Exodus: Empires at War: Book 11: Day of Infamy (Exodus: Empires at War.) (4 page)

“I am not, Director.  And
if you think about it for a moment, it will make sense to you as well.  Her
faction believes they can go back in time and destroy the Cacas before they
ever became a power, and therefore rescue humankind from what history has
wrought.”

“But, everyone born since
the coming of the Cacas will cease to exist.  The Empire will cease to exist. 
Her people would erase trillions from the timeline, including themselves.”

“The crazy fools think it
worth the sacrifice, and they don’t care who doesn’t agree.  Anyone not on
their side is against them, including the Imperial family.”

“You mean?”

“They, along with a party
whose origins are unknown to them as well, think it is worth it, that humankind
will experience a golden age of expansion.”

“My parents.  My
grandparents.  All of our ancestors, wiped from history.  It must not be.”

Angel could tell that
Sergiov was horrified.  That was the emotion he had wanted her to take from
this com.  Now, if she could only spark the same feelings in the Emperor.

“I’m going now.  I
predict you will locate my first relay at any moment, and then it will only be
a matter of seconds before you start the trace.”

“Wait,” shouted Sergiov,
but Angel had already severed the connection.  His car ejected the com box into
the sky, where it fell apart on the way to the ground, disassembled by its
internal nanites.

They will have some kind
of plan to get the resources they need, whether from the Emperor, or from some
other source
,
he thought as the car left the pattern and headed out of the city, changing its
transponder code several times along the way.  He didn’t have any love for the
Cacas, and wished them hell and fire.  But he also had no wish to have never
existed himself.  That was something that his ego could not stand.

*     *     *

“Do you believe him
Director?  I mean, Admiral.”

Sean still had trouble
remembering some of the new titles his people sported.  Ekaterina Sergiov had
been the Director of the Imperial Intelligence Agency, the primary civilian spy
agency for the Imperial Government.  She had served under his father for almost
two decades.  Sean had decided on advice from his cabinet to link all of his
intelligence agencies under one administration, to make sure that all necessary
information got to where it needed to be.  So Sergiov had been given the nod. 
And the rank of a four star full admiral, so she would be able to command
military operatives.

“I don’t know, your
Majesty.  He sure seemed to believe it.  Voice stress analysis implies
truthfulness.  But then again, he is a psychopath, and the same rules don’t always
apply.”

“It sounds so
unbelievable,” said Sean, hoping that it was all just fiction.  “Time travel? 
Is it even possible?”

The Emperor knew that
many of the species that had occupied this region when the humans showed up
certainly believed it was possible.  All had their stories of the Ancients, the
technologically superior beings that had ruled this space and bootstrapped so
many other species out of their stone ages.  It had been said that they had
experimented with wormholes, then with time travel, going back into the past to
right the wrongs other beings had suffered.  With disastrous results.  There
were eighty-three confirmed nebula in the region that had been formed by stars
too small to go supernova blowing up anyway.  There were many theories about
that phenomena, including mystic interpretations that the Universe would not
tolerate a paradox and had struck back, to the more scientific explanation of
space compression waves causing a spike in fusion.  And when the humans had
started building the
Donut,
over a hundred years ago, many of the
governments in the region had issued dire warning that the Ancients had once
built such a station, and it had destroyed them.

“We have nothing on
record to suggest that it’s possible, or impossible for that matter, your
Majesty.  At the moment I would just have to say that we don’t know.”

“Well, at least they
don’t have any wormholes to experiment with,” said Sean, waiting for the
agreement from his Spy Master.  None was coming, and he felt hollow in the pit
of his stomach.  “They don’t have any, do they?”

“Well, your Majesty, I,
er, have to admit that we are missing four wormhole pairs.”

“And how in the hell did
that happen, Admiral?” shouted Sean, his temper spiking.

“It happened before I was
given my current position, your Majesty,” stammered the woman.  She breathed
out a sigh, obviously calming herself.  “No excuses.  I did not realize they
were missing until I ordered a complete scan of the records.  Someone had
appropriated the four under a shipping order that specified a Fleet
experimental station, for top secret testing.  Those wormholes never made it
there, though information was placed in the system indicating that they had.”

