A Gulf in Time

by Chris Kennedy

  “Take it.”

  “Synching systems. Done. Two…one…” Both cyborgs fired as one, and the proprietor dropped away from Lights with a hole through the center of his forehead.

  Calvin ran over, drawing his pistol on the way, but holstered it again when he got to the proprietor and saw he was dead. “Good riddance,” he said. He looked down again and turned to the cyborgs. “Did one of you miss? Or are you both so good that you shot into the same hole?”

  “Look at his trigger finger,” Dantone said.

  Calvin looked down to find it lying on the floor where he’d been standing, not where he’d fallen. “What the…”

  “It’s something we’ve been working on for hostage rescue,” Dantone explained. “I shoot off the trigger finger, while Weinert kills the hostage taker. I’d call that an operational success.”

  Calvin nodded. “Me, too.” He turned to Lights. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. A little roughed up, but nothing a bottle of wine and a chair by the beach wouldn’t fix.” She smiled. “Got either of those?”

  “Not on me,” Calvin said. “Sorry.”

  “We’re all set here,” Night commed. “Three hostages recovered. Lots of bad guys dead.”

  “Same here,” Calvin said. “Let’s go home.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Sixteen

  Bridge, TSS Vella Gulf, Jangeth System

  “Stealth on?”

  “Stealth is on, sir,” the duty engineer replied.

  “Ahead slow,” the CO said.

  “Ahead slow, aye,” the helmsman said. Within seconds, the ship jumped.

  “Established in the Margath System,” Steropes noted. “Do you want drones?”

  “No,” the CO said. “We’ll continue using only passive means.”

  “Yes, sir,” Steropes said. “I don’t show anything emitting close to us. If there are any defensive platforms around—”

  “There aren’t,” Administrator Rife said.

  “—they may be silent,” Steropes finished, “but I don’t see them.”

  “I’ve got contact farther out,” the OSO said. “I can see two sources; looks like the shipyard and the space station orbiting the second planet from the star.”

  “As I said there would be,” Rife noted.

  “There’s also activity on the planet,” the DSO said.

  “Also as—”

  “That’s enough, Rife,” the CO said. “We have procedures, and my people will follow them. Please keep your comments to yourself, unless you have something important to add.”

  “Yes, Captain Sheppard,” Rife said. “It was difficult to leave my people and ships behind, and I would like to get this accomplished as quickly as possible.”

  Captain Sheppard nodded. While he hadn’t wanted to leave the frigate hulks in the last system, he couldn’t have maintained stealth with the three hulks attached to the Vella Gulf, so he’d decided to leave them in the Jangeth System and then return to get them after the Margath System had been pacified.

  “We’ll go back and pick them up as soon as we possibly can,” the CO said. “However, while I think I can trust you, I don’t know that yet for certain, and there’s no telling what’s changed in the time since you left the system.”

  “My squadron of frigates was the only ships stationed here for the defense of the system and the shipyard. There shouldn’t be any other ships here.”

  “But it won’t hurt to make sure before we go in there.”

  “As I was saying,” the DSO said, “there’s activity on the second planet. There appear to be a number of large cities scattered about. Light patterns show it’s extensively inhabited.”

  “Looks like an almost-finished frigate poking out of the smaller replicator,” the OSO noted. “There’s a second, larger replicator, but nothing can be seen in it.”

  “Wow,” Ensign Summers said from the science station.

  “Wow, Miss Summers?” the CO asked. “Could you expand on that a little, please?”

  “Yes, sir. I was looking at the planet, and if you wanted a copy of Earth, this planet would be a good one—the planet is almost an exact replica. It’s about 70 percent water, the diameter is within a few hundred miles of Earth’s, gravity and axial tilt are all about the same…even the length of the day and year are all fairly similar.”

  “Wow, indeed,” the CO said. He smiled. “Let’s take a closer look. Full speed ahead toward planetary orbit. Stand by to launch the shuttles.” He turned and looked at the administrator. “Good luck.”

