Linkage: The Narrows of Time

Chapter 24

April 25, 2411





Kleezebee turned offthe digi-pad containing the final draft of his 1200-page historicalmanuscript entitled “Pathological Absurdity. AHistorical Profile of Twentieth Century Politics.”He had just put the finishing touches on the yearlong project, andwas ready to transmit it through subspace to his copyeditor, Dorrie,back home on Earth. It would be his second published novel in as manyyears. He hoped his new exposition would be better received by thecritics.

He leaned back in hiseasy chair, rubbed his eyes, and then stretched out his arms until heheard the bones in his elbows pop. It was almost time for his dutyshift on the bridge, which began in less than an hour. He needed toget into the sonic shower, but decided to remain in his chair a fewmore minutes to enjoy the spectacular view of the galaxy streaming byhis quarters at faster-than-light speed. He had earned the extrabreak; it had been a grueling six months in deep space.

He propped his feet upon the leather ottoman with his hands behind his head, then calledout to the computer, “Stella? Music, please.”

“Specify source andvolume,” the computer responded.

“Why break withtradition? Let’s go with Paradise Theatre, track three. Volume ten,as usual.”

“One moment,Captain.”

He closed his eyes andsang along to the lyrics when the cabin’s audio system kicked in atfull volume. The classic rock ballad dwarfed the hum of the ship’sQuantum Pulse Drive engines, and the deck plating pulsated beneathhis fleet-issued boots. Too Much Time on My Hands washis all-time favorite Styx song, something that he played rightbefore every duty shift to energize his soul. His fingers tappedalong to the thunderous beat as his mind slipped away to bask in themood-altering rhythm. Just a few more minutes, he thought—he didn’twant to leave his sanctuary. His historical writing and his musicwere his escapes.

Kleezebee’shandpicked science crew had just finished an intensive study of astellar nursery near the fleet’s two outposts in the NeethianSystem. They were a shade over two hundred light years from home onhis newly christened starship, the USS Trinity. The ship wasperforming admirably, despite a few glitches with its revolutionaryQuantum Pulse Drive engines, and the occasional problem with thegravity plating on the lower three decks.

Despite the minorsetbacks, it had been a fruitful mission thus far, highlighted by thediscovery of a scarlet-colored substance germinating in one of thenebula’s molecular clouds. His team of astrobiologists was stillanalyzing the gelatinous material, but its bio-mimetic propertieswere promising. He intended to send a full report to Fleet Operationsonce they had completed the analysis.

“Stella, music off,”he shouted to his empty cabin. “What’s the exact time?”

“Seven oh sevena.m.,” the synthesized female voice reported. “Captain, I justreceived an encrypted communiqué from Admiral Jenkins with FleetOps. Would like me to play it?”

“Yes, pipe itthrough,” Kleezebee said, moving to his work desk. He sat down andmoved a digital picture frame out of the way. He kissed his indexfinger, then touched it to his wife’s lips, which activated theliving 3D holo-cell he had recorded a year earlier. Caroline andtheir five-year-old son, Brett, were standing in front of thesouvenir lodge atop the north rim of Grand Canyon. They were smilingand waving on a glorious, sunny day in Arizona. He had not seen themsince he took command of the Trinity six months earlier.

He had met Carolinewhile waiting outside the chancellor's office during his final yearat the New York Science Academy. A whirlwind romance soon ensued,culminating in their marriage a month after he earned advanceddegrees in both physics and engineering. That same summer, he wassuccessfully recruited by Fleet Operations, rising to the rank ofcaptain in only six years.

He waved his hand overa rectangular niche in the center of his desk, activating threetwelve-inch cylinders that rose up out of the recess in a triangularformation. Once fully extended, the multi-spectral emitters poweredon, displaying a full-color, 3D representation of an elderly man’shead and shoulders, wearing a red fleet uniform with five silverstars on the collar.

Admiral Jenkinsreminded him of his olive-skinned father; short in stature, plump,and neatly groomed, with a bulging nose that was too large for hisface. Jenkins always spoke in a deliberate manner, enunciating everyword completely, just as his late father had.

“Hello, DL, I hopethis message finds you well. I’m pleased to see by your lastmission report that you and your new crew are meshing well. I lookforward to reading your final analysis of the Hawthorne Nebula, whichI expect will be riveting. Also, congratulations on receiving Fleetapproval to build the first rift-slipping prototype. It’s trulyexciting technology, which has everyone here in Fleet Operationsacting like school kids before summer break. Keep us apprised as yourun the first beta test.

“I would rather nothave to disrupt your study of the cosmos, but we have a situationbrewing. Long-range telemetry from the colony on the Neethian-3 hasdetected sudden activity along the Krellian border, indicating theymay be massing for an invasion. Trinity is the closest ship tothat sector, so we’ll need you to change course to investigate.

