Star stuff, p.5
Star Stuff, page 5
Before azoth, we were bound to our solar system, Tom thought. Even a trip to Mars could take years. Now we explore the depths. These crystals are building a galactic empire.
The second crystal was smaller, barely larger than a grain of rice. It was mounted atop the ship. Its job was to open wormholes.
Not particularly large wormholes. Nothing a starship could fly through, and nothing stable. Humanity was centuries away from figuring out how to build those. There were large, stable wormholes in the galaxy, the relics of an ancient alien civilization. Human starships used them sometimes. Those marvels of alien ingenuity required more energy than humanity could dream of generating.
But we can still open Isaac Wormholes, Tom thought.
These tiny wormholes, named after the scientist who invented them, were only a few atoms wide. And they collapsed after only a few moments. But they let a starship like the Galapagos open a communication channel to Earth.
After all, Tom thought with a wry smile, we don't want to send a radio signal they'll only receive long after we're dead. Might be confusing.
He took a deep breath. He had not called Earth in a year. Not since Ganymede. But now, as then, he needed his mentor's guidance.
He sat at his desk. It was made of real wood—gumtree, still aromatic. A layer of glass topped the table, pinning down a canvas map of Earth's seas and ancient trading routes. His brother, Aaron, had made him the desk, painstakingly carving and sanding the wood. But the map was not his. It was an authentic antique, the prize of Aaron's collection, once used to navigate the high seas.
"You're the captain of an exploration vessel," Aaron had said. "You need a good map. This belonged to Captain Cook. He discovered new lands. May you discover new worlds."
He had hugged his little brother. "Aaron! This map is priceless. It belongs in a museum."
"You need a good map!" the young cartographer had insisted. "A map is not just directions from A to B. If that were true, you'd only need a computer. A map …" He had passed his hands over the glass display, and his voice had softened. "A map is art. A map is the grand painting of exploration. A map is order and light in a universe of entropy and darkness."
And there Tom was again. Lost in thought. Remembering his little brother. Tears running down his cheeks.
Maybe I'm no longer fit for duty, Tom thought. Maybe I'm too broken.
He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and flipped open his computer. He entered a few commands, activating the starship's wormhole generator.
The bulkheads creaked, the deck thrummed beneath his feet, and motors rumbled throughout the ship like a sigh. A monitor displayed a video feed from the starship's prow. Tom watched three tubes extend from the ship like cannons. Their muzzles glowed lavender. The light of azoth. The light of twisting spacetime.
Three purple beams burst out from the cannons. They met a kilometer ahead of the prow, forming a triangle. A bulb of light grew where the beams met. Spacetime swirled around the luminous orb like a nebula. A portal opened. A tiny wormhole, thinner than a strand of hair, stretched across the light-years to Earth.
And on that distant planet, that mote of dust in a sunbeam, a phone was now ringing.
And the president answered.
"Tommy! How are you?" President Einav Ben-Ari smiled on the monitor. "You barely call anymore."
Tom couldn't suppress a smile.
She was the Golden Lioness, the legendary war heroine, the military officer who had defeated alien invasions, rose to lead Earth, and built an empire. And whenever he called her, it still felt like calling a beloved grandmother.
In many ways, she was like a grandmother to him. The Emery and Ben-Ari families had been close for three generations now, ever since the great Alien Wars. Tom's actual grandparents had served in Ben-Ari's famous platoon, saving the world on more than one occasion. Everyone on Earth knew their stories.
Einav Ben-Ari was eighty now, no longer that young officer who led fleets against alien forces. The video feed showed a white-haired woman in a rocking chair, holding a cup of chamomile tea. A tabby cat lazed around her feet. But despite her kindly demeanor, there was strength, fierce intelligence, and an iron will in her green eyes. No one would doubt it. This was the same woman who had won the Alien Wars, unified a planet, and built an empire that stretched across a light-century.
"Sweetie, are you all right?"
Tom sighed. Yes, and she called him sweetie.
