Bristol was incensed with Jason’s question. “Well, let me lay out your options for you, Captain … The Lilly’s lost her ability to connect to the interchange … something that is beyond bizarre … The Minian’s communications equipment has been ripped out by the Craing so she also can’t call up the interchange … that means no accessing an interchange wormhole. Added to that, the Minian’s drives were completely torn apart by the Craing and she’ll be powerless for God knows how long … and finally, The Lilly’s power reserves were so completely exhausted battling that colossal fuckwad amount of Craing warships, she’s just barely on life support.”

  Jason looked to see if Ricket or Granger had anything to add to that, but from their compliant expressions, they looked to be pretty much in agreement. Jason returned his gaze to Bristol. “Talk to me like that again and you’ll be spending several weeks in the brig, you understand?”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry. Guess I get a bit overexcited,” Bristol answered sheepishly.

  Chapter 42

  Twenty minutes. That’s how long Granger said he’d need before the Minian as well as The Lilly, which was still secured within her largest hold, could attempt to enter the multiverse. But it was something Bristol earlier mentioned that was nagging at Jason. Why had the interchange ceased communicating with The Lilly … with him? He’d been meaning to speak with the interchange—to work through any problems or issues—to reestablish their relationship. A relationship he felt was strong. The truth was, Jason hadn’t had a spare second to meet with him.

  He used the DeckPort to access Deck 2 and entered The Lilly’s Zoo. He crossed directly over to the Drapple’s habitat. Jason was reminded how the window portal for the Drapple was among the most dramatic and beautiful of all the habitats. There was blue sky above an aquatic, ocean-like expanse, which spanned before him into the distance. Below the waterline was a crystal-clear aqua sea, which was void of any movement—which was typical. Jason tapped on the portal in hopes of attracting the Drapple’s attention.

  In less than a minute he saw him coming. From far out on the horizon, like a dolphin, the Drapple was moving fast: a combination of high-in-the-air jumps, followed by quick dives, melded into fluid swimming motions below the surface of the water. The six-foot-long worm-like Drapple arrived with a flourish: a dramatic backwards flip sent him soaring ten feet into the air, followed by a perfect dive back into the water. Now, swaying and buoyant in the aqua sea, the Drapple waited.

  “Thank you for coming,” Jason said.

  The Drapple turned to face him. His features were calm and he had what looked to be a smile across his small lips. The portal window began to vibrate and, as it had in the past, there were sounds similar to how a radio frequency signal is tuned in—full of static at first and then, over time, becoming stronger and clearer. A strong voice emanated into the Zoo; the interchange was speaking:

  “It is good to see you, Jason.”

  “Thank you for coming. I’ve needed to speak with you for some time now,” Jason said.

  “Yes. I’ve been waiting to hear from you. I have been watching … you are in a most tenuous situation,” the Drapple said, now becoming serious. “I believe I know why you are here and what you have to ask me.”

  “Then perhaps you can tell me why the interchange no longer communicates with my ship? Have we—have I—done something to offend you?”

  “These are dark times for your kind, Jason. For many in this small corner of the universe, on this particular plane of existence, it seems an inevitable end is close at hand. I am sorry. I have pondered this situation much in recent times … but my direct involvement, to help you, typically would go against my purview … one which dictates I let nature take its natural course.”

  “So you’ve turned your back on us? On a whole sector of living beings?”

  “On the contrary, I have already gone well beyond my purview. Yes, your ship has lost its ability to contact the interchange. But it is only temporary, only for as long as you remain close to the Craing worlds. It is my decision whom to allow the gift of uninhibited travel across the universe. I will not assist the Craing on their quest to annihilate billions. This area of space, what you call Craing space, does not, and will not, allow for any interchange wormhole travel. This denial has been done for you, and for others. Find your way out of this dismal place, Jason … if you can. I hope you do, so that once again you can regain the gift of the interchange with unrestricted wormhole travel.”

  * * *

  By the time Jason returned to the Minian’s bridge, Granger was ready to bring the Craing power bales online and attempt initialization of the ship’s Zip Farm. Only Jason, Granger, Ricket, and Bristol remained on board; everyone else was moved back into The Lilly. Not only were multiple damaged sections of the Minian open to space, the ship was unstable. With the onboard gravity generators barely working, moving about any more than necessary was dangerous.

  Jason was watching the primary display, which was continuously losing sync, flickering on and off. He answered an incoming hail. “Go for Captain. What’s up, XO?”

  “Captain, we have a bit of good news. The Lilly’s power reserves are coming back online. It’ll still be hours before we have access to any more than basic ship functions, but at least things are improving in that regard. But not all the news is good.”

  “I already see them, XO. The bridge here is still functioning, though minimally; we see their heavy cruiser approaching from our stern. We’ll need what power we get from the power bales to engage the Zip Farm. Have Billy assemble dedicated teams at each of the breached hull locations.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Granger turned away from the Zip Farm’s interface console on the bridge and nodded toward Jason.

  “What happens once you flip the switch? What do we do?” Jason asked.

