Branegate Page 13

  People crowded to the bar as transition occurred, but Leonid and Tatjana sat in their corner, sharing a rainbow drink. One thump was felt through the floor as a tug-ship nudged them into an optimal position at the last moment, and then the flickering ovoid was swallowing them up. Gas flowed by, a myriad of bright colors, not rapid but steady, a vague impression of walls, like a tunnel. Ahead of them was flickering yellow, orange and red, and then a dark spot appeared, rushing towards them, then not a spot but an ovoid in black and then bright points of light and diaphanous clouds in red and green.

  They were through. They were home. People applauded, and cheered, but Leonid and Tatjana sat quietly and finished their drink. They went back to their quarters for sleep before beginning to pack their things. It was only two days before their vessel would reach the border world of Cay Benz, where they would present their papers and be assigned a ship home. A delegation from Kratola was scheduled to meet them there, arranged for them by Tatjana’s family.

  They were excited about going home after such a long time, but wondered how terribly things could have changed there.

  CHAPTER 14

  Trae was nearing his twentieth birthday when they reached Elderon.

  It was a blue world, with a single continent and a myriad of small islands dotting an azure sea. There was one season, the climate mild. This was due to the planet’s circular orbit around a G3 star, and a rotational axis that was perpendicular to the plane of the ecliptic. No moon graced the sky, but the atmosphere was pristine and tight regulations kept light pollution to a minimum in the coastal cities. Young mountain ranges with sharp peaks separated the cities from the interior of the continent, a vast high plateau virtually unpopulated. One large river running north to south cut the continent nearly in half and was fed by a spider web of streams from glacial lakes high in the mountains. Along this river, slightly north of the continental center, a single sign of habitation could be seen: a scattering of buildings surrounded by a sprawl of family dwellings, acres of green fields stretching south along the river. Unseen from the sky were the millions of acres of underground steel and concrete that was the bulk of a substantial city.

  It was the first city of The Immortals, had been the first permanent settlement of those adventurers and missionaries who’d penetrated the brane to discover new worlds, and who had found people biologically like themselves on the other side.

  The debate on Kratola had raged for centuries, yet questions remained unanswered. The Immortals, as far as they knew, had constructed the first branegates to the neighboring universe, and people had been waiting for them, their DNA identical except for the number of random defects, especially seen in mitochrondrial studies. If one accepted these studies, then the ancestors of The Immortals had evolved more recently than those of the native people in this universe. The difference in the times of their origins was over a hundred thousand years, well before the first recordings of history in The Immortals’ worlds. It seemed unlikely that random chemical reactions could produce identical species in any two universes; the currently favored theory was that another race, far older, had populated both universes, perhaps many others, leaving its seed to propagate at its own rate and fashion.

  The hundred thousand year time difference might even explain why the settled worlds in this universe were so much farther away from the galactic core than were the worlds of The Immortals in their home universe. When Trae ran the numbers in his head they made sense, for without any spacetime jumps, unknown to the worlds of the Emperors’ League, it had taken him over four years to travel only two light years.

  The time had gone quickly, his life planned for him by his fathers. The technology of three hundred years had been squeezed into every dendritic link in his brain, but Petyr had also downloaded it all to cube in more organized pieces. The collection had grown to over a thousand of them: mathematics, physics, nanochemistry, economics, business, the history of two universes—these were only a few of the subjects. To recall and use material it was necessary to do it again and again, though his comprehension was built in. He understood everything, without conscious effort.

  Synthesis was another matter. New knowledge generated from old was problem solving, and required constant practice. His older, absentee father had generated a workbook for him, filled with problems of increasing difficulty until reaching the unsolved problems intended as the tasks in his young life. At first glance, it all seemed impossible:

  1. Resize the branegate from millions of miles to a size commensurable to the size of an interstellar craft.

  2. Investigate the possibility of rapid intergalactic or intragalactic travel by using branegates to jump universes at one point and quickly re-enter at another distant point. Normal spacetime folding is inefficient in terms of travel distance shortened per terrajoule of energy consumed.

  3. Compactify a vacuum energy generator from planet-size to shuttle-size. Spatial opening to access the false-vacuum state should be variable in both size and stability time in order to achieve a range of variable thrust.

  Only three items, but it seemed to Trae it would take a thousand lifetimes, even with the technology available to him. And that technology was buried beneath a great plateau on a planet called Elderon.

  They landed on the plateau at some distance from the visable part of the city. Two cars from the Zylak headquarters were there to meet them, without representatives, only drivers who said a few polite words and handled their luggage. Whether these men were normal or Immortal, Trae could not tell. Elderon was truly a planet of The Immortals, and Trae felt nervous anticipation at meeting them. So far he only knew his parents: mother, two fathers, one young and with him, one old and now in another universe. He remembered the strange voices he’d heard years before, when he’d first learned what he was. His parents? Perhaps not. The voices had not returned, yet his absent father had said that all Immortals, especially family members, were connected in some way. Trae still wondered who the voices belonged to and what they were to him. He wondered if they would come back to him, if he might even meet some of these people, now that he was on Elderon.

