“I think what you’re looking for is self-governing,” the CO said. “The ability to decide, as a society, what you’re going to do.”
“Yes, that is it,” Rife said. “We want to be self-governing. It is an interesting concept, although hard to grasp when it goes against everything you have ever been taught.”
“The problem with freeing them from the Mineral Cartel, of course,” Calvin said, “is as soon as we leave, one of the Cartels will swoop in on them and try to take them over again. We’ll need to leave them with the ability to defend themselves.”
The CO nodded slowly. “While I agree with you, in principal, we’re going to have to have a discussion about this without Ambassador Rife or any of his people here. There are…issues… which have to be discussed about how much we change the fabric of society here.”
“Yes, sir,” Calvin said. “Understood. Still, we need the Weebers as allies, and we owe it to them to give them a chance after we leave.”
The CO nodded. “Concur.”
“Okay,” Calvin said. “Those are the big reasons for needing a base of operations in the Weeber system.”
“You have more?”
“I do. Want to hear them?”
“Nope. I’m sold. How are we going to do this?”
Calvin smiled at Rife. “Well, sir, as it turns out, we have friends in the system who kind of know the place…
* * *
CO’s Conference Room, TSS Vella Gulf, Jangeth System
The CO motioned for Calvin to stay behind as everyone else walked out. Calvin nodded to Master Chief and then Administrator Rife, and Master Chief moved to take charge of the alien. Having taken care of that, Calvin joined the CO, who pointed to a chair next to him. “Have a seat,” the CO said. “I have two issues I want to discuss with you.”
Calvin smiled. “Yes, sir, I trust the Weebers.”
“Well, that’s indeed one of them, as everything relies on them, and we’re putting ourselves into their hands. What happens if they decide to throw us over for the Mineral Cartel?”
“I don’t think they will,” Calvin said. “Once they get a taste of freedom, they won’t want to give it up, and we’re their best chance of keeping it.”
“‘I don’t think’ is a long way from, ‘I’m sure,’” the CO said. “Everything we do from here on out is based on their support if we follow this plan of yours.”
“I know that, sir. Like I said, once they get—”
“Yes, the taste of freedom…I know,” the CO said, interrupting. “Still, I’m reminded of the jail that had an earthquake. Many of the cell doors sprang open, and the jail was a shambles, but none of the convicts left. They all stayed in their cells and waited for the jailers to come and reset the doors. Some, in fact, reset the doors themselves. Do you know why they did that?”
Calvin shook his head.
“They did it because they were all long-term inmates who’d each been there many years. While they knew freedom existed, they didn’t know how they’d adapt to it or where to start. It was easier just to stay with the status quo, as that was what they were familiar—and more comfortable—with. They knew what every day would bring, and that they would have three hot meals every day—something many of them didn’t have on the outside.”
“So you think the Weebers will throw off the ability to be free if given a chance to go back to cartel life?”
“I think freeing them will be an extremely chaos-inducing event. Many things will fail, and it’s possible that basic services will be disrupted. What if all the workers at the water treatment plants decide they don’t like the smell there and quit, and the supply of water is disrupted? There are many things along those lines that are possible if you just turn things open to ‘freedom,’ and there are always going to be those people who’ll take advantage of the chaos. Some people will be very appreciative of their new-found freedom, but for many of them, they’ll lose the stability of life they were accustomed to, and there’re going to be problems.”
“Okay, I’ll make sure Rife and his folks have a plan in place for a transition period before we allow anything like that to happen.”
The CO smiled and nodded. “I’m not saying it isn’t the right thing for them in the long run, but in the short run—that is, the time we’re here and need them to do what we say—there may be some disruptions if we just allow them off the chain, as it were.”
“That makes sense,” Calvin replied. “What was the second thing?”
“Regarding what we replicate in the next system, I take it you intend to introduce blueprints from our timeline—specifically the destroyer and how it’s armed. I also take it you want to have it built the same way as the Gulf, with jumping, Jinn Universe missiles.”
“Well, yes sir. To not do so would be to artificially limit ourselves.”
“That’s great and all, but once we do that, the Weebers are going to know those weapons exist, and even if we don’t explain them, they’re going to be curious about the tech. Hell, I was more than curious when it was used on me—I wanted it, too! They just lost three ships to those missiles. How do you think they’re feeling now?”
Calvin smiled ruefully. “Curious?”
The CO nodded. “And then some. Also, they’ll be on the bridge when we use them. They’re going to figure some things out, and we’re not going to be able to explain them away.”
“Yes, sir, I know. I planned all along to wipe the replicators’ memory banks when we left.”
“That isn’t the problem,” the CO said. “Even if you wipe the replicators, you can’t wipe the memories of everyone who’ll see the missiles in use. Once we’re gone, they’ll do everything they can to build similar weapons—oftentimes the greatest challenge to implementing something new is just to figure out what that thing is. If we show them, they’ll have a leg up on building it for themselves. There’s also the issue of where the strange metal the miners are digging comes from, and how we’re going to do all the transitions back and forth between the Jinn Universe. Someone is going to figure that out, too…or something will slip. We have to assume the word is going to get out about the existence of a parallel universe. And if the anti-planet is already populated, that alone will complicate things greatly.”
