The Lost Aria (Earth Song Book 3) Read online

  “This dilation effect varies depending on the speed. The faster we go the less effect. At maximum speed there is almost no difference, at the minimum recommended speed, our passage will take four years, and eight will pass on Bellatrix.”

  “So this is doable?” She looked around at everyone, the question obvious. “Attacking the station is risky at best, and even if we get at the Portals we’ll be dodging snakes all the way home. Pip says it's one to four years for us, and up to eight back home. What do you all say?”

  “We are fine with taking the ship,” Var'at said quickly for all the Rasa.

  “Sounds like an adventure,” Aaron agreed. His mind was considering the possibility of being restricted to the ship for a year or more with Minu. His stomach did a flip-flop.

  Ted shrugged. “I don't have a lot of years left, I would be happy if I spent what was left flying in this marvelous craft and learning about the ancient species that built it.”

  “You couldn't drag me off this ship,” said Bjorn with finality. “To travel faster than the speed of light, and not through a Portal? That is simply something I must do.”

  Cherise sighed and stared at her screen. “I would miss my family greatly, but it does sound like a fine adventure.”

  “Don't forget,” Pip chimed up, “we can stop at a world with a Portal on the way back. I have detailed, if very old maps of the galaxy and every Portal there in.”

  Minu nodded and considered. Everyone was willing to go, and that meant a lot. As commander it was ultimately her decision. And over it all was the fact that what would happen to her when she arrived back on Bellatrix after basically going AWOL, stealing two transports, and as much gear as she could haul. The ship was an asset, an incredibly powerful asset that would benefit the people of Bellatrix in more ways than she could easily imagine. So the decision was made.

  “How soon can we switch to this Gravitic Lens Drive?”

  Chapter 4

  January 17th, 522 AE

  Firebase, Enigma Star System, Galactic Frontier

  Singh-Apal-Katoosh watched the first shuttle be destroyed over his tablet as his troops were boarding the shuttle. It took a few minutes to get everyone set and decompress the bay, during which the debris of the shuttle splashed against the starships shield with no effect, and then collided with the station and several ships docked to it.

  Instantly their launch sequence was aborted, the doors closing again and the lighting turning to a green tinge. The annoying chattering voice announced that the firebase was under attack and to remain where they were. With growing dread, Singh saw a series of missiles flash away from the station and race away almost like lasers. Less than a minute later he lost the data feed to his tablet as the other two shuttles were turned into brilliant points of light.

  Perhaps if he wasn't locked down, he could still try to ram the damned ship, or something. Here he could do nothing. He contacted the Portal Transfer station that was not locked down and had the last two shuttles launched. Instead of troops, they were packed with as many EPC as they could quickly load aboard. The high energy capacitors carried an incredible amount of energy, and if impacted against a defenses shield could well be catastrophic. The transfer station sent him a new feed of the damned ship.

  As the minutes dragged on it seemed to be heading for the transfer station. If they meant to force entry, they would have a nasty surprise from the fans of warriors he'd left there. But then it changed course, and began to accelerate. Then it really accelerated! In only a few seconds it became an improbable blur, and then was gone.

  For a time he just seethed and waited. His sub-commanders kept their distance in the cramped shuttle, fearing their leader’s well known rage. Eventually the green glow went away and the locks were released. The chattering voice thanked them for their patience.

  “Pilot, return to the transfer station.”

  Sally nodded and began the launch sequence again. Just like Singh she'd watched the brief battle, and the station’s response. Then the ship’s improbable escape at what must have been multiples of light speed. While Singh seethed with impotent rage, Sally was already composing a message to the Technological Nest Master. They must increase their work to gain access to these ships, they must. She also found herself hoping to one day meet these 'humans' again. They were fascinating beings.

