Thirdspace, p.15
Thirdspace, page 15
He had looked for a scientific basis upon which to hinge his concerns, of course. He'd run a full spectrum analysis, to see if somehow the thing could be generating waves that were interfering with the alpha rhythms of the station's populace. Not only didn't he find any suspicious waves-not only was he unable to detect anything being generated by the artifact at all- but he couldn't get past the fact that he had been confronted by a mob whose members came from an assortment of races. Different alien minds functioned in different ways, and the unlikely notion that something could be affecting all of them was rather frightening to him. What could possibly exert that sort of power and influence? He wasn't sure that he wanted to know, but by the same token, he knew he wasn't exactly in a position to just cover his eyes, ignore it, and pray that it went away.
Because if the artifact was having an effect on Babylon 5, then it was his responsibility to let someone know. If not Dr. Trent, then Sheridan. Again, though, what was he going to say? It all sounded so ... so insane, so without anything remotely approaching scientific foundation. That wasn't the way Morishi worked, throwing himself into wild-eyed flights of fancy. He had to know for sure, which meant he had to find a way.
The door to the control room opened and a clearly irritated Elizabeth Trent entered. Without preamble, she asked, "Bill, what's the penalty for killing a captain aboard his own vessel?"
Morishi didn't have to wonder what she was talking about. Up until now, she had managed to, at best, tolerate Sheridan, but it was clear that this "marriage of convenience" between the two of them was in its death throes. "Death by spacing," Morishi told her, which of course didn't sound particularly alluring.
Still, she appeared to give it some thought. "How long does it take?"
"About three, four minutes." She pictured herself, thrashing about in the unforgiving vacuum, and wondered how long she could endure it. Or, more to the point, how long it would be worth her while to endure it. Deciding she didn't like the disparity in calculations, she said, "Two minutes less and it'd almost be worth it."
She shook her head, still clearly angered over some sort of dispute she'd had with the captain. Morishi didn't have to ask her for the details: he knew they'd be forthcoming on their own, and he was right. "Of all the nerve ... to try and blame us for his problems enforcing discipline..."
Morishi couldn't quite believe it. Here he'd been wondering how to broach the subject, and she'd handed him the perfect segue. "Well, in all fairness, things have been getting strange since we got here," he pointed out. "Just this morning, while I was having breakfast, there were all these people..."
But to Morishi's dismay, Trent didn't seem to have heard him. "I know what he's doing. He wants it all for himself," she said, and there was an edge in her voice that definitely didn't sit well with Morishi. She continued, "He wants us to do all the hard work, then he'll just come in and grab the credit out from under us. No-no way in hell," she said fiercely. "This thing is going to make my career, Bill. I won't have it. We'll have to accelerate the program."
Her tone of voice, her attitude-even her word choice-were all very disconcerting to Morishi. It didn't at all sound like the Elizabeth Trent he'd known, admired, and worked with all these years. This woman, she sounded almost paranoid. What in hell was going through her mind?
But she was looking at him expectantly, clearly wanting to know what he could do to help speed up the investigation. The bottom line was, she was the boss. Morishi knew that all too well. Very well, then, if that was what the boss wanted, then he was obliged to provide for her.
"Elizabeth, I want to show you something."
She approached him as he put a diagram of the artifact up on the wall. He tapped an area in particular that he wanted her to look at, and she leaned forward, her brow furrowed. "This grid back here, is that a power relay?" she asked. Sheridan would have been incensed to learn that they had this much data. Trent didn't give a damn.
"We think so," Morishi replied. "Dr. Mankowitz believes an external power source was used to kick-start the internal generators."
She frowned. "They look damaged."
"Someone definitely wanted to shut that thing down," agreed Morishi. "Shot out the internal relays, the power grid. After that, whatever original charge it had dissipated during the time it was drifting through hyperspace."