Calvin nodded. “Yes, sir; I think that’s a fair assessment.”
“So what’s the problem?” the CO asked. Calvin nodded. “The problem is I’m not sure what damage we’re doing by altering all these things. Introducing new technology. Giving the Weebers the concepts of self-determination. We’re altering the fabric of society in the galaxy.”
“It’s possible, sir, but I’ve talked to the scientists about this, and I don’t think it’s an issue. I’m of the belief that the timeline has a self-correcting feature—nothing we do here will change history, as something will happen to wipe out any changes we make. Heck, for all we know, our timeline exists the way it does because of what we’re doing here, right now. Maybe all this is a self-fulfilling prophecy—everything we do now is what’s required to bring about the events in our life we’ve already experienced.”
“What if we were to find Earth and leave our society a message? Specifically, ‘Don’t take quests from ancient civilizations and throw away everything they give you?”
Calvin chuckled. “As much as I’d like to try that—and am happy to leave that message on Earth, should we find it—the self-correcting theory states that something will happen to that message. The tube it’s in will corrode, and the message will get lost. A flood will take it to the bottom of the ocean, where it’s lost forever. Who knows? No matter what we do, something will happen to the message, or it won’t be received in time, no matter what we do.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Sir, I’m not sure of very much anymore, but I firmly believe that to be true, or I’d be recommending keeping as low a profile as possible. Even if we did that, though, we’d still be altering things, and since we are…”
“In
for a penny, in for a pound?”
“Yes, sir. Since we’ve already interfered in the timeline and nothing happened—at least nothing we know of—I think we just have to conduct business as usual and let everything play out as it will. To do anything else—”
“Will just inhibit our abilities and decrease our overall chances of success,” the CO finished. “Got it.” He sighed. “Okay, I’m in. I’m not sure I believe the whole ‘self-correcting’ feature of the timeline, but I don’t have anything else to go on, so we’ll just continue forward as briefed and hope we don’t kill our parents or something.”
“Yes, sir; I’ll certainly try not to.”
“Fine. That’s decided then,” the CO said. “Let’s go get our people back.”
* * * * *
Chapter Fifteen
Bridge, TSS Vella Gulf, Jangeth System
“Proprietor, you have my people,” the CO said, looking the proprietor in the eye on the view screen, “and you’ve used them as hostages, but I’m a believer in second chances. Because of this, I’m going to let you have a chance to give them back to me. If they’re on a shuttle in 10 minutes, I won’t destroy your station or harm you or any of your people. If, however, you decide to try and play games with me, you will lose that offer, and it will not be reinstated.
“So, what’s it going to be? Are you going to send my people back, or are we going to have to come and get them from you?”
“Your attachment to your people is pathetic, actually, for someone in your position. They are just minions, after all, and you are the proprietor of a ship with so much capability…so much potential. You and I could go far in this galaxy if we formed a partnership…maybe even depose the emperor. What do you say?”
“I say you have nine minutes remaining to have my people on a shuttle. You also haven’t given me an answer. What’s it going to be? “
“I am afraid I am going to have to decline your offer, generous though it may be. As soon as I were to let them go, I am sure you would go back on your word and either destroy the facility or kill me. Both of those are unacceptable. I am going places in this galaxy. You can either join up with me, or you will be crushed by me in the end.”
“I’m not sure where you get all this bravado,” the CO said. “It’s not like you have the ability to call for more ships. Administrator Rife tells me the next ship out of the replicator is another frigate, and we’ve already shown we can take on three of them. One ship alone? It doesn’t have a chance, as you well know.
“I also know you’ve sent for additional forces, but there’s no way they’ll arrive in time to save you. That’s eight minutes from now, in case you weren’t keeping up.”
“If you try to land on my station, I will kill all your people,” the proprietor said, a tinge of desperation now in his voice. “Do not think I won’t.”
“I’m sure you would,” the CO said. “You have a tremendous disregard for living beings that I find reprehensible. That’s why I’m not going to give you any false threats. If my people have to come down there to get my people back, they’ll kill anyone they encounter who tries to stop them. Including you.”
“You would not dare!” the proprietor screamed. “The Mineral Cartel will send all its ships after you, and they will destroy you!”
“They’ll try, I suppose, but in the end, they’ll end up like the frigates attached to my ship—useless hulks that aren’t good for anything more than recycling.”
The proprietor reached off camera and pulled Lieutenant Commander Brighton toward him with one of his upper hands. Both of his lower hands wrapped around her waist, while the upper hand moved to hold her chin in place. His other hand appeared holding a laser pistol, which he put to her forehead. “If you attack me, your squadron’s executive officer will be the first to go.”
