From "Here be dragons" by Linda Chapple, Sonar Readings #2

"He is simply incredible," he commented. "I swear he'd find something to be enthusiastic about if he found himself on some alien's dissecting table." (Chip on the admiral - as if you couldn't guess.)

 

Author’s note: the Star Portals referred to in the story are not the same devices as in the series Stargate SG-1. Rather, they are a more generic device, common in science fiction decades before that series - or the movie that spawned it - appeared.

 

 

Zero Gravity

By Storm

 

Admiral Harriman Nelson looked out Seaview’s herculite windows at the blackness of space around them and knew they were in serious trouble. He could tell from the motion of the stars that the boat was slowly tumbling - not that it made much difference to the crew since they were all floating about in freefall. He pressed up to the window as close as he could and looked as far to the sides as was possible, searching for any signs of a planet to tell him where they were. Finally, as the boat continued to rotate he saw it. A blue and white orb below them. His heart lurched as it swam fully into view.

 

It wasn’t earth.

 

Closing his eyes in a brief flash of despair, he put his forehead against the herculite and felt the coldness of space rapidly seeping in. Seaview wasn’t designed for this environment and it was a tossup as to which would happen first - a hull rupture spilling their air into the vacuum, carbon dioxide building to toxic levels or the incredible cold temperatures of space freezing them solid. Assuming the reactor didn’t melt down first. He hadn’t designed it to work in zero gravity and although it did have pumps to keep the coolant circulating, he just wasn’t entirely sure how well the system would continue to work in a vacuum, since normally seawater was pumped in as needed to help regulate the temperature of the system.

 

The boat groaned around him. He jerked his head back from the window and looked around at the captain and COB clinging to whatever they could. “Lee, seal the watertight hatches. I don’t know if they’ll hold if the hull ruptures, but it’s our best shot.”

 

The dark haired officer nodded and reached with one hand to grab the hand mike. “All hands, this is the Captain. Seal all watertight hatches. Repeat, seal all the watertight hatches.” He twisted around to look at Nelson. “Sir, I need to try and make it back to the control room and help Mr. Morton.” What he was really saying was that if he was going to die he’d rather be at his post doing his job. Nelson simply nodded. The captain gathered himself and then launched himself like a projectile towards the door of the observation deck. The COB, Curley Jones, looked at the Admiral, worry on his face. Nelson gave a little nod, indicating that he should go with the captain. The burley noncom launched himself on a trajectory to follow Seaview’s skipper.

 

Nelson turned back to the windows with a sigh as the boat made another slow stern over bow rotation. He blinked as he looked again at the planet, abruptly realizing that it looked somewhat larger than before. An expletive slipped past his lips. They weren’t in orbit - they were falling straight into the planet’s gravity well - and an atmospheric entry was something Seaview definitely wouldn’t survive. He pressed against the window again, waiting for the boat to make another rotation. As the planet swam into view for the third time there was no doubt that it had grown larger than before. At the speed they appeared to be moving, neither freezing nor carbon dioxide poisoning were going to be a problem. It looked like it was a race between a hull rupture and burning up in the planet’s atmosphere. His mind raced, looking for an answer, but time was against him. All of the ideas he thought they might try to save themselves required more time than they had.

 

The boat shuddered again. His head jerked up as his mind abruptly registered that this felt more like contact with another object than Seaview trying to disintegrate. A thin humming sound ran through the hull, rapidly increasing in intensity to a point of near pain in his ears. The boat jerked a second time, like she was being pulled at, and the sound dropped back to a bearable level. Nelson pressed once more up to the windows, searching for the source of both the sound and the motion. He realized as his gaze swiveled from side to side that their tumbling was slowing rapidly. The planet below them very slowly slid from his field of view, but in a slightly different direction than before. As the boat made one more turn and stabilized Nelson stared in awe at the sight of a vast ship floating in front of him.

 

If you could really call it a ship, that is. He wasn’t sure the designation was entirely accurate. A space-borne city might have been a more correct way to describe the vast machine that was hovering dead ahead of Seaview. The base of the structure appeared to be a pair of vast truncated pyramids many miles across, connected at the bases. Rising from both flattened tops were what appeared to be enormous towers of various shapes and heights, all blazing with light. He started when he realized that he could just barely make out small vessels darting between the towers. It was difficult to tell any real scale, but he quickly realized that Seaview was now moving towards the gargantuan craft.

 

A shadow flitted across the window and Nelson realized that they had other company as well. A bevy of small machines was swarming around the incapacitated submarine. As he watched them, he became aware that they were weaving - what? - a net of light? A force field? It didn’t take long for him to realize that Seaview was no longer groaning in distress, so perhaps they were doing something to stabilize the boat’s hull and prevent her from explosively decompressing. As the web of light wove tighter, it began to obscure his view of the incomprehensible scene outside. The last distorted image he saw through Seaview’s bow windows was the monstrous apparition filling his field of view.

 

Then another sound began to fill the submarine - and left him grabbing at his ears in agony just before his universe dissolved into darkness.

 

************

 

Nelson began to drift back to consciousness, gradually becoming aware of delicate tinkling sounds in the background, the softness of the surface he was lying on, the cool scent of the air he was breathing. There was a feeling of subtle strangeness to all of it- a feeling of something alien. With that recognition came remembrance - and a realization that he was no longer aboard the Seaview.

