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Authors: J. Alan Field

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #First Contact, #Galactic Empire, #Military, #Space Fleet, #Space Opera, #Teen & Young Adult

Starhold (18 page)

BOOK: Starhold
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17: Masks

Bakkoa

Planet Earth

The cell was small, but not cramped—something along the lines of five square meters. His timepiece had been taken from him, but Carr judged that he had been detained for around two hours, give or take. His cell was one of three in a windowless room. There was one on his left and another situated diagonally to his right and both empty.

Carr knew he was in the Government Compound by the signs he had seen and comments he had heard while being escorted inside. This was the center of authority in the settlement known as Bakkoa. It would be a good place to find answers, but he needed to find them quickly. Task Force 19 would be arriving soon and he needed to be in space with information when they arrived. Hopefully, someone would be curious enough about him that they wouldn’t let him languish here for days.

So, the list of things to do: find out what’s going on, escape, grab Sanchez and Mumphrey, get back to
Kite
and into space, brief the task force. Simple, no problem. There just had to be another way he could make good money. If he got out of this mess and made it back home, maybe he could turn his antiques gig into a full time profession. Alone, he might be able to live well off that kind of work, but…

As it turned out, someone was curious. Shortly, guards arrived and escorted the handcuffed Carr through several hallways into a large foyer. There, sitting behind a desk next to a large door, was the young man who had tricked him into the back of the police truck. The boy seemed to have a permanent sneer affixed to his face.

“Well, if it isn’t the superspy himself,” snickered the youngster. “The Lord Governor wants a word.” He motioned for the guards to usher their prisoner through the door.

The huge office was ornately appointed with paintings and objets d'art scattered about the room. A gentleman sitting behind the desk closed down a holographic program he had been working on and got to his feet. Around six-foot tall, he was a distinguished looking man with dark hair and a salt and pepper goatee. Carr thought he looked to be in his late-forties, maybe fifty. He wore an olive colored tunic suit, which looked like a cross between a business suit and a military uniform.

“Remove the cuffs,” the man ordered one of the guards and then motioned toward a chair. “Please sit down, Mister, um?”

“Carr, Frank Carr.” No use to play games with names at this point.

“I am Lord Governor Sheel,” the man said, taking his seat again. “Frank Carr—yes, I understand you people still use multiple names. My people have it down to just one.”

“How nice for you. And, exactly who are your people?”

“Splendid,” Sheel smiled. “Right to the point—no insincere social niceties. Very businesslike, which I appreciate, especially on a hectic day like today. Let us not play games. I will answer your question, but before I do, I’d like to know which government sent you. Are you from the Commonwealth?”

“No. I’m a representative of the Sarissan Union.”

Sheel was amused and gave a toothy grin. “Ah, so now that you’ve been captured, you’re a representative, a diplomat. Pardon me for saying so, but this morning you and your friends seemed very much like spies.”

“What friends? I came here alone.”

“Come, come, Carr. I thought we agreed not to play games.”

“Those were your words. I didn’t agree to anything,” stated Carr flatly. He looked at Sheel intently and cocked his head. “So, who are you people?”

“I’d like to hear your impressions first. Who do you think we are?” asked Sheel with an amused look.

Carr took a breath. He needed to be tactful because here was finally a chance to get some answers. He had to turn the interrogation around, so that he learned more from Sheel than Sheel learned from him. “I thought you were from the Rim, but certain things don’t add up. For example, the coincidence that you use the same language as my people.”

“What about it?”

“I don’t believe in coincidence.”

The Lord Governor laughed. “In that, you are very wise.”

“And then, there’s that fancy hypergate you’ve got out at Lagrange Two. I’ve never seen one quite like it. It almost looks like it’s more than just a hypergate.”

“It was.”

“Was? Trouble?”

“It exploded this morning with over forty people dead, including some of our most brilliant scientists. A tragic accident, at least we think it was an accident,” Sheel said in a darker voice. “Your people didn’t have anything to do with it, did you?”

Be careful, I could be made a scapegoat for a lot here…
“My people don’t kill civilians, Governor,” Carr replied sincerely. “But, back to the question at hand, the one you promised to answer.”