  “Thank you.” The administrator turned and left, followed by Calvin, who nodded to the CO as he passed.

  * * *

  Docking Collar, Shuttle 01, Mineral Cartel Station #472, Margath System

  “Hold it there,” Lieutenant Thomas ‘Mays’ Yilmaz said to the pilot. He looked up from where he was manipulating the collar. “Turns out a universal docking collar is only universal in our time. They have a different collar here, and ours doesn’t mate with it. I’m deploying the auxiliary.”

  “Hurry,” Administrator Rife said, while Calvin simply nodded. “We’re visible now and anyone can see us.”

  “No shit, sir,” muttered Mays who, as the shuttle’s NFO, had been the person to turn off the stealth as they drew alongside the station. “Going as fast as this stupid system will allow.”

  The tube crept across the distance, driven by the smaller auxiliary motor. After what seemed like an eternity, the tube made contact with the skin of the station, and nanites in the ring molecularly bonded to it, creating a perfect seal.

  “Good seal and pressurization,” Mays said, opening the shuttle door. “It’s all yours. Have fun storming the castle!”

  Calvin shook his head as he followed Rife through the small passage, stopping as the Weeber reached the panel next to the station’s airlock. He input a code and the exterior door opened. After a moment, the system sensed the presence of pressure on the outside and the interior door opened as well. Rife turned to look at Calvin, who waved him forward.

  “Go ahead, sir,” Calvin said. “It’s better if you lead the way. Don’t worry if you don’t see us; we’ll be right with you the whole way.”

  Rife turned and walked through the airlock, orienting himself correctly as gravity returned passing through the airlock.

  “Go dark,” Calvin commed. He flipped a mental switch and the suit went into stealth mode, where receivers on one side of the suit communicated with projectors on the other side of the suit. If someone wearing a suit was still, the image presented looked like what was on the other side of the suit, making them “invisible.” The faster they moved, the less effective the image, and the easier they were to see due to a shimmering effect.

  Due to laser links between the suits, Calvin and his troops were able to see each other as the systems built ghost images in their heads-up display.

  Rife stepped into the ship, then looked back at Calvin for confirmation. He jumped backward when he found the squad had vanished.

  “It’s okay,” Calvin said, disabling the system for a couple of seconds. “I’m right here.” The stealth came back on, and Rife walked forward to touch him with a talon.

  “Interesting,” the alien said. “I can just see you at the edges because I know where to look. If I did not, I would never have known you were there.”

  Calvin chuckled. “That’s the point.” When Rife continued staring, he added, “If you’d like to lead on, we’re under somewhat of a time crunch.”

  “Oh!” Rife exclaimed, jumping slightly. “Yes. Let us go.” He turned and walked out the airlock alcove and into the station’s main passage.

  Rife would have made a good actor, Calvin saw; he was calm and imperious as he strolled along the main passageway. He didn’t get out of people’s way—they got out of his. Or perhaps that’s how he normally walks in the station. Calvin shook his head. As little as the higher-ups valued their minions, that was certainly possible. He would’ve expected as
much from Zelph and Yorch.

  The station wasn’t as cosmopolitan as the other stations Calvin had been aboard since they’d gone back in time. Where the others had had a number of alien races represented, this one was primarily staffed by Weebers and the four-armed race known as the Disants, with a few others represented here and there.

  “Hey, Rife!” a Weeber said, stopping in front of the alien. “I did not know you were back. How did the mission go? I knew whatever ship was in the next system would not be able to stand up to your squadron.”

  “It went well, Exter, and I learned some new things, which I will talk to you about over a drink later. Now, though, I have to go report in to the proprietor. You know he does not like to be kept waiting.”

  “That’s for sure,” Exter replied. Calvin had his receivers turned up and was able to hear the alien say softly, “The bastard.” Louder, he added. “He is in his office. I just came from there after getting my ass chewed.”

