“A tie,” I announced. “Neither of us has won or lost, but we’ve both shown our strength. I call it a tie.”

  Redgrave mumbled a few curses, but he nodded at last. He looked like he smelled shit—but he also seemed a touch more respectful.

  Chapter 23: The Alien Portal

  Now that we’d finished with the dick-measuring contest he’d insisted on, Redgrave was finally willing to lead us into his holiest of holy sanctuaries at the top of his mountain fortress.

  He strutted ahead, leading the way like a proud peacock. Captain Hansen and I followed, our eyes scanning the strange, angular architecture of the extinct aliens who’d built this place.

  Redgrave gestured to a large set of ornate doors with a flourish. I could tell the ant-aliens hadn’t built this thing. It was either some other group—or Redgrave himself.

  “Inside this crowning chamber is a wondrous device,” he said dramatically, “the true power that once ruled these worlds—and that power is now mine.”

  Captain Hansen raised an eyebrow, her tone skeptical. “And you really think this will keep Earth out of the outer planets?”

  Redgrave smirked. “Oh, I don’t just think so, Captain. I know it. Allow me to show you the warp cannon.”

  He led us through the ornate doors, and we emerged into an enormous chamber. There stood the alien device these guys called a “warp cannon”. It was effectively an interplanetary weapon, and it looked like a big gun or projector on a massive scale.

  The device filled the vast cavern. It dwarfed everything else in the place. The primary hulking cylinder stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The glinting sides of it were covered with intricate alien engravings.

  The base of the weapon was a tangle of massive cables, like jungle vines. Each cable was thick and black. Together, they connected the alien engine of death to unknown power sources.

  Nubs and tips oddly decorated the walls of the cavern.

  Was that how you operated this weapon?

  I figured it must be. Mounted on each panel was a complex array of alien machinery. Some readouts displayed strange alien glyphs—all sorts of strange stuff. I could only guess at the odd twists of physics that this thing exploited to destroy over vast distances.

  “Perhaps the most amazing feature,” Redgrave said, “is how we aim and fire this magnificent weapon. Let me demonstrate.”

  The entire roof of the cavern split apart then. It opened up like a clamshell, splitting in two and sliding away to expose the warp cannon to the skies of Ganymede.

  The moment those big doors began to crack and slide open, Captain Hansen and I scrambled to seal our helmets and our suits—but no one else did. The mutants seemed amused by our concerns.

  One would think exposing the cavern to the surface of the moon would suck out all the oxygen from the chamber we were standing in—but it didn’t. Instead, some kind of field glimmered overhead. I could only surmise it was designed to prevent our vital, life-giving air supply from escaping.

  From this hidden lair, Redgrave could unleash devastation on unsuspecting ships halfway across the Solar System, striking them down with terrifying accuracy and range—nearly five hundred million miles.

  Redgrave proudly showed us his terror weapon. He talked about the terajoules of power it took to operate it, and how long it took to aim.

  I couldn’t absorb it all. All I could do was stare at the monstrous creation. The power it held, the destruction it could unleash—it was unthinkable. Even worse was the idea such knowledge was in the hands of Redgrave and his ruthless followers. This was a weapon unlike any I had ever encountered, and it was changing the balance of power within our Solar System.

  Captain Hansen looked at the weapon, her face betraying the concern she tried to hide. “A powerful tool, certainly. But how do you aim it?”

  Redgrave’s grin widened. “You haven’t guessed that yet, hmm? So much for Earth’s over-hyped myth of technical superiority.”

  “We’re not technicians, Redgrave,” Hansen said.

  “Obviously not. In any case, it’s a line-of-sight weapon, requiring great precision to wield. But in the right hands,” he flexed his cybernetic arm, “it’s unstoppable!”

  Captain Hansen frowned. “We’ve seen its devastating power… but how does it work?”

  “Essentially, it creates a wormhole between two points, instantaneously transporting a small object into the center of a target. As spacecraft are often moving at something like fifty thousand miles per hour, and the object transported is not, it rips through the internals, destroying everything.”

