Faster Than Light: Babel Among the Stars

9.

Sethtook a deep breath. He looked at the metal warehouse door in frontof him. The I.S.S. Illustrious was inside. He was so closehe could almost taste freedom.

Theplan worked just as he hoped. He didn’t see a single Republicsoldier between the makeshift dance hall and the warehouse. Theywere all dispersed throughout the station, either investigating thehull breach or the fake distress call from the commissar’searpiece.

Nomatter how elite the guards were, they simply weren’t prepared. Like everyone else in the Republic, they lived a relaxed life. Therewere no wars, few skirmishes, and very little crime. All of theirexperience was training. For years, they ran through simulations andexercises. They prepared for invasions that would never happen. They memorized routines and procedures until they could perform themin their sleep.

Whenan explosion rocked the exterior wall at the station, they knewexactly what to do. They knew how to contain the damage and preventintruders from boarding. When Seth told them that the commissar washurt, they fell back on their training. They’d performed hundredsof simulated extraction missions. Undoubtedly, they descended on thecommand center in perfect formation, ready to retake it and rescuetheir leader.

Butthey were never ready for an attack from within. They were taughtfrom childhood that the Republic was perfect, and that anyone whoopposed it was unstable or insane. They could have never expectedthat anyone on board the station for the Forbearance Day celebrationwould turn against them, use their own training to foil them andbetray the Republic.

Sethreached out and pressed the button next to the warehouse door. Hereadied his gun in front of him. There would still be people inside. Even if all of the guards abandoned the ship, there were stillengineers and workmen. They were preparing the Illustrious fordecommission.

Hedoubted if they would put up a fight. Just like the men and women inthe dance hall, they were not invested in the outcome of the SpatialPreservation Act. They wouldn’t risk their lives to enforce it. Hopefully they would just let him board the Illustrious andleave. While he wasn’t going to let anyone stand in his way, healso didn’t want to have to hurt anyone.

Asthe door slid open, Seth peered inside. The Illustrious tookup most of the floor space of the warehouse. There weren’t anysoldiers in sight. Even the guards inside the warehouse must haveresponded to one of the emergencies elsewhere on the station. Forjust a moment, Seth was sure he’d won. But then he stepped intothe warehouse.

Threeworkmen surrounded the Illustrious. At first, Seth thoughtthey were just cleaning the ship. Then he saw one of them raise hishand towards the ship. He was wearing a kinetic glove.

Sethfelt his heart bottom out as he saw a long sliver of shimmering metalfloat from the side of the vessel. They were already taking itapart. He recognized the part they were removing. It was the heatisolation coil, which modulated the temperature on the ship duringthe massive energy surge during a Heilmann Leap. To even reach theheat isolation coil, the workmen would need to disassemble some ofthe most complex parts of the faster-than-light engine.

Hewas too late. Even if he could convince them to try and put it backtogether, they probably wouldn’t know how. The few people whocould assemble a Heilmann Drive were already isolated in Republicfacilities on Earth. None of them would be on the Europa station,and none of them would be tasked with the destruction of the ships.

Wasthis it? Was this the end? Anger flooded over Seth. Withoutthinking, he slammed his hand into the bulkhead.

Thethree engineers stopped moving. They looked up at him. The oneholding the isolation coil flinched, causing his kinetic glove togive out. The thin piece of metal fell to the ground and shattered,rendering the ship even more useless.

Sethstared at the engineers. They were stunned. They didn’t expectanyone to interrupt them. In just a few seconds, they would signalthe guards. All of the other operations would be called off. Everysolider on the Europa Station would turn against Seth. It would allbe over. He would be lucky to make it out of this with his life.

No. He couldn’t give up. Not now. There was still hope. There wasstill one more starship aboard the station. The I.S.S. Monitor. It would still be intact. After all, the Republic planned ontelevising the first steps of its destruction at midnight.

Withthe Illustrious halfway to scrap metal, the Monitor wasthe last starship in the galaxy. It was the only one left. If Sethdidn’t take it, it would be decommissioned. And faster-than-lighttravel would end forever.

