A Gulf in Time

by Chris Kennedy

  Calvin stood and pushed the ramp button, and it descended to reveal a set of pre-fab buildings close to a rocky cliff. The buildings—and everything else required to run a town—had been replicated in the shipyard’s smaller replicator in a day-long operation, and then transported to the site by Calvin’s aviators, and set up by his troops.

  “This is…impressive,” Sissel said. “How much do we owe for this? Who do we pay?”

  “We’ll take a percentage—a small one—of a certain metal that’s available here. It’s a new metal none of your people have ever seen before, which our science people will brief you on.”

  Sissel scoffed. “I have miners with decades of experience in a wide variety of planetary and asteroidal mining operations. I doubt there is anything at least some of us have not seen.”

  “I think we may surprise you,” Calvin said. “One other thing about this place is that copper, silver, and gold don’t exist here.”

  “What? That is crazy. How can they not exist here? That does not make any sense.”

  “I don’t know; perhaps there’s something in the air. If you can figure it out, we’d love for you to tell us why that is.”

  Sissel nodded and walked over to where a large group of aliens was standing around. “Let’s go!” he hissed. He didn’t have the physical makeup to shout, but his hissing carried an awful lot of menace. He would make a good foreman. “The sooner we get our bills paid off, the sooner we start working for ourselves!”

  Calvin smiled. Sissel will do just fine here.

  He began sending out groups to organize the mining gear piled around, while others were sent to start surveying the cliffside, and still others to set up the automated processing facility, which had also been replicated for them. Ensign Summers had already prepared a detailed summary of the best places to start digging, so it shouldn’t take them long to begin producing the metal needed for jumping between the universes.

  * * *

  Replicator One, Shipyard, Margath System

  “That’s the last of them,” the shipyard foreman said as the bow of the frigate moved inexorably into the jaws of the replicator to be disassembled into its component materials. The Weeber—elevated to the position of foreman when his Disant boss had been removed—shook his head. “Just seems like such a waste, sir. Three good frigates, all just built…I am sure we could have replicated the engineering sections onto the sterns where they got cut off.”

  He shook his head again as Calvin watched the tip of the bow disappear. “Damnedest thing I have ever seen, too, the damage to those ships. How did you say it happened again? Missiles? I have never seen missiles that cut that cleanly without destroying anything nearby. Lasers, sure, but that was not like any laser strikes I have ever seen. The damage was all spherical, as if someone had just scooped out a big ball…of everything the ship used to have.”

  He looked at Calvin, who only smiled. “I didn’t say what type of weapons those were, but we’ll end up making some of them here once we get all the materials. We’ll need a bunch of them…but they’ll have to be specially made. Some of the pieces will come…pre-assembled from where the metal is mined.”

  “That is another thing,” the foreman said. “It is strange not to know where our supplier is. What if we need more of the components while you are gone?”

  “You won’t,” Calvin said, “because you won’t be building any of our tech while we’re gone.”

  “We won’t?” The man sounded like a small child who’d just been told he wouldn’t be going home with the puppy he’d been playing with at the pet store. “A few of those destroyers like the one coming out of Replicator Two would sure give us the ability to protect ourselves while you are away…”

  “I’m sure they would,” Calvin said with a smile, “however, that’s not going to happen. You can build a few more of your frigates, and we’ll be leaving an improved frigate here under the command of our ops officer. That should suffice for protection until we can get back. I also have a secret project for you while we’re gone.”

  “A secret?” the Weeber asked. In a split second, his sadness evaporated and turned into the joy of a Christmas morning. “What kind of a secret?”

  “It’s going to be the gift that keeps on giving,” Calvin said. “C’mon over to the production queue, and let me show you what I’ve added, and what I want you to do.”

  The alien walked to the main input controller with a bounce in his stride Calvin hadn’t seen since he’d been put in charge of the facility. While the Weeber was tremendously excited about being in charge, the responsibility for making the things necessary to defend the system had hit him hard, seemingly stripping him of the ability to think coherently. It was only after Calvin had walked him through the process of determining and evaluating the system’s needs—and set up the first several items in the queue—that some of the spring had come back into his step.

  The Weeber’s eyes went down the list, and he smiled when he began recognizing some of the items. “Is that…”

  “Yes, it is,” Calvin said.

  “And with that label?”

  “That’s exactly what you think it is.”

  “Oh, my….”

  * * *

  Command Bridge, Terra’s Hope, Margath System

  Calvin lifted the cover, pushed the button, and the computer’s lights flashed as it booted up for the first time.

  “You look like you’ve done that before,” Administrator Rife said.

  Calvin smiled. “I have, but it was a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…”

  “What?” Rife asked. “I thought you were from the future.”

  “We are…I mean, I am.” He sighed. “That was a quote from a movie that may happen in a few thousand years. If we’re lucky and good.”

  “What is a movie?”

  “I’ll explain it some time,” Calvin said as the lights on the display board all went green.

  “Ready for activation,” the destroyer’s AI said. “A quick scan of my systems shows all systems appear functional, although there are a number of systems that require modification to be brought to peak performance, or upgrades to be brought in line with current technology.”