  “Very impressive,” she said, forcing a thin smile. “Let’s hope it will bring peace to our two peoples.”

  His eyes narrowed, the threat hanging in the air as thick as the tension between us. “Yes, peace… Let’s hope.”

  It occurred to me that his concept of “peace” might not match ours, but I figured this wasn’t the time to get into that topic.

  After he was done crowing about his big-dick gun—which was admittedly pretty impressive—he continued the tour.

  Next, he took us downward instead of up. We went from the top of the mountain down to the very bottom—and then continued into the deep, dark roots. There, Redgrave led us to a hidden chamber, and we stepped inside.

  There, right before us, stood a mysterious pyramid portal device, eerily similar to the one we’d encountered on Proxima Centauri b.

  Redgrave eyed the device warily. “This ancient relic is something we avoid. It’s unpredictable, and those who’ve attempted to use it have vanished without a trace. We don’t know its purpose, but we deem it too dangerous to meddle with.”

  Captain Hansen and I exchanged knowing glances, recalling our previous experience with such a portal. We knew how it worked, but neither of us dared to reveal our knowledge in Redgrave’s presence.

  I clenched my fists, itching to explore the portal’s mysteries further, but I forced myself to remain silent.

  Redgrave, oblivious to our silent exchange, continued. “You see, Captain, we don’t need to understand everything about these ancient aliens to harness their power. We know enough to keep the likes of Earth at bay. In time, we will conquer this mystery as well.”

  Captain Hansen feigned ignorance. “Indeed, Redgrave. You’ve certainly discovered a wonderful device, here. I’m impressed. Do you mind if I take a look inside?”

  Redgrave, for perhaps the first time since I’d laid eyes on him, looked doubtful. “If you must—but I wouldn’t touch anything in there if I were you.”

  “We’ll be careful.” So saying, she stepped forward, moving closer to the pyramid than any of the mutants dared to. I followed her and stood at her side.

  The alien structure loomed above us. Its geometric form cast an imposing shadow on the ground. The entrance at the base beckoned us, a void of darkness that seemed to swallow all light.

  We stepped closer still, and we entered the triangular mouth at the base. I could sense the age and power of the ancient architecture. Daring to walk inside, we knew for sure what it was.

  “Captain,” I said quietly. “This is identical to the structure we found on Proxima b.”

  “Yes, I recognized it,” she whispered back. “Do you think we could use it to escape Redgrave—if we had to?”

  Suddenly, I understood why she was so dead-set on coming into this place. She was looking for a way out of Redgrave’s grasp. If we simply flew Borag off into space again—he’d probably blow us out of the sky.

  “I don’t think so,” I said, shaking my head. “If it’s like the first one I encountered, it’s an interdimensional gateway that connects to the past. The other one we saw was a connection point to a distant star system. I don’t see how either of those destinations could serve us as an escape route.”

  She nodded her head, but she seemed disappointed.

  The interior of the temple was hollow. Every footstep bounced off the walls, creating a distinctive echo. We walked to the nearest rune-covered wall and examined it.

  Intricate carvings covered every inch of the interior. They were all squiggles and triangles to me, but I figured they probably told the secret tricks to bending space and time.

  As we explored the place, I was careful not to touch anything. The ancient mechanisms that powered it were unfathomable. I had no desire to accidentally trigger a journey to an unknown time or place. I kept my hands to myself.

  “Well,” Captain Hansen said at last, “at least we know more about it than Redgrave does. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  We emerged and faced Redgrave outside a moment later. Captain Hansen faked a wintery smile.

  “I must thank you for your hospitality,” she said. “We’ve seen so much, and it’s all very impressive. We’ll be returning to the Borag now, and then we’ll set course for Mars. We’ll relay the nature of your proposal to Earth for their consideration.”

  Redgrave smirked, his eyes glinting with secret knowledge. “You’re free to return to your ship, Captain—but I’m afraid you won’t be leaving Ganymede anytime soon. The warp cannon must stay on alert, programmed to shoot down any unauthorized vessel it detects, until an arrangement has been agreed to. There’s no point in allowing you to report home on its capacities until I’ve come to an agreement with your masters.”