Sethraised his gun as he charged into the warehouse bay. “Nobodymove!” he shouted. “Everyone, put your hands up. If you eventhink about calling for help, I will blow your rims-damnedhead off!”

Thethree engineers were still. Just as Seth hoped, danger paralyzedthem. They were no better than the Republic soldiers, accustomed totheir training patterns. A slight disruption in their routineexistence was enough to send them into shock.

“What... What do you want?” One of them asked as Seth approached. “Whatis going on?”

Sethtook a deep breath. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted, other thantime. The repair bay that housed the Monitor was on the otherside of the Europa Station. “Earpieces!” Seth shouted. “Earpieces and tablets, put them on the ground.”

Theengineers didn’t object. One by one, they took out theirearpieces. They removed their tablets from their pockets. And theyput the devices at their feet.

Sethwaved his gun between the three men. “Now step on them. Breakthem, so I know you can’t call for help.”

Timidly,the engineers placed their feet on theelectronics and smashed theminto obsolescence. Without tablets or earpieces, the engineers wouldbe unable to contact the guards for a few minutes. Unless, ofcourse, they used the control panel near the door.

Witha flick of his wrist, Seth pointed the gun at the first engineer’sleg. BANG! He collapsed, grabbing at his thigh. The othertwo broke for the door, realizing that they were going to be shot nomatter what. Seth steadied his aim. BANG! He took down thesecond man. BANG! The third fell to the ground.

Thiswasn’t what Seth wanted to happen He wanted it to be easy. Hedidn’t want to hurt anyone. But all three engineers would live, aslong as they didn’t try anything foolish.

Sethplaced his gun in his jacket and approached the nearest man, the onewho’d been holding the isolation coil. He reached down and grabbedthe engineer’s arm. With a quick motion, he ripped the kineticglove from his hand.

“I’msorry about this,” Seth said. He sighed, strapping the gloveacross his own fingers. “I hope you understand someday.” Atingle of electricity tickled across his palm. Seth had used akinetic glove before, when he was a shooter on his primary schoolforceball team. But that was a low power model, intended forrecreational use. This was strong enough to take apart a starship,and he hoped he could control it.

Sethwalked towards the control panel near the door of the warehouse. Hethrust out his hand and twitched his index finger. A wave of energyflew from the glove and latched onto the front end of the wall. Sethyanked his arm backwards and ripped the entire panel from thesurrounding bulkhead. Sparks flew everywhere as Seth dropped it onthe ground next to the door.

Ifthe glove could pick apart a Heilmann Drive or tear a wall to pieces,it was strong enough to be a weapon. And Seth knew that he neededevery weapon he could get if he was going to make his way to theI.S.S. Monitor.

*

Bynow, the guards would be returning to their posts. They’d sealedoff the hull breach and figured out that no one boarded the station. They’d reached the command center and discovered that Seth’s callfor help was a ruse. Commissar Absalom may have even re-establishedcommunications with them and informed them that Seth was the realthreat. At best, they would be securing the other parts of thestation. At worst, they would be after him en masse.

Sethmoved through the hall slowly. He held his pistol in his left hand,extended towards the nearby door. His right hand, wrapped in thekinetic glove, hovered near the barrel of the weapon. He was readyto react at the first sign of trouble, though he wasn’t sure whatthat would mean.

Theguards were just doing their job. They weren’t responsible for anyof this. They served the Republic, but that didn’t mean theydeserved to die. Seth hoped he wouldn’t have to kill any of them. But if they got in his way, he wouldn’t hesitate to take thenecessary measures. The fate of humanity itself was at stake.

Sethwas sure he would fail. The repair bay housing the I.S.S. Monitorwas too far away. But it didn’t matter any more. Even if hestopped now, he would spend the rest of his life in prison fortreason. He had to keep going, even if he was marching to his owndeath.

Asoft swishing noise alerted Seth to a door near the left end of thehall. He turned just in time to see a heavyset man in a dark reduniform step from the adjacent passage. He was carrying a laserrifle. Seth didn’t hesitate. He flung his right arm around andflicked his index finger forward. A blast of energy flew from thekinetic glove and slammed the guard into the wall.

