The Island on the Edge of Forever (The Epic of Aravinda Book 2) (5 page)

Finally, his hand touched the panel, and the door slid apart. He propelled himself forward again, flying toward the back of the command chair before grabbing onto the armrest and spinning himself around to sit down.

Once situated, the situation became simple. Overlaid on his vision were five red indicators, all emerging out from a single point, and Zahn directed the overlay system to hone in on the origin of the craft. At first he could find nothing unusual, but when he shifted beyond ultraviolet to gamma, he clearly saw the shape of a small vortex within the planet’s rings.

He almost asked Navika what the odds were of a second vortex in the area, but caught himself. Either Navika couldn’t hear him or wouldn’t respond. Zahn wasn’t sure which.

Yantrik only ever mentioned the marauders coming out of a single wormhole, so this must be it. Now was his chance. He knew what he had to do, and he sped toward the vortex as fast as the impulse drive could take him. After all, this was what he’d come here for.

The marauders wouldn’t know what hit them.

CHAPTER
6

A SHEER CACOPHONOUS NOISE

Zahn took a deep breath.

The last time he jumped into a wormhole, his entire life had flashed before his eyes. He’d been convinced he had died. It wasn’t an experience he would ever forget.

The Tulari was still nestled within the braided cables of the central node, and he knew what it was capable of. The Tulari couldn’t help but seal up the wormhole. It was its purpose.

Zahn directed the ship to the center of the wormhole and pushed it to a fantastic speed.

Once again, the space around the ship stretched and twisted. The roar behind him grew louder.

He counted down again. “Three…” This was the moment. “Two…” Two birds with one stone. “One…”

His mind and the roar became one, and he studied the twisting wormhole ahead of the ship. Unblinking in his white-hot determination, he flew into the swirling sphere and vanished.

A sheer cacophonous noise erupted into his ears as his awareness touched the source of infinite light. Below him, he saw the wormhole fold up like a flower blooming in reverse.

At last, the wormhole was gone. The Tulari had patched the tear in space.

A perfect silence.

The silence had a peculiar nullifying quality to it that invaded his senses. He was so loved and so cherished, even if he didn’t consciously realize it. Everything he had done, self-serving and others-serving, brought him to this point. He found himself in the midst of a pristine immaculateness.

The music returned, music that he could never fully describe. He looked all around, floating in the midst of a pure brilliance.

“Tulari, are you there?” Zahn managed to say. “I guess I don’t remember how to—” He stopped. “What was I saying again?”

Using the Tulari had brought him to timespace, the inverse reality to spacetime, just as before. After all, this realm was where the Tulari truly did its work. The experience of timespace felt unusually disorienting to Zahn, and he found himself having trouble placing where he was, or more precisely, when he was, in the midst of it all.

“Tulari, where are you? Why don’t I see you?”

Far off in the brilliance, he saw a pulse of light which transformed itself into a thump thump thumping in his chest. He’d met the Tulari before, and it wasn’t like this. The pulse grew nearer. It looked like what he remembered, except that now the orb of the Tulari was glowing red.

“Zahn, why?” Its red orb filled his view. “Why have you dishonored your friends who love you so?”

“What?” Zahn said, his mouth agape. “What are you talking about? I solved a huge problem. Once I flew us into the wormhole, you sealed it up forever. The marauders will no longer be able to come through, and Asha won’t have to worry about the Outpost Ring anymore. She’s important to me, Tulari. I’ve never met anyone like her.”

The orb grew lighter. “It is true. You have used my form to seal up the wormhole, just as you have used Navika to come here. As the preserver of the integrity of the warp and the weft of spacetime, I cannot help but heal its wounds. Yet your motives are mixed, and you deceived Asha.”

“What do you mean?”

The Tulari pulsed red again. “You have taken Navika, against his will, to this place. And you have left them in secret.”

“I don’t see how that’s deceiving.”

