The Gods We Seek Page 10

  Ji-min raised her chin and studied Sara. “This is my home. I finally made a home.”

  “I know what that means to you, and I don’t ask lightly. Ji-min, I believe the aliens intend to ruin all our homes.”

  Ji-min breathed in deeply and exhaled sharply.

  “You know it’s true,” Sara said.

  “I know you believe it to be true.” She sighed. “That is not my truth. My purpose is to care for the people society ignores.”

  Sara said, “Unje told you there are evils far worse than Dear Leader. That when you realize your potential, you will have true power to change the world.”

  Ji-min closed her eyes.

  “You are doing wonderful things here,” Sara said, “but I believe this is the moment Unje spoke of. There is a great evil and it threatens the entire planet.”

  A tear escaped the corner of Ji-min’s eye.

  “I’m sorry,” Sara said. “I know how much the home you have built here means to you. The world needs you. I need you.”

  Ji-min opened her eyes. “I’ll put my affairs in order. I will join you tomorrow.”

  Sara tightened her grasp on Ji-min’s hand. “We’re out of time. The alien is focused on the Quadriga and capable of harming it. We have to leave Earth now.”

  Ji-min stood and rolled her bamboo mat. “I have faith in your judgment.” She nodded toward the motorcycle. “Our journey to the stars begins on that?”

  Sara smiled. “Yes.”

  #

  Ji-min clung to Sara’s waist as they zipped through the streets of Changyon, high-tech buildings passing in a blur.

  “Have you heard from Unje?” Sara asked, shouting against the wind.

  Ji-min’s grip loosened for a heartbeat before she clung tighter than before. “You told me she’s a delusion. A coping mechanism.”

  “I did. I couldn’t imagine the acts you ascribed to her as being possible.” Sara leaned hard to the right, whipping the bike around a corner. “After today’s events, I admit, I was probably wrong. Have you seen her?”

  “No. Not since she helped me escape the North.”

  “Can you think of any way to contact her? We could use an ally.”

  “If she wanted to make contact, I’m certain she could find me.”

  They sped down a narrow street lined with pre-unification buildings, old, ugly concrete blocks that had escaped the renovation most of the city had enjoyed. Another sharp turn brought them to a dusty road, a straight shot to the abandoned mill and the Quadriga, now surrounded by most of the town’s population. Sara drove the bike right into the ship and willed the opening shut.

  “We gotta git,” Dylan said. “There are heat signatures inbound from Beijing. Two minutes until they arrive.”

  “How do you know?” Sara asked. “Did we reestablish communication?”

  “Yes,” Chad said. “With China. Your old pal Colonel Long was kind enough to share intel.”

  “You contacted China?” Sara forced her anger away and turned to Ji-min, regarding her with grateful eyes. “We have what we came for. Let’s move. And no more contact with China without my authorization.”

  Chad nodded agreement, an amused grin on his lips.

  “I thought you’d be better at math,” Dylan said.

  Sara’s glare urged him to get to the point.

  “Six seats, seven people. If we have to maneuver, whoever’s left when the music stops will be splatted against the wall.”

  “I’ve got it,” Chad said. He closed his eyes and willed another chair to sprout from the floor at the rear of the bridge, like a time-lapse of a blossoming lotus flower. “Hurry now, sit.”

  The ship lifted off, slowly at first, sending swirls of dust drifting through the crowd below. As they climbed, the city came into view.

  “So much has changed,” Ji-min said. “The city has changed. The world has changed. I have changed.”

  “You have grown,” Sara said, “but your nature has not changed. At your core, you’re still the kind woman I met in Seoul so many years ago.”

  The city shrunk until the people appeared as ants, and soon the buildings as well. The clear, blue sky darkened, and the brightest stars emerged.

  “Next stop, Mars!” Chad said.

