Final Frontier, page 10
The Zirquin followed. The scout ships expertly maneuvered around the debris. The cruiser plowed through, their shield shimmering against the impacts. The debris prevented the Zirquin from obtaining a clear shot.
Josef-Govkor took them near wisps of gas floating among the debris. Two of the scout ships passed through the same wisps, which disappeared. Moments later, the Zirquin engines exploded. The ships spun out of control, collided with the cruiser, punching through the shield. Explosions ripped through the cruiser.
“Some of the surviving Darkkon entered the Zirquin’s engines and expanded,” Josef-Govkor explained.
“Those wisps were Darkkons?” Ken asked.
“Yes. Destroying the engines as they did disrupted their molecular bonds.” Josef’s voice was strangely level as he focused his attention on his controls.
Ken turned back to his console, Josef-Govkor’s words echoing in his mind.
“What does that mean?” Casey asked hesitantly, as if fearing the answer.
“They sacrificed themselves,” Josef-Govkor said. “We are through the debris field.”
Ken took a deep breath and forced himself to refocus his attention on his tactical screen. “Two scout ships remain on our tail. Two more cruisers have broken formation.”
“We are orbiting the gas giant,” Josef-Govkor said. On the viewscreen, the blue and green clouds passed over them. Ken looked between the viewscreen and his tactical screen. The Zirquin remained in pursuit. They were closing. “The vortex is directly ahead,” the helmsman said, breaking the tense silence.
“I don’t see anything,” Sakaguchi said.
“We didn’t see anything initially the first time,” Stoner said as she worked her console. “But we did detect tachyon particles before. I’m not now.”
“We did not construct this particular corridor,” Josef-Govkor said as his hands played his controls. Their forward momentum slowed noticeably.
Ken watched the rapidly closing Zirquin on his tactical screen. “The Zirquin will be within weapons range in moments.”
“You’re sure this is it, Josef-Govkor?” Hamilton asked, his voice firm.
“Without a doubt. These are the correct coordinates.” As if on cue, a flash momentarily bathed the command deck in a brilliant white light. When the flash subsided, a familiar white “star” lay before them. Josef-Govkor made final adjustments to his controls, then removed his hands from the console.
“He cut all engines,” de Seleaux reported, glancing back at the captain. On the screen, they still had forward momentum, which seemed to increase steadily as they were pulled toward the vortex.
“Engage restraints,” Hamilton ordered, touching a control on his armrest to activate his. Officers seated around the bridge did likewise. “Gross, tell Anderson to be ready to reset main power. Everyone hold on.”
Ken gripped his console. He glanced over his shoulder to see Casey and the Federation representatives tighten their hold on the rail. The white vortex now filled the viewscreen. The ship lurched, and the bridge went dark. Ken bounced in his seat, then felt himself pressed into it. The ship lurched again, forcing air from his lungs.
PART II:
LOST IN TIME
CHAPTER 8
Ship Calendar: 16 March 2105 A.D.
BRYAN LOOKED up as the lights immediately came back on. Around the bridge, monitors and consoles were already active. “That was fast.”
Yanova muttered something in Russian.
Bryan’s eyes settled on the main viewscreen, and he instantly agreed with whatever the woman said. They were in a sky of blue and pink cloud-like formations, constantly shifting, becoming purple where the two colors met. White lights sparkled around them in random fashion.
“Controls appear to be active,” Stoner said, “but they aren’t—wait a minute...”
“Bridge?” came Anderson’s voice over the intercom. “Do you hear me, bridge?”
Bryan looked back over his shoulder at the com-officer. A perplexed Gross looked back at him and shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t touch anything.”
“Come in, bridge.”
“We hear you, Anderson,” Bryan said. “Good job getting everything back online so promptly.”
“That’s just it, Captain. We didn’t do anything. Everything just came back on by itself. Commands are executing before we can make them.”
“I think I’m having a similar issue,” Stoner said. “Sensors appear to be doing what I want them to, but I’m not touching the controls.”
“How’s that possible?” Casey asked.
“I’m noticing that as well,” McClance said. “My tactical screen seems to be responding directly to my mind.”
“It is the nature of this realm,” Josef-Govkor said.
“I’m detecting fifty of those anomalies including the one directly behind us,” Stoner said. “They form a perfect circle approximately one AU in diameter.”
“Confirmed,” McClance said. “I’m also picking up... Activity from the one behind us.”
“Aft view,” Bryan commanded.
Immediately, the viewscreen snapped to the vortex they came through a moment earlier. It flared, and Bryan squinted against the brilliance. The light faded just as quickly, revealing two Zirquin scout ships. Bryan gave the screen his full attention, but the enemy ships listed as if powerless. “Any sign of them regaining power?” he asked, looking from McClance to Stoner.
“Negative,” Stoner said.
“Confirmed,” McClance said.
On the screen, two small, white pulses descended upon the Zirquin ships. “What are those?” Bryan asked.
“They read as pure energy,” Stoner said.
“Sagans,” Josef-Govkor said. The pulses made contact with the enemy ships and expanded to engulf them.
“What are they doing?” a perplexed Casey asked, a ring of horror in her voice.
“I’m no longer reading the Zirquin ships,” McClance reported.
A moment passed. Then, the pulses—the Sagans—returned to their former size, the Zirquin ships now completely gone. “Where did the ships go?” Casey asked.
“The Sagans have absorbed them,” Josef-Govkor said.
“I suggest you get us out of here, Captain Hamilton,” Sakaguchi said.
“Where do you suggest we go?” Bryan’s eyes were glued to the screen. The Sagans now approached them, passing beyond the view of the aft sensor. “Govkor said these Sagans could direct us to the correct vortex to get us back. You’re sure they won’t harm us, Govkor?”
You are safe for the moment, Captain Bryan Hamilton.
Bryan undid his restraints and came to his feet. He looked around for the source of the echoing, baritone voice. The others also looked up and around. At least he wasn’t the only one who heard it. “What... What do you mean, ‘for the moment’?”
A white light suddenly appeared before him. Bryan squinted again as the light flared and morphed into a humanoid figure. The intensity softened enough that Hamilton could relax his squint and see a Human male figure with a clean-shaven head, gentle white eyes, his body covered in what appeared to be shimmering white robes.
“You Humans have achieved much. I am impressed.” He turned his “eyes” to look about the bridge. He settled on Sharesk. “You Peridjinn have as well.”
“Are... Are you...?” Gross tried to get the words out, unable to manage more than a whisper.
The being turned to her. “No, I am not the Father. Merely a servant who saw, and continues to witness, your kind develop and struggle through atrocities and calamities. Atrocities and calamities that could have been avoided had you not rejected our guidance. My name is Jiru.”
“We’ve managed on our own,” Stoner said.
Jiru turned its attention to her. “Not entirely on your own. In your last century, your species nearly destroyed itself through violence and mismanagement of your planet’s resources. It is only because we have manipulated certain events that you continue to exist to venture beyond your world.”
“What events?”
“Why help us at all?” McClance asked. “Especially since we rejected you, as you say?”
“Yours is not the only world that has rejected the guidance of your Creator. Many other worlds throughout your galaxy and the galaxy you call Andromeda have also done so. The Father has determined that all His different children should learn the benefits of working with each other peacefully and harmoniously.” Jiru turned to focus on Govkor, who had left Josef’s brain and now floated between the helmsman and the Sagan.
That is why you did not assist in our efforts to deactivate the Zirquin, Govkor said, back to speaking with a deep variation of Josef’s voice.
“Part of the reason. As with the Humans and other races for rejecting our guidance, it is important for the Darkkon, and other worlds, to learn the consequences of creating such weapons.” Jiru returned his attention to the Humans. “However, corporeal creatures cannot exist long in this realm, even within a vessel. You must return to your physical and linear Universe.” Jiru raised an arm to indicate the viewscreen. “All but one of the paths that lay before you lead back to the realm in which you belong.”
“Is there one that will return us to our time and place?” Bryan asked.
“Yes and no.”
“That was helpful,” Stoner said.
Can you direct us to the path that the Darkkon have taken?
“Sixty degrees to port, in Human terms. The Darkkon that have previously passed through are now in the galaxy from which the Humans and Peridjinn have originated.”
Bryan furrowed his brow and crossed his arms. Casey was first to ask the question he was thinking. “Why... Why didn’t you just say that before?”
“It still doesn’t really help us,” Stoner said. “The Milky Way Galaxy is a hundred thousand light-years in diameter. We also don’t know when in time the Darkkons emerged.”
“That is true. The direction that the Darkkon have taken may not be the path that you will follow. You must believe.”
Stoner scoffed and rolled her eyes.
There is a problem, Govkor spoke up.
“Just one?” Stoner mumbled.
The path that I must take is that which the other Darkkon have taken, which is likely not the path that these organics must take.
“Worry not, Govkor. You will deliver at the appointed time the information that you possess. When the scourge has spread across the third galaxy, and all of His children have set aside their differences to fight against it as one. When they have realized that they cannot survive while standing apart.”
“Swaub d'nir,” Sharesk said in a hushed voice.
“That is all the assistance that I am allowed to give you in this regard.” The Sagan turned its glowing white eyes on Stoner, as if sensing a silent rebuke. “You have said previously that your kind has managed on its own. This is your opportunity to prove yourself.” Bryan thought he detected a slight humorous ring in the being’s voice. Then, its voice turned gravely serious. “Consider carefully the consequences of your stubbornness. Any doubt from any individual within this vessel will decrease the likelihood of you arriving at your intended destination.”
“We’ve seen the power our minds have in this realm,” McClance reasoned. “With a thought, we can direct what we want our controls to do.”
Bryan nodded his agreement with his executive officer.
With that, the humanoid figure that was Jiru flared, once again forcing Bryan to cover his eyes. Then, the light softened until it disappeared completely.
Bryan lowered his arm, blinking to re-adjust his eyes. The only lights left were those from the controls, the main viewscreen, and the main lights overhead. He looked around the bridge. A deathly silence hung over them as they considered what had just happened. He wondered, himself, if it really happened. Were they really just visited by a representative of God? An angel?
“What are we going to do?” Stoner asked.
Well, whatever that being was, it had given them a direction. Better to follow something specific, rather than fly blindly into a random vortex. “Josef, sixty degrees to port,” the captain said. “Full thrust.”
“Seriously?”
Bryan took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure. But he had to admit that they were just in the presence of a super-powerful being. Jiru and another like it had just consumed two Zirquin ships, leaving no trace of them. “How else do you suggest we proceed?”
Stoner’s mouth opened and closed. When no response was forthcoming, Bryan returned his attention to the main viewscreen. They were already moving. Dead ahead was a small white “star” that may or may not return them to Sol System, 2105. No. It will return them. “Gross, open ship-wide intercom.”
Gross looked at her console and shrugged without doing anything else. “Open.”
“Attention, all hands: everyone is to believe firmly with all heart, mind, and strength that we are returning home. We are returning to Earth, 2105.”
“Then, we’ll see what actually happens,” Stoner muttered.
Bryan threw her a glare. “We are returning to Earth, 2105.”
Stoner again rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. “We are returning to Earth, 2105,” she echoed, her tone still reeking with skepticism.
Well, as much as he tried, he couldn’t order his people to believe. Bryan sat down and turned his attention back to the main viewscreen. He gripped his armrests as he concentrated all his mental energy on their correct time and place. Maybe the greater conviction from those who did believe would make the difference. They drew closer and closer with each passing second.
“The vortex has us,” Josef said.
Bryan re-engaged his restraints. “Cut engines. Just let it pull us in. Nice and easy.” The glowing white sphere grew larger on the screen until the familiar bright light bathed the bridge.
CHAPTER 9
Ship Calendar: 16 March 2105 A.D.
EXCLAMATIONS AROSE from those standing on the operations deck as Bryan’s weight returned. The main lights came on, and he immediately noticed a blanket of heat around him. He pushed the sensation aside for a moment as he looked around the bridge to see his officers re-orienting themselves and consoles coming back online. “Gross, page Anderson. Confirm she’s the one restoring power this time.” His skin was getting clammy; beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
“Aye, sir.”
“Who’s turning up the heat?” Casey asked.
As an answer, the main viewscreen came on…and he flinched at a blinding light. Then, the light filters kicked in, dimming the screen. A sun completely filled the view.
“We’re caught in the star’s gravity,” de Seleaux said urgently.
“Josef, if engines are online, one-eighty degrees hard about, ions to full burn,” Bryan said.
Josef was already working his console. The Frontier spun about. The sun slipped from view, and, as the screen automatically re-adjusted accordingly, a small, cratered planet replaced it. The deck rumbled and the view on the screen shook as Josef fired the ion engines. All the while, Bryan clenched his armrests as gravity pressed him into his chair. Gradually, Bryan felt the pressure ease. The rumbling in the deck softened, and he forced himself to relax the death grip on the armrests.
“We’re clear of the sun,” Josef reported.
“Get us to that planet,” Bryan ordered. “Then, we’ll try to figure out where we are.”
“And see if our ‘faith’ was worth it,” Stoner added sarcastically, keeping her eyes on her controls.
Twenty minutes later, de Seleaux announced that they had settled into the planet’s orbit. “The navigation computer is still not recognizing the star patterns,” she said.
“So much for faith,” Stoner commented.
“Maybe there were some aboard who doubted,” Gross said pointedly.
“Well, obviously we’re in a star system,” Bryan said, more to himself. “Tie into stellar cartography.”
“Already done,” Stoner said. “There are three other planets between us and an asteroid belt. The third planet has a moon. The fourth...has two.”
“Sounds familiar,” McClance said.
“But, if we are back in our solar system,” Sakaguchi said, “why does the computer not recognize the stars?”
“Probable that we are not in the correct time period,” Sharesk said.
On the screen, they passed into the dark side of the planet—Mercury, if they were indeed back in Sol System. An alarm went off at communications. “We’re getting a signal,” Gross announced. “It’s coming from the third planet.”
All eyes were on her now, eagerly waiting as Gross read the message. Her jaw moved, but for a moment nothing came out. “It… It’s… It’s Peridjinn,” she finally managed. She pressed a button on her panel, and an alien voice spoke from the com-speakers.
Hamilton swung around to Sharesk, who now stood behind him, his gills pulsing rapidly. “It is Captain Shenkak, the Krask.”
“The ship that disappeared thirty-three years ago?” Casey asked.
“Caught in meteor storm, forced to abandon ship,” Sharesk continued, translating the message.
Hamilton returned his attention forward. “Josef, take us to the third planet.”
*
Sharesk gazed into his teacup, resting on the table before him. Around him, the murmur of Human voices and the clattering of dishes blended together. The distress signal from the Krask echoed in his mind over and over.
Was it really them? Were they really about to locate one of the twelve ships that had gone missing near Sol System? If he was aboard a Peridjinn vessel, he would be able to verify that the signal was really from the Krask. But who, in whatever time and place they were, would try to deceive them? What would be the point? And, what about the other eleven vessels that had disappeared?
