The Universe Within: Amaranthe, #22

PART I:

THE PHYSICIST

1

In a quiet region of space three parsecs from the closest star, a crack in the fabric of the cosmos bolted across the firmament like a lightning strike breaking free of a thundercloud.

At barely a nanometer wide, the crack itself was invisible to the naked eye, the only visual evidence of its existence a faint coral haze spilling out from it into the surrounding void. But Alex Solovy Marano looked upon such wonders with better eyes.

A spectral cacophony concentrated into a sliver of a filament as bands of radiation blinding in their intensity elbowed against one another, fighting to escape through the crack.

What can you make of the EM data, Valkyrie? Alex asked.

Her Artificial companion replied over the ship’s speakers while manifesting a series of charts above the data center table. ‘The bulk of the radiation is a close match for emissions from a typical K5V orange dwarf star. However, I am also detecting numerous narrowband radio signals consistent with a technological source.’

"Technological? Are you saying there’s intelligent life on the other side of this manifold tear?"

‘I am saying ‘consistent with.’ ’

Alex leaned in closer to inspect the data for herself…and had to agree. The scan showed an abundance of tight, narrow-frequency microwave signals layered across the stellar emissions.

Caleb Marano sidled up behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder to get a peek as well. None of those readings sound like Dzhvar to me.

No, though squeezing everything through a nanometer-wide slit could be obscuring any dimensional perturbations.

They’d been hunting the Dzhvar for three years now, but the pandimensional life forms were notorious for being maddeningly elusive—right up until they exploded into physical space to devour everything in their path. Planets, stars, the manifold itself. And, of course, people.

Though ostensibly annihilated by humanity’s allies, the Anadens, in a galactic war a million years ago, Alex had it on good authority that the Dzhvar would return to resume their universe-eating ways, sooner rather than later. And because neither she nor Caleb were the type to sit around twiddling their thumbs while waiting for doom to descend upon them, they searched the cosmos for signs of the ancient enemy’s return. Thus far, they hadn’t found so much as an omen or portent.

Their colleague, Mesme, had alerted them several days ago to the sudden eruption of strange fissures in this region of space. As ethereal beings who treated the cosmic manifold as their playground, Mesme and its fellow Katasketousya sensed disruptions in the fabric of space in a way the most advanced sensors could never hope to match. So she and Caleb had raced here in the hope of catching one of the fissures in action.

And catch one they had…but instead of Dzhvar gobbling up the environs, had they discovered something else entirely?

Even if the Dzhvar aren’t present here now, it doesn’t mean they didn’t cause this most unusual tear in space on their way through. Alex’s shoulders lifted as the thrill of the chase revved up. And if they did, and there are living beings trapped on the other side of it, well….

Let me guess: All the more reason to go investigate? She could feel her husband smirking as he moved to one of the storage cabinets, grabbed a bag, and began collecting their exploration gear.

We’d be remiss if we didn’t. You know, when Mesme told me about the fissures, it mentioned a humanoid species used to reside in this general region of space. They called themselves ‘Elakri.’ 

Used to?

They disappeared over nine thousand years ago. Their entire stellar system vanished. Mesme thought the location was probably a coincidence, but… she gestured to the charts above the data center table …something technological is on the other side.

‘I said ‘consistent with.’ ’

Come on, Valkyrie. When was the last time you were wrong? She leaned against the edge of the table and contemplated the cabin. "I think we can use the Dimensional Rifter to pry the crack open wide enough for the Siyane to slip inside."

‘I agree,’ Valkyrie replied. ‘But we should hurry. The two earlier fissures that occurred in this region of space only lasted between fourteen and eighteen minutes before healing.’

Which is why I’m confident you’re already running the necessary calculations to ensure we don’t miss our window or get squished during traversal. So you’re not going to like this next part—

‘No!’ Valkyrie exclaimed. ‘Out of the question. You will not leave me behind.’

