Echo of Tomorrow: Book Two (The Drake Chronicles) (36 page)

If a computer could be astonished, then Lady Jane was astonished by the sheer volume of material on the subject, referencing medical texts from all over the world, to DNA research, songs, poems, and stories on the subject. Humankind had been doing this for a very long time, she learned, and had amassed a staggering amount of information. Much of it was outdated, wrong, or stupid, according to her reference point of late twenty-fifth-century medical texts. She did however find that some of the present-day information relating to female offspring was much in error, since it asserted that the female of the species was inferior to the male both mentally and physically. That didn’t correlate with past data on the subject. A critical examination of DNA, brain, IQ, and structural analysis showed no significant differences between male and female members of the human race. Lady Jane concluded the difference was cultural, not biological.

That aside, she now had a reference data bank with all pertinent material available, and modified the tonal output signal to put Kat into a deep, relaxing sleep. She tried to talk to the baby, with little success even though her reference material suggested that this was a good idea. The AI didn’t quite resolve itself to the fact that it would be hard for the baby to speak in a liquid medium, even if it did have the necessary vocal apparatus. Being careful of the baby’s fragile biological nature, she tried different frequencies of the electromagnetic spectrum for any sign of brainwave activity, at last finding one at the upper end. Weak and poorly formed, but definitely a signal. She set her internal clock to monitor it from now on, and see how it developed while she began to hum to herself along with the tune, and went back to contemplating the nature of intelligence.

Scott, on the other hand, was working his way down a stack of reports, scanning and absorbing them one after the other until he reached the bottom of the pile. Most were mundane, dealing with training of new recruits, or training schedules, ship repair and production, down to the amount of gold and other precious rare earth metals produced by processing material from the asteroid belt through the solar furnace. He was surprised at the amount, and although most of it went to the corporation that owned the facility, a portion was deducted for ship production and labor, and Alpha base now had a respectable amount on account in the World Bank and their own vaults on the base.

He chuckled to himself over a tongue-in-cheek memo sent to him by one department complaining about the low pay. It suggested that the high command consider adding at least two more zeros to the first, so as to give everyone the feeling they’d had a pay raise. Scott carefully crafted a return memo, pointing out that the high command didn’t think they were getting value for money, and that forthwith all pay would be halved until such time that an increase in productivity was noted. He deliberately sent a copy to all departments, along with a copy of the first memo. Everybody needed a laugh now and then, and this might just do the trick. It might also add to the running joke about taking bets.

Since they had arrived here, no one had to pay for anything they wanted: food, clothing, furniture, food, drink, or entertainment, and since they were now making a profit, he wrote a quick note to finance to pay back the World Council for what they’d spent so far. If peace ever came, his people would want some of the good things in life, and he decided they needed a war chest against that eventuality. In the new society they were creating, no one would go hungry or thirsty, they would never be without a good home to live in, or ever want for medical attention or recognition. Not if he had anything to say about it, that was.

At last he sat back, rubbing his tired eyes and trying to work the headache out of the back of his head. If anything, the headaches were getting worse, yet Doc Chase couldn’t find anything wrong with him, so it had to be stress. He was an admiral without a fleet, as his fleet at the moment was either in the repair yards, or on patrol at the warp point, guarding against the next visit from the aliens. R&D was making progress on a new generation of smart drone to send through the warp point, but that was several months away.

Scott switched the light off and sat in the darkness, letting his mind relax. Something was nagging at him, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t put his finger on it, so he let it go, giving his brain a chance to sort out all the disconnected facts running around inside, hoping that “something” would surface.

* * * * * *

On the other side of the base, Devon walked into the research hangar after changing his clothes as the sign beside the door directed, and looked about him, wondering what was so urgent he had to come down to see.

“Anyone home!” he called, hearing a response from the other end of the hangar. Karl waved and started to walk toward him, and Devon turned and closed the door behind him. Turning back, he jumped as Karl covered the last few feet and held his hand out.

“Good to see you again, Devon, how’ve you been?”

“Busy, and how on earth did you do that?”

“Do what?” Karl asked, suppressing a smile.

“Get from the other end of the hangar to here so fast?”

“I ran,” Karl answered. “But that’s not important, what I want to show you is this.” He pointed to one of the rings. “What do you think of it?”

“Think of what?” Devon asked, puzzled. “It’s a big steel ring. Nice workmanship,” he commented, walking over to feel the outer surface, “but what is it for?”

“Step through and take a look at the other side and you’ll see.”

Devon looked at him at moment, then stepped through, examining the ring as he did. “What is the point— Whoa!” he exclaimed, seeing Karl at the other end of the hangar. “What in the name of … how the hell did you do that?”

“Look through the ring!” Karl yelled, and he did, seeing Karl standing no more than ten feet from him. He stumbled back, then took two steps to the side, seeing Karl at the other end of the hangar. Then he started taking two steps one way, then the other, in a little dance, as if trying to convince himself it wasn’t an optical illusion. Then he started walking toward Karl, until he saw him point at the ring. This time he took a hesitant step through, as if expecting a shock, and walked up to Karl.