  Captain Hansen’s face transformed into stone. She betrayed no fear or anger. She simply stared at Redgrave. “You’re holding us hostage, then?”

  “A rude term…”

  “But accurate?”

  Redgrave spread his spidery metal hands. “It’s unfortunate, but at this point, you’re nothing but enemy spies to me. Until Earth submits to my demands, I can’t have you aiding the next attempt to attack my base. I would appreciate it, however, if you could transmit pleas to Mars. Tell them of your plight. Perhaps they will submit to my demands for peace.”

  Captain Hansen’s mouth formed a tiny pink spot. I could tell she was pissed. “Very well. But know that we don’t plan to be your guests here indefinitely.”

  “Oh, I’m well aware, Captain,” Redgrave replied. “But for now, you’ll have to make the best of it.”

  As we turned to leave, I could sense the anger simmering beneath the Captain’s calm exterior. The knowledge that we were, for the time being, at Redgrave’s mercy was a bitter pill to swallow. But she had faced worse, and I knew she wouldn’t let this setback break her spirit.

  The situation was now much more clear. Redgrave wanted to cut a deal—but we were pawns, not really emissaries. We were one more ship caught in his web. One more reason for Mars and Earth to agree to his terms. As an added bonus, we could provide eyewitness testimony to his power. The whole thing had been a setup from the start.

  We walked in silence during the long trip back to Borag. I could tell her mind was seething with escape plans—and possibly vengeance.

  My eye was constantly attracted upward. The sky was a wild scene above us. From the surface of Ganymede, the horizons were painted in shades of indigo and violet. Directly above, a black expanse was dotted with countless stars.

  The most awe-inspiring sight, however, had to be old Jupiter itself. The biggest planet any human had ever laid eyes upon, it loomed large and majestic in the sky. Its swirling, multicolored cloud bands looped like belts around the world. They were orange, red, brown, and white. The whole thing was like an abstract painting come to life.

  “We’ve seen some wild shit out here, Starn,” the captain said suddenly. “But I don’t think we’re going to live to brag about it back home. If only Earth-Gov hadn’t tried to sneak those ships in with us—I think Redgrave would have been vastly more trusting if they hadn’t tried that stunt.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. Redgrave was a giant asshole. He was scheming just as hard as Earth was. What mattered was who won in the end—and what happened to us, as we were caught up in the middle of it all.

  “What should we do, Captain? Strike a private deal with Redgrave? Sabotage the warp cannon? Warn Earth privately? Try to escape?”

  Captain Hansen fumed. “I don’t know... Every option is risky.”

  I didn’t like her lack of confidence. I was sure that it indicated she trusted me—but it felt better to believe your commander had an excellent plan in her head. I got the feeling, walking out here over alien rocks, that she was winging it on Ganymede.

  We kept walking, lost in our thoughts, until I felt I had to offer up one idea churning inside my skull.

  “Maybe we don’t need to choose just one path,” I said. “What if we can find a way to use that portal—or to manipulate Redgrave’s own technology against him?”

  Captain Hansen looked at me, her eyes narrowing in consideration. “An interesting thought, Starn. But if we screw up, we’re all dead. We’ll have to watch and wait, gathering as much intel as we can. When the time is right, we’ll make our move—whatever that may be.”

  On the final leg of the journey across the barren surface of Ganymede, I thought about the invisible storm of radiation that was constantly bombarding us. Even though our view of Jupiter was nothing short of breathtaking, it came at a hefty price: being exposed to the planet’s intense radiation belts.

  Without the protection of our advanced spacesuits, we would have already been fried. The amount of radiation we were being exposed to every minute was several times higher than what humans could safely endure.

  Fortunately, spacesuits were designed for such things. The outermost layer of my suit was made of a lightweight, durable material that provided protection against micrometeoroids and temperature extremes. Beneath that, a layer of specialized, radiation-resistant fabric absorbed and scattered the high-energy particles that Jupiter’s magnetic field spewed our way.