The Artificial knew what Alex had been about to say, because Valkyrie had read her mind. Lived in her mind, as well as in the circuitry of the ship and a half dozen other locations scattered around Concord space. As a merged Prevo pair, they’d enjoyed a connected existence for the last twenty years. Separate and independent when it suited them, but also united as one.

Nonetheless, Alex continued speaking aloud for Caleb’s benefit. It’s only so you can rescue us if the need arises.

‘And how do you expect me to do that? You’re taking the Siyane with you.’

Caleb glanced back at her, eyebrow raised, as if to suggest he was wondering much the same thing.

If we haven’t returned to normal space in one week, borrow a ship equipped with a Caeles Prism and a Dimensional Rifter and wait for another tear to materialize. Use the Rifter to hold the tear open the way we’re about to, instantiate a wormhole to the location you’ll then be able to read from our trackers, and whisk us away to safety.

‘And what if this is the last time a tear manifests?’ Valkyrie challenged.

You’ll possess all the data we’re collecting on the phenomenon. You and Mesme will figure out a way to force one to open.

‘One that accesses the same star we’re currently recording emissions from?’

Alex shrugged gamely. Probably? I have faith in you.

‘I don’t care for it,’ Valkyrie protested. ‘This is dangerous.’

Across the cabin, Caleb burst out laughing.

‘I mean this is dangerous even for the two of you.’

It was endearing how Valkyrie worried. Granted, the Artificial was correct; these momentary tears had appeared out of nowhere a month ago, and there was no guarantee the phenomenon would continue. Also, they had no idea what waited for them beyond the fissure.

Maybe a little bit, Alex conceded. But you can’t expect us not to go see what’s on the other side.

‘I don’t. I want to see it as well.’

When we get back, you can review the entire experience as if you lived it alongside me.

‘Almost as if.’ Valkyrie sounded positively morose. ‘Fine. One week.’

If we’re not out by then, come fetch us. With that, Alex hurried downstairs to grab her always-packed overnight bag—best to have it close by, just in case—then returned to settle into her cockpit chair.

By the time she sat down, Valkyrie had modified the Dimensional Rifter’s operation to nudge open the tear a bit. As it did so, the ship’s sensors would gather reams of data on the nature of the fissure and the space it revealed, which Valkyrie would also be recording until the nanosecond she disconnected her consciousness from the Siyane.

Caleb slid into the seat beside her. Are we ready?

She flashed him a sideways grin as she took manual control of the ship. Always.

2

A half-consumed sandwich dropped onto the edge of its plate and teetered precariously for a beat before succumbing to gravity, scattering an assortment of luttuga, sliced toma and seasoned carne across the marble floor.

The sandwich’s unfortunate demise transpired in concert with Laurent Kovalne leaping up out of his chair in a fit of shock. This sent the chair careening across the room until it bounced off the opposite wall, ricocheted and skidded to a stop near the overturned panite. His knee banged into the underside of the polished glass desk; he didn’t notice the jolt of pain, though, nor how his kovfé mug wobbled in a daring feat of balance before settling, miraculously still upright.

Laurent pressed his fingertips onto the desk and leaned forward—then reversed course and stepped away as he flung new readouts out of the center screen to populate the diamond grid surrounding it. Next, he blackened the windows that overlooked the Trenae District outside. Finally he turned off the lights, until he was left with only darkness and the impossibility displayed in front of him.

Anomaly 3181622C—the third such anomaly he’d detected in the last month—had been puttering along, emitting the same faint but distressing radiation as the first two occurrences, when abruptly every emission had increased in intensity…his focus darted to the leftmost screen. Bonta bae. Over a thousandfold.

Great Guardian, was the world about to come to an end? The allegedly eternal universe preparing to rip apart into atoms, then fundamental particles, then quarks, until no iota of their existence remained?

The emissions shifted and lost precision, as if partially obscured. But almost as soon as the shift occurred, it was gone again, and in its absence the emissions shrank back to their initial strength. The world continued to exist.

He held his breath, refusing to blink lest he miss the next surprise.

But no further surprises appeared. Anomaly 3181622C lasted for another 1.8 minutes, generating nothing anomalous but its existence, before fading away.