“Just wonderful,” growled
Sean, jumping up from his seat, the cat on his lap jumping off at the last
moment, its hind claws digging in and wounding the tops of his thighs.  He
glared at the cat for a moment, which showed good judgement by running out of
the room.  “So, parties unknown have four of our wormholes.  And from what we
can gather, wormholes are needed for time travel.  But how in the hell would
they use them to go back in time?”

“I have no idea, your
Majesty.  There are some hints in the research literature, but nothing
definite.”

“Hold on, Ekaterina,”
said Sean in his best attempt of the moment at a calm voice.  He sat back in
his chair and sent an order over his implant into the com system.  It took a
minute or so for the person at the end of that request to answer, time in which
he hoped his intelligence director was sweating. 
I really can’t blame her
for something Naval Intelligence should have been on, and before her watch. 
Someone else needs to be crucified for this, and at least this will make her
and the people she drags over the coals more alert in the future.

“You Majesty,” said a
voice over the com, as a second holo opened in the air over his desk, showing
the face of Lucille Yu.  The woman was obviously just out of bed, fatigue in
her eyes.

“Sorry to get you up,
Lucille.  But we have a bit of a problem here.  Admiral Sergiov is also on the
com, and I’ll let her explain the problem.”

Sergiov rushed the story,
hurriedly filling in details as she went.  Yu’s face went from disbelief to
horror during the monologue.

“Is it possible, Director
Yu?” asked Sergiov, her tone hopeful that she would get a negative answer.

“Oh, it’s possible,” said
Yu in a hushed voice.  “We actually had a man lecturing at the
Donut
some
months ago about time travel.  He was requesting a wormhole to use to test his
theories.  When I checked out his theory, it turned out to be nonsense.”

“Well that’s a relief,”
said Sergiov.

“Not so fast, Admiral.  I
dug a little deeper, and found that Dr. Kenji Guatarrez was a highly respected
physicist with Imperial University, who had published several papers on
alternate dimensions, including one he surmised moved in the opposite temporal
direction from ours.”

“And that means?” asked
Sean, his forehead furrowing in thought.

“That there was a
possibility of another dimension in which time moves in the opposite
direction.  If you were in that dimension, considering its suitability for
supporting life, you couldn’t tell the difference, since to the occupant of
that dimension time would seem to flow on the proper path.  But if you returned
to our dimension you would find yourself in the past.”

“How far?” asked Sean,
the sinking feeling growing.

“It depends on several
variables.  The correspondence of the passage of time in each dimension.  One
second to one second, or an hour or year for each second.  And of course, how
long you spent there.”

“And you say this Dr.
Guatarrez was lecturing on the
Donut
.  Did he go back to the Imperial
University? And to which branch?”

“Some operatives from
Naval Intelligence took custody of him right after I shut him down for
lecturing on a forbidden topic.  I would have to assume that he is in Fleet
custody, or had been and has since been released.”

“We have no record of
this Dr. Guatarrez being taken into custody by Naval Intelligence,” said
Sergiov.  “No record of interrogation or incarceration.  And several months ago
a missing person’s report was filed by the Imperial University Capitulum’s
physics department, and by the good doctor’s wife.”

“This is damned
peculiar,” said Sean, shooing away the recalcitrant cat that was walking back
into the room, a plaintive meow coming from its mouth.  “We need to find this
man, as soon as possible.  Before he and the people who took him can do too
much damage to the time line.”

“How much could they do?”
asked Ekaterina, again the hopeful note in her voice.  She was not destined to
get any hope from this conversation, thought the Emperor.

“It depends on how far
back they go?” said Lucille.  “If they go back far enough they could disrupt
the entire time line, erase everything we know of today.”

“Get your best people on
it, Ekaterina.  No matter what you need to do, find him.  And make sure some of
the Imperial Judges know that we may need warrants at a moment’s notice, and
what is at stake.  Or at least as much as I’m willing to tell them.”

