OUTSIDE LOOKING IN, by Mark E. Burgess

Ian Colorado clung to the cliff face a kilometer above the ground, trying not to look down at the bleak terrain spread out far below him. The emerald rock of the giant promontory extended yet another quarter-klick upward before it topped out. He carefully scanned the surface above him for the best route to climb, searching for the finger- and toe-holds that would allow him to ascend another meter, and then another. His ten teammates were fanned out below and to the sides, their environment suits clinging to the sheer face like tiny insects.

Looming in the sky above the wall was the multihued curve of the gas giant exoplanet called Cancri 4. It covered nearly a quarter of the visible heavens, exotically beautiful with its glowing bands of green, ochre and red. The moon beneath Ian’s feet was one of several satellites orbiting the planet, and it possessed the most human-compatible habitat in the system. That made it the logical choice for the outlaw stronghold sitting atop the promontory that Ian’s company now ascended.

For the past year he had been tracking down the space pirate known as Mol’Kenar. This entity, thought to be human, was the most feared and sought-after criminal in inhabited space. For the past decade the pirates under Mol’Kenar’s command had preyed with impunity on cargo ships and passenger vessels alike, and when the Planetary Union had tired of waiting for the regular military to provide a solution, they had called Ian. He was a “fixer of problems,” or at least that was as close a description as could be had for what he did; he had no official title. But he was the best human operative in his field, and when an issue was troublesome enough, he was tasked to solve it.

The Union had made their directive clear: they wanted Mol’Kenar alive if possible. That meant Ian could not simply bring destroyers into near space and bombard the moon until its face was wiped clean. Nor could they easily approach via landers. Stealth probes had clearly showed the bluff’s topside dotted with defensive arrays that would put most Union military bases to shame. That left them doing things the hard way, coming up from below with an elite team that could knock out the defenses, opening the way for a full scale air assault.

Ian laboriously worked his way upward one grip at a time. The micrograv units of his suit hummed as they adhered his hands and feet to the copper-rich malachite surface. Even with the suit’s assist, the climb had been long and difficult, and the muscles of his calves and shoulders ached with the strain. Sweat trickled down his back, creating an itch that was all the worse because he had no chance of scratching it. Best to concentrate on the task at hand, releasing one hold, reaching upward, reactivating the grav-grip as he placed his glove back on the rock.

The yellow orb of 55 Cancri A shone bright in the western sky behind him, casting his bulky shadow against the rock. This star system was a binary; in another few hours the primary sun would set, leaving its red dwarf partner, 55 Cancri B, visible as a bright speck in the northern night sky. The strike team planned to top the bluff around dusk, and make their way to the defensive emplacements under the cover of dark. Then they’d remind these pirate bastards why they should fear the night.

The wind whistled around him, and his sensors showed the outside temperature to be far below freezing. The atmosphere was breathable, but without his suit’s protection, Ian would have been a frozen corpse within minutes. The profile on this moon hadn’t mentioned temperature extremes; it was just his luck to arrive during a cold snap. Well, he’d gotten used to it by now. When it came to weather, it seemed he and his team had encountered nothing but misfortune in recent years. The missions were bad enough in themselves, but he couldn’t recall the last time he had run a field operation in balmy conditions.

A high-pitched whirring sounded abruptly behind him, and Ian started, almost losing his grip on the rock face. Heart racing, he twisted his upper body cautiously and turned his head as far around as he could. There, less than a meter away, hovered a Union standard drone. The blue-striped silver orb gleamed where the sun’s rays bounced off its polished surface. As he watched, a small round hatch popped open in the drone’s side, and a black cable snaked out toward him. So that was it, a message was being delivered. Manual connection was inconvenient as hell, but no airwave communications could be risked during a stealth mission. The drone carried a prerecorded message, couched in a sophisticated personality matrix based on the psyche of the sender. It could hold a simple dialogue, closely mimicking the responses of the actual person it represented. After logging the conversation, the device would then retreat to a safe distance and beam the encrypted recording back for the sender to review.

Ian carefully detached one gloved hand from the cliff and grabbed the cable as it came within reach. Quickly he plugged it into the input jack on his helmet, and then returned his hand to its grip on the rock.

In a few seconds a virtual image popped up inside his helmet display. What met his eyes caused him to blink in surprise. The graying solidly-built man staring at him from behind a desk wasn’t Ian’s usual contact. From the emblems on his uniform, what could be seen of them under the proliferation of medals, the man appeared to be a high ranking general in the Allied Space Forces. This was highly irregular; very few people knew he was here outside of special ops. Before Ian could speak, the frozen image came to life and said, “Ian Colorado, I presume?”

“Who wants to know?” Ian replied testily. General or not, he wasn’t in the mood for a chat right then, not while hanging off a damned cliff, and not with his objective finally in sight. Nor did he trust this stranger who seemingly knew more than he should.

“I’m General McAllister, Allied Space Command,” the man answered. Ian felt a hint of disappointment at the image’s bland expression. What good did it do to sound off to a superior if you couldn’t achieve the desired reaction? The general’s likeness continued in a measured voice, “Sorry for the intrusion. I’ve been authorized to request your presence at once.”

“What?” Ian was flabbergasted. “Do you have any idea who we’re closing in on here?”

“Mol’Kenar, as I understand it,” the general replied levelly. “Forget him. We need you here. Now.”