  “I wonder what its idea of ‘current’ technology is?” Master Chief muttered. Calvin frowned at him over his shoulder, and he didn’t go any further with the comment.

  “That’s to be expected,” Calvin said. “You’ve just completed the replication process.”

  “So I can expect a period in the yards for upgrade and final adjustments?” the AI asked.

  “Unfortunately, no,” Captain Clayton replied. “Due to operational commitments, we’re going to have to put you into service immediately.”

  “Standing by for activation.”

  Calvin called up the sequence on his implants and read, “Activation sequence Destroyer 6336 CKP1 9943 TBNO.”

  “I am activated,” the AI reported. “What am I to be called?”

  Calvin looked at Captain Clayton, who nodded for him to continue, “The ship is to be called, ‘Terra’s Hope.’”

  “Query,” the AI said. “While I understand the concept of hope, there is nothing in my memory of Terra. Is Terra a person, place, or thing?”

  “It’s a nation,” Calvin said, “or what will be a nation if we do our jobs well and complete our mission. The nation is named Terra, and you’re to serve in a detached fleet on a secret mission.”

  “If the mission is secret, should my name not be something that does not give away the fact that I serve Terra?”

  “It’s okay,” Calvin said. “No one here knows Terra, and the simple fact that you exist will bring hope to all Terrans here, as well as our allies. Your crew will fill you in on all the details; it’s a long story. The person standing next to me, Captain Russ Clayton, is your new captain.”

  “I am ready to serve,” said the AI.

  * * *

  Command Bridge, Weeber’s Own, Margath System

  Ca
lvin started to push the button, then stepped away and offered the honor to his operations officer, Commander—now Captain—Dan Dacy. “Just push here,” Calvin said.

  Dacy shook his head as the lights began flashing. “That’s all it takes to turn on a starship?”

  “In this case, yes,” Calvin said. “Some of the things need a manual start, but once everything’s running, the AI is able to handle pretty much everything.”

  They watched the lights flashing—it was fairly mesmerizing—as more and more turned green. “Ready for activation,” the frigate’s AI finally said, “although I see a number of my systems are not complete yet. Will there be upgrades to these systems?”

  Dacy looked at Calvin and made an “I don’t know” gesture.

  “Yes,” Calvin said. “There are new systems that’ll be installed with improved capabilities. We didn’t want to put in the outdated ones and immediately have to rip them out again.”

  “I approve of the efficiency,” the AI said. “Standing by for activation.”

  Calvin called up the sequence on his implants and read, “Activation sequence Frigate 1993 RTOS 5489 JWTS.”

  “I am activated,” the AI reported. “What am I to be called?”

  “The ship is to be called, ‘Weeber’s Own.’”

  “There is nothing in my memory of a Weeber. Is that a person, place, or thing?”

  “It’s a race,” Calvin said. “Everything will be explained to you, but your first priority will be to defend this system. You’re the first of a class that’ll help bring new, unparalleled levels of success to this system. Captain Dan Dacy, the person standing next to me, will be your new captain.”

  “I am ready to serve,” said the AI.

  Calvin smiled at the other person in the command center. “Well, Captain, you now have a fleet of three ships under your command, with a fourth due out in a couple of days. Is it time to start calling you ‘admiral?’”

  “Is this your payback for all of the ‘Hero’ comments?” Captain Sheppard asked.

  “Not so far as I’d ever tell,” Calvin said with a wink.

  * * *

  Passageway, TSS Vella Gulf, Margath System

  Calvin looked up to see Administrator Rife coming toward him down the passageway. Even before he noticed the administrator’s head hanging, he saw the Weeber’s gait was abnormal—where normally the avian-jointed aliens had something of a ‘bounce’ in their step, his gait was slow and plodding.

  “Hi, Administrator!” Calvin said cheerfully.

  The Weeber looked up, startled. “Oh, hello, Calvin,” he said. “I am sorry, I did not see you there. I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like…I am very confused about some of the concepts you told me about. Take this concept of ‘freedom,’ for example. I do not see how it is supposed to work in an efficient society.”

  “What do you mean?” Calvin asked.

  “I mean, I do not think most people in my society like freedom. And the ones who do are taking advantage of others. There will be rioting in the streets soon, and I am worried that basic governmental services will either be shut down or destroyed by mobs. It is not working out like you promised!”

  “I never promised anything,” Calvin said. “I only told you how our society worked.”

  “But this freedom thing does not work at all. And then you have the people who think you will leave us to the mercy of the Mineral Cartel, and they will kill many of us as punishment for going along with you. If I cannot figure out something to do about it, and soon, I am going to have to take away all of everyone’s rights again and rule over them with an iron rod.”

  “My CO was worried this might happen,” Calvin said. “While there are always going to be nay-sayers and people who want to keep the status quo, I think your biggest problem is the people don’t understand what freedom is or how to use it. If we only had a PR team to…”

  “To do what?” Rife asked. “Tell everyone about it? That does not seem to be working very well. People take the signs down as quickly as we can put them up.”

  “As it turns out,” Calvin said, “I think I can help with that. We do have a public relations team…or something like one.” He made a couple of quick calls. “Let’s go down to my ready room. I think I can help you.”

