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Authors: Andrew Beery

BOOK: Exploration
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His analysis presented him with a dilemma. He knew he would exit the trans-dimensional hyperjump in a little under ten hours. He also now knew, based on an analysis of the math involved, that there would be a bow wave of energetic matter that would materialize directly in front of his vessel. A fraction would be between the hull and the protective hyperfield shielding. This would render the shielding ineffectiv
e—
essentially vaporizing the hyperfield nodes responsible for generating it. He estimated some sixteen meters of his exterior rock surface would be ablated by the energies released upon exit. Considering the average thickness of his forward hull was fifteen meters this presented him with a problem.

 

He instructed his internal systems to begin fabrication of a secondary hyperfield shield designed to deploy within the parameter of the existing shield. This meant the field would form superimposed with the physical material of his hull. The Hyperfield would eject the hull materia
l—
forcefully. The material would convert to superheated plasma by the combination of the energy present in the bow wave, as well as the secondary hyperfield itself. This plasma would be held between the two hyperfield layers for a fraction of a second until the outer-most field completed its inevitable collapse. At this point the energetic plasma would be released to explode forth. Anything directly in front of 101 as he emerged would be destroyed. Since 101 knew a veritable armada of GCP vessels would be waiting at SgA for his eventual return, he began to suspect this would need to be a one-way trip. Returning to the 'alpha-verse' from the 'beta-verse' could potentially destroy the fleet. This was a risk he was reluctant to take without a compelling reason.

 

***

 

At Running Stream's request, Cat had Ken mount a camera in elevator one. This was the numerical designation they had agreed to use for the first of the working elevator tubes. The remaining tubes were labeled two through four in a clockwise rotation. This took a few minutes to explain, as the Modos had no concept of a circular clock with rotating hands.

 

The elevators used a control system virtually identical to what was on the
Bluefin
. This simple fact was cause for quite a bit of speculation among the Modos crew. Running Stream held the door open and pressed the buttons for each of the six remaining levels. He then exited the elevator and watched with Cat and a few of the others. The small holographic display Ken's team had set up near one of the consoles showed each level as the door opened briefly for a nonexistent passenger. The first five floors were unremarkable. They were clean and unlittered. The last level was another matter entirely. It too was clean and unlittered, except for the ring of twelve mummified bodies sitting cross-legged in a perfect circle a scant meter from the door to the open elevator.   

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen: Bitter Homecoming

 

The nagging suspicion that this was the Modos home world was at last irrefutably confirmed. The desiccated bodies were carefully inspected. They were unquestionably Bearephants. There were a few notable physical differences. The cranial ridge and overall size of the cranium was a good 30 percent larger in these specimens than the modern-day variant.

 

Running Stream was the first to note that there were no Modos symbiotes present, nor was there the tell-tale temple scarring that would indicate there ever had been. These individuals were representatives of a fully independent and intelligent species. It appeared that the modern Suhtii had changed over time. The changes introduced an uncomfortable question.

 

Were the Modos responsible for genetically tampering with the Suhtii in order to make them more biddable? Running Stream shared a special relationship with the Suhtii known as He-who-speaks.  Neither was complete when separated. The possibility that he and his symbiote companion were not everything the Creator had intended them to b
e—
because his race had interfered at a genetic level with the Suhti
i—
was deeply disturbing.

 

Running Stream tapped his commlink. "Dr. Lacidem, please report to the lower level. Bring a diagnostic med kit. I want a complete DNA work up on the mummified Suhtii down here, and I want it yesterday!"

 

***

 

101 extended his sensors to maximum. He had exited the hyperjump corridor thirty-six milliseconds ago. The bow wave from his exit propagated out at near relativistic speeds. Regrettably there were several craft in the immediate vicinity of his exit. One was vaporized by the blast. Another was heavily armored and protected by a massive asteroid-based ablation shield. The ship's shield was badly damaged but the vessel itself was generally unhurt.

 

His AI core started to collate petabytes of data streaming in from dozens of active and passive sensor systems. It was clear a battle had taken place here. More to the point, there was evidence of a previous GCP presence. There were trillions of dormant Sandies drifting in space. These tiny but immensely destructive nanites were preprogramed to deactivate twelve hours after deployment. They were simple machines with no recording systems; however, interspersed with the Sandies were a relatively small number of controller nanites that were far more complex. They recorded all activity within their sphere of interest.

 

101 sent the appropriate encoded quantum signal and accessed their logs. Within moments he had a relatively complete view of what had occurred. Much to his delight, Admiral Kimbridge had instructed a copy of the logs from the
Honey Dipper
, as well as Commander Kirkland's pinnace, to be embedded in the nanite's memory.

 

101 continued to scan the immediate vicinity for several more milliseconds. He located a suitable miniature asteroid several light minutes away. He micro-jumped his vessel on top of the rock so that the iron-nickel asteroid would appear in his fabrication bay. His automated systems began the task of reconfiguring it.

 

Three milliseconds later, he hyperjumped to new coordinates based on the
Honey Dipper's
logs. The
Honey Dipper
had followed Cat and now he would follow it. At the same time 101 reached out with his quantum node to Admiral Kimbridge.

 

For the crew of the Modos Syndicate cruiser
Battle Fin
the first hint that something was amiss was when an intense energy pulse vaporized a support vessel. Next they had been struck by an immensely powerful blast which had virtually overwhelmed their passive and active shielding. A fraction of a second later, when their sensor screens had cleared, they caught the barest glimpse of moon-sized ship before it disappeared down a hyperjump well. Several days later when repairs had been completed and they were again able to themselves hyperjump; they could find no sign of the interloper. The captain of the
Battle Fin
was unsure if he should be happy or not.

