Scrapyard Ship 3 Space Vengeance Page 5

  “How much time do we have?”

  “A week, maybe two.”

  Jason thought about that. “You mentioned the Alliance is rebuilding. What are we talking about? How many vessels?”

  “Maybe five hundred, give or take,” the admiral replied.

  Jason looked back at his father and then at the others around the table. “Against fifteen hundred Craing warships, three of which are Dreadnaught class vessels?”

  Ben Walker ground the stub of his cigar into an oversized ashtray. “Captain, this is an all or nothing situation. If we can defeat them here, we’ll rid Alliance space of the Craing well into the next century. What we need is your input on how we can accomplish this.”

  Jason knew exactly what they were asking of him. They wanted The Lilly back in the fight. “Even with The Lilly, we’re in no position to take on that fleet.”

  “We were already counting on The Lilly, Captain. We should also make every effort to acquire the new technology that Granger and his people possess. That could be a deciding factor, no?”

  “Perhaps we can make it worth their while; what can we offer them?” Vice Admiral Brightman asked.

  “There’s little the Caldurians seem to need from us. Although their disdain for the Craing is evident, I can’t say to what lengths they’ll go to help us. I’m sure I’ll be seeing Granger again soon. I’ll keep you all up to date on what transpires.”

  Jason had the feeling that the men in this room were under the illusion that they’d be able to muster an adequate defense. He pushed his chair out to stand, then added, “The truth is, I think we need to be prepared for the worst. With fifteen hundred warships, even with help from the Alliance, I’m sorry but I don’t see how we can defeat the Craing. Not this time.”

  The room went quiet, the men obviously sobered by Jason’s comment.

  Jason’s father added, “If the Craing are victorious, we should be prepared. They’ll be heading for Earth wanting to finish what they’d started. My suggestion—contact other world leaders, tell them to prepare as best they can for an alien incursion.”

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 6

  The smaller of the two rhinos, Walks With Limp, grabbed Traveler’s feet and hefted them to his midsection. Rustling Leaves, one of the rhino warriors that had been watching the battle from the side-lines, now stood at Traveler’s shoulders, hesitated, and then bent down to inspect Traveler’s wound. It was serious, but his friend was not dead, at least not yet. Rustling Leaves had watched Traveler take down three of the strongest warriors, only to be struck with a cowardly hit from behind.

  Three Horns watched from across the camp. His irritation was clearly evident by a growing number of snorts and huffs—a misty spray of snot shot in Rustling Leaves’ direction.

  “You will do as I say or face his same fate,” Three Horns barked.

  Rustling Leaves did not acknowledge the older rhino’s words. Instead, he looked to the others. Slowly, one by one, making eye contact with each. Nearly imperceptibly, each conveyed their intention with the slightest movements of their large heads. Each had nodded toward Rustling Leaves—each agreed to stand at his side. The tribe of rhinos converged on the leader.

  Three Horns’ death was quick and honorable. His heavy hammer would be saved and given to his offspring. His body was thrown onto the fire and prayers were spoken aloud.

  Rustling Leaves knew Traveler had little chance of survival. He would need help from the strange-colored being, the one called Dira.

  “Take Traveler to his dome,” Rustling Leaves said. “I will bring help.”

  * * *

  Jack and Mollie were having one of their many heated discussions. Jack wanted her to finish her daily chores in the Zoo, while Mollie would have preferred to go into HAB 4 and play with Alice, her drog, a dog-like creature brought back from HAB 12. Impertinent, hands on hips, Mollie was making a stand. But it was Rustling Leaves’ shadow farther down the corridor that caught her attention. Jack turned to see what Mollie was looking at, then scurried over to see what the large beast wanted. Jack was reluctant to unlock the portal into the habitat without Captain Reynolds’ permission, but something was wrong. The rhino needed help. Jack input the necessary keystrokes and the portal opened.

  “We need the one you call Dira.”

  “What’s wrong? Who’s sick?” Mollie asked, looking up at the large beast in front of her.

  “It is Traveler. Hit in the head with a heavy hammer.”

  * * *

  In addition to Dira, both Ricket and the captain had been notified. The three now moved quickly into the rhino encampment. At the entrance to one of the large mud-packed domes, Rustling Leaves waved them over. Jason was the last to enter the dome and it took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the dark. A small fire burned in the middle of the room, its smoke leisurely rising up, disappearing into a small opening high above. Dira and Ricket were kneeling at Traveler’s side and speaking in hushed voices. They went to work.

  Jason approached Rustling Leaves. “What the hell happened?”

  “Our leader, Three Horns, and three others attacked Traveler.”