Sheel rose and went to the sideboard to pour himself a glass of wine. “And so I shall. A glass of wine?” The two guards standing near the door glanced at each other, knowing that no wine would be coming their way.

“I wouldn’t mind a glass of water,” he replied. “By the way, Governor, you have some lovely art here.” Always a good tactic to try to befriend the enemy on an outside topic.

“Thank you,” answered Sheel while pouring. “All part of my predecessor’s collection, and now mine.”

Upon closer inspection from his chair, Carr zeroed in on a particular piece. He rose to give it a further look, remembering his situation only as the guards rushed over to restrain him. He stopped and raised his hands just as the guards grabbed him and slammed him back into his chair.

“My apologies, but I was just curious about that piece,” he said pointing to the pedestal next to the sideboard. On it was a tall porcelain vase, exquisitely painted in blue and white. “Is that—is that a Dragoneer Vase from the Qing dynasty?”

Sheel sat on the side of his desk and stroked his goatee in a pensive look. “I’ll satisfy both of your questions with one answer. Where my ancestors are from, there was no Qing dynasty. That is indeed a Dragoneer Vase, but it is from the Zhang Dynasty.”

Carr looked at Sheel for a moment. Whatever the riddle was, this man was enjoying it.
And he said no games…

“I may be a little rusty on my ancient Chinese history, but I don’t think there was a Zhang Dynasty,” Carr replied slowly, thinking he must be wrong.

Satisfaction spread across Sheel’s face, as though he were a teacher pleased with the response of a particularly slow student. “You are correct. On this Earth, there was no Zhang Dynasty, but on the Earth of my ancestors, there was.”

Silence stretched out as Carr considered the Governor’s words.

“A parallel planet?”

“A parallel universe.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” said Carr. Then again, it would explain a great many things. “So, if I walked over there and punched one of your guards in the face, I wouldn’t find a big lizard underneath a plastic mask?”

Sheel chuckled. “I can assure you that we are all human beings and that I am telling the truth about crossing over from another universe.”

“So that hypergate wasn’t just a hypergate. You’re saying it was a… a bridge between dimensions?”

The Lord Governor nodded. “We called it the Threshold. My people, the Rhuzari Empire, built the first one in my universe. Like a hypergate, it was supposed to project travelers through many light years of space, but without the requirement of another hypergate at the destination end of the journey. Imagine the freedom that such a device would give its owners—and the power.”

Carr considered the possibilities. “Exploration would flourish. If habitable planets were discovered, colony ships could be sent immediately.” He paused to consider other prospects. “And war fleets could be moved around almost at will. You could use that kind of device to instantly project forces deep into an enemy’s territory. It would be an incredible advantage.” Carr took a gulp of water. “But something went wrong.”

“Obviously. Our colony fleet was being sent to colonize a planet over three hundred light years distant from Rhuzar, our homeworld. Over two standard years of conventional travel in an instant. Tests had been conducted and it should have worked. Our fleet entered the Threshold and we came out here. We arrived in not only in the wrong place, but in the wrong universe.

“And so, realizing our plight, we went to work. We took this planet that your ancestors had so inanely destroyed and terraformed it. The irony—terraforming Terra, which is what we commonly call our planet Earth. And don’t feel so bad, my ancestors practically destroyed our home as well.”

Carr was getting a headache trying to take it all in. “So, you built another Threshold to try to go home.”

“Not to go home,” corrected Sheel. “This space, this newly discovered universe, is fertile ground. It was to be presented to my Emperor as a gift. It would be a new theater of conquest for Rhuzari forces and new provinces for the Empire.”

“Until your little explosion today. So, won’t you just build another one of these Thresholds?”

Sheel shook his head. “Regrettably, the indispensable genius behind the Threshold’s construction was one of the fatalities in this morning’s explosion. There will not be another.”

“Guess the invasion is off,” jibed Carr.

“Not necessarily. I believe we have enough firepower in the ships at hand to make a good start on a new empire.”

“And let me guess—this new empire will be headed by, oh, I don’t know, you maybe?”

“I don’t see why not. As Lord Governor, I am already the leader here. It will be a simple matter to change titles.”

