Demosthenes, Alkeides System
The development of the second test bridge forge did not generate the same curiosity as the first, so when the forge was accidentally launched, only Thecla, Vang and Retha were there to see it.
Sang had pushed on with the project with Thecla, while the people who worked with them waxed and waned as their interest levels did. Sometimes, Sang asked directly for help, if someone had expertise they needed. Mostly it was he and Thecla doing the work.
Sang didn’t mind the isolation. It was more efficient not having someone peering over his shoulder. Thecla liked to work hard and valued silence as much as he did.
Sang was running a series of on-off trials to establish how long the bridge would hold before venting the charge via lightning and destroying the forge. Each time he reset the forge, he let it run longer, monitoring the buildup of the charge.
In between, he and Thecla tweaked settings and other variables, to see if the charge build up could be delayed. They didn’t let a bridge form. Instead, they let the generator wind itself up.
When it happened, Sang had no warning. He reset the forge, reset the timer and glanced at Thecla to see if she was ready, then fired it up.
The forge made a different sound, this time. It was a busy hum, rather than the overstressed whining of previous trials.
Sang stared at the forge. So did Thecla. “Something’s different,” she said.
An ellipsoid shape formed in the air just in front of the bench. It was two meters tall and a meter across at the widest point.
“That’s the landing deck!” Thecla said. “Look, there’s Vang and Retha. Firing range practice again. That kid never stops.”
“Did you set the forge to generate?” Sang asked, frowning down at it.
“No. Look, Sang! It’s a working bridge! Man-sized!”
Sang glanced up. The bridge was big enough to step through. “How did the coordinate get changed?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Thecla said impatiently. “Can they hear us?”
“Probably not,” Sang said.
“Get their attention somehow. Wave at them,” Thecla said.
“Why?” He was genuinely puzzled.
“Because it’s working!”
“Barely working,” Sang said. “Listen, the overload is building up again.”
The hum was growing louder.
Thecla groped for the pelota ball they had put to one side for future trials. It was to replace the makeup box Hero had offered the first time. Before Sang could protest, she tossed the ball through the opening.
Immediately the humming dropped down to a quiet murmur.
Sang looked at the forge, astonished.
“Watch!” Thecla urged, drawing his attention back to the bridge.
He looked up again. The ball had shot through the bridge and now was bouncing along the deck. The bounces grew smaller, then it rolled between Vang and Retha, who were studying their targets.
Retha pointed at the ball. Both of them turned.
Thecla waved, laughing.
Vang holstered the ghostmaker he was using, scooped up the ball and spoke to Retha.
“Sound can’t pass through,” Sang observed. “A solid object can. Vibrational frequency is filtered, then.”
“How do communications feeds pass through?” Thecla demanded. “They’re light and sound.”
“Light and sound packaged in a physical form,” Sang reminded her. “Interstellar signals are converted to charged particles before they’re sent.”
Thecla beckoned to Vang. “Toss the ball back!”
“He can’t hear you,” Sang pointed out.
Vang was considering the bridge, his head slightly to one side. He touched the middle of his chest, then pointed to the bridge.
“No!” Sang said urgently. He stepped around the bench so Vang could see him more clearly and shook his head. “We have no idea what happens if you try to come through the wrong way.”
Vang’s eyes narrowed. He nodded, as if he had heard. His mouth moved as he spoke to Retha, squeezing the pelota ball.
The forge’s humming sound grew louder.
Thecla grabbed one of the multi-tools and tossed it through.
Immediately, the hum dropped to a soft murmur once more.
“If you don’t use it, it blows a gasket,” she said. Then she grinned. “Use it or lose it.”
Vang picked up the tool and hefted it and the pelota ball. He moved around the bridge and disappeared from view.
“He’s bringing them back the long way,” Sang said, relief touching him. “Good.”
The hum of the forge was starting to increase again.
“Are you timing that?” Thecla asked.
He was a perfect timekeeping instrument and had no need for external tools. “I am,” he confirmed.
Retha looked at them and shrugged. What now?
As the hum increased, Thecla cast about for another object to toss.
Sang picked up a fragment of purified carbyne. He tossed the heavy angled pebble through.
