Fleet ops box set, p.29
Fleet Ops Box Set, page 29
“If we can’t find a cure for the Brood contagion, then....” Iver shrugged. “The battle group is doomed.”
Husher winced and looked around. “Then we’ll have to find a cure. It turned enough of the crew into Polymorphs that we have plenty of samples to study.”
“That’s certainly a silver lining, though it’s the only one I can think of.” The two men had come to a stop now. “I think our best hope is to get back to the Milly Way before more of us are infected.”
Husher was taken aback. Iver had been one of the more vociferous opponents of trying to return home. His argument had been that they would lead the Brood back to their dimension, which Husher didn’t entirely disagree with, but he was still surprised to hear the admiral now advocate a return to the Milky Way as soon as possible. “Do you really think your people are so far from understanding this?”
“They know nothing, Vin. Nothing.”
“You have to keep them working at it.” A thought occurred to Husher. “Have you experienced any secondary outbreaks here on the Providence?”
“Not that I’m aware of, though I suppose it’s possible.”
Possible, Husher thought, but not likely. He’d wager Captain Daniels would notify the admiral immediately if there were more transformations. “I can assure you we’ve had none on the Relentless. And if that’s true of the Providence, and I’ve heard nothing from the other captains, then.…”
“Why no secondary outbreaks?”
It was odd. More than that, it would seem almost impossible, if it were a typical contagion. But then again, nothing about this was typical.
It was alien. And it was pretty damn important to remember that.
“I’ll make sure my scientists are giving a lot of consideration to the fact that there’s been no second wave.”
“Speaking of the scientists…have they made any breakthroughs regarding our inability to use subspace?”
“Funny you should ask that.” Iver sounded like it was anything but funny to him. He began to walk again, and Husher followed. Rather than stopping at the sleeper units, he continued past them to the small control room above the power generators. With spryness that belied his age, Iver hopped up onto the scaffolding.
The space inside was cramped. A desk in one corner was stacked high with at least a dozen different varieties of touch pads. A printout had been draped along the back bulkhead, with lines drawn across it that formed a pattern Husher sensed was logarithmic in nature.
Iver nodded at the man sitting at the desk. “This is Doctor Engel Castle. Our lead scientist.”
Husher knew Castle by reputation, if not by sight. The scientist had been the lead on several IU research projects to which the Vesta had contributed.
“Doctor.” Husher held out his hand. The doctor barely looked up.
Iver rolled his eyes as Husher retracted his hand. “Doctor Castle,” he said, a bit of humor in his voice. “Could you bring the captain up to speed on what you told me this morning?”
“Can’t you, Admiral?” Castle didn’t look up. “I’m busy down here.”
“We all are, Doctor,” Iver said, the humor in his voice evaporating.
The doctor sighed theatrically. “Very well. Captain…”
“Husher.”
“Yes,” Castle said. Husher was sure the man had instantly forgotten his name, if he’d even heard it. “As I’m sure you’re aware, the ability to travel interdimensionally is crucial to our return to the Milky Way Galaxy.”
“Clearly.”
“And the admiral is indeed keen to return. Although why we’d want to leave behind the discovery of a lifetime in such a rush is beyond me.”
“Heaven knows.”
It might have something to do with being massively outgunned by an enemy wielding weapons we’ve never seen before. Or perhaps the fact that the same enemy seemed able to infect humans and turn them into monsters. But neither argument seemed likely to sway Castle.
“You’d describe space as an empty vacuum, correct?” Castle began.
“Correct,” Husher said, or tried to. Castle was already speaking over him.
“It’s not. Or rather, it’s not empty. It’s filled with plasma. That’s just as true in this pocket universe as it was in our native universe.”
“Okay.”
“But that’s where the similarities end. In our universe, matter, in the form of plasma, is distributed unevenly, thanks in large part to gravity causing it to clump together.”
Husher glanced at Iver, wondering if this little science presentation was what he’d had in mind. Iver only nodded.
Husher suppressed a sigh. “But here, it’s different?”
“Very much so,” Castle said. “Here, there’s a type of plasma particle we’ve never seen before. And before you ask, the nature of it is fundamentally different than anything we’ve ever seen, so the details are difficult to document.”
Husher raised an eyebrow. It wouldn’t have crossed his mind to ask, but at least now he knew not to.
“We do know enough to understand its function, even if we can’t figure out how it accomplishes it. We call this particle a ‘repulson,’ and it appears to be quite common here. It is, as far as we can tell in our limited testing, unaffected by gravity.”
Husher frowned. “How can that be?”
Castle shrugged. “How can gravity be? Just because we understand the effects of a force doesn’t mean we can understand the mechanism behind it.”
“I don’t think—”
“The point,” Castle said, raising a finger like a schoolteacher speaking to a particularly thick-headed student, “is that the give-and-take of repulson and gravity has resulted in a rich tapestry of interconnected repulson-based plasma in this universe.”
“And that’s bad?”
