Final frontier, p.2
Final Frontier, page 2
“I am tempted to back out of this observatory mission and join Captain Jureskan, though I know there is very little I could do to help the situation.”
Krishnik fidgeted. “I am surprised that you are still considering at all to proceed as planned.”
Sharesk turned back to the city lights across the lake. Thousands of Humans—billions more around this world—going about their lives, oblivious to the crisis brewing twenty-two light-years away. Since news of the Norseen betrayal, he must have asked himself at least a dozen times about the wisdom of continuing their relationship with the Humans. What is to stop these Humans from betraying them as well? It was only a matter of time if their history was any indication.
As he recalled, there had indeed been some outright hostility from certain Human groups when the embassy was first established. Other Humans, however, have managed to keep them contained, particularly the local government, which held a reputation of neutrality in Human conflicts for over five hundred years. In the six that he had been on Earth, he had seen honest friendships develop between Humans and Peridjinn. He had even experienced it himself.
But were they honest? It could all be a deception, an attempt to lull the Peridjinn into dropping their guard.
He returned his attention to Krishnik and explained his dilemma. “The Humans had nothing to do with the Norseen betrayal. I will not make them the recipients of undeserved suspicion. We have, after all, had no trouble from the Malcons.”
“Beyond their demands for isolation,” Krishnik said. “We should still take precautions.”
“Indeed we will. Should we fail to return, the Republic will bear down on the Humans.”
CHAPTER 2
Earth Calendar: 998,368 B.C.
GOVKOR CLUNG to the docking interface near the port side airlock, shaping his body to grip the latch and mimicking the metallic hull of his scout ship. Immersed in the complete silence of space as the ship approached an orifice of a spherical starbase.
He had emerged from foldspace at the edge of the sector and waited for the Zirquin patrol ship. He did not have to wait long; the Zirquin came promptly. After scanning the vessel, during which Govkor temporarily froze all his life functions, one of the mechanoids boarded his ship and took control while the other ship continued its patrol.
The Zirquin pilot fired forward thrusters, sending vibrations through the hull, slowing forward momentum as the hatch opened to receive them. Over a half-dozen ships were moored in the hangar bay—many like his own, others of different configurations. Some were undergoing maintenance. While his ship approached an empty berth, Govkor pulled himself out of the docking port and along the ship's hull toward the airlock.
Vibrations rung through the hull as the clamps locked. Govkor stretched, extending himself away from the ship while returning to his natural, gaseous state. He pushed off the hull with the last bit of him holding the metallic state. He floated free while a gangway extended toward the ship. He followed it to the door that accessed the rest of the station.
The door opened just as Govkor reached it. He flattened himself against a nearby bulkhead, morphing back to imitate a metallic surface. No sooner was he in position than a Zirquin entered the hangar bay, moving upon a pair of limbs. A second pair were attached just below an inverted triangular head, each ending in a hand with five smaller appendages—two of them, on either side of the hand, with opposable joints. Two inward-slanting visual sensors in the head glowed white. The bipedal form was an efficient design, a template that the Sagans had used in creating a large percentage of sentient life in the Universe.
Govkor slid along the bulkhead, returning to his gaseous state before slipping through the door. On the other side of the bulkhead, he expanded and shaped himself into a Zirquin. With the transformation complete, he looked up and down the corridor, imitating a Zirquin’s mechanical movements. So far, his presence had gone unnoticed. Now to find a dataport…
He chose a direction and followed the corridor. He passed a Zirquin, then another—both ignored him. To them, and to any other Zirquin he would come across, he was just another unit going about fulfilling its function. If they scanned him, they would know otherwise, but they would have no need to scan him as long as he moved and behaved like one of them.
He arrived at a control interface located in an alcove off the main corridor. He found the interface port. The port allowed a Zirquin unit to link with the station’s central computer. It could also establish a link with other ships and stations throughout the galaxy and, provided the connecting unit was authorized, to the Central Processing Unit on the Command World. Unfortunately, he had been unable to make direct contact with a command unit to form a memory of the notches and ridges on its middle fingers. The moment he attempted to link with the Central Processing Unit, the system would detect an unauthorized intrusion. He had only moments to find what he was after before the system traced the intrusion back to him.