Ian couldn’t believe his ears. The target was highly classified, and also had been a top priority of the Planetary Union for most of the past decade. What could take precedence over this mission?

“I…what should we do about the objective?” he asked the general, too bemused to even sustain his anger.

“Have the rest of your team proceed as planned. They should be able to accomplish the task without you holding their hands?”

Ian replied numbly, “Yes.”

The general nodded, a fleeting smile crossing his features. “Good. We’ve got a ground transport waiting near the cliff base. It will take you to a place shielded by mountains, where a shuttle can take you off planet without detection. I’ll expect you here in a few days. Oh, just so you know, we’re not meeting on Earth or in the Centauri system. Epsilon Eridani is your destination. Out.”

With that the transmission went dead, and Ian pulled the cable free of his helmet in a daze. The cord whipped back into the drone, and it instantly dropped from sight. Looking over and down at his teammates, he saw them holding position on the cliff face, staring up at him. They had seen the exchange and knew something was afoot. Ian sighed, and with his free hand he signed to them to continue without him. His second in command gave him the “affirmative” response, and just like that, Ian’s duties there were concluded.

It was time to go. He hit the grav release on his left forearm control panel. In one fluid motion he arched his torso away from the rock wall, extending both legs forcefully as he did so. His kick propelled him in a graceful backward dive away from the cliff, flying outward and past the team members below him. Their suit-clad forms rushed by and were gone as he gained momentum in a vertical free fall toward the surface. He twisted in midair, turning belly-down to the ground. From this height he could see the panorama of rocky badlands extending in a green and black mosaic all the way to the horizon. The sun was dropping low in the sky, casting long shadows over the tumbled landscape below.

The wind buffeted his suit as the cliff flew by in a blur. Down, down he dropped, the ground features swelling as they rushed to meet him. Ian waited until he was low enough to escape likely detection from above. Then he punched the parachute release, and the impact slammed his upper body as his speed was abruptly arrested. He floated now, suspended above the rocky spires and valleys, drifting on cold air currents. Grabbing the control cords, he scanned the terrain beneath him, and after a moment began steering his chute toward a likely landing site. His one thought as he headed slowly down was that this had better be really important.

True to his word, the general had provided top level transportation both on the ground and in space. Speed was apparently a priority. The small interstellar shuttle was of unfamiliar conformation, but it moved through hyperspace faster than Ian had thought possible.

A few short days later he was in the Epsilon Eridani system, located about 10.5 light years from Earth. The second planet, named Ariel, was a stark rocky sphere with little atmosphere, but lying within the system’s habitable zone. Its size and location meant that gravitation and surface temperatures were moderate by human standards. Those traits, combined with its low atmospheric density, made Ariel an ideal site for the research observatory which the military had built on and under the planet’s surface.

Upon landing, the shuttle’s commander escorted Ian to his quarters to freshen up. A few hours later he was seated in a conference room around a long table with a dozen other representatives of the Planetary Union. Their uniforms marked many of them as high level military officials, but about half of those present wore the blue and gold smocks of the Science Division. Ian was relieved to see his armed forces liaison, Colonel Parker, among those seated at the table. He had been worried that his usual command hierarchy might have been cut out of the loop entirely.

The general who had contacted him previously now presided at the table’s head, with Ian seated at the other end. Without preamble General McAllister introduced the individuals in attendance, many of whom were prominent physicists from various star systems. Besides humans, there were several alien races represented. To Ian’s surprise a blue-tentacled Corotian sat in attendance near the far end of the table. Its home system was nearly fifteen hundred light years from Earth, making it one of the most outlying members of the Union. Whatever was taking place must be significant to warrant a trip of that magnitude.

When introductions were finished, General McAllister looked Ian in the eye and said, “Welcome from all of us, Mr. Colorado. I imagine you want to know what this is all about.”

“You could say that,” Ian replied evenly. “I was taken off a very important mission to be here.”

“Not as important as this,” the general assured him. “Perhaps I should have Dr. Cavanaugh explain the background to you.” With that he looked to his left, where sat a comely fortyish woman with sandy blond hair.

The doctor smiled at Ian and began, “About ten years ago, the researchers at this facility encountered a most peculiar phenomenon. The sensor arrays registered a massive spike across the electromagnetic spectrum, one which had no definable source. It seemingly came from everywhere in known space.”

Ian raised his eyebrows in surprise; this was not sounding like a typical briefing. Dr. Cavanaugh continued, “Even more puzzling were the simultaneous gravitational waves originating from every celestial body in range of the detectors. It was as if something had violently jarred all of spacetime and left it to oscillate in the aftermath.”

“This was a galaxy-wide phenomenon, not localized to this system?” Ian asked, perplexed.

“Not just galaxy-wide,” the Corotian emissary interjected. Its puckered mouth made sounds like popping bubbles as it pronounced the human words. “This occurrence appears to have involved all of known spacetime, including other galaxies and celestial objects out to the furthest reaches of our universe.”

Ian held the alien’s gaze, saying slowly, “That…is hard to believe. The magnitude of such an anomaly rules out a new type of weapon, I would think.”

A dark haired man sitting next to Dr. Cavanaugh nodded. “Agreed. I head the combat tech group at Alpha Centauri Base. No technology we know of could create a disruption that widespread.”

