Part 37 (1/2)

”Ranth,” Dora said. ”Approximate Guranu's position and estimate the turnaround time to Federation s.p.a.ce under normal hyperdrive conditions.”

”Five hundred, eighty-seven point four three years.”

”So if we go out there, there's a good chance that none us will ever return home alive?” Zical asked.

Dora's hand went to her womb. ”With an estimated life span of one thousand years, our child would be middle-aged by the time this s.h.i.+p could return to Mystique.”

”Unless you wish to attempt to contact the Sentinel again, we don't have a choice.”

Zical's face was hard, stoic, but eyes revealed a flash of desperation, and Dora gulped back tears.

The choice facing them was terrible. They owed it everyone on Mystique to complete their mission. From start of the journey, they'd been aware the odds would be against them as they traveled into unknown s.p.a.ce, but that she'd have to choose between her own life and her unborn child's and the lives of everyone back home was a terrible dilemma. She already felt worse for the tiny life growing inside her than she did over the fact that if they continued their mission, the likelihood of the seeing Mystique alive again was almost nil.

How could she allow her body and the child she carried in her womb to die? But how could she abandon their mission and risk the lives of everyone back home?

Zical explained the terrible options to his crew on the bridge and allowed those off duty and the scientists below to sit in through the holovid system. Under usual circ.u.mstances, he might not inform the crew of their situation. But these weren't normal times, and with the stakes so high, he wanted to hear the others the opinions of those he trusted most.

227.

Zical kept his shoulders squared, his chin high, knowing others would take their cue from his demeanor. ”So, people we have to decide whether to turn back, risk another contact with the Sentinel, or venture between she galaxies in the hopes that Guranu may help us reprogram the Sentinels. I'm open to opinions.”

Vax didn't hesitate. ”We go to Guranu.”

Zical had never appreciated his second in command more. Although Vax didn't have a wife or children on Mystique, his elderly parents still lived. But he'd always put the mission first, and Zical relied on his steadfast belief that they could make a difference by committing to what would essentially be a one-way trip.

Shannon, his communications officer, shot him a thumbs-up. ”I'd like to go where no Terran has gone before.”

”Cyn?”

His chief engineer frowned. ”You're asking a lot of my engines, Captain. But we're good to travel.”

Zical was proud of their selflessness. He only wished he didn't have to ask them to make this kind of sacrifice. And although his heart might break over the child that would likely never know a home planet or have the support of a real family unit beyond this crew, he could ask for no better companions and could do no less than his duty. He owed it to his people to make the ultimate effort. Too much was at stake to do less.

Dr. Laduna. spoke up. ”No. No. No. We're throwing our lives away for nothing. I don't mind dying for a good reason we have no idea this Guranu can help us. We are gambling our lives on the thinnest of theories. We should turn around, go home.

Rea.s.sess.”

”With the utmost respect, I disagree with Dr. Laduna,” said another scientist somewhat heatedly. ”We all knew the risks. We came out here to do a job. We should finish it.”

Many of the other scientists cheered. Dr. Laduna shook his head, the Jarn's fish eyes sad and soulful. However, while the Jarn's was the only dissenting vote, the s.h.i.+p wasn't a democracy. The decision was Zical's and he made it with a heavy heart. ”Ranth, plot a course for Guranu.”

”Compliance.”

They spent three days in hypers.p.a.ce accelerating into the void. Cyn kept careful watch on her precious engines, but without even the smallest particles of matter to slow the them, their speed encompa.s.sed thousands of light-years per second. Zical didn't even try to keep track of the vast distance in light-years. Instead he consulted the stars and verified their progress in ma.s.sive sectors as they approached Guranu.

He occupied his time by keeping up morale with steady encouragement and sending back a detailed log to Mystique, even as be questioned if he'd made the right decision. During the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep, doubts a.s.sailed him.

Doubts that they could successfully complete the mission. Doubts that he should ask so 228.

much from his crew. Doubts that he and Dora would live long enough to solve their problems. And Zical worked harder than ever during the day. While it might take weeks or even months for messages to reach home, at least the Federation would know what had happened to them and what they planned to do. So if they failed, another course of action could be tried.