 

Slowly turning his head to the left towards the sounds, he surveyed the room in which he found himself. The walls were a pleasant sea-foam green with a white ceiling that seemed to radiate soft light evenly across the entire surface. He squinted his eyes as he tried to judge the distance; the ceiling seemed to be somewhat low, though that could be just a trick of the light. The sound he heard was being produced by what appeared to be some sort of small but elaborate copper colored wind chime.

 

A turn of his head to the right showed him only a wall. He tried to sit up and examine the object he was lying on, but found that he was gently restrained with some kind of invisible binding. A force field, some part of his mind postulated. Humph. That would suggest he was on a table, even though it didn’t feel like one. On the other hand, the only other thing it could be was a bed, but it wasn’t quite like any bed he was familiar with either. He looked closer, observing that it did have some distant similarities to the futons he’d seen in Japan, though from his prone position it was difficult to see enough to really ascertain that for certain. It was the only piece of furniture in sight. Turning his head back to the left, he let his eyes rove around the room, giving it a more thorough examination; there were no discernable doors or openings anywhere in the walls or ceiling. So his room could also be a cell. He shrugged to himself - at least it wasn’t dark, dank or damp and he wasn‘t chained to the wall. He also didn’t see any surveillance cameras, but he’d be willing to bet they were there somewhere. It just felt like he was being watched.

 

Relaxing, he waited for something to happen.

 

He didn’t have to wait long.

 

A door appeared to shimmer into existence on the farthest wall. Opening, it revealed a creature unlike anything Harriman Nelson had ever seen in his life.

 

The being standing in the doorway stared curiously back at him with limpid blue-black eyes that held hints of iridescence in shades of green, blue and purple, set in a flattened face that was vaguely hominid in shape. The face was framed by mobile fox-like ears set on the sides of the head. The nostrils were large and slitted - he could see them flair every time the creature breathed - while the lips were thin and slightly darker in color than the rest of the creature‘s skin. He couldn’t see the teeth, so he had no way of judging if it was a carnivore or a vegetarian - or an opportunistic generalist. The creature’s leathery looking skin was dusky blue with a tint of purple. It was nearly hairless; only wispy tufts where the eyebrows should be were all the hair that was visible. But the thing that rocked Nelson back on his heels was the fact that the creature was a quadruped. Or rather, he corrected himself, a hexaped, for it had two arms set just a few inches above the shoulders of the forelegs to finish off the set of six limbs. Each of the four legs seemed to end in three long toes; he could see opposable thumbs on the hands and a dewclaw on each of the front feet that might well serve a similar function. It appeared to be about the size of a small pony, with the top of it’s head coming to about his shoulder. He couldn’t discern any obvious genitalia, so the creature’s gender was at this point still a mystery, assuming it even had gender as he understood it.

 

The clothing it was wearing seemed to be of some sort of metallic looking fabric in a dark blue that complemented the creature’s skin tones. It was draped like a toga around the upper part of it’s torso, rather than being fitted. The jewelry it had on - a neck torc and some wide arm bands - looked like they might be made out of titanium and were decorated with ornate carving rather than gemstones. It also had on what appeared to be a segmented belt of the same metal, set with what looked like small ceramic tiles in bright jewel-tone colors.

 

The creature lifted a small object to it’s mouth and spoke; to Nelson’s surprise the language was English. Oddly inflected and curiously pronounced to be sure, but still recognizable and understandable; to his ears, the voice sounded male.

 

“You speak my language?” he couldn’t help but ask.

 

“A translation appliance,” said the creature, briefly showing him the small oval shaped device. “We got the language from your vessel’s computers.”

 

“Ah,” he said. “I’m Admiral Harriman Nelson, United States Navy, retired, owner of the submarine Seaview. And speaking of Seaview, thank you for saving us. Is my boat and crew alright?”

 

The creature nodded. “I am Galen Twelve, director of security. And your boat,” he spoke the word with a questioning note in his voice, “and crew are well.” Galen cocked his head to one side, his curiosity obvious as he studied Nelson in return. “Your vessel - a submarine? - was clearly not built as a spacecraft, nor are you from any world in this star system. Would you tell me how you got here?”

 

Nelson paused for a moment as he considered the question, then sighed as he realized that he was under some sort of compulsion to answer. Not that it really mattered on this particular issue, since there was no real point in not telling him. “I wish I knew. All I can tell you for sure is that one moment we were exploring the ruins of an ancient sunken city on our home world and then suddenly we were in freefall  above the planet where you found us. My best guess would be that we stumbled into some kind of transporter or portal.”

 

Galen Twelve flattened his ears. “A Star Portal. We’ve been studying the one in orbit around the fourth world of this system for many cycles.”

 

“Your people don’t use them?” Whatever they were using on him hadn’t diminished his curiosity or his ability to ask their - rescuers? captors? - questions.

 

“No. The species that built them has long since vanished. We do not entirely understand the technology.” He looked thoughtfully at Nelson as he added, “All of the other Star Portal we have encountered have been in orbit around planets or stars. This is the first time I have heard of one being on a planet.”