Dr. Cavanaugh added, “It gets worse. After the Event, as we referred to it, we ran intensive scans of known space, using sensors and telescopic arrays. While doing so, we started to recognize other anomalies, things that should not, could not, have been possible. But there was no doubting the measurements, not when they had been checked, and rechecked, and compared to those taken in other inhabited solar systems. The data supported only one conclusion, as incredible as it sounds: our universe had dimmed.”

Ian sat back in his chair. “Exactly what do you mean by that?”

The doctor leaned forward, hands folded as she returned his gaze intently. “I mean that all the stars within reach of our scans showed a loss of luminosity and a shift toward the red spectrum. In layman’s terms, every sun had become darker and cooler.”

Ian wasn’t a physicist, but he felt a chill run down his spine. He was beginning to comprehend what had these science types looking worried as hell. He licked his lips and asked, “How much did they dim?”

A third scientist sitting to Ian’s right spoke up. He was a squat Rigelian with a neatly trimmed feather crest topping his orange-tinged head, and he stroked it unconsciously as he spoke in a high pitched voice, “The changes were infinitesimal, on the order of less than one tenth of one percentage point, but they were real. Furthermore, our detectors revealed similar reductions in radio emissions from black holes, and even in the cosmic background radiation that is left over from the universe’s birth. All energy, everywhere, was reduced by a distinct and measurable amount.”

Ian glanced from face to face around the table before venturing, “I gather that it didn’t end there, or we wouldn’t be discussing it now.”

Dr. Cavanaugh sighed and answered, “Unfortunately you are correct. Six months after the first event, another ripple jolted our spacetime, and the output from detectable energy sources dipped again. From that point forward the anomaly has repeated an average of four times per year. Over the decade since the first recorded incident, the measurable solar heat and light output in all inhabited star systems has dropped nearly three percent.”

Ian sat stunned as he absorbed the meaning of the words. “But that would cause changes…” he said haltingly.

The physicist nodded somberly. “The effects have already been felt on multiple worlds. Several planets with marginal temperature ranges are becoming uninhabitable outside of protective biodomes. Those with milder climes have also experienced progressive cooling, and concern is mounting that incipient ice ages might be on the horizon in a handful of heavily populated worlds. If the trend continues, it will only be a matter of time before humanity, and possibly all life in the known universe, could be in jeopardy of extinction.”

Mol’Kenar was long forgotten as Ian came to grips with what they were telling him. “I’ve not heard a word of this anywhere!” he sputtered. “How could something this big escape notice?”

“The information has been restricted to a few select members of the government and science communities,” General McAllister answered. He spread his hands on the table. “Can you imagine the mass panic on worlds across the Union if people knew the truth? It could do nothing but harm. Societies might break down into complete anarchy.” His expression was grim as he ground out the words, and Ian knew the man was right.

But… “Something has to be done!” he insisted. “There has to be a reason for this, a specific cause that can be addressed. Have you learned anything more about the phenomenon?”

Dr. Cavanaugh spoke again, and her tone was almost gentle, as if she regretted the burden of knowledge they had laid in his lap. “We’re getting to that. It was obvious in the first few years that the problem had to be addressed, and quickly. The best scientists of multiple worlds convened to discuss the situation, but no one knew the source of the anomalies, so we were all at a loss as to a solution. There was nothing anyone could do but watch the universe slowly wind down, like a battery whose charge was finally depleted.

“But we didn’t give up hope. This facility continued monitoring known space with every piece of equipment at our disposal. Our scientists operated under the assumption that if energy was disappearing from the universe, it had to be going somewhere. To this end we revived some earlier experiments involving phase-shifting of matter and energy. Those projects had originally been aimed at probing the possibility of overlapping or ‘parallel’ universes.”

Ian’s head was swimming with each new revelation. This was starting to sound more like speculative fiction than reality. He managed to ask, “What came out of those studies?”

Dr. Cavanaugh smirked and said, “Our funding was discontinued because of equivocal results. Although the data suggested that alternate phases of spacetime could indeed exist, we were never able to define a specific reality outside of the known universe. It was like attempting to tune into a radio wave broadcast without knowing the exact frequency needed. There were nearly an infinite number of phase variations possible, with no way of knowing which coordinates corresponded to actual realities.”

“But you revived those experiments in search of answers to the current problem,” Ian prompted.

“Yes,” she said, “and we got lucky. Our breakthrough finally came when one of the disruptive events occurred while the phase-shifting equipment was active. At the precise moment when the electromagnetic spectrum jumped and gravity shuddered, the equipment reported a massive surge in the multiphasic energy readings. The energy spike had been concentrated in one specific frequency, corresponding to a single alternate spacetime. In that brief moment two major problems had been solved. A parallel dimension had been identified, and it appeared that it was the source of the energy drain in this universe.”

“I see,” Ian said, weighing the implications. “So you’ve localized the origin of the phenomenon, but it’s not even within our universe. Where does that leave us?”

“In a better position than you might imagine,” Dr. Cavanaugh answered with a grin. “That discovery provided the impetus for us to launch the Lazarus Project. The desperation of our situation greased the wheels of progress in ways you can’t imagine; we had the resources of multiple worlds at our disposal. Five years and trillions of galactic credits later, we succeeded.”