“For our technology to work properly, it’s very bad.” Castle shook his head. “Until we understand the repulsons and their interaction with our systems, it’s impossible for us to move interdimensionally.”
“Do we think we can—”
“I was told to get you up to speed, and that’s what I’ve done. Why the admiral couldn’t do this is beyond me, but there you have it. Now, can I get back to trying to understand the very nature of space-time in this universe, or should I take more of my time to explain things I’ve already explained innumerable times before?”
Iver cocked his head, then invited Husher outside the office. They stood on the temporary scaffolding outside, the low hum of the power generators making conversation difficult.
“He’s a real breath of fresh air,” Husher said. “Thanks for bringing me down here.”
“The biggest jerks are often the smartest people. I think that’s a rule of the universe or something.”
“Ah, but this is a new universe. So new rules then, right?”
Iver smiled. “Some rules transcend dimensions.”
“Have we shared our multidimensional jerk’s findings with the Scions? I imagine they’d have something to say about this. Surely they know more about their own universe than we’d be able to glean in the short time we’ve been here.”
Iver frowned, the levity of the moment lost. “That’s the other reason I brought you down here, Vin.”
Husher sensed that this, finally, might be the real reason for all of this—the surprise invitation to review the ongoing research on the Brood. The smart kids in lab coats didn’t need the likes of Iver and Husher poking around in order to get their work done. “I’m all ears.”
“We’ve talked to the Scions, and they’ve agreed to discuss what we’ve learned about the repulsons.”
Husher waited for the other shoe to drop. “I’m hearing a ‘but’ coming.”
“But they’ll only reveal it in person, and they’ll only reveal it to you.”
Husher frowned. “That’s…uh, why is that?”
“Beats me. But the stranger part is, they want to do this on Skisel.”
“Their homeworld? But they don’t want us there. It’s the sacred burial ground of their ancestors. They almost turned on our fleet the first time we started to approach, and we were millions of miles away.”
“They may not want us there, but apparently they do want you there.”
Husher could feel Iver studying his face. “Do you have any idea why that might be?” He felt genuinely shocked. Nothing in his experience with the Scions so far explained this. “I don’t understand it, but it’s too important to pass up. We have to find out what they know. If they want me, they’ll get me.”
Iver nodded. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“Say what?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I want you down there. But something doesn’t feel right about it.” Iver shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t trust them.”
If Husher was being honest, he didn’t either. “They’ve been our allies so far.”
“That could change, Vin. They’re aliens. Let’s not forget that. They aren’t just from another planet, they’re from another universe. Their idea of ‘do no harm’ might be radically different from our human concept.”
“And yet, this might be our best chance to learn about them. If we want to get out of this dimension, we have to figure out this new particle, at least based on what your warm and fuzzy friend in there said.”
Husher waited for Iver to come to the inevitable conclusion that he was right—not because Husher was so sure of himself, but because he couldn’t think of a good reason not to do it. The risk was minimal—just him—and the upside was too great. He was reminded of a quote from The Art of War that his mentor and previous commanding officer, Captain Keyes, had insisted he read during his time aboard the original Providence: “Know the enemy and know yourself; in a hundred battles you will never be in peril.”
“There’s no choice, is there?” Iver said at last.
“Honestly, Admiral, I don’t think so. It’s a risk, but one we have to take.”
“Damn it, Vin. I wanted you to talk me out of this.”
Husher smiled. “You didn’t really think that would happen, did you?”
Iver sighed. “No, I suppose I didn’t.”
Chapter 4
Hangar Bay Alpha
UHC Providence
“So this is it?” Husher was standing on Providence’s primary landing platform. The hangar, the largest of a dozen inset along the belly of the enormous flagship, was big enough to accommodate more than a hundred Pythons, and dozens of assorted transports and ship-maintenance vehicles.
“That’s it,” confirmed the chief deck officer, a man named Alberts, who’d been with the Providence since her maiden voyage. “I guess our ships aren’t good enough for them.” The deck chief sniffed, as if he’d never been so insulted in his life.
In the center of the hangar, conspicuous both by its design and by the fact that there were no ships or fuel attachments within a hundred feet of it, was a Scion transport. The sleek black craft was shaped like a teardrop, and covered in a maze-like set of crisscrossing indentions that made little sense to Husher.
“It’s a small miracle they’re letting me visit their homeworld, Chief,” Husher said. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”
Below the ship, a small gangplank had been lowered.
“Good luck, Captain.”
“Thanks, Chief.” With that, Husher climbed the ramp. As soon as he entered the ship, the ramp retracted behind him. He followed a set of lights down a passageway and into a central chamber. On one bulkhead hung a three-dimensional viewscreen that reminded him of the one he’d seen when he’d met Regan, the first Scion he’d ever communicated with in person. That had been aboard what the Scion had referred to as a mobile command post.
Though he’d seen Scion architecture up-close on that visit, he still found the transport disconcerting. There were no sharp corners to be seen. Like the ropey appearance of the Scions themselves, the ship was all smooth surfaces and round edges. Husher wasn’t provided a seat, but soon found he didn’t need one.