“Your orders are notto engage the Krellian Empire unless given no other choice. It’sbeen twenty-nine years since our last encounter with them, so we haveto assume they’ve beefed up their capabilities since then. Yourship’s limited armaments would be no match, which is why we’resending the battle cruiser Challenger to assist . . . but shewon’t be there for three days. So keep a safe distance until shearrives. Good luck and God speed. Jenkins out.”

Kleezebee deactivatedthe vid-screen, then sat back in his chair to contemplate his nextmove.

* * *

“Here’sthis week’s duty roster, Commander Benner,” a striking femalebridge officer said, handing Bruno a six-inch Digi-stick, whichresembled a 20th century glow stick, only black, with apull-tab on the side.

“Thank you,Lieutenant Nellis,” Bruno said, sitting back in the captain’schair on Deck 1. He used the pull-tab to slide out a wafer-thinscreen, activating the transparent display containing the digitalroster; everything was in order.

“Excellent work, asusual, Lieutenant. Log this into the ship’s computer. Make sure alldepartment heads are notified,” he said, closing the Digi-stick andgiving it back to her.

She nodded and walkedback to her duty station to his right, then she straightened.“Captain on the bridge,” she announced to the bridge crew.

Kleezebee stepped offthe jump pad, next to the science officer’s duty station, wearinghis red and white captain’s uniform with four brass pips on thecollar.

Bruno and the rest ofthe bridge officers snapped to attention, waiting for Kleezebee toassume command.

“At ease, everyone,”Kleezebee said.

Bruno stepped aside,allowing Kleezebee to sit in the captain’s chair.

“Set course toone-eleven mark three, maximum speed,” Kleezebee said.

“Sir, that will takeus directly into Krellian space, across the DMZ,” Bruno replied.

“You have yourorders, Commander.”

Bruno turned to thehelmsman. “Mr. Heller, come about, set course to one-eleven markthree, best speed.”

The helmsman ran hishands over the navigation console like a concert pianist playing aBach concerto. “Course laid in, sir.”

“Time to the border,Mr. Heller?”

“Eleven minutes,sir.”

“Shields up. Chargeall weapons.”

Two minutes later, thecommunications officer said, “Captain, I’m picking up along-range distress call on one of the lower EM bands.”

“Source, Mr. Blake?”

“It’s coming fromColony Three-Five-Nine on Neethian-3, half a light year away.”

“Alter course,maintain speed,” Kleezebee said.

Just then, somethingrocked the ship, sending everyone lunging to the port side. Two ofthe bridge officers and their chairs fell to the floor, while sparksflew from one of the unmanned duty stations behind the captain’schair. The tactical alert siren sounded.

“Captain, we werejust hit by the leading edge of an intense gravimetric shockwave,”Nellis reported.

“Ship status?”Kleezebee asked, helping Bruno off the floor.

“Minor hull breach ondecks eleven and twelve—contained—shields holding,” Nellisreplied. “We also lost gravity plating in Cargo Bay Four.”

“Dispatch repaircrews,” Kleezebee said.

“Minor injuries onDeck Twelve, but engineering reports all systems operational,”Nellis said, before she entered additional commands into her console.“Shields at ninety-two percent.”

“Entering NeethianSystem, Captain,” Heller reported.

“Slow to sub-light.”

“The origin of theshockwave is Neethian-6, an L-class planet. We’re in visual range,”Nellis said.

“On screen andmagnify.”

The bridge’stwenty-foot viewscreen showed floating hunks of rock and rubbleloosely assembled in a spherical shape. Other than a few dozenpinpoints of starlight scattered across the background, nothing elsewas in view.

“It appears thedebris cloud is all that’s left of the planet. Sensors are pickingup substantial amounts of charged ididium-236 radiation, suggesting amassive detonation,” Nellis reported.

“Didn’t we justfire-up a refinery on Neethian-6?” Bruno asked.

“Yes, two months ago.The engineers finally solved how to safely extract the volatileididium deposits,” Nellis replied.

“Someone must havelit a match,” Heller said from the helm.

“This is going toseverely cripple our E-121 production,” Benner said.

“Captain, I’mdetecting a series of subspace distortions in and around the debrisfield. They appear to be localized fractures in space-time andthey’re drifting in space like icebergs.”

“Sir, if one of themcomes in contact with the engine core, it will cause a breach incontainment,” Bruno said.

“Plot a course aroundthem, Mr. Heller,” Kleezebee said.

“Acknowledged.Adjusting course to compensate.”

“Sir, should I launcha micro-probe into one of the fractures to investigate?” Nellisasked.

“There isn’t time.Best speed to Neethian-3,” Kleezebee said. “Bring the forwardplasma cannons online.”