“Succeeded? In what?” Ian asked, frowning.

“We developed the device that may give us our answers, the reason you are here,” the physicist replied. “It’s called the Interdimensional Phase-Shifting Transducer. We call her “Ipsy” for short.”

“I assume you’re going to tell me what it does,” Ian asked with a blank look.

“Of course,” Dr. Cavanaugh replied, nodding. “The device has one function: it is capable of opening a localized rift between universes. Unfortunately, prodigious amounts of energy are needed to accomplish this feat, and even with ten antimatter reactors powering Ipsy, the window she creates can only be maintained for a few moments before it collapses and closes. This is just enough time to push a small object through to the other side.”

Something clicked in Ian’s brain, and he said cautiously, “An object like a human being?”

The steady gazes of those around the table told him what he needed to know. Dr. Cavanaugh said quickly, “Oh, we didn’t start with human subjects, of course. No one knew what awaited us in the other dimension. Some worried that a supermassive black hole might lurk there, sucking matter and energy to itself via a weak link with our universe. Despite the urgency of the situation, we knew that caution was paramount.”

“So exactly what have you done prior to this?” Ian asked her.

“When the device first came on line, we began sending inanimate objects through, retrieving each after a short interval. The machine locks onto the matter-energy profiles of the materials that it passes through the rift, and can pull them back into our reality from beyond. Simple rocks and bits of metal returned successfully with no measurable alterations to their structure.

“Next we experimented with organic substances, sending pieces of fruit and other plant material through the machine. Again they were retrieved undamaged. This suggested a relatively non-hostile environment on the other side, so we pushed the experimental timetable forward.”

“What about sensor equipment?” Ian asked. “I’d send a data collector through and see what it could tell us.”

A few chuckles were heard around the table, and Dr. Cavanaugh nodded and grinned. “Our thoughts exactly. A probe was launched into the rift, to gather information on atmosphere, temperature, gravity, and to collect visual images from the other side. Unfortunately the phase-shifting process appeared to scramble the unit’s memory, and no coherent data were obtained upon its return. We were forced to move on to the final stage of the project with what information we possessed. This meant sending a living creature through the machine.”

Ian leaned forward with interest. “And how did that go?”

The Rigelian to Ian’s right replied, “A small rodent in a protected habitat was the first to travel through. It returned alive and well a few minutes later, albeit a bit dazed from the transference process. When no lasting effects were observed in the test subject, a monkey was sent through in a custom made environment suit. It also made the journey beyond and back unharmed, but it appeared quite agitated when it rematerialized in the laboratory.”

“I can empathize; it’s not every day that you jump universes,” Ian commented wryly.

“Actually we don’t expect the transference to be stressful, as it should be nearly instantaneous. The rat seemed unfazed by the experience,” the scientist replied.

“Then why was the monkey so keyed up? Ian asked.

The other man shrugged. “We don’t know. Electroencephalograms and magnetic resonance imaging revealed no organic damage to the animal’s brain, and no reason could be found for its behavior. The only peculiarity was a row of parallel gouges on the back of the monkey’s protective suit, which we couldn’t logically explain. Maybe it managed to traumatize itself while on the other side.”

“And now you want me to go through and see what’s over there,” Ian concluded. “If I do this, can I take my team with me?”

Dr. Cavanaugh shook her head regretfully. “There is only enough window capacity to pass a single object through at a time. We’d have to send in a team one by one, with several minutes between each. At this time, we think it’s best to use a single operative to assess the situation, and then decide on a course of action from there.”

Ian’s longtime superior, Colonel Parker, spoke up. His icy blue eyes were piercing under his regulation military haircut. “Ian, we’ve chosen you for this mission because we feel you’re the best qualified, and your judgment can be trusted. You’ll have complete discretion once you’re across; do what you think is best. If somehow you can resolve the problem yourself, you may attempt to do so. Otherwise, your task is to gather information and survive to bring it home.”

For a moment Ian sat quietly staring at his hands. Eventually he raised his eyes and asked the colonel, “Do I have a choice?”

Colonel Parker nodded. “It’s a volunteer mission, Ian. If you decline, then we’ll find someone else.”

General McAllister spoke up then, his gravelly voice compelling everyone’s attention. “So what do you say, son? Are you in?”

Ian hesitated for only a moment before nodding his head. Like it or not, there really was no other option, and everyone knew it.

A few weeks later he sat motionless in the heavy steel chair of Ipsy’s transference chamber, wondering if he had made a wise decision. There were far too many unknowns for his liking, too much that could go wrong even within the known parameters of what they were attempting. He could see the main control panel beyond the fused quartz window of the sealed door. Its digital clock counted slowly down toward zero, the amber numbers flashing and vanishing as his last minutes slowly ran out. He reflected cynically that in times past, men convicted of capital crimes might have met their fates in similar fashion. Hopefully the end result here would be more conducive to his health.

He sucked in a big gulp of processed air, hearing the hollow rush of his exhale in the helmet. The environment suit they had provided him was unique, being a combination of protective habitat, information-gathering equipment, and potent defensive armament. There was no telling what he was going to encounter out there. Being prepared for all eventualities was a way of life for Ian, and he had insisted on specific design parameters for the suit when he had taken the mission.