"I want them reconnected," Trent said without hesitation. "Use spit and baling wire if you have to, but I want those relays connected. Let's use our biggest power cells, see if that works."
Morishi felt a chill cutting through him. The sort of icy fear one feels when one is walking alone in the jungle and suddenly hears distantly the ominous roar of a great beast. A beast that wasn't atop you yet, but had your scent and was definitely coming in your direction. "I don't think it's wise," he said slowly. "Not until we know what it is. The risks..."
"-are insignificant compared to the benefits," Trent cut him off. She said it with such an air of finality that it seemed to Morishi that-as far as Trent was concerned-the subject was closed. Morishi took a deep breath. He wasn't a particularly confrontational man, and he certainly detested the notion of getting into a serious dispute with someone he respected as thoroughly as Elizabeth Trent. Nonetheless, he saw absolutely no choice. "I'm sorry," he told her, and he genuinely was sorry. "A move as radical as this requires the two of us to agree. I don't."
She took a step back as if he'd slapped her. It seemed as if she was sputtering internally, unable to believe that he couldn't see the rightness of her proposed course. "Bill, we have to do this!"
He saw the look in her eyes, and found that he didn't have it in his heart to turn her down flat. His own doubts gnawed at him, but though he wasn't certain about them, he couldn't simply ignore them. He folded his arms and said, "Then convince me."
There was clear annoyance exhibited on her face. Trent was not accustomed to having to explain herself, and she'd had to do it a hell of a lot since setting foot on Babylon 5. It was tiring her rapidly. But she realized that, if anyone deserved her patience-if anyone deserved to know the truth-it was Bill Morishi. They'd been together far too long to start playing games with each other now.
She took a deep breath, as if preparing to jump off a high precipice armed only with the faith that someone would catch her on the way down. "All right. But what I'm about to tell you doesn't leave the room. Is that clear?" When he nodded, she continued, "For two hundred years after we first went into space, ships from Earth would take months just to travel from one planet to another. And traveling to other stars was considered impossible. Then we met the Centauri, and they gave us jump-gates that let us travel through hyperspace. So now instead of hundreds of years, it takes only days or weeks to go from one star to another."
Morishi couldn't quite understand where she was going with this. She was telling him "top secret" stuff that every kid this side of the Rim knew. "Old news. Fact is, the way I hear it, the Centauri didn't invent jumpgate technology either. None of the current races did. They found the gates when they got out into space, took them apart and put 'em back together again. No one even knows who built the first gates." He shook his head, realizing that they'd gotten completely off track. "But what does any of that have to do with the artifact?"
She drew closer to him and lowered her voice conspiratori-ally, as if someone were listening in. "I think it's one of the original gates left behind by whatever ancient race first came up with them." His eyes widened and she knew she had his interest as she continued, "But this one's different. Maybe it was an experiment that got away from them, I don't know ... but I do know that it doesn't open into normal space or hyperspace. I think it leads to a totally different kind of space entirely. Call it a Thirdspace, for lack of a better term, that operates under very different rules." She started to speak faster, her voice propelled by her growing excitement. "If I'm right, travel through
Thirdspace is even faster than hyperspace. Where it took days or weeks to go from one star to another, in Thirdspace travel will be almost instantaneous."
The world seemed to reel around Morishi. He felt lightheaded, almost giddy. He couldn't believe what she was telling him, could barely grasp the immensity of what she was suggesting. It was amazing to him: he'd been looking at the same readouts as she, studying the same material, but he'd never for a moment tumbled to the conclusions that she was putting forward. They made so much sense! How could he have been so slow off the mark?
All he could get out was, "My God ..." Her head was bobbing so fiercely it looked as if it were going to fly off her neck. "It would completely revolutionize star travel, create new avenues of commerce... and it's one hell of a weapon. No more hyperspace probes giving you two days' notice of an approaching battle group. Whoever has Third-space capability can go anywhere, make the hit and get out before they can react. It's the ultimate form of commerce and the ultimate weapon. It's a two-fer, Bill, and it's just sitting there waiting for us to figure it out. Once we do that, all we have to do is figure out where we want to put our Nobel Prizes."
