Star Carrier (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 3) (25 page)

-44-

As we hit the breach, the insanity of my actions struck me. It took that long for me to consider the danger I was placing myself and my crew into.

Entering a hyperspace bridge is a dangerous action under the best of circumstances. But in this case, we were entering an
artificial
bridge that had only just been created.

Was the underlying technology sound? Had a thousand Stroj engineers, all of whom were assumedly now dead, done their jobs properly?

I had no way of knowing. I didn’t even know exactly where this bridge went or how long it would be.

Worse, we were entering under duress. The Beta ships in our wake were plunging after
Defiant
, firing at her. Certainly they were decelerating, but they were still moving forward with greater momentum than either my tiny ship or
Defiant
. In short, they were bound to catch up to us.

Still, I’d persisted in this course of action. I’d acted like Ahab, chasing his infamous whale.

Now wasn’t the time for self-recriminations, I decided. Now was the time to make the best of it by keeping myself and my crew alive.

Leading the way into the breach, we skipped out of normal space and entered another anomalous region of space-time known as hyperspace.

The name itself was a misnomer of sorts. We’d discovered over time that each hyperspace was different. Each was, effectively, its own tiny, independent universe. The laws of physics inside never seemed to match up to the comparatively stable version that dominated the universe outside.

It was like being in an intersecting subset of the normal universe. A domain which was related to, but not a copy of, the original. Each bridge was a shadow of our familiar reality. They were all different, and they were always warped in some way.

This one looked odd right from the start. It was still expanding as we crossed over into it. The void flew away from our ship in every direction, including directly forward. At first, this expansion would be rapid, but as the bridge reached its full extent, the expansion would slow.

“The walls are blue-shifting away,” Vogel said, studying the limited sensor array data. “Already, I can’t detect the wall ahead of us.”

“That’s a good thing,” Lorn said. “If we could, we’d likely slam right into it.”

“Any sign of
Defiant
yet?” I asked.

“I’m not detecting—yes! There she is!”

A proximity warning went off immediately. I felt a tug, oddly enough.

Everyone aboard whooped and cursed.

“Something just grabbed me,” Lorn shouted. “Is that variant going mad?”

“All my limbs are fully stowed,” K-19 said. If I hadn’t known better, I would have said there was a hurt tone to his statement.

“Vicious robot. I still feel a strange tug…”

Director Vogel worked his controls then he looked at me in alarm. “It’s
Defiant
,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“The tug—it’s a gravitational force. The ship is large enough here to exert a force like a small planet.”

I frowned, barely comprehending him. Then, my instruments indicated I was losing power.

“I don’t…” I said, confused, “our ship is apparently being pulled backward.”

“It’s
Defiant
,” Vogel said. “It has to be.”

“What’s your mad scientist prattling about, Sparhawk?” Lorn demanded. “Let me take him off your hands. He’s clearly defective, anyway.”

I ignored Lorn and stared at Vogel. I was beginning to grasp what he was trying to tell me.

“This space has an increased gravitational force?” I asked.

“Exactly,” he said, shifting into a lecturing tone. “Every object has gravity, but normally we don’t feel it. In this slice of hyperspace, each body of mass is exerting something like a thousand times the normal pull.”

“Is the effect dangerous?” I asked.

“It is if we can’t control or compensate for it. There’s another factor I’m measuring… an increase in gravity due to close proximity that’s beyond the universal norm.”

“Specify.”

“Well Captain, the gravitational pull between two bodies lessens with distance and grows with proximity. At least, it does so in our universe. In this space-time, it seems to grow more than normal as the distance between two masses shrinks. At a distance of, say, one hundred meters, you and I won’t affect one another. But at one meter or less, we’ll feel the pull of each other’s bodies.”

Frowning, I looked over the data. It seemed that he was right, but I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Did we all have to malinger in space a hundred meters apart?

The big problem of the moment was
Defiant
. Our own gravitational influences were comparatively minor, but
Defiant
had partially collapsed matter for armor, making her shockingly dense. In this new environment, my instruments were acting as if I was close to something the size of a planet. I could keep a safe distance if I wanted to, but the expenditure of fuel would soon become prohibitive.