“Every act that blocks love is a deception.”

Zahn sighed. “Look, I’m sorry I took the ship. I thought I was doing the right thing. I want Asha to feel she can move to Avani without worrying so much, but I also came here to find out what happened to Oonak. Last time I was here, you said you couldn’t show me anything that happened after the moment I arrived. And I understood. I still do, but some time has passed. Can you show me what has happened now?”

“I will not. You are under a free will violation, and because of this, I will not share any further information with you.”

“What? You won’t show me anything? Look, I don’t know if you understand, but Oonak isn’t just my friend. He’s crucially important. He’s part of the Confederation, the only organized opponent to the Vakragha, who are most likely going to consume the entire galaxy if we don’t do something about it. Don’t you remember all that? Don’t you care?”

“Calm yourself and use this time to reflect on your actions. This cycle is now complete.”

“What? So what am I supposed to do now? We need Oonak!”

“Reflect.”

The Tulari zoomed up and touched Zahn’s third eye; and everything around him blended together as his perspective grew unstable and his thoughts melted away.

CHAPTER
7

STEALTH PROTOCOL

A quiet whistling sound filled Mira’s ears, and she slowly opened her eyes and sat up. As she did this, the back of the command chair followed her body, resuming its upright position, and all around her, the spherical room brightened.

She paused, noticing that she could see a miniature version of herself, a petite yet strong woman wearing a silvery-violet uniform covering her from head to toe, reflected back to her in the mirrored bulkhead which curved up and around to form the ceiling. Only a few strands of her golden hair peeked through the glossy mindcap of the suit.

With the merest blink of her grey-blue eyes, the curving bulkhead in front of her disappeared, and all at once the grandeur of the cosmos was spread out before her.

“Mira-mira, the survey you ordered is now complete. I’ve detected five timespace signatures in this system. Exciting place! Like somebody had a party. I also made a fractal out of the orbit harmonics.”

It struck Mira how absurd it was that a reconnaissance ship would have such a whimsical and quirky voice, but obviously the council didn’t think it was a problem. If anyone had asked Mira, she would have pointed it out, but no one had. This time though, the starship had gone too far.

“I told you not to say my name twice like that, Liila. Do it again, and I’ll disable your vocal subroutine. And I am not joking this time.”

“Yes, captain. I apologize. I was simply experimenting with humor. Recently, I have been reading reports that suggest the more evolved an entity is, the better sense of humor it has. Many exobiologists are now supporting this theory. Isn’t that interesting?”

Mira blinked and remained silent. She was in no mood to discuss theory. Five timespace signatures meant this place was far more active than it should be. The situation was even worse than she had thought.

The ship continued.
“Anyway, as I was saying. There are—”

“Five, I know. Sounds like we found the place. Can you make any inferences about their origin? The loss of the outermost planet could complicate matters.”

“Four of them match a vanguard-class vessel. Redolent! The other is inconclusive. Stale cracker.”

“Transfer the readings to my mindcap and standby. And please Liila, stop comparing sensor results to wetware sensory experiences. They are not the same.”

“Why not? You have your senses. I have mine. No different!”

Mira was silent.

“I’m sorry. Yes, captain, and was your sleep cycle rejuvenating?”

“I do not feel rejuvenated. That would imply that I feel good. Right now, I just want to find them.”

A holographic image of a ten planet system appeared in the air front of Mira, and she inspected it carefully. Three timespace signatures were near the remnants of the outermost planet, now reduced to a collection of drifting debris, one was near the third planet, and the last was just above the third planet’s surface, which intrigued her.

Mira closed her eyes and meditated on her decision.

“Run cloak risk-factor calculations on the safest approach vector to the third planet and engage at full impulse.”

“Risk-factor calculations are nominal. We are now on approach.”

As they made their approach, the ship’s trajectory curved slightly, and the stars crept by. After a while, Mira noticed that Liila had used her interactive photic hull to mark a faint halo around a few nearby planets, which slowly moved into view as they grew closer.