  It was a two-hour drive back to the city they’d passed over seconds before landing. Trae didn’t wonder why the shuttleport was so far away. Halfway back to the city they could hear and feel takeoff of the shuttle they’d come in on. The ground shook beneath them, and the car shuddered as if struck by strong gusts of wind.

  The driver didn’t say a word to them all the way in. They were on a speedway and traffic was heavy, little bullet-shaped cars with exhaust pipes flashing short jets of flame when they accelerated. Hydrogen powered, all of them, and a watery haze hovered over the speedway.

  First there were houses arranged in neat blocks, looking like identical copies out of a mold. The downtown area was small, perhaps a mile square, the tallest building a few stories of glass and plas-steel reflecting bright sunlight. They entered what looked like a tunnel, a row of bright lights in a ceiling curving gradually, then tighter as they slowed, a descending spiral beneath the ground, but not for long. They came out of the tunnel and the true city was there: busy streets and windowless buildings several stories high, all illuminated by full spectrum light panels far up on a ceiling. In seconds their eyes adjusted; it was as if they were up on the surface, and the warm light of a sun was beating down on them.

  They stopped in front of one of the largest buildings. When they got out of the car Trae noticed a breeze blowing, and there was a faint flowery scent in the air. The car carrying their luggage sped off again after the drivers spoke briefly to each other. The driver of their car motioned them to follow him, and led them inside the building. The first floor was a foyer with shining stone floors in black and walls of white marble. Two elevators in clear tubes and an escalator went up to higher floors. There was a reception desk, and standing before it were three people, a woman and two men, dressed in suits. The older of the two men smiled, and extended his hand as Trae approached them.

  T
rae shook the man’s hand. “You must be Mister Meza,” he said warmly. “My father has told me about you.”

  “Only good things, I hope,” said Meza. He smiled, but looked Trae over carefully. “My associates Myra Dan and Wallace Hunley. Myra is in mathematics, and also runs my information office, and Wallace is our Director of Applied Research.”

  Trae shook their hands. They smiled and made nodding bows. The woman was quite pretty, he thought, and Wallace he knew had been a chief engineer long before moving into management. He’d been with father’s corporation for over a lifetime. Wallace was an Immortal, and Trae wondered about the other two people. Were they all connected the way he’d been told?

  Absolutely, came a thought, and Meza smiled broadly. We’re connected as much as you want us to be.

  Meza had heard his question, and Myra had heard everything. She was blushing.

  “It will be useful when we talk about technical matters,” said Wallace. “The brain is so much faster than the currents powering our motor reflexes. Your father has sent us a list of topics for our initial discussions. I must say the tasks he’s asking us to do are formidable, even impossible, considering our present technology.”

  “I agree. New technology is necessary, but the old physics is enough. I’ve been working on some ideas for the past four years, and—”

  “Time for that later,” said Meza. “Right now we’ll take you upstairs for a light lunch, then Myra will give you a quick tour of the corporate offices. Tomorrow is my day, and the day after you’ll be with Wallace.”

  “I look forward to it,” said Wallace, his head cocked to one side. “Layered superconductors. What an interesting idea.”

  “What?” said Trae. The idea had surfaced only months before, and was to be part of his initial presentation.

  “Sorry. I was prying; it’s a rude habit of mine. Curiosity and impatience get the better of me sometimes.”

  Meza clucked his tongue. “Engineers can be so devious when it comes to new ideas. Don’t worry, you two will have plenty of time together. Now let’s eat.”

  Petyr had been standing there with them the whole time. Careful, came a thought. The man is your bodyguard and companion, nothing more. The thought seemed to freeze his brain. For the moment, it made sense.

  Trae took Petyr affectionately by the arm. “This is Petyr. He’s my constant companion, teacher, bodyguard, and many things. He does my scans, is there for my upgrades. I depend on him. I’d like to have him eat with us and attend all my meetings, please.”

  “Of course,” said Meza. “Your father has told us all about your guardianship, sir. It seems you’re his right hand.”

  “It’s my honor,” said Petyr, voice deep, and he shook the man’s hand.

  Meza winced. “Ah, a soldier of The Church. Religion is not prevalent on Elderon, but you’ll be able to find a few of your kind here. There are believers on every planet, as far as I know.”

  I meant no offense to The Church, came a thought before Trae could even voice his opinion on what had sounded to him like an insulting remark.

  “You’re certainly welcome to join us,” said Meza, and smiled. Petyr did not return it, but followed them dutifully up the escalator to a large meeting room with a round, linen-covered table where they had a salad with strips of marinated poultry and the edible petals of several flower varieties, a sweet biscuit, and tea.

  Conversation was light, but it was clear father had told them a few things and not others. They knew about the caverns and the harrowing escape from Gan to Galena. They didn’t seem to know about their royal visit on Galena, but knew of Trae’s meeting with his parents and the vast information bank that had been loaded into him.

  Trae followed his instincts; what Father did not want them to know they would not know. In only minutes with others like him Trae could garble any thought he wished to with a mess of random information. It quickly became a game. Nearing the end of the meal, he was enjoying the game until another thought came to him.

  Don’t try so hard. It’s distracting. Trae smiled faintly, looked around the table, but there was no reaction to be seen there.