Beforethe large man could react, Seth rushed forward. He tucked his pistolinto his jacket and grabbed the guard’s laser rifle. He swung theweapon around and pointed it at its former owner.

Forjust a second, he considered killing the guard. It would be easyenough. One blast from the laser rifle would take him out in aninstant. He probably wouldn’t even feel any pain, and he certainlywouldn’t be able to do anything to get in Seth’s way again.

Sethcouldn’t do it. Not like this. Not with the man staring up athim, defenseless. Seth lowered the rifle and thrust his right palmtowards the guard. He triggered the kinetic glove and slammed theguard’s head into the bulkhead behind him.

He’dbe knocked unconscious for a few minutes and he might have some minorbrain damage, but it was nothing the medics couldn’t fix if theygot to him in time. And it was better than the alternative.

Nowthe clock was really ticking. Once the guard woke up, he’d be ableto get to a radio and tell every soldier on the station where Sethwas headed. Seth couldn’t waste any more time. He broke into arun towards the repair bay, still clutching the laser rifle againsthis body with his left arm.

Sethknew every passageway to take and every checkpoint to avoid. As theadrenaline surged in his veins, he could see everything clearly. Itwas all coming together...just as long as no one got in his way.

Sethturned the corner and looked down the long hallway towards the doorsof the repair bay. This was it. All he had to do was make it to theend of the hall. Then the I.S.S. Monitor would be his for thetaking.

Adoor to his left slid open. Seth twisted his arm around andtriggered the kinetic glove. Before he even saw the Republicsoldier, Seth picked him up off of the ground. He lifted him intothe air and pulled him out into the middle of the hall.

Theguard froze as he hovered several feet from the floor. He wascarrying a laser rifle, too, but was so panicked that he didn’teven try to use it. Instead, he just stared at Seth. He watched andwaited for Seth it kill him.

Sethwasn’t going to do it. He was just going to throw him against thebulkhead like the last guard, knock him out, buy a little time... But then the repair bay doors started to slide open. His instinctskicked in. Seth raised his laser rifle at the levitating guard andpulled the trigger.

Thecorridor lit up as a flash of red energy flew from the tip of theweapon and struck the man in the chest. Almost immediately, Sethpulled back his right hand, disengaging the kinetic glove. The guardfell to the ground in a heap, dead.

“Hey!” The doors to the repair bay were almost completely open. Two moreRepublic soldiers were looking at Seth, but they weren’t moving tostop him. At least not yet. Even after they saw him kill one oftheir comrades, they were still paralyzed.

Therewasn’t any more time for mercy. Seth raised the rifle and peereddown the sight. Before they could even move, Seth squeezed off twomore shots.

Onceagain, the elite soldiers of the Republic were undone by theirtraining. They saw Seth, still dressed in his military uniform,attacking a fellow serviceman. This wasn’t something they trainedfor. Republic soldiers did not turn on each other. They couldn’treact. They couldn’t even fight back.

Sethlowered the rifle and charged forward. His mind was spinning, tryingto rationalize what he’d just done. A few months ago, he’dkilled two of the attackers just outside the Mid-Canada zone. Sethdidn’t feel anything then. The doctors and psychologists told himthat he should feel remorseful or depressed, anxious and traumatized.It just didn’t happen. After all, he had been defending himself. It was him or the men trying to kill him.

Thistime was different, but Seth didn’t feel any of the things theexperts talked about. Instead, he was angry. All of this felt sopointless. None of it had to happen. No one had to die. If onlythe Republic had acted reasonably, if only they hadn’t forced Sethto do all of this, then they would still be alive. For that matter,so would the attackers in the Mid-Canada zone.

Theywouldn’t be the only ones who would die. The casualties of theFall were just beginning. The trade routes were critically importantto the survival of several colonized worlds. Many of them didn’tproduce enough food to support their population and relied uponinterplanetary imports. The relocation didn’t redistribute thepopulation across the galaxy enough to solve this problem.

Seth’sfury propelled him into the repair bay. He’d already killed thetwo guards stationed near the I.S.S. Monitor. The only peopleleft in the bay were the workers. As soon as they saw Seth, theyimmediately put their hands up and surrendered. Unlike the guards,they were not trained to fight for the Republic. They weren’tgoing to lay down their lives to protect the starship. That wasn’ttheir job.