He hardly knew where to begin. Part of him was concerned over the notion that she'd developed ways to transform the artifact into a weapon, since he knew that Trent had no love for anything even remotely militaristic. On the other hand, he had to credit her with coming up with ways to sell everyone on the need for future research.
More than that: it might very well put an end to Earth ever having to worry about being pulled into another war. Although it had been some years since it had been fought, the scars from the Earth-Minbari War always hovered just below the surface of his race's psyche. If Earth mastered this technology, who would ever try to pick a fight with Earth again? They wouldn't dare: not if Earth had mastery over Thirdspace, capable of making instantaneous strikes with no fear at all of personal loss. No one-not the Minbari, not the Centauri, no one-would be willing to take the risk against that kind of firepower. The stars which the people of Earth looked to would never again need to serve as a reminder of what a strange and frightening place space could be. Not with the advent of Thirdspace.
Morishi couldn't even begin to dwell on the philosophical or moral aspects of it. His mind switched over into purely scientific mode as he analyzed Trent's statements, trying to see if there might be something she had overlooked, if somehow she might have arrived at an erroneous conclusion. But it seemed to make perfect sense. Thoughtfully he said, "That might explain what happened, the signs of damage. Whoever originally created it might've intended to use it as a weapon against another race ... only that race attacked before it could be activated." Then he ran up against a block in reasoning and shook his head. "But that doesn't explain how it got into hyperspace; I mean wouldn't they try to keep it for themselves?"
He couldn't tell whether Trent had considered that aspect or not, because she waved it off as irrelevant. "Doesn't matter, it's ancient history." She glanced around as if they were being observed, and when she spoke again, it was with what sounded like vague resentment in her voice. "What does matter is that sooner or later the others are going to figure out what we've got here and they'll try to take it away from us. We need to get there first, crack this thing and get out. The only way to do that is for us to turn it on."
"Well, assuming it still works after all this time."
"It works," she said with confidence. "I can feel it. Bill..." and she took him firmly by the shoulders, trying with all her might to convey to him the enormity of the moment"-this is the big one.... This one puts us in the history books for the next thousand years. Can I count on you? Can I?"
He wanted to shout, No! Maybe it was shut down for some other reason! Maybe a weapon that dangerous should be lost again, forever! Maybe instantaneous travel isn't worth the risk!
It was basic physics that, for every action, there was an equal and opposite reaction. The results that could stem from their starting up a machine as powerful as this one could be mind-boggling in the level of jeopardy they presented. Incredible power opened the door for incredible danger.
But the temptation was overwhelming. This was what his line of work was all about: exploration, discovery, the desire to know more and more. How could he pass it up? It was like a surgeon being presented his first real opportunity to save a life, looking down at his hands to discover that they were trembling, and then bolting from the room. Wasn't this what he was supposed to be all about?
As for his own suspicions as to how people were reacting on the station ... they were all unfounded. Not a shred of genuine proof, or reasonable speculation based upon empirical evidence. She'd laugh at him, sneer at his base cowardice.
Finally he nodded and said, very reluctantly, "Okay."
If she saw any hint of the hesitation in him, she gave no sign. "Good," she said briskly. "Then let's get to work. We don't have much time."
And with those words, the Pandora of the third age of Mankind prepared to open the box.
Vir was not looking forward to what seemed his umpty-umpth meeting with the League. They had very much begun to wear on him, since each of the member races had its own agenda, and the representatives had no hesitation at all in expressing said agendas at the top of their lungs. The worst was when they were all trying to speak at the same time. At least it would have been tolerable if they'd been arguing with one another. Instead they were all putting forward their respective party lines, acting as if none of the others were speaking as they did so. Vir tended to come away more puzzled than ever, and usually with a severe headache.
