Warp Point
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Warp Point
by Darrell Bain
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Science Fiction/Fantasy
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Twilight Times Books
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Copyright ©
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Warp Point
By Darrell Bain
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Warp Point
Copyright © 2007 Darrell Bain.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or other-wise except brief extracts for the purpose of review, without written permission of the publisher and the copyright owner.
Twilight Times Books
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Credits
Cover artwork—Kurt Ozinga
Managing Editor—Ardy M. Scott
Publisher: Lida E. Quillen
Published in the United States of America.
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BOOK ONE
The Warp Point
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Chapter One
“It has to be,” Matt Selman said, standing and staring at rows of figures on his monitor. The data arriving in his office at the University of Houston was coming from the University of Hawaii's astronomy department, routed through a geosynchronous satellite. He touched a key. The screen flickered and the columns of figures were replaced by a graphic representation. A line appeared at the edge of the large screen directly above his desk and progressed toward the center. The line was green at its origin, then gradually changed to a dark red color.
“Why?” Tara Whitley asked from beside him, her voice holding a tremor of excitement. “How can you tell?” She was looking at him, not the monitor.
Matt shrugged, as if the moment wasn't really so momentous that it was causing his pulse to race. “Easy. Once they backtracked, they found it was accelerating from the moment it appeared, and now it's decelerating."
For a long moment Tara was speechless. Without really thinking about it, she found her hand gripping Matt's upper arm. She simply stared at the monitor, trying to make herself believe in what Matt had told her and what the data had just revealed. Unconsciously, she glanced around to see whether anyone else was in the room with them who might laugh at her reaction to the improbable data. The information was coming from Pan-STARRS, the Panoramic Survey Telescope, then downloaded to their own astronomy department at the University of Houston. The Pan-STARRS had been developed by the University of Hawaii, and was used, among other duties, to detect potentially dangerous objects which might threaten Earth.
Matt noticed Tara's reaction and grinned, making him look younger than the forty years he had just reached. “No use in thinking Houston can keep this a secret. Hawaii's already got the data, as well as Colorado and a dozen other places.” He was still getting used to having his new assistant around. He had worked by himself so long that having someone to share the duties had come as a surprise, one he hadn't been sure he would like at first. Now, though, he was glad to have another person to share his delight at this latest development from the Pan-STARRS telescope. It had worked exactly as it was designed to, although had the phenomenon on his monitor occurred a week later, the scope would have been involved in a large scale survey of far more distant objects for several weeks and another observatory would probably have made the discovery. He doubted that survey would occur now! Not with an alien object entering the solar system—and doing it in a fashion which only wild theorists had thought possible.
Tara forced a smile, though amusement was the last thing she was feeling at the moment. “I'm trying to imagine what the public reaction will be. After all the decades of searching and thousands of science fiction stories depicting this exact scene, I'll bet no one will believe it at first."
“We won't have much to say about it,” Matt pointed out. “The news is already circulating. I'll bet CNN is already on it, or will be soon. Something like this is too awesome for a cover-up."
“But I'll bet some politicians will try—or at least downplay its significance."
“Of course they will,” Matt said, glad to find that Tara shared his view of politics, in this instance anyway. He suddenly noticed how close she was standing and how fiercely she was gripping his arm. Although nothing romantic had developed between them, he held a rather faint hope that something might. Their disparity in age had kept him from broaching the subject so far. She was barely in her mid-twenties, fifteen years younger than he. Besides, he was no hunk, nor very good looking, what with shocks of reddish hair that wouldn't stay in place and a sprinkling of freckles across his face. Why would someone like her, a young pretty woman with raven hair and a ready smile, be interested in him? Not to mention the fact that anything he said to her along those lines might be taken as sexual harassment. Despite the easy nature of their relationship to date, she was a subordinate, working for him.
“Well, what do we do next?"
Matt brought his thoughts back from the realm of unfulfilled desire to the reality of the present. He suddenly felt a little woozy, a delayed reaction from the spurt of adrenalin that had rushed through his body upon first discerning the import of the downloaded data. “I think the first thing I'd better do is sit down. I got a little too excited and didn't realize it.” He gently removed her hand from his arm and sat down in the chair in front of the monitor. He looked at her. “Pull up a seat, Tara, and we'll see if we can find out what the initial reactions are on the net.” He grinned at her. “I bet they'll be good for some laughs, huh?"
* * * *
“What in hell is on that geek's mind to make him so goddamned insistent on seeing the president?” Chase Redglove asked, but got no immediate answer from his subordinates. They were used to the White House chief of staff talking to himself.
Finally one of the junior members present ventured an opinion. “It has to be about that so-called spaceship, sir."