"Ma'am, I'm thirty-nine years old, and I command a starship. I—"
"You're still the boy who ran naked into my office, crying because a bit of thunder scared him." Ben-Ari sipped her tea. "You're still the youth who came to me with a broken heart, asking for advice after a girl shot you down. You're still the young man who graduated from HOPE Academy with full honors and made an old woman very proud."
Tom lowered his head. "And I'm the man who called you a year ago, his heart broken again."
The president's eyes softened. "It broke my heart too. All of our hearts. Your mother almost flew out to space to be with you. If your father were alive, I'm sure he would have—"
"Ma'am." Tom took a deep breath. "I didn't call to talk about Ganymede. We found something … Something out here in space. And I need your advice."
He told her about the signal from Theta Scorpii, a star in the Scorpius constellation, three-hundred light-years from Earth. A Filipino folk tune, traveling from the depths of space since 1904. A signal that made no sense.
"Ma'am, with your permission, I would like to travel to Theta Scorpii. There's an ancient wormhole we can use along the way. We can be there within three weeks. I want to get to the bottom of this."
Einav Ben-Ari stared at him, eyes dark. She placed down her cup of tea. "You know as I do, Tommy, that Theta Scorpii lies outside the Human Commonwealth. Far outside it. That is uncharted territory."
"All territory is uncharted until we explore it." It was something Aaron used to say.
Ben-Ari's eyes remained hard. "Tom, space is dark, dangerous, and full of monsters. Earth lost billions of lives learning that lesson. The galaxy swarms with predatory species. With alien empires that are so cruel …" Her voice trailed off, and she seemed to be remembering days long ago. Then her eyes focused again. "Your signal comes from the unknown. There's a reason the Human Commonwealth maintains strict borders. We do not fly more than fifty light-years from Earth. A sphere a light-century in diameter, centered around a little blue planet—that is our empire. Anything farther …" She shook her head. "We risk poking a hornet's nest."
Tom nodded. "I understand. A century ago, we ventured too quickly into the darkness. And we awoke monsters. The aliens attacked, and it took heroes like you and my grandparents to beat them back. But back then, Earth was just a fledging planet. We're a rising empire now. A galactic power to be reckoned with. You built this empire! Maybe it behooves us to expand our horizon, to—"
"I did not build the Human Commonwealth to lose it all by starting a war," Ben-Ari said. "Do you know what happens to empires that expand too quickly? It happened throughout history. To the Romans. The Greeks. The Mongols. The British. The Germans. They expanded too quickly—and their empires fell. The Ancient Egyptians did not expand too quickly—and their empire lasted for three thousand years. They lasted longer than the time between us and Christ."
"But there are already humans out there!" Tom said. "We heard them! We received their radio broadcast! What if they need help?"
"And what if it's a trap?" Ben-Ari said. "Bait to lure a human starship into dangerous waters? A siren's song? You would crash your ship upon the rocks."
"I'm willing to take that risk," Tom said. "And so is every man and woman in my crew. We are HOPE officers. We signed up to explore. To understand. We are cartographers. We are the candle in the darkness."
Ben-Ari sighed and leaned back in her seat. She gazed at him, her eyes soft. "You sound a lot like Aaron."
Tom nodded. His eyes were suddenly stinging. "I learned a lot from my brother."
The president stared at him for a long moment, her eyes now hard, calculating. Finally she nodded. "Fly to Theta Scorpii. But stop by New Siberia on the way. Winter is going with you."
"What?" Tom leaped to his feet. "Ma'am, with all due respect, you can't be serious. Winter?"
She nodded. "Yes. Winter. You need a soldier on this mission. Winter and a company of marines."
"We don't—"
"Tommy, I know what happened between you two. But she's your sister. You have to forgive her. You—"
"I really don't want to talk about what happened." Tom's heart was pounding.
"Tommy, she's your family! You two were inseparable until Ganymede, and you need to work together again."
Tom's eyes stung. "Is this really about me needing a military escort? Or is this just family therapy?" He could not keep the bitterness from his voice.
