Hidden Empire (4 page)
H
alfway across the Spiral Arm, another green priest waited with six Hansa technicians in a small scout ship in a stable spot
beyond the gravitational pull of the neutron star.
The superdense stellar remnant was all that remained of a collapsed red giant that had run out of momentum and mass before
it could become a black hole. Curling space with its powerful gravity, the neutron star rotated like a searchlight, jets of
high-energy particles spraying from its poles like water from a fire hose. Such a tiny ball, less than ten kilometers across,
yet with a celestial powerhouse of energy.
Crowded in the ship, the six techs were nervous and sweating. The tethered torpedo device had been deployed outside the ship,
just waiting to drop into the crushed star’s gravitational mouth. The techs stared at Arcas, as if the green priest could
ease their fears or offer them some sort of shortcut.
“Time?” one asked, as if pleading.
The treeling beside him had not yet spoken. Arcas sighed. “I will tell you as soon as I hear.”
Before long, he would return to Theroc, where the priests would give him some other duty to serve the worldforest. It was
all the same to Arcas, though he had chosen this assignment—far away, and involving relatively few people. As a green priest,
he could do nothing else. He was a loner, but he was also a green priest, linked with the forest. If only he could trade with
someone who felt more devotion for the task.
He clenched the treeling’s rough bark, but felt no incoming telink message. Nothing. More waiting. “Not yet.”
Aboard the cold scout ship, the spaces were too confined, the walls too bare. The stored air tasted of processing filters,
with none of the moist richness he was accustomed to breathing in the dense forests. Yet, even on Theroc Arcas felt none of
the passion that most green priests did. He might have chosen another life entirely, but now his skin bore the green tinge
of symbiosis, a subcutaneous algae that allowed him to photosynthesize bright light. The process was irreversible, and he
would always remain linked to the worldforest, even if being a green priest was not what he truly wanted.
Arcas had become an acolyte to honor a deathbed promise to his father, rather than out of his own interests. Green priests
were in such demand that even a mediocre one such as Arcas could choose from innumerable offers of employment. On Theroc,
the elder green priests helped to make such decisions, and Father Idriss and Mother Alexa interacted with the Hansa. But each
green priest—even Arcas—could tap into the overall forest mind and make his or her own choices. Among the numerous offers,
opulent positions, important diplomatic and liaison posts, Arcas most wanted to be away from all the bustle. He had chosen
to be here in this isolated station.
“Time?” another tech said, sounding even more anxious. “Why are they waiting so long?”
After communing through telink, Arcas refocused on the eager technicians. “They say they are ready at Oncier. You may launch
the probe now.”
Working with machinery incomprehensible to the green priest, the Hansa techs scrambled to release the tether and activate
the Klikiss wormhole-generating device. The probe separated from the scout ship and accelerated toward the neutron star, picking
up speed as it coasted down the steep space-time slope.
The technicians cheered when the anchor point was established close to the beacon of the neutron star. They read off results
in a breathless hurry because they didn’t know how long the torpedo device could remain in position against the furious gravitational
tug-of-war.
Arcas watched, filing away images to transmit back to the worldtrees and all the other green priests. The trees were more
interested than he was.
“Activate!” said the head technician.
The torpedo device used ancient Klikiss technology to distort, ripple, and then tear a yawning hole in the fabric of space.
The maw of the wormhole tunnel was wide enough to engulf the superdense star.
Arcas muttered to the treeling, describing every step of the process—until even he became speechless as the new wormhole literally
swallowed the blazing neutron star, like a pebble falling down a drain.
The torpedo generator gave out, its energy exhausted, and the wormhole slammed shut, sealing space-time without leaving a
mark in the emptiness that had held the exotic celestial object.
“There. It is done.” Arcas looked to the technicians, who began to cheer wildly.
The gauzy remains of the gaseous accretion cloud drifted away like wispy scarves, no longer held in place by chains of gravity.
Like a bomb of unimaginable magnitude, the neutron star hurtled toward Oncier.
L
ouis adeptly jostled the other observers so he and Margaret could get a ringside seat for the planetary implosion. Basil Wenceslas
stood beside them. “We’ll know within moments,” he said. “The green priest says the wormhole has opened on the other side.
The neutron star is on its way.”
Dr. Serizawa, his bald head slick with perspiration, looked from the observation window to the recorders and interviewers.
“The receiving end of the wormhole is anchored at the gas giant’s core. When the superdense star hits Oncier, it’ll be the
most titanic burst of energy mankind has ever unleashed.” Then he added quickly, gesturing again, “But don’t worry, it’ll
take hours for the shock wave to travel through the layers of the atmosphere. We’re far enough from Oncier that we’ll suffer
no effects.”
The incredible mass of the neutron star arrived at the gas giant’s metallic core like a cannonball, adding enough mass and
energy for ignition. Serizawa saw the readings and cheered. Sunken probe buoys sent pressure, temperature, and photonic readings,
displayed as violently jumping patterns on the screens. His technicians waved their hands in triumph. Though Oncier’s outer
skin remained as calm and placid as before, titanic changes were convulsing through the innermost layers. Basil Wenceslas
applauded, and the dignitaries followed suit.
“The neutron star is much tinier, but vastly denser, like a diamond inside a marshmallow. Even now, Oncier’s material is falling
inward.” Serizawa looked at his readings, then at his chronometer. “Within an hour at most, it will achieve the density necessary
to begin hydrogen fusion, the energy-transport process used in any normal star.”
