Gods Dogs, Book 3

Scientists often call Andromeda galaxy a big bully. The two satellite galaxies of Andromeda, the M32 and M110 are the worst sufferers. Andromeda once ripped off a large chunk of M32’s stellar disk and also ripped off a large stream of stars from M110.

Sankalan Baidya

The multi-verse was a product of an ancient Taoist saying: From Yin and Yang come the ten thousand things. From the Void, Raina could review all those possibilities emanating from the primal or archetypal Yin and Yang: Looped superstrings and open ones on their branes, like cards slotted into computer banks. Four branes for the apparent or consensus reality where everything followed the laws as scientists knew them. There were other realities or dimensions that rested on more or fewer branes at their foundation. Laws there were a bit more fluid.

Indeed, ‘reality’ in the quantum foam was the product of observation. It had been argued that consciousness was necessary for reality to exist at all – at least in any recognizable form. In the Void, though, Raina wasn’t restricted to the reality consciousness reaped: the observed phenomena. She could see the possibilities. Even so, much of what she could access was a mystery, but what she recognized flowed into her with intuitive hits of knowledge. Blank spaces in her understanding of various theories filled in, as if she was asking questions that were graciously answered before they were spoken.

Her intent, apart from the curious part of her that welcomed the intuitive hits, was to find the exotic particle that would make her idea of a wormhole bridge aboard a starship a reality. After a long while, an unnamed exotic particle, common in another dimension, rare in this one, floated into Raina’s vision. It liked a wandering lifestyle, which wasn’t like the particles she knew. Fermions influenced matter; bosons were ‘force particles’ that influenced fermions. The particle she was focused on now didn’t fit in either category. It wandered and bumped both fermions and bosons. She suspected it was a more fundamental particle, which was predicted by preon theory, but the experiments to find these precursor particles met with little success in the past. Perhaps it was time to revisit those studies.

Intuitively, though, there needed to be something that preceded the ‘zoo of particles,’ as it was sometimes called. Archetypal logic demanded it. There was first the archetypal form, like a cookie cutter, then there were the unique, individual manifestations of form – sugar cookies, peanut butter, glazed, oatmeal, etc.

She wasn’t sure if the particle she was examining was in the preon category, and at this moment she didn’t care. She needed to find out if a quantum entangled pair of this wandering particle would anchor a wormhole between a moving ship and a stationary gate.

Raina relaxed and followed her breathing back to her body and the consensus reality. Once there, Grace, who was monitoring Raina’s activity in the Void, started in.

[I have catalogued your find and made some calculations on how to create the particle.]

[Thank you. We’ll need to tighten up the math and send it to Solomon.]

Two days later, they called Solomon. After they sent the data and explained what it was, Solomon told them, “This would give us a one-way gate system, but it also gives us a foot in the door to a two-way setup.”

“Yeah,” Raina said, doubtful, “if you can miniaturize the sending mechanism.”

“Lots of people have been working on that, but not very aggressively since we couldn’t link a stationary gate to a moving one.”

“I’d like to see how you would miniaturize it,” Raina said. Currently, gate technology required a moon-sized support base for it to work. Much of that was for manufacturing the wormhole so that something could be sent through. There was no need for much at the exit point if it was one-way, other than anchoring the terminus of the wormhole.

“Later,” Solomon barked, but then caught himself for being too brusque. “I do mean to include you, because when we miniaturize the system it opens another door – a ship-based wormhole generator that doesn’t need a gate at the other end. Your wilas-particle could be the way we accomplish it.”

“Wilas?”

“ Slavic mythology. Spelled with a ‘w,’ but pronounced as a ‘v.’ It’s a reference to trapped female souls that wander around. At any rate, the possibility exists that we can use them to anchor moving gates at both ends.”

“Well, it would take some doing just to target some location and jump there,” Raina said.

“It will, and it’s not an immediate concern. We’ve analyzed their waste heat system. I’m sending you the file. In short, they use a graphene composite for their radiators. It’s old tech but a clever adaptation. I’d like you to see if there’s a better composite.”

“I’ll look into it,” Raina said. “We’ll arrive at our destination soon. I’m planning on broad scans to see if there are any significant differences between our galaxy and theirs. They’ve got older stars in the outer arms, due to the smaller galaxies Andromeda tore apart, and the spiral arms are deformed. Should be interesting.”

“Good thinking. My thought is the mineral distribution could be different, and it’s possible older civilizations were pulled into Andromeda.”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks again. Solomon clear.”

They arrived a few days later and dropped out of sail-powered flight once they reached the galactic halo. The fleet broke up, and the other ships in the fleet apparently headed to their separate empires.

The ship with Satya and two frigate-sized escorts traveled by FTL and through stargates to a planet two-thirds of the way to the core of Andromeda. During the trip, the delegation found out the five empires were like triangular slices of a giant pie. The main planets for each empire was core-ward in a ring about two-thirds in. The planet they were headed for was the sixth planet in this ring where the five empires could meet and work to maintain the shaky peace through an organization known as the Accords Council.