Now the time had come to push the limits of technology, to lift the veil and see what lay beyond. He glanced over the suit readouts in his helmet display one last time, as the master clock ticked toward zero. All indicators were reading nominal. Time slowed as the end approached, ten seconds now, with a surge of adrenaline pounding his heart and clenching his jaw. Five seconds, and he felt his skin begin to crawl as the machine’s energy fields took hold. Three seconds, two, one, and….

Just a hint of a brilliant flash, there and gone in an instant; a jolt as if an electrical current had coursed through his body, again so fleeting he wasn’t sure it had even occurred. Then he was sitting quietly on a smooth hard surface—where?

Fighting off a wave of disorientation, he scrambled to his feet, probing his surroundings with eyes and sensors. It was dark, everything an admixture of shadows within shadows. As his vision adjusted he realized there were sources of illumination here and there, some pinpoint in size, and others more diffuse, creating areas of lighter hue within the dark. Slowly his surroundings became more visible. In a moment he froze in surprise, arms dropping out of his ready stance as he stared in disbelief. Quickly he checked his sensors to be sure his eyes were not deceiving him. Yes, there were walls, a ceiling, and regularly-shaped objects which appeared to be of artificial construct arrayed all around him. He was inside a building!

For a moment he slumped, overwhelmed by a sense of profound failure. They must have gotten it all wrong, and somehow he had been transported to a different locale within his own universe. As he stood frozen, pondering the situation, he gulped and forced himself to calm down, slowing his racing thoughts. With all the science and preparation that had preceded this moment, he had to conclude that the odds favored success, and that he was probably right where he had intended to be. An alternate reality didn’t have to be bizarre. In fact, it might be just a bit different than home.

He gathered himself and began studying the room he had materialized within. The suit readouts showed temperature levels that were cool by human standards, but livable. Oxygen was present in the atmosphere, but again was on the thin side for Homo sapiens, being only fifteen percent of the air mix. The gravitation here was 0.75 of Earth normal, so he would be light on his feet, even clad in the heavy suit. Ian had trained in a variety of environments all the way down to zero gravity, so this posed no more than an inconvenience to him.

His eyes were now adjusting to the dim conditions, and he swept his gaze around the area. Some of the faint specks of light had resolved into blue and amber indicators on the faces of what appeared to be large banks of equipment. Eventually his attention was drawn by a relatively bright object only a few strides in front of him. Cautiously he moved his feet and approached the pale glow, crossing the smooth floor easily. On nearing the source of illumination, he could see that it was a cube-shaped structure which sat atop a table or platform. It measured less than a meter in diameter, and appeared comprised entirely of a transparent material. The wan light was coming from within its depths. He moved closer and bent to peer inside.

It took a few moments to make sense of the miniature panorama on display within. The cube’s interior looked inky black, and despite its clear surfaces he could not see through to the other side. Within the dark matrix were suspended numerous glowing shapes, some larger, others pinpoint in size. The tiny objects looked familiar, and he squinted as he tried to discern what they were. Some were disc-like, others were wispy spirals with arms that swirled around a bright center…he drew back as recognition struck him, shaking his head in denial. There was no way, no way that what he was thinking could be possible.

Half fearing what he would find, Ian gritted his teeth and extended his hand over the cube, probing the object with his suit’s sensors. The telltales on his helmet visor lit up, and he numbly scanned the incoming data. The readings indicated high levels of energy contained within, on a scale far above what an object that small should be able to generate. It was not a simple power source, either, such as an antimatter or fusion reactor. There were spikes all over the electromagnetic spectrum, from visible light to hard radiation. Even the gravitational readouts were off the scale. There was substance inside the cube, unbelievable amounts of it. What should have been wild conjecture was looking more and more plausible. He felt a wave of dizziness, and he staggered back from the cube with blood rushing in his head and bile in his mouth.

As he stood gasping for air, a conversation came to him, something that a Lazarus researcher had told him in a briefing just two days before.

“How do I know that I’ll end up anywhere useful?” Ian had asked the scientist, frowning as he considered the possibilities. “That’s an entire universe you’re sending me into; I could enter it hundreds of light years away from where the energy drain is originating. Heck, I could wind up in the wrong galaxy, for all we know.”

The physicist had shaken his head, scratching his blonde hair thoughtfully as he said, “We don’t think that will be a problem, Ian. The transducer coordinates are based on where the power surge occurred during the Event. Not only should that lead you to the correct universe, it should also follow the energy drain to its source within that spacetime continuum. You should emerge at, or very close to, the heart of our problem.” The scientist had grinned at Ian as he added, “What you do about it from there, well, that’s your area of expertise.”

And here he was, looking into what seemed to be, as near as he could tell, his own universe. Captured in a display on a table, as insane as that sounded. “You’ll come out close to the heart of the problem.” If their universe had truly been confined to a vessel by whoever had built this facility, then humanity and all other inhabitants of Ian’s spacetime would be at the mercy of those who possessed this cube. His thoughts whirled as he struggled to wrap his mind around the reality.

But even if it were true, the idea gave rise to other problems. Such as: how could anyone draw as much energy from the cube as what Ian’s entire universe had lost? He frowned as he wrestled with the question. It must not be an equivalent transfer; this spacetime might be larger, and hold more matter and energy, than the reality that Ian had left behind. That could explain how someone here had managed to contain his entire universe in a box. Or maybe there were other physics at work here, science far beyond what humanity had mastered.

