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Authors: Valmore Daniels

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3

Escape
Pod :

Sol
System :

Michael was the
first to return to consciousness.

It took a long time for him to orient himself. There were no
interior lights inside the escape pod, but he could still breathe air. He moved
his leg, and pain from his bruised knee coursed up through his body. He tried
to bite back a cry, but it came out anyway.

Grimacing until the pain subsided, Michael took a deep
breath and reached out beside him. His hand touched Kenny’s shoulder, and he
gently shook the physicist.

“Kenny, are you all right?”

A low-pitched moan came out of the younger man, and when
Kenny spoke, it was with obvious effort. “It’s hard to breathe.”

“Hold still. Don’t move. If you’ve broken a rib, the last
you want is for it to puncture your lung.”

He reached out in the other direction and felt Yaxche’s
hair. Moving his hand down to the older man’s neck, he felt for a pulse. It was
there, but faint. “Yaxche?” he asked. “Are you hurt?”

Gently, he tapped the side of Yaxche’s face, and then
repeated his question when he felt the older man flinch.

Yaxche said, “Ahyah. I’m fine, except I think I might be
blind.”

“The lights are out,” Michael said. He was still secured by
the restraints and fumbled for the safety latch. “I can’t reach Alex. Is he
still unconscious?”

Michael couldn’t see whether Yaxche nudged Alex or not, but
a moment later, the young man groaned.

“What happened?”

Michael said, “I was going to ask you the same question.”

“My head hurts. I think I banged it on something.”

“Can you use your
sight
to
see
where we are?”
Michael asked.

“Yeah,” Alex said. “Give me a minute.” A moment later, he
let out a sound of despair.

“What is it?” Kenny asked.

“I can see the remains of the scout ship, and … I can’t tell
for sure, but it looks like the command pod is destroyed.”

“Ah Tabai.” Michael’s voice was hoarse. “Aliah.”

“I can’t feel their Kinemetic signatures. I think they’re
dead.” Alex made a moaning sound. “They risked everything to help us, and they
paid with their lives.”

Michael felt a deep anger at the news. More lives lost
needlessly. Who were these maniacs who had attacked them without warning?

Kenny said, “So that means we’re stranded here?”

“We’re not that lucky,” Alex replied.

“What do you mean by that?”

“We landed on Pluto. The bad news is we didn’t land close
enough to the star beacon for it to mask us. Our attackers are heading in this
direction.”


They sat in silence as the long minutes stretched out.
Michael knew that even if none of them were claustrophobic by nature, being in
the dark in an enclosed space could work on anyone’s psyche.

“What are they doing now?” he asked, keeping his voice as calm
as he could.

Alex cleared his throat. “I’m not sure. They’ve established
an orbit, but they haven’t sent a shuttle or anything. Maybe they’re waiting
for instructions.”

“From where?” Michael asked. “If they’re contacting Earth,
it could be over eight hours before they get a reply. It seems like a long time
to wait.”

“Maybe they can’t see us,” Kenny said, his voice filled with
hope.

Alex said, “Our sensors and lights are offline. It’s
possible that’s enough to hide us. They might know the general area where we
landed, but can’t tell our exact location.”

Michael let out a short, hollow laugh. “If that’s the case,
then maybe we should let them know we’re here.”

“Are you crazy?” Kenny’s voice was strained. “They’ll kill
us.”

“Maybe,” Michael said, “but if we don’t take that chance, we’re
dead, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

Instead of answering the question directly, Michael asked
Alex, “Is there any way you can be sure that Ah Tabai and Aliah are dead? Maybe
they just quantized themselves, like you did.”

“I can still sense traces of the Kinemetic radiation around
where their command pod exploded. If they quantized themselves, I should be
able to detect them the same way. I’m sorry to say it: I don’t think they
survived.”

“Then no one knows we’re out here,” Michael said. “It looks
as if the life-support systems are working fine. We’ve just lost communications
and lights. If we can jump-start the systems, we can send out a distress call.”

“Wait a minute,” Kenny said. “Don’t you think we should vote
on this?”

“If you have any better suggestions,” Michael said, “now’s
the time…”

After a moment, Kenny huffed. “Fine. How do we get
communications back up?”

