Destiny's Kingdom: Legend of the Chosen (35 page)

"We thought about it but decided to wait," Gannet spoke deliberately slow, not distracting his attention from his work. Clea glanced at him with a little smile; he was always so meticulous, even when there was nothing to warrant his detail-oriented nature. "Next year my youngest boy will be old enough to remember it and my whole family will go. I really do miss Bethel… but since my wife's parents' health has been fragile, they've needed us nearby, so we'll have to live off planet for at least another year. By then both kids will be old enough to really enjoy the Twilight Bloom, and we'll go back."

"It is a grand night indeed." Clea stared at the ceiling, let her thoughts wander. "I get hungry just thinking about the food…"

"Delora, analyze that fluctuation," Gannet cut Clea short as he saw something from the corner of his eyes on the sensor readout. "Has it been doing that for long?"

"No Gannet, it just started. Probably just an inconsistency in the sensor readout."

"There's no inconsistency; I just ran a diagnostic on the scanners. Flash back and augment that wave."

Clea turned her head to look at the sensor readout and watched the strange array of interference that fed across the screen. "That's weird. Looks like the wave from gamma radiation. What's the source?"

"Straight ahead, on course," Delora squinted at the display. "No particular origin, it just seems to be there. We're coming up on the Bet/Med nexus though… maybe there's something going on up there."

"Krisel open the subspace communication link." Clea finally sat up in her chair, opened a display that showed activity in the area. Krisel bypassed the galactic central communications matrix and switched over to Duplicity's subspace link. It was another specialized modification of the ship, gave them the ability to hear ship to ship conversations that weren't encrypted, and could even be modified to decrypt those that were, if necessary. A barrage of conversations hit their ears, so scrambled that Krisel had to filter out all but the strongest signals. By the time they came into visual range of the Bet/Med nexus, they had sorted out enough of the garbage to get the gist of what was going on, but by then they could see for themselves that trouble was ahead. The Bet/Med nexus could not be seen because the Bet/Med nexus was not there.

"Diverting traffic… to Begomie… all Bethel bound spacecraft… going… unexplained… detour… " Even at the close range they were in the communications of the ships that had gathered to jump into the nexus was garbled and unclear. Clea stared out of the forward viewers to the sight before her, the scattered particles that glowed green and spread over the entire viewable area of space.

"What's that?" Clea puzzled as she saw something out of place. "Delora, what is that?"

"What is what?" Dolora was busy trying to get an analysis on the debris they were seeing.

"That ship… that transport ship is from Calacomest. What is it doing out here? Those little transits only run between short range systems. Why would it be all the way out here?"

"I don't know," Delora glanced up but then looked back to her readout. "What matter that it’s out here?"

"It's strange is all. It's an awfully long way from its home," Clea stopped her mind from processing the idea any further as her eyes traveled over the scope of space, the glowing debris that was getting thicker as they moved toward it, and the chaotic voices that passed over the subspace link. A cold creeping sensation began to seep through her stomach as she listened to the confused, broken messages sent back and forth between the ships and she glanced down to the display that Gannet was maniacally sorting through.
 

"Gannet," she said quietly, keeping her voice at an even tone. "What's the theoretical make up of a nexus point?"

"Well Clea theoretically, and this is a condensed version at best, a nexus point is nothing but intensely compressed energy in the form of a black hole. Contained by the magic of the gods it's a usable entry that bridges the gap between nexus points, which then become the leylines."

"And if something happened to disrupt this containment… what would we see?"

 
"Its makeup, in an uncontained form, would be one of radiation, gamma rays…"
 

"High level radiation, x-rays…" Clea finished the list, mumbling frantically. "Away… away… get us away!" Her fingers were a blur as they moved over the control panel, and the ship banked hard to port as Clea changed their heading. "Krisel… full power on this heading… now!" Clea pulled up a map of the area of space they were in, glanced over it hastily. "Gannet, judging by the amount of traffic here, diverting to Begomie would take how long? An hour in open space then how long from there to Bethel?"

"Begomie to Bethel is about a two hour jump. But there's no accounting for the level of traffic that might be gathered there already, and how long it would take to get through that."

Clea was muttering to herself as she charted an alternate course. "How can this be happening… it was fine when we were here before!" She glanced up at Gannet, who watched her with the eyes of someone who knows that something is more that what it seems. "Just two hours ago…two hours!" She looked away, looked back to her display. "We could go here to here…" she hoped no one noticed that her finger was trembling as she pointed out the alternate routes they could take, "but that would take just as long… back to Medius and then through here… would take the rest of the day…" It was Gannet's voice that broke her manic rambling.

"Well there's always Oracuu." Clea's gazed fixed upon the holographic image before her, to the system of Oracuu which was displayed in a deep purple color, showing that it was heavily guarded, and not a place of easy travel. Oracuu was shrouded in even more secrecy than Tal-Min Vista but Clea nodded her head as she did the math of how long the journey would take. She looked to Gannet who stared at her steadily. "But Clea… no matter which way we go you won't get back to Bethel in time for Twilight Bloom."

"Krisel, lock in a course to Oracuu."

"Course plotted and locked in, Clea."

"ETA?"