Margaret squinted at the spherical fingerpainting that was a soon-to-be sun, yet Oncier was so huge that although the neutron
star had slammed into the core, she could see no immediate change. Markers and detectors had been deployed at various cloud
layers, where they would sense the shockwave of outrushing radiation.
Margaret leaned forward to kiss Louis’s weathered cheek. “We did it, old man.” The two archaeologists had done their work
at the beginning; now they could sit back and watch the end results. Cosmic chaos was even now occurring in the depths.
“So, Doctor, just adding all that weight is enough to start the planet burning?” asked a media rep standing behind her.
Serizawa replied, “Actually, it’s mass, not weight. But no matter. You see, the sudden transfer of the neutron star to the
planetary interior gives it an immediate negative energy—potential energy, actually. To obey conservation laws, a huge influx
of kinetic energy is required, which appears through wormhole thermodynamics as heat.
That
touches off the reactions to inflate the gas giant into a burning star. It will happen in a snap.” His eyes flickered. “Well,
within a few days, but you have to put everything in perspective.”
Normally, heat transport in a star was incredibly slow. Photons took a thousand years to radiate in a drunkard’s walk outward
from the core to the surface, impacting with gas molecules along the way, being absorbed and then re-emitted to collide with
another gas atom.
“Oh, just watch,” Serizawa said, “and you’ll see what I mean.”
The fascination of the news media waned within a few hours. The changes were slow, although the gigantic ball was indeed imploding.
Detectors deep within the atmosphere showed the nuclear fires spreading outward like a tidal wave. When the wave reached the
planetary surface, Oncier would begin to shine like a lightbulb.
The first flickers of lightning and fire began to show through gaps in storm systems. Pastel discolorations swirled about,
displaying titanic upheavals deep below. Margaret’s translation of Klikiss records had led to this spectacular event, but
she didn’t know whether to be proud or horrified at what she saw.
The Ildiran septa acknowledged the success of the Klikiss Torch. Dressed in formal uniform, the alien Adar Kori’nh shuttled
over to the observation platform to watch the continuing stellar collapse. Margaret met the Adar with curiosity and trepidation,
having never before spoken to an Ildiran.
“Your command of English is excellent, Adar. I wish I had such proficiency in languages,” Margaret said.
“All Ildirans are bound by a common speech, but those of us likely to encounter humans have learned your common trade language.
The Mage-Imperator requests it of us.”
Taking advantage of the listener, Louis talked at great length with Kori’nh, describing their work on the Klikiss planets.
“The Ildiran Empire has been in existence far longer than humans have explored space, Adar. Why is it then that your people
have not sent prospectors or archaeologists to learn of this vanished race? Are you not curious?”
Kori’nh looked at him as if the question were disconcertingly strange. “Ildirans do not send out solo explorers. When we dispatch
a colony of settlers, called a ‘splinter,’ it is a group large enough to continue our society. Solitude is a human trait that
we find difficult to comprehend. I would never choose to be so far from other members of my race.”
“My wife likes to be alone so much she often prefers to be in a different section of a dig even from myself.” Louis smiled
over at Margaret.
Embarrassed, she gave him a slight nod. “I believe, Louis, that Ildirans all share a faint telepathic link that binds them
together. Not as a hive mind, but as a support system. Isn’t that true, General?”
“We call it
thism,”
Kori’nh said, “and it radiates from our Mage-Imperator. He is the knot that binds the threads of our race. If any individual
strays too far from the others, that thread might snap. Perhaps humans see traveling alone as an advantage. Conversely, I
pity your race for not living within the safety net of the
thism.”
Kori’nh bowed, his expression unreadable.
A scattered murmur of surprised conversation drew them back to the window. A bright plume bubbled up from Oncier like a geyser
of superheated gas. The event was unusual, though as it faded, so did the audience’s interest. Within an hour, Margaret was
the only one watching through the broad window. She found the roiling fury of Oncier hypnotic. The planet glowed now, spreading
photons around the still-imploding world.
She stared at the planet’s bright limb, a hazy curve against the backdrop of space opposite from the Ildiran warliners and
the observation platform. Suddenly, several incredibly fast spherical objects streaked out like shotgun pellets. They emerged
from deep within Oncier’s clouds and soared off into open space. Within seconds, the dwindling dots disappeared into the distance.
Margaret gasped, but no one near her had seen the apparition. It couldn’t possibly be a natural phenomenon… but how could
it be anything else?
She turned, alarmed and confused. Louis was still involved in conversation with Adar Kori’nh and Basil Wenceslas, discussing
details of their upcoming expedition to Rheindic Co, the numerous Klikiss mysteries, the strange robots who still functioned
but claimed no knowledge of their creators. Dr. Serizawa stood by his technicians, monitoring endless images of the burning
planet. From their expressions, they had obviously seen the apparition, too.
She went over to them. “What was that, Dr. Serizawa? Did you see—”
The man looked at her with a distracted smile. “It will require detailed analysis, naturally, but do not be alarmed. The secondary
and tertiary effects of the Klikiss Torch are not at all understood. Remember, in the extreme high-pressure cores of a gas
supergiant, common gases can be compressed into metals, carbon is smashed into diamond.”