Laurent reached for his kovfé and absently lifted the mug to his lips, but neglected to take a sip as he stood there stubbornly waiting for the arrival of a further revelation.

When nothing else happened after five minutes, he sighed and sat down—

And landed hard on the floor, spilling the kovfé down his silk shirt and soaking the crotch of his pants. Malede, it was hot! His right hand rested in something mushy…he lifted it up to discover the smushed remains of his sandwich.

He peered around and spotted his chair sitting halfway across the office.

Brilliant show, Laurent. Truly. He climbed to his feet, opened the door to his office and called for a cleaning bot, then rolled his chair back to the desk and tried sitting again, this time with greater success.

No longer hungry—and lacking a sandwich in any event—he pushed the empty plate aside and ran standard analytics on the data he’d collected. Before and after the massive expansion in intensity, the emission profile was almost identical to that of the prior two anomalies. But for those few seconds, everything had gone haywire.

He needed better instruments stationed out there beyond Giarnum, needed more sensitive hardware that could detect and measure manifold perturbations to a far more precise level. But in truth, he was lucky to have any instruments operating at all.

His office offered a lovely view of the Trenae District of downtown Ventise, because all corporate and governmental offices offered lovely views, but it was the equivalent of a utility storage closet. Extraplanetary physics was not exactly the most fashionable or celebrated line of study, primarily due to the fact there was nothing of note to study.

Extraplanetary space was, once one got past the Elakrin atmosphere, all but void. Nothing but scattered particles of gas and dust and the solar wind, until it petered out at the edge of the universe; ‘The End,’ per Khesa Prutet doctrine.

Except the solar wind didn’t peter out—it vanished in a blink of distance. It was this phenomenon that had first piqued Laurent’s interest in extraplanetary physics back in his courses. The ‘Universe Overview’ program had noted this fact about the solar wind in a dry list of other facts about the rules of the cosmos, then continued on to the next topic. Laurent had paused the program and spent half an hour doing side research, trying to understand the proffered scientific explanation, during which he tumbled into a hole of increasingly conspiratorial conjecture on why certain laws of physics broke down at The End.

He hadn’t bought into the conspiracy nonsense, but he had been intensely curious about what struck him as a thoroughly unsatisfactory explanation. This curiosity had eventually led to him becoming one of only three living extraplanetary physicists. Word was he would soon be one of two, as Katia Santon had lost her funding and was searching for a more respectable line of work.

But this, this might change everything.

He’d kept the discovery of the anomalies to himself up until now, mostly because they weren’t interesting enough (to anyone but him) to share with a wider audience. But that flare! What if it meant the anomalies were poised to grow significantly larger? What would be the impact of such an escalation? His somewhat panicked musing in the heat of the moment about the universe disintegrating might not prove to be so hysterical after all. Obviously, to suggest the universe was not eternal was blasphemy, but religious edicts had no place in science.

Laurent pored through the data analysis two additional times, then contacted his boss.

Laurent,

I’m out of town at my niece’s arrival gala, but I glanced over your report, and I agree, your findings are concerning. Still, the readings are more likely the result of a faulty sensor on one of the deep space monitors than a fundamental flaw in the manifold, right?

I was able to schedule you an appointment with a bureaucrat at the Department of Extraplanetary Affairs, since the DEA will have to authorize any mission to inspect or replace the equipment. The details are attached.

Oh, and Laurent? When you get to the meeting, keep it simple. This government functionary isn’t a scientist. And for the love of the Guardian, keep your enthusiasm under control, lest you frighten the poor man.

—Alcide

Laurent chuckled to himself as he read the message. His boss knew him rather too well. He’d once been not so politely asked to leave a cocktail party after gesturing excitedly throughout the spotlight violin performance while speaking to a captive business owner’s wife. She’d made the mistake of inquiring about the scientific nature of The End. He’d happily acceded to the ‘request’ to leave, because unlike virtually every other person in existence, he personally found parties, fetes, galas and most of the other social gatherings that were a near-constant feature of proper culture to be frivolous affairs. Dreadfully boring, no matter how much originality the symphonics displayed.