Noneof that was important. If Seth had to, he would have killed theworkers too. It wasn’t their fault. They didn’t deserve it. But it was necessary. It had to be done. The ship was what wasmattered. It had to survive. If he failed now, everything would befor naught.

AsSeth looked up at the I.S.S. Monitor, he felt his heart jump. It was a small ship, but there was something nevertheless majesticabout it. The chassis was thin, barely reinforced, and there were noweapon systems or shields to speak of. But it also was devoid ofRepublic regalia. Even the tell-tale red flag near the aft of theship was rather small. All of this was overwhelmed by the throbbingpurple glow of the Heilmann Drive.

Theship was still in working order. The workmen hadn’t even startedstripping the bulkhead panels. It was ready to fly off of thestation. This should have felt like victory for Seth. But it wasn’tenough.

Nomatter what Seth did, even if he was successful in saving this lastship, he could not prevent the coming starvation. He could not stopthe upheaval. One starship, especially a small one, was not enoughto save all the people who would suffer from the thoughtless andcowardly decision by the Republic to abandon faster-than-lighttravel. All he could do was save the engine and hope to rebuild thegreat society that they dismantled.

Thinkingabout this just made Seth even angrier. He flung his right armaround and pointed his palm at one of the workmen.

“Extendthe docking tunnel,” Seth growled. He flicked his little fingerjust enough so that the man would feel the pulse of the kinetic gloveagainst his skin. “And don’t make me ask you twice.”

Theworker didn’t need to be told twice. He hurried over to theconsole near the back of the repair bay and started typing incommands.

Adoor on the edge of the room slid open. A long jetway emerged fromthe door and snaked up towards the airlock on the side of the I.S.S.Monitor.

“Startdisengaging the docking clamps,” Seth shouted at the other worker,pointing the laser rifle at his chest. The nervous-looking manglanced towards the dead bodies near the entrance to the repair bay. That was all the convincing he needed. He ran towards the mooringsthat secured the Monitor and began to dismantle them.

Whenhe finished with the first clamp, the worker looked back at Seth. “What do you think you’re going to do? Do you really think youcan get away with this?”

“Idon’t have a choice,” Seth replied. “This is the last HeilmannDrive. They can’t build any more. If I let you take this apart,we may never travel the stars again.”

Theworker froze. He looked right at Seth, examining him closely for thefirst time. “Wait... Aren’t you the one who was telling us thiswould all be fine? Week after week, you appeared on those awfulbroadcasts and said that the Fall was for the best, and that itwasn’t permanent.”

Sethgritted his teeth. “I lied. Hurry up.”

“Butwasn’t your job to protect us? You said they can’t build anotherstarship. Weren’t you supposed to prevent that from happening?”

“That’swhat I’m doing right now.” Seth shook the laser rifle at theworker. “And I need you to quit talking because I don’t havemuch time.”

Thecovered jetway reached the starship’s airlock and connected with aloud thunk! The man operating the docking controls sighed. “If the guards aren’t here, it means they’re just waiting toshoot you out of the sky.”

Sethfelt his stomach lurch. He was probably right. The Republic hadthree squadrons of low-atmosphere fighters at Europa station. A fewlaser blasts or a single missile would be enough to bring down theMonitor. It didn’t have any shields. It was barelyarmored.

“Thenthey will shoot me out of the sky,” Seth said, swallowing his fear. “So what? Would that be any worse than what will happen to thisship if I do nothing?”

Hestarted to walk towards the jetway, and the two workers just watchedhim. Seth lowered the laser rifle and started to take the kineticglove off of his right hand. They weren’t going to try and stophim. They were on his side.

Sethran up the jetway towards the airlock. Before he was even there, theworkers opened the door for him. Just like the citizens in the dancehall, they wanted to see him succeed. They were on his side.

*

Thecommand center of the I.S.S. Monitor was surprisinglyintimidating.

Sethtook a second to re-orient himself. It was a sterile, gray room. There were two consoles near the front, flanking a large viewscreen. A row of panels near the back displayed various information about theship: energy levels, hull integrity, and visual images from camerasstationed on the exterior bulkheads. Two dark red plush seats werebolted to the floor in the middle of the room.