The hum dropped once more, this time below audible levels. He frowned.
“The carbyne makes a difference,” Thecla said. “The lack of a charge, you suppose?”
“It must be,” Sang said slowly.
This time, it took more than ninety seconds for the forge to wind itself up to full charge once more.
Sang waited until it was just below the discharge point, then tossed a larger fragment through.
The hum stopped once more.
Retha watched the tests with an amused expression. He picked up the bigger chunk of carbyne and weighed it in his hand, showing surprise at the weight of it.
They tossed three more pieces through before Vang arrived. Retha gathered them into a small pile. Vang dumped the pelota ball and the multi-tool on the bench and waved at Retha.
The forge was humming again. Thecla grabbed the pelota ball and tossed it through. It bounced once, then hit the pile of carbyne fragments and bounced again, this time back toward the bridge.
Retha leapt and grabbed it. His hand connected with the edge of the bridge. There was a shower of sparks and Retha stumbled backward.
“No!” Vang cried.
Retha dropped to the ground and writhed, his body vibrating.
“He’s seizing!” Thecla yelled.
Vang lunged forward, to help Retha. He stepped through the bridge…
…toppled to the deck floor and lay still.
Thecla cried out a wordless protest.
Sang switched off the forge and the view of the deck and the two bodies disappeared. “Hurry,” he said and ran for the landing deck, five levels below.
* * * * *
Bellona was running by the time she reached the medbay. Not that her panic was noticed, amongst the hysteria already there.
There were a dozen people standing around the treatment bed where Vang lay. They were shouting at each other. There were more than a few of Amilcare’s people there, too.
“Diagnostics, first!” Thecla yelled.
“Listen to the AI!” Hero spat. “The diagnostics show nothing!”
“Someone get his heart moving,” said someone else.
“No, no, he needs oxygen, first!”
Sang was standing by one of the recovery beds, a small island of calm. Retha lay on the bed, on his side. His eyes were closed, the bruises from long term sleep deprivation stark against his white face.
Bellona moved over to the opposite side of the bed and looked at Sang. “Fontana said Vang was dead.” She kept her voice down.
Sang let out a heavy breath and nodded, his gaze flickering to the group clustered around the treatment bed. “He stepped through the bridge. It depleted every charge in his body. He was dead the moment he emerged.” His eyes met Bellona’s. “That’s why the diagnostic aren’t working. That’s why they won’t revive him, no matter what they do.”
“This isn’t your fault,” she said firmly.
“Yes, it is,” Sang replied. He looked down at Retha. “Retha suffered a seizure just from touching the thing.”
“He’ll recover?”
“Only to learn that Vang is dead.”
Bellona squeezed his arm.
“Help me! Help! I’m all alone. I can’t find Khalil!”
The shouting in her ear made Bellona cry out and clap her hand to her ear. She tottered, her balance thrown by the volume.
Fontana and Thecla both mimicked her, staggering away from the treatment table, their hands to their ears.
“Connie,” Bellona said. “Quietly, girl. Calmly. What has happened?”
Sang’s gaze became unfocused. “Where are you, Connie?” he said firmly. “Report.”
“He didn’t come back, it’s been twelve hours and thirteen minutes and forty-three seconds and he’s not back!”
Bellona swallowed. “Where are you, Connie? We’ll come and get you. You just have to tell us where you are.”
“I’m on the landing field! They’re all mean here. They won’t help me. They don’t believe me that anything is wrong. He wouldn’t just not come back. He doesn’t do that. Something’s wrong, oh, something is so, so wrong!”
Fontana moved closer to the bed, his hand still over his ear, even though it didn’t muffled the sound at all. “Can you get a direction from the communications channel?” he asked Sang quietly.
Sang nodded. “Working on it.”
Bellona held her hand, gesturing for calm, even though Connie couldn’t see it. “Connie, stop this. Right now! Pull yourself together! We can’t help you if you don’t make sense. Remember your function. Report your status.”
Connie was silent for ten long seconds. Then she said in a softer voice: “Khalil told me he was doing the rounds. Drinking.”
“Shipper bars,” Thecla murmured, from behind Bellona.
