by Ken Lozito
“Granted. So what’s your explanation for how those craters got there?” Tokiwa asked.
Oriana glanced at Sean, and he gave her a nod.
“I don’t think this planet is Sagan,” Oriana said.
Sean watched the others’ reactions, and the one common thread among them was astonishment.
“Give her a chance to explain,” Sean said and gestured for Oriana to continue.
“As I said, the planet is not the planet we think it is. I think we’re somehow in a different universe.”
Major Brody drew in a sharp breath.
“You’ll recall the gravitational waves we detected on our approach. The tactical data indicated that we were seeing echoes of those waves. I believe the reason for this is that they were crossing over a line between universes. I don’t know how, but the evidence supports this theory.”
Major Brody looked at Dr. Volker. “What’s your take on this?”
Dr. Volker glanced at Oriana for a moment. “Multiverses have been part of theoretical physics for hundreds of years. There’s even been some proof that they exist, but nothing like this. Oriana, are you sure?”
Oriana shook her head. “No, I’m not sure, but I also can’t find a better explanation. I’ve been looking at the historical research, and there’s a theory that posits that if two universes vibrate at near the same frequency, crossing over is possible.”
“Is this what you’ve been telling the colonel? Did you also include that crossing over requires a catalyst of some sort with significant energy? While it can occur at random, it’s limited to the molecular level,” Dr. Volker said.
Sean frowned. “What do you mean by a catalyst? Do you mean a machine of some sort?”
“Precisely.”
“I was getting to that part. You’re correct, and we have to keep in mind the energy required to allow a ship of this size to cross over. Based on the theories, it would require massive amounts of energy. Something the size of this ship, for example, would require energy at orders of magnitude.” Oriana looked at Lieutenant Russo. “The scans of the system haven’t found anything like that, right?”
“We haven’t found anything, but it’s a large asteroid field, and something could be hidden in there,” Lieutenant Russo said, glancing at Sean.
“Oriana’s explanation would explain the communications blackout from COMCENT, as well as the loss of all colonial communications,” Sean said.
He waited while the others considered what he’d said for a moment. “I know this is a lot to take in, and we haven’t proven anything. There might be other explanations for this, but right now I’m not going to take this off the table. There’s evidence that supports Dr. Evans’ theory. Meanwhile, I invite anyone else to offer a better explanation.”
No one said anything, though Sean thought Dr. Volker would have liked to.
“So what do we do?” Major Brody asked.
“I’m with you, Major. I’d like to have a more concrete explanation than Dr. Evans’ theory. In fact, she pointed out to me before this meeting that she hadn’t finished her analysis. However, on the other hand, this could be the first wave of an attack on the colony. If this is an invasion or a surprise attack, one of the first things to happen would be to cut off all communications. I don’t think we’re going to find the answers we need if we stay here. There’s no salvage team to rescue. In the absence of any technological explanation for us being in an alternate universe, I think we have to search elsewhere for answers.”
Oriana frowned. “Where should we go?”
Sean looked at her and then at everyone else in the room. “We go home. If somebody’s attacking New Earth, we’ll neutralize the threat. But first, we go home, and it should be inherently obvious whether or not we are, in fact, home.”
Sean waited for that to sink in. Too many of them were still skeptical.
“Colonel, we still have away teams that are en route back to the ship,” Captain Webb said.
“Understood, Captain.”
“What do you intend to tell the crew, Colonel?” Major Brody asked.
Sean had been considering this for the past few hours. He needed the crew to keep working, but at the same time, he didn’t want to lie to them. “The Vigilant has an exemplary crew. I’ll tell them the truth, including Dr. Evans’ theory.”
“Are you sure about this, Colonel?”
Sean shook his head. “No, but it’s what I’m going to do.”
27
Noah and Dash were working in an empty shipping crate on the outskirts of the CDF base at Delphi. There was a constant barrage of loud noise from the robotic workforce doing a build-run for CDF Hellcat frames. Noah had friends in the CDF, and one of them had offered them an office on base, but he’d declined. They needed a temporary place to work, but more importantly, they needed to fly under the radar. Noah already had the equipment to set up temporary workstations; he just needed some space, and the shipping container was better than working in his C-cat. It also gave them some much-needed room to stretch their legs.
Noah had been pleased to find out that Dash preferred working on his feet rather than sitting at a desk for hours. They had several holoscreens up, but they were both huddled around one of them.
“This is the video surveillance feed from Franklin Mallory’s office fifty-six days ago,” Dash said.
Noah glanced at the timestamp of the video and saw that it had been filmed at two o’clock in the morning. They’d found many surveillance videos in a storage array located in the same building where Franklin worked, and Noah wondered if Franklin knew he was being watched.
They’d been trying to build a profile of Lars Mallory, and it had been frustratingly difficult. Lars frequently traveled among the colonial cities, which matched up to his duties at the Colonial Intelligence Bureau. There was nothing suspicious in that.
Noah started the video.
“What’s the matter, Lars?” Franklin said on the video.