  “Why? I thought Traveler was respected—”

  “Three Horns feared Traveler and no longer wished to be confined in a habitat. Time to return home to mates and offspring. Was planning to take ship back home.”

  “Why didn’t Three Horns, or any of you, just come to me? I know it’s taken longer than I’d hoped, but we will get you home. I’ve promised that much.”

  “At a high cost, Captain. Few of us remain. But Three Horns lives no more.”

  “Was that your doing?” Jason asked.

  “Yes. Traveler should have been our leader long before this. But Three Horns was not entirely wrong, either.”

  Ricket stood up and joined Jason and Rustling Leaves. Dira, still at Traveler’s side, continued to attend to the rhino’s wound. Now, up on all fours, she reached across his chest, wiping blood from his face. As if knowing Jason was watching her, she glanced back over her shoulder. She furrowed her brow at Jason and quickly moved to the rhino’s other side.

  “Oh … No, I wasn’t looking at—”

  Dira wasn’t listening, busy wrapping gauze around Traveler’s head.

  Embarrassed, Jason felt his face flush. She can’t believe I’d be checking out her backside; not at a time like this, he thought. Or was I?

  “Captain,” Ricket said, taking his attention off an awkward situation.

  “Yes, um, what’s going on with Traveler?”

  “His wounds are serious. He’s hemorrhaging into his brain.”

  “Is there anything we can do? Perhaps take him to Medical?”

  “He is far too large to fit into a MediPod. That would be his only chance of survival.”

  “Can you make a bigger MediPod, one that would fit a rhino?”

  “I’ve already thought of that. The rhinos’ physiology is not contained within The Lilly’s medical database,” Ricket answered.

  They both spoke at the same time: “The Caldurian ship!”

  “Yes, I will check. Ensure his head remains stable, the environment quiet.” Ricket hurried from the dome.

  “I must attend to my duties, Captain,” Rustling Leaves said. With that, Jason was alone with Dira and Traveler. He watched her work. With her eyes looking down, her long lashes were even more accentuated. He was staring again. He quickly looked away. It was obvious. Dira, this Dira, was no more in love with him than she was with Ricket or Traveler. Jason quietly cursed to himself … that damn portal. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

  “Can you hand me my kit, Captain?”

  Startled, Jason looked down at his feet and found the medical bag she’d brought with her. He handed it to her. “I’ll leave you alone. Let me know if you need anything.”

  Jason stood and turned toward the dome’s entrance.

  “How’s your research going?” she asked, her voice no more than a whisper.


  Jason stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Research?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “Courting a Jhardian girl? Or perhaps you’ve forgotten.”

  “Oh, I see. You’ve been fucking with me.”

  When he left the dome, he didn’t need to turn around to know she was smiling.

  * * *

  Jason entered Deck 4B via the DeckPort. It was where The Lilly’s phase-synthesizer unit churned out a myriad of things, from weapons armament munitions to new technological prototypes—all of which were pulled from alternate slices of the multiverse. And it was here that Ricket spent much of his time when not on duty.

  The phase-synthesizer was doing something, and making more than a little noise in the process. A new MediPod device, significantly larger than those in Medical, stood off to the side. It looked to be nearly complete.

  Expecting to see Ricket alone sitting at his workbench, Jason was surprised to see both Granger and Ricket sitting at the bench together, with a 3D hologram of something floating several inches above the bench.

  Granger’s expression changed when he saw Jason approach.

  “I did not drop by uninvited, Captain.”

  Ricket momentarily looked up, then continued with what he was doing. “Captain, development of a new, substantially larger MediPod was far more involved than I had estimated. With the help of Granger, not only did we produce the necessary MediPod configuration, but he has offered to assist in the overall retrofitting of The Lilly with the more advanced technology found on the Caldurian ship.”

  Jason tried to keep his face neutral, keeping his growing irritation and distrust hidden from the tall Caldurian. “I still would like to know ahead of time when non-crewmembers are coming on board,” Jason said sternly.

  “Yes, Captain, that was my mistake,” Ricket replied, now looking up at Jason.

  Jason turned his attention to Granger. “Don’t interpret this as my not being appreciative of any help you can offer us. But I’m still not clear what your motivations are.”

  “Only time will tell, Captain. Rest assured, though: defeating the Craing is paramount to both our people’s wellbeing. As you learned while meeting with the Joint Chiefs and Secretary of Defense Walker, you have little time to prepare for the approaching Craing fleet.”

  How would he know that? Jason thought to himself. His mind flashed back to the smoke-filled conference room. There had been a junior officer standing in the wings, refreshing drinks and lighting cigars.

