don’t always
apply.”
“It sounds so
unbelievable,” said Sean, hoping that it was all just fiction. “Time travel?
Is it even possible?”
The Emperor knew that
many of the species that had occupied this region when the humans showed up
certainly believed it was possible. All had their stories of the Ancients, the
technologically superior beings that had ruled this space and bootstrapped so
many other species out of their stone ages. It had been said that they had
experimented with wormholes, then with time travel, going back into the past to
right the wrongs other beings had suffered. With disastrous results. There
were eighty-three confirmed nebula in the region that had been formed by stars
too small to go supernova blowing up anyway. There were many theories about
that phenomena, including mystic interpretations that the Universe would not
tolerate a paradox and had struck back, to the more scientific explanation of
space compression waves causing a spike in fusion. And when the humans had
started building the Donut, over a hundred years ago, many of the
governments in the region had issued dire warning that the Ancients had once
built such a station, and it had destroyed them.
“We have nothing on
record to suggest that it’s possible, or impossible for that matter, your
Majesty. At the moment I would just have to say that we don’t know.”
“Well, at least they
don’t have any wormholes to experiment with,” said Sean, waiting for the
agreement from his Spy Master. None was coming, and he felt hollow in the pit
of his stomach. “They don’t have any, do they?”
“Well, your Majesty, I,
er, have to admit that we are missing four wormhole pairs.”
“And how in the hell did
that happen, Admiral?” shouted Sean, his temper spiking.
“It happened before I was
given my current position, your Majesty,” stammered the woman. She breathed
out a sigh, obviously calming herself. “No excuses. I did not realize they
were missing until I ordered a complete scan of the records. Someone had
appropriated the four under a shipping order that specified a Fleet
experimental station, for top secret testing. Those wormholes never made it
there, though information was placed in the system indicating that they had.”
“Just wonderful,” growled
Sean, jumping up from his seat, the cat on his lap jumping off at the last
moment, its hind claws digging in and wounding the tops of his thighs. He
glared at the cat for a moment, which showed good judgement by running out of
the room. “So, parties unknown have four of our wormholes. And from what we
can gather, wormholes are needed for time travel. But how in the hell would
they use them to go back in time?”
“I have no idea, your
Majesty. There are some hints in the research literature, but nothing
definite.”
“Hold on, Ekaterina,”
said Sean in his best attempt of the moment at a calm voice. He sat back in
his chair and sent an order over his implant into the com system. It took a
minute or so for the person at the end of that request to answer, time in which
he hoped his intelligence director was sweating. I really can’t blame her
for something Naval Intelligence should have been on, and before her watch.
Someone else needs to be crucified for this, and at least this will make her
and the people she drags over the coals more alert in the future.
“You Majesty,” said a
voice over the com, as a second holo opened in the air over his desk, showing
the face of Lucille Yu. The woman was obviously just out of bed, fatigue in
her eyes.
“Sorry to get you up,
Lucille. But we have a bit of a problem here. Admiral Sergiov is also on the
com, and I’ll let her explain the problem.”
Sergiov rushed the story,
hurriedly filling in details as she went. Yu’s face went from disbelief to
horror during the monologue.
“Is it possible, Director
Yu?” asked Sergiov, her tone hopeful that she would