  Sixteen seconds later, they were in orbit above Olympus Mons, the tallest mountain in the solar system, towering above the plains of the red planet. The sun, appreciably dimmer here, crested the horizon, lending the planet’s thin atmosphere a deep blue-and-purple hue. As Sol continued its rise, the largest off-world structure ever created by mankind emerged from the glare. Mars Station, in its now half-kilometer top-to-bottom glory, loomed before them. A gray speck separated from the bottom of the station’s spine and drifted toward them. It grew larger and took on a triangular shape. An orbital resupply shuttle.

  A call came over coms. “This is Delta Four Three, requesting permission to dock.” The voice belonged to Commander Ian Weems. “I have Commander Cotto with me.”

  The shuttle pulled alongside the Quadriga.

  “You know,” Chad said, “it might be a good idea to bring a shuttle with us. If aliens are willing to attack Earth to get the Quadriga, it might not be terribly bright to land it on other inhabited worlds. Worlds we know nothing about.”

  “There’s logic in that,” Dylan said. “But how?”

  “The Quadriga is as much organic as mechanical. I bet we could coax her into swallowing the shuttle. In a manner of speaking.”

  “Commander,” Dylan said over coms, “do you think we could keep your shuttle? It would be mighty handy on our mission.”

  “All I have is at your disposal,” Commander Cotto replied.

  Dylan nodded approval to try.

  “Stay put,” Chad said over coms. “I'll see if we can take your whole ship on board.” He moved the Quadriga over the top of the shuttle and willed their ship’s hull to stretch out, like skin growing over a splinter. Soon the shuttle was nestled inside and the Quadriga had a bulge like a snake swallowing a meal. “It’s not what I’d call pretty,” Chad said, “but it should work.”

  “Don’t just stand there,” Dylan said. “Let’s go welcome them.”

  The crew pulled their way through the round and twisting corridors, Dylan and Musa with practiced grace, the rest a clumsy jumble. When they arrived at the shuttle, the Quadriga’s hull was still reforming, golden liquid draining off in all directions, to expose the smaller ship’s airlock.

  The door opened and Commander Juliana Cotto, an athletic, confident, middle-aged Hispanic woman, emerged.

  Dylan saluted her.

  She returned his salute. “I’m glad you made it safely off Earth.” A micro get-around attached to her belt pulsed, pivoting her to face the airlock. Several large, canvas bundles emerged from the doorway. “I brought goodies.” She tapped the unit attached to her waist. “Including these little doohickeys. Something we cooked up on Mars Station to make life in zero-G easier. They have a brain wave interface. You think, it reacts.”

  Dylan tapped his toes on the floor, sending him drifting toward Commander Cotto, then shoved off the ceiling to stop in front of her. The deft push brought him to a near stand-still. He grasped her hand with both of his and smiled warmly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Juliana.”

  Shakedown Cruise

  “For those who don’t know me, my name is Commander Juliana Cotto.” The Commander held herself with military bearing but spoke in the easy, charismatic manner of a leader who earns loyalty. She studied the crew. “This will be the most unusual mission any of you have undertaken. Circumstances force you to embark on this endeavor not at a time of your choosing, but at a time decided for you. None of you have the training you would desire for this mission.” She looked at Ji-min then at Dr. Skye. “Some of you have no mission training at all.”

  Dr. Skye opened her mouth.

  Captain Cotto raised a hand. “Though each of you possesses expertise that will certainly be required on your mission.” She t
urned to face Earth, a tiny dot to the left of the sun. “Together, you will succeed. What do you need from me?”

  Sara opened her mouth to speak.

  “Commander,” Dylan said, “foremost, your counsel. We haven’t decided on a plan.”

  “What have you considered?” she asked.

  Dr. Skye said, “Proxima Centauri b is the closest exoplanet within its host star’s habitable zone.”

  “Right,” Ian said, “but it orbits twenty times closer to its sun than Earth does. The solar wind probably sterilized the surface eons ago.”

  “The surface, yes,” Dr. Skye said. “Europa proves that life can thrive deep below the surface.”

  “With respect,” Jake said, “our mission is to find help for Earth. People back home are dying. Primitive, underground life forms won’t save us.”

  “Who’s to say only surface dwellers can evolve intelligence?” Dr. Skye asked. “You’re coloring your concept of advanced life with the only example we know thus far.”