Lars was sitting in one of the chairs near Franklin’s desk. He looked tired, and his shoulders sagged.
“I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong. I came to my office in the middle the night, just as you asked.”
Lars combed his fingers through his hair. “When you were working with Connor to prepare for the Vemus, did you always think you were doing the right thing?”
“The right thing? We didn’t know what we were preparing for. We had no idea what was coming for us.”
Lars shifted in his seat with a slight fidget. “I know, but did you ever feel bad about any of that work? The allocation of resources and training of personnel? Most colonists didn’t join the Ark program to become soldiers.”
Franklin came around his desk and sat on the edge. He had his hands in his pockets. “Sometimes it was difficult, but I believed something bad had happened to Earth, and it was coming right for us. I think that helped convince Tobias to give us as much support as we needed.”
“That’s what I thought, and I believed that too. I’d do anything to protect the colony,” Lars said.
“I know you would. I’m not upset with you for taking a position in the Colonial Intelligence Bureau. You need to forge your own path. On the other hand, I don’t know much about Meredith Cain. How is she to work for?” Franklin asked his son.
“She’s fine. She put me in charge of some special projects to increase the efficiency of intelligence-sharing between the CDF and Field Ops. I’m trying to improve upon the protocols for when each of those organizations should be engaged.”
“That’s good. You know I’m here if you ever need me.”
“I know, and thanks.”
“This protocol review… Is this because of what happened with Connor?”
Lars nodded. “There’ve been a lot of meetings concerning his actions, even though publicly there was no fault found with him.”
“It’s complicated. We never expected to find anyone after we arrived. The bunkers were well hidden.”
“They were, and now we have to figure out what to do. I don’t know if we’ll find a solution everyone’s comfortable with. Survival is messy. I remember helping with the analysis of the video logs from Earth. What those people went through,” Lars said and shook his head.
Noah heard him sigh.
Franklin nodded slowly. “I know that wasn’t easy for anyone involved,” Franklin said.
Lars sat up. “It’s fine… I’m fine. It was necessary. I’d rather know what happened to those people. They didn’t just lie down and die. They fought to survive. I’m just worried that we might be faced with a similar situation with the NEIIS.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? You know that’s not the only NEIIS bunker out there. According to Connor’s report, those who were brought out of stasis were ready to fight. They were expecting to fight someone,” Lars said.
“Have you found other bunkers?”
There was a long pause before Lars answered. “Not yet. ONI is working on it.”
Franklin and Lars left the office, and the video stopped.
Dash looked at Noah. “He looked like he was hiding something, even back then. When his father asked him specific questions, he seemed to dodge them.”
“He looked tired. Maybe he was just exhausted. I don’t think this,” Noah said, gesturing toward the screen, “is necessarily incriminating.”
“I think we need to follow him. Given his position, he’d be good at covering his tracks. But think about it. He already has to travel for his job, so it’s the perfect cover. It would explain the heavy travel schedule, especially if he was making some extra stops. There has to be a place where they’re taking the stasis pods,” Dash said.
Noah looked away and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He knew Dash was right.
“We need to get some help. I’m not sure how we can even track his movements.”
Noah stretched his arms out in front of him and rolled his shoulders. “Sure we can, but I’m not ready to place any calls for backup just yet.”
Dash’s eyes widened. “What are you waiting for? He was asking his father if he felt bad about doing the right thing. I don’t know about you, but my brain goes into overdrive whenever I think about what he could be implying. He’s definitely hiding something,” the young man said with all the certainty of someone who had made up their mind.
When Noah didn’t answer him, Dash moved to leave the office, saying he needed to get some air.
“Wait,” Noah said, and Dash paused at the door. “We’ll follow him and see where this leads.” As soon as the words left his lips, Noah felt like something was swirling in his stomach.
Lars, what have you gotten yourself involved in?
28
Connor prepared the message to be sent with the Marlin’s comms array. Sims had been able to increase the signal strength so it could reach the CDF’s deep-space communications satellite. The satellite’s geosynchronous orbit maintained its position so it would be accessible from any colonial city. If there was a colonial emergency, like an invasion, it wasn’t brought online until after there’d been a communications failure. CDF soldiers stationed on Lunar Base could bring it online.
When the Vemus had begun their invasion, they’d destroyed colonial communication satellites as part of their strategy. After the Vemus War, the CDF had deployed secondary and tertiary comms satellites so they’d be able to coordinate their efforts. Even knowing the deep-space satellite’s precise location, Connor still felt he was hinging all their hopes on one single broadcast. He’d made the decision, but he didn’t like it. Sims had been adamant that boosting the comms signal would result in crippling the internal components of the comms array, but they still had short-range comms through the recon drones, as well as the equipment they’d brought with them.
“Are you sure about this?” Diaz asked.
“It’s our best shot to let the CDF know we’re here. The other CDF bases should follow standard check-in protocols and do the same. If we let them know where we are and that we need help, they’ll send support,” Connor said.