“When we were setting up the quantum drive on the
Ultio,
Justine mentioned that she was the spark to engage the damping field and kick-start
the main engines. Alex, can you use your electropathic ability to do that
here?”

“I can try,” Alex said. “Give me a minute. The systems here
are completely unfamiliar.”

They all waited in silence for a short eternity. Without
warning, the cabin lights turned on, and all of them cried out in surprise.
Michael, feeling like he’d been blinded, covered his eyes with his hand until
he adjusted to the light.

Alex said, “I think I can trace the communications array …
ah, yes, here we go.”

The display on the wall lit up, showing life support.

“Oh. That was the diagnostics array,” Alex said. “Still
looking for communications.”

While Alex continued to use his abilities to try to repair
the communications system, Michael looked over at Kenny. The young physicist
wasn’t looking very good.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Kenny, his face drained of color, forced a smile. “It only
hurts when I breathe—at least that means I’m still alive, right?”

Alex said, “Got it. We have communications again.” He glanced
at Michael. “I’m broadcasting on several frequencies.”

Nodding at Alex, Michael spoke in a louder voice. “Attention
unidentified vessel orbiting Pluto. This is Michael Sanderson, a Canada Corp.
citizen. There are three others aboard our pod—Alex Manez and Kenny Harriman,
who are also Canadians, and a Honduran translator named Yaxche. We offer our
surrender.”

The four men looked at one another uneasily until the
speaker crackled.

“This is Lieutenant Gao of the Solan Empire. You have
arrived in imperial space on a vessel of unfamiliar manufacture. According to
our records, the four people you named have all been declared traitors by your
respective governments. Furthermore, they have been missing for over four years
and presumed dead. We must conclude you are spies for a foreign government, or
you are fugitives attempting to disguise yourselves with false identities. In
either case, the penalty for espionage is clear.”

“We’re not fugitives,” Michael said. “And we’re not spies.
We are who we say we are. If our governments have warrants out for us, I’m sure
they would appreciate it if you arrested us and turned us over. It’s all a big
misunderstanding. Please, we have an injured man here. He may have broken some
ribs and will require medical attention.”

The radio went silent for a moment. With a note of
apprehension, Kenny asked, “Why aren’t they replying? Does that mean they’re
just going to fire on us?”

Michael looked at Alex. “Can you
see
what they’re
doing?”

Alex closed his eyes in concentration. “They’re approaching
our geosynchronous position. I can’t tell if they are arming weapons or not.”

“They’re going to blast us,” Kenny said in misery.

Lieutenant Gao’s voice came over the speaker. “Occupants of
the escape pod. Stand by. We are sending a shuttle down to investigate. Should
you not be who you said you are, you will be destroyed on the spot.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Michael said.

The lieutenant did not reply, but a moment later, Alex told
them a shuttle had been launched from the patrol ship.

Before it arrived, Michael said, “I suggest none of us say
anything about Ah Tabai, Aliah, or the Kulsat.”

“What do we tell them, then?” Kenny asked. “How do we
explain the alien ship, or this escape pod?”

“Play dumb. Tell them we have no knowledge of what happened
to us after we left Sol System.”

Alex, his voice dry, added, “It worked for me last time.”


After latching onto the escape pod with a magnetic clasp,
the shuttle lifted off Pluto and headed back to the patrol ship.

Once they were safely in the docking bay, and Alex told them
that the soldiers were approaching to surround the pod, Michael said, “See if
you can open the hatch.”

Alex did so, and a hiss of cool air flowed into their
compartment.

A voice from outside called out an order. It sounded like
Lieutenant Gao. “Step out of the pod one at a time, slowly, and with your hands
on top of your heads.”

“Coming out,” Michael called back, and got out first,
walking gingerly. His knee still throbbed.

Six armed soldiers aimed their pulse rifles at Michael. As if
seeing that he was, indeed, human, they all relaxed to a small degree—at least
as far as Michael could tell by the expressions on their faces. They still
trained their guns on him as they would a dangerous criminal.

Next out was Alex, followed by Yaxche.