"Two hours, twenty one minutes travel time. But there's no accounting for the permits, verification of intention, confirmation of identification…"

Clea smiled tightly. "Just leave those worries to me, Krisel."
 

"What do you make of that whole thing going on back there?" Delora continued to comb through the readouts of energy, the strange waves that crossed the readout of what was polluting the area where the Bet/Med nexus should be… but wasn't. "It's reading like a black hole now…just a black hole where there used to be a contained nexus point. How could that be?"

"I'm not sure, Delora. But those gamma rays and high level radiation was going to do nothing but harm to our holographic matrix. Gannet—"

"I'll run another diagnostic on the way to Oracuu." His fingers typed effortlessly on the keypad but he looked up at Clea when she glanced at him. On a locked slider of the running board along the control panel, Clea typed in a code and a little door slid open. She tossed her regular wrist cron into the compartment and pulled out a much more elaborate device and strapped it to her wrist. As she prompted the panel door shut, she gave a private, meaningful look to Gannet and his eyes narrowed, then he nodded slightly.

"It's like the nexus point was destroyed. But how?" Krisel muttered as he analyzed the data of what they'd heard, lowered the volume of the garbled voices that continued to feed through the channel. "Have you ever heard of anything more unusual than that?"

Clea broke her gaze from Gannet before she accidentally might have begun answering that question.

CHAPTER 28

"Did you see Clea when she got back today, Riley?"

Quade walked a casual circle around Duplicity as he led the way out of the hangar, being sure that their path allowed them to completely skirt around Clea's ship.

"No… I saw Krisel." The hangar chief who walked with him reached into his pocket to find his hailing beacon. He squeezed a lever at its side and sent out a request for a public transport. "He loaded the docking sequence, passed by and gave me a nod on his way out but I never did see Clea anywhere. Not that I was particularly looking but," he paused, pulling on his coat as they walked out of the bay doors and into the chilly night air. "I generally don't miss an opportunity to look at Clea when she's around." Quade laughed politely but glanced back over his shoulder at the darkened hull of Duplicity as she sat motionless in her berth. No running lights, no glow from standby panels inside… no way for Clea to still be on the ship with life support being shut down completely like that. Where had she gone? Did she even come back at all?

"The SanFear would not speak to you, Quade! It was a dream! Just a dream!" Echo and Mimic had been scolding him inside his mind ever since he'd left P'cadia and he'd been ignoring them as efficiently as he had ignored them for months until just a few days ago. His determination had made it easier. The nightmare had been so clear and so wrenching he'd no choice but to follow his instincts. He had to get home to Bethel. It was a relief to see that it was still here when he'd finally gotten back, though it did lend validation to the emissaries' constant chiding that it was in fact, just another dream and not the premonition that he feared it might have been.

"I'll be here tomorrow afternoon Quade… is there a message you want me to give Clea, if she happens to show up?" The hum of a transport came from the road as it neared the two men.

"No, no," Quade replied nonchalantly. "It's nothing, I'll talk to her tomorrow. Twilight Bloom and all, I'm sure she'll be around." Quade moved away from the subject swiftly. "Anything else going on around here? Anything unusual?"

"You didn’t hear yet?" Riley turned to face Quade, his posture shocked. "You didn't hear about what happened this afternoon?"

Quade held his breath as he steeled himself for the worst, and had to make a conscious effort to keep his voice from quivering as he spoke. "Hear about what?"

"It was nearly a disaster my friend. Be glad you weren't here to see it." Riley paused to pull a tobacco roll out of a leather pouch in his jacket, and Quade was nearly mad with fretful anticipation over what he would say next. Disaster! What kind of disaster?

"Lots of traffic these past few days, more so than usual. Sure, it's always a little crazy roundabout Twilight Bloom, lots of people coming to see it… but this year… really unprecedented! Anyway, you know that flock of morning doves that comes to roost in the loft every year?" Quade couldn't speak, only nodded. "Well, they usually come the week after Twilight Bloom but this year, they showed up early! And as they were flying in to the loft, they passed directly in front of a freighter as it was coming in on manual control. So the pilot swerves to avoid the birds but he lands off center, shears the bottom of his stabilizer element right off, and the vapors travel right up the ventilation shaft where the birds have gone to roost! What a disaster!" Riley shook his head, remembering his near calamity earlier that day. "It took myself and four other guys to get the birds out of there and keep them away while we cleared the air in the shaft. Those fumes would make them dizzy, unable to fly. Could've been a really big catastrophe, ya know?"

Quade stared at his friend for a moment, dumfounded. Was there ever a time when an event as trivial as this would have fallen into the category of 'disaster?'

"Yeah, Riley that would've been a real mess."

The hangar chief slid into the back of the transport and leaned out the door. "Hey Quade… are you hungry? Want to stop by my place for a bit?" Quade smiled at what might've normally been a welcome invitation, but shook his head.

"Thanks for the offer but I have to decline. Busy day tomorrow."

"Oh, right. Sorry I have to miss it this time, but I'll be here, taking care of those last minute arrivals."

"There's always next year, Riley." He exchanged a brief handshake with his friend and turned to go. "G'night."
 

Quade headed toward the spot where his land transport was waiting, trying not to look like he was walking as fast as he was.