Govkor leveled his arm with the interface port and inserted both middle fingers.
He, or rather his mind, entered a conduit of reds and blues, slowly swirling around him in fluidly. The conduit seemed to run off into eternity. Pulses of light rushed past him and through the smaller conduits that intersected or branched from this one—Zirquin on this station and throughout the galaxy, plugged into the network with him. Govkor willed himself forward. This was the main conduit; following it should lead him to the Command World.
He gained speed. The reds and blues swirled with greater speed until they merged in a purplish hue. In moments, the color faded to a deep red—like the light from a red super giant star. The Zirquin were aware of an unauthorized presence. He pressed on, following the conduit, curving left, circling right, dipping, rising. He finally came to a set of coordinates on the opposite side of the galaxy, near the galactic core.
Sector 1002-300. A binary star system containing three planets orbiting a light blue star and a white dwarf—three natural planets, that is. There was a fourth—an artificial planet. As Govkor studied the coordinates, he noticed a faint, pulsing ring, steadily growing in pitch. But there was another tone, more level than the ringing. He followed it into another conduit while the pulsing ring increased in volume and frequency. By now, the walls of the conduit glowed a deep violet.
He followed the conduit back across the galaxy to a sector in his current quadrant. Sector 3800-256—Epitara, the last holdout of the Darkkon Imperium in the galaxy. The Zirquin were poised to attack.
Govkor turned into another deep violet conduit and brought himself back to Sector 3815-459 and the Zirquin Sphere he was currently on—just as the pulsing ring was becoming a flat tone. He disconnected himself from the interface.
He was back in the control alcove—a high-pitched alarm screaming at him. He turned from the alcove and started back through the corridor toward the hangar bay. With each step, the deck seemed to become unstable. The deck was fine. His shape, however, was losing cohesion. He fought to stay calm and hold his shape. His steps surer, he continued at a quicker pace that he hoped would not draw the attention of actual Zirquin units.
He was nearly at the hangar bay when two security units, the two slanted visual sensors in their triangular head glowing red, rounded a bend and closed on him from the opposite direction. He reached the hangar bay first. The door remained closed. He lifted his right arm to the nearby control panel.
“HOLD POSITION!”
The command came in over the receiver he had formed along with the Zirquin shape. Struggling to maintain his composure, he froze his right arm and turned his head to the approaching security units. Their left arms were up, hands folded inward, wrist-mounted disruptors extended. Clanking, metal-on-metal footfalls behind him announced the approach of more Zirquin units—probably additional security.
Govkor folded his left hand as he swung it toward the two security units, disruptor extended and blazing, and smashed the control with his right. The first two security units were down by the time the door was open. He rushed through. A maintenance unit attending his ship turned glowing yellow visual sensors on his approach. Govkor trained his disruptor and fired. While the unit crumbled, Govkor leaped and dissolved back into his gaseous state. He flowed as fast as he could toward the boarding hatch. He held the shape of his disruptor hand just long enough to destroy the moorings.
The ship drifted from the gangway as Govkor passed through the opened hatch. He floated up to the cockpit and tied his mind to the ship’s computer and thought, Engines. He activated forward starboard and aft thrusters, orienting the ship toward the space hatch, then activated the sublight engines. The ship shook under light disruptor fire. Additional security units had arrived at the hatch. Govkor connected with the weapons systems: aft disruptors, target the gangway, and fire. A chain of explosions took out the gangway and a portion of the corridor he had been in a moment ago.
Govkor turned his attention to the forward weapons, setting the main disruptor cannon to a focused beam, target the space hatch, and fire.
CHAPTER 3
Earth Calendar: 9 March 2105 A.D.