He wasn’t ashamed of his passion for his work, even if the rest of society didn’t share it.

But discovering the cause of these anomalies was more important than convincing a government bureaucrat that the interaction of subatomic particles as they approached the cosmic edge was as exquisite as the Century Honored Visual. So he spent the next half hour preparing a list of stupid-simple bullet points summarizing the phenomenon and why discovering the truth about it mattered.

Marginally satisfied with the presentation, he left his office to head for High Square.

Every government building was a lavish architectural celebration of Elakri artistic genius, but the Department of Extraplanetary Affairs headquarters was less celebratory than most. Its bronze filigree accents hadn’t been refreshed in at least a decade, the fresh flowers lining the sidewalk appeared lackluster in their enthusiasm for the sun’s rays, and a few telltale cracks marred the carnation-pink marble entryway.

It made sense, though. Elakrin was the beating heart of the universe; by definition, everything existing beyond its atmosphere was merely an accessory. The exotic resorts on Giarnum enjoyed the bounty of eighty percent of the DEA budget, and most of the remaining funds went to zero-g mining and manufacturing operations.

The Cosmic Sciences Division came in dead last at 0.5 percent of the budget. And of that, the Space Physics Institute where Laurent worked received the crumbs left over after a few decimal places. A short list of wealthy donors indulged the institute with enough grants to pay the salaries for Alcide, Laurent and a half dozen other employees, most of whom did the practical work of tracking the interaction of solar dynamics with Elakrin’s atmosphere.

Laurent checked in for his appointment, then followed the overlay as it directed him to an upper level and down a winding hallway decorated in frescos of Giarnum and Phaesta, their moons and the sun, but most of all, of the Guardian.

He signaled his presence at the office door, and after a few seconds, it slid open.

Come in, please. The speaker was a genteel young man sporting mild russet hair that complemented coral irises bleeding to florid. He wore a black velvet longcoat over beige silk pants. Emblazoned on the coat’s lapel was a familiar crimson-and-gold starburst emblem.

Laurent hesitated in the doorway. I’m sorry, I think the overlay directed me to the wrong place. My appointment is with Mr. Khaleen.

Unfortunately, Mr. Khaleen was called away on urgent business. I’m Insaf Devran. Please, have a seat.

I don’t see how the KP can be of any help—or have any interest—in the matter I’ve come to discuss.

The man’s expression remained as smooth as the silk weaving his pants, but his voice grew a touch icy. "The Khesa Prutet deserves the respect of the use of its full name, Dr. Kovalne. And on the contrary, we share an appreciation of the sciences, and of every atom comprising our Guardian-gifted universe. As such, we are happy to consult with Extraplanetary Affairs on a variety of topics. Now, sit."

Laurent found he had eased into the chair opposite the desk without intending to do so.

Thank you. I reviewed the note your employer sent along. You believe you’ve identified a problem involving The End?

Hopefully not a problem, but definitely an anomaly. A series of them, three so far, though the most recent one was far more notable than the earlier events. He splashed up his bullet points and proceeded to explain his findings.

Devran pressed his fingertips together in a thoughtful pose. How very interesting. What do you believe is causing these anomalies?

It could be malfunctioning equipment. I was never happy with the quality of the components used in constructing the deep space monitors, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re already deteriorating. Still, if this were a malfunction, I’d expect to see unpredictable results. These anomalies have been perfectly consistent—

"Oh, but you indicated the most recent event behaved quite inconsistently."

No, I said it grew exponentially in size.

Yet that is inconsistent with the previous events.

Laurent grumbled in frustration. Why was he sitting here arguing semantics with a KP priest? This was physics, not spirituality! I’m concerned the cosmic edge—

The End.

"Of course. I’m concerned The End is experiencing a…flaw. A shift in the way the laws of physics behave in the region, or perhaps a…breakdown of some kind."

The Guardian is not flawed, Dr. Kovalne.