 

“Underwater actually, though when the city was built it may have been above sea level,” Nelson corrected. “You said the species that built these Portals is gone. How and how long ago?” It occurred to the Admiral to wonder who was gaining the most information out of this conversation. Surely they weren’t that slow on the uptake. The vast ship they inhabited was proof of that, wasn’t it? Provided, he silently amended to himself, that they were the ones who’d actually built it.

 

The creature pursed his lips as he seemed to consult some internal authority. “I am not entirely sure of how long it would be in your terms, but I can say that it is tens of thousands of our cycles. That would be equal to many thousands of your years. As to how they vanished….” He flicked his ears in what Nelson felt was probably his species equivalent of a shrug. “We do not know. Do your people know anything about this city where you found the Portal?”

 

Nelson gave a shrug of his own. “There are many old stories of ancient cities with advanced technology on my world.” He reflected for a moment. “There are also tales of gateways to other places. Given the reality of what I’ve seen, I would guess this city could well be the origin for those legends.”

 

Galen looked thoughtful. “There must have been some interaction between your folk and theirs for yours to remember them.”

 

“I think that’s likely,” admitted Nelson, “but some of those old tales don’t speak well of those who came to my world from other places.”

 

That statement produced a look of surprise on Galen’s face. “In what way?” he carefully asked.

 

“In many cases the stories say they didn’t treat the people of my world well, Galen - they treated us as property, or worse, as animals.” Galen’s ears went flat in what was clearly denial. “However, In all honesty, I have to say there are other tales of beings more advanced than we were who tried to help us. Perhaps there was more than one group - or else there were those who didn’t agree with whatever the majority philosophy was.”

 

Galen’s ears inched back up, but he still looked disturbed. “Your species was apparently meddled with on a large scale. We’ve never before encountered such a thing.”

 

It was Nelson’s turn to show surprise. “Are you telling me that it’s not common practice for star traveling species to interact with less advanced worlds?” Could this possibly be on the level, he wondered to himself. And if it was, the implications were staggering.

 

“That is correct.”

 

“Humpf.” Nelson reflected for a moment on Seaview’s multiple encounters with alien beings. If what Galen had just told him was anywhere near the truth, something very odd was going on concerning earth. He said so. “Galen, I have personally encountered at least four different alien species in the last four years - and only one of them had no interest in meddling.”

 

The expression of shock that spread across Galen’s face was unmistakable. “I do not understand.”

 

Nelson shrugged. “It’s simple. There have been four separate species show up on my home world, three of which apparently had intentions of conquering us. Fortunately their technology wasn’t so much more advanced than ours that we couldn’t defeat them. Only one, who crash landed after a collision with an asteroid, wanted nothing more than to get back in space where he and his ship belonged.”

 

Galen’s skin turned a paler shade of blue and the blue-black eyes grew even larger. “That is not something we have ever seen in this galaxy!” he exclaimed, clearly upset by the idea.

 

“This galaxy?” Nelson grew thoughtful. “Have your people explored all of this galaxy?”

 

“Yes, we have.”

 

“Have you ever before encountered my species?”

 

“You aren’t in any of our databases,” admitted Galen. “That has sorely puzzled us.”

 

“Do you know what the range on these Portals is?”

 

Galen drew in a sharp breath, realizing what he was suggesting. “You think your world might lie in another galaxy?”

 

“It’s a possibility. If the race that built the Portals - or another species who used their technology - made a habit of meddling with the races there, it would explain why things are so different.”

 

Galen looked grim. “That would explain much.” He hesitated for a second then asked, “This is why your boat,” again a slight hesitation at the word, “is armed?”

 

“One of the reasons, yes.” Nelson didn’t want to get into the peculiarities of human politics. But since what he’d just said was actually true, the compulsion to expand on the subject wasn’t particularly strong and he was able to hold his tongue. However, he did find it curious that Galen didn’t pursue the issue further. He certainly would have if the tables had been turned.

 

Galen stroked at his chin, a very human gesture for a creature so obviously alien. “This is something I must discuss with others.” He turned to leave, but Nelson cleared his throat, causing him to pause.

 

“Would it be too much to ask,” he said, “if you would return me to my crew?”

 

The creature hesitated for a moment before sadly shaking his head. “I cannot. I‘m sorry.”

 

Nelson shrugged, disappointed but not surprised. “It was just a thought.” No point in being antagonistic. He relaxed to mull over their conversation as the other disappeared back through the doorway. If Galen was telling him the truth - something he wasn’t entirely convinced of, since the whole thing could be an act to fool him into believing Galen’s species wasn’t the brightest around - then the business with multiple attempts by alien species to move in on earth was an anomaly. But why? The Portal in the ruins was one possibility, especially if it really did have the range to reach other galaxies. He ran through his mind the circumstances that had led to where he was now, seeking any clues he might have previously missed.

 

Seaview had been mapping an area of the Southern Ocean midway between Australia and Africa around the 50th parallel. A previous expedition had reported detecting what might be ruins off the island of Kerguelen, spread across the shallow bank that extended south-east of the island itself. It was an odd location for ruins, over two thousand miles to either Australia or Africa and a good thousand miles from Antarctica. Talk about isolated! He’d been skeptical of the report, but they’d found the remains of the shattered city with little problem. Since the water was only three hundred feet deep, he and Lee Crane had decided to cruise Seaview slowly over the area just above the bottom to take photographs, sonar profiles and magnetic scans. One minute they’d been gliding between the ruins of two large towers; the next instant the submarine had been tumbling in freefall above a planet that wasn’t earth. There had been absolutely no indication of a device with the power to transport something the size of the Seaview who knew how far across the universe. And at this point he hadn’t a clue as to how to get them back to earth.

