Branegate (37 page)

Wil sent the message to the other three Guppies accompanying them, and a precise, final jump was calculated. Trae and Myra took no sedatives, and were quite awake when the jump was made. When the swirling in their heads began to subside, they unbuckled themselves and rushed to the bridge to look at the viewscreen.

Their Guppy had returned to real space a few hundred miles ahead of the invasion fleet, and fifty ships larger than Guppy were rushing towards them at orbital speeds. The ships seemed to be slowing down. The scanners did a sweep, and sorted out ships according to size, finding nothing smaller than a B-class freighter.

There was no sign of great-grandmother Nat’s ship.

CHAPTER 41

O
f all the pilots on Elderon, only four had any history with Grand Portal or passage beyond it. One of these was Simon Ziel, now well into his seventh lifetime. And he had mostly spent all seven of them sailing into space.

Simon had originally been born on Kratola, had grown up there, watched his own father sail away in fusion powered ships to neighboring worlds before there had been a Grand Portal or a Council of Bishops. He’d apprenticed under his father for four years in hydraulics, then engineering. His performance was first rate, and he was sent to Marine Academy with tuition and living expenses paid. When he graduated with honors in Astronautical Engineering, he’d never seen his father so proud. The man had actually shed tears at the ceremony. But more reasons for pride were ahead. His father’s company sponsored him for both pilot’s training and an advanced engineering degree. And at the age of twenty-nine he sailed his own ship, a C-class freighter called ‘Fate’, into space.

Three lifetimes later he piloted an A-class freighter through Grand Portal and headed for the colonies, never to return, for Zylak Industries discovered him and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. And he piloted their ships for two-plus lifetimes back to Grand Portal, transferring goods to family industries on the other side.

Now in his early fifties, he hadn’t flown for ten years, had assumed an executive position in Transportation, and was content with it. But then the Guppies were being assembled, and transportation to the galactic core in just weeks was suddenly possible, and an old friend, Wil Dietz, was badgering him to fly again.

It’s in the blood, they say.

Simon had a wife and two grown children in this lifetime. He knew he had to fly again, and his wife agreed. He would only be away weeks at a time if he qualified. The ship was experimental, and far advanced technically. His age might work against him.

He qualified, flew seven test runs, making forty-six jumps and projecting twelve branegates up to distances of two miles. Only then did they tell him what his next assignment might be.

Telling him was left for Wil, for they were close friends. A war was coming, he said, an invasion fleet sent by Kratola to put the colonies under the thumb of The Church. Leonid Zylak’s own son would lead a flight of Guppies to intercept the fleet, stop it, turn it around or destroy it, using the branegate as a weapon. Simon would lead a flight of four Guppies to Grand Portal and take control of it. He might be required to destabilize it or destroy the thing completely, depending on the outcome with the invasion fleet.

The idea was terrifying, but he was best qualified for the job. He talked it all out with his dear wife before making a decision.

Simon Ziel accepted the assignment, and had time for several practice runs, using the branegate against moonlets. After only three runs he was told his departure was at hand. An emergency had developed in handling the invasion fleet, and he had to leave earlier than anticipated.

He enjoyed a somewhat anxious but wonderful night with his wife. His children could only be told he was on a flight test. By noon of the following day he was on board
Guppy IV
and leading three other ships out of orbit.

Five weeks later he was seventy-five thousand light years away from his home and family. Grand Portal was a greenish, elongated star straight ahead, and one short jump away. Simon studied the scanner views on his screen. The portal was exactly as he remembered it from a lifetime ago, the same keepers, stabilizing power generators, nearby black holes only light days away. All unchanged. The generators were the vulnerable points, but he’d have to take out all of them to destroy the whole configuration. The keepers were too large to be handled by any branegate he could project.

They prepared for the final jump, and Nova pilots scrambled to their ships. Five-drop ports along the slender tail of
Guppy IV
could put them into space in seconds. Missiles were checked and armed, but ports kept closed during jump.