“I would like to put
Angel Martinez on this, your Majesty.”

“The assassin?  The one
who was going to kill her Majesty and myself?”  Sean felt the anger rising
again, forcing it back, knowing that he needed to keep a clear head here and
make good decisions untouched by emotions.

“He has the Underworld
contacts that we don’t have.  And I wouldn’t be surprised if these people are
somehow tied in with the Underworld.  If just to get what they need outside of
official channels.”

Sean thought for a
moment, reasoning past his emotions.  The man could have killed he and his
wife, but had hesitated until the opportunity was past.  Men like him didn’t
hesitate without reason.

“Very well, Admiral. 
Recruit him for this mission.  Offer him full amnesty for all crimes, past and
present, if he succeeds in giving us information that leads to our finding Dr.
Guatarrez and the people who have taken him.”

“I want to say one more
thing, your Majesty,” said Yu as soon as Sergiov had dropped off the com.  “And
please don’t take it the wrong way.”

Sean nodded, and waited
for what the woman was about to drop on him.

“As tempting as it may be
to mess around with the time line, as satisfying as it might be to go back in
time and put it to the Cacas, saving humanity for all time, you must resist
that temptation.  It is most likely to result in a disaster.”

“Don’t worry, Director. 
I doubt there is anything that would make me want to tread that path.”

Chapter Three

If a man consults whether he is to fight, when he
has the power in his own hands, it is certain that his opinion is against
fighting. Horatio Nelson

IMPERIAL SPACE.  DECEMBER 1
^ST
, 1002. 
D-31

They picked up the
approaching scout pair well outside the range of normal commercial sensors. 
The Captain watched his crew closely to make sure no one gave away the game as
they watched the two destroyers coming toward them.  But his crew did as they
had been trained to do, making the ship appear to be a harmless merchantman on
its way to deliver a cargo.

“What do we have?” asked
the Overlord, the large Ca’cadasan male who was on the ship with a trio of his
fellows to make sure the humans did as they had been ordered.

Bastard
, thought the Captain. 
He and his people were loyal members of the Empire, and the Masters had no
cause to treat them as unreliable.

“We have a pair of
destroyers on approach, my Lord,” he forced himself to say in a subservient
tone.  “They don’t appear to be adjusting their course.”

The destroyers forged on
in hyper VI, moving at point nine light.  If they had been planning to match
vectors they would have already started to change their courses.

“We’re receiving a signal
from a ship identifying itself as the
Roger Corman
,” reported the Com
Tech.  “They’re asking us to verify our identification signal.”

“Send them the
information,” ordered the Captain, watching the ships closely on the plot.  If
everything went well the destroyers would fly past them and continue on to
wherever they were going.   If they grew suspicious they would have a two
minute window to savage the freighter with their lasers.  They would not have
as much luck as they thought, but they would still be within missile range. 
And there were two of them.

The Captain looked back
at the Overlord, watching as the male set his jaw. 
So, he’s nervous as
well, though he wouldn’t let such feelings show to such an inferior species as
ourselves.

“The destroyer is asking
for visual.”

The Captain stepped over
so the Ca’cadasan wouldn’t be in the image.  “Open visual.”

“This is Commander
Leticia Romero of the
Corman
,” said the olive skinned young woman on the
holo.  “Your name, destination and business please.”

“This is Captain Tom
Jasper. 
Laughing Troll
is on a course for the Jewel system.  We are
empty at the moment, but have been promised a cargo at the Capital planet.”

That was something easy
to fake at this time.  Since the start of war, the amount of traffic into most
of the core worlds had tripled.  It would be believable enough that a tramp
would be heading into one of the busiest systems in the Empire looking for a
cargo.

Some moments passed as
the image of the Captain of the destroyer looked off holo.  The crew sweated,
waiting for the decision.  The Captain prepared himself to order the deployment
of the weapons systems.  He thought he could take two destroyers, but it wasn’t
a given.  Even if he won the fight,
Fool’s Bane
could get savaged.