  Our suits also featured an inner layer with a built-in cooling and heating system. The AI constantly adjusted the temperature controls to maintain a comfortable experience inside, despite Ganymede’s harsh conditions.

  I was pretty damned happy to know we’d worked out technology for such problems long ago. That’s the only reason we could explore such a hostile environment without immediate harm. But although I knew our suits provided a high level of protection, I was all too aware that our time on Ganymede’s surface had to be limited. The radiation exposure, even with our advanced suits, was a constant threat, and we couldn’t afford to take any unnecessary risks.

  As we approached the Borag, Commander Kaine stepped forward with relief on his face. “Captain, it’s good to see you made it back in one piece,” he said. His voice was tight but welcoming.

  Captain Hansen gave him a brief nod. “Not all our news is good to hear, Kaine. We’ve got a lot to discuss.” She gestured for the two of us to follow her to a more private spot. We stopped beneath the looming shadow of the Borag, with the massive figure of Jupiter dominating the sky above us.

  Kaine took a deep breath, staring up at the gas giant. “It’s lovely, isn’t it? Hard to believe something so deadly lurks behind that beauty. No wonder they always thought Jupiter was a wrathful god.”

  Hansen nodded, but she wasn’t really listening. “We’ve got to figure out our next move. Redgrave has us grounded with that warp cannon of his. It’s a powerful weapon, one that Earth needs to be made aware of.”

  “I think they already know about it,” Kaine said.

  “Yes, yes… but they don’t know Redgrave is willing to bargain.”

  “If we tell them what he wants—fifty percent of everything, was that it?” Kaine made a pffing noise with his lips. “They’re never going to go for that. Maybe we should try to sabotage the cannon or something—then run for it.”

  Captain Hansen frowned, deep in thought. “We need to be cautious. We don’t want to provoke Redgrave into using that weapon against Earth or our own ship. We need to find a way to deal with him that minimizes the risks. Starn, tell him about the pyramid thing.”

  I described the alien portal—or at least, that’s what I thought it was. Kaine listened closely. He’d seen more of such technological wonders back at the Proxima Centauri system than the captain had. She’d naturally stayed on the bridge of her ship most of the time.

  “You’re sure it’s the same thing? The same kind of tech?”

  I spread my hands helplessly. “It looks the same. But for all I know, it makes coffee. We haven’t tested it or anything.”

  “Right, right…”

  The captain spoke up again as our conversation faded away into indecision. “If we’re going to do something drastic,” she said, “we’ll have to make our move soon. We can’t stay on Ganymede indefinitely.”

  Captain Hansen marched up the ramp then and entered her ship. Her mood and mine immediately improved. It was good to be home, such as it was.

  As per my orders, I escorted her back to her quarters—but we didn’t make it that far.

  “Captain?”

  It was Ensign Freya Carter. She looked worried, rather than jealous, to see me escorting Hansen. She didn’t seem to notice me at all, in fact.

  “What is it, Ensign? Can it wait? I could use a quick shower and a cup of coffee.”

  Freya handed her a slip of computer paper. Figures, letters, and diagrams glowed on its flimsy surface.

  Captain Hansen’s eye ran over it quickly. She waved it at Freya. “Are you sure about this? Are the sensors accurate?”

  “As far as we can tell, yes.”

  The two women exchanged such an intense set of stares I felt myself becoming alarmed again. We’d only just gotten back aboard—what fresh disaster had befallen in our absence?

  “I’d ask you why you didn’t radio this information to me while I was wasting time taking the nickel tour inside Redgrave’s mountain—but I already know the answer.”

  “It was too sensitive,” Freya agreed. “I couldn’t risk transmitting something like this.”

  “Right,” Hansen said, reading the computer paper over again. “If he can see our stealthed vessels, for God’s sake, he might be able to hack our comms as well. You did the right thing. Get me some coffee, will you?”