“Spaceship? What goddamned spaceship? We've got more important things to do than talk about a fucking spaceship! Those goddamned rocket scientists think the space program is the only fucking thing in government worth spending time or money on."
They were also used to Redglove's bursts of profanity.
“Uh, sir, I don't think it's about the space program,” Gene Flanders, his senior assistant, said. “There's news circulating on the net about...” He hesitated a moment, trying to decide how to put it to Redglove without having his boss skin the hide from his neck for bringing it up. “...well, they're saying a spaceship from outside of the solar system is on a path toward Earth."
Redglove's mouth set in lines of pure disgust. “Goddamn it Gene, that fucking SETI program has been wasting government money for decades. Tell Marvin Stanforth to go to hell. No, wait.” He pierced the junior assistant who had spoke first with his eyes. He pointed, not remembering the woman's name. “You go tell him. Don't hurry back."
Blushing furiously, the young lady left the room, trailing thoughts behind her that would have gotten her fired on the spot had they been vocalized.
Redglove flipped a page on the morning's agenda. “Okay Gene, I need you to brief that fucking Marine general who's causing all the flak about shortfalls in equipment. Make it plain to him
that we don't have the money and don't have an ice cube's chance in hell of getting it any time soon. Shut him up. See the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs if you have to, but I want him stifled. Goddamned Marines, think they're fucking supermen, let them use what they have."
The phone in front of him rang. Redglove was already so irritated that he picked it up himself. “What!” he yelled. “No! You ever call again while I'm in a meeting you can kiss your fucking job good-by. Huh?” Chase's face split in a grin. He slammed the phone down. “Takes care of that,” he said, nodding to himself. “The president's science advisor just quit. Or at least I think so. Now where were we?"
* * * *
Marvin Stanforth seethed, fantasizing over ways Chase Redglove might meet a slow and painful death. Redglove was practically a card carrying Luddite, so far as Marvin was concerned, and a bigot besides, who made little effort to conceal his distaste for anyone other than pure white Anglo Saxons in government—or any other position of authority. Marvin waved his admin assistant away and sat at his desk, chin propped on clasped hands, trying to think of his next move. He didn't really want to quit his job, though he had come close to saying so a moment before. Anyhow, right now the important thing was figuring out a way to bypass Redglove and get to the president. This event was earth-shakingly important and the president had to be made to realize it. He brought one hand away from his chin and down to his desk, then began tapping its surface with his forefinger. Somehow, that always helped him think when he needed to solve a problem in a hurry.
A few minutes later Marvin picked up the phone. He hated using his race to get what he needed, but in this case he felt it was justified. The president was of necessity a political animal; there was no other way to get elected these days. If Redglove wouldn't listen to his science advisor after being told plainly there was an emergency, then perhaps the president would talk to a politician. In this case, Ramon Clearman, titular head of the Democratic Party in California and chairman of that state's black caucus, might be the man. He dialed Ramon's number from his near-eidetic memory.
“Hello, Marvin. What's on your mind?” Ramon answered after Marvin had waded through a couple of flaks who guarded access to their boss.
“I need to see the president and Chase is tuning me out."
“Is it about that bullshit spaceship story, Marvin?"
“It's not bull, it's the real thing, Ramon. The president needs to be briefed as soon as possible."
“Did you tell that to Redglove?"
“Yes I did. It was like talking to a brick wall. I don't think that man really believes in space, not down in his bones where it counts. He's a complete illiterate so far as science is concerned."
There was a long pause. “All right, Marvin, I can get you in, but this better be good. I'm going to have to use up a bushel basket of favors to buck the appointments secretary. The president's a stickler for letting him handle his schedule."
“Thanks, Ramon. I would say I owe you one, but this is bigger than simply trading favors. Our whole future may depend on how this is handled. You'll call me back?"
“I will. Stay close to your phone."
Marvin breathed a sigh of relief, then turned on his television in his office and began rapidly scanning the developing news while making cryptic notes on how he would present the latest data to the president. The man wasn't a simpleton like so many of the electorate, but he had a huge workload and an equally huge number of problems. The rise of Muslim fundamentalism had upset the whole world of geopolitics and it was still in flux. Not to mention the fact that if anyone looked closely, the United States was broke, and its borrowing power was strained to the limit.
An hour later he had his appointment. Four thirty in the Oval Office. Marvin glanced at his watch and called his driver, wishing his office was closer to the White House.
* * * *
Dan Saddler muted the volume of the television in the den and turned to his wife, Stacy. “Wow, sweetheart! What a story! I just hope it's true."
Stacy took her husband's hand and leaned against him. She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. “I hope so too. I used to think science fiction was foolish until you got me reading it. Golly, this is just like something from one of our books."
