  “I understand,” Ben said. “Unfortunately, my contact hates everything you stand for.”

  “I will make him see reason,” Pershing said. “It has to be done.”

  “I’ll reach out, but we’ll have to go to him,” Ben said.

  “I expected as much.”

  “He’ll want to meet on neutral ground.”

  “You have a place in mind?”

  “I do, actually,” Ben said. “I’ll send a message. When do you want to leave?”

  “As soon as we can transfer most of the royal family. But you should know, the queen and Duke Simeon are staying on board. We’ll need them to assure whoever we speak with that we’re serious. Alpha team will stay on as well to serve as protection for the royals.”

  “Okay, tell Nance to plot a course for the Skopes system,” Ben said.

  Pershing’s eyes narrowed. Ben could tell she was surprised by the destination and that she wanted to say something. Her lips compressed into a line and she turned away. It was the first sign she had given since coming aboard that she wasn’t fully in control. The Skopes system had no habitable planets, but it was the location of the Brimex solar systems space station. Ben guessed that the commercial installation being a meeting place for Confederates was news to the general, but she refused to admit her surprise.

  Pershing left the room and Ben breathed a sigh of relief. If the general needed the rebels, then Ben and his crew still had value to her. It was enough to calm his nerves until he considered the fact that the Confederates might consider them traitors and simply kill him rather than hear what the general had to offer.

  Chapter 39

  Grubat walked down the corridor of his ship, which was now a permanent structure on the planet he had named New Krah. The ship, which had been constructed in outer space had never been intended to land. It took all the ship’s power to keep it from crashing in the planet’s rich atmosphere. Grubat had watched the massive vessel come down from the sky, leaving a trail of black smoke across the pristine sky. But once it was down, the smoke disappeared, and the vessel was large enough to house a sizable number of workers and warriors. It also gave them a power source and a communication array. When the next wave of ships from the Krah Empire arrived, he would be able to direct them across the new galaxy and introduce them to their new home world.

  “My lord,” Yarl Hassik said as he strode down the hallway toward him. “The prisoners are here.”

  “Very good,” Grubat said. “Check the translation program. The air here is full of signals with the natives’ language. We should have access to their speech soon.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Hassik said. “Is there any word from the ship that followed the native craft out of the system?”

  Grubat frowned. Yarl Hassik called him lord, a sign of respect, yet he questioned Grubat as if he were an equal. It angered the chieftain, and his first instinct was to strike his underling. Yet a loss of control would signal weakness, no matter how powerful the blow might be. Instead, he let his headdress tendrils wave to show his agitation.

  “I have not heard,” Grubat said slowly. “As you can see, I have been busy here.”

  “I have angered you, my lord. I meant no disrespect.”

  Hassik bowed, but only slightly. It was a thin show of submission. Had Grubat attacked his ambitious underling, Hassik would have known and been able to defend himself. A proper lesson would be necessary, but there would be time for that. Ambition was good, and Grubat understood the enticing nature of being in a world rich with targets, but Hassik seemed to think Grubat’s decision to come to the planet was a sign of weakness. He would disavow his underling of that mistake sooner rather than later.

  “I only ask,” Hassik continued, standing up straight again, “because the ship it pursued returned to the system.”

  “I am aware,” Grubat said. “Our prey seeks to learn about us. They must believe they stand a chance at defeating us.”

  Hassik growled. “Perhaps there is more than meets the eye with this species.”

  “We have much to learn,” Grubat said. “Which is why securing this system is so important. We must preserve the pathway for the empire to expand.”

  “Perhaps I should return to orbit,” Hassik said. “I can take command of the armada.”

  Grubat chuckled. Hassik was desperate to get off the rich world his master had taken. Was it possible the younger Krah couldn’t see the value of the planet? Many of their kind had never seen the Krah home world. They were bred in outer space, living their entire lives on warships, outposts, and space stations. Being assigned to a planet had been a little more than administrative duty for centuries as the Krah Empire enslaved their neighbors. But none of the worlds in their galaxy were as rich and ripe as New Krah. It was what his people referred to as a world of the first order, with appropriate gravity, breathable atmosphere, and temperatures within the accepted range for the Krah people. Here, they could live without terraforming, which had never produced a planet with acceptable living conditions to be called a true home for their species. Here, their people could thrive without the need for stolen technology and resources. It didn’t even require extermination of the dominant species. The natives here occupied only a single settlement on what amounted to a tiny fraction of the planet’s landmasses. The sheer extravagance of it astounded Grubat, but it seemed lost on his subordinate.