  “I’ve preconfigured our entry into the way station. Best if I simply show you. Time is a factor,” Granger answered, looking up at the now-jumbled display. It was difficult to see, but it appeared the Craing cruiser had come alongside the aft section of the Minian.

  “We’re in your hands, Granger. Let’s get to it.”

  Ricket, already seated at the helm, inputted something on the console and Jason immediately felt the familiar vibration of the ship’s power plant coming back online. Dormant consoles and holo-displays were repowered around the bridge, and the overhead display came back on—its flickering and sync issues apparently resolved. Granger was again busy at the Zip Farm interface console, while Jason’s attention was back on the Craing cruiser, parked by one of the larger, gaping holes in the hull.

  The Zip Farm interface began making mechanical clicking and ratcheting noises. Since Granger was nodding his head appreciatively and smiling, Jason assumed things were working, at least so far, correctly. Something had just happened. Unlike phase-shifting, there was no bright flash nor feelings of momentary disorientation. But two things were evident: the Minian was indeed moving forward, and they were no longer surrounded by thousands of Craing warships. They were approaching an asteroid. Cold and desolate-looking, it was much larger than Jason had originally estimated.

  Granger stepped back several paces to stand at Jason’s side. Both of them watched the overhead display.

  “You do realize that what you’re seeing isn’t actually real, don’t you? That it’s simply a visual representation, offered up by this plane of existence?”

  Jason didn’t answer. The Minian was quickly approaching the asteroid at a far greater speed than, under normal conditions, he knew to be prudent. He watched as other ships, clearly advanced, probably Caldurian, were also inbound and headed for a single opening—like an entrance to a cave on a spectacular scale. No less than ten other vessels entered the asteroid’s open entrance at the same time, with plenty of room for twice that many. As they entered the cavernous space within the asteroid, Jason realized he’d seen the place before—only from a completely different perspective. This was the way station! Jason glanced to his side and saw Granger smiling again, obviously enjoying Jason’s astonishment.

  “We have entered a multiverse membrane that depicts events that occur on a six dimensional landscape, versus your customary three dimensions. We have entered a construct, a representation of a multiverse way station.”

  “I remember. You explained this before … everything here on this plane takes place strictly in the realm of math, so in reality, none of this is really here… something like that?”

  “Something like that,” Granger replied.

  The Minian was making her way across the open void within the asteroid. Hundreds, if not thousands, of distant portal openings filled the distant, curved cavern walls. “How is it determined where we will go? Which portal to enter?”

  “That’s a difficult question to answer. Your frame of reference is not sufficient to understand many abstract concepts … such as multiverse membranes that exist purely as potentialities—still to be conceived in one realm while already existing in another. The closest examples I can give you are DeckPorts. How does a DeckPort know which level to transport you to? Actually, you’ve made this same DeckPort transport an infinite number of times so this reality already exists. The DeckPort knows which level of the ship you want to go to even before you do … or at least before you realize you do. The Zip Farm can be thought of as a means to match potentialities. Where our own reality of Craing space shows thousands of warships all around us, the Zip Farm uses our intention, which is different than want, to call up the closest mathematical match—one having the intended properties and characteristics: a Craing space that is identical in all other ways but is clear of enemy ships. That’s what’s really taking place right now, Jason. All this visual imaging of a way station is really a means for the Zip Farm to capture our intention.”

  Jason continued to stare at Granger, not sure if he understood half of what he was saying. “Whose intention, though? Suppose there are multiple people, and each person intends something different?”

  “Good question. The answer is twofold. Reality is not limited. One, two, or even a million different, combined, intentions have a certain outcome possibility. You’re forgetting what infinity really means.” Granger pointed to the console on their left. “This strange device, one we have replicated onto thousands of Caldurian vessels, yet, truthfully, we hardly understand ourselves, cannot be programed, or have coordinates inputted like you do at the helm here or on the The Lilly. It just doesn’t work that way.”

  Apparently the appropriate intention had been realized, because they were moving toward one particular portal.

  “Let me add one thing, Captain. Perhaps more of a warning. Traveling the multiverse can be compelling. For my own people, the progressive Caldurians, they chose to leave their own plane, your plane of existence, for a completely different one.”

  “Why?”

  “They thought they had found the perfect realm, where there was immortality, lack of pain, no war … no suffering.”

  “And did they find that place?”

  “They thought so at the time. Now, I’m not so sure. Pay attention, Jason. You’ll notice that things here on this plane are quite similar but not identical …

  They made it through the portal and were, presumably, back within Craing space and now traveling within a different plane of existence from their own. Just as Granger promised, there were no other vessels—no heavy or light cruisers, no dreadnaughts anywhere to be seen. If it weren’t for his distant view of the seven Craing worlds, Jason would question where they were.

  “Captain!” Ricket said. “Full power has been restored to the Minian. We also have phase-shift capabilities and everything else is back online and working perfectly.”

  Jason answered an incoming hail. “Captain, The Lilly’s power reserves are at one hundred percent,” Orion announced, sounding more than a little confounded.