The CO pushed a button, temporarily halting the communication, then looked over to where Calvin could be seen on a different screen. “He’s stalling, and he’s not going to give them back. Ever.”
Calvin nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Go and get our people,” the CO ordered, “and bring them home safely.”
“Yes, sir.”
* * *
Cockpit, Shuttle 01, Jangeth System
“You heard the man,” Calvin said. “Take us in.” The space station glittered in front of the stealthed shuttle, which had been in place for 30 minutes. No one had believed the proprietor would play fair, or even see that what they asked was in his best interest—the proprietor believed no one was trustworthy, so therefore, he was equally untrustworthy.
“You got it,” replied the shuttle’s pilot, Lieutenant Miguel ‘Ghost’ Carvalho. “Stand by to disembark. Three minutes to the first drop.”
“Thanks,” Calvin said. “We’ll be ready.” He walked to the back of the shuttle, where the Space Force waited. Several were making last minute checks, but most were resting. They’d been on far too many missions where the timeline changed, and all believed in being as well-rested as possible.
“We’re a ‘go,’” Calvin said, flashing the lights to get everyone’s attention. Those who’d been sleeping were instantly awake. “Shoot to kill,” he added when he saw everyone’s eyes were upon him. “Two minutes. Ramp coming down.” He punched the button and the back ramp lowered.
Within a few seconds, the space station came into view below them. “We’re over the first set of markers,” Ghost said over the shuttle’s PA as the ship flew through the inside of the station’s ring. By coming from the inside of the ring, the troops would be coming through the “ceiling” as the people inside the station would see it.
“Second Fire Team, that’s our cue,” Night said. He stepped off the ramp and started drifting toward the space station’s ring. The rest of the fire team followed him out in a tight string. They’d get to the station and find an entry portal, then they’d wait for Calvin’s team to get into place. Three of the aviators’ implants showed they were close by on the inside of the station.
“Thirty seconds to the second target,” Ghost advised.
“Got it,” Calvin said. The second target was Lights’ implant. As she was with the proprietor, Fire Team One—with its two cyborgs—was assigned to it, as there were likely to be more defenders there.
Calvin stepped off the ramp at the end of the string, was captured by the station’s gravity field, and slowly drifted down to the station. He could have used his jets to go faster, but the descent gave him time to look at the station. The first person—Master Chief, no doubt—touched down and immediately headed toward a flashing yellow light. According to Administrator Rife, the light indicated where the cargo airlocks were. Calvin goosed his jets a little to move in that direction.
The fire team gathered at the airlock and went inside. When he got the thumbs up from everyone, he clicked his comm twice, which was the “go” signal, and received two clicks back—Night had heard him, and they were ready, too. They had discussed a breaching entry—complete with an explosive decompression of parts of the station—but had decided they’d be just as likely to injure or kill their own people as the security forces.
Master Chief pressed the button, the door closed, and air began rushing into the airlock. The door opened, and the team raced out, weapons at the ready. They’d only gone about 50 feet when lights began flashing.
“Intruder alert! Intruder alert!” a synthetic voice called. “Intruders in Section Five Alpha Seven.”
“That’s us,” Night commed. “We walked right out into a security patrol.”
“Do what you can!” Calvin commed back. “Let’s go!” he yelled to his team. “The other team ran into a security team; we’ve got to hurry and get to Lieutenant Commander Brighton.”
Dantone led them down the passageway, with Weinert in the rear. A couple of security people fired at Dantone, lasing off pieces of his proto-flesh, but he never slowed. He fired as he ran past them; they were all dead by the time Calvin passed.
&n
bsp; Dantone stopped after about a two-minute run. “My system says she’s behind this door,” he said, dragging the bodies of the security force personnel he’d shot out of the way.
“Got it,” Hogshead said, pulling out a roll of advanced breaching cord. He moved about five feet to the left of the door and outlined a door of his own with the cord. It stuck to the walls where he placed it, and everyone moved away while watching for security force personnel. Dantone took one end of the formation and Weinert the other, and the bodies began to pile up.
“Fire in the hole!” Hogshead called. Two seconds later the cord detonated, blasting inward.
Although the cord cut through the bulkhead, the section stayed in place…until Dantone and Weinert peeled around from their positions and hit the wall together, knocking it into the room.
The security forces were just picking themselves up from the floor after the blast, and most were stunned and easily dealt with, except for the proprietor, who was on the other side of the room and quickly grabbed Lights and put the gun to her head.
“I figured you’d try something,” the proprietor said. “You can either let me out of here, or I’ll kill her.”
Calvin holstered his pistol. “Let her go, Zelph. If you shoot her, you’ll be dead a half second later. This is your last chance. If you let her go, we won’t kill you.”
“I don’t believe you!” Zelph exclaimed.
“Do you have the shot?” Calvin asked the cyborgs.
“We do,” Dantone answered for the pair.
A Gulf in Time Page 25
