Gold watched, in a detached way, as Carol Abramowitz and Bart Faulwell entered the bridge and stopped dead in their tracks. Abramowitz’s mouth might just have fit a half-dozen tribbles. He’d called her to the bridge to be present when they had their next run-in with Third Councilman Sha’a. She must have been with Faulwell, who had tagged along, no doubt feeling useless in a crisis with no call for his particular skills in cryptography or symbolic analysis.
Abramowitz, however, was still in her element, as Gold wanted backup from the ship’s cultural specialist in his next dealings with the Resaurians. He had no doubt he’d be hearing from the councilman soon enough, providing that the da Vinci crawled back from the brink of the Demon’s event horizon. The Dutiful Burden doggedly maintained its tractor lock, though it trailed the da Vinci’s fall by several hundred kilometers. Pointless, as both vessels were caught in the inexorable grip of the Demon.
He had another reason for wanting Abramowitz on the bridge, though he’d never admit to it. She was a good barometer and adviser for situations where his bridge crew would be too by-the-book and an engineer would simply default into technical jargon. There were times, Gold had seen, when being a scientist robbed one of the ability to simply sit back and observe the beauty or terror unfolding around you.
Gravimetric waves increased in frequency and strength the farther in they fell, rocking the ship with more fervor. Gold had become so used to the turbulence he’d almost forgotten about it, but not even a drunk Klingon could ignore the thrumming vibrations that rang through the whole vessel. And the farther they fell, the slower the ship moved as more and more power was dedicated to the structural integrity field. Each gravimetric wave had to be registered on sensors, and the ship maneuvered in this high-gravity soup to take the brunt along solid shield facings.
“Wong, how are we doing?”
“If Tev’s numbers are correct, we’ll be transversing the photon sphere in moments.” All eyes fixed on the main viewscreen.
The da Vinci crawled forward at a bare kilometer per minute. And that was still far too fast. They watched as a perfectly round hole sliced through the very fabric of existence, tunneling into…nothing. Even in the farthest depths of the quadrant Gold had found existence. Comets. Nebulae. Protomatter. Ejected coronas of supernovas. Even space dust. Though much of the matter could be clocked at millions and at times billions of years old, it still existed. This, however, could only be called the antithesis of what life meant. No, Gold corrected himself. Not just life—too narrow a definition. Existence itself.
Gold knew his wife would chide him that God made everything. However, if He’d made black holes, they were the largest drains in existence, where He flushed anything He no longer needed.
Like Gold’s crew, if they were not careful.
The ship continued its descent. The forward viewscreen showed absolute darkness, as though the ship were nudging into the universe’s largest tar pit. Only one where the dinosaurs were still alive somewhere in its depths and their angry kicks sent crushing ripples expanding out in every direction.
“Sidescreen.” If the front showed nothing, he wanted to see what they were passing through. Abramowitz gasped and Gold himself felt tingles rippling along his skin and setting his fingertips afire.
The universe had begun to crush itself. God’s drain, no doubt about it. And at the bottom, the universe’s trash compactor. The ultimate plunger rammed and thudded against existence, squishing the universe down into a thin band. What had once been the visible universe in front of them, now stretched in a concentric circle perpendicular to the orientation of the da Vinci. Not just the visible universe in front, but from behind them as well.
Einstein Rings. The words rang in Gold’s head and he chased after it, latching on to it with all his might. That’s what Tev had called them in a meeting that had occurred in another life.
Glancing over at Abramowitz, he could see the fear, naked on her face, a fear to match his own. Here they were, peeling back the very fabric of reality to show the skeletal underpinnings, and everyone immediately backpedaled in fear. Too awesome. Too grand. Too terrible. Too…simply too.
Perhaps all scientists, regardless of their outward façades, or their intellect, when they brushed up against such terrible magnificence, had to take refuge in their science. In their words and their calculations and their theories, or they’d simply collapse in fright.
Another sickening swaying lurch of the ship and the wonders of the universe continued to unfold. A second ring. Now a third. Gold had heard numerous accounts of bubble universes and other dimensions. He’d even spoken with respected, trusted comrades who had such experiences, and yet he’d never really been able to bring himself to believe.
Now, as he witnessed not simply the compacting of the universe, but its very replication as easy as one-two-three, he believed.
“Captain, there’s another ship following us in.”
“That’s the Dutiful Burden.”
Wong checked his readings one more time and then turned to look at Gold over his shoulder. “No, Captain. There is another ship besides the Dutiful Burden.”
“What? Center the viewscreen on that location.” The forward screen changed to show a familiar-looking vessel at some distance.
“Magnify.” The screen zoomed forward several times, and Carol’s was not the only gasp.
The da Vinci floated before their eyes.
* * *
“What’s going on? That can’t be right.”
“Of course it can,” Tev said.
Everyone looked toward him and for just a moment he felt irritated. Had they not been at the briefing? Did all humans have such short-term memory?
He snuffled. “We are passing through the photon sphere. The very name should explain what we’re witnessing.” He paused and another wave of irritation swept through, like the gravimetric waves that continued to increase in severity and duration, at their blank faces.
“Light. The photon sphere is the distance above the event horizon when the force of the black hole’s gravity bends light into a perfect circumference. Our ship is sensing our ship; the forward sensors are picking up the visible light bent around the perimeter of the black hole, showing us the rear of our own vessel. If you stood outside at this moment, you’d look forward and only see the back of your head.” A look of strangeness glazed most of the bridge crew’s faces.
The ghost-image of the da Vinci disappeared. The stars continued to be eaten up from beneath by the encroaching black.
“Aft screen,” Gold ordered. His voice was solid.
The screen switched viewpoints. Above them, the visible universe filled a shrinking hole, with outer darkness stretching across the da Vinci’s side and in front. Tev turned back to his sensors.