 

He gave a small mental shake of his head. Try as he might, there was nothing he could think of that might have told him that the ruins were anything unusual - other than their location, that is. That had been a real puzzle. Now, he reflected, if they were indeed of alien origin, their isolated location made perfect sense. It also tied in with what Galen had told him about the length of time since the species who built them had actually inhabited the city, for the island would have begun to submerge at the end of the last Ice Age as meltdown of the continental ice sheets occurred. Given their probable age, the ruins had been in fair shape, but years of erosion by the sea had taken their toll. Until the Seaview had wound up here, he hadn’t had a clue that the builders of that ruined city had been anything other than human, let alone surmised the level of technology they had possessed.

 

The doorway opened again, distracting Nelson from his ruminations. However, rather than Galen Twelve returning, a tall, slender humanoid with skin the color of fresh cream and a stiff crest of bright red-gold hair, dressed in a flowing diaphanous gown made of some shimmering metallic green fabric, stepped in. The being briefly looking back over it’s shoulder in what was clearly a furtive manner.

 

Nelson’s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline in surprise. This was unexpected.

 

The individual lifted another of what Nelson recognized as the translation devices and spoke in a lilting feminine voice, “Admiral Nelson, I have come to set you free to join your crew.”

 

“Why? And who are you?” Nelson wasn’t sure he should go with this newcomer; it could be a ploy to get him injured or even killed escaping. And even if it wasn’t, not knowing the political dynamics of what was going on could have unintended repercussions. He made up his mind to not go anywhere until he had more information to work with.

 

The creature sighed. “I am called Jillingah. Your Captain Crane said you might react so.”

 

“You’ve seen Lee?” That put an altogether different spin on things.

 

She - for Nelson felt that this particular individual was indeed female as he understood it - nodded. “He and the rest of your crew have been returned to your vessel and transported to a safe place.”

 

“Okay - but again, why?”

 

“If I may explain on the way? Time grows short.” She was clearly anxious to be gone.

 

“I suppose,” he answered, still halfway unconvinced. “But I’m restrained here. You’ll have to free me first.”

 

She nodded and pulled a small crystalline object from somewhere in the folds of her gown and inserted it into the wall near the door. Nelson instantly felt the subtle pressure that had been pressing on his mind vanish, along with the tingling sensation on his skin that he’d been almost unaware of. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the table, suppressing the sudden urge to scratch all over.

 

“Now where to?” he asked.

 

“To the Seaview,” was her reply. “But first, put this on.” This proved to be a hooded robe in a brilliant shade of metallic purple, trimmed in a fiery orange. He looked dubiously at the garment for a long moment, but at her exasperated sigh, pulled it on over his uniform. It was a bit long he found, not to mention somewhat on the loose side. She suppressed a very human giggle at the expression on his face and handed him a belt. After some judicious tucking, Nelson finally had the length adjusted to suit him. After one last shake of his head at the ludicrous picture he must present, he judged himself as ready as he was ever going to be and gestured for her to lead the way.

 

With a quick peak out the door to see if anyone was outside, Jillingah led him from the small room. Rather than slip furtively along the shadowy side of the corridor, she chose, once they’d gotten away from the door to his former cell and entered one of the main passageways, to stride with great dignity down the brightly lit center. He followed in her wake, attempting to match her decorum. He must have succeeded, for they passed several creatures similar in appearance to Galen Twelve; all gave way to the pair’s stately advance. As much as he wanted her to tell him exactly what was going on, it was obvious there was too much foot traffic along this part of their escape route to risk conversation.

 

After walking for what to Nelson seemed to be several miles, they approached the outer wall of the tower they were in. He managed to avoid stopping and staring at the impressive vista outside the huge windows, but he couldn’t help quick surreptitious glances. They proceeded to what he quickly realized was a vehicular airlock and boarded what he surmised to be a small shuttlecraft. 

 

“Admiral!” exclaimed a voice he knew well; Nelson turned towards the back of the small craft to find Seaview’s COB, Curly Jones, and ‘Pat’ Patterson, one of the senior ratings, coming forward to great him.

 

“Chief, Pat,” he greeted them, relief obvious in his voice. The sight of familiar faces made this excursion seem a little less risky. “You two know what’s going on here?” he asked as he pulled the outlandish robe off and handed it back to his escort.

 

“Politics,” answered Jones.

 

“Humph.” Nelson had that part figured out. “Details, Chief.”

 

“I think I may be more able to provide that answer, Admiral,” responded Jillingah. “The short answer is that my people - the Faetch - built this city, but as the millennia passed we found ourselves with a faltering birthrate. In order to maintain our lifestyle, we allowed other species to settle among us. This worked until the Doorag came - this is the species that Galen Twelve represents. At first they were few, but now they have overwhelmed us through sheer numbers. I am afraid that the ideals this city represents are fast disappearing as a result - and it has created strife and resentment amongst the other species who live here.”