Thinking about it made Ian’s head hurt. He was a man of action, not one prone to abstract contemplation. It seemed to him that this was the time for some active intervention on his part. Approaching the cube once again, he wrapped his arms around it and nudged. The servo-assisted limbs of his suit enhanced his normal strength by two hundred percent; he felt the object slide sideways a short distance as he applied force. Good; it was not fastened down, and although it was heavy, it could be lifted if need be.

He was contemplating his next move when suddenly the room brightened. Lights were powering up all over the ceiling, casting an odd red glow that strained his eyes, but bright enough to reveal everything around him. Ian stepped back and quickly took stock of his surroundings. It appeared that he currently stood near the center of a truly cavernous room. Towering banks of machinery rose on all sides, with control panels and instrumentation covering their metallic faces. From the central open area where he stood, four main corridors fanned outward toward the room’s periphery, one in each direction, like valleys between the mountains of equipment. The distant walls were unbroken by any visible openings, although large slabs resembling shutters could mark the locations of hidden windows or doorways.

Four massive black cylinders extended from the ceiling above him, tipped with concave dishes. To Ian they resembled electromagnetic energy accumulators such as those used in radio telescopes. The difference here was that these were aimed downward rather than up at the sky. In fact, they appeared to be focused directly on the cube in front of him. He realized with a sinking feeling what these dishes were likely to be accumulating.

At that moment a grinding sound came to him through the speakers in his helmet. He tore his gaze away from the ceiling and saw a large door panel sliding open on the far wall. The room was now illuminated well enough to easily reveal him to anyone entering. Instinctively he jumped to the right, seeking cover behind a bulkhead that rose up from the floor near the cube. The weak gravity provided less resistance than he was accustomed to, and a single spring of his legs resulted in a superhuman leap, nearly carrying him past his destination. He landed barely behind the bulkhead, and quickly crouched down to view the doorway.

What strode through the portal a moment later was unlike any life form Ian had encountered. Vaguely humanoid, the pair of creatures walking side by side appeared more like grotesque caricatures than real beings. Their bodies and limbs were incredibly elongated, thin to the point of appearing emaciated, with sparse flesh covering the harder body parts that showed through with painful clarity. They wore little covering other than a loin piece, and a belt from which hung several implements—tools or weapons? Even the sound of their ambulation was unnerving. The sharp click-and-rasp of their feet on the floor was accompanied by a dry creaking, as of old branches rubbing together in the wind.

Their heads sported bulging craniums with large round eyes set unusually high in their foreheads, leaving a blank countenance below which was broken only by two small orifices. Ian’s trained eye looked past the superficial strangeness of their features, keying on the biologic characteristics suggested by the physical traits. Low-gravity organisms, based on the fragile skeletal structure and height. Possibly native to this very planet. The oversized eyes suggest nocturnal vision, or at least high photosensitivity. This dim red light is probably their normal spectrum.

The creatures headed toward the room’s center, drawing closer to where Ian crouched. They appeared to be conversing, each emitting a guttural croaking from its upper facial orifice, interspersed with harsh sibilants and clicks. Ian’s suit included a universal translator, something that had been developed with the cooperation of other sentient races when humanity had become part of the galactic community. The translation device functioned by detecting brain energy emissions and correlating them with recognized logic patterns, and added some complicated intuitive processing that humans still didn’t fully understand. Regardless, the thing had worked with most organic life forms encountered so far. The only exception in recent memory was the encounter with the vapor beings of the giant gas planet orbiting Gliese 581. But they hardly qualified as organic, so the failure there was understandable. Ian was hopeful that the device would prove useful now, and he was not disappointed.

As the two creatures came within ten meters of Ian’s position, the speaker in his ear began to emit words in time with their vocalizations. The being on the left gestured at the cube and said, “…this project…risks not forseen…objects materializing out of the model.”

The other creature replied, “Need more study…my dimensional model…unlimited potential for learning…”

“No,” the first being cut the second one off, gesturing emphatically. “Risks too high; need to shut down…study existing data before further research is undertaken.”

Ian crouched motionless, grimacing as he listened in on the aliens’ conversation. Dimensional model…that should be the cube. And the comment about objects materializing out of it—they’ve got to be referring to the Lazarus project! Damn, I was right!

The two creatures continued their animated discussion near the cube, and while he listened, Ian pondered a course of action. Somehow he had to get possession of the device, and perhaps hide it until the scientists back home could formulate a plan. Once the room was vacant again, he might be able to act.

The situation changed abruptly moments later, when the doorway disgorged a dozen or more aliens carrying what looked suspiciously like energy weapons. They marched forth in disciplined ranks, and stopped a handful of strides from where the other two stood. The original pair looked at each other, and the one who had claimed the cube as “its model” exclaimed, “What means this?” It raised its hands as if to hold the others back. “The military…no business here. My project, not yours.”

The ranks parted and a single figure stepped forth. Its thin frame carried more ornamentation than the rest, with ribbons draped diagonally across its torso in addition to the usual belt and loin piece. Portions of the fabric strips gleamed as if metallic devices were attached. Ian grunted in recognition; regardless of species, military brass always seemed to love their pomp and glitter.