Laurent managed to catch himself before he uttered his initial response and found himself stripped of a job and a home and labeled scappatu. I didn’t mean to imply they were. Thus, my request is for a mission to visit the deep space monitors and, if necessary, conduct repairs. And also get a bird’s-eye view of the anomalies in action, the better to investigate more tantalizing possibilities.

I see. If the equipment is failing, this should obviously be remedied. Flights are in high demand—or so I’m told—but I’ll ensure your request is given all due attention. Devran stood and extended a hand, palm turned halfway. I appreciate you coming in today.

Laurent stumbled up out of the chair, surprised at the abruptness of the dismissal. When will I hear if the mission has been approved? I’d hate to spend additional time chasing these anomalies if I’m receiving bad data.

It will be up to Mr. Khaleen, but I expect you’ll hear in a few days.

Fine. Good. With some reluctance, he placed his palm against the man’s extended one. A quick tap, then he spun and exited the office.

A dozen curses raced through Laurent’s mind as he stormed down the hallway and out of the building. He was used to his work being relegated to third-class status, to being the final clause in an afterthought appended to all the pageantry of Elakrin life. But to be patronized so by a KP priest? ‘Appreciation of the sciences’ his ass; the man wouldn’t know a quark from a lepton!

If the manifold really was collapsing and all life was exterminated because he’d been given the brush off, the blame’s first stop would be at the skeletal feet of Insaf Devran.

3

I feel like I’m trapped in a shoulder-width cave deep underground. I’ve never been especially claustrophobic, but right now I kind of want to hyperventilate.

Beside her, Caleb’s knuckles blanched white atop the armrests of his cockpit chair. You’re not the only one.

Alex’s gaze darted to him. Akeso?

What piece of it I brought with me is still present, but cut off from the whole. Diminished, and a little panicked for it.

Are you all right? Physically?

He managed a clipped nod and stood. Yeah. I’m going to take a walk and try to soothe some nerves. Mine and Akeso’s. See what you can learn about this place now that we’re on the other side.

Alex’s eyes followed him into the cabin until she was sure he was steady on his feet. Then she returned her gaze, but not quite her attention, to the readings splashed across the HUD.

Her husband was special in many ways, but objectively the most notable way was how he shared mind- and body-space with a planetary intelligence. Eighteen years ago, the planet they’d named ‘Akeso’ had saved his life by using its regenerative abilities to re-infuse his body with life force after he’d drained it dry saving humanity from annihilation. Ever since then, they’d been as one in aspects that were both similar to and wildly different from the bond she shared with Valkyrie.

Akeso’s presence within Caleb had proved capable of reaching across any cosmic distance and the most tenacious of quantum blocks, but it appeared the tear in the manifold they’d traversed was far more than a simple dimensional fold.

The fissure had sealed itself less than two minutes after they’d crossed it, and now they found themselves in a completely enclosed space. On an initial analysis, the characteristics of the space matched normal space exactly. Not only were the three physical dimensions present and acting properly, but all the hidden quantum dimensions existed here as well. She could access sidespace without difficulty—but solely in the confines of this pocket. Normally, sidespace allowed her to fling her consciousness to any defined point in the universe, but here she promptly banged up against an impenetrable wall.

The wall bounded a spatial bubble 2.6 AU in diameter, or less than the distance from the sun to Mars. Inside the bubble was a K5V orange dwarf star, three planets with two detectable moons, and a tiny planetoid orbiting on the fringes of the star. Possibly some smaller objects as well, but picking them up was going to require a lengthy and intensive scan.

Alex knew more about the spacetime manifold, the numerous dimensions comprising it, and the prickly primordial entities that frolicked upon it than anyone alive or dead (arguably excluding Mesme), and she couldn’t begin to guess how this bubble existed.

The Katasketousya were capable of creating pocket universes, but Mesme insisted that without a portal to hold the door open, so to speak, any such constructed universe would be utterly and forever inaccessible from Amaranthe. And the Dzhvar, ostensibly their reason for being here, only destroyed the manifold; they did not create perfectly preserved spheres hidden within it.