“I HOPE you find what you long for out there, Kenneth,” Aldwin said, holding out his hand. Ken tried to keep his expression firm, but his dad’s beseeching eyes tugged at his heart. He sighed and accepted the hand.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“I love you, son.”
Ken spread his lips in a shy smile and nodded his acknowledgment. Then, he moved to exchange hugs with his mum. “You’re about to go further from home than anyone has ever gone before,” she said.
“Well, me and about fifty others,” Ken said with a crooked smile, attempting to lighten the mood.
“Be safe out there.”
“Not to worry,” Ken said as he broke away from her and turned to Claudia. “I’ll be back in plenty of time to see the birth of our new son.” He placed a hand on her swollen belly and felt a slight vibration under the skin.
“He’ll hold you to it,” Claudia said, wrapping her arms around him. Ken returned the hug. “And so will I.” They held each other like that for several long minutes before Ken reluctantly pulled away and knelt to his older son.
“Can’t I come with you?” Edward asked with begging, brown eyes. “Just to see the Frontier?”
“I’m sorry, Eddie, not this time.” Edward’s eyes fell. “But I promise you… That’s the first thing we do when I get back, alright?”
Edward gave a slight, sorrowful nod. “Okay.”
“Come now. Give me a hug.” Ken wrapped his arms around his son. Edward returned the hug. “You’re the man of the house until I get back. Be good for your mum,” he pulled away and looked into his son’s eyes, managing an encouraging smile, “and if we land on any planets, I’ll be sure to bring back an alien rock for you. Sound good?”
A smile crept onto Edward’s face, and he nodded.
Claudia’s entreating eyes and Edward’s hopeful smile remained in Ken’s mind as he gazed out the window at the buildings and leaf-less trees that whipped by, his right arm supporting his head. The train was traveling northeast, rumbling smoothly along the rails at a moderate clip. They had left St. Denys Station and were now rejoining the path of a river, but only for a moment before the river forked away once more. The PA rang for attention, announcing their arrival at Swaythling as the train slowed.
Then, there was the slight kick little David had given him. He felt his insides turning into knots. He was going to be four light-years—over forty trillion kilometers—from his family. It was only for a two-month survey of the Alpha Centauri System, and all previous tests with the warp drive were successful. So, why was he feeling uneasy?
Passengers around him shuffled and moved toward the doors as they pulled into the station. After an exchange of passengers, the doors closed, and the train pulled out of the station. His stop was next—Southampton Shuttleport. From there, he would transfer to a shuttle bound for Eternity’s Edge.
“Is this seat available?” a feminine voice asked with a New England accent. Ken looked up to see an older woman, seeming to be in her seventies or late sixties, peppered hair framing her gentle face.
“I’m getting off at the next stop actually,” Ken said, standing up and stepping out into the aisle.
“Oh, thank you.” The woman sat down and slid toward the window. Ken started for the door when she continued, “I couldn’t help thinking your face looked familiar.”
Ken rolled his eyes. So far on his trip out from Bristol, his fellow passengers had failed to take notice of him—or, at least they gave him no more than a glance. A cocked eyebrow perhaps. He put on a polite smile and turned back to the woman. “I must have a doppelganger walking about.”
“No, you’re Aldwin’s boy—Kenneth, isn’t it?” Ken furrowed his brow, searching his memory. Could this person be more than just another individual who followed the news? The lady’s grin broadened. “I’m Nancy—Nancy Fisher. You were just a child the last time we met.”
Ken cocked his eyebrows. Nancy Fisher—one of his dad’s old friends and teammates, who worked with him in their civilian life and fought together during the War. But he thought she and her husband had moved back to Maine. “So, you’re an officer in the new Earth Alliance Space Force,” she said.
Ken looked down at his black uniform and the blue emblem of Earth overlayed with a rocket on his left breast. Below the emblem, two gold bars and one black, signifying his rank of lieutenant commander. He nodded and sat down beside the woman. “That’s right, and about to head out—literally—aboard the Frontier.”