“Brace yourselves, everyone,” I announced. “We’re going to be swallowed by
Defiant
.”

We winced and gritted our teeth as the battle cruiser loomed ever closer behind us. It was an odd feeling—as if a shark were drawing us into its mouth through suction.

“Durris!” I shouted over the roar of our engines. I had to fire them to prevent slamming into
Defiant
. “We’re coming in for a hot landing. Make sure the forward bay is open to receive us.”

“It is, Captain,” he responded. “But we’re having some kind of strange effect aboard ship. The inertial dampeners are offline, and crewmen are reportedly being pressed up against walls on every deck.”

“We’re experiencing the same effect. Gravity is apparently exaggerated in this space. I’ve never heard of such an effect before, but that might be due to a lack of experience with artificial bridges.”

“We’ll deal with it,” Durris said confidently. “Come in gently, sir. We’ll maintain as stable a positioning as we can.”

As our two ships merged, they seemed determined to slam together during the final seconds. It was like controlling two magnets that are placed too close to one another. At the last moment, we thudded down with teeth-jarring suddenness.

“We’re aboard,” I told Durris via my com implant. “Close the outer hatch. Raise the shields.”

“We’re in that process now, Captain.”

Good old Durris. Despite this shocking development, he was still at the top of his game.

Painfully, laboriously, we extricated ourselves from our harnesses and staggered out onto the deck of the hangar. The place was deserted. The support crews were nowhere to be seen.

“K-19,” I said, “please secure the shuttle to the deck with rivets—but don’t overdo it. We might need this ship again.”

We moved as a group toward the exit. Lorn seemed to be enjoying himself, unlike the rest of us. He tormented Director Vogel in small ways as we crossed the open deck. He did this by moving a hand near the smaller man’s shoulder, then pulling it away suddenly, which caused him to stumble.

The effects were amazing. We were all exerting gravitational influences that altered even simple behaviors such as walking. It wasn’t that we were heavier than usual, as the ship was exerting about the same pull as Earth’s gravity would have on us. What was different was the varied placement of the influences. We were being tugged in multiple directions all at once. The results left us staggering like a line of drunks.

Lorn reached out a foot and brought it near the back of Vogel’s knee. The older man stumbled and went down. Lorn chuckled pridefully.

“Stop that,” I ordered him. “K-19, I want you to guard this man. Prevent him from taking aggressive action of any kind.”

K-19, done with the process of securing the shuttle, rapidly scuttled forward. His steps were relatively sure compared to our own. He had four more legs to start with, and I suspected his locomotion software had already made compensating adjustments.

Lorn sneered at the variant. “Unfair, Sparhawk,” he complained. “As always, you blame the victim. This man created monsters that have killed millions of my people. All I want to do is irritate him slightly. Why not let me have my fun?”

Director Vogel looked back at Lorn in fear. He’d been unaware of the source of his troubles. Lorn’s artificial eye ceased it’s twitching and locked onto the old man’s frail form. He loomed over him, with clear violent intent written on his nightmarish features.

“If Director Vogel is guilty as you say, he’ll be punished in accordance to Earth law,” I assured Lorn. “In the meantime, stay away from him.”

“Earth law…” Lorn spat, turning away.

Lorn moved with an ease and grace that made me frown.

“How are you able to adjust so quickly to this environment?” I asked him.

“Superior genetics and masterful mechanical design,” he said.

To me, his words didn’t sound truthful. He was, if anything, a patchwork of parts. He was a capable construct, but far from optimally designed.

“You’ve experienced this effect before, haven’t you?” I demanded.

“Your suspicious mind does you no credit, Sparhawk.”

“Why didn’t you tell us we’d encounter something like this? Why didn’t you warn us?”

He made a spitting, laughing sound.

“You didn’t ask me,” he said.

“You should always offer up critical information that improves the odds of mission success.”