  They never noticed the ship passing the speed of light. Pip explained that inside the ship they really weren't traveling faster than light, only the space around the ship. Bjorn and Ted were discussing this with Pip while Minu tried to follow along. Her education was in technology and engineering, the degree of physics they were casually bantering about was several steps beyond her modest learning in that field. On Bellatrix they still taught that Einstein had it right.

  Acceleration was very quick to start then slowed until they crept up to just under three thousand times the speed of light, what Pip called ‘nearly optimal’. He also explained that the speeding up and slowing down were the most power hungry parts of the operation. She’d watched their reserves drop quickly below 10% during the first few hours, but then level off at 9% as they cruised along at their inconceivable speed.

  Safely away from Enigma, the crew was looking forward to rest. Pip carefully disengaged from the ship’s computer, a sensation he said left him rather empty. Aaron and Minu had to almost carry him to his cabin, the effort exhausting him more than he’d expected. He’d left the Steward behind to mind the ship, keeping a careful eye on basic systems and their course. “I’m sure it’s safe to do that much,” he assured her.

  What he didn’t know was his meddling with the two programs went even farther than had Bjorn’s. Some of the ship’s deep logic arrays were disturbed, and carefully hidden defensive programs were awakened. They silently prowled the synaptic pathways of the computer, examining what had been done, and found it only slightly above acceptable. The same programs were confused by the lack of orders for the ship, or any contact with command. Finding no master control program, they were unable to make their own decisions in how to deal with this. So the Medical Intelligence was tweaked by adding a routine or two, and the security programs went back into hiding.

  “Determine the intent of the biological operators,” the Medical Intelligence was ordered. “A new directive is added to establish a proper biological operator by any reasonable means possible.” The program considered that last part for some seconds. In deep space and with no sign of any other ships, how exactly was it to procure proper operators? The recent patient had been modified to act as a partial operator, but the damage done precluded a complete modification. Still, a directive is a directive.

  The next day they worked with Pip to have the ship begin to synthesize foods that they were more accustomed to. It was not perfect, but the hamburgers tasted pretty good, even if the fries were strangely spicy. The water was always cold and plentiful. Pip got a little better as the second day progressed. He still occasionally said something inappropriate, but when it was pointed out the incident wasn’t repeated. Minu thought it was a little like instructing a child how to act with adults around.

  After lunch they gathered in the CIC and observed their path on a map of the galaxy. To actually see them move in real time, if only at a snail’s pace, and considering the scale of the map, was an amazing thing. It usually only took a couple of hours for them to transact through a star system. Pip said they were invisible to anyone; even should they be only a few clicks away as the Kaatan went by. But there was little chance of that, the Gravitic Lens Drive, or GLD as they were calling it, was not friendly to large gravity wells. Pip, Bjorn and Ted all agreed that the results of a close encounter between a fully powered GLD and even a modest sized planet would be mutually cataclysmic.

  “So how did they move fleets of these ships?” Minu asked. “You couldn’t do even squadron sized engagements for fear of blowing each other up just by being too close!”

  “That’s what the Tactical drive was for,” he told her.
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  “How does it work?”

  “I have no idea; it’s the only drive system with no information uploaded at all. At least, not that I’ve found yet.”

  Minu had a really good idea how it might work, but like her sudden knowledge of ancient Concordia scrip, it wasn’t something she was interested in sharing just yet. “If we're going to be gone a few years, we need to stop at a world and use its Portal to call home. We're probably already in deep shit for running off, at least we can let them know what we've managed to do.”

  “Probably better tell them about all the snakes we blew to hell too,” Aaron suggested.

  “Yeah, and that.”

  Ted and Bjorn were at their stations, both with tablets in hand, entering data from the Chosen database. As they worked, little golden points of light appeared on the map showing known Portals. Where they matched with green points of light, Portals from the ships memory, they then glowed blue. The project took several hours and resulted in roughly half the green points changing to blue. When they were finished, only three points glowed gold. “What systems are those?” Minu asked.