Ben-Ari leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "I am very serious, Thomas Emery. Space beyond our borders is crawling with aliens. With terrors you cannot imagine. With terrors a soldier knows how to handle. You're not a soldier. You're a brilliant man. An explorer. A visionary. A leader. But not a soldier. Nor is anyone in your crew. You need a soldier with you. You need Winter."
Tom stiffened. "No, I'm not a soldier. I'm not a great military hero like my grandparents. I'm not a brave warrior like the Winter Wolf. I chose to join HOPE. An organization you founded! A fleet dedicated to exploration, to science. I could have joined the army. I have a last name that would propel me up the military ranks. I chose to avoid that life."
"You had the luxury to avoid that life," Ben-Ari snapped. "You were born into an era of peace. A peace that your grandparents, along with billions of humans, sacrificed and suffered to create. I did not have that luxury. Nor did your grandparents. I know the value of soldiers. Winter is young, but she knows that value too." Her voice softened. "I taught her myself."
Tom stiffened. "Ma'am, I have nothing but respect for what you, my grandparents, and millions of other brave souls did in the Alien Wars. You are truly the greatest generation. But I vowed to explore the galaxy peacefully."
"Peace starts at home. Make peace with Winter."
"What if I can't?" Tom whispered.
You failed when we needed you, Winter, he thought. And Aaron died.
Ben-Ari leaned back in her rocking chair, and suddenly she seemed smaller. Wearier. Older. "Tommy, I'll be retiring this year."
A chill ran down Tom's spine. "Retiring! Why?"
She smiled thinly. "I'm old, Tommy. I'm eighty. I don't have many good years left, and I want to spend them exploring. I'll become an explorer soon too. My friend Aurora already has a starship chosen. We will sail on a final great journey."
Tom couldn't help but smile. He had grown up around Princess Aurora, an alien mollusk with seven tentacles, color-changing skin, and a wicked sense of humor. The two old ladies, one the president of Earth and the other an alien princess, were inseparable.
"God knows you've earned it," Tom said. "You just caught me off guard. But I understand. You've led Earth for half a century. You ushered us into our golden age. If anyone deserves a rest, it's you."
"After I die, Tommy—" she began.
"That won't happen for many years."
"—after I die, Tommy, it'll be up to you. To your generation. You'll steward the Human Commonwealth, this fledgling empire we built among the stars. Empires are fragile. Civilizations forever walk along a knife's edge, balanced between chaos and tyranny. Space is full of shadows and terrors. Shine a light in this darkness. Lead with wisdom."
Tom nodded, tightened his lips, and saluted. "For Earth."
The president returned the salute. "For Earth."
The wormhole generator gave a plaintive sound and disconnected. It was out of energy. Perfect timing.
Tom looked again at the photo of his siblings and him. Tom, Winter, and Aaron. Kids on a dock fishing on a sunny day. Then he tightened his lips, left his chamber, and marched onto the bridge.
"Helmswoman Santiago!" he barked. "Chart a course to New Siberia We have a marines company to pick up."
And, he added silently, my estranged sister.
CHAPTER FOUR
The HSS Galapagos glided toward the icy planet. Tom stood on the bridge, watching it grow nearer. His fists clenched at his sides.
You're there, sister. I never thought I'd see you again.
He tried to hail the planet again.
"New Siberia, come in. This is Captain Tom Emery of the HSS Galapagos."
Still—no response.
Dammit. He kept flying, nervousness coiling like a serpent in his belly.
New Siberia was what they called an ice giant—a massive frozen world. Humans had first reached this planet a century ago. Horrified by the endless blizzards, bone-chilling temperature, and ferocious predators that prowled the ice, those explorers had considered New Siberia unfit for colonization. Instead, they built a prison here—the most dreaded prison in the galaxy. Officially, they called it New Siberia Penitentiary. Its inmates called it the One Season Hotel, and it wasn't hard to guess which season they meant.
The prison, exposed to the shrieking wind and eternal snowstorms, was eventually considered too cruel—even for the most notorious serial killers. So naturally, they converted the prison into a military base.
You had to be in deep, deep shit to be stationed here. Or, in the case of the few volunteers, completely crazy.