He looked at me as if I were mad. “Come now. We made a deal with my part being agreed to under duress. I haven’t gotten you killed yet, which should more than prove my loyalty. Quit whining.”

He stumped away with K-19 in tight pursuit.

Morris stepped up to me and indicated Lorn with a rude gesture.

“That thing is trouble,” he said. “He always has been, and this time is no different. Let me take care of him, Captain. I’ll blow him out an airlock, and no one will ever lodge a complaint about it. No one.”

I suspected his suggestion was a wise one, but that didn’t change my plans.

“You’ll do no such thing,” I told him sternly. “There’s a conflict ongoing between our peoples, Morris. Casualties on both sides are to be expected. However, in the interest of avoiding total genocide, we’ll have to make peace with them eventually. That means we’ll have to start honoring our agreements at some point. I’ve chosen to do so now.”

Morris sniffed. “Suit yourself, Captain,” he said, and vanished into the passages. He went below decks with his marines while K-19 marched Lorn to detention.

I found myself alone with Director Vogel. We headed toward the command deck.

-45-

The director and I walked to the command deck on unsteady feet. When I reached my chair at last, Durris struggled to remove himself from it, and I gratefully took his place.

“Captain on deck!” he called.

“XO,” I said, “take Vogel to your planning table and make him comfortable in one of the jump-seats. He’s earned the right to be here today, and I’ll value his advice on surviving the next few hours.”

“As to that, Captain,” Durris said as he helped Vogel into a fold-out chair, “we haven’t yet seen the Beta ships enter this space. They might not follow us. They must know this bridge is artificial and new-born. It might collapse on them.”

I thought about it and shook my head. “No, they’ll follow us. They’re too prideful. The last time we faced Okto, we had to cripple her ship to evade her. That action, in fact, might be why she’s so determined this time.”

“Out of spite?”

“I would sooner term it ‘pride’ as it’s her pride that was injured. She’ll be along shortly, and we must make whatever preparations we can.”

Durris leaned heavily on his table looking both stressed and off-balance.

“We can’t run,” he said. “This space-time is still in the early growth stages. We might run into the limit of it, and either we pass the exit or cease to exist, lost in limbo.”

“That’s a theory,” Vogel said. “There might be something beyond the limits of a sub-universe like this one.”

“Why haven’t any probes sent there ever returned, then?” Durris asked.

Vogel shrugged, conceding the point. “I’m just saying we don’t know what’s out there past the edge of this space.”

“Fine, but unless we want to find out, we can’t use thrust to escape our pursuers.”

“XO,” I said, interrupting the two of them. “What
can
we do then?”

“We can set up an ambush, like I advised before, with missiles and measured beam-firing data.”

I hesitated. We’d beaten Okto the last time we’d fought her with an ambush approach. I was reluctant to repeat the trick, but I couldn’t see a better path.

“Damn,” I said, then drew a deep breath. “Deploy smart-missiles. Set them up to strike the first entrant. Start laying out probes. Get our firing ranges down before we have to use them.”

Durris turned to the work eagerly. Vogel struggled to his feet and staggered to my chair.

“Captain,” he said in a winded voice, “I have no love for these Betas, but I don’t think we should destroy three more of their ships. They may be some of the last effective forces any of the colonies have that might be able to stop the variants.”

“I know that, Director. This isn’t what I’d intended. But what would you have me do? We can’t run without space to run to. I can’t allow this ship to be destroyed for the good of the Betas, either.”

He shook his head. “It’s a difficult situation. By the way, why did you get them to follow us?”

I glanced at him. “Was it that obvious?”

He scoffed gently. “Sparhawk, I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve seen tricks and barbs many times. You wanted the Beta ships to chase us. Why?”

“I had hopes,” I admitted. “I still do, but they’re fading.”

Vogel looked around the deck. “You thought they might help us defeat the variants? Or the oldsters running Earth?”

“Either would be a great help,” I admitted. “I was desperate. But now it seems more likely we’ll tear each other apart out here in hyperspace. It may all turn into an unfortunate waste.”