Thiswasn’t what he expected. He could still remember the commandcenter he saw in the dream of the gnostin. There were fewer screensand panels. Everything he recognized was in a different spot acrossthe room. It was all wrong.

Thecontrols should have been similar enough. There were very specificsteps that needed to happen before take-off, and they were allrelatively universal. A trained pilot would know all of this. Atrained pilot would understand what all the control panels did, andcould move from one ship to another without any problems. But allSeth knew was the exact instructions he’d been given. He knew whatbuttons to press, not what they did. It was like the gnostin trainedhim to fly a very specific ship...and it wasn’t this one.

Hecouldn’t let that stop him.

Sethran from panel to panel, trying to figure out which was which. Whenhe found something he recognized, he tapped in the orders heremembered from the gnostin dream. He engaged the life supportsystems, which would keep atmosphere pumping through the vents acrossthe ship. He began cycling the Heilmann Drive. Once that was done,he sealed the airlocks, engaged the diagnostic systems, and fired upthe impulse engines. With that last step, Seth felt the ship shakebeneath his feet. It was lifting off.

Hisheart skipped a beat as he realized what was happening. He hadcontrol of the ship. This was it. This was the last step. Seth ranover to the main pilot’s console and sat down. Everything else hehad to do, he would do from here. It had controls for both theimpulse engine and the Heilmann Drive.

First,Seth needed to take off from the station. He had to pilot the shipfar enough away from the surface of Europa that a Heilmann leapwouldn’t damage the station or the moon itself. Then he had toleap before the fighter squadrons could shoot him down. That was it. In theory, it seemed so simple.

Sethremembered the workers in the repair bay. Taking off while they werestill in the bay would kill them. Hopefully, they were smart enoughto leave on their own. But he had to make sure. He stood up fromthe pilot’s console and hurried to the communication controls. Hetapped a few keys on the panel. The view-screen at the front of theroom flickered to life, showing a camera feed from outside of theMonitor.

Hehoped to see an empty repair bay. Instead, the workers were stillthere. And they weren’t alone. Commissar Absalom and fourRepublic soldiers were standing in the doorway, talking to them. Thediscussion looked heated.

Sothe Commissar managed to escape the dance hall... Seth wasn’tsurprised, but he was disappointed. Absalom was the only one whocould stop him. All the other soldiers were paralyzed by theirtraining and their upbringing in the Republic. Absalom wasdifferent. He was born and raised on Vangelia. He was a fighter,and he knew plenty about betrayal and deception. If he was back inthe game, he immediately became the most dangerous obstacle in Seth’spath.

Theexterior cameras on the Monitor were designed for use inspace, so they were not paired with microphones or other soundrecording equipment. Seth could only watch the argument between theCommissar and the workers unfold.

“Getout of there!” Seth yelled at the screen, though they couldn’thear him. He ran back to the pilot controls. His fingers found thecommand to open the main gate of the repair bay. With a few quickmotions, he could begin decompression and force all of them out. Buthe didn’t want to. He didn’t want to see the workers die.

Ashe watched them, he realized that they were standing up for him. They were stopping the Republic soldiers from advancing on the I.S.S.Monitor. The two men who helped him board the ship were standingin front of the laser rifles, refusing to budge. Commissar Absalomwas yelling something. Seth wasn’t sure if he was chastising theworkers or his own soldiers.

Forjust a moment, Seth felt good. He wasn’t alone. There were othersin the Republic who agreed with him. These two men, down in therepair bay, were willing to stand up to their government to help himescape. It warmed his heart.

Thenthe screen flashed with crimson light. The two workers fell to theground. Thin plumes of smoke rose from their bodies. They weredead. The soldiers killed them.

Seth’sentire body trembled. His skin went flush. All of the fury he feltbefore returned to him, redoubled in strength. Absalom murdered twopeople because of his ridiculous belief in the Fall. He thought itwas right: he thought that humanity deserved to be struck down fromthe heavens, and he was willing to destroy anything in his path.