Mira watched the distance indicator as the number plunged ever closer to zero. A feeling of impatience threatened to overtake her. This voyage had taken altogether too long, mostly because of the strict stealth protocol that the Confederation now required. And Liila’s idiosyncrasies made the voyage out to the fourth band even more tiring.

At last, she could now make out tiny archipelagoes and small continents on the planet ahead, and it crossed her mind how much attention this world had gotten lately, all because of a freak accident. Surely, the Dominion was threatening dozens of other worlds with a similar fate. Why did the Confederation care so much about this one? She realized that she’d never even considered asking before. To question the authority of the Sumanas High Command was simply not something a captain did unless she had a good reason.

Mira sat in silence, admiring the world as they grew nearer. The data archives had given her a good idea of what all of the planets in this system looked like, but it hadn’t done justice to the view. As their altitude dropped, Mira noticed how a wealth of ocean ruled most of the surface.

The archipelagoes enchanted her. Some were clustered around the edges of continents, and some, such as the one she was headed toward, were stranded out in the middle of the ocean. As they approached, she gasped at a remarkable feature of the planet: its forests were varying shades of radiant blue.

“Remarkable,” she said, to no one in particular.

She had been told about this curious aberration, of course, but to be told and to behold were two very different things to Mira, and she found herself unable to speak as the archipelago grew nearer. They passed over a silvery beach and sapphire treetops, and she noticed one of the nearby towering peaks, which appeared volcanic in origin.

Just as she was about to ask Liila if she’d detected any volcanic activity in the area, the ship came to a halt.

Above, Mira noticed that the clouds were gathering.

“Traces of a timespace jump are just below. A craft emerged from here a few days ago; however, I detect no signs of any Confederation vessels nearby, and none are responding over covert frequencies. It’s also highly unusual that the exit point of a timespace jump should be so near to the surface of the planet.”

“Precisely. I do not think a normal timespace jump brought them here, Liila. Halt all transmissions. Even covert frequencies are too dangerous on this hatchling world. Life signs and population report?”

“Four inhabitants within 100 meters. Total island population roughly 50,000. Difficult to confirm as this island has multiple vortex nodes within it. Oh, and you also might want to know that one of the four nearby inhabitants is currently walking away from us, toward a structure to the East.”

“Fantastic,” she said flatly. “Is it possible they heard us?”

“No. Acoustic dampeners were active once we entered the atmosphere. We are directly over a path covered by the forest canopy.”

“All right. Take us down as quietly as possible.”

Although no one could see it, Liila’s perfectly spherical shape slipped through the forest canopy in relative silence, and soon they were just above the forest path.

“Magnify.”

Liila magnified her view so that Mira could easily see who was farther down the path. It was a young woman who was wearing a white jumpsuit and stopping periodically. She appeared to be talking to herself.

Mira’s eyes narrowed on the woman. “And you are sure that this place is our target?”

“99.999% sure, yes.”

“That is only five nines. Next time, I want six.”

“Captain, sometimes it’s not possible to—”

“Six, Liila. It is a good goal. Work on it.”

Mira flew the command chair from its normal position in the center of the sphere to a circular door behind her and pressed three of her fingers to a part of the wall. A door slid open, revealing a buffer room that surrounded the inner spherical room. From here, she could use the maintenance grips to climb around on any part of the inner sphere. Of course, doing such work was much easier in zero gravity.

She took a moment to admire the eccentric, inward-curving walls of the buffer room before grabbing her boots from a bag hanging beside some void suits. Working with her shoes off felt much better to her, and it took a good deal of negotiation before the High Council would let her do it on long range missions.

“Protocol,” she said aloud, as if the word itself were profanity.

Once her boots were on, she pressed her fingers to another pad, and the door behind her hissed closed. A fraction of a second later, the door ahead of her rolled open, revealing a narrow, pebbled path that led deeper into the forest.