“He said he would be late. He didn’t say how late he would be, but he has never been gone this long and not let me know why. The city mind won’t let me search for him—it says I’m not a priority. Only I know something has happened.”
“Where are you, Connie?” Bellona asked. There were only a few free worlds who had the necessary infrastructure to host an AI with the capacity to manage a whole city.
Connie gave a little sound that might have been a hiccup or a sob. “Cerce City,” she said softly. “Will you come and get me?” she asked. “Please? I’m frightened!”
Fontana rolled his eyes. “I’ll come in the Alyard and bring you back home, Connie,” he told her. He glanced at Bellona and lifted a brow.
She nodded. He could take the ship. Of course he could.
“I’m leaving now,” Fontana said, moving toward the door.
“Me, too,” Thecla said. “I know shipper bars,” she told Fontana.
By the time they reached the door, they were running, too.
Hero was still working with the AI on the treatment bed. The hysteria had subsided as the minutes piled up. They sensed now what Sang had known immediately. Vang was dead.
Bellona moved over to the bed and everyone made room for her.
Hero looked at Bellona. She gnawed at her bottom lip. “I don’t know what to do,” she said brokenly.
“There is nothing you can do,” Bellona said, speaking loudly enough for all of them to hear. “He is beyond recovery. The most skilled medic in the known worlds could do nothing for him.”
The faces turned toward her, with their fear and their upset, were a condemnation.
“Bellona! Enemies in the area! Get to the bridge!” It was Thecla’s voice in her ear, using Connie’s communications channel.
Bellona whirled, putting her back to everyone. “How can that be?” she demanded. “The proximity alarms haven’t sounded.”
“They emerged from null space right in front of the Alyard, a light year out from your position. They’re coming, Bellona. A Karassian first class destroyer and an Eriuman cruiser. Should we open fire?”
“On a carrier?” Bellona said. “Are you crazy?”
“She is. I am not,” Fontana said, his voice calm. “We have the element of surprise,” he added.
“No. Go to Cerce. Find Connie and find out what happened to Khalil.”
“That leaves you without a ship,” Fontana pointed out.
“We’ll manage,” Bellona told him. “Go. Now.”
“Going,” Thecla said.
Bellona turned back to face the medbay once more. “Emergency,” she said loudly. “We have enemies on our doorstep. To the bridge. Everyone. Now!”
She ran for the bridge and heard the thunder of many steps behind her, echoing along the short corridor to the bridge. As on the Alyard, the medical bay on Demosthenes was located next to the bridge.
“Sang, get the Demos moving. Every positioning thruster that works,” Bellona yelled as they spilled into the empty bridge. “Aideen, talk to the null-space AI. Set up a jump.”
“To where?” Aideen asked.
“Anywhere. A random location. As random and unexpected as you can. Put us in the middle of nowhere. Hero, get on the scanners. Where are those ships?”
Even though no one had assigned posts on the bridge, the eighteen or so people who flowed into the room all settled behind stations and at consoles without bickering or chaos and started working.
Hero bent over the surveillance table. “Three-quarters of a light year from here. Two of them,” she said. “Eriuman and Karassian…” She straightened, shocked, looking at Bellona.
Everyone else paused to look at her, too.
“I don’t have answers yet,” Bellona told them. “We can’t win against a carrier, not with a Karassian destroyer ready to pounce, too. No one could. We’re jumping out of here as soon as we’ve overcome inertia and Aideen has the null engines ready.”
“Forty-three seconds,” Aideen said.
“How did they even know we were here?” Amilcare demanded as he tapped the dashboard in front of him with a heavy hand.
“There are dozens of ways they could have found us if they were looking for us,” Bellona told him. “I’m more interested in knowing why they suddenly decided to look for us.”
“They’ll be in ether range in twenty seconds,” someone called.
“I imagine we’ll have some answers then,” Bellona said. She made herself sit in the oversized, overstuffed captain’s chair, even though she disliked the way she sank into it.
“In range,” the same person called out. “…and broadcasting,” they added.
“Let everyone see it,” Bellona said. “One-way only. We play dead until the last moment.”
The big central screen came to life.
