The Ninth
Authors: Benjamin Schramm
The Ninth
Copyright 2014
Benjamin Schramm
Jack hated Navy ships, every Weaver did. Too many clashing emotions churning within them. If
anything
else had been responsible for the summons he could have taken the time to arrange a private transport, but there was no avoiding Lazarus. The jumbled mass of emotions became rigid as the multitude of feelings shifted into an overwhelming sense of fear – the ship had to be jumping now. A lesser Weaver would have been forced to the ground or started crying out in pain at the sudden rush of such emotions, but Jack was beyond such things. He had endured
far
worse. It helped that he knew the source of their fear and, although he’d never admit it openly, shared in it. Somewhere in the ship the Wall was slowly carving it in two.
As if merely thinking its name had summoned it, the Wall penetrated the cabin ahead. Jack took a deep breath and steadied himself as it approached. What had moments ago been the firm metal of his cabin was now a transparent pane granting him an unobstructed view of the black abyss of space lingering just outside the ship. He knew intellectually the necessity of the jump drive, and that the Commonwealth couldn’t exist without it, but as the black stillness inched closer he couldn’t help but dread it. The Wall was the division between here and there, with Jack’s half slowly entering the Wall while the front sections of the ship waited some light-years ahead. As it made contact he shivered as the unsettling sensation moved through him. One single miscalculation, one unexpected flux in conditions and the Wall could collapse, slicing him in two. At least that would be a quick death. Far worse mishaps had occurred.
As the Wall passed over him he was greeted with the supreme sense of relief that filled the crew. Jack smiled to himself. It didn’t matter how many jumps a crew had made, seeing the Wall always tore away at their confidence. Always. They might hide their fear from each other but not from him; no one could, not from a Master Weaver. However, there was more to this relief than usual. Every successful jump was greeted by such emotions, but these were deeper – richer. The ship had arrived at its destination. There wouldn’t be any more jumps. Jack had reached Lazarus.
Wanting to avoid thoughts of his summons, he fiddled with his chair’s control panel until the nearby monitor sprang to life with an external view of the ship. The proud Navy ship was gracefully gliding silently through the inky blackness, approaching the station in orbit above Tricra. Even at this distance Jack could make out the Independent Traders Union emblem proudly illuminated above every docking grid. Hanging like dim stars haloing the station were dozens of ships in their holding patterns. He could feel their frustrations at the edge of his awareness. Jack’s arrival had delayed many traders. For the ITU to bow to the will of the government to this extreme reinforced the importance of his mission. It comforted Jack that his ship was docking much faster than usual, and those frustrated captains would be back to their routines shortly.
The ship shook a bit as the docking seals locked on. Jack collected his equipment and left his cabin. Walking down the endless corridors of the ship, Jack made his way to the nearest disembarking chamber. Every now and then Jack caught a crewmember scurrying out of sight, as if staying out of sight would conceal them from a Master Weaver. Typical thinking of the Navy – appearance was everything. They paraded around in their neatly pressed uniforms in their gleaming white ships as troopers did the real work on the worlds below.
Reaching the chamber he found it lined with armed guards dressed in neatly pressed uniforms. The way they moved betrayed them for Protectorates, glorified law enforcement from the planet pretending to be troopers. The two columns saluted and kept a distance farther than was respectable. Their nervousness was overbearing. Ignoring them completely, Jack continued on through without hesitation. Their nervousness had shifted to palpable fear and he didn’t want to endure it any longer than necessary. Much to his annoyance, the Protectorate group fell into formation behind him and followed like some sort of homecoming parade.
Emerging into the ITU station Jack found it evacuated; not a single civilian or maintenance worker was on this half of the station. The grandiose hall was obviously designed for the flowing of thousands of passengers through it. Without the hustle and bustle, Jack could take in the overly tall architecture that was so inefficient on an orbiter but served its purpose of reminding the stations’ patrons of the power of the ITU – they could afford the wasted space.
“Weaver Davis. You’re late,” a voice shouted from the far end of the hall near the drop pods.
Jack smiled. Despite the distortion caused by the room, he knew that voice. Instead of heading toward the voice, Jack started marching in a quick pace that was almost a run, making quick, random ninety-degree turns. The Protectorates in formation behind him struggled to keep up, and Jack could hear the burst of laugher from across the hall.
“Okay, okay, I get it, Jack. Landing Escort dismissed!” the voice shouted between chuckles.
At once the Protectorate formation behind Jack dropped to the ground, huffing and puffing out of breath. No trooper worth their training would allow such a disgraceful display. Satisfied with himself, Jack headed to the drop pods. As he expected, Nathan was standing near a waiting pod, his personal guards already stiffening uneasily at Jack’s approach. Government men from the looks of them.
“What’s with the formality,
Director
Bloom?” Jack asked, entering the pod.
“It’s this whole mess, Jack. It has everyone on edge.” Nathan shrugged, entering behind Jack.
“I told you to shut down Lazarus years ago, Nathan.”
Nathan waved off the armed guards standing outside, and at once the drop pod detached from the station and started to fall to the planet below.
“I should have listened to you, Jack, but what’s done is done. But now isn’t the time for ‘I told . . .”
“I told you so.”
“Yes you did, but you can, and I’m sure will, gloat later.”
“How much
wasn’t
in the summons, Nathan?”
“Quite a bit; couldn’t trust normal channels for this one.”
“Surely you don’t suspect moles.”
“Not likely, but we can’t trust
anyone
with this information. I had to pull some serious strings to bring
you
in on this.”
“Thank you? At any rate, how did you get the ITU on board?”
“We didn’t. We demanded they clear the station for your arrival without so much as a hint why.”