Therewas no longer a reason to hesitate. Seth didn’t care what happenedto Absalom and his soldiers. They could freeze in space and Sethwouldn’t blink back a single tear. His fingers flew across thepilot console, sending a command down to the station to open therepair bay airlock.

Aloud klaxon broke through the silence. Red lights flashed within thebay. Absalom’s soldiers, who were about to approach the jetwayonto the I.S.S. Monitor, panicked. They ran for the door nearthe back, where the dead workers still smoldered. Absalom tried toturn them back, to force them on ahead in the face of impendingdecompression, but they wouldn’t listen. This time, the soldiersrefused the orders of their manic commander. They pushed him backtowards the door before the repair bay gates opened up into thevacuum.

Sethwas disappointed. In the heat of the moment, he wanted to blow themall out into space. He wanted to end the threat of Commissar Absalomonce and for all. And Seth wouldn’t have even needed to feelguilty about it. If Absalom remained and was killed by thedecompression within the repair bay, it would be because of his ownfoolish stubbornness.

Asit was, the commissar and his soldiers managed to escape before thebay doors slid open. They would live to see another day. Sethjogged over to the communications controls and changed the display onthe view-screen. Now he watched through the camera on the top of theI.S.S. Monitor. It showed the repair bay slowly creakingopen.

Sethreturned to the pilot’s console. He positioned his hands on theimpulse engine controls. Slowly, he maneuvered the ship towards theopening bay doors. It was shaky at first—Seth had never flownanything bigger than a hovercab—but the buttons were intuitiveenough that he found his footing by the time he was a few dozen yardsin the air.

Theship lifted past the repair bay doors, into the low atmosphere ofEuropa. Seth’s hands shook as he piloted the Monitor awayfrom the station and towards the depths of space. By now, thefighter ships docked at Europa were taking off. Maybe they were inthe air. They probably had orders to shoot him down on sight, andthere was nothing he could do to defend himself. Even if the Monitorhad weapons, they were at a separate console, and Seth could notoperate them while flying the ship.

Thisshould have been victory. Seth had the ship, he was approaching asafe distance to leap away from Europa, and nothing had managed tostop him yet. Just when he was about to let himself feel a littlevictorious, the viewscreen at the front of the command center startedto flicker.

Sethlooked up. The familiar face of Commissar Phaer Absalom filled thescreen, dwarfing Seth at the pilot’s controls. The commissar lookeduncharacteristically downtrodden. The rings under his eyes weredarker than usual. His face was slick with sweat. His browtwitched. He was rubbing his hobbled leg with his left hand andwasn’t even bothering to hide the movement.

“Stopthis right now!” Absalom shouted. “What do you think you’redoing?”

“Didn’tI tell you back on the station?” Seth asked. “I’m saving thisship.”

Absalomscoffed. “No, you’re not.” He gritted his teeth and staredthrough the view-screen with his piercing blue eyes. “You are atraitor and a mad man. I should have never trusted you. I know thatnow. That was my mistake, and I will rectify it today.”

Ragesurged within Seth again as he remembered everything he had to do toget control of the I.S.S. Monitor. He betrayed everything hebelieved in and became a stooge to the Republic. He helped bringabout the Fall. He convinced people that it was right. Then, hekilled some of his own allies when they tried to stand up to him. Andthose were just the first of many to die because of the SpatialPreservation Act.

Sethleapt to his feet, away from the pilot’s controls. He glared atAbsalom. “You think this has anything to do with you and me?”Seth shouted. “This is about the fate of the entire galaxy! Thisis about all of humanity!”

“Yes!”Absalom exclaimed. “Yes it is! Tell me, Mr. Garland, do youremember everything I showed you? Do you remember what that preciousHeilmann Drive of yours does? It is going to destroy the fabric ofreality!”

Sethrefused to believe it. “That’s just fear talking,” he said. “You can’t just give up on everything we’ve done in the lasttwo thousand years because of one problem you don’t know how to fixyet.”

Thecommissar’s face turned bright red. The last few strands that heldtogether his composure snapped and he yelled from the screen. “Wehave reached too far, Mr. Garland! You say that I am a coward, butyou are wrong. I am the brave one, the one with the God-givenstrength and resolve to change the face of the galaxy to save itrather than let the hubris and indulgence of our species destroy it. By Aesu, even if no one else will stop you, even if I am the only onewilling to stand in your way, I will destroy you before you can doomus all.”