Lieutenant Gao stepped forward. Though there was writing on
the patch on his chest, it was in Chinese, as was the patch on the epaulet. He
was clearly oriental, but he spoke English with no accent. His tone held no
humor. “Where is the last one?”

Nodding toward the pod, Michael said, “He’ll need help.”

“Very well. You three will follow the guards to the
detention area. If you do not follow instructions precisely, you will be shot
without hesitation.” The lieutenant pointed to two of his soldiers. “You two,
retrieve the injured prisoner and bring him to the infirmary. Ensure he is
fully secured.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Gao,” Michael said. “We have been out
of the picture for some time. Can you tell me what the Solan Empire is?”

“Be silent,” the lieutenant said. “Until we receive further
instructions, you will be held incommunicado. You will not speak to your
guards, nor will you be given any information.”

Michael wanted to watch as the two soldiers reached into the
escape pod to help Kenny get out, but one of his guards pressed the barrel of
his pulse rifle between his shoulder blades. The three of them headed out of
the docking bay, none of them saying anything, as they’d been instructed.

Just before they exited the main doors, Michael swiveled his
head around and got a brief look at Kenny. The young physicist hung limply
between the two soldiers, and was possibly even unconscious. Michael wanted to
race back to help, but he knew anything he did might jeopardize the cooperation
of the Solan Empire soldiers—whoever they were.


It was nearly nine hours later before anyone came to their
cell. Michael was growing more and more worried that they hadn’t heard anything
about Kenny, nor had they had any indication from the stoic soldier standing
guard as to what their fate would be.

Michael stood up from the long bench set into the wall of the
cell when he recognized Lieutenant Gao, who was followed by two other soldiers holding
handguns.

“How is he?” Michael asked, glancing nervously at the guns.
“Is Kenny all right?”

“That should be the last of your concerns, Mr. Sanderson,”
the lieutenant said, an ominous tone in his voice.

Alex got up and stood next to Michael while Yaxche remained
sitting.

Michael asked, “What do you mean by that?”

“We’ve received instructions from Central Command. They were
explicit.” With that, he made a motion with his hand to the two soldiers. Both
raised their guns and pointed them at Michael and Alex.

“What are you doing?” Michael cried out. The only response
he got from Lieutenant Gao was an amused smile.

The lieutenant nodded at his men.

Alex yelled, “No!”

The soldiers opened fire.

4

Kulsat
Ship :

Centauri
System :

When Justine had
quantized herself in the past, she’d been completely aware of her surroundings.

Not so this time.

Her consciousness only returned to her when she materialized
out of the quantized state—through no action of her own. It took her several
seconds to remember what had happened to her.

The
Ultio.

Someone, or something, on the Kulsat ship had scanned her
with the
sight
and then, against her will, transformed her into quanta.

… And then what?

Her thoughts were thick; she had trouble concentrating.
Where was she?

She opened her eyes to an all-encompassing blanket of
darkness. There was no Kinemetic radiation left in her body; she could not use
its influence to sense her surroundings.

Panic surged through her, and she fought back a scream. She
had to keep her head.

Though she was blind, she had other senses.

She could breathe; therefore, there was oxygen. It smelled
musky and a little stale. It reminded her of being in a large industrial
complex with climate control.

Straining her ears, she could hear the echo of her
breathing; that meant there were walls, and she was in an enclosed space. A
prison?

Under her back was a hard floor, cold to the touch. Tapping
it with a fingernail produced a high-pitched metallic sound.

Extending her arms around in a fan-like motion, her hands
did not come in contact with any walls or other objects in her immediate
vicinity. She reached above her and felt no resistance in that direction.

Carefully, she rolled to her stomach, drew her legs under
her, and raised herself to her knees. Though her muscles were stiff and sore,
she didn’t need much effort to push herself up. The gravity level was about
half of Earth normal.

She moved her arms around in a circular motion, searching
for a wall or ceiling.

“Hello?” she said. Her voice came back to her sounding small
and frightened, but there was no reply.

Stretching one hand out in front of her, Justine crawled
forward on her knees. She needed to know the limitations of her prison cell, if
that were, indeed, where she was.

