“And every station is still at General Quarters?”
“Yes, sir. General Quarters stations are all reported manned and ready.”
“All hands, this is the captain,” Sheppard commed. “We’ve successfully completed our jump and are working to determine where we are. In an effort to expedite that, we’re going to cross back into our own universe, but we don’t know what we’ll find there. Stand by to jump, and be ready for anything.”
“All right,” Sheppard said, looking around the bridge. “Everyone ready?” When everyone had confirmed they were, he added, “Jump us back to our universe, please, Solomon.”
“I am currently unable to.”
“Why is that?”
“Because Lieutenant Bradford disassembled the jump modules to get the wire required to run the cabling for the time machine to work.”
“So that’s what he did?”
“Yes, sir, that is what he did. I cannot jump back to our universe until he replaces it.”
“Well, then, please ask him to do so.”
* * *
Bridge, TSS Vella Gulf, Unknown System
Everything flashed as the ship jumped out of the Jinn Universe.
“Well, look at that,” the sensor operator said. “There’s a facility on the gas giant in this universe.”
“A facility?” the CO asked.
“Yes, sir. There’s a really large station in orbit, with a number of…I don’t know—they look like tentacles hanging down into the atmosphere of the planet.”
“I find it likely they are mining the gasses in the planet’s atmosphere,” Solomon said.
“Looks like we’re going to have company,” the sensor officer added. “I was watching the station, and two shuttle-sized ships just launched and appear to be coming this way.”
“Shields are up?”
“Yes,” the defensive systems officer replied. “Shields are up.”
“I think we’re being hailed,” the comms officer said, “but it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”
“Solomon, what do you think?” Captain Sheppard asked. “Can you make anything out of it?”
“I believe it to be some sort of machine-to-machine language,” Solomon replied, “although I do not believe it is a surprise that I have never seen anything like this, either. I imagine no one from our time has seen anything like it in many millennia.”
“Machine-to-machine?” Captain Sheppard inquired.
“I think it is some sort of datalink or data network that is trying to log us in, but I lack the protocols to successfully negotiate linkage,” Solomon noted. “I am attempting to query it and find a common interface.”
“Understood,” Captain Sheppard said. “Make sure you don’t leave yourself vulnerable to being taken over.” He paused and then asked, “How long do you think it’ll take?”
“Not long. My communications are considerably faster than Terran. We have already developed a common reference and are trading what you would think of as vocabulary. We will be able to communicate with them…now.”
“Can you put them on screen?”
“No, sir. I currently have an audio converter in place. Their video network is substantially different from ours and incorporates data streams that ours do not; it is possible they do not see the way we do, or they provide additional information with transmission.”
“Okay, give me the audio, then.”
“Ship entering the system, this is Liltor Central Control. State your business with the Mineral Cartel.”
“This is Captain Sheppard of the Terran Ship Vella Gulf,” Captain Sheppard replied. “We’re unfamiliar with the Mineral Cartel; however, we would like to pick up provisions for our ship. We’ve come a long way.”
“How can you be unfamiliar with the Mineral Cartel?” the voice asked. “Although we are not the largest cartel, we are in the top five in terms of total revenue. What kind of backward planet is Terran that you haven’t heard of the Mineral Cartel?”
“Our planet is Terra,” the CO replied, “but it is a very long way from here.”
“Which cartel owns this Terra? It is not in our databanks.”
“Captain Sheppard, my systems are being aggressively probed,” Solomon said. “They are trying to breach my security protocols. They have been unable to penetrate the firewalls I put in place for the Enemy, but it is possible they have alternate means of penetration I am unfamiliar with.”
“Do what you need to protect yourself,” the CO said. He switched to the comm system. “We would be happy to tell you all about Terra, but your assault on our computer’s systems needs to stop right now. Is this how you treat everyone who comes here?”
“Strangers who just appear in the system without using the stargate? I would say, ‘yes,’ but you are the first to ever do it, so the data set is limited.” The voice paused for a few seconds, then added, “We have ceased our probe, but the senior cartel officer on-station has decreed that your senior officer must come down to meet with him to explain your appearance.”
“And if we refuse?” Sheppard asked.
“Then you will not be using the stargates in this system. If you can’t leave the way you came, I hope your motors are good, and you are well provisioned. The next closest system is 15 light years away.”
“Solomon, what does he mean we won’t be using the stargates in this system? Where are the stargates? Are there forces positioned there to prevent us from reaching them?”
“I haven’t seen any warships in this system at all. There are two stargates, but they appear strange; they don’t look the same as any stargates I’ve seen before.”
“Is it possible they’re able to control the stargates in the here and now?” the CO asked. “I thought the stargates were always ‘on.’”
“In our time, they are,” Solomon replied, “however, it’s possible the people of this era are able to control them—to turn them on and off, or maybe into ‘receive only.’ Much of their technology was lost.”
“So if that’s true, the only way we’ll be able to use the stargates here is to play nicely with whoever’s in charge.”