  Rife chuckled. “Sorry about that, and thanks,” he said. “Talk to you soon.” Rife continued up the passageway and stopped in front of an ornate door. He took a deep breath, obviously steeling himself for the confrontation.

  Calvin patted him on the shoulder. “We’re right behind you.”

  “And that’s not creepy at all,” Rife muttered. He opened the door and walked into a small outer office where a four-armed Disant behind a tiny desk was inputting data into a computer. “Is the proprietor in?” he asked.

  “Yes,” replied the person at the desk, “but he is busy. You will have to come back.”

  “Oh, I think he will see me now.”

  “Wait!” the man at the desk said. “He is—” His voice cut off when Corporal ‘Bob’ Bobellisssissolliss de-stealthed in front of his desk. The sudden appearance of the mini-dinosaur—complete with big, sharp teeth—was more than the alien could take, and he collapsed back into his chair, pointing at the trooper. His mouth moved, but no words came out.

  Rife laughed once. “Yeah, they had that effect on me, too, the first time I was close to one.” He opened the door into the back office and strode in.

  “Rife!” the proprietor said, rising behind his desk. Another Disant, he was bigger than any of the others Calvin had seen. “What the hell are you doing just walking into my office unannounced? I am busy and am not to be interrupted. Besides! I did not even know you were back.”

  “As you can see, though, I am back.”

  “Well, get the hell out of my office and schedule a meeting with me to tell me about it like a normal person. You do not just walk into my office! I ought to have you—” He stopped talking as Rife dropped into a chair unbidden, and the affront caused his voice to lock up.

  “Well, you see, Karch, things have changed, and yes, I do. I am here to tell you that your time here has ended, and it is time for you to go.”

  “Ha! You think you can just walk in here and remove me?”

  “I do.”

  “You and what army?”

  “This one.” Calvin and the other three members of the squad in the office de-stealthed, and the proprietor fell back into his chair, stunned.

  “How…how is this possible?”

  “As it turns out, I was not victorious in the Jangeth System; the Terrans—these people—were. They destroyed my ships, but then saved as much of my crew and the crews of the other ships as they could. They have some interesting ideas about personal freedom and how things should be run. It is fascinating that none of those methods involve cartels.”

  “They can do things however they want wherever they come from, but that is not the way things are run here. I am in charge here, and that is the way it is. I do not negotiate with people below me.”

  “You don’t, eh?” Calvin asked, speaking for the first time. “Well, I don’t consider myself below you, so welcome to our negotiation.” He smiled. “Well, it isn’t really much of a negotiation, I’m sorry to say, as much as it is me telling you how it’s going to be, and you doing what I tell you. Assuming you want to live, anyway, which I assume you do?”

  The proprietor nodded.

  “Good, then we’ll get along just fine,” Calvin continued. “I have plenty of people scattered throughout the facility, ready to pop out—just like we did—whenever it’s necessary. Like Administrator Rife just said, though, we’re different, and I don’t particularly like killing people. I want to be very clear up front, though; I’ll do it if you don’t do as you’re told. Don’t mistake my distaste for killing as a sign of weakness; I’ll kill you if you force my hand. I won’t like it, but that won’t stop me or slow me down in the slightest.”

  Calvin smiled. “And plenty of my men would be happy to kill you just because I’m sure you’re a jackass and you’ve done lots of horrible things to the people underneath you.”

  “What is it you want?” the proprietor asked in a voice that sounded like he was being strangled.

  “I want you to call all the security forces here so we can disarm them and take them into custody. That would be far more preferable than having to go through the station shooting them. It’d be a lot easier on the facility’s cleaning systems, too.”

  “You win…for now,” the proprietor said, “but make no mistake, you have angered the Mineral Cartel, and there will be a reckoning.”

