Fall of Icarus (37 page)

           
“You know what?” Dr. Birand said slowly.
 
“I’m sure the technical aspects of this are boring.
 
I think this would just be easier if I demonstrated it for you.”

           
Moving to the rear table, Birand picked up a handheld console and began typing feverishly.
 
Around the pedestal, the wires began to glow as electricity coursed through them, powering an unseen engine within the center of the cocoon of wiring.
 
The noise built until it filled the room and drowned out the muttering of the still skeptical audience members.
 
From the side of the pedestal, a small two-prong fork emerged from the wires.
 
Between its metal prongs, red electricity arced wildly, rolling from the base of the fork to its tips before sputtering out into the air above.
 
Yen could feel the hairs on his neck stand on
end
as the entire room seemed charged both with tension and with an unknown energy.
 
He leaned forward, mocking the moves of Adam and Penchant beside him.
 
The entire room seemed to be leaning forward in anticipation, suddenly sharing the doctor’s enthusiasm.

           
Don’t screw up, not this time
.
 
The alien thought leapt to the forefront of the doctor’s mind, stated over and over in a confident mantra that belied the doctor’s seemingly innocuous personality.
 
Something about the project scared the man to death and Yen was suddenly very worried about the outcome of this experiment.

           
Before Yen had time to probe further, a crack split the air.
 
A shockwave fell over the crowd, throwing them back into their seats.
 
Wind whipped Yen’s hair into his face and, as he brushed it aside, his eyes fell on the center of the stage.
 
Hovering above the split fork, a red whirlpool had formed.
 
Its tapered end disappeared only a few inches beyond the event horizon and pointed toward the empty table across the stage.
 
Just over the rushing roar of air being pulled into the wormhole, Yen could make out the doctor’s gleeful laughter.
 

           
Stepping forward, the doctor stood behind the pedestal, just a few feet away from the angry, red wormhole.
 
It flickered as though alive and aware of the scientist’s presence.
 
Yen could see the air pulling at the doctor’s laboratory coat, drawing it closer to the event horizon.
 
The doctor didn’t seem to notice as he reached out and nudged the glass cylinder toward the glowing red disk, hovering in the air.
 
As the cylinder drew near, Yen could see the forces pulling it into the wormhole.
 
It teetered momentarily, as though unsure whether or not to enter, before the suction of the event horizon pulled the cylinder inward.

           
From Yen’s point of view, he couldn’t see the object as it entered the wormhole, nor as it was stretched into the finite funnel.
 
He strained to see anything in the air that might betray the destruction of the object or its obliteration in the heart of the wormhole, but he could see nothing.
 
A commotion drew Yen’s attention away from the hovering wormhole.
 
Adam pointed across Yen’s body, toward the previously empty table on the far side of the stage.
 
Following his gaze, Yen saw the completely intact cylinder resting unassumingly on the table, as though it had been there all along.

           
A hush fell over the crowd as they watched Dr. Birand reach over and throw a switch, effectively shutting off the power to the wormhole.
 
The red circle shimmered unstably before dissipating into the air.
 
Yen looked back and forth from the cylinder to the cocoon of wiring around the pedestal.

           
“And this technology,” Yen said, sitting upright in his chair.
 
“It will safely get us past the satellite grid around Earth?
 
We’ll be able to warp a Cruiser right past their satellites and into their atmosphere?”

           
“Not quite,” Birand stammered.
 
“The technology hasn’t been perfected for moving so great a mass as a Cruiser.
 
However, while repairs were being made on the
Revolution
, many of your
Cair
and
Duun
ships were outfitted with the new warp engines.
 
You’ll be able to fly the smaller transports safely past the Terran defenses.”

           
Yen frowned, not convinced.
 
He kept remembering the distorted images that had flashed through the doctor’s mind just before activating the warp engine.
 
Yen was sure that he and the doctor had differing definitions of the word “safely”.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

           
“Why are you doing this to me?” Keryn bemoaned.
 
“This isn’t fair!”

           
“This isn’t about equality and fairness,” the elder Wyndgaart of the High Council said, his voice coming from the speakers within the furnished crew compartment of the transport ship.
 
“This is about you finding Cardax and locating out the information we seek.
 
The Oterian is a threat that must be eliminated before he can do any more harm.”

           
Keryn crossed her arms and sulked, leaning back heavily against the upholstered chair.
 
“You’ve just told me that we’re going to attack Earth, one of the greatest assaults that will ever be recorded in history.
 
But instead of me leading my Squadron, you’re asking me to give that up to pursue some Oterian smuggler?
 
I don’t give a damn about this Cardax person or what he knows.
 
I care about my team and I want to stay in command.
 
I want to lead my Squadron during the assault!”

           
“This isn’t about what you want, Commander Riddell,” the Oterian Councilmember interceded.
 