The newcomer looked from the cube to the two researchers, and it began to speak forcefully. Its words repeated through the translator, their meaning ominously clear. “Our sensors show further activity from the model. This project…now under military control. Risk must be contained. This energy source…proven very useful…can drain remaining power for our needs. May also explore the model, exploit internal matter-energy matrix. Very useful, its properties can be.”

“Not what we agreed to!” the cube’s creator responded, gesticulating wildly. “Not acceptable!”

“No choice in matter,” the military official stated, apparently unfazed by the other’s protests. It drew itself up to its full height and gazed imperiously around the room. “Will have military guard around device at all times…protect against incursions from within the dimensional construct.”

The argument continued hotly, leaving Ian with a precious few moments to weigh his options. This was a truly unfortunate development. The aliens had realized that objects were appearing from within the cube, and were increasing security in response. The military’s involvement would certainly interfere with future human efforts to address the situation. There might not be a better opportunity to intervene than he had right now. But what could he accomplish alone?

The words of the military official replayed in Ian’s mind. The aliens had plans for the cube, with potentially dire consequences for Ian’s universe. Draining the object’s energy could effectively destroy all life as he knew it. The other alternative, that of “exploring the model,” sounded suspiciously like an invasion. Neither option was acceptable.

His mind made up, Ian peeked around the bulkhead once again, sizing up the situation. During the confrontation the two civilian aliens had moved away from the cube, approaching the armed contingent on the far side from Ian’s hiding spot. It was now or never.

Ian shut down his external audio pickup. Then he raised his left arm and quickly launched three flash-bang charges at the tightly bunched creatures. An instant later he ducked back behind the bulkhead and squeezed his eyes shut.

The rounds flew in a flat arc and landed just short of the aliens. They looked up at the sound just as the charges detonated. Brilliant flashes briefly dispelled the room’s red twilight, outlining every object in stark detail. The sensitive eyes of the creatures were hit with the intense burst from close range, and they dropped their weapons and covered their faces as the deafening percussions also assailed their hearing.

Switching his audio receiver back on, Ian popped back up to find most of his targets down and disoriented. Some were rolling on the floor as they emitted guttural groaning noises. He leapt from his protective cover and rushed to the cube. Once there he wrapped his arms around it and heaved upward. With his suit’s enhancements the task was easier than expected, and the bulky object came free into his hands. He straightened and began to move as the aliens were regaining their feet.

Behind him erupted a frenzied croaking, and his helmet speaker spat the words, “Stop the creature! Get the model! We must have it!”

He powered away from the aliens with long leaping strides, flinching as a blue bolt of energy streaked by his right side. The round impacted on a bank of equipment and blew a charred hole in the metal panel. Another flash passed over his head a second later. Thankfully the creatures’ aim was off, likely due to ghost spots still marring their vision. More vocalizations arose to his rear, louder this time, and the helmet translated, “No plasma rounds! If cube ruptures we all die! Neuro-stuns only!”

Ian wasn’t sure what type of weapon the latter was, but he didn’t wait to find out. He swerved left at a corridor intersection and put a row of machinery between himself and the aliens. Indicator lights flashed by on each side as he passed between towering devices of unknown function. There seemed to be a grid work of passages intersecting at regular intervals. He took a right at the next intersection, heading again for the far wall. Once there, he hoped that he could find a door panel and manipulate it open. If he could escape this area, his options might improve.

His breath rasped harshly within his helmet as he willed his legs to pump harder. The servo units in his suit lengthened his stride beyond what would have been humanly possible, and he ate up the distance rapidly. Side corridors crossed his path every ten meters or so, and he glanced down them as he ran. At first their shadowy lengths were empty as far as his vision could penetrate. But about half way to the wall he began to catch glimpses of figures running in a corridor parallel to his, pacing him. The creatures’ awkward appearance belied their speed. Their thin limbs, at least half again as long as a man’s, appeared to stride unhurriedly, but they ate up incredible distance nonetheless. Even with his enhanced abilities he could not outrun them.

He turned away from his pursuers at the next intersection, heading in the new direction for a handful of strides, then took another turn back toward the wall. He could see it now, just up ahead, and there appeared to be a door slab set into its surface. He pushed toward it with the cube cradled tightly in his arms.

Suddenly an alien soldier appeared in the corridor junction just ahead. It leveled a long-handled weapon at him, and Ian dropped instinctively to his knees, removing his right hand from the cube long enough to fire an impact grenade down the corridor. Simultaneously the air in front of the creature rippled as its weapon discharged. There was no flash, nothing solid that Ian could see, just a mirage-like distortion of the atmosphere.

A split second later he felt a tingle like an electrical charge as the air just over his head crackled. It was a near miss by the alien, and Ian’s suit partially protected him. Even so, he felt his limbs buckle for an instant, and the helmet’s readouts flickered before steadying. The heads up display showed an intense electromagnetic impulse had passed close to him. A direct hit would probably incapacitate both Ian and his suit hardware.

But a second shot would not be coming from the alien in front of him. As Ian felt the discharge of the E.M. round, his grenade reached his opponent, and it did not miss. The concussion blew a meter-deep crater in the floor and threw bits of the creature in all directions. The blast also caught a second alien soldier which had just appeared in the intersection. By the time Ian regained his feet and began moving forward, the way ahead was cleared.