 

“Those ideals being?” asked Nelson.

 

“That all individuals are born equal in the eyes of the law. That they have the right to determine their own destiny and rise to whatever level their abilities can take them - but not at the expense of others. That none should be repressed simply because of the circumstances of their origin.” She shrugged in a very human manner. “The Doorag have a very stratified society. We thought that they would find freedom among us, but instead they are steadily stealing away the freedoms of our populace and imposing their own repressive social order. Those of our races who have refused to bend to their way have found ourselves squeezed out into only six of the Twelve Cities - and we fear that we will eventually be squeezed from those as well. There is talk of a sundering.”

 

“So what do we have to do with all of this?”

 

“Your species is young and vigorous, Admiral. If you survive yourselves, you may well prove to be a match for the Doorag - but only if they do not gain the technology of the Star Portals.”

 

Nelson grimaced. “They know the local Portal leads to earth. Not much chance of my world being able to stop them at this point.”

 

“True enough. But what they do not know is that my people know the secret behind the Portals, even though we chose not to utilize it. We also know how to destroy the entire Portal system.”

 

“So why haven’t you, if you don’t think they should have the technology?”

 

Jillingah sighed. “Because, Admiral, yours is the only world with a Portal on it’s surface rather than in orbit; it is the keystone of the entire system. The problem for us is if that particular Portal is destroyed from this side it will completely obliterate your planet. We have held back because the deliberate destruction of a sentient species is something abhorrent to us.” She paused before adding morosely, “And your world is so far away that anyone who went through to destroy the Portal system from your side would be marooned - forever. As few in number as we are, we were reluctant to take that step just yet.”

 

“But Seaview changed the equation,” said Nelson thoughtfully. He was beginning to see where this was leading.

 

“Yes. You can destroy the portal system after we send you back. It will protect your world from the Doorag and anyone else who might be seeking the secrets of the Old Ones.”

 

“What about damage on our side? I can’t believe there won’t be any effect at all.”

 

“It will be very limited,” she told him firmly. “We are familiar with the island where the Portal is located. Unless your folk have recently settled there, it is uninhabited. Damage will not extend beyond the area of the ruins of the old city, though it will be catastrophic in the area immediately adjacent to the Portal itself.”

 

“I see,” Nelson said. He was silent for a moment as he pondered her words. “I guess I can only take you at your word. But I do have another question. Galen Twelve indicated that it wasn’t the norm for a star traveling species to meddle in the affairs of one still planet bound. Was he being on the level?”

 

Jillingah cocked her head to one side with a small smile. “It’s been the norm here in this galaxy since the time when my people built the first of the Twelve Cities and took to the stars. It was not before and, I’m sorry to say, probably won’t be in the future. Does that answer your question, Admiral?”

 

“Ah. So it was the influence of your civilization that provided a shelter for less technically advanced worlds.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And for now the Doorag follow that constraint?”

 

“Most of the time.” Jillingah looked troubled as she added, “Over the past few decades, reports have begun to reach us of violations of the interstellar treaties. Now that our authority is waning, I fear the entire system will begin to fall apart and it will be every world and species for itself.”

 

Nelson nodded thoughtfully as he mulled the information over. “As much as I hate the thought of losing the technology the Portals represent, earth‘s safety comes first.”

 

“It isn’t just your world that will benefit, Admiral. There are many other worlds with Portals in their systems that are just as vulnerable - if not more so. Your submarine is proof that your technology is already advanced enough for local space travel. Many of these worlds lack even the most rudimentary level of science. They would be completely helpless to stop an invasion.”

 

“And eliminating the Portals makes them harder to find and reach.” The additional thought crossed his mind that not only would destroying the Portal protect earth from invaders, it would protect other less advanced worlds from earth. He mentally shuddered at the thought of such advanced technology falling into the hands of a nation like the People’s Republic.

 

“Yes.”

 

A call on the craft’s intercom interrupted them. Jillingah stopped to listen for a moment before turning back to Nelson and the others. “We need to prepare for takeoff. We don’t believe the Doorag are aware that you are missing yet, but in case they attempt to stop us, we should be strapped in.”

 

Nelson took the seat she indicated. The safety restraints proved to be automatic, saving him the potential embarrassment of not being able to figure out how they worked. His two crewmen settled into seats behind him while Jillingah took the one across from him. It was clear to him she intended to continue the conversation, but he had some questions of his own first.

 

“Won’t the Doorag know that you’ve helped us escape?”

 

“Of course,” she answered matter of factly, “but the opportunity to eliminate the Portal system without global catastrophe to your world is too good to pass by. We would be morally remiss if we did so.”

 

“It might be a flashpoint for turmoil amongst the races here,” he pointed out.

 

“True,” she acknowledged, “but conflict will come sooner or later anyway. If it comes earlier and at a point our own choosing, where we hold the moral high ground, then perhaps we will fare better in the long run. If nothing else, it means that we will not have forsaken our beliefs for expediency.”

 

Nelson was silent for a long moment, his thoughts troubled. “Do you expect violence then?”