  “Do I have to put a bell around your neck, Granger? What don’t you understand about uninvited eavesdropping?”

  “You were specific to this vessel; you never mentioned anything about the outpost,” Granger said innocently.

  Jason knew there was little he could do to keep the Caldurian representative from prying where he wasn’t welcome. The fact of the matter was the Caldurians were substantially more advanced, and keeping them at arm’s length was probably an act of futility.

  “So what are we doing here? What is that thing?” Jason asked, gesturing toward the virtual object hovering above the bench.

  “This is what the Craing have been looking for. What they referred to as the source, but we refer to it as the interchange.”

  Jason moved in closer, but stood back again when Granger simply expanded the virtual model out several more feet.

  “That looks more organic than any kind of technology.”

  “What you’re seeing is only one small aspect of the interchange. Constantly moving, it spreads itself across the multiverse, having the ability to keep a foot in multiple-time references and phased-dimensional realities at once.”

  “You talk about it as if it’s a being. So it’s not technology based?” Jason asked.

  Granger smiled at this. “You’ll find that the lines differentiating things technologically- developed and things that are organically produced become more and more blurred with advanced cultures. To be honest, we don’t know what this interchange truly is. We do know that it doesn’t eat and drink or sleep like typical organic beings. We do know it builds relationships and provides access to wormhole travel to those with whom it has connections.”

  “What does that even mean? Like to its friends?”

  Granger smiled. “For hundreds of years now my people have moved about the universe through the aid of the interchange. Most definitely ours is a symbiotic, friendship-based relationship.”

  “How does that work? What does the interchange get in return?”

  “When the time comes, when you wish to build your own relationship with it, that will be made apparent. But as part of our agreement, it is not something I am free to discuss.”

  “Seriously? I find this all a bit hard to believe …” Jason said.

  Granger did not reply and simply nodded his head.

  “Okay, so how do you contact it when you want to utilize the wormhole capability?”

  “A simple request. One that is formatted specifically with the desired in-and-out point coordinates, along with other crucial information. The request is sent through something similar to—but much more efficient than—your FTL-type communications. In this case, it’s instantaneous. Just one of the locations, among many, where this information can be directed to is here, deep within Earth’s crust.”

  “I guess that explains why the three Caldurian ships, the ones appropriated by the Craing to form the Emperor’s Guard, were scouring our planet. Seems they already knew much of this.”

  “They were wasting their time. The interchange is quite particular about who will be allowed access. The Craing have proven to be brutal and selfish. Not unlike governments on your own planet.”

  “So we are to be denied access to—”

  “No, Captain. Although you have exhibited a higher degree of violence than the interchange, as well as the Caldurians, would prefer, the simple fact that you yourself have withheld certain technologies from your government speaks volumes,” Granger said. “So, with the Caldurians acting as a go-between, I have little doubt you’ll be granted access to the interchange.”

  Ah, so there it is, Jason thought. Granger, and the Caldurians, would be acting as a go-between, which really meant they could maintain control.

  Granger continued, “One more thing, Jason. You are under the assumption that the Craing Loop has been destroyed. That the Craing worlds will no longer be sending their fleet of warships to these sectors of the universe.”

  Stunned, Jason didn’t respond.

  “I’m sorry, but you are mistaken. In less than three of your months, the Craing will again have the capability to travel to the far reaches of the universe. Even without access to the interchange.”

  “No. That’s not possible. I witnessed it myself; those sub-stations on Halimar were totally destroyed.”

  “What you didn’t know was that their science had already progressed to the point that soon they would no longer need those archaic planetary sub-stations. In fact, the Craing had already started tests on a significantly smaller, more powerful, and far more accurate space-based laser platform system. Your actions merely accelerated the testing and production of their new Loop program.”

  Feeling defeated, Jason’s shoulders sank. So many had died in that mission across HAB 12 and onto Halimar. Was there truly no way to stop the Craing?

  “And what of the rebellion, the uprising on the Craing worlds?” Jason asked.

  Granger’s expression, if possible, looked even more dire. “After your attack on Halimar, the Craing Empire’s military mobilized. Anyone suspected of taking part in the rebellion, and I’m talking many thousands here, were publicly executed.”

  Jason’s mind flashed to Gaddy, the young, idealistic Craing dissident who had helped transport them on Halimar. Had she and her friends been among those executed?

  “So, yes,” Granger continued, “the rebellion has been quelled for now. But discord is building. More than ever the people of the Craing wor
lds yearn for the kind of independence they see exists here on Earth. Another uprising is coming, Jason. Will it triumph? It’s hard to say.”