  “Don’t you just love it when people talk like they’re the voice of a big corporation?” Master Chief asked. “You’ve angered me, so the entire company hates you.” He laughed. “If there’s one thing I can tell you based on everything I’ve seen so far, it’s that no one besides yourself really gives a shit about your feelings here. Whoever your bosses are would cheerfully sell you down the river if Commander Hobbs gave them a sweet deal to do so.”

  Master Chief shrugged. “So go ahead and make your threats. Do whatever you think you can. Just know we’re aware they’re just as hollow as your morals, and I’m personally waiting to shoot you if you get even a tiny bit out of line. Am I clear?”

  “Yes,” the proprietor said.

  “Calvin, Night. The shipyard is ours. No casualties. The administrator objected to our change of ownership, and he’s been confined. We’ll be sending him back to the Gulf shortly.”

  “Great,” Calvin replied. “We’re done here, too.” He smiled at Rife. “The shipyard’s ours, too. They’re taking the administrator back to the Gulf.”

  “What are you going to do with him?” Rife asked, nodding to the proprietor.

  “There must be some sort of jail facility we can hold him in here, isn’t there?” Calvin asked.

  “Depends on how much trouble you want him to stir up, I guess. There will be people here who will continue to follow him and do what he says, hoping to receive favors from him if he is able to return to power.”

  “Then I guess we take him back to the Gulf and throw him in the brig. We can put him off in the Jangeth System when we go back to get your ships.”

  “That would be better.”

  “Who do you think is going to run this system in my absence?” the proprietor asked. He looked at Rife. “You? You think you can do a better job?”

  “Yes,” Rife said, standing up. “I think I can.” He turned to Calvin. “If you would remove him, I will begin doing so.”

  Calvin nodded. “Master Chief, do you think you can spare a couple of people to take him back to the Gulf?”

  “As a matter of fact,” Master Chief said with a wink, “I think I can.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Seventeen

  CO’s Conference Room, TSS Vella Gulf, Margath System

  “Okay, Calvin, we’ve now taken over the Margath System for you,” the CO pronounced. “Now what? Should we change the name of it to Calvinia? Hero-topia?”

  Calvin winced at the podium where he was conducting the briefing and could feel his neck and face getting hot. “No, sir, none of that’s necessary, but capturing the system was necessary to go forward from here.”

  “So what’s the plan?�
�

  “As previously discussed, we move forward on all fronts…”

  * * *

  Cargo Bay, Shuttle 02, Margath System

  “How long will it take to get where we are going?” asked the new leader of the miners, whose name was Sissel. The lizard’s tongue flicked in and out a couple of times. “I am not a fan of space travel.”

  Calvin was just about to answer the alien when everything flashed, and he nodded. “It won’t be long now,” he said. “They always flash the lights like that when we’re getting ready to land.”

  “That was the lights?” the alien asked. “It seemed like everything flashed.”

  “Yes, it was,” Calvin said. “Perhaps our lights are different from yours.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Although a few of the Weebers had been told about the original origin of the Terrans, the miners hadn’t been. As far as they knew, the Terrans were from another planet on some far arm of the galaxy. They didn’t care much, as they’d been told they’d be allowed to continue what they’d been doing—mining—and their families would be allowed to do whatever they’d been doing in their previous town, as well.

  Because 76 people wasn’t enough to run a town, Calvin had promised they’d ultimately allow friends, relatives, and tradesmen to emigrate to the new town—once a transportation system had been set up—and that the town would be run by them, free from cartel influence.

  Like the Weebers, Calvin had then had to explain what “free from cartel influence” actually meant, and what would be expected of them in their new positions. The miners all thought being paid based on what they produced was a novel idea and were interested to try out the whole concept of a “free market economy.” They were especially excited to find out that their contact with the Weebers would be limited, as several of the races—including Sissel’s—had longstanding feuds with them.

  The shuttle came in, flared, and touched down. “Clear on the ramp,” the pilot called over the PA.