  “You didn’t pause a heartbeat to think about the people,” Jake said.

  Dr. Skye reddened. “Of course, I’m worried about the people, but the best way to save them is to stay focused on the mission.”

  Jake tapped his fists together. “Sorry. I’m scared for everyone down there. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

  Dylan suggested, “What about Gliese 832 c? It’s only sixteen light years away and the surface temperature’s likely darn similar to Earth.”

  “True,” Dr. Skye said, “but it has its own challenges supporting an advanced civilization. For ex-”

  “Why are we arguing about what star to visit when we have signs of the invader’s mother ship right here at the edge of the solar system?” Chad asked.

  “We don’t know it’s a mother ship,” Sara said.

  “What are the odds it’s not?” Chad asked. “I mean, how many different aliens do you think are suddenly taking an interest in us?”

  “If it is them, it’s dangerous to approach,” Sara said. “We nearly lost the Quadriga leaving Earth. We can’t afford that risk.”

  “Come on, Sara, it’s a chance to learn about them first hand. We can warp away if things get hairy.”

  “Chad-” Sara said.

  “I for one want to learn more about them,” Jake said. “We can drop in a few light minutes behind them and observe. There’s no evidence they can match our speed.”

  “We can’t let the bastards slip away without at least trying to learn something,” Dylan said.

  Sara sighed and shook her head. “We observe. Only.”

  “Well then,” Commander Cotto said. “We have all the supplies you can hold waiting for you at the station. You’re cleared to dock at the upper pylon. While we load you up, you’re invited to a hearty meal. You can’t go save Earth without a proper send-off.”

  #

  Mars Station provided necessities the crew couldn’t load in their haste to depart Earth. Fresh and frozen food, liquid oxygen and hydrogen, advanced yet portable medical equipment, and entertainment for the long voyage. The station’s crew treated them to one of the most spectacular feasts ever served off Earth. There were plates of fresh fruit from the hydroponic garden, lab-grown pulled pork indistinguishable from Earth’s best, bread made from wheat grown in Martian soil, and a fine whiskey from Mars’ only distillery. Alcohol was forbidden on any NASA ship or station, but Commander Cotto’s enormous success keeping construction far ahead of schedule earned her some latitude. Bellies full and spirits lifted, the Quadriga’s crew said their farewells and returned to the alien vessel with which humanity’s hopes rested.

  The Quadriga was large enough to afford each person a modest, private room. Over the course of a few hours, the ship adapted each space on its own to best accommodate the occupant. Dylan’s room was reminiscent of a rustic cabin. Here, he and Sara sat across an oak table, secured gently in matching chairs by precisely shaped magnetic fields acting on metallic strands woven into their clothing, strands the ship itself added to the fabric.

  “Commander Cotto informs me loading is nearly complete,” Sara said.

  Dylan scratched his scar. “How the hell will we pull this off? We’re a handful of humans with no idea what’s out there. Half of us have no history working together as a team. Chad’s the smartest one and last time we went to space with him, he stole the keys to the ship.”

  Sara chuckled.

  “Is something funny?” Dylan asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “He is smart. Wicked smart,” Sara said. “He knew the fate of the Quadriga would be in the hands of politicians, people whose decisions revolve around ensuring re-election and gaining more power. Chad’s a visionary. He’s motivated by the betterment of humanity.”

  “He’s amassed quite a fortune for someone who’s not motivated by money,” Dylan said.

  “Once you have enough to live from, money becomes a tool. Some use it to increase their power and sense of self-importance. Most do, probably. Then there are billionaires who use money to improve the world. I’m a good judge of character, Dylan. Chad Tanner is pursuing a vision.”

  Dylan grunted. “We’ll have to agree to disagree. I still think he’s a prick CEO out for himself.”

  “Keep an open mind?” Sara asked.

  Dylan nodded.

  “Small bands of daring humans have pulled off the improbable before. Family groups in tiny boats set out from Taiwan thousands of years ago to settle Polynesia. Viking longboats crossed the Atlantic to discover North America.” Sara’s gaze went to a large viewport and the countless stars beyond. “Like those explorers, we’ll be on our own, cut off from civilization.”