“And of course your silence spoke volumes.”
“The joys of politics,” Nathan said as he shook his head in dismay. “The less we say, the worse they think it is. I was never cut out for political doublespeak. I could have certainly used you around here.”
“You know I can’t read minds.”
“I know that, Jack, but you can tell when they feel wrong, when they know they are lying.”
“That raises the question of if they ever speak the truth.”
“Touché. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything big.”
“You don’t have to worry about that, Nathan. Nothing exciting for a while. They got me on babysitting duty, schooling the young Weavers.”
“Ironic.”
“How so?”
“That’s what I need you for.”
“I didn’t know you were married.”
“I’m not.”
The pod came to gentle rest in an alcove on the top of a large tower in the center of a facility that was clearly designed by the artistically challenged drones of the military. Colorless walls outlined square boxes that were no doubt just cramped enough to suit the purpose they were designed for. Armed Protectorates lined the landing pad, anxiously scanning the horizon, oblivious to the drop pod. Nathan motioned for Jack to follow him into the elevator before the guards took too much notice of them.
“Security always this tight?” Jack asked as the elevator started its descent.
“Hardly. Not one success in hundreds of years. Lazarus caught us with our pants down.”
“Skipping the obvious I told you so, I’m guessing this time it really worked. What did you bring back?”
“Not what, Jack, who. And to answer that question, we don’t really know.”
“How can you not know? Wasn’t someone running the thing?”
“Yes, and it was under constant surveillance, too.”
“So how can you not know?”
“Because the whole thing went nova on us. Most of the staff were killed, and the mainframe with all the stored information was obliterated. I was lucky to be offsite begging for more funds when it happened.”
The elevator came to an abrupt halt after a time too short for it to have reached the base of the tower. The doors opened to the sound of blaring alarms and flashing lights. Impossible to hear Nathan, Jack nodded and followed silently. Specialists in hazard suits were taking readings while work crews were welding together loose bits of scrap metal. What had once been the neat, orderly hallways of the facility were now warped with massive scorch markings everywhere. Taking in his surroundings and shifting through the anxious emotions of the work crews, Jack lost track of Nathan.
Looking ahead, he found Nathan standing still, staring off down the hallway. Jack could feel the regret and sorrow from his old friend. Standing beside him, Jack was overwhelmed. There was nothing beyond where they stood; below was a large empty cavern. A massive, empty sphere was below; sparks falling from the damaged power grid illuminated the remaining warped and twisted walls and bulkheads. It was as if some creature had taken a bite out of the underbelly of the facility. Nathan led Jack down a series of hastily assembled ladders and bridges. As they descended further into the emptiness, the blazing lights and alarms faded into the distance.
“I’m surprised this place is still standing,” Jack said in awe when he was sure Nathan could hear him clearly.
“Thankfully, we chose one of the old fortresses left over from the Great War to house the research complex. If we hadn’t, Tricra itself would have been destroyed.”
“You can’t be serious, Nathan. Surely that’s an exaggeration.”
“That is one of the only facts we are certain of at this point. The portal made a stable link for the first time. However, almost at once matter started to pour out of the gateway, before anyone could . . .”
“Wait, Nathan. Matter poured
out
of the Lazarus gate? I’m not a temporal engineer, but I know my basics. Isn’t that impossible?”
“Not impossible, but highly improbable. There were events with the Chronos gate of emissions and unusable links, but those problems were solved a long time ago. Supposedly, all contingencies of unusable links were banned in the mainframe long before either of us was born.”
“And yet here we stand. I always had a bad feeling about Lazarus but never dreamed it would end up like this.”
“None of us did, Jack. Even the doomsayers are in stunned silence.”
“So what happened after the stable link?”
“Well, before anyone realized what was happening, a massive explosion erupted from the gate. Apparently the explosion triggered a failsafe in the fortress, and it rerouted the
entirety
of the Lazarus power grid.”
“Rerouted it to what?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. The explosion killed anyone near enough to hazard an educated guess and destroyed any evidence left over. The point is, whatever it was that the failsafe did, it saved us all. The orbiting scanners all came up the same, an “unknown energy signature.” Then they fried out. That energy signature was off the charts, more than enough to envelop the entire planet. But in the end, this cavern is the extent of the damage.”
“I’ll never make fun of our worrywart ancestors again. However, that still doesn’t explain why you summoned me here, officially no less.”
“I didn’t know who else to turn to. When I came back to the facility it was in chaos. Dead bodies were everywhere, and the military was swarming over the place. I never want to go through that again.”
“Nathan . . .”
“It’s all right Jack; I’ve gotten over the worst of it. I brought you here because you might stand a chance where we’ve all failed.”
“Failed? What are you talking about?”
“At the base of the pit we found something, someone. We can’t even get close to it.”
They had reached the end of the catwalks. Large groupings of containment tents lined the floor of the chamber. Jack had seen similar tents used in training scenarios. Despite their fragile appearance, they were quite sturdy and created a clean room environment in their interiors. Nathan lifted a flap and entered; Jack followed with questions still remaining. The two stood still in the makeshift room as it purged them of outside contaminates. Scientists and armed guards filled the tents, too busy with their tasks to notice the two newcomers. Jack instantly realized the guards were elite troopers from the military. The few who bothered to return his glances showed no fear of the Weaver. Nathan led him deeper toward the center of the grouping. Ahead, Jack noticed heavy weapons platforms, enough to hold off an assault even from the ancient enemy long since gone from the Great War. The platforms ringed a large dome. It was a semi-transparent material that wafted in the small breeze of the clean room ventilation. Nathan stood just behind the weapons and their operators. Staring into the dome, Jack could make out a small form.