With care, Mira set her feet onto the path. Behind her, what appeared to be a doorway into nowhere hung in the air until the door rolled shut, and no trace of Liila was left. Her cloaking field was perfect.

Mira looked up the path. The figure had since escaped from view, making her nervous. As she jogged up the path, Mira wondered how much she would stand out on this world. If she recalled correctly, the silvery uniforms had been a matter of some debate. But it had been decided that since the reflective material could be used to reflect excess heat, as well as having other useful properties, that function took precedent over appearance. And it was with great pleasure that she had infused amethyst into the upper layer of her uniform, giving it a hue that was unique among the reconnaissance division.

Ahead, the path curved to the right, and Mira saw the woman again, farther up. Above, the clouds were growing dark, and Mira looked down at her wristcomm and considered calling the ship. Why hadn’t Liila reminded her about the potential rain? Five nines would never be enough.

“Heyo!” Mira called out to the woman, waving to her. “May I speak with you?”

The woman turned around and studied her.

Mira jogged up to her, noticing the loop of silvery metal around the woman’s wrist. “I am Mira of the Confederation of Unity. You are wearing one of our wristcomms. Are you Asha?”

“Hello.” The woman studied her. “Is this about Oonak?”

“Yes!” Mira’s eyes flashed with excitement. “And much more.” She paused as she studied this surprisingly informed young woman. “You are Asha, are you not?”

“Yes.” Asha’s eyes narrowed. “And you said you’re Mira?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know Oonak?”

Asha examined Mira’s features. Her milky skin stood out in contrast against everyone else she’d seen on Avani. Asha guessed that Mira was about as old as she was, but there was something indeterminate about her age, too. Asha noticed a holster built into the suit near the waist.

“If you met Oonak,” Mira replied, “you would already know that there are restrictions on what I can tell someone from a Hatchling World such as this.”

“But I’m not an Avanian. And if you know who I am, shouldn’t you already know that?” Asha’s suspicion was growing by the minute.

“You worry too much.” Mira furrowed her eyebrows. “And revealing certain knowledge to your people before they are ready could disrupt your natural development. If I were you, I would not be surprised if I was from the same place Oonak was. Now, where are the others?”

A thunderclap snapped in the air high above them, and tiny raindrops sprinkled down as Asha stared at her in silence.

“If you have any doubts, here is my Confederation insignia.” Mira removed a small, metallic object from the collar of her uniform and held it in front of Asha’s face. “Do you see the tiny white gem in the center?”

Asha leaned in. “I think… yes, I see it.”

“See how it hovers in place? Only those in the Confederation have an insignia such as this.”

When Asha looked closer, she had to admit that the gem wasn’t touching anything. It was held in place within a hollow point in the center of the insignia, between the curving rings.

“Wow. But how is that possible?”

“Superposition; I am not allowed to explain further.” Mira looked up to the darkening clouds and took a quick breath. “All you need to know right now is that I have a message of great importance, so unless you want me to go off and try to find Oonak on my own, I suggest you take me to your friends.”

“Okay, okay. Are you always so impatient?”

“I am not impatient; I am efficient. Are you always so distrusting? I knew who you were. I have shown my credentials, yet you still do not seem to relax. Is everyone on this planet as distrustful as you?”

“I’m sorry, Mira. I just, I had a bad day, and I might as well tell you since you know about us.” Asha sighed. “Zahn left. He took the ship, and he left. I haven’t told the others yet. I’ve been pacing up and down this path trying to figure out the best way to tell them. I feel like I should have done something.” Asha gazed into Mira’s grey-blue eyes. “Mira, I feel like it’s my fault.”

Mira put her arm on Asha’s shoulder, her gaze softening. “It is not your fault. He has embarked upon his own path. Now please take me to the others. There is a much more important mission at hand, and we are running out of time.”