 

Jillingah shrugged. “That has always been a possibility. I will be honest with you, Admiral. Mine is a dying species. We can go out slowly fading away over the next few millennia - or we can go out making a stand for what we believe in. Which would you chose if it was you?”

 

Nelson’s eyebrows arched to his hairline. “Millennia? That’s not a future?”

 

Jillingah smiled wryly at him. “For my people, that is only a couple of generations. We are a long lived species, but it comes with the price of low fertility. It is nature’s way of maintaining balance.”

 

“Ah.” That was a phenomenon he’d seen on earth, but he hadn’t been entirely sure if it was natural or a product of modern human society. Perhaps it was both.

 

The flight proved to be shorter than Nelson expected. The small craft they were aboard slipped into a seemingly tiny opening near the base of one of the towers; the welcome sight of Seaview sitting in a supportive cradle greeted the admiral through the side window. He heaved a sigh of relief as their small craft lowered itself gently down beside the submarine.

 

Seaview is quite extraordinary, Admiral Nelson,” came Jillingah’s voice, breaking into his visual inspection. “Captain Crane tells me that you designed and built her. ” Her tone was questioning.

 

“Yes,” he admitted with pride in his voice, “I did. It was the only way to get what I wanted.”

 

“Yet she is armed?”

 

Nelson sighed. “Not even my family fortune was enough to do it alone. Certain … compromises … had to be made. I wasn’t happy with some of them at the time, but they have proved fortuitous on more than one occasion.”

 

“And will so again, if we can get you back to your world,” she told him softly.

 

“Is the issue in much doubt?” he asked.

 

“Nothing is ever certain, Admiral. The very fact that we have taken the step of liberating you and your vessel from the clutches of the Doorag  will alert them to the fact that something unusual is going on. It will be difficult for us to sneak you to the Portal - we may well have to fight our way in.”

 

Nelson frowned. As much as he wanted to get his people home, it bothered him that it might be at the expense of starting a civil war.

 

Jillingah seemed to read his thoughts. “As I said before, conflict at some level is almost inevitable. Whatever happens, Admiral, know that it was not your fault.”

 

The opening of the hatch cut off whatever he had been about to say. The pilot, another of the Faetch, his crest an impressive blue green, stuck his head through the hatch from the cockpit and murmured something to Jillingah in a liquid babble. Her face took on a look of alarm.

 

“We must hurry, Admiral. The Doorag have discovered you missing from the interrogation chamber and have issued an alert. If we wish to get you back through the Portal, we must do it now.”

 

Nelson could only nod acquiescence. He and his two crewmen followed their escort down the exit steps from the shuttle and hurried across the short distance to Seaview. A ladder led from the deck of the landing bay to the cradle holding the boat. Chip Morton was waiting at the top for them.

 

“Admiral,” he said as he greeted his commanding officer with a salute, “Captain Crane is overseeing the installation of the weapon to destroy the Portal. He asks that you join him in the Missile Room as soon as possible.”

 

Nelson returned the salute. “I’ll be right down, Mr. Morton.” The look of relief on the XO’s face didn’t escape his notice. “Are there any problems I should know about?”

 

Morton gave him a look. “Other than the obvious? Not that I’m aware of, Sir.”

 

A chuckle escaped Nelson. Morton’s dry sense of humor had a tendency to show itself at the oddest times, but it was usually dead on. “Very well, Mr. Morton. Carry on.”

 

Jillingah joined him at the base of the ladder that led up the side of the boat. “We persuaded your Captain to load the device that will destroy the Portal even before we’d located you and set in motion a plan for a rescue. I hope you will not be angry at him.”

 

Nelson shook his head. “Captain Crane knows his first duty lies to the people of earth. Even if it meant leaving me behind, he would do what he had to.”

 

She nodded solemnly. “We have instructed him on the use of the device. If you wish, we will explain for you as well.”

 

“I would appreciate that,” he told her. “Since time seems to be of the essence, I would suggest we begin immediately.”

 

                                                *************

 

Nelson stood once more before Seaview’s windows on the observation deck, looking out at the docking bay around the boat, visually inspecting the results of  hours of frantic preparation. His crew, working with the Faetch techs,  had  rigged a control system to the self propelled cargo sled to which Seaview had been attached, allowing her crew to control her flight, freeing her from the need to be either carried by another ship or towed to her destination. The rest of their work was concealed in the number two missile tube; they had converted one of their ICBMs to carry the device that would destroy the Star Portal terminus on earth, disabling the entire system.

 

He turned to Jillingah, who stood beside him with Captain Crane.

 

“I guess we’re as ready as we can be in the time we had.”

 

“Then it is time for me and my people to take our leave of you, Admiral. I wish the best of fortune to you and your crew - and your world.”

 

“I appreciate that, Jillingah. I hope your own people are able to resolve their problems with a minimum of bloodshed. I like to think that someday my people and yours will meet again somewhere out among the stars.”

 

She gave him a sad smile. “I would like that myself, Admiral.” As the last of the Faetch techs appeared at the hatchway, she placed her hand on Nelson’s. “Farewell, Admiral. If all goes well, we shall not meet again in this life.”

 

The observation deck seemed oddly empty once she had gone.

 

Crane was the first to stir to action. “Admiral, it’s time to get under way. With your permission, sir.”