  Lunch ended, Meza and Wallace went back to their work and Myra guided them on a quick tour of two floors of offices and cubicles where the day to day business of Zylak Industries was conducted. There was really not much to see, except Myra, who also gave him a pile of literature and prospectus of the various holdings, and suggested strongly that he at least scan them. He didn’t tell her that all the information was in his head; it seemed arrogant of him to do so.

  Even with a quick tour it was late afternoon when they were finished. A new driver came for them and they went through the ritual of getting in and out of the limousine just so they could drive a hundred yards down the street to a hotel also owned by Zylak Industries. They were put up grandly in a penthouse suite of five rooms with large windows on three sides looking out over the subterranean city.

  “Welcome to the world of extreme wealth,” quipped Petyr when Trae grinned at him from the cushiony embrace of a long sofa.

  “Does it bother you?” asked Trae, suddenly serious.

  “No. It’s part of the family fortune, so enjoy it. Just don’t let luxurious amenities distract you from what you have to do.”

  “It’s your fortune, too,” said Trae.

  “I don’t need it, not in this way. Neither does Leonid Zylak. It’s service that counts, service to an individual or an entire civilization. That’s what we’re about, Trae. Not the luxury, but while we have it I will enjoy it with you.”

  Now Petyr smiled, and Trae relaxed again.

  Dinner was sent up to them, a roast with new potatoes and served with a fine red wine. Petyr drank most of it, but allowed Trae half a glass. It was Trae’s first experience with an alcoholic beverage, and he didn’t particularly care for it.

  Their luggage had been unpacked for them and put away in two separate bedrooms. Trae thought it a courtesy, but Petyr was suspicious as usual. Even though his briefcase had been locked, he made several spot-checks of the memory cubes inside to see if they might have been recently opened. This took up half the evening, while Trae watched a documentary on medically useful aquatic Elderonian plants on the giant screen in their living room.

  They retired late to their separate bedrooms. Trae was over-stimulated by the events of the day, his mind still going over questions he wanted answered the following day. But as he finally drifted into the twilight of sleep, a pleasant thought came to him like a soft breeze, and it was not his own.

  Good night, Trae. I hope you’ll be happy here and want to stay a while.

  He immediately fell asleep, feeling suddenly welcomed. And in the morning he remembered it.

  He’d expected his day with Meza to be boring, but it was not. Trae gained new respect for the man. He demonstrated a solid grasp of the intricate networking required for the many units of the conglomerate while allowing the units to operate internally as independent businesses. His knowledge of interplanetary business and economics was profound and he was a “people” person, quick with a smile, a compliment, a warm handshake. If there was a flaw in the man it was arrogance, but Trae could tolerate that as long as the man’s competence and performance justified it.

  The conglomerate itself was incredibly diverse, with divisions in materials, electronics, energy, medicine, computer systems, manufacturing and astronautics. New sub-divisions came and went as the needs arose. And Meza was running all of it.

  Myra appeared a couple of times to give Meza important messages that included cubes for his review. Meza seemed to sense Trae’s interest in her. “She’s much more than an administrator. Myra’s an expert in both management information systems and economics. She does most of the geometric algorithm work for our modeling people. You can never tell, of course, but she’s a third generation lady with well over two hundred years of experience. Not bad for a thirty-year-old, eh?”

  Trae found it interesting, but disappointing. Myra
looked twenty—tops.

  The conglomerate that was Zylak Industries was not public, did not issue stock, but had a governing board. Meza was its chairman. He’d offered to provide a position for Trae on the board, but Father had refused it, saying that his son needed to be quietly hidden in the research division where all the new technology would be happening. This was fine with Trae. Business was interesting, but it was the practice of science and engineering he really wanted to do. That made the second day of his visit much more interesting.

  The first day Petyr had seen him to the limousine, then stayed behind, saying only that he would find other things to do during the day. That evening he didn’t say what he’d done, and Trae didn’t ask. Trae suspected he’d spent the day with his collection of memory cubes. The second day was different. Petyr got in the car with them; they drove not to the corporate offices, but to a building near them. It was early, and the ceiling lights high above the city went from orange to light yellow before they reached their destination. Wallace Hunley himself was there to greet them.

  Wallace ignored Petyr, who nonetheless followed them closely. “I was up half the night thinking about what your father has proposed. A lifetime or two might even put a dent in it.” He laughed.

  They entered the three-storied building of windowless concrete. The entrance was a short hallway with four elevator doors, and one was open. They entered the open elevator. Wallace inserted a key and turned it. They descended.

  “The sub-basement isn’t marked, and we’ll give you a key for entry. This is where you’ll be spending your time here,” said Wallace.

  The door opened. Soft music. Panel lights in the ceiling were a light green over a forest of cubicles. “Welcome to the think tank,” said their host.

  There was more to it than cubicles: meeting rooms, cafeteria, auditorium, several rooms with bunk beds, and an IC 1200 supercomputer with an entire wall filled with memory. Many of the cubicles were empty. “We’re a bit early,” explained Wallace. “A lot of folks work out and eat breakfast upstairs before coming down.”