If Zical and his crew didn't succeed, the Federation would send yet another s.h.i.+p, ask another crew to sacrifice their lives. His determination hardened with every pa.s.sing light sector. They had to succeed. As the time approaches to drop out of hypers.p.a.ce, Zical's antic.i.p.ation skyrocketed even as the crew became slightly oversensitive. No crew had ever spent this long in hypers.p.a.ce and the continued a.s.sault on their senses made them irritable And with the gamble they were about to take, where the stakes could not have been greater, be wished to steady his people and had ordered Ranth to exit hypers.p.a.ce within a half-day's journey from Guranu. Traveling the remaining distance in regular s.p.a.ce would give them time to settle down and to explore from afar -although he wondered how much that would protect him since the Sentinel seemed to have fired on his s.h.i.+p from half a galaxy away. Still, he'd rather approach the unknown slowly, giving their sensors time to a.n.a.lyze, his crew time to a.s.sess. With the fate of everyone knew at stake, he and his crew could not afford to make errors.

And Zical worried that perhaps, just perhaps, the Sentinel had been correct when it called them an enemy. Ever since they'd left Kwadii and discovered the problem with the hyperdrive that had delayed them, he'd wondered if they had a saboteur aboard.

While Zical would bet his life that his crew was loyal, he could never be as certain of the scientists-whom he didn't know as well. And yet, what would any of them have to gain by slowing the drive? Why not just dismantle it? But perhaps they hadn't the time. Perhaps they wanted to turn around as Dr. Laduna had suggested.

Or he might be suspicious for no reason at all. Without more to go on, he tried to put treachery from inside the s.h.i.+p from his mind. Between the Sentinels and Guranu he had enough real problems.

”Ten seconds to n-s.p.a.ce,” Vax warned the crew.

As the countdown to leave hypers.p.a.ce and enter normal s.p.a.ce ensued, Zical kept his eyes on the vidscreen. ''Ranth, place long-range detectors on priority.”

”Compliance.”

”Five seconds.”

Zical braced for the change, anchoring his body firmly to the deck with his psi. The s.h.i.+p wouldn't so much as vibrate during the transition, but the effect on the senses could an unwary traveler to stumble.

”Entering n-s.p.a.ce.”

Zical braced for the black emptiness of s.p.a.ce, trying to prepare himself for the void between the galaxies. Out here were no planets, no stars, no universal dust.

So he was astonished when the klaxon sounded. ”Purple alert. We are under attack.”

Chapter Twenty-two.

Dora heard the klaxon in her quarters. Kirek was with Avanti and Deckar, helping them to learn to use their psi and operate their suits, so she had no obligations to the boy at the moment. Even as Zical ordered her to report to the bridge, she used her psi to go there, her muscles tense, her nerves on edge.

Now what? Had Guranu turned against them and attacked? As if they hadn't already had enough problems on this journey, they now had another emergency to deal with, and it seemed as though fate were stacked against them. Ever since Zical had first stumbled upon the ancient machinery inside Mount Shachauri, and their close calls on Kwadii, and the Sentinel firing upon them, she'd figured they were due for some good luck for a change.

But once she saw the viewscieen with wars.h.i.+ps dotting the void between the galaxies, she realized the alarm hadn't been another computer glitch-like the problem with the hyperdrive-as she'd first thought. Nor had their bad luck changed.

The crew were at battle stations, alert and calm, but for some reason unknown to her, Dr. Laduna was also on the bridge. And one of the crew held, a weapon on the cowering scientist, who stared at the giant vidscreen with terror.

Her gaze went to Zical for answers, but she didn't interrupt his battle preparations.

The captain stood on the bridge his back to her, issuing precise orders, yet with uncanny precision he seemed to know the moment she arrived.

”Ranth?” Dora asked. ”Why is Dr. Laduna under guard?”

”Those are Jarn s.h.i.+ps.”

”Jarn?” Dora turned to Dr. Laduna, and suddenly she understood who had slowed their mission after they'd left Kwadii. Dr. Laduna had tampered with the engines to allow the Jarn fleet to arrive ahead of them. But why?

Dr. Laduna's expression was grim and his entire body trembled. ”I am sorry.”