 

Nelson nodded and Seaview’s captain passed the orders that brought the engines of the cargo sled to life and lifted them off the deck of the docking bay. As the access doors parted, the sled slipped out, accompanied by a pair of armed shuttles. Once again Nelson found himself looking out into the immeasurable void of space as Crane directed the boat‘s course towards the distant Portal. This time he wasn’t floating in zero gee - the sled possessed artificial gravity and shielding to protect Seaview and her crew from the hostile environment of space. It was too bad they weren’t going to be able to take it with them back to earth.

 

Seaview had barely cleared the shadows of the last tower when the Doorag patrol boat spotted them. Their two escorts shifted position, interposing themselves between the sub and her pursuers and powering up their weapons. The patrol boat sheered off and fled towards the city, vanishing between two towers. Nelson exchanged a look with his captain; the die was now cast. Whether or not there would be bloodshed was up to the Doorag.

 

“Control room,” said Crane into the mike, “Increase speed and set a course directly to the Star Portal.” He looked over at Nelson and added, “There’s no point in trying to be subtle now.”

 

Nelson nodded in reluctant agreement. He glanced back out the windows and saw that their escort was keeping pace. He looked at the viewscreen that showed the city now behind them and noted several more small craft on an interception course; their markings indicated that they were mostly Faetch.

 

The Doorag patrol boat reappeared on the viewscreen from between the towers - with company. A larger vessel, one that Jillingah had previously identified to them as the equivalent of a destroyer, followed in the wake of the patrol boat.

 

“Damn,” muttered Crane just loudly enough for Nelson to hear. He had to wholeheartedly agree. While they knew the destroyer would inevitably get involved, they had expected her to enter the chase at a much later point. No one had realized that she had shifted to a much closer position. The only question now was whether or not she would endeavor to capture them or simply open fire and destroy them. Nelson glanced again out the window at their two escorts. They were again shifting position, placing themselves between the destroyer and Seaview. The other Faetch ships also altered course, clearly aiming to join their brethren in their hopeless stand against the might of the warship that was rapidly closing the distance.

 

Admiral and Captain again exchanged glances.

 

“Now what, Admiral?”

 

Nelson’s expression took on a stubborn cast. It wasn’t in him to surrender without a fight - and Seaview wasn’t without teeth of her own.

 

“Lee,” he said thoughtfully, “since we’re not using our own power for propulsion, we can direct nearly the entire output of the reactor to the laser. I’d be willing to bet they won’t expect that. But we’ll have to let them get close - get inside their shields before we can make it count.” He didn’t have to add that it would be a suicide shot.

 

“I’ll get Clark and Patterson right on it,” Crane told him.

 

“Also…,” Nelson paused, then continued in a lower voice, “the missiles will fire in a vacuum. Prep tubes five through eight for firing. If the laser doesn‘t take them out, maybe four nukes will.”

 

Crane paused for a long moment before slowly nodding. “I’ll take care of that personally, Admiral.” He replaced the mike on it’s holder and headed aft to the Missile Room.

 

Nelson stood alone on the observation deck, watching the lopsided battle begin to take shape. Even with the reinforcements of the half dozen Faetch craft that were coming to join them, Seaview and her companions were hopelessly outgunned. The best they could hope for was to bloody the Doorag enough to make them think twice about trying to take on an entire planet of humans.

 

 A moving gleam of light amongst the towers of the city caught his eye. He turned his head to look, blinking in surprise as the point of light fragmented, then resolved into the running lights of a stream of small spacecraft. As he cocked his head to one side in puzzlement, the stream of small vessels thickened into a torrent pouring out of the city from a multitude of points. Surprise gave way to dumbfounded astonishment as he realized that the vessels were all proceeding on courses that would bring them directly into the path of the two Doorag warships. He recognized craft that represented everything from private yachts to aerial taxis to cargo and even garbage haulers. There were Faetch, Noonana, Queera - all the races of the Twelve Cities - and even lower caste Doorag.

 

It was clear that the two warships saw them as well. Both ships altered course, attempting to steer around the advancing multitude of small craft, but to no avail. The multitude of craft simply altered course with them and kept coming. The Doorag had only  two options open to them - back off or open fire on the horde of obviously unarmed civilians.

 

A brief flare of energy blossomed at the bow of the destroyer, slicing across the path of the advancing vessels. Not one slowed or changed course. The destroyer again fired, this time striking the closest vessel. It flared briefly and was gone. The rest simply kept coming. Again the brilliant flare of energy from the destroyer lashed out, this time cutting through the heart of the advancing flotilla. A dozen or more brief flares marked the destruction of individual ships.

 

Still they kept coming, undaunted by the destruction of their fellows, their numbers continuing to swell. Nelson estimated them to now number in the thousands. He felt his chest constrict at their display of bravery; it reminded him poignantly of film he’d seen of Polish citizens in the streets of Warsaw going against Soviet tanks with nothing but Molotov cocktails and their bare hands. A groan escaped him and he bowed his head, feeling unworthy of the sacrifice these people were making. He knew it wasn’t just for Seaview’s sake, but if the boat and her crew hadn’t been here, this might not have happened - at least not like this. They were dying so that he and his people could escape and save their own world.