“I know that’s how it’s supposed to work, but we won’t be able to hear their response.”
“It’s a risk, no matter how we slice it. We’ll reach the other sub soon, and perhaps their equipment is in better condition,” Connor said. He could already see the range of objections and counterarguments flashing across Diaz’s face—such as, if the other submarine had communications capability, they would’ve been using them. “This is the best option we have at the moment.”
Diaz shook his head. “I know. I just wish I could think of something better.”
Gordon had stayed busy helping Banks navigate to the other sub. At least now it showed up on sonar, but it was near the shoreline. They hadn’t been able to find the Minnow observer sub. They’d tracked the route they traveled so that when they finally did get in touch with Field Ops, it might help Search and Rescue find the missing Minnow observer.
Connor knew Gordon was anxious to get to the other submarine as fast as they could. The New Haven research team had spent the bulk of their time mapping out the NEIIS city on the bottom of the inland sea and hadn’t mapped the shoreline, so they had to proceed cautiously or they risked running aground. No one had any desire to swim all the way to shore.
“It looks like the sulfur dioxide in the atmosphere has lessened significantly,” Lockwood said.
“Good. Maybe it won’t smell so bad when we open the top hatch,” Diaz said.
Connor finished putting the details of his message together and encoded it with his identification. Connor’s ID was somewhat unique among the colonists’ since he was a founder of the Colonial Defense Force. Communications that had his ID associated with it would carry a higher priority, even in his retirement.
“Alright, Sims, send the broadcast now,” Connor said.
“Yes, sir,” Sims said. He tapped a few commands on his holo-interface and waited a few moments.
There was nothing for them to see or observe. The power surge that boosted the distress beacon would overload the internal components, but by all outward appearances, the comms array would appear to be intact.
“Message sent. The array is now off-line,” Sims said.
“Understood,” Connor said.
A short while later, they spotted the other sub. It had washed ashore and was entirely out of the water.
Connor looked at Gordon. “Could the current that pushed us so far away have done this to the sub?”
“I suppose it’s possible, but we need to take a closer look at the hull.”
Given the circumstances, Connor had decided that everyone would be going ashore. They needed to stay together. Counting the people Connor had brought, there were only nine of them altogether. Connor, Diaz, Sims, and Alder all carried AR-71 assault rifles and wore third-generation MPSs that could withstand significantly more punishment than what Connor had put the prototypes through. He wished they had a few more of them so Gordon and his crew could also have better protection.
Lockwood walked over to Connor. “Sir, I know how to shoot that rifle,” he said, gesturing toward the AR 71. “Noah insisted everyone learn if they were going to work in the field.”
Connor pressed his lips together in thought and regarded the young man for a moment. “Alright, Lockwood, but I want one thing clear. You don’t shoot anything unless I tell you to. I don’t even want you pointing your rifle at anything unless I tell you to. If not me, then listen to Diaz. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Lockwood quickly replied.
Connor watched as the young man picked up the assault rifle and held it with at least a little bit of familiarity.
Diaz glanced at Lockwood. “If you shoot me, kid, I’m gonna shoot you back.”
Gordon Summers walked over to Connor. “I don’t suppose you’ll be distributing more of those weapons?”
“You’ll be fine with the CAR-74s. I’d rather you had something y
ou were comfortable with. These are just a precaution,” Connor said, momentarily lifting his rifle.
They anchored the sub a short distance from the other submarine and were soon standing on the beach. Connor sent the recon drones ahead as they closed in on the Marlin Two. The fog had thinned enough that they could see faint traces of the night sky overhead. The air was cool and the water calm, almost as smooth as glass.
The Marlin Two lay on its side, and as they got closer, they saw several deep gouges along the hull. They circled around the sub, looking for the crew and passengers. Gordon climbed aboard while Connor and his team remained outside, surveying the damage. As Gordon called out for his wife from inside the sub, Connor took a closer look at the damaged hull. There were jagged edges, as if a thick claw had torn through the metallic alloy like it was nothing. There were several rough areas of the hull that were consistent with what Connor would expect to find with a ship that had crashed. But no matter the manner in which the sub had wound up on the beach, it hadn’t been a smooth ride.
Connor was walking along the hull when he noticed smaller holes that looked as if they’d been melted, and when he reached out to touch one, it was smooth. The materials the submarines had been constructed of were meant to withstand the pressure of going underwater, and even though it wasn’t battle-steel, the melting point for the alloy was still pretty significant. Connor swung his gaze toward the ground, looking for confirmation of what he suspected.
Diaz followed his gaze. “I see some tracks this way. Looks like they got off the sub.”
Connor followed the tracks, which led away from the sub. The analysis engine that was part of his implants measured the distance between the tracks and put up a report on his internal heads-up display showing the estimated speed of those who’d left the sub. “They were running away from something,” Connor said.
He scanned the area, looking for something out of place, but he couldn’t see anything. Diaz looked at him, and he gestured toward the sub. “Some of those holes are from weapons fire. They melted straight through.”