Magnificent.
Most of the bridge crew only attempted to assimilate this experience with the weakest sensory input at their disposal. Vision would never scratch the surface of what he experienced. Looking down at several monitors, he could see the full glory.
The gravimetric waves were pulled in from every direction, across unimaginable distances, to crash and thrash. He normally did not give in to such imagery, but Tev admitted that the rage of lines on his monitor reminded him of nothing so much as living tentacles, thrashing, stretching, attempting in a futile frenzy to save themselves from the inevitable plunge into the event horizon.
Another screen glowed almost incandescent with a fountain of energy that shot millions of miles out into space from the direction of the black hole, cascading out in every direction. Hawking radiation blazed as though it desired to create a sun to compensate for the destruction occurring on such a fantastic level.
Yet another screen showed the Einstein Rings, along with measurements depicting how much relative time occurred outside the photon sphere, compared with their current position; at each forward movement, the time dilation increased.
Commander Gomez would appreciate the mathematical perfection of this event.
That last thought troubled him for a moment. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and felt the pull of his uniform across his chest. Tev didn’t like emotions and thoughts he could not pinpoint. After a moment, however, it became painfully obvious. His irritation at the crew had nothing to do with their inability to grasp the splendor around them. Of course they’d be unable to. What irritated him was that he wished Commander Gomez were here. Not simply so that he could impress her, to show that “this” is what he’d done for her lately. No, he simply wished to share this moment with an equal.
He startled. An equal.
Bartholomew Faulwell slipped up near Tev. “I wish there was something I could do,” he said.
Tev nodded. He had found himself thinking along similar lines in the last few hours, and he didn’t like the feeling of that one bit. “You shouldn’t be on the bridge,” he said, but low.
“Yes. That’s likely true.” He was also just as obviously waiting for Tev to order him away.
Tev shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other. He honestly did not want Bartholomew to leave. At the last few briefings, Bartholomew was the only crew member to actively press for Tev’s friendship. Most of the crew did not seem to know how to approach the Tellarite, and Tev was equally stymied when it came to social relations. He wished Gomez were here as an equal. Bartholomew should be allowed to stay as a possible friend.
“If you are going to stay,” Tev said, never taking his eyes from the screen, “you might find me one of those apple rancher candies you seem to enjoy carrying about.”
Bartholomew smiled, reached into a pocket, and pulled out two twists of clear cellophane. Inside was a hard, green candy. He set one carefully on the edge of Tev’s panel, where the Tellarite could reach it when he wanted, when he could. He unwrapped the other for himself.
Tev reached for the candy, but then stopped when a screen lit with red tones and an incessant beeping warned of a drastic change in status. Tev’s mammoth eyebrows rose alarmingly.
“Captain?”
“Yes, Tev?” His voiced sounded as though he were not really paying attention; the Demon simply held too much power. That would change fast.
“The Resaurian vessel has unlatched its tractor beam from the da Vinci.”
“Why is that a problem?”
“Because it’s latched on to the gravity anchor.” Tev looked up to find Gold’s full attention focused on him.
“But that means—”
He nodded. Why did events conspire against his every plan? “The anchor will self-destruct even faster.”
Faulwell paled. The cryptographer shook his head in denial. “But…but do they realize that?” It was a good question, and Captain Gold nodded that Tev should answer.
“I do not know.”
“They just might,” Abramowitz said. Tev looked to find the cultural specialist’s composure had returned. Only a slight wildness to the eyes indicated she stood on the bridge of a ship inside the photon sphere of a black hole.
“Remember how traditionalist they are. From what you told me, Captain, it looked as though this Captain S’linth may have been deposed by the councilman and the overseer.” Another wave caused everyone to stumble. Abramowitz grabbed on to a seat and immediately continued.
“With such a desire to keep this knowledge from the general populace, they might just sacrifice the entire space station, perhaps themselves as well, to see that secret kept. How many centuries have they kept it till now? Quite easy to take it to the next level.”
Tev hated it when politics intruded upon the beauty of his scientific universe, but he could not fault Abramowitz’s logic. It made all too much sense.
“Tev, how quickly will we reach the station?” Gold said.
“Not quickly enough, Captain.” He turned to verify with his monitor, his hands grasping the edge of the monitor as though he could pressure it into giving a different answer. Commander Gomez was on that ship.
“Wong, ahead one-half impulse.”
“Captain!” Tev interrupted, rising to his feet in alarm. “You cannot do that.”
Gold turned stormy eyes on Tev; one did not countermand the captain’s orders.
“The gravimetric waves are too strong. Right now, at a quarter impulse, we are pushing the limits of our shields.” Tev thought furiously, trying to find an analogue the captain would understand. “Imagine a boat pushing full forward through a heavy water storm. The hull would smash into the wall of the waves, instead of flowing with the movement; the hull will shatter.”
Gold continued to stare angrily at him for a moment and then shook his head. “Then we’ve lost.”
“No. I believe there is a way we can actually reach the station even faster. However, there is inherent risk—not as much as pushing forward with impulse engines, but more than what we risk now.”
Gold chuckled and leaned back in his seat. How had he amused the captain?
“Tev, we’re in a black hole. Everything we do is a risk. What is it?”
“Currently we are using the impulse engines to move forward, but it also keeps us at a set speed; a velocity we can manipulate. If we cast ourselves adrift, we will ride the gravimetric waves. This will create a jarring ride, but one that we should survive. One that should get us to the station before the gravity anchor disintegrates.”
“Flotsam, eh?” Gold said. He looked speculative for a moment and then nodded his head. “After everything we’ve done, this is no crazier. Wong, I believe you heard the man.”
“Yes, sir. And, Captain—I never thought I’d be trying to grab a good wave with a starship.”