“That would seem to make sense.”
The CO sighed and turned to Calvin at the back of the bridge. “All right, hero, time to earn your pay.”
“Sir, you know I hate it when you call me that, right?”
“Indeed I do.”
“Also, sir, I have to ask. Giving the Enemy the finger?”
The CO chuckled. “I was hoping I could distract them from whatever they were doing to Solomon. While I figured Solomon still had the dead man’s switch so we could jump to the Jinn Universe if needed, I didn’t want to lose the time it would have taken for him to rebuild and reboot himself, nor did I want to find out the Enemy had found a new way to attack Solomon that didn’t allow the dead man’s switch to happen.”
“Is that possible?”
“I’m sure it is.” He smiled. “Besides, I always had ‘Laugh in the face of danger’ as one of the things on my bucket list. I think I can safely cross that one off now.”
Calvin’s jaw dropped. “Really? You taunted the Enemy—someone who’s destroyed the galaxy—just to get it off your bucket list?”
“No, but it sure sounds good, doesn’t it?”
* * *
Shuttle, Mineral Cartel Station, Unknown System
Calvin followed the station operator’s directions as he piloted the shuttle into a large docking bay, landed, and shut down the main systems. He left the auxiliary power on to provide air and power to the ship. “Ready to go?” he asked the CO, who’d ridden down in the shuttle’s copilot seat.
“Not really, but there’s no time like the present.” The CO nodded to the personnel moving about the hangar bay. “Looks like they have all types here.”
Calvin looked out the shuttle’s canopy. The lineman who’d given him parking instructions had looked like a bipedal dog; in addition, there were several other races represented, includ
ing a humanoid one, one that looked like giant ants, and an ursine-like race that stood seven feet tall.
“It’ll be interesting to see who’s in charge,” Calvin said. “I’m looking forward to finding out where and when we are.”
“Me, too,” the CO replied. He got up and went to the main hatch, but stopped and looked back into the cargo bay. “You boys and girls be good while we’re away.”
“Yes, sir,” Master Chief said. He waved a hand to the exoskeleton-clad troopers arrayed behind him. “Just give us a shout if things go sideways, sir.”
“I will, although I certainly hope it won’t be necessary.”
Calvin opened the door and the boarding ramp extended. “After you, sir.”
The CO went through the hatch, and Calvin followed him down the ramp to where two of the ant creatures were waiting for them. Almost eight feet long, the majority of their body was in the back section, supported by four legs. The front two legs and the head were held off the ground like a praying mantis. The top legs were obviously manipulative in nature, as one of them held a datapad of some sort in its claw. The creature had a belt with a number of pouches and objects hanging from it, although none of them appeared to be a weapon. The ants bowed as Calvin and the CO approached, with one ant’s antennae almost hitting Calvin. The Terrans both bowed in return, although Calvin was careful not to get caught up in the antennae.
“Greetings,” the one with the datapad said. “We are here to escort you to the administrator. Please follow me.” He turned and began walking.
“The administrator?” the CO asked.
“Yes, he is the officer responsible for all the company’s presence in-system.”
“But I thought you were a cartel—the Mineral Cartel, right?”
The creature turned and looked at the CO. “Where are you from?”
“A long way from here.”
“Obviously so.” It turned and began walking again.
The CO looked at Calvin, and he shrugged. It didn’t make any sense to him either, and Calvin wasn’t sure how much info he wanted to share about their quest. They followed the ant with the datapad—the other one brought up the rear—and it led them off the hangar deck and into the station proper. The ant walked for a minute through the maze of the station, then they caught a lift, which took them up eight levels to what appeared to be the top of the station, or at least the top button on the lift control pad.
When the lift door opened, Calvin realized they had indeed reached the penthouse office suite, as there was a level of opulence unseen on the lower level. Real wood—or an amazing simulation of it—filled the waiting room the lift dropped them off at, along with a number of objects under glass, and a level of trim work—especially in gold—he hadn’t seen below. While the lower level was for workers and getting work done, this level was for the executive in charge.
The ant tapped something into his datapad, one of the doors opened, and it motioned for them to go into the room beyond. Calvin and the CO walked into the room to find a large, executive-style conference table with a variety of seats, benches, and standing spaces beside it. The ant with the datapad followed them in, while the other waited outside and shut the door.
“Please take a seat in whatever method works for you,” the ant said as it straddled a bench that was perpendicular to the table and relaxed onto it. “The administrator will be here shortly.”
The Terrans found a bench that was parallel with the table edge and both sat down on it. Whatever creature normally used it was significantly larger; the table edge was at their mid-chest level.
“So,” the CO said, looking at the ant, “who are you and what do you do here?”
“I am the chief disruptor,” the ant replied.
“I’ve never heard of that title before. That sounds…interesting.”
“I am the station’s problem solver,” the ant replied. “When there are issues, I disrupt them.”
“Are we problems?”