He reached the wall within fifteen seconds at a full run. Sliding to a stop, he scanned the large rectangular slab which he surmised covered an exit. Its dimensions were impressive, at least four meters high by two wide. Frantically he looked for a control or latch. The only visible marks on the smooth surfaces were three small dark squares set in the wall to the left of the slab. Ian approached and pressed on the lowest one, and nothing happened. He got the same result when punching the second. The top square was barely within his reach, and he extended his hand toward it as he heard the scraping clicks of enemy footsteps drawing near.

He never touched the top panel. When his glove passed in front of its face, the slab began to slide to the right, revealing an opening beyond. Ian didn’t wait for the door to grind its way completely open. As soon as the gap widened enough, he squeezed through and into a broad corridor on the other side.

Glancing left and right in the murky red illumination, he could discern no difference, so he turned right on a whim. As he did so, he caught a glimpse through the open doorway of several aliens rounding a corner into the hallway he had just vacated. They spotted Ian almost immediately and sped toward him. He quickly ducked out of the path of fire and sprinted away down the new corridor. It turned left after thirty meters or so, and Ian took the corner at full speed, bouncing off the outside wall but retaining his feet and his grip on the cube. Another hallway quickly branched off to the right and he followed it, trying to stay out of his pursuers’ line of sight.

A short sprint brought him to an open chamber. It resembled a lounge of some sort, with oddly shaped pieces of furniture and a transparent wall providing his first look at the outside world. As Ian rushed through at a full run, he caught a view of a tumbled landscape crouched under a bloated crimson sun. Twisted tree-like vegetation spread black foliage in the sickly glow, and in the distance he saw impossibly tall towers rearing into the dim sky, their lengths festooned with twinkling lights.

In a flash Ian was through the room and out into the corridor on the other side, running onward as his legs felt like rubber and his lungs burned. Door slabs passed by to the left and right, none of them open. He followed the corridor around two bends, and a high pitched siren began wailing as he approached what appeared to be a dead end.

Ian came to a stop in front of yet another closed door with three squares set into the wall. He quickly passed his hand over the topmost panel, and nothing happened. The other two squares also failed to budge the door, even when he slapped them with his palm.

With a curse he whirled to head back in the other direction. He had moved no more than a few strides before the skeletal figure of an alien soldier rounded the corner ahead of him. Before Ian could free an arm to defend himself, the alien fired its weapon.

An instant later the E.M. charge hit him full on. His suit spasmed, sparks dancing over its surface in a blue halo. Every nerve in Ian’s body burned like fire as his legs buckled and the world toppled sideways. The ground met him hard, and he rolled onto his back, dazed by the impact. Smoke wisped into his helmet and the stink of burned circuitry filled his nostrils. His arms were frozen still gripping the cube. In his weakened state he felt pinned down by its mass, unable to move. Carrying the weight of the universe, he thought feverishly. And I failed them all.

He looked up helplessly as three aliens loomed over him. Their hollow faces were inscrutable, regarding him with pupil-less eyes like ebony pits. One reached down toward the cube, and Ian heard the dry rustle of its limbs, as if no moisture remained in its desiccated frame. It was too late now, he knew, too late to do anything but die. And every living thing in his universe would soon follow him into oblivion.

As the creature extended its clawed hands, Ian felt an odd sensation, his skin suddenly crawling as if spiders scurried up and down his body. He had a second to wonder if it was an after effect of the stun weapon, and then the world around him vanished.

An eternity later Ian sat once more at the conference table at Epsilon Eridani. This time the mood was decidedly different, as the officials and scientists in attendance wore broad smiles. Ian sat through the meeting in a wheelchair. In reality only two days had passed, and he was still recovering from the effects of the alien’s weapon. His mind felt fuzzy as he tried to take in what the others were telling him. The cube rested in the center of the table, its mystery undiminished by the mundane setting.

“So explain that to me again,” Ian said, rubbing his temples. “What did you mean by ‘it inverted’?”

Dr. Cavanaugh cocked her head and replied, “Well, you were holding the cube when we drew you back into our universe. Now it is here, inside our spacetime, which obviously means it can’t contain our reality any longer.”

Ian glanced at the device, with the swirls of galaxies and quasars still glowing within its depths. “Well, if our universe is now outside the cube, then what’s inside?”

The scientist grinned. “The most likely candidate is the spacetime continuum that was in contact with the object when you drew it into our dimension.”

Comprehension dawned, and Ian’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean…the aliens’ universe?” She nodded, still smiling, and he returned her grin as the implications hit him. “So, they’re confined in their own cube, and at our mercy now?”

“Damn right,” General McAllister growled from the head of the table. “We should drain their universe of energy, and see how they like it!”

“That would not be very ethical, considering the billions of innocent beings that probably inhabit their reality,” the doctor chided him. “Besides, we don’t possess the technology to safely draw energy from the object. It will take extensive study to even begin to understand how the cube was constructed.”

Assent was heard from around the table, and the general snorted but held his peace.

“I just want to know one thing,” Ian declared, and all eyes turned toward him. He looked at Dr. Cavanaugh and said, “I wonder exactly how long it will take them to figure out what happened?”

As the doctor returned his gaze, Ian’s serious expression gave way to a smirk. Then they both began to chuckle, and one by one the others around the table joined in. It seemed that things were indeed going to be all right, and this time they truly did have the last laugh.