Charging time was exactly twelve seconds, not a millisecond more or less. “Initiating jump,” said Simon softly, and pressed a button on his console to dump a mass of exotic particles from
Guppy IV’s
plenum into the fabric of spacetime, pinching it.

After several lifetimes of space-time jumping, there was no lapse of awareness for Simon Ziel or his crew. They traveled four light-months in the blink of an eye, and Grand Portal filled the viewscreen at a distance of twenty thousand miles. Main thrusters were shut down, and they came in on vernier engines to one side of the broad transit lane. A few ships were moored there, held in place by their verniers in a gravitational field so complex the mooring could only be achieved by computer.

Within minutes they were hailed by Portal Authority on standard frequency.

“Unidentified vessel, please identify yourself and give origin and destination.”

Simon pressed a button opening the four missile ports on the nose of his ship, and initiated a plenum charge. Behind him he could hear the faint whine of turbines in readying Nova craft.

“This is
Guppy IV
. We are a military vessel out of Elderon, a colony world, and have been sent here to defend ourselves against attack. We carry major weapons, and five attack spacecraft. Our adversary is Kratola, and the invasion fleet that planet has sent against us. That fleet passed through here several months ago.”

There was a long pause, perhaps in astonishment, perhaps to alert picket ships. “Nova commanders, seal hatches, prepare for drop, target and destroy any attacking vessels,” Simon said softly, but his heart was racing.

“
Guppy IV
, we do not berth military vessels, nor have any such vessels passed through Grand Portal. You are in error.”

Simon sighed. “If you wish, I can give you an exact date fifty major vessels passed through here fully loaded with military personnel, armored vehicles and fighter craft bound for the frontier. These vessels were supposedly inspected, certified as merchant class, and passed through by Portal Authority. We have witnesses to the transit, and reason to believe you have indirectly participated in an eminent military attack on our planet and its neighboring worlds.”

Again a long pause, then, “New blips, sir. Six small vessels coming at us from two o’clock. Going to optical.” A picture from engineering came up on the screen. Six picket ships were headed towards them in vee formation at high speed.

“Drop,” said Simon, and there was a thump as five Nova fighters dropped from the long belly of
Guppy IV
.

“Portal Authority, withdraw your pickets, or we will destroy them.” Simon’s heart was hammering hard, now.

The Nova fighters formed an arc beyond the nose of
Guppy IV
and hovered there. The picket ships slowed, and came to a standstill a mile off.

“Deploying your fighters can be considered an act of aggression,
Guppy IV
.”

“Not if we’re defending ourselves against your pickets.” Simon pressed a lever, and Sniffer was deployed in four seconds. “Charge plenum, two minutes,” he said to his engineer.

Another long pause. Perhaps they’d noticed the strange beak appearing on
Guppy IV
’s face.

“We must board you for inspection and certification. Call back your attack spacecraft immediately.”

“There’s nothing to certify. We’re not making transit. Our purpose is to be sure no other military vessels pass through here to attack our planets, and that the fleet you so carelessly let through goes home again or is destroyed. To that end we’re prepared to destroy any ship that attacks us, and if necessary we’ll destabilize Grand Portal or shut it down completely.”

The man he was talking to actually laughed. “You must be mad.”

“I can arrange a demonstration if you wish, but if you aren’t Portal Captain, then I’m talking to the wrong person. He’ll be responsible for any damage I cause here.”

“Pickets targeted and locked,” said the engineer.
Guppy IV
’s missiles would take them all out in a single salvo, but at considerable cost in human life.

“Wait a moment. I’ll get him.”

Simon settled in his chair to wait, but a new, gruff voice was on the speaker only seconds later.

“This is Janus Stark, senior officer of Portal Authority. This portal is non-political and independent, with no ties to any planet or league. What or who gives you the right to come here and disrupt the flow of commerce?”

Janus? It couldn’t be, but it was the same rough voice.

“That’s not our intention, sir. We only mean to—”

“I heard all of it. The military ships you’re after weren’t sent by us. Take it up with Kratola; the Bishops are no concern of ours.”