Her fingers came up against a wall, and she let out a small
grunt at the sudden discovery. The surface of the wall was smooth and cool, but
unlike the floor, when she tapped her nail against it, the reverberation
sounded more like glass than metal.

Rapping on it with her knuckles, she called out. “Hello. Is
there anyone there?”

No answer except the echo of her own voice.

She used the glass wall as support and pulled herself to her
feet. Reaching up as high as she could, even standing on the tips of her toes,
she could not feel a ceiling.

Keeping her hand firmly on the wall, she moved to her left
until she came to a corner. The adjoining wall was made of the same glass-like
material.

Soon, Justine made a complete circuit of her cell. The room
she was in was a cube, each wall at least three meters. She assumed the ceiling
was at least a similar height. Although she couldn’t reach it, when she was
near one corner, she could feel a hiss of oxygen coming from above her.

Was she a prisoner of the Kulsat? Was she on their ship? The
hull had been made of Kinemet. She’d sensed that before they abducted her.
There had to be some dampening around her, however, because she could not sense
any radiation.

Alex, Michael, Kenny, Yaxche!
Had they been abducted
as well? Killed?

Her military training told her that there was a possibility
she would be tortured for information. She remembered the story Alex had told
them moments before the alien ship had appeared before them.

The Kulsat wanted to find the legacy left behind by the
Grace, which they believed was in a pre-Emerged system. The Sentinel who had
left the message for Alex had told them the Kulsat would not hesitate to destroy
anything that got in their way.

Justine knew they would question her about her home world:
where it was, what level of technology they had, and any other information that
would provide them with a tactical advantage. Now that they’d become aware of
humanity, it would only be a matter of time before the Kulsat investigated the
system.

Earth would not stand a chance against a species who had the
level of technology the Kulsat possessed—and for all Justine knew, what she’d
seen might only be a small portion of their capabilities.

During her four-year journey to the Centauri system, Justine
had been fully conscious in her quantized state. Something during the Kinemetic
conversion had altered her body’s chemistry in a permanent way.

One of the other major side effects was that she retained
information. She could recall the text of every book she’d ever read. Her mind
was a storehouse of knowledge that an enemy would be eager to pillage.

Again, she felt her heart rate increase. It wasn’t the
thought of torture that frightened her; it was the thought that she wouldn’t be
able to withstand their interrogation techniques. If they broke her, she would
essentially be giving up her entire world to the enemy. She didn’t know if she
could live with that … if she survived.

She couldn’t let her imagination get the better of her. Her
isolation and the fear of the future were playing with her emotions. Willing
herself to be calm, she took a deep breath, and then another. With her back
against one of the walls, she sat down and waited.

Although she’d been conscious for only a few minutes, she
had no idea how long it had been since she’d been abducted from the
Ultio
.
Hours? Days? For all she knew, they could have kept her in the quantized state
for years, and there would be no physical evidence to prove otherwise.

She also did not know how long they planned to keep her in
the cell. Certainly, it was not set up for long-term confinement. Though she
was not looking forward to it, she knew whatever the Kulsat planned to do her,
she had to keep all the information stored in her mind from them.


She didn’t have to wait very long.

Twelve minutes after she’d regained consciousness, she
became aware of another Kinemetic presence nearby.

With her
sight,
she realized that the damping field
was not around her cell, which was in a very large room. There was a barrier
dividing the room itself from the rest of the ship.

Alex?
was her first thought. Had they captured him as
well? He was the only other human who had been through the Kinemetic process—though
his transformation had not been complete.

When she’d been on Lucis Observatory, she’d been able to
recharge herself just by being close to dormant Kinemet. The new presence gave
off enough radiation that some of it leaked into her. It wasn’t enough for her
to quantize herself, but she regained some of her ability to
see,
though
in a severely diminished capacity.

It was as if someone had turned on a very dim spotlight.
Outside the confines of her cell, at least twenty feet away, a form took shape
in her mind’s eye.

Just as her hopes started to rise, they plummeted as the
presence came closer.

What she
saw
made her stomach clench.

It was not human.

The creature had a large, bulbous head that bore the rough
shape of a spade. Two protuberances on either side of its head held large eyes.
Instead of a torso, eight long tentacle-like arms, connected at their base by a
membranous web, extended out. The alien resembled a cephalopod.