 

***

 

'
Admiral Kimbridge?
'

 

Cat sat up with a start. She had been napping in the makeshift barracks that had been set up on level three. Her commlink identified the communication as an FTL message from a WhimPy platform.

 

"101?"

 

'
Admiral, I am delighted to be in communication with you. Can you give me your coordinates?
'

 

"I can do better than that. I'm opening a secure data port to the memory archive in my encounter unit.  Go ahead and pull a complete recording of my activity since coming onboard the
Bluefin
. Can I assume you have the ability to carry them back to the Alpha-verse?"

 

WhimPy-101 noted the use of Greek to refer to the various universes. '
There are certain complications but the short answer i
s

yes.
'

 

"Complications?"

 

'
Inefficiencies in the trans-universal conduit express themselves as an energetic bow wave. Anything at the destination terminus is subjected to the equivalent of a low-yield SJ round.
'

 

"That would be bad," Cat commented dryly.

 

'
It already was for one of the Syndicate ships. Regrettably once I determined what was happening I was already in the conduit and unable to prevent the emergence wake.

 

"The energy of the bow wake will most certainly be a function of the size of the hyperfold conduit. Maybe we can use that to our advantage?"

 

'
Already on it, Admiral. I have constructed a shuttling microprobe that will bounce back and forth between the universes. It will relay a copy of your logs to the Admiralty and then return to the beta-verse. The probe will have a minimal wake that will not pose an undue risk for ships on either side.  There will, however, be a sizable delay between messages.
'

 

"Understood, 101. I may have a potential solution to both the time delay and the bow wake. I want to think about the implications for a day or so... I'll get back to you."

 

***

 

The
MS Vengeance
was not a big ship, at least in comparison to ships like the
GCP Yorktown
. They were not equipped to handle slaves and so Ricky Valen and his 'consort' Honey were confined to the medical brig. This suited Ricky just fine. The
Honey Dipper
, or what was left of her, had deployed nanite probes that were slowly carried throughout the ship by the movements of the crew.

 

Honey collated the numerous data feeds and produced a realtime picture of any part of the ship they desired to see on a moment by moment basis. This visual representation was fed directly into Ricky's visual cortex by the abundance of medical and construction nanites Honey had injected into his body earlier. It was probably fair to say he was more extensively augmented than any human in history save Catherine Kimbridge. This was due in large part to a near proprietary protectiveness exhibited towards him by his ship's female avatar.

 

Because they were confined to the medical brig, they were not closely watched. There was a locked door between them and the rest of the ship. To the crew of the
Vengeance
this should have meant they wouldn't be getting into trouble. Little did they know that 'trouble' was Ricky's middle name, and it was a passtime in which he took special pleasure.

 

'Ease off the VASIMRs a couple of percent. Let's see how their engineering crew responds to that,'
Ricky said silently to Honey via his fully cloaked internal commlink. They had been playing this game with the crew for the better part of two hours. Nanites had been deployed to take control of the various subsystems within the ship. In point of fact, Ricky and the
Honey Dipper
had complete control of the
MS Vengeance
, although the crew of the
Vengeance
was unaware of this fact.

 

'Diverting excess energy to the galley's ovens. The chef is going to find his roast grazer beast is going to be a tad on the well-done side in a moment,'
Honey responded silently but with a flirtatious wink. They were supposed to be married, after all. A moment later the smoke alarms in the kitchen went off.

 

***

 

Jason Ruck sat back in his command chair aboard the GCP flagship
Yorktown
and whistled. He had just reviewed the logs sent back by WhimPy-101. He hated to admit it, but Admiral Faragon had been right. Had the
Yorktown
or any of the other ships in his task force attempted a trans-universe hyperjump without knowing what 101 was able to discover, there was no question the ship in question would have been destroyed.

 

He toggled his commlink. "Lieutenant Nyota, open ship-to-ship. I need to brief the fleet."

 

"Channel open, Captain," the young Ashkelon reported in a slightly English accent.

 

"This is Captain Ruck of the
Yorktown
. Please back your ships away from the event horizon. I want all ships to maintain a distance of no less than three light minutes. If something big comes through you are to raise shields and take a maximum defensive posture. We have just decoded a message from WhimPy-101 that indicates there is the potential for a dangerous bow wake in front of objects traveling a trans-universe hyperjump corridor. I'm having my ship's AI append a copy of 101's message to this communication. I want all science departments analyzing the data and looking for options for a solution as fast as possible. Our people in the beta-verse are on their own until we can solve this. SO LETS GET CRACKING! Ruck Out."

 

***

 

It turned out Admiral Kimbridge had the answer first. Jason smiled to himself when thirty minutes later a small meter long probe shimmered into existence in front of his ship. The effect was unlike any hyperjump he had ever seen. Immediately his commlink signaled a connection request. Sometimes Jason thought Cat let others attempt to solve problems first out of sheer politeness.

 

"Jason?"

 

"Admiral Kimbridge! Why am I not surprised? What a delight to hear your voice again."

 

Cat's laughed.  "You can stow the 'Admiral' crap, mister. And if you think for one moment that my promotion gets you out of that dinner you owe me then you had better rethink your plans..." She paused before adding,
"…
Captain."

 

Jason scratched his chin in thought. "There is the issue of you being in another universe, unless of course the Modos shrunk you to under a meter.  This of course introduces another question. How is it that we are holding a realtime conversation? WhimPy-101's data indicated there was a variable time delay between the alpha and beta-verses."

 

"There is a minimum eleven hour delay, and it still exists. The probe is using a temporal hyperfield to time-shift incoming and outgoing communication by 22.1 hours. The messages seem to be real-time to you and me, but in reality they are not. The probe is still optimizing the interlink between the universes."

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