They docked at a space station above a verdant world with wind-swept oceans. The station was a spindle, which held the life support systems, and two stacked rings or donuts connected by six spokes each to the spindle. The ship docked at one of the spokes on the lower donut.

Commander Nomero told them to stay aboard Satya until their hosts figured out what to do with the delegation. With Satya’s access to the battleship’s systems, they knew there was a debate about what to do. The original plan, which was preliminary to an invasion, was out the window, but crafting a new plan would take some time.

Capt. John called general quarters as they came into dock. Quinn was on the bridge in the secondary tactical seat. Moss was down a deck in the auxiliary bridge. Raina was at her science station. Pax and River were in the armory. Commander Nomero and the two negotiators were also on the bridge.

Satya was saying, “Mudark and Oscar Juliet Prime are arguing for diplomatic status on our behalf. The other three are arguing for different forms of prisoner status.”

The argument continued as a station-based group of five representatives and their escorts, along with the shipboard delegation clanged into the landing bay where Satya was parked.

Commander Nomero said, “The negotiators, the Coyotes, and I will meet with them. Captain Twin Bears, stand ready to defend your ship.”

The group of seven exited at the aft ramp to face a crowd of thirty or more. Quinn noted the dignitaries wore loose, colorful clothing, and their soldiers were in light armor. The royal guardsmen, though, arrayed themselves at the bottom of the ramp facing the crowd. The positioning was clear they were there to protect the delegation from the Milky Way.

“Looks like we have friends,” Moss noticed as they stepped past the royal guardsmen.

One of the hairy Cherts spoke up from across the intervening space, “We did not authorize a diplomatic mission.”

Negotiator Heng-chern replied, “It would behoove you to do so now. You have nothing to lose, and we are now here. There is much to gain.”

“You will be prisoners-of-war,” was the reply. “That is all I can guarantee.”

Mudark clarified, “There is a treaty on the treatment for prisoners of war. Section Leader Anabol is adamant that you not be granted diplomatic status, but he is willing to offer prisoner of war status.”

“And the others of your people?” Heng asked. “Are they in agreement?”

“They are less adamant.”

Quinn spoke, “Moss, help Section Leader Anabol rethink his options.”

“Pax?” Moss queried.

“He’s a blustering bully.”

“Okay,” Moss grinned and stepped forward with deliberate strides. His body language was controlled and calm. He strode across the intervening space and cuffed the Section Leader, the heel of Moss’ palm connecting to the Section Leader’s temple. He dropped like a stone.

Into the shocked silence, Moss said, “We’re here looking for peace. We need to talk to the adults among you, not the playground bullies.”

The female elf, Briju-chern, moved up to take Moss’ hand. She called out in a powerful voice, “We respectfully refuse your offer of honorable imprisonment. If our diplomatic status is not ratified, we will return to our galaxy and prepare for war.”

A second Chert, less flamboyantly dressed, said, “The Section Leader is a royal, a distant cousin to the emperor. I can ask for his recall so that we can review your request for diplomatic status. However, striking a royal is a capital offense.”

Moss smiled. “Tell the emperor I was disciplining an unruly child – something that should have been done a long time ago.”

“I will include your statement in my report.”

Mudark spoke, “Since the Section Leader was the only dissenting voice, and with the approval of the Chert emperor, yet to be forthcoming, we will defer our discussion.”

He nodded to the guardsmen. They stepped in front of Moss and Briju and herded the station delegation toward the exit. Two of the Chert soldiers helped the now-recovering Anabol to his feet and led him out.

Briju let go of Moss’ hand and muttered, “Not an auspicious beginning.”

“Actually, it went pretty well,” Moss countered. “Did you see the smirks on the soldiers’ faces? Nobody likes a bully.”

“And you let them know we wouldn’t be bullied.”

“More than that, I hope,” Moss smiled.

“That we are only interested in real dialogue.”

“Yes, ma’am. An emperor ought to be savvy enough to get the message.”

“We’ll see, Coyote Moss,” she said as the last of the station crowd left the hangar deck.

The guardsmen maintained a protective perimeter, and Mudark approached.

“You have made an enemy,” he told Moss.

“He already was an enemy,” Moss replied. “It’s why the emperor put him here.”

Commander Nomero and the others gathered around, and Heng said, “While I disagree with the tactics, the outcome may serve us, Mudark.”

“The Chert emperor is a pragmatist and well-versed in the games of power. You dealt with the Section Leader as a recalcitrant child. Probably not something he suspected you would do.”

“Now what?” Quinn asked.

Nomero said, “I would like to continue our talks on an informal basis, and I would like you to include the station personnel.”

“That can be arranged,” Mudark replied. He motioned to the others who were standing by.

The Chert member stepped forward. “How did you know to cuff him?” he asked Moss.

“Seemed the right thing to do.”

“It is how we treat overbearing cubs.”

Pax, sensing the Chert’s ambivalence about what happened, asked him pointedly, “What does it take for you to deal with others in good faith?”

The Chert laughed, which sounded more like a growl. “It’s usually a last resort.”