Severyne and Azad were in the ship’s brig, secure behind a set of bars and an energy field. Severyne sat on a bench, dressed in hideous soft pants and a plain gray shirt. Azad was similarly garbed, but she was shackled by wrists, ankles, and waist to the wall, and wore a metal collar with an ominous blinking red light on the front. Severyne was annoyed that she wasn’t considered enough of a threat to bother restraining so thoroughly.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to kill you,” Azad said.
That was the first time either of them had spoken since being locked up here. Severyne considered ignoring her, but what was the point now? “I am glad I did not have to kill you, too. What is your plan to escape and retake the ship?”
“Oh. Babe. I have no such plan.”
“You escaped a Coalition dreadnought, did you not?”
“They didn’t have me in shackles and a collar that explodes if I leave a ten-meter radius. Sometimes, Sev, you’re just beat.”
“A Letnev never admits defeat.”
“That’s a funny thing about defeat. It’s still defeat, whether you admit it or not.”
Sev considered. “If I can neither escape nor fulfill my mission, I would like to accept your offer to defect to the Federation now.”
Azad chuckled. “My ability to follow through on that deal depends on various factors, like us not being Mentak Coalition prisoners forever, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“I might have bested you, on the lower deck. I found a screwdriver down there. I was not unarmed.”
“Lovers turned deadly enemies, armed with screwdriver and knife, fighting for their mutually exclusive futures in the dark. It’s kinda romantic, in a way.”
“You are a ridiculous person, Amina Azad. If we had not let our personal rivalry distract us, we might have stopped Duval from retaking the ship.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“Perhaps there is a valuable lesson there.”
Amina belched. “Probably. Let me know when you figure out what it is.”
“You disgust me.”
“I love you too, Sev.”
Severyne blushed.
•••
“I mean, I guess, since we’re already here, we might as well let him do his test.” Felix was back in his ready room, because he wasn’t ready to face his defiled cabin.
“You’ve gone this far,” Jhuri said. “No reason to stop here. At least if his device malfunctions horribly, no one is likely to get hurt.”
“Except us.”
“Except you.”
“What if the Creuss show up and declare war on all the biological entities in the galaxy when we switch this thing on?”
“What if the kelp fairy appears and wraps you all in ropes of kelp?”
“Is the kelp fairy even a real thing?” Felix said. “Like from Jol-Nar folklore or something?”
“How should I know?” Jhuri said. “I’ve never been to Jol-Nar. I hate long space voyages. Maybe if you can open a wormhole from my office to Wun-Escha I’ll finally take the trip. I’ll let you get to work.”
“Wait! I wanted to know… What do I do with the prisoners?”
“What prisoners?”
“What do you mean, what prisoners?”
“I mean, I wish the human and the Letnev had died in a dramatic firefight. This whole situation is a potential diplomatic nightmare. A probable Federation operative, and a definite Barony security officer, knowing all the things they know about our own covert activities? I don’t want a whisper of either one on the official record.”
“Then what should I do with them?”
“What should you do with who? Let me know how the test goes.” Jhuri flickered and vanished.
OK. Severyne and Azad were a problem for later. Other problems came first.
•••
“I’m ready,” Thales said simply. Thales, Felix, Tib, and Calred – who’d shuttled over from the Grim Countenance – stood together on the bridge. The huge viewscreen showed the expanse of empty space before them.
Thales had his torpedo-shaped device resting on top of a workstation, attached to the stolen power supply, and wired into the ship’s weapons systems – he’d be using some of the focused energy weapons to direct the force he was about to unleash. “We’ll open the wormhole, and then launch a probe into it,” he said. “I have programmed the other end of the wormhole to open a safe distance from the wasteland world Xanhact – the probe should be able to confirm that location from the configuration of stars, and return to us with data on the journey.”
“Oh, good,” Calred said. “I was afraid you’d want us to drive into the wormhole to test it.”
“I’d love to jettison all of you into space,” Thales said. “All this pointless to-ing and fro-ing and fighting and stealing you’ve dragged me through. I understand I’m valuable, but this inter-faction squabbling has been a grievous distraction.” Thales gazed at the empty screen. “Would you transmit an image of this screen to the brig, captain?”
“What? Why?”
“So Dampierre and Azad can witness my triumph.”
Felix scratched his chin. “Huh. I’m not opposed to a little gloating, I guess, but why do you care?”
“I want more witnesses, captain,” Thales said. “More eyes on the moment I transformed the galaxy. More voices to tell the tale of this achievement.”
Felix sighed. “Cal, go ahead and give the brig a screen. I don’t need them on comms, though. I’ve heard enough out of both of them.”
Thales cleared his throat. “I’ve prepared a few words for this occasion–”
“I’ve heard enough out of you, too,” Felix said. “Just push the button, Thales.”
The scientist glared at him. “This is history happening, right now, you ignorant thug. The occasion must be marked–”
“I promise we’ll make sure the official records reflect whatever long speech you wanted to give, Thales. Let’s just get this over with.”
“We’re not getting anything over with. This is a glorious beginning–”
“Shut up, or I’ll push the button,” Tib said.
“It’s not a button,” Thales muttered, but he turned his attention to his terminal. The power cell began to emit a faint hum. They all looked at the screen expectantly.
“Shouldn’t beams of coruscating light be shooting from the cannons?” Calred asked.