“Governor to Emperor, just like that. You only have what, somewhere between fifteen to twenty thousand people here. How are they going to conquer millions?”

“Our fleet is more than a match for anything your people or anyone else in this galactic neighborhood can put up against us. Our shield technology alone gives us an edge, as does the
Imperial Wrath,
that titan-class warship you’ve undoubtedly already observed above the planet,” said the Lord Governor. “I think that after we burn a few of your worlds from high orbit, your people will be very anxious to join my new realm.” A chill ran up Carr’s spine. Sheel seemed to be confident, but not delusional. He may have good reason to believe this scenario could work.

“You’re counting pretty heavily on technology. The sheer numbers are against you, you do know that?” Carr realized he was sounding like someone whistling past the graveyard. Director Tolbert had forwarded the after-action report on the Battle of Uritski to him while he and Sanchez were on Rusalka. He understood how powerful the Rhuzari ships must be.

“We will build more ships,” the goateed man promised. “I may have lost Doctor Acree and his Threshold technology, but I still have shipbuilders and a shipyard. You should also understand just how much of a technological advantage we have. With our passage through the Threshold, we not only crossed dimensions in space, but in time as well. The human calendar here says it’s the year is 2568. I was born on Rhuzar in the year 2721. We’ve not only come from another universe, but from almost two hundred years in the future as well. I believe that our two century tech advantage will be decisive.”

Carr looked down at his empty water glass. “You sure you won’t have a glass of wine,” chuckled Sheel, “you look like you could use it.”

“I’m sure I do. It’s a lot to take in,” admitted Carr. “So how parallel are these two universes? For example, would there be another Frank Carr in that universe?”

Sheel walked around his desk to sit back down in his chair. “I’ve been curious about that myself, so I’ve researched as much as possible using what we’ve learned from your databases and compared them with our own.” He saw his prisoner’s expression. “Yes, Carr, we’ve gathered a considerable amount of information on civilization this side of the Threshold. Keep in mind that we’ve been here for twelve years now.”

Carr decided not to look shocked anymore, even if he was. He needed to wear a better poker face. It was never in your best interests to show the opponent how off-balance you were.

“As far as I can make out,” continued Sheel, “the two universes are similar, but not identical. For example, I find no evidence of anyone corresponding to any of my ancestors having ever lived in this universe.” The Lord Governor seemed pleased about that.

“The histories of both Earths are similar, but not identical. My Terra had a Roman Empire, but there was nobody named Julius Caesar or Augustus. Also, our Roman Empire lasted around two hundred years longer than the one on this world. We also had two World Wars, but with different nations and different results. For example there was no, what was that German leader’s name?”

“Adolph Hitler?”

Sheel snapped his fingers “That’s the one. There was no Hitler in my people’s history, but still a Second World War. Apparently, our Terra achieved space travel somewhat earlier than yours did and like your people, our humankind is scattered throughout the galaxy. Rhuzar is in the star system you call Capella.”

Carr thought for a moment. There were so many questions, he didn’t know what to ask next. “In your universe, have your people ever encountered any intelligent alien life?” Sheel reacted to the query with an odd expression, as if he didn’t know what to say, or perhaps he had misheard the question. He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

Just then, the door opened and a woman entered the office. A smile came to Sheel’s face, either because the woman was a distraction from answering Carr’s question, or because of the woman herself. Carr decided it was the woman herself. She walked earnestly to Sheel’s side, placing her hand on his shoulder. The two looked as if they were posing for a portrait.

“May I present my administrative assistant, Madam Naar,” Sheel said. “My dear, this is our guest, Carr.”

He bowed his head to greet her and Naar nodded back at him, but seemed preoccupied.

“Sorry to intrude, my Lord Governor,” she said, “but you have, um, a situation headed this way.”

Sheel sighed. “Does this ‘situation’ happen to be wearing a fleetmaster’s uniform?”

Naar nodded. “He’s already in the building.”

There was a commotion in the hallway and the door burst open. The young punk was bellowing, “You can’t go in there!” as he and two other men barged into the Governor’s office.

BOOK: Starhold
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