We watched for a moment as Durris excitedly released his missiles, programmed them, and placed them with loving care. Like a circular firing squad, they ringed the breach behind us, ready to plunge like a score of daggers into any ship that dared to follow us.

At the same time, he released targeting drones. These flew in patterns around our ship, and our guns fired at them determinedly. At first, the drones evaded the guns. That was due to the warped physics of this space-time.

The effect was severe, I could see that immediately. Our guns chattered and hummed for nearly a minute failing to strike anything.

But then, almost as if by chance, the first of the drones flashed into a brief, brilliant point of light. The software, having scored a hit, quickly updated itself. After that they learned, and their aim improved. The other drones were all taken out within the span of thirty more seconds.

Durris turned toward me pridefully. “We’re ready for them, sir,” he said. “At least we’ll have the drop on them.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “but we had it last time, and we barely crawled away from one of their ships. This time, there will be three.”

His elated expression faded. After all was ready, we waited for perhaps five more tense minutes.

We’d just begun to relax. That first inkling of hope had flared up, uninvited.

Maybe the Betas would give up. Perhaps they’d had enough of ambushes and unknown bridges. Or maybe they’d simply come to their senses and let their rage fade away.

But it wasn’t to be. Just as my guts unknotted a notch, there was bright burst of energy. The breach had hiccupped, and someone had followed us into our private universe.

The first Beta ship was sleek and cruel-looking. Like a bird of prey, she swooped out of nothingness and stalked forward with confidence.

“All hands,” I heard myself saying, “prepare for battle. This is no drill.”

After that, I shut out the buzzing in my implant. I had no time to listen to them all. I had to think.

“Where are the rest of them? Yamada?”

“Just one ship has come through so far, sir.”

“Captain,” Durris said, “permission to fire the missiles?”

There they were, hanging all around the enemy ship like daggers, encircling her. She looked competent, but I knew that she had to be suffering the same disorienting effects we’d felt at first. Her engineers were probably glued to the warp core. Her service people might be, even now, picking themselves up off the outer walls of the hull which dragged them off their feet.

“Yamada,” I said, ignoring Durris, “open a channel to that ship.”

“Done.”

“Captain Okto,” I said, knowing it had to be her. “Let’s not repeat past mistakes. Please listen to me.”

“No response, Captain,” Yamada said.

“Are they listening?”

“They got the message—but they’re not responding.”

“Captain,” Durris said urgently. “There isn’t much time to surprise her. We can’t just wait around—”

Then, interrupting his words, two more ships appeared. The flashes of light subsided, and the three enemy cruisers faced us as a united front.

My heart sank. I’d dared to hope Okto had come alone, that I could get her to see reason.

“Durris,” I said with a heavy heart. “All missiles should lock onto the first ship.”

“Done sir. Give the word.”

“Wait!” cried Director Vogel. “They’re—they’re falling into one another!”

I stared, and I saw in amazement he was right. The enemy ships had taken the time to slow down before entering this strange hyperspace. Okto had taken the plunge first, but the second and third ship had come into our tiny realm side-by-side.

That decision had been their undoing. The two ships were too close. They fell into one another like two planets in a deadly spiral.

Sensing the disaster, the pilots tried to evade by applying thrust. But it was too little, too late. The two ships crashed into one another, belly to belly, smashing banks of canons and sensor arrays between them.

The thrust they’d both applied in different directions to avoid contact now proved disastrous. They went into a rapid spin, engines flaring blue and white.

“Their crews will lose consciousness,” Durris said in a disbelieving voice.

The first ship, seeing the other two were in dire straits, began accelerating toward us. But now, the other two had become a single, powerful gravitational force. Like a miniature black hole, they pulled their sister back toward them.

“Stand down and retrieve our missiles, Durris,” I said.

He did as I ordered without comment.

We watched as the three Beta ships became hopelessly entangled. I could only imagine the hell their crews were experiencing now—if they’d managed to survive a tripling of gravity and the impact of the third dense vessel upon the first two.