“Fool’s Bane. 
You are cleared to
proceed.”

“Thank you, Commander
Romero,” said the Captain, trying not to let his relief show on his face.  He
wondered how much their clearance had to do with no suspicion on the part of
the Imperial officer, and how much on they were just in a hurry to get to where
they were going, and didn’t want to waste the time decelerating and coming back
for something that wasn’t that suspicious.

The holo blanked, and the
Captain turned to stare at the tactical plot as the destroyers first drew even
with his ship and then passed.  It took almost twenty minutes for them to
disappear from the plot, out of sensor range, and that was when the Captain
allowed himself to breathe easy again.

“Good job, Captain,” said
the Overlord, giving a head motion of acceptance.  “Continue your course.  I
will be in my quarters.”  With that the male turned and left.

He wants to spend as
little time as possible with the lower species
, thought the Captain
with a huff.  He glared at the closing hatch of the bridge, then turned back to
look at the plot, zooming out to see the entire course.  He wished he could
take full advantage of his ship’s capabilities and bound ahead to point nine
five light, but he didn’t want to take the chance, the Overlord present or
not.  To his thinking, the sooner he could get to the target and get the
mission over with, the better.  He amended that thought after a moment,
remembering that this mission was likely to be at the end of a one-way trip.

*     *     *

ELYSIUM EMPIRE HOME WORLD, DECEMBER 3
^RD
,
1002.

“Welcome, Lord Grarakakak,”
said Archduke Horatio Alexanderopolis. Meeting the slender avian being in the
study outside his office.  “And to what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?”

Alexanderopolis was a
stocky man of middle age, just over a hundred and eighty, and had been the
Ambassador to the older Empire for more than two decades.  In that time he had
become one of the few humans who was actually fluent in the tongue of the
dominant Brakakak, a series of crackles, hisses and whistles that were
difficult for the human language producing apparatus to reproduce.  The
Ambassador had found it very useful to understand the cultures of the people he
had to deal with, including the language.

“I wish to speak in
private, Ambassador,” replied the High Lord in his own language.  Grarakakak
could also speak fluent terranglo, but their game was whoever started the
conversation in the other’s language directed the speech to that tongue.

Horatio nodded, gesturing
toward the bar.  He understood what the leader of the Empire was talking
about.  Despite all the high tech safeguards used for personal government
communications, people still tapped into top secret communications.

Horatio mixed drinks for
the both of them.  The High Lord loved human bourbon.  In fact, it was one of
the biggest exports from the New Terran Empire to Elysium.

“What’s on your mind,
High Lord?” asked the Ambassador, handing the Brakakak lord his drink, then
taking a seat across the table from the avian.

The slender graceful
being took a sip of his drink, his flexible beak opening and closing in
pleasure as he placed the glass on the side table.  “Nectar of the Gods,” said
the High Lord.  He leaned forward in the seat that hadn’t exactly been built
with his people in mind.  “There will be a vote in council tomorrow about the
war, your Excellency.”

“So I have heard,”
replied Horatio, placing his own drink on a side table lest he spill it on
himself if the coming news was too disturbing.

“The vote will go against
the war,” said the High Lord, giving a very human head shake.  “I have one vote
on my side, but the other three are adamant about leaving the war.”

“But, why?” asked
Horatio, thinking now that putting his drink down had been a good idea. 
“Surely they understand the threat.”

The High Lord looked
embarrassed, sitting there in silence for a moment.  Horatio knew that the
Brakakak were the dominant species of the Empire.  They were on the average the
more intelligent of the species, and their culture the far superior.  They made
up almost thirty-five percent of the population, by far the largest
proportion.  But the Empire’s government was built around the concept of
representation for all species.  There were five seats on the supreme council,
and each went to a member of the five most representative species.  There was a
lower council that actually made the laws, also in proportion to the percentage
of the population each species commanded.  The Brakakak were the largest
percentage by far, the next most numerous species only commanding twenty-one
percent of the seats.  Unfortunately, the Brakakak did not command a majority
in either the upper or lower councils.  If they did not make deals with other
species, basically nothing got done in the Empire.