“Tell me it’s a trick, an illusion!”

“No, it isn’t,” he answered.

Devon looked at him, then the ring, and walking over examined it carefully, this time walking around the outside. Standing on the other side, he could see Karl clearly, and even stepped though the ring from the opposite side without displacement.

“How far?” he asked, having no need to explain.

“Twenty-five miles at the moment. I wanted to send a pair of rings to the moon as a test, but Scott thought that might be a bad idea with spies still hanging around.”

“I have to get this somewhere I can test it. What about putting it on a shuttlecraft and taking it into space? We could control security that way.”

“Good idea.”

Devon’s excitement soared. “How soon can you have a shuttle ready?”

“In about twenty minutes.”

“Good, good, good,” he exclaimed. “Well don’t just stand there, man, let’s get moving.”

Karl had never seen him this excited, his usual dour expression gone as he rushed around like a small boy, dancing from one foot to the other while they carefully loaded the ring on its jig though the cargo bay door of a large shuttle. The moment it was locked down, he jumped aboard, telling everyone to hurry. Karl sent half the research team with him, as well as four security men in full battle gear and armed to the teeth, all marines from his old unit. He expected Devon to complain, but he didn’t, understanding the reason. He’d also asked and received a flight of star-fighters to act as escort: the possibility of someone trying to grab the shuttle wasn’t out of the question.

“I’ll take it out to moon orbit,” Devon told Karl, “and we’ll start the test from there.”

“Right, but don’t take any chances, all right?”

“I won’t,” he snapped, hitting the hatch control, giving a smile and a wave.

Karl walked slowly back to the hangar, looking up occasionally as the shuttle and its escort climbed into orbit; at last, it vanished into the dark sky. The remainder of the team sat around talking, or listening to the comm unit while the pilot reported his progress. Walking over to the control panel he sat down, looking at the second ring, standing in its jig twenty feet away. Since the first playful games in and out of the rings, the situation had become more serious, and as a precaution they had installed an on/off control. Now you could step either way without anything happening, and the ring was nothing more than an interesting circle of metal. Karl looked at it again, cocking his head, wondering if Teller or Oppenheimer had looked at the A-bomb in a similar fashion. The potential was there, both for good and evil, and in itself, the ring was neither. It was the hand of man that decided what it would become. Teller, Oppenheimer and many others saw the bomb as a way to end the war quickly, and an unlimited source of power, but how did Joseph Stalin see it? As the ultimate weapon of mass destruction that would help him in his quest for world dominance? Or the weapon that would stop him in his quest for power? More than one idiot had looked at it that way.

One thing he did know: the secret of this device must be protected at all costs, and used for the good of mankind, not its enslavement. It was no wonder the corporations were willing to take any measures to get the secret, and he doubted that holding the children of the World Council hostage would stop them in any way. Reaching over, he tapped the comm control, punching up Janet Blake’s code.

“Yes, Karl?” she asked, seeing his face framed on her wrist unit.

“When you get a chance in the near future, can you come over to my location and see me?”

“Sure, I can be over there in an hour.”

“Sounds good, see you then.” He hit the cutoff button and relaxed.

“The shuttle’s in position, Karl!” Kim called out.

“Right, stand by for power on,” he answered, seeing the people step back. It was human nature he supposed, facing the unknown for the first time. “Devon, you with me?”

“Standing by, Karl.”

“On a short count of three then, ready everybody?”

“Ready!” a chorus answered back.

“Three … two … one …” And closing his eyes, he turned the power on. Nothing happened. No glow, hum, bang, nothing.

“Hello Karl, I can see you,” Devon’s voice said, echoing from the comm system a split second later.

Karl opened his eyes, and there was Devon standing in the shuttle bay waving to him. Switching the comm unit off, he stood and walked over, examining the ring just as the others were doing, seeing Devon almost in handshaking distance.

“Pilot, take us out to the orbit of Mars,” Devon called, stepping across the ring. “I need a cup of coffee. Isn’t this exciting?” he asked, walking over to the coffeepot. He seemed unaware that everybody was gaping at him.

“That’s all you can say, you need coffee?” Karl said, totally bemused. “We’re going to put in the history books the first words man said was, ‘I need a cup of coffee’?”

“Pardon?” Devon looked around. “Did you say something?”

“Devon! You just stepped 38,000 miles out in space into a building on Earth, and all you can say is, ‘I need a cup of coffee’?”

Kim laughed. “In a way, it
is
appropriate.”

“It’s not exactly up there with … one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind … is it?” Karl grouched.

“Oh, what did you want me to say, shall I do it again?”

“Forget it. I give up,” Karl muttered, shaking his head.

“All right then …” Devon stepped back into the shuttle. “That tastes good,” he commented, sipping the brew, hearing Karl groan behind him.

The entire team was in stitches of laughter. They managed to settle down after a while and continue work. It was typical that no one had considered the risk of stepping through the rings at that distance.