He watched in fascination as the view showed the ship departing the Providence’s docking bay and then moving into deep space. He’d experienced no sensation of movement whatsoever. It seemed like only a few short minutes later when the tiny ball of a planet appeared in the corner of the viewscreen, then grew gradually larger, until it dominated the view from edge to edge.
Skisel.
The world had a deep blue hue, with sparse smatterings of green and yellow to indicate photosynthetic plant growth. Some of that was land-based, certainly, although the vast oceans were dotted with huge plant clusters that floated over the waves like giant lily pads.
Husher had already learned these characteristics from the data they’d gathered during their time in-system, but seeing the planet in person was still a heady experience, especially with it rushing up toward him on the viewscreen. The sensation of falling was acute as the transport entered the planet’s atmosphere at an angle he suspected would have been fatal for one of his own ships.
He closed his eyes and repeated a little mantra to himself: “You’re just here to learn what you can about the Scions and look for a way to get back home.”
When he opened his eyes, he was stunned to see that the transport was already angling toward a point on one of the landmasses. They were hurtling toward it with such incredible speed that details were already beginning to emerge.
An enormous structure Husher could only describe as a giant flower reached up from the surface toward the transport. The ‘stalk’ of the flower was black and smooth. A series of equally dark structures bunched together at the base to form a small city.
The top of the stalk terminated in a smooth black dome. Dozens of flat surfaces extended from that dome, the ‘petals’ of the flower, which Husher guessed were landing platforms. His hunch was confirmed a moment later as more details emerged. There were small ant-like ships buzzing around those platforms. Their shape and architecture suggested they were similar to the transport he rode inside.
He expected his transport would veer toward one of the platforms, but to his astonishment, the central black dome split open instead. A glowing orange light emerged from within, growing brighter as the transport approached.
The transport slipped below the lip and continued to descend.
The walls here were as smooth as any other Scion architecture, though parallel grooves ran lengthwise down the great shaft. The orange light soon disappeared, replaced by a white glow more typical of what Husher was used to on ships of the fleet.
Finally, the transport seemed to slip through the bottom of the stalk and emerge into what Husher assumed was the city at the base that he’d glimpsed earlier.
There was only a moment to enjoy the view, though, before the viewscreen went blank. A moment later, the deck lights began to flash, directing him back down the passageway.
When he emerged, he found a pair of Scions bowing to him from the bottom of the ramp.
“Captain Husher,” the nearest Scion said. He wore a dark green sash across his otherwise naked form. The Scion to his left wore a similar sash with a slightly bluish tint. “This is an honor. Won’t you please follow us?”
“Where are we going?” Husher asked as he fell in behind them. There was no sense negotiating at this point, but after the flight on the automated transport, he was eager for conversation with the Scions, if only to make everything he was seeing feel more real.
“To the meeting place,” said the Scion in the blue sash. His voice sounded exactly the same as his companion’s—the same as almost every Scion Husher had ever spoken with. The translators lent their voices a slightly mechanical quality. Regan had sounded different, but that was because he’d been linked with the mobile command station charged with coordinating Skisel’s fleet.
“Lead on,” Husher said.
“We welcome you to Aurin, Captain,” said the blue-sash Scion as they walked. “One of our largest cities, though I understand your word ‘city’ isn’t an exact translation of our concept.”
“Could you describe that concept to me?” Husher did feel curious, but mostly he wanted to gather as many facts as he could. That was why he was here, after all. Who knew what might prove useful?
“We have population centers, but none are cut off from the others. The buildings you see here are connected. You can’t be…” The Scion again seemed to struggle for the right word. “Outdoors, as you would say. All surfaces of Skisel are connected, and all surfaces are protected. You walk on holy ground, no matter where you go. Even before our other systems fell to the Brood, Scions returned here to give birth. Every one of us is born on this planet, their feet on holy ground from their earliest memory.”
“The land of your ancestors,” Husher said.
The pair of Scions stopped and bowed, then resumed walking. “As you say, so it is.”
Despite being inside a self-contained space that had to extend out for quite a ways—whether it actually encompassed the entire planet wasn’t clear from the translation—the air wasn’t stale or musty at all. It was fresh and lightly scented. Husher found some of the scents pleasant. Others were putrid. He chalked that up to humanity having different olfactory preferences than the Scions.
They passed through a series of broad plazas, airy atriums, bustling walkways, and manicured boulevards. All were brilliantly lit, whether by the glass ceiling or by fixtures that provided variable light.
Both of his Scion handlers, as he’d begun to think of them, took turns sneaking furtive glances at him. The glances slowly became open stares, the red-skinned aliens’ enormous eyes fixed on him for longer and longer. It was creeping him out, but Husher chose not to mention it.
At last, they arrived at a circular chamber with a round platform in the center. One of the two Scion handlers gestured Husher forward.
“You want me to stand on it?” Husher asked.
“If you would, please, Captain,” Green Sash said. “This is as far as we can take you, but this will take you the rest of the way.”