It wasn’t long beforethe main viewer showed a blue-and-white planet growing larger by thesecond.

“ApproachingNeethian-3, sir,” Heller said.

“Standard orbit, Mr.Heller.”

“Captain, I’m notpicking up any other vessels in the area,” Nellis reported.

“Cancel tacticalalert, but keep the shields up,” Kleezebee commanded. “Open achannel.”

“Open, sir,” Blakereplied.

“ColonyThree-Five-Nine, this is Captain Kleezebee of the science vesselTrinity. We received your distress call and are standing by inorbit to assist.”

The bridge crew waitedfor a response, none came.

Kleezebee repeated hishail a second time. Once again, there was no response from thecolony.

“Bio-signs?”Kleezebee asked Nellis.

“Scanning, sir . . .none detected.”

“Scan the surface fortrace signatures.”

“No plant or animallife . . . no vegetation . . . no structures detected anywhere on theplanet.”

“Could our sensors bemalfunctioning?”

“Running a Level Onediagnostic,” she said. “Sensors are working perfectly.”

“What aboutatmospheric interference?”

She shook her head.

“Perhaps we shouldsend a landing party to investigate?” Bruno asked.

“Surface conditions?”Kleezebee asked Nellis.

“Radiation andtemperature are within acceptable levels. The atmosphere is . . .breathable.”

“Assemble a team,”Kleezebee told Bruno.

Bruno hurried to thejump pad. “Lieutenant Nellis, you’re with me. Mr. Blake, have Dr.McKnight and a security detail meet us in Jump Bay Two.”

Bruno stopped inOutfitting on his way to the jump bay, changing out of his uniformand into his desert fatigues. He was looking forward to the Trinity’sfirst official away mission, something a science vessel rarely hadthe opportunity to do.



Brunotransported down to the surface with six other members of the crew,and found himself standing in the middle of a vast, barren wasteland,which stretched off as far as he could see in all directions. Theplanet’s surface was charcoal black, as if it had been scorched bysomething.

The four securityofficers fanned out and stood guard around the landing site, withtheir backs to Bruno, Dr. McKnight, and Lt. Nellis.

“Are we in the rightplace?” the elderly Dr. McKnight asked, repositioning his medicalsatchel over his right shoulder.

“We’re standing inwhat should be the center of the settlement,” Nellis said.

“I thought the colonywas surrounded by a mountain range.”

“It was.”

“There goes theneighborhood,” McKnight said.

Bruno knelt down toscoop up a sample of the black film covering the entire area. Herubbed the powdery substance between his fingers. “What is thisstuff?”

Nellis tested a samplewith her handheld M-Spec scanner. “I’m not detecting any organicor chemical compounds whatsoever. It’s as if this powder isn’tthere.”

Bruno raised hisfingers to his nose. “Smells like citrus. How is that possible?”

“Unknown, sir,” shereplied, putting a sample of the material into a travel container.

“Scan the area forlife signs.”

She adjusted herscanner’s settings, then held the device up while slowly turning ina circle. “Other than the seven of us, there’s nothing organicwithin a two-hundred-kilometer radius.”

“Nothing?” McKnightasked.

She shook her head.“I’m not reading any plant or animal life.”

“What about chemicalsignatures?” Bruno asked.

“None, sir.”

“Could somethingnatural have caused this?”

“Unlikely. Therewould be some form of trace evidence.”

“Then it must be sometype of attack.”

“It’s possible;however, I’m not detecting any residual power signatures orelevated radiation.”

“Do you suspect thebugs?” McKnight asked Bruno. “We’re practically in theirbackyard.”

“If it’s theKrellian Empire, they’re back with some new type of weapon wehaven’t seen before. Something capable of leveling entire planets,topography and all.”

“I knew I should havepacked more than one gallon of Extermin8,” McKnight said.

“We should reportthis to the captain,” Nellis said.

Bruno nodded,activating the communications device on his wrist. “Bruno toTrinity.”

“Go ahead,”Kleezebee replied.

“Sir, there’s nosign of the colony and our scans have been indeterminate. There’ssome type of black film covering the entire area, but nothing elseremains. We suspect it might be some type of Krellian attack.”

“Collect your teamand return to the ship.”

“Aye, sir.”

* * *

Aftertransporting back to the ship, Bruno changed into his uniform beforereturning to his post on the bridge. When he stepped off the jumppad, he wished he had arrived a minute sooner.

“Shields at maximum.Weapons hot,” Nellis reported.

“Stay alert, people,”Kleezebee said, looking over his shoulder at Bruno. Kleezebee’seyes told Bruno to take his position at the tactical station.

“Mr. Blake, send adata burst to Fleet with today’s mission log,” Kleezebee said.

“Aye, Captain.”