 

He smacked a fist against the bulkhead in frustration. His conscience - his emotions - wanted to turn Seaview around and join the battle, lost before it began though it might be. His intellect argued that their duty was to earth.

 

A sound almost like a sob drew his attention back to the observation deck. He looked around to see that Crane had returned and was staring in horror at the viewscreen. Their eyes met and in one of those unspoken consensuses knew that their hearts both spoke for the same course of action. Nelson nodded.

 

Crane picked up the mike and spoke. “This is the captain. The civilian population of the city is coming out in unarmed small craft to stand against two Doorag warships. The Admiral and I can’t in good conscience let them stand alone…”

 

The sound of Seaview’s crew cheering filtered through the PA system.. The two men looked at each other. Nelson gave his captain a wry smile and Lee Crane gave him an Annapolis salute, which he returned. The captain again lifted the mike and gave the orders that brought Seaview around to confront the Doorag destroyer and powered up the laser.

 

Seaview’s change of course seemed to galvanize the civilian ships. They began throwing themselves at the two warships, engulfing both in a globe of fiery energy from  impacts on their shielding as Seaview and her two faithful escorts closed the distance between them.

 

They would never know what transpired on the bridge of the destroyer, but she suddenly heeled over and began shaking like a leaf in a strong wind, her course wildly erratic. Those watching could only surmise that there was a fight for control of the ship going on, with at least part of the crew apparently objecting to the wholesale slaughter of civilians.

 

The patrol boat failed to react in time and the two vessels slammed together. The shields of the smaller vessel overloaded, briefly flaring, then shredded like wet paper in a hurricane, laying her hull bare to the energy of the destroyer‘s shields. Her hull glowed a sickly white, then appeared to fold in on itself; in the next heartbeat it exploded back outward in a cloud of deadly shrapnel. Already stressed from the impact, the destroyer’s shields failed to hold under the additional onslaught of thousands of tons of metallic fragments scything through them. They collapsed in a showers of sparks, allowing the deadly hail of metal to carve deep into her hull. Holes appeared, belching air and flame. Then the destroyer too vanished in a searing ball of energy.

 

Nelson and Crane both stared out the windows in disbelief at the fading fireball. From start to finish it had taken less than two minutes. The advancing host of small craft began altering course to meet Seaview and her escorts. Admiral and captain looked at each other, at a loss as to what their next move should be.

 

“Captain,” came the voice of Seaview’s radio operator over the intercom, “we’re being hailed by one of our escorts. Do you want me to put it on the screen on the observation deck or do you want to take it in the radio room?”

 

Nelson reached for the mike. “Sparks, patch it through to us here.”

 

“Yes, sir,” came the reply as the picture on the view screen altered from a view looking aft from the sail to that of the bridge of one of their escorting shuttles. Jillingah stood next to the captain of the other vessel.

 

Nelson spoke first. “Now what do you want us to do, Jillingah? How is this going to affect your people?”

 

She smiled wryly at the two men. “It isn’t something that any of us anticipated happening, Admiral. I’m not sure where we go from here. But I do think for the sake of your own people that you should go ahead and return home now and destroy the Portal system. There may well be those among the Doorag who will say that you instigated what happened here and seek revenge for it.”

 

Nelson shook his head. “When we saw them coming out with unarmed small craft, we couldn’t just sail blithely on. Seaview may not be Navy, but most of us in her crew have been at one time or another. It just isn’t in our nature to stand by while civilians get slaughtered - not if we’re in a position to do anything about it.”

 

She smiled more broadly at them. “I understand that - all of us who were involved on this side do. But now it is time for you to take care of your own world.”

 

Nelson nodded. Though a part of him wanted to stay and see how things turned out for the Faetch and their civilization, earth was his primary concern. “Lee, turn us around and set a course for the Portal.”

 

                                                 ****************

 

Seaview hovered just below the surface of the ocean at periscope depth. Nelson and Crane stood at their respective stations, Failsafe keys inserted into the proper slots. At the Admiral’s signal, both keys turned in unison, activating the missile launch system. The dull boom of a hatch opening filtered through the boat; number two was ready to launch. At a nod to Crane, Nelson flipped back the cover of the launch button and pushed it. A dull whoomp and the lurch of the boat announced the launch of the missile. At the periscope, Morton tracked  the progress of the launch; the scene he was seeing was repeated on the viewscreen in the control room for Nelson and Crane.

 

The missile popped from the water in a spray of steam and gas. The engine ignited, sending it soaring away towards the horizon where the island of Kerguelen waited in the predawn darkness. O’Brien held a stopwatch as they counted down the seconds.

 

“Mark,” he said. Morton pulled back from the periscope and looked instead at the viewscreen.

 

An oddly colored fireball of light blossomed just over the horizon. Streamers of energy flickered across its surface as it expanded, reaching high into the atmosphere. Suddenly it stopped, seeming to freeze for an instant, then with astonishing abruptness, imploded in on itself and vanished.

 

“Exactly like they said it would happen,” grunted Nelson. “All the energy sucked back into the Portal.” He stepped back from the viewscreen and turned to Crane. “Once the sun comes up, we’ll check the island for damage and then head for home.”

 

“What are you going to tell Washington about all this?” asked Crane.

 

“As little as possible,” answered Nelson, “as little as possible.”

 

 

END