“Your father must be proud.”
The PA rang once again. “Now approaching Southampton Shuttleport.”
“I;ll certainly be if I can escape his shadow.”
“Don’t you pay any attention to that fuss the media makes. The important thing is the achievement. Regardless of how your father handled the attention he was given, we—Robert, Sam, and me—we continued to appreciate him for taking the lead and accomplishing what we did together. Saving a group of magnificent creatures from being wiped out entirely.”
Ken smiled and, meeting her eyes, nodded. “Yes, I know. So do I, honestly.” Through the window behind her, he noticed the train slowing and the space shuttle platform beyond the terminal. Excusing himself, he stood again and made his way to the door.
A space shuttle was on the rails when he arrived on the platform.
“McClance.”
He found Captain Bryan Hamilton approaching. Ken moved to meet him, nodding his acknowledgment. “Captain.”
“At ease, Commander.” Ken was about to salute, but his arm had barely twitched before the captain spoke. “How’s your family?”
“They’re well, sir. Are we supposed to meet the representatives here?”
Hamilton shook his head. “We’re to meet them on the station, at the airlock to the ship. You’re missing something on your uniform.” He indicated his own nameplate on his left breast.
Ken slipped his left hand into his trouser pocket and felt the cool, metallic bar. “Yes, I was trying to keep a low profile. I’ll put it on when we get to the space station.”
Hamilton nodded and turned towards the shuttle. Ken followed him aboard and forward to an area near the cockpit reserved for military personnel. “Miss Casey and her assistant will meet us at the airlock aboard the ship,” Hamilton added with a glare. “I’m required to grant them and the representatives every courtesy short of jeopardizing ship security. She said it would be ‘more dramatic’ if she had a shot of us, from the front, stepping aboard our ship.”
Ken nodded as he secured his harness. “She may be right.”
Hamilton, seated near the window, cocked an eyebrow at him for a moment. “Perhaps. I just hope she won’t want an exterior shot of us accelerating to warp. Well, maybe I do...”
Ken smirked at the mental image of the reporter in a spacesuit, a camera on the Frontier as they warped away.
The intercom buzzed for attention. A male voice spoke, “Attention passengers, this is your pilot speaking. Attention passengers. We will be launching in three minutes. If you have not done so already, be sure your harnesses are secured. Attendants are now making their way through the aisle to ensure that you are secure. Should you require assistance, they will provide it. Thank you.”
Ken looked back over his shoulder to see the attendants in white-and-blue uniforms making their way forward, giving each passenger’s harness a firm tug. A few minutes later, the attendants reached them and one of them activated the wall-mounted intercom. “All clear,” he said. He closed the intercom and settled in a seat across the aisle from them while the other started toward the rear of the shuttle at a brisk pace. The boarding hatches whined as they closed and locked with a loud click.
Ken felt movement. He glanced out the window to see that the shuttle was moving backwards. After a couple of minutes, the movement stopped with a loud clang that reverberated through the hull. A magnificent roar shook the shuttle and continued as a steadily increasing rumble that rattled his bones. After five minutes, a second clang! Ken clenched his armrests, suddenly feeling himself pressing against the backrest. He glanced at the window—they were moving, quickly gaining speed. The shuttle tilted upward. The rumble once again became a roar. A third clang!
Ken managed a peek out the window. They were free of the rails and climbing. The harness pressed tighter against Ken's chest.
The shuttle banked right, and Ken soon felt himself upside-down. In minutes, they were far over the English Channel, then mainland Europe.
By the time the rumble of the engines ceased, Ken's weight had disappeared. Out the window, the blue-white Earth receded behind them. The shuttle rolled starboard, shifting his view away from Earth. The great spinning wheel of Eternity's Edge lay ahead of them, steadily getting bigger. An endless black, brilliantly sparkling expanse formed a backdrop. The station was already big enough for Ken to clearly make out the four drydocks, each pair at diametrically opposite points—three of them open and empty.