  Jason turned to Granger. “I really didn’t expect …”

  “Then it’s a good thing that I did, isn’t it? Remember. Traveling into the multiverse is not the same as phase-shifting. Why would you limit this particular plane to the same conditions as the other? Here, the Craing are a peaceful race of people. There is no war here. There was never a reason for the interchange to restrict wormhole travel.”

  “So we can simply phase-shift back to the Orange Corridor? Simple as that?”

  Granger looked bemused by the question and nodded. Jason sat down in the command chair and stared at the overhead display. Something was different about this place … this realm. Perhaps it was nothing more than his realization that it was not his home.

  “Ricket, shift us to the Orange Corridor.”

  The usual phase-shift experience, one typically involving a bright white flash followed by an unpleasant bit of disorientation, didn’t occur this time.

  Chapter 43

  The phase-shift flash was a warm yellow and, all in all, a far more pleasant experience. Jason’s first reaction was one of concern. They must have inputted the wrong coordinates. He was viewing a spectacular-looking planet, with bright violet oceans, continents with lush green plains, and ridges of mountains so dramatic they made the ones back on Earth look like molehills. In the few seconds since they arrived, several space vessels moved out of the planet’s orbit into space.

  “Incoming hail from the planet, Captain,” Ricket said. “The Allarian space command welcomes us and wants to know if we will be entering orbit.”

  Jason continued to look at the magnificent planet below and felt deep sadness within him rising—full realization of what he was truly seeing. This was what could have been … what should have been, before the Craing embarked on their reign of misery and destruction.

  “Our convoy, the seven U.S. vessels we left here, in Allarian space. They’re not here, are they?”

  Granger replied, “No, Captain. There was no need to send them here … at least, not in this reality’s dimension.”

  “I understand. Fire up that contraption of yours, Granger. Time we got back to our own reality.”

  * * *

  They returned to the asteroid, crossed through the open void, and entered the portal to their own plane of existence. The Minian arrived at the exact spatial coordinates in Allarian space that they’d left mere minutes before, only now a horrific space battle was in progress all around them. The U.S. convoy, all seven of the white, heavy and light cruisers, along with as many Allarian vessels, were going up against a Craing dreadnaught.

  Jason looked over to Granger. “A part of me sees why your people left.”

  “Incoming!” Ricket said, his voice somewhat elevated.

  Jason felt his anger rise up, like a volcano ready to erupt. They’d come so far, beaten insurmountable odds to get to this point. Was it all for nothing? Jason slammed a fist down onto a nearby console, resulting in a fist-shaped impression being left behind. “Damn them … Damn the Craing to hell!” He steadied himself and forced himself to breath. “What do we have for weapons?”

  Ricket stared flatly back at him. “Minian’s back to her previous condition. Still not enough power to charge weapons. The Lilly has recharged some, but not enough—”

  Ricket’s words were cut short by a spectacular explosion in space. Jason realized the quickly dissipating fireball was one of the U.S. convoy ships. His heart stopped in his chest. “Which ship was that?” He held his breath and said a silent prayer that it wasn’t the Cutlass … that he hadn’t just lost his daughter.

  “The Bastille, Captain.”

  Jason was hailed by Orion. “Captain, we’ve been boarded.”

  “How the hell … There’s no one around us … boarded from where?”

  “It must be that cruiser back in Craing space. They entered through the Minian’s breached hull,” Orion said.

  “Who? What are they?”

  “From what I can tell there are about fifty Serapins and twenty of something else. Sloth-like things. All furry … with tusks. I guess a cross between a polar bear and a walrus.”

  “I take it Billy is dispatching teams?”

  “We’re all suited up, Cap. I’m leaving the bridge now.”

  “Keep me up to date.”

  Jason took one more glance at the mile-long Craing dreadnaught, firing continuous barrages of missiles and plasma fire. “They’re not taking another ship. Not if I can help it,” he said aloud. “Ricket, hail each of our fighter pilots and tell them to be ready to kick ass in two minutes.” Jason activated his battle suit and phase-shifted into the Minian’s flight deck.

  A massive space, the Minian’s flight deck was hundreds of yards across. Fifteen blue space fighters, their engines revving up, occupied the center of the deck.

  Grimes, dressed in a battle suit, met him halfway as he approached. “I’ve got a fighter, this one here, winding up for you, Captain. What’s the plan?”

  “We’re going inside that fucking lunchbox-looking colossus and wreaking havoc.” Jason didn’t smile and didn’t slow down. He climbed the inset ladder and seated himself in the cockpit within seconds. “Grimes, keep us all on an open channel.”

  “The channel’s open, Captain,” Grimes acknowledged several moments later.

  “Listen up, everyone. I’m about ready for some serious payback. I hope you are too. If you’re ready, follow my lead.” With that, Jason phase-shifted his fighter into open space. Within five seconds the other fourteen fighters appeared in a closed vee formation behind him. Jason estimated the dreadnaught to be less than two thousand miles in front of them. He rechecked his next set of coordinates and phase-shifted away.

  Jason’s fighter arrived within the dreadnaught main corridor, still traveling at a good clip. It felt good to be at the controls again and he liked the feel of this more advanced ship. It took him several moments to acquaint himself with the controls, and how the HUD and the fighter interfaced to each other.