“The energies involved aren’t visible.” Thales spoke through gritted teeth. “Don’t ruin my enjoyment of this moment.”
They watched, and nothing happened… until something started to happen.
At first, Felix thought it was just his eyes inventing things, an optical illusion caused by staring too long at emptiness, but there was a flicker, like a snake slithering through the grass, only the snake was space-time and the grass was more space-time. Thales made more adjustments to his terminal, and a sinuous bright line appeared, gleaming yellow like a thread of gold. “Pretty, isn’t it? That’s the sort of visual the idiot masses will appreciate when they watch this recording in their classrooms for all time going forward.”
“I’m sure they’ll appreciate being called idiots, too.”
“You already said you’re going to manipulate the record. I can say what I please.”
“That doesn’t look much like a wormhole,” Calred pointed out. The golden thread rippled. “I’ve been through a few wormholes in my time. They’re big, bulgy, and round. Not a wavy line, golden or otherwise.”
“I’m still adjusting the calibration,” Thales complained. “Give me a moment. Altering the fundamental physics of the universe doesn’t happen in an instant.”
“I always thought going through a wormhole was like passing through a giant water droplet,” Tib said. “You know, the way it shimmers a little, and you can faintly see what’s on the other side.”
“I never understood why they call them ‘holes’ at all,” Felix said. “They’re more like… crystal balls.”
“Because ‘wormballs’ sounds disgusting,” Tib said.
“Fools,” Thales muttered, still adjusting his controls. “If space were two-dimensional, then yes, wormholes would appear as circles punched in the surface of space. Passing through those circles would lead to a three-dimensional shape, a cylinder, and you would emerge from another flat circle on the other side. But space isn’t two-dimensional, so instead we perceive wormholes as three-dimensional spheres, and they lead to a four-dimensional space that your minds can’t visualize, until you emerge from another sphere.”
“That is not a sphere,” Calred said. “It’s more like a rip. A tear in a piece of cloth.” The gold thread widened, becoming a ribbon of uneven width, and the light became less yellow and more white.
Thales grunted. “I would expect it to start coalescing into a sphere by now.”
“Do we need to abort the experiment?” Felix said.
“Of course not,” Thales barked. “I think I see the problem. The other end of my wormhole isn’t where it should be. Damn it. These readings about the far end of the wormhole are just gibberish. The other side must have opened in the Shaleri Passage – that’s the only place I know of where normal physics are twisted, and it’s where the Creuss live, so they must be meddling, trying to ruin my triumph!”
“You think the Ghosts are doing this?” Felix demanded.
“They must be. There’s no other explanation. It’s called deductive reasoning, captain.”
“So, what, the Creuss are going to come out of that hole?”
“That tear,” Calred said.
“I am trying to determine–” Thales said.
The light brightened, and suddenly the ribbon became a yawning chasm, a ragged tear big enough to swallow their ship.
Felix scrabbled for the device, but Thales hunched over it, blocking him with his body. “Turn this thing off, Thales!” Felix shouted.
“No, I can get control back, I just need to boost the power.” Thales twisted the controls, glaring out the viewport at the shimmer in space. “This is my moment – I won’t let some aliens who don’t even have bodies spoil it.”
“We’re going to get murdered by the Ghosts of Creuss,” Tib said. “You find such interesting ways for us to die, Felix.”
The power source started humming much more loudly, and – was the spherical case vibrating? “There!” Thales said. “The connection is stable! It – no, that still doesn’t make any sense. Why isn’t the wormhole opening where I told it to?”
“Why is it a gash?” Felix said. “What the hell did you do, Thales?”
The tear in space widened before them, and beyond it, something moved. Colors flickered in there, like aurora, but there were other things, too. Writhing things. Felix thought of maggots in rotting meat. Of baby spiders bursting out of a wound. Of worms wriggling up out of a wet hole.
“Send the probe,” Thales said.
“Why?” Felix said. “That’s not Xanhact through there! It’s not even a wormhole!”
“Maybe artificial wormholes present themselves differently!” Thales said. “Send the probe!”
Felix caught Calred’s eye, shrugged, and nodded. Calred operated the panel at the security station, and a small gleaming sphere studded with sensors burst out of the ship and sailed toward the rift.
They watched the probe get closer and closer to the chasm – and then tendrils of coruscating darkness lashed out of the rift, grabbed the probe, and pulled it in.
“What,” Thales said flatly. “What are you getting from the probe?”
“It’s just throwing error codes,” Cal said.
“Is that the Shaleri Passage on the other side?” Felix said. “Damn it, Thales, did we just shoot a Coalition probe at the Creuss?”
“I… I don’t think…”
“Look,” Tib said. “There’s something in the crack. A shape, a structure, I can’t quite make it out, it’s–”
Felix heard a whimper. He realized a second later it had come from his own throat.
There was something inside the crack. Felix had no sense of scale, so he couldn’t tell how big the thing was – the size of a starship, the size of a star, bigger. He just knew, whatever size it was, it was impossible.
The thing beyond the crack in space was a burning wheel, facing them side-on, slowly rotating, flickering with a corona of white fire. The spokes of the wheel seemed to be made of yellowed, splintered bone. The rim of the wheel was an immense red serpent, devouring its own tail. The hub of the wheel was an open, bleeding eye.
The eye stared at them. The eye saw them. More tendrils began to reach out of the rift, this time, toward the Temerarious.