“You have repeatedly reiterated that you are genuinely concerned about your pilots and members of your Squadron.
 
You act as though your concern for the Fleet is your top priority.”

           
“That is my priority,” Keryn replied curtly.

           
“You watched the
Vindicator
be destroyed, did you not?” the Avalon Councilmember interrupted, her musical voice soothing Keryn’s raw nerves.
 
“The Terran Fleet used rockets filled with the same Deplitoxide that Cardax sold them.
 
It ruined the engines and left them helpless to the Terran attack.
 
Thousands of Alliance crew, pilots, and soldiers died in that attack.
 
Cardax will not stop, and neither will the Empire.
 
If we do not find this smuggler, thousands more will die from his betrayal.”

           
Keryn ground her teeth together.
 
She understood the concept of betrayal.
 
It was the same emotion she felt burning inside her.
 
There had never been a time when Keryn had not strove to be the best.
 
Now, she was watching the culmination of all her hard work disappearing as she was stripped of her command in order to lead a different mission.
 
Looking at the console’s monitor, she stared into the eyes of the wizened Councilmembers, sitting around the semi-circle table.
 
Their stern visages let her know that she truly did not have an option of whether or not to accept her new mission.
 
Against her better judgment, Keryn knew that defying the will of the High Council simply wasn’t a choice she could make.

           
Sighing, Keryn responded.
 
“Explain the mission to me again.”

           
“Interrogations of the surviving Terrans revealed the startling information,” the Lithid Councilmember answered in a gravelly voice.
 
“Nearly a year ago, the Oterian smuggler named Cardax had a fairly insignificant organization, mainly moving equipment, supplies, and weapons around the Demilitarized Zone.
 
His operation was supplying armaments to dissidents living around or on the contested planets.
 
Though he ran a fairly small organization, his group grew in popularity almost overnight after he began advertising a new chemical weapon.
 
The weapon, the same Deplitoxide that was used against us, brought him too far into the spotlight for him to continue working in the shadows.”

           
“Once we were aware of his operation,” the elder Pilgrim continued, “we had no choice but to send a team after him.
 
If half of what he claimed was true, then the Deplitoxide was too dangerous to remain on the open market.
 
Unfortunately, Cardax discovered our plans before we had a chance to apprehend him.
 
He fled, hiding among his clientele and remaining off our radar.
 
We continued to pursue him, but to no avail.”

           
Keryn furrowed her brow in confusion.
 
“If that’s the case, then how did the Terran Empire wind up with the Deplitoxide?”

           
“Cardax became careless,” the Uligart responded.
 
“In his overzealousness to elude capture by Alliance forces, he was driven too far into the Demilitarized Zone.
 
A Terran patrol came upon his ship and captured him.
 
For the next few months,
Cardax was tortured by the Terrans
while the small samples of Deplitoxide were examined by a Terran scientist named Doctor Solomon.
 
In the end, the Empire realized the limitless potential of the chemical and demanded more from Cardax.
 
In a moment of cowardice, Cardax agreed to become the supplier for the Terran Empire.”

           
“The Terrans have made Cardax both very wealthy and very dangerous,” the Wyndgaart said.
 
“He is openly supplying the Empire with Deplitoxide now, though neither the Empire nor the Alliance knows his source for the unusual chemical.
 
We would require you to discover the source by any means necessary.”

           
“What is this Deplitoxide?” Keryn asked, feeling the weight of helplessness settling over her.

           
“We were able to analyze some of the chemical that was retrieved from the captured Terran Destroyer, though there was too little to do any in depth research,” the Lithid explained.
 
“It’s an organic compound that absorbs large amounts of heat.
 
The individual cell membranes allow heat to be trapped within its nucleus and, as a result, created a thick, black byproduct.
 
The internal heat also causes cellular mitosis, resulting in an exponentially expanding number of the organic cells.”

           
Keryn remembered the engines on the
Vindicator
sputtering and dying.
 
“So fire a rocket full of this Deplitoxide into a plasma engine, and these little buggers won’t quit multiplying until they’ve absorbed all the fuel cells?”

           
“A crude but effective description,” the Avalon replied.

           
Clenching her fists, Keryn looked away from the monitor.
 
She felt split, her anger focused on two separate targets.
 
On one hand, she hated being used.
 
The High Council knew her skills would be invaluable against the Earth defenses.
 
But instead of leading her Squadron, she’d be relegated to a lesser mission.
 
She felt as though, inadvertently, she had done something wrong; that she had somehow wronged the High Council and this was her punishment.
 
Cardax, however, infuriated Keryn.
 
Not only was he a traitor to his own kind, to all of the Alliance, he was also directly responsible for the destruction of the
Vindicator
.
 
The buckling hull and the screams of the dying that had echoed across her radio channel had haunted Keryn ever since.
 
If there was a way to bring retribution for all their deaths, Keryn wanted to be the harbinger of his death.