  They walked quickly to the squadron’s ready room, and Calvin held the door for Rife. He started to walk in, but then jumped back in surprise. “What are they?” he asked.

  Calvin looked in the door. “They’re who we’re meeting with,” he said, seeing the five maroon reptilians. He smiled as he approached them, and they stopped what they were doing and came to a modified position of attention. Each of the bipedal lizards were about five feet tall, and they were all armed with knives, laser pistols, and extremely wicked-looking claws.

  Calvin smiled. “These are my…umm…foster children. This is Reyl and Syrusss, the big one is Karver, the smaller one is Paxton, and the one who looks like she’d rather eat you than talk to you is Burkuri, their sister and leader.”

  “Will she?” Rife asked. Calvin looked over and could see Rife was unable to look away from Burkuri. “Will she eat me, that is?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Burkuri said. “Does he taste good, Father?”

  “No,” Calvin replied. “Administrator Rife is a Weeber, and they’re known throughout this galaxy as being one of the worst tasting aliens in existence.”

  “Oh,” Burkuri replied. “Pity.” She turned back to Rife. “No, I won’t eat you. Father says you taste bad.”

  “Okay, kids, I have a mission for you…something that’ll use your talents and the skills you trained for to the utmost extent.”

  “Death, destruction, and dismemberment?” Karver asked.

  “No!” Calvin exclaimed. “Sorry,” he added to Rife. “Karver is the heavy weapons expert. He hasn’t gotten to do much with his skills recently.”

  “Psychological operations?” Reyl asked.

  “Umm…yes, something more along those lines. As it turns out, Administrator Rife is trying to introduce the concept of freedom into his society.”

  “Why?” Bukuri asked, using a knife to get something from under a claw. “It only leads to problems.”

  “Because individual freedom is a good thing,” Calvin replied. “We’ve been over this. Just because your society says it isn’t doesn’t mean every society has to follow the Ssselipsssiss. Now, are you going to help us or not?”

  “What’s the mission?” Burkuri asked.

  “There are dissidents trying to disrupt the introduction of individual freedom to the Weeber society. We need you to find them and root them out.” Reyl smiled, and Karver raised a claw. “No you can’t eat the dissidents,” Calvin added. Both appeared crestfallen. “However, this mission should use all your skills—as I said—and if you can accomplish it, I’ll consider this your right of passage, and you’ll become full adults.”

  “Do we get a share in whatever treasure we find?” Burkuri asked.

  “This isn’t a treasure operation,” Calvin said, “but sure.”

  “Okay,” Burkuri said as a smile crossed her face. “We’re in.”

  * * *

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

  “All right,” the CO said. “Let’s get started. Calvin?”

  “Thank you, Admiral,” Calvin replied. The title still brought a smile to his face, especially since everyone was now using it. Sheppard had given up and stopped fighting it. He was, after all, now in charge of four ships—the Vella Gulf, Terra’s Hope, and two frigates, with a third on the way—the appellation was unavoidable. Even the Weebers used it—it turned out their sense of humor was very much like Calvin’s, and they loved playing along.

  Calvin looked out at the audience while trying to cover the smile. The room was jammed with all the department heads, ambassadors, representatives, and various “important” people, so much so that they were piping the meeting to
various other spaces both on-ship and off so everyone who wanted could watch. “Thanks for coming, everyone. It’s been a month and a half since we came here, and I’m ready to call our base of operations ‘complete.’ When we got here, we didn’t have anything. We didn’t know where we were going or how we were going to get there. Heck, we didn’t even know what we were looking for. All we knew was we had to come, so we just came.

  “Now we’re established. We have a base we can fall back on if things go poorly, and allies in our quest.” He nodded to now-President Rife, who smiled and nodded back. “As we go forth, I know I’ll feel a lot better knowing we have them at our backs. We’re leaving them a ship and the means to defend themselves; if we need to fall back, they’ll be here for us. Yes, I know the Mineral Cartel continues to probe the system from the Jangeth gate, but with Weeber’s Own and the security frigates the replicators are producing, I’m not worried about them doing anything more than clogging up the area around the gate with the debris of their broken spaceships.”

  He nodded to Captain Dacy, who had now destroyed two of the Mineral Cartel’s ships with Weeber’s Own. It helped that the ship had access to all the strange metal it needed to keep making the jumping missiles the Cartel didn’t have an answer for. Not yet, anyway.

  “We’re a lot stronger going forth, too,” Calvin continued. “While we haven’t seen anything—yet—that can touch us, that doesn’t mean nothing exists that can. By tripling our fleet strength, we’re more prepared to fight it if we find it. With three ships in our fleet now, we also appear stronger, so hopefully people won’t try to challenge us unnecessarily and bog down our progress with needless side-missions and battles that use up our resources.”

  Calvin smiled. “And now, finally—after a month and a half—we’re ready to do what we came here for—to search out the information we need to save the galaxy. I don’t know if the weapons and computer technology we’re looking for exist in this time and place, but if they do, we know it’ll be at Trrgos, and we now—thanks to our allies—know where to find it and how to get there.