Therewas nothing Seth could say to respond to the commissar. The policiesof the Republic, the disturbing reports from warped space, and thereligious devotion instilled in him since childhood had blended intoa righteous fervor. If Absalom truly believed that the Fall wasimposed upon man by God, there was no way Seth could ever reach him.

Absalomwasn’t done. Now he attacked Seth’s plans. “What do you thinkyou’re going to do with a single tiny ship? Even if you somehowmanage to leap somewhere... You’ll end up dead sooner rather thanlater. Someone will shoot you out of the stars, or steal the ship,or perhaps in a moment of self-reflection you will realize what youhave done and take your own life. Just give up now. What can youaccomplish? ”

“Ican save this ship,” Seth said. “And I can find someone who canfigure out how to replicate it. I can start research on a realsolution to warped space. And I can rebuild the trade routes withoutthe Republic!” He felt his pride swelling with each proclamation. Even though he didn’t know how he would ever back up his boasts, itstill felt good. He decided to go even further. “And then I willcome back with a fleet of ships and we will conquer this crippledRepublic that has stood in the way of human progress too long.”

Absalomstared at Seth in disbelief. “Well, then I can tell my pilots thatthey are about to turn an arch-traitor into stardust.” With that,the commissar shut off the connection and the view-screen went blank.

Sethscrambled back to the communications console. He didn’t know whatmost of the buttons did, but he’d managed to get a video feed fromone of the cameras mounted on the hull before. Now he wanted to seethe view from as many of them as possible. He scrolled through theavailable viewing settings and selected one labeled “ALL EXTERIOR”.

Theview-screen at the front of the room flashed to life again. Thistime, it was divided into four quadrants, each one displaying adifferent angle outside of the Monitor. At first, Seththought he could breath a sigh of relief. There wasn’t anymovement on any of them. The entire base, and the surrounding icysurface of Europa, was entirely still.

Ashimmer of movement on the bottom left quadrant. There was action atthe exterior spaceport. Ships were taking off. Seth squinted. Justas he feared, they were low-atmosphere fighters. Standard Republicfighters were equipped with kinetically charged lasers and twomissiles—more than enough to take down the fragile Monitor.

Inthe top right, the doors to a docking bay slid open. A soft orangeglow poured from the bay. Something was lifting off. Sethrecognized it instantly. It was the ship he took to Europa, theI.S.S. Everest, a medium-sized intra-stellar cruiser. It wasa warship and police vessel. There were probably six differentweapons systems it could use to prematurely end Seth’s rebellion.

Theywere coming at him from both sides. There was no escaping with theimpulse engines. Maybe he could outrun the Everest atsub-light speeds, but the fighters would overcome him in mereminutes. He would be within missile range in seconds.

Therewas only one way to get out alive. Even though he was still withinthe atmosphere of Europa, he had to leap away. Seth rushed to thepilot console and began preparations.

TheHeilmann Drive was ready. The energy cells were full. The hullbracers were engaged. The combustion module was primed. All Sethneeded to do was put in the coordinates for the leap. A new set ofcontrols appeared on the pilot’s console. It was nothing but anumber pad displaying the digits 1 through 8.

Sethfroze as he realized that he didn’t know how to plot a HeilmannLeap. And he didn’t know where to leap.

Inall of the excitement, chaos, and desperation, this was the oneproblem Seth never anticipated. He’d overlooked it entirely. Hewasn’t even sure why. Maybe he assumed that Heilmann leaps werecalculated by the ship’s computer. Maybe he figured there would bepre-programmed options based on the major trade routes. Maybe hejust thought it would be more intuitive.

Noneof those things were true. Even looking at it, he couldn’t fathomhow spatial coordinates would be represented by a string of numberswithout zero or nine. Apparently, the Heilmann Drive used its ownproprietary number set system for calculating leap distance andposition. And it was nothing like Seth had ever encountered.