From the top of its head to the end of its arms, it was less
than half the height of an average human. She had no way of figuring out what
gender the Kulsat was, or even if it had a gender, but in her mind, she thought
of it as male.

So this is a Kulsat…

At first, she thought the creature was hovering, or floating
somehow. Then his arms expanded and contracted, propelling the alien closer to
her prison cell, and she realized he was swimming.

The Kulsat must have a water-based physiology. Was the
inside of the alien ship completely filled with water?

That meant that if she were to break the glass of her
terrarium, water would pour in and drown her.

In her mind, she’d been preparing for a bipedal alien
species, but the realization of how different the Kulsat were from humans came
as a shock.

The alien swam closer to Justine’s tank, and as he did so,
her
sight
grew marginally stronger. While her prison was a perfect cube,
the room in which it was situated was far more complicated.

It looked like a complex laboratory, with dozens of
open-faced cupboards on the walls. She couldn’t identify several large
constructs. Tubes extended from them into the ceiling.

There were three long tables. Various objects that could
have been tools, containers, or other scientific apparatuses were strewn over
their surfaces. Short vertical walls lined the edges, and Justine realized that
they were there to prevent anything on the table from falling off—when the
alien moved past, his motion created a wake in the water. A number of items
shifted position.

When the alien reached Justine’s prison, he extended one
tentacle to what looked like a control panel attached to the outside wall of
the cell.

Though Justine had not absorbed enough Kinemetic radiation
to quantize herself, or manipulate any electric current in the area, her
sight
was enough for her to start making out details, rather than seeing rough
shapes.

At the end of the Kulsat’s tentacle were several wormlike
fingers. With these, he touched the control panel in a pattern.

A moment later, a mechanical voice spoke, the sound coming
through the glass muted and partially distorted.

“Hello.”

Justine flinched, then got hold of herself. She looked at
the Kulsat.

“What do you mean, ‘hello’?” She slapped her hand against
the glass wall, all the anger and fear she’d been suppressing coming out. “Who
the hell are you? Why did you kidnap me? What have you done with my friends?”
When the alien did not respond, she asked, “What are you going to do to me?”

The alien extended his arm to the control panel again, as if
typing.

“What do you mean hello who the hell are you why did you
kidnap me what have you done with my friends what are you going to do to me.”

Justine took a step back. The alien had mimicked her words.

She asked, “How do you know my language?”

The alien typed. “My do not have language. My have to
do
language.”

He motioned to a spot between his eye and one of his arms,
and Justine put her hand on her neck near the corresponding area. Her fingers
felt a small rectangular piece of metal attached to her collar. A transmitter?
The control panel attached to her tank must be a linguistic computer.
Everything she’d said must have gone into it and been analyzed. The computer
had already interpreted basic grammatical structure based on the few sentences
she’d spoken.

While Justine did not want to give the Kulsat any information,
she understood the need for communication. Perhaps she would be able to
negotiate a treaty between the Kulsat and Earth. Then there would be no need
for an invasion.

She started small. With her enhanced memory, she could
recall the very first books she’d read as a child. Even without corresponding
images to associate with the words or phrases, the alien’s computer should be
able to build a rudimentary language database.

Taking a deep breath to focus, Justine spoke, beginning with
a number of the simpler titles, and moving up to some of her favorite children’s
books, including
Peter Pan.
By the time was she was on the fifth chapter
of that classic, the alien interrupted her.

“You are able.”

“Able?” Justine asked. “To do what?”

The Kulsat typed on his console. “You are able to be well.”

“Am I hurt?” Justine asked. “No. I am not hurt.”

“You are to be not expired? To be continuous?”

Justine struggled to understand the alien’s meaning. “Yes, I’ll
live.” She took a breath to illustrate. “Who are you? What is your name?”

“I am being the science leader.”

Justine asked, “What do you want from me? What are you going
to do to me?”

The alien did not type a reply immediately. It seemed to
consider her question. Finally, it reached out to the computer again.

“You are to be cooperating. You are to be giving your
knowledge to us. Then you are to be expiring.”

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