  “Out of communication with Earth.” Dylan scratched the jagged scar over his right brow. “How is it the Quadriga’s makers can send a physical object faster than light, but not a message?”

  “Maybe they can,” Sara said. “Perhaps they didn’t include that technology in this ship, or maybe we haven’t learned how to access it.” She returned her attention to Dylan. “We’re on our own, with a hodgepodge crew. Failure equals catastrophe. We must turn these individuals into a team. Every soul on Earth relies on us.”

  A communicator on Sara’s wrist chimed. “Go ahead, Commander,” she said.

  “The last crate is on board,” Commander Cotto said. “It’s my personal reserve of twenty-twenty Jameson. Crack it open after you save the planet.”

  #

  The Quadriga sailed through the Kuiper belt, a wide band of icy debris at the edge of the solar system, toward the electromagnetic emissions that revealed a huge object traveling seventy percent the speed of light, away from the solar system, toward Alpha Centauri. Earth’s sun was a bright star casting feeble light on the frozen reaches of the solar system.

  “I have something on the gigapixel cam,” Musa said. “A faint blur at maximum magnification.” He projected it onto a holographic screen Chad rigged at the front of the bridge. An inky, dark-gray smudge stood out from the blackness of deep space.

  “Let's see if I can clean that up,” Chad said. He closed his eyes, meditation calming his features. “There.”

  The blur resolved to a long cylinder angled away from them. The near side emitted gamma rays, which the scanner represented as a ghostly, greenish-violet haze for the benefit of human eyes. A frail ring surrounded the shape, its circumference a few hundred times larger than the cylinder’s.

  “How the hell did you do that?” Dylan asked. “I saw how the hull reshaped to make an optical telescope for Sara, but what you’re doing is way beyond that.”

  “Simple, if you think about it,” Chad said. “The Quadriga moves so fast by altering the topology of space. The deformation is uniform in the direction we travel. I changed the shape at the leading edge of our warp bubble.”

  “A… a spatial lens?” Dylan asked.

  “Exactly. Astronomers use far-off black holes the same way, to image distant galaxies,” Chad said.

  “Amazing.
” Dylan pulsed his get-around, bringing him within arm’s length of the hologram. “It’s one thing to know something must be out there based on sensor readings. But there it is, plain as day. The mother ship that launched the attack on Earth.”

  “Could be,” Sara said. “Edge us in closer. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

  “You got it, Sara.” Chad’s eyes locked on the alien ship.

  “How big is that thing?” Dylan asked.

  The computer overlaid a 3D grid on the alien craft with measurements in meters.

  Dylan’s jaw dropped. “That’s freaking enormous.”

  Sara drifted closer to the hologram but struggled to control the microjets on her waist, causing her to wobble. She grasped Dylan’s elbow for support. “That behemoth is ten football fields long.”

  “What kind of technology does it take to build something that large and move it so damn fast?” Dylan asked.

  “How can we hope to defeat a species capable of that?” Musa asked.

  “I don’t know how,” Sara said, “but that’s exactly what we will do.”

  The alien ship’s image dwindled to a gray dot then was gone.

  “What happened?” Sara asked. “Did it pull away? Can it travel faster than light after all?”

  “The Quadriga stopped on its own,” Chad said. He shook his head, and a shiver rattled his arms. “It’s terrified of that thing.”

  #

  “What do you mean the Quadriga’s terrified of it?” Dylan asked. “We’re pinning our hopes on this ship, and it stops helping because it’s chicken?”

  Sara chewed her lower lip. “Chad, why did you say it’s terrified? Why did you choose that word?”

  “Just a feeling, but one that’s hard to deny,” Chad said. “The ship scans our brains to figure out what we want from it. Maybe it’s a two-way street.”

  “You think it implanted a sense of fear in you?”

  “Yes. That’s my best guess.”

  “You felt like you were picking up on its fear. Perhaps instead it was trying to communicate that you should be afraid?”