Sethglanced up at the view-screen. The fighters were closing in on oneside. The Everest was approaching from the other. He couldalready start to see the lights on the large ship. It wouldn’t belong before it could target him. He had to do something. He had toget out of there somehow.

Hisfingers reached towards the number pad. What was the worst thingthat could happen? He would program the Heilmann Drive for a leapoutside of the galaxy. No ship had ever returned from beyond thegalactic rim. Of course, no ship had ever survived being utterlyannihilated by the Republic fleet either. In this case, the devilthat Seth didn’t know seemed preferable.

Hestill hesitated. Leaping out of the galaxy wasn’t really the worstthing that could happen. If Seth accidentally leapt through acolonized world, he would destroy it. The Monitor’sHeilmann Drive would carve a thin hole through the planet andincinerate it for fuel. The planet’s orbit would destabilize andeveryone there would die.

Itwas so unlikely. There was no way, of all the places and paths inthe galaxy, his random coordinates would end up taking him through acolonized world. It was less likely than picking a needle out of ahaystack on the first try. Seth couldn’t let such a remotepossibility deter him. One leap and he would be away from thefighters, away from the missiles, and then he could take the time tolearn how to actually plot a course with the faster-than-light drive.

Withthat in mind, Seth started typing. He didn’t even know how manydigits were in an accurate set of coordinates. It didn’t matter. He was going to keep putting them in until the console stoppedletting him There was no rhyme or reason to the numbers he picked,just the first ones that popped into his mind.

4-1-2-1-5-8-5-4-1-3

Suddenlythe control panel stopped responding. Every light turned green. Then it all faded out, replacing all the other controls with twobuttons. One said “leap”. The other said “cancel”.

Sethglanced up and saw the missiles coming. There was nothing else todo. It was leap or die. Closing his eyes, he slammed his hand downon the “leap” button.

Asick feeling filled his stomach. It was the same discomfort healways felt on a Heilmann Leap. Before now, it was something he wasused to. He could trust that the ship he was on would be at itsdestination and the mild nausea would be worth it. But Seth didn’tknow where he would end up. Most likely, it would be some emptypatch of nothingness in the middle of the galaxy. But what if he’dgone outside? His spine tingled. Even he was afraid of the universebeyond the rim.

Everythingwas still. The nausea passed, as it always did. Seth placed hishands on his legs and rubbed the fabric of his uniform. He was stillin one piece.

Finally,he felt brave enough to open his eyes. He was still in the commandcenter. The lights were still on. The air was still breathable.

Sethlooked up at the view-screen. He expected and hoped to see nothingbut empty space, dotted with a few stars. Anything else from arandom leap would be odd. And if there weren’t any stars... Well,then he would know he was beyond the rim.

Atfirst, he was relieved. He saw a few distant dots of light butlittle else. It seemed as if his plan worked. He was in the middleof nowhere. Now he would be able to comb through the documentationon board the ship and hopefully figure out how to program a realHeilmann Leap.

Then,something caught Seth’s eye. There was a strange, red-coloredlight in the corner of the upper-left quadrant of the view-screen. It wasn’t a faraway star. The color was too vivid. It lookedartificial, but that was impossible.

Sethtapped a few buttons on the pilot console and switched to the impulseengines. Very carefully, he started to turn the ship. He twisted itaround so that the camera could catch more of the light source. Almost as soon as the image on the view-screen started to come intoview, Seth felt his breath catch in his throat.

Thelight was the tip of an antenna, which stretched out from a massivemetallic sphere. More lights dotted the sphere, blinking in and outof existence with a random persistence. There were wide doors nearone edge of the sphere, and a large glass observatory atop thestructure. Even the observatory was much bigger than the Monitor.

Itwas a space station.

Asfar as Seth could tell, it was in the middle of nowhere. It floatedbetween the solar systems like a deep space outpost, but looked farbigger than any outpost Seth had ever seen.

Howwas this possible? Seth couldn’t even remember the numbers he’dtyped into the console to program the leap. And yet they’d takenhim here. Even if the station was big, it was nothing more than aspeck of dust in the vast expanse of the galaxy. Leaping to such aremote and unknown location with a set of random numbers was functionally impossible. Unless, of course, the numbers weren’trandom at all.