The admiral on the screen was a woman and Bellona recognized her face. “That’s Admiral Lucretia Eucleides.”
Eucleides didn’t respond, because she couldn’t see or hear Bellona. Instead, she spoke calmly.
“This is to whoever is listening on the Aarens. I speak on behalf of the Alliance. You are in violation of Alliance space. Prepare to be boarded.”
Bellona sucked in a breath.
“What the hell is the Alliance?” Hero said.
“The Homogeny and the Republic are working together,” Aideen said.
Hero scowled at her. “Why would they even consider working together?”
Bellona swallowed. “It can’t be official. We would have heard the proclamation on thousands of feeds.”
Amilcare leaned on his station, to twist to look at her. “So the admiral and whoever the fuck is on the Karassian destroyer just woke up one morning and said ‘I know, I’ll hunt down Xenia and her people today and I’ll ask my good old enemy the Karassians to help me, because they’ll trip over themselves to do that?’”
“How long until they’re in firing range?” Bellona asked.
“Ten seconds.”
“Aideen?” Bellona said.
“Thirteen.”
“We’re going to take a hit or two before we can jump,” Bellona warned them. “Alert the rest of the ship…although I think everyone who didn’t go on the Alyard is already here.”
“Just about,” Hayes said. He was perched on the second’s stool at the communications console, next to Zeni, who was running the console with a competent air. Hayes made Zeni look even more delicate than usual. “I am telling everyone,” Hayes added.
“Five seconds.”
“Six seconds,” Aideen added immediately.
Bellona realized she was pushing herself deeper into the chair, leaning away from the coming impact.
The center screen had gone to black. On Bellona’s arm-console, Eucleides reappeared. This time, the screen split. The captain of the Karassian ship was a stranger to Bellona. The man standing behind his shoulder wasn’t.
“Woodrow,” she breathed.
Eucleides repeated her warning. The Karassian captain added at the end of it, “We will fire immediately if you do not signal you are standing down.”
“They know who is here,” Bellona said to herself, for everyone else was busy. “They came for me. Who sent them, though?”
“Incoming!”
She reared back, gripping the edges of the chair.
There was no explosive sound. The point of impact was somewhere out of hearing range. She could feel the floor rumbling beneath the chair. Screens and consoles flickered.
“Go as soon as you can, Aideen!” Bellona cried.
“We’re not moving fast enough yet,” Aideen replied.
“Sang!”
“The inertia is considerable, with a vessel this size,” he said, as calm as Aideen. “We are also inside a gravity well that we must overcome.”
“Shoot garbage out the airlock if that will help,” Bellona told him. “Just get us moving! Damage report, anyone!”
“Someone on the landing deck says the fighters slid into one corner,” Zeni said. “I don’t think there’s anyone anywhere else to report.”
Another hit. This time, Bellona could hear the bone-deep boom.
She gritted her teeth together. There was nothing to do but wait it out.
“Jumping!” Aideen called, as the ship lurched and shivered.
The images of Eucleides and the Karassian captain dissolved. They were replaced by a generic star field she did not know. Bellona looked up. “Where are we?”
“Nowhere, as requested,” Aideen said.
Sang sat back, blowing out a breath.
“Sang, are we still moving?” Bellona asked.
He bent to look at the console. “Yes. Three meters a second.”
“Keep us moving,” she told him. “Demosthenes will never stop, ever again. Bring it down to just above jumping speed, so we’re always ready.”
“Is that wise?” Aideen asked. “If we keep moving, we’ll starting running into things.”
“In about a hundred and fifty years, maybe,” Bellona replied. “A gradual course correction will take care of that, too. Sang, you and Aideen work with the navigation AI to set up algorithms that will keep Demos moving through nothing. And Sang…”
“Yes?”
“You’ll have to let the Alyard know where we are. Make sure that message is sealed in a bomb-proof communications bullet. Now we’re where no one can trip over us, I’d like to keep it that way for a while.”
She got to her feet. “Everyone else, fan out over the Demos. Check for damage, fix what you can and clean up. Any questions, check with Sang or table it for later. All clear?”
Silence.
Bellona nodded. “I’ll be in my quarters.”