Dan kissed his wife and thought of how much he loved her. The spacious den and big wide-screen television were some of the benefits of a life spent together in hard work, building up a software company and finally selling it for a considerable amount of money. Still in their early forties, they had retired to the piney woods area of East Texas and built a home there.
“Well, shucks, we've been wondering what we were going to do with the rest of our lives, but now I think we'd better delay any decisions until we see what comes of this."
Stacy brushed at her short, taffy blond hair and nodded. “I think you're right, hon. If this is true, the whole world's going to be in turmoil. Lord God, I don't even like to think about it."
“I think it's the real thing, sweetie. That telescope in Hawaii was built specifically for this sort of thing, in part. I don't see how it could be a hoax."
“How about a natural phenomenon? That's happened before, something we didn't understand at first being taken for messages from the stars."
“I don't think so, not this time. There's nothing known that can decelerate like they say this object is doing—and without any visible indication of thrust as well.” He suddenly brightened. “Hey, want a drink? I'm going to make me one."
Stacy smiled and patted her husband on the thigh. “Why not? I think this deserves a special celebration."
Dan winked as he got up. “Special celebration” was one of their key phrases for making love.
“Make a pitcher of punch!” Stacy called after him as he headed for the bar across the room. She wanted the late afternoon and evening to be eventful, and punch would string out the anticipation better than mixed drinks.
Stacy turned up the volume on the television again since the commercial was over, but it was only an earlier segment being re-broadcast. Instead of looking at it, she watched her husband, admiring his slender but well-muscled form. He hadn't let himself go like so many men did as they approached middle age, and the hard work of landscaping and moving into their new home had kept him active. For that matter, she didn't think she had much to complain about with her own body. She had been unable to conceive despite numerous attempts and spending a small fortune at fertility clinics. Not having children had a lot to do with her trim body, but like Dan, she had stayed active and exercised regularly. She knew she didn't have a spectacular figure, but it was firm and shapely enough. She was satisfied; with herself, with Dan, and life in general, other than their failure to have children. That was especially true now, living in their spacious new home. They hadn't even had to spend money on the land. Dan had inherited the 500 acre ranch from his father. They had sold off what cattle remained, then torn down the old house and built a new one, farther back from the county blacktop road, for more privacy. When they wanted company, there was always Houston or Shreveport, over in Louisiana. They had friends living in both places, like Matt Selman. In fact...
“Here you go,” Dan said, handing her a glass of punch and sitting down beside her with his own. He glanced toward the television. “Something new, looks like."
Stacy lost the thread of thought involving their astronomer friend as the anchor came on with breaking news.
* * * *
Brigadier General Chester Hawkins, liaison officer of SFO, Space Forces and Operations, was briefing the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. The commanding generals of all four branches of the military were present. There were no civilians at this meeting. The Chairman, General Harry Binds, would talk to government figures later, the ones who counted. In his opinion, there weren't many.
General Hawkins was going down the list of points he had written on an index card he held in one hand. “Sir, we've backtracked to when the object was first sighted. It isn't something that has
been approaching us gradually. It appeared suddenly. We have regular observations dating back months and years of that area of the sky and there's no sign of it prior to March seventeenth of this year. It is—"
“Hold on a moment,” General Binds ordered. “Can you tell us what that means, the sudden appearance?"
Hawkins debated inside his mind for several seconds, deciding how to present the answer. “Sir, the conclusion of a number of highly respected scientists is that, since faster than light travel is theoretically impossible, the object must have come through some sort of ... well, warp point is a good term, I suppose. An area of space congruent with another area light years distant."
“Warp point. How does that work? Could we build one?"
“Sir, we have no idea of the mechanism of the warp point, whether it's natural or produced by ... by whoever or whatever controls the object. It's certainly far beyond our abilities, if it is a construct. The thinking so far is that it's not. The really bright boys think it's natural and that there may be many of them in the galaxy.” He waited a moment to see if there were more questions. When he saw there weren't, he continued. “As I was saying, the object is still on an intercept course with Earth. That hasn't changed since it began decelerating."
Hawkins paused a moment to look at his card, then continued. “There is no evidence of thrust of any kind which might be responsible for the deceleration. We have no idea how it's being done, but if it continues as it is now, the object will arrive near Earth on or about the tenth of May."
“Why do you keep referring to it as an object, rather than a spaceship?” General Binds asked.
So far, the other generals were deferring to the chairman for questions. Hawkins suspected it was because they didn't want to show their ignorance of what was happening. They shouldn't mind, he thought. No one else knew much, either. “Sir, a spaceship implies something manned. We don't know whether it is or not. It could be a robot craft, like the instrument packages we've sent around the solar system, except this is being done on a much more ambitious scale, of course."