“I will, but first we need to fix our transponder. Please give us another moment and I’ll provide a full explanation. Things are not as they seem.” Grady muted the comm and glanced at the ceiling. “Mal, switch back to our proper ID.”
“Done,” the AI declared. “We are, once again, broadcasting our credentials as an Interstellar Coalition patrol craft. But will they believe us, Matey? I’m not so sure I would, under the circumstances.”
“We’ll see,” Grady said. “Time to put all our cards on the table and trust this Phil is as fair and open-minded as the one I knew.” Before he could unmute the external comm, Mal announced, “We’re being flanked. Fighters have taken up position off both our starboard and port beams.”
“A prudent move,” Grady replied. “I’d have done the same thing. As far as Phil is aware, we’re a damaged enemy spacecraft that still packs a lot of firepower. He’s not sure he can take us in a fight without significant loss of life. Let’s hope neither of us has to find out. Here goes.”
He reactivated the outgoing comm. “This is the Interstellar Coalition patrol craft Adventurer, designation ICPA12, formerly a gunship of the Earth Galactic Space Navy. Our previous transponder ID was a ruse, bait to help catch a pirate ship and gather intel. We are not your enemy.”
Silence followed, then, “There’s no vessel with that classification in the IC fleet.” Lorcan sounded testy as he went on. “Transponders can be faked. What kind of game are you playing? I won’t ask again. Identify yourself.”
Grady scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I will. First, I ask that you do not open fire until you hear everything I’ve got to say. What I’m about to tell you is going to sound very peculiar. Our intentions are not hostile. I repeat, we are not enemies. In fact, we’re on the same side.”
“So long as your weapons remain offline, we will not open fire,” Lorcan said, sounding puzzled. His voice strengthened as he added, “But make no mistake, if you even twitch in a way that looks threatening, we will engage you with deadly force.”
“Understood. And thank you.” Grady narrowed his eyes for a moment, let his breathing settle, and said in as calm a voice as he could manage, “It’s me, Phil. Your old pal, Jack Grady. Just not the exact same one you served with on the Gany after we both graduated from flight school.”
“What sort of sick joke are you trying to pull?” Lorcan said, anger seeping into his tone. “Lieutenant Grady was killed several years ago. You dishonor his memory by trying to assume his identity, and I won’t stand for it.”
Why does everyone think I’m an identity thief? Grady thought. I’ve got enough trouble just trying to be myself. Out loud he said, “It’s no joke, I promise. I’ve been told how the Jack Grady you knew died in an abortive attempt to capture the Ganymede and bring the starcarrier over to the rebel side,” Grady said. “I remember events differently. This is going to sound crazy, Phil. But it’s really me. I can prove it.”
“Bullshit. I don’t know who the hell you are or what you hope to gain by this, but my patience is wearing thin. Drop your shields now and prepare to be boarded.”
“We will. But before we do, let me convince you that I’m telling the truth. I’m enabling video transmission. Will you do the same?”
“If it means we can put an end to this charade, then why not?” came Lorcan’s reply. “Your broadcast is coming through now. We can finally…what the hell!”
The wraparound screen lining the front wall of Adventurer’s cockpit morphed to show a view of the freighter’s bridge. A lanky, fair-haired, hazel-eyed man sat in the captain’s elevated chair, his face a mask of confusion. Lorcan’s mouth hung open, eyes wide as he stared into the screen.
“Hi, Phil,” Grady said, raising his hand. “It’s me, Jack Grady. I’m not dead, or at least this version of me isn’t. I know it’s quite a shock, to put it mildly. There’s a lot I need to tell you. What would you say to a cup of coffee and a friendly chat with a ghost?”
8
Tension almost seemed to scorch the air as the two groups eyed each other. Seated around the large, rectangular, bolted down table in Adventurer’s lounge were Grady, Zoe, and Chalmers on one side. Facing them, and exhibiting a mixture of expressions from incredulity to outright hostility, were two men and a woman. All three sported uniforms similar to those worn by Grady and his crew, though the design and color pattern showed subtle differences. One of the men was the same sandy-haired officer from the live video of the armed freighter’s bridge: Phil Lorcan, Grady’s best friend, apparently risen from the dead.
Adventurer and the rebel command ship, Freedom Defender, were joined at the hip, a sturdy, flexible umbilical connecting each airlock. Minor corrections by the AI enhanced autopilots of both vessels using maneuvering thrusters—Tara keeping a close watch on Mal’s adjustments—kept them tethered together without mishap.
The inner airlock hatch aboard Adventurer was shut and locked. While Grady had willingly proposed his ship as the meeting venue—and wanted to believe his friend’s counterpart in this reality was trustworthy—he wasn’t taking any chances with the safety of his crew and passengers. For the same reason, he’d asked Mbeki to don his powered suit of body armor and remain out of sight, but in ready mode, should his intervention be required.
“It’s a lot to absorb, I know,” Grady said, eyeing his former comrade across the table. Even though this was a different version of the man he had served with, he sensed the two were more-or-less the same person. Could he persuade Lorcan that he, too, was essentially the same as the Jack Grady who was killed during the failed uprising on the Ganymede in this dimension? He took a sip of black coffee and sat back, having finished telling the three rebel officers how he and his crew came to find themselves marooned in an alternate reality. Zoe and Chalmers had contributed to Grady’s rendition, adding details to supplement and reinforce his account of recent events.