“I’m picking up abuildup in tachyon particles, two hundred thousand meters off theport bow,” Nellis reported.

“On viewer.”

The screen changed toshow a patch of stars vacillating, as if they were being viewedthrough the bottom of a glass boat. Moments later, the same area ofspace began to change, fading in an enormous hive ship, at least athousand times the size of the Trinity. It looked like a giantgreen honeycomb with hundreds of identical octagon cells, eachroughly the size of the Trinity. A web of yellow energyconnected the eight sides of each cell with its neighbor.

“Sir, that’s aKrellian destroyer, and she’s on an intercept course,” Nellissaid.

“Hail them,”Kleezebee said.

“No response, sir,”Blake said.

The Krellian shipsplintered into dozens of smaller cell groupings, spreading out andflanking the Trinity as they approached.

“Captain, someone’stapped into our main computer . . . they’re accessing our datacore,” Nellis said.

“Can you shut themout?”

“Attempting toisolate the core and encrypt the network interface—“ Nellis said.“Got it!”

“How much did theyget?”

“A hundred percent ofthe medical and historical databases, but it looks like we stoppedthem before they downloaded our tactical and scientific data banks.”

“They’re chargingweapons!” Bruno reported, activating the tactical alert siren fromhis console.

“Which one?”Kleezebee asked.

“All of them, sir.”

“Evasive maneuvers!”

The enemy ships openedfire, sending a barrage of blue energy bursts streaming at the leftside of Trinity’s bow. The ship rocked hard to starboard.

“Minor damage on DeckTwelve. Shields down to sixty-two percent,” Nellis said. “Lookslike they’re targeting engineering.”

“Return fire, fullspread.”

The forward battery ofplasma cannons discharged, sending a torrent of energy pulses at theadvancing enemy ships, striking several of them center mass.

“Multiple hits,”Bruno said.

“Minor fluctuation intheir power grids, but no detectable damage, sir,” Nellis said.

The Krellian swarmfired a second volley, hammering the Trinity with even moreforce than before. Blake’s communication console erupted into fire,searing his left hand and wrist. He screamed in pain.

“Medical team to thebridge,” Kleezebee shouted.

“Sick bay’s notresponding, sir,” Nellis replied.

Several more salvos hitthe ship, each time jolting the ship farther off course.

“Shields down totwenty-seven percent. Bulkheads buckling on Deck Twelve, SectionFour,” Nellis shouted.

“Remodulate shields,continuing firing all batteries,” Kleezebee said. “Attack patternomega.”

Bruno fired the forwardand port cannons. “Direct hits, sir.”

“Enemy shields stillat maximum,” Nellis said.

The ship’scommunication system came on. “Engineering to the captain. We’reclose to losing containment down here. The reactor’s nearingcritical.”

“Captain, we have nochoice but to withdraw,” Bruno said. “We can’t take any more ofthis pounding.”

The ship was hit again,and again. Kleezebee sat motionless in his command chair.

“Captain!” Brunoshouted, trying to get his boss to act.

“Mr. Heller, hard tostarboard,” Kleezebee said. “Lieutenant Nellis, activate the riftprojector.”

“But sir, it hasn’tbeen fully tested,” she replied.

“We don’t have achoice. Energize it now, while we still have the power. Setdestination coordinates for Earth.”

“Aye, sir,” Nellisreplied, furiously entering commands into her station’s console.“Projector charged and online.”

“Coordinates set forSector zero-zero-zero,” Heller said.

A vertical rift beganto form directly in front of the ship, resembling a crumpled whiteenvelope being opened lengthwise in space, growing wider with eachpassing second. The beams of light flooding through from the otherside were almost blinding.

“Take us in,”Kleezebee shouted, just as the Krellians hit them with anotheronslaught. The bridge crew stumbled to the right, like crab fishermenbattling a rising swell.

“Hull breach on DeckSeven, venting atmosphere,” Nellis said.

“Entering rift,”Heller reported.

The Trinity waswalloped again.

“Shields are down,”Nellis said.

“Maintain course andspeed,” Kleezebee said.

“Captain, we’vebeen boarded,” Nellis said.

“Location?”

“Deck Twelve,Engineering.”

“They must be afterour E-121 supply,” Bruno replied.

“Dispatch securityteams.”

The Krellians firedagain, missing the ship, but bombarding the rift’s event horizonwith blue energy.

“Their weapons areoverloading the rift . . . it’s destabilizing,” Nellis said,right before an electrical discharge arced across the bridge betweenthe active duty stations, knocking her, Blake, and the helmsman tothe deck.

The bolt continued through Kleezebee’s torso and pierced Bruno’sneck, completing its circuit by connecting to the power supplyinstalled under the base of the jump pad. Kleezebee lostconsciousness.