Major Winter Emery was in that second camp.
You came here after Ganymede, Tom thought. Maybe we both needed a place to hide.
He brought the Galapagos into orbit around the frozen planet. Tom stood for a moment on the bridge, looking through the viewport at the icy surface. This world was several times the size of Earth, guarding the frontier of the empire. New Siberia was deadly, yes. But also beautiful in her own way. The plains of ice and snow spread like an abstract painting.
Then Tom raised his eyes and gazed over the horizon. This was it. The border of the Human Commonwealth. Out there was the darkness. A wilderness swarming with monsters, with aliens more terrifying than any creature from human imagination.
And hundreds of light-years deep in that darkness—a jaunty folk song.
Tom suppressed a shudder.
"Hancock, you have the bridge."
The old bulldog thrust out his chest, sucked in his gut, and saluted. "Aye, Captain!"
"Titania, you're with me." Tom motioned for the android. "We're going down to the surface."
They stepped into the hangar bay where several shuttles were waiting. Tom and the android entered one. Tom took the pilot's seat, while Titania rode shotgun. The airlock doors dilated, and they glided out into space.
They flew in silence for a moment. Tom gripped the yoke, orbiting the planet, seeking his destination before plunging into the sky.
Titania's torso swiveled on her hips, turning toward him. "Sir, would you like to talk about it?"
Tom blinked. He glanced at the android. "Where did you learn to say that?"
She tilted her head. "I've heard that when humans are troubled, 'talking about it' seems to help. So, sir, would you like to talk about it? About your sister?"
"No."
"Ah, very well!" Titania nodded. She reached out and awkwardly patted his shoulder. "There there. You are here for me."
Tom rolled his eyes. "You mean that you are here for me."
"Ah yes." Titania nodded. "Human behavior still confuses me so much. Maybe someday I would like to talk about it."
"Titania, let's just focus on the mission for now. There it is." He pointed. "The mountain. I'm taking us in."
Atmospheric entry was rough. Space shuttles had come a long way since the Apollo boys tumbled down to Earth in a glorified tin can. But the most advanced craft would struggle in this sky. The shuttle slammed into New Siberia's atmosphere like a boulder into a sludgy lake of ice water. They rumbled and rattled downward, cloaked in steam and smoke. The eternal blizzard pounded the shuttle with furious fists of snow, each blow dispersing in a white cloud. Tom could barely see a damn thing.
"Would you like me to fly?" Titania said. "I can calculate our location based on atmospheric pressure, cross reference with the latest topographical surveys, and—"
"Please, enough backseat driving," Tom said.
The android tilted her head. "But I am riding gunshot, sir."
"You mean shotgun. And please just let me focus."
He kept descending. The snow kept pounding the windshield. Every breath or two, the wind gusted, parting the snow for an instant. It was just enough to let him see. The mountain soared ahead from a ring of frozen lakes. A concrete fortress crowned its crest.
The One Season Hotel.
"Smartass name," Tom muttered.
He circled the mountaintop. He saw towering walls, guard towers, and lots of barbed wire. Tom shuddered to think of those days long ago when serial killers, rapists, and terrorists languished here in chains.
"I wouldn't wish this place on my worst enemy," Tom muttered.
He landed his shuttle in the courtyard. There was no hangar, not even a pavilion. Just a concrete courtyard among towering walls, exposed to the elements.
There was no greeting party either.
Before Tom emerged from the shuttle, he reached into the glove compartment and grabbed a pistol. He tucked it into his belt and popped the hatch.
The cold stormed into the cockpit like an invading beast. Tom was wearing his HOPE uniform. Navy blue trousers. A white undershirt. A blazer with brass buttons. They were sturdy garments, warm enough for the chilly halls of an interstellar starship, but hardly worthy of New Siberia. In this blizzard, he might as well have been naked. Teeth chattering, he stepped onto the courtyard. The wind sliced through him like icy daggers, penetrating his uniform, his skin, and his very bones.
Tom looked around.
Nobody was here.