  Pip was sitting in a normal chair now, eyes open and alert. This degree of interaction didn't seem to require him to go into a trance like it did yesterday. Three new screens appeared and as he described them each one came alive with images. “The first is Bellatrix,” he said and their world orbited its red dwarf sun.

  “So the Portal there is new?” Aaron asked.

  “Only newer than this ship,” Pip explained. “And since the ship was sitting there for at least a million years, I wouldn't call that new.” Aaron nodded grudgingly. “The second is designated by us as Deep Blue.”

  “We use it for training all the time,” said Minu. “The Tog showed it to us back when we first went into their service.” All the human crews were familiar with the planet. They considered it a junk pile, hospitable climate but picked mostly clean with just remnants of cities to see. “We always figured the ruins were as old as this ship, but I guess not.”

  The third screen came alive with an image of a world none of the humans could fail to identify instantly. The blue sphere of Earth rotated with its yellow sun in the background. “I didn't even think not to enter that one, sorry,” Bjorn apologized.

  “Don't be,” Minu told him as they all regarded the world of their species birth.

  “Is that where humans evolved?” Var'at asked. Minu nodded. “It is a very wet world. Rare to find a planet with that much water. We would not have been as happy there.”

  Ted chuckled. “If it wasn't for a lucky asteroid, we would have probably evolved to look like you. Reptiles ruled the world for hundreds of millions of years before that.”

  “Then another asteroid killed us,” Pip spoke up, “that's irony for you.”

  All the humans were looking at the blue planet, so none of them noticed Var'at exchange glances with his men. An unspoken statement passed between them ending with Var'at snapping his jaws shut in an explicit order to be quiet. “We are fugitives already,” he hissed in a whisper, “we will not add violation of the highest Concordia laws to that!” While his words had been far below the human’s ability to hear them, they weren't below the threshold of the CICs auditory sensors. It was dutifully recorded and logged away.

  Minu finally had to break the long silence. “So what is the closest world with a confirmed Portal?”

  “Planet designated as Ragnarök,” Pip said, “two hundred, twenty-nine light years.”

  “Not a good choice,” Aaron said with a shake of his head. “Besides being as cold as a deep freeze, it’s in contention by the Mok-Tok.”

  “That's a 'no' for Ragnarök,” said Minu. “How about a neutral world?”

  “Checking.” The lights flashed on the screen, the green trace of their course toward Bellatrix deviating this way and that until settling on only a slight detour. “Planet designated as Midnight, two hundred eight light years distant. ETA would be thirty-four days.”

  Minu thought about it for a second then nodded her head. “Brown dwarf system, not as cold as you'd expect because of planetary volcanism. Not even a junk pile, really, only danger is it’s commonly used as a transit point by many alien scout teams. Adjust the course.”

  Aaron entered the adjustments and the course line settled on the big galaxy map. “Time passage on Bellatrix will be approximately forty days.”

  “That's not too bad,” said Minu. “So all we have to do is find ways to amuse ourselves for a month.” Some of them smiled, others shrugged. A month wasn't very long.

  “And then a couple years after that to get home,” Aaron pointed out, and the smiles faded.

  “Everyone should compose a vid-mail for their friends and family. I'll take care of the council of course. Var'at, you will want to touch base with your people so they know you're okay.” The Rasa nodded in understanding. “In the meantime, let’s see if we can devise a schedule to begin getting a hand on controlling this ship we've got here, and understanding what makes it tick.”

  Chapter 5

  January 19th, 522 AE

  Conference Room, Interspecies Diplomacy Center, Nexus

  Tak'la paced the small conference room nervously, appearing to contemplate the floor carefully as he moved back and forth over and over again. A trio of aides all occupied desks, tablets arrayed before them filled with vital data that had thus far proven completely worthless. He'd come with his aides to Nexus for a quick meeting, that was a week ago. Day after day he would arrive, spend most of the day waiting, and be eventually told by a bot to leave and return the next day. A bot, not even a living representative. In addition to his anger at being dealt with by a non-living rep was a gnawing fear of what was going on behind the scenes.