“I think most of them
understand the threat,” said the High Lord, looking away for a moment, then
back into the eyes of the human he called friend.   “But some of them also feel
that your Empire will become just as big a threat in the future, after this
current war is over.”

“We have never been
expansionist,” said Horatio, knowing that what he said was not quite true.  The
early Empire was very much an expansionist state, even when they didn’t plan to
be.  Wars were fought, new territories were acquired, sometimes by accident,
sometimes to prevent a species that saw itself as the injured party from rising
again to threaten humanity.  “At least in recent history.”

“The Lasharans might not
agree with that statement,” said the High Lord, giving his species’ equivalent
of a frown.  “But I have to agree that your Empire has shown remarkable
restraint over the last couple of centuries.  Not everyone in my government
agrees.  They think you are spending the lives of our people so that you don’t
have to lose your own.  They feel you will weaken our forces, then use your
enlarged military to conquer.”

“And what can we do to
change their minds?”

“I’m not sure we can
change their minds.  But some concessions might help.”

And here we go
, thought the
Ambassador.  “Like what?”

“There is much concern
about your wormhole technology, as well as your other methods of instantaneous
communications.”

“We share our com net
with your forces.”

“Yes, by placing your
ships with our task groups, and allowing us to talk through your com net.  Some
of the leaders in our military feel this gives you the ability to censor our
communications.  Even if you are not doing that now, it gives you the ability
to do so.”

“We have reopened a com
and passenger gate into this system, High Lord.  And what about the ship gate
between your largest shipyard and the
Donut
system?”

“Some would argue that
this serves only your Empire.”

“So giving your military
some of their own wormholes would change the vote?”

“It would help, but maybe
not enough.  I realize you are stretched thin, and we could not expect being
equipped with wormholes to the same extent as your own fleet.  But at least one
on every task group command ship.  And some of your instantaneous com
specialists on flagships down to the squadron level, if not individual
vessels.”

“I cannot guarantee that
we will give you what you want.  That’s up to the Emperor, and might be
something better left for the upcoming summit.”

“I understand that,
Ambassador,” said the High Lord, his expression showing embarrassment. 
“However, if we vote tomorrow to withdraw our forces, then they will be
withdrawn until at least the summit, if not beyond.”

“I don’t think the
Emperor is going to like this, Lord Grarakakak.”

“And I am sorry that your
leader will not like a decision our sovereign government makes.”

“And I thought you were
on our side.”

“Oh, I am, Ambassador.  I
want you to win this war.  I want your Empire to go on being good neighbors
with my people.  I definitely don’t always agree with my own government, but I
am charged with being the face of that government, and must bring their
concerns and decisions to you.”

“Okay.  I will let the
Emperor know what your fellow Lords require for continued cooperation.  I’m not
sure what he will be able to do, since he must also work through Parliament.”

“And we both know that he
has a lot more power to do what he wants in wartime.”

Horatio nodded.  The High
Lord knew of what he spoke.  There were checks and balances in the Imperial
government, and the power of the Emperor was limited, except during war.  Then
he became the ultimate power in the Empire, though he still had some
limitations.

“Anything else?”

“We would also like a
discussion about giving us some of your wormhole weapon systems on the table. 
Oh, not the actual hardware, except for some examples we can use to engineer
our own.  And the plans and schematics of the technology.”

And that will go over
really well with Parliament,
thought the Ambassador, shaking his head. 
There’ll
likely be some heart attacks when they hear this.

“I’ll talk to the Emperor
and see what we can do.  You understand that the Klassekians have an agreement
with our government to serve in our military.  They would have to volunteer to
do the same with yours.”

“I understand.  Hopefully
we can work something out.”

Good thing we’re not
expecting an attack anytime soon
, thought the Ambassador as he led the High Lord
out of the sitting room.  Of course, this was war, so the unexpected happened
all the time.