“This is all so incredible,” Lorcan said, scratching the back of his head. He lapsed into a preoccupied silence and downed a swig of coffee as he stared at Grady. “Duplicates of each of us,” he said after several moments. “Alien contact. An alternate reality—lots of them, in fact. Not to mention the IC taking control of entire sectors.” The last was said with a certain amount of wistfulness.
“You’re not buying this load of hogwash, are you, Captain?” The woman, athletic looking, with tight-cropped dark hair and a fierce glint in her light brown eyes—introduced as Lieutenant Myers—was the source of the hostility. She had refused all offers of tea, coffee, or other refreshments after boarding Adventurer along with her colleagues. Arms crossed, she glared at the people facing her. “It’s obviously some sort of elaborate deception to convince us to trust them.”
Zoe leaned forward and returned the woman’s glower with one of her own. “Hells, why would we make up something as batshit crazy as this? Believe me, we’ve got better things to do than hang around in the Badlands hoping to snare an unsuspecting pirate ship and squeeze their captain for intel.”
“To infiltrate our organization, that’s why,” the woman, Myers, countered, dropping her hands to her thighs. “Earth Galactic is always trying new ways to plant spies and saboteurs within our ranks. This is merely the most farfetched effort so far.” She switched her attention to Lorcan sitting beside her. “We can’t rely on anything they tell us, sir. It’s all lies.”
Before Lorcan could respond, Chalmers raised her hand, palm forward, and tossed Myers a placatory smile. “I don’t blame you for doubting us. I would too, if I were in your shoes. What if we send you proof—audio and vid evidence to back up our story?”
“What sort of evidence?” The speaker was the third rebel officer. Of slight build, with short red hair parted at the side and narrow, round-rimmed glasses, he had said very little up to this point, but conveyed a watchful air. Lorcan had been a little vague in describing the man’s title and role, referring to him as Specialist Zhou.
Grady tossed Chalmers a grateful glance. “That’s an excellent idea, Professor.” He turned his head toward Lorcan. “I’m sure you’ll want time to debrief among yourselves on everything we’ve told you. Why don’t I have Mal, our ship’s AI, transmit a record of our alien ally, Fidelon, coming aboard? As well as our encounter with his mothership, Epsilon; along with the skirmishes involving Cavill at the gas giant in our reality, and again at the edge of the Badlands in this dimension. You can review the material and decide for yourself.”
Lorcan pinched the end of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Agreed, thank you.” He sounded distracted and added, “One aspect of your briefing really worries me. We already knew that Earth Galactic was planning something, but had no idea they were assembling a fleet in this sector. That’s a very recent development. If what you say is true, the presence of the Gany, their flagship, just beyond the border can only mean one thing. They are massing forces in preparation for a full-scale invasion of the Badlands. I need to get back to my ship and issue an alert to all IC forces.”
“Forgive me, sir, but isn’t that somewhat premature?” Myers said, her tone clipped, strident. “Videos can be doctored, as can audio. We only have their word that the alien even exists. Doesn’t it seem convenient that it—he—seems to have vanished, along with the vessel he arrived in? It could all be a fabrication, designed to distract us from their true purpose—infiltration.” Her voice increased in volume as she gave Grady a scathing glance. “What if the report about the Gany’s presence is a falsehood, too? Intended to trick us into abandoning our position here and render us vulnerable to a surprise attack while we relocate.”
Lorcan tossed her a speculative look and fingered the rim of his coffee mug. “Point taken, Lieutenant. We’ll have our onboard AI examine the information they send for any indication of tampering. And you’re right, I’ll need more proof before I accept everything we’ve been told.”
Grady opened his mouth to respond when Lorcan held up his hand to forestall him. “However, if there’s even a chance Earth Galactic is preparing to invade the Badlands, we have a responsibility to inform headquarters, as well as the other outposts. We’ll say the intel is unproven, but to be on the watch for increased enemy activity in the sector.”
“A wise precaution,” Grady said. “Why not go one better and send a fast fighter to investigate and verify our report? That way, it’ll help confirm we’re speaking the truth about the existence of an Earth Galactic fleet massing at the periphery of the Badlands and add credence to everything else we told you.”
Zhou let out a soft cough, his hand placed in front of his mouth. Lorcan raised an eyebrow and glanced at him. “You have something to add, Specialist?”
“The, um, captain’s suggestion seems like a sensible move, sir. I agree the intel needs to be verified, of course. Even so, the risk is too severe to ignore.” He angled his head toward Myers, whose face appeared fixed in a permanent scowl. “Sending a rapid response fighter with orders to investigate the coordinates that these, ah, fellow rebels provide should help allay our understandable concerns about their credibility.”
Myers snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re falling for this drivel about an alternate reality?”
Zhou arched his eyebrows and cracked a thin smile. “Why not? It’s long been posited that an infinite number of parallel universes exist alongside our own. That each universe occurs within an endless multiverse. If so, it was perhaps inevitable that the dimensions would intersect at some point. Perhaps they have in the past, only no one was aware of the interaction.” He fixed Grady with a steady gaze. “I am intrigued by what has been disclosed to us and am eager to test its veracity. If true, it opens up all sorts of fascinating possibilities, assuming the method of transiting between dimensions is found to be reliable.”
“I’m happy you’re keeping an open mind, Specialist,” Grady said, returning the man’s gaze. “However, as I mentioned, we arrived in this reality as the result of a mishap. We’re not yet certain it’s possible to return to our own, though we believe it is. The alien, Fidelon, told me his ancestors were working on improving their method of faster-than-light travel when they accidentally discovered the means