“You admit those ships came through here?”

“Of course. There are no laws forbidding it. Any ship can make transit, once the correct portal tax is paid. Arrangements can always be made.”

Simon smiled to himself. “You remind me of a midshipman I served with on
Lockspur
three lifetimes ago. He knew how to get all our money before we even reached port, but I heard he was killed later in a fire after I’d left for another ship.”

A short, silent pause, then, “Who are you?”

“Simon Ziel, and I’ve never changed my name in seven lifetimes.”

Another pause, even shorter, and, “One second. I’m going to another line.”

It
was
Janus. He’d liked the man; though he was a rascal, he’d always been open about it. Simon had been saddened when he thought the man was dead.

Immediately, Janus was on the air again. “We’re private, now. By The Source, Simon, what are you up to? I’ve a nice setup here, and I don’t need anyone screwing around with it. You want something, let’s negotiate a price, just like the old days.”

“I thought you were dead in that fire on ‘Larkspur.’”

“No. I had other business to attend to at the time. Came back late, after it was over. Lost friends in that fire. What do you want from me?”

“Well, what I said before is the truth. The Bishops have sent their ships to regain control of the colonies, but we have the technology to stop or destroy them. I work for Zylak Industries, and the vessels with me come from them.”

“Ah, private industry,” said Janus. “That makes you merchant class. I can offer you a good rate on the tax if you give me a semi-honest estimate of cargo value. We’ll start with the five fighters you just deployed. What else?”

Simon suppressed a chuckle. “I’ve told you we’re not making transit, and I told you the truth about the power of our ships. Here’s what we can do.”

Simon told him everything: armament, jump-rate and distance, and the powers of the branegate when deployed.

Jamus whistled at him. “Whoo, imagine that scaled up for heavy cargo. No company could compete with you. Zylak is public, I presume. I wouldn’t mind having some stock in that company.”

Simon blurted it out before he could control his tongue. “That can be arranged,” he said.

“Really? Well, how does one earn such a valuable investment for his later years?”

“For starters, you can call off your pickets and allow us to berth here. Any military traffic will only be allowed towards the other side, and we’ll enforce it as long as the colonies are threatened. I also want to send a message to The Bishops, to let them know we cannot only destroy their ships, but Grand Portal as well. A demonstration that won’t harm anyone.”

“I’m responsible for any damage here,” said Janus, “and I worked nearly two lifetimes for this position.”

“We’re a military force with advanced technology; you were surprised and overwhelmed.”

“My colleagues will know better.”

“Not if they’re sufficiently compensated. Zylak Industries is an eight hundred trillion gold sovereign conglomerate, Janus. How much do you want?”

The silence was not long. “A half billion in stock for myself, and one and a half billion in gold to divide among all the workers here. That’s around a million per man, more than they’ll see in a lifetime. It should be enough.”

“Sounds more generous than I remember you being,” said Simon.

“Oh, I’ll get a chunk of the gold, too. I’ve a few businesses on The Wheel, and that’s the only place for pleasures around here. I’ll even take you there, if you stick around long enough. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes. I can have payment here in a few months, once our mission is accomplished. You’ll have to trust me for it.”

“And you’ll have to trust me right now. I’m calling the pickets in, and you can have your berths, but I want no lives lost or any permanent damage to Grand Portal by this demonstration of yours.”

“I was thinking of taking out a generator or two, and shutting down the portal for a day as a show of force. How easily can the generators be replaced?”

“Spares are parked days from here. We’d have to block all transits for a week. It would certainly get The Bishops’ attention. Most of the ships through here are from Kratola.”

“Make arrangements right now for a generator to be moved here. Talk to your people about the compensation. Tell them we’re a police force from the colonies, sent to keep military from coming through, and we’re making a show of power. Nobody gets hurt.”

“Better get the money here, Simon.”

“You get the generator, I’ll arrange for payment, right now.”

“Okay, but recall your fighters. I’m leaving one picket to guide you to your berth. Maybe later we can have a drink for old times.”