The transport tube slowed to a halt. It meant that Vir would be a few minutes late for the meeting. He hoped that it would stop at every level, and then he could be many minutes late for the meeting.
Susan lvanova stepped into the tube and nodded acknowledgment to him as the doors slid shut behind her. He returned the silent greeting, and then decided that it would really be far more effective if he actually spoke. "Good afternoon, Commander."
"Hello, Vir," she replied.
He seemed to want to say something to her, but he was hesitant, as Vir oftentimes was. lvanova, who hadn't slept particularly soundly, wasn't especially interested in trying to draw him out, so she kept quiet and hoped that Vir would see fit to do likewise.
"I should tell you," he said, and inwardly she sighed. So much for the subtle approach. Vir, meantime, continued,"... only because it's considered a sign of good luck among my people ... I saw you in a dream last night."
She wasn't even listening, really. Her mind was elsewhere, and Vir's voice registered merely as background noise. "Did you?" she asked, doing a good impression of someone who was interested, even though she wouldn't have been capable of repeating what Vir had just said if someone had put a PPG to her head.
"Well, you and several other women." Vir started to grin at the recollection, and then suddenly he appeared to recall where he was. Very quickly, he wiped the smile off his face. "There's no reason to get into the details..."
Ivanova said, "Probably not." Indeed, she couldn't think of a reason, considering that she wasn't all that up on what Vir was talking about.
"But it was a very vivid dream." Ivanova grunted noncommittally as the lift slowed to a stop at her floor. The doors began to open, and as she moved toward them, Vir was continuing to speak as if not entirely aware that her departure was imminent. "And there was this city... it was just gorgeous...."
She took one step out of the lift and was half a heartbeat away from exiting it completely. Then, for the first time in the entire conversation, Vir's words suddenly sunk in. Ivanova spun and stuck her hands in between the doors, stopping them from closing. Vir blinked in surprise as Ivanova said, "A city."
"Yes."
With growing intensity, she continued, "A big, black city."
His eyes widened. It was as if he were at a party, watching a magician perform a parlor trick. "Yes!"
"With a big, black tower in it, about..." she had no frame of reference, so she gestured toward an imaginary sky and picked a number "-five miles high."
Vir audibly gasped. If she'd suddenly ripped off her face to reveal that she was, in fact, Londo Mollari in disguise, she could not have gotten a bigger reaction. "Yes! That's amazing!"
The blurred images were snapping into focus for her. She remembered something touching her, caressing her ... something deathly cold, accompanied by a sickly, sucking sound. Then all was blank. "And do you remember what happened to me?" she asked.
He seemed to pale slightly. "Yes ... yes, as a matter of fact, I do. You were ..." He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, I wasn't going to mention this part..."
"What?" she said suspiciously.
Sounding very apologetic, as if he personally had transgressed somehow, he said, "You were killed. Eaten, actually. By something... I really didn't get a good look at it. That's all I remember."
She nodded thankfully and stepped back. Vir, happy to be away from the conversation since he hadn't been thrilled with the direction it had taken, bobbed his head with gratitude as the door slid shut.
Ivanova's mind was racing. The dream that she had experienced had been singularly creepy ... but she had been certain that it was simply a dream. What more could it be, after all? Granted, it had exhibited a sense of ... of clarity and reality that the average dream didn't begin to possess. But she'd been willing to chalk that up to her overactive imagination.
But this was something she couldn't ignore. She had seen Vir in her dream, she remembered that now. Every piece was coming back with greater and greater intensity. This wasn't simply a dream, it was a communal experience. And she had felt the sense of other people within the experience as well, who knew how many. She couldn't even begin to guess.
Something had triggered it. Something was trying to invade them psychically, make some sort of ... of connection that was insinuating itself through their sleeping minds ... and, if Deuce and the recent outbreak of hostilities throughout the station were any indications, through their waking minds as well.