“That remains to be seen, although I hope not, for your sakes. Administrator Yorch tends to deal with problems…permanently.”
“So we don’t want to get on his bad side.”
“If you intend to outlive this interview, I would not advise it.”
Before the CO could ask anything else, the door opened, and a large humanoid walked in. It could almost have passed for human—its face was close to it, anyway, although instead of a nose, it had a hole that opened and closed when it took a breath. The second set of arms, however, made it obvious the administrator was not human.
The administrator sat down at the end of the table and stared at what little it could see of the Terrans. “Who, and what, are you?” the administrator asked after a few moments of inspection.
“I’m Captain Sheppard, the commanding officer of the Terran spaceship Vella Gulf. This is my special projects officer, Lieutenant Commander Hobbs.”
The administrator looked at the ant, who shook its head.
“We do not have any record of a Terra or a Vella Gulf,” the administrator said, “much less of either of you.”
“That isn’t terribly surprising,” the CO said, “as we’re from the future.”
“Excuse me,” the administrator said, “but your translator just malfunctioned. It said you were from the future.”
“That’s right. Neither Terra nor the Vella Gulf will exist in this timeline for what we think is another fifty thousand years or so.”
The administrator blinked and sat back. “What is that supposed to mean?”
The ant with the datapad leaned forward. “You are trying the administrator’s patience. Your next answer had better be a good one, or dire consequences will result.”
“Okay,” the CO said, also leaning forward, “I will do my best to be as clear as I can. We could have made up a story, but we are unfamiliar with your culture and decided the truth was best. We come from the future, as I said, about fifty thousand years in the future. We were trying to go back 57,357 years, but we don’t know exactly how far we’ve come, because we had to use an experimental technology to get here.”
“Uh huh.” The administrator cocked his head. “If you are from the future, why did you come here? What did you hope to achieve?”
“There is an Enemy in our time that we can’t defeat. We’d hoped to come here and obtain advanced technology from this time period that we don’t have in order to defeat them.”
“That makes no sense,” the administrator replied. “Why would you go back in time to get technology? If you are from the future, surely technology has advanced between now and then to where yours would be better than ours. For that matter, why would you go back in time at all? Why wouldn’t you go forward?”
“Those are all good questions,” the CO said. “The truth of the matter is, between now and our time, something happens that wipes out all civilization, and, in our time, we don’t have the same level of technology as once existed in the galaxy. As to why we didn’t go forward in time, the answer to that is easy—we don’t know how. We figured out how to go backward based on an enemy weapon that was used on us, but we don’t have the ability to go forward in time yet.”
“I think they are crazy, Boss,” the ant said. “Perhaps some sort of space-based dementia. I don’t know, but their answers do not make any sense. His last sentence alone discounts his entire story.”
“What do you mean?” the CO asked.
“You came here to get technology to help you in your fight?”
“Yes, we did.”
“But you have no way of taking that technology back to what you say is your ‘present day.’ What is the point of going back for technology if you have no way of taking it forward to when it is needed?”
“In our time, the Enemy was coming, and we either needed to leave, or we would have been destroyed. Although we didn’t know how—or if—we would ever be able to return, we had to go. If we were successful in going back in time, we’d have more time—in the here and now—to
try to understand the system and figure out how to reverse it and go back to the future again. Staying there to figure it out was certain death, for both us and our society.”
“The beauty of that argument,” the ant said, looking at the administrator, “is there is zero proof for any of it. They could show us some machinery on their ship and tell us it is a time machine, but they have no way to prove they actually came from the future.” He tapped his datapad a moment and added, “There is also the inconsistency about their enemies. They say the enemy is an all-powerful force, yet they were able to capture one of its weapons.”
“No—the Enemy is all powerful, at least as far as we are concerned,” the CO said. “The enemy we got the time-based weapon from is a different enemy we fought. We were able to beat them, despite the technology they used on us, and we recovered some of their weapons, which we reverse-engineered to get here.”
“If you defeated them, why didn’t you make them tell you how to use their weapons?” the administrator asked.
“Well, that’s sort of complicated,” the CO said. “See, the enemy we defeated isn’t from our universe—”
“I’ve heard enough,” the administrator said, rising from his seat. “You are right; they are crazy. Unbeatable enemies, enemies with time weapons, and other universes? What will they think of next?”
“What do you want me to do with them?” the ant asked.
“I don’t want them infecting anyone else with their lunacy. Toss them from the platform and send several squads to take over their ship. I am sure we can find a way to put it to use.”
“Wait just a minute!” the CO exclaimed, jumping from his seat. Calvin rose next to him, his hand on his laser pistol.
“You have wasted enough of my time as it is,” the administrator said. He opened the door, and six of the ant men poured in with rifles in their hands. “Have a nice visit to the planet.” With that, he stepped through the door and closed it behind him.
“Take them to the hangar bay and toss them over the side, then put together an assault force and capture their ship. Let me know when you have completed this.”
A Gulf in Time Page 12