  “No,” Grubat said. “There is still much to be done here. I will question the prisoners. We must find out as much as we can about these creatures. Return to the bridge. I await word from the En’Galla. Inform me as soon as she returns through the portal.”

  “As you wish, my lord,” Hassik said, though Grubat could hear the strain in his underling’s voice.

  He watched Yarl Hassik leave. The younger warrior’s tendrils were stiff. He had much to learn. His body language gave his hidden ambitions away. Unless it was all an act. Grubat could not afford to underestimate anyone. He was a warlord in deed, if not yet in official decree from the Priestly caste. He would need their blessings, which was why he had given so much in offerings to the temple at the Algonny Outpost. It was vitally important that he learn to conduct himself as a true warlord, and that meant anticipating the actions of his followers as well as his enemies.

  Grubat went down to what had been the lower level of his ship but was currently the ground level of his palace. He stopped at the large cargo opening, breathing in the rich air. It was full of wonderful odors. Grubat could smell the dark soil, the decay of vegetation, and the perfume of wildflowers all mixed together. It was wonderful, almost intoxicating, after centuries of life aboard ships that recycled air and stank of confined spaces.

  The light of the sun seemed overly bright, but Grubat guessed it was only his perception. He had been in low-light environments for too long. In time, his eyes would adjust to the glorious light of a star again. He left the opening and found his way to the two tiny holding cells where the prisoners were being held. One was obviously a warrior. The first creature was not unlike th
e Krah—a biped with evident musculature and enhanced limbs. The other was a mystery. Even the priests of the Krah Empire were stronger and less craven than the weeping, rotund creature in the other holding cell.

  One of Grubat’s tendrils stood out from his headdress, and the chieftain heard a voice in his ear from one of the Yarls on the bridge of the ship.

  “My lord, the translator program has a rudimentary grasp of the native language. You can question the prisoners.”

  “Very good,” Grubat said.

  The tendril dropped, and Grubat gazed at the creature of the Warrior caste. He was seated on the bench in the holding cell, his head down. Grubat looked at the prisoner’s legs for several minutes. They appeared to be simple spring feet on metal pylons that replaced the lower portion of his leg. He pressed the button that opened the door to the holding cell.

  Grubat entered as the prisoner looked up. For a split second, Grubat saw determination in the creature’s eyes. He thought of attacking the Krah chieftain but thought better of it. It was the correct decision, but it puzzled Grubat at the same time. He would never let an opportunity to attack his captor pass if he was actually ever captured. It seemed the creature was a coward, as his weapons suggested.

  “Stand up,” Grubat ordered.

  He heard his order repeated by a device implanted in his headdress. The language sounded whiney and weak, but it had the desired result. The prisoner rose to his feet and faced Grubat. He would get his answers from the prisoner, that much seemed obvious by his willingness to obey. It was almost anticlimactic. Grubat had hoped for a fight. His interrogation would have been much more satisfying if the prisoners resisted. But the information was the important thing. Grubat had much to learn of this new galaxy, and it was time he got the answers he needed.

  Chapter 40

  Major Luc Le Croix looked at the alien standing in the doorway of his cell and for a moment considered attacking the tall, powerfully built creature. It was a tempting idea. He had been held in the cell for hours, and without a window or timepiece, it was impossible to tell just how long he had been imprisoned. The only factor of time was his hunger and thirst. The aliens had given him nothing to eat since taking him aboard their spaceship, and he was beginning to feel weak from dehydration. But he also knew that though it felt like he had been imprisoned for days on end, the time was much shorter. Three days was the standard length a human could live without water before major deficits began to impair their mental and physical functions. Le Croix’s head hurt, and his stomach was growling with hunger, but he could think clearly, which probably meant he’d only been held captive for a day or so.