Unless the bubble analogy was more accurate than she realized, and upon encountering the Dzhvar, the bubble…popped? But if this were the case, the pocket universe would spill into Amaranthe and become part of the larger cosmos.

A tiny and intermittent hole in the bubble’s skin, though, might correspond to the tears. It wasn’t a perfect analogy, but it felt close to the correct one.

Caleb reappeared in the cockpit and leaned over her shoulder. What have you figured out?

She peered up at him in concern. Is everything all right?

He offered a weak grimace. Akeso’s calmed down, I think. It’s so diminished, it hardly has a voice at all. Been a while since things have grown this quiet in my head. On seeing the worry in her expression, he lifted the grimace into a smile. "But I’m not diminished, so let’s go have an adventure. I see there are planets here?"

You’re sure? she asked, reluctant to so easily accept his platitudes. Still, he looked okay.

Absolutely.

Sounded okay, too. She decided to play along for now. Well, good, because the exit closed behind us. Until another tear manifests, I don’t have a ready way for us to get back home.

He tilted his head. Like I said, adventure.

Uh-huh. Um, yes, there are three planets. Only the second one is conducive to supporting a main spectrum species, though there’s a faint technological signature coming from the third one. The second one, however, is singing so loudly that the signals are bouncing off the walls of this little pocket universe. I won’t know specifics until we get closer, but I’d guess they’re equivalent to twenty-second or early twenty-third century humanity. Which is strange.

How so?

I’d thought perhaps this was the same species that disappeared from the region of space where the tears are occurring, but the details don’t match up. Mesme said as of ten thousand years ago, they were as advanced as the Anadens in most respects.

Maybe Mesme lied.

"Priyazn…."

He held his hands up in surrender. "Forget I said anything. Progress does not always advance in a straight line. What if whatever event cast them into this snow globe universe set them back technologically as well?

I say we dial up the stealth meter, then investigate the second planet. Let’s also turn on the spigots and start loading up the data banks with their transmissions, so the translators and Shrouds have something to work with. We should plan to check out the view from the ground. Since we’re here and all.

4

A brilliant sunset glinted off the iridescent dome of a building down the avenue and transformed it into a dance of flames. The neighborhood basked in waves of warm apricot light, and for a moment everything shone. The semi-holographic floating sidewalks overhead glittered like gemstones. Pedestrians paused their travels to upturn their faces into the warmth, and a silent reverence swept across the landscape.

Then the angle of the sun shifted, the sunlight faded to a pleasant dusk, and normal activity resumed.

Caleb waited for Akeso to comment on the visual spectacle…but he sensed no murmur of notice in his mind. He forced himself to put away the pang of sorrow the absence evoked. Akeso was safe and healthy back home. It was merely that the fragment residing within him now consisted of little more than life-giving cells harboring minimal conscious awareness.

He was himself, and himself alone, in a way he hadn’t been in almost two decades. The sensation was strange, to say the least. His inner monologue would have to be conducted solo, if it was to be with anyone. He told…yep, himself…this was fine; he’d always been quite comfortable with…himself. God, he was already insufferable!

So he forced his focus firmly away from his navel and toward his surroundings. He couldn’t afford to devote much effort to psychoanalyzing the newly peculiar state of his psyche, anyway. He and Alex now walked the streets of a thoroughly alien world, and this required all his attention.

The Shrouds they wore—advanced prototype devices out of Concord Special Projects—presented them as Elakri in every physical detail, from the enormous eyes, minuscule ears and wide faces to the disproportionately long legs and pinched waists. They’d fabbed attire on the Siyane to match the style of clothing ordinary people here wore. A couple of hours of eavesdropping had resulted in a translation algorithm loaded into their eVis that enabled them to both speak and understand the native language.

All of which did relatively little to decrease the danger they found themselves in. They knew virtually nothing of these people’s customs or ways of interacting, nor of their government system or social structure. The body language of a species often took months to learn to mimic, and they had only a scant