  Nearly a year ago he'd reached a deal with the Tanam to destroy the treasonous humans. It cost him a great deal, but he'd left with the knowledge that the annoying hominids would be a bloody mess after the felines mauled them. The Tanam had fought a brief skirmish against the Beezer, servants of the Tog who were themselves masters of the humans. Tak'la was sure it was part of the Tanam strategy to get at the humans themselves. It seemed to have worked because the Tog unleashed the humans on the Tanam. The details of what occurred on Serengeti were difficult to uncover. It took him months of careful research and bribes to learn that the humans kicked the shit out of the much more powerful Tanam so decisively that the Tanam had yet to renew their efforts. It was this fact that brought Tak'la to request a meeting to get an update on Tanam efforts to punish the humans. He'd paid well and was tired of their delays.

  Once again the hour was drawing late. Tak'la was expecting the now ubiquitous bot to show up any moment and was wondering if he should just return home when one of his aides looked up from his tablet with alarm. “Supreme leader!”

  “Yes, speak, what is it?”

  “We are being summoned before a high order council meeting.”

  Tak'la froze in his pacing, confusion filling his mind and fear chilling his blood. You weren't simply summoned to a council meeting, it was often a process that took weeks, or even months and was consumed with ritual. His mind spun trying to guess what was going on behind the scenes while he was kept in a box here waiting for a meeting that obviously was never going to take place. “Gather your equipment,” he told them as he went to the small storage area of the conference room and opened his diplomatic case. Inside were packed all the trappings for a representative of a species; formal robe adorned with stripes representing his species order of ascension, formal armor with weapon, a few dozen odds and ends and carefully concealed in a secret compartment a pair of data chips containing carefully hidden accounts holding considerable assets of his species.

  It took a long minute of agonizing before he settled on the armor and weapon. To be summoned before a higher order council meeting demanded he respond as the military leader of his people. At the last minute he left the expensive compact beamcaster pistol in the case and instead strapped a thin
bladed sword on. As he finished locking the armor in place his three aides all looked on nervously. None of them ever attended such a meeting of the galaxy’s power holders.

  The trip by flier took only minutes, depositing them in the boughs of the huge Seat of Power, a building made to look like a crystalline tree. As they landed they were met by a pair of spider bots, a rare model only seen commonly on Nexus and used as diplomatic messengers. “Rasa delegation, follow us,” instructed the bot. Tak'la gave himself a quick once over to verify his condition then gestured for his aides to follow him before dropping in behind the two bots.

  Unlike his previous trips to the Seat of Power, they traveled deep into the tree and then were ushered into a huge domed chamber made of the same crystal as the rest of the structure. At one end were the councilors, three pedestals growing up from the floor to support the representative and his delegation with a fourth massive column growing up behind the three that went all the way to the distant ceiling. To Tak'la it looked like a living tree branch, or root running through the ceiling above. With a sinking feeling he realized this wasn't some council antechamber, this was the grand chamber of the Concordia. Legend said this was where the Lost first created the vast empire, millions of years ago. The species of the Rasa didn't rate a space at the rear of the chamber, even though there was room for uncountable thousands.

  The bot left them off near the center of the floor, only meters from the towering councilor pedestals. Through an effect of light and angles, anyone near those pedestals was always made to feel that they were looking straight up at those occupying them. Tak'la looked up to find the pedestals already occupied.

  “The high council of the Concordia stands in representation in memory of the Lost Creators,” echoed the crystal halls. The feeling of foreboding was like a physical pressure in Tak'la's chest. On the pedestal were councilors of three of the five high order species of the Concordia, a huge hairy Mok-Tok, an amphibian Gulla in its hovering ball of water, and a Tog. At the last Tak'la knew his people’s fate was sealed. Missing were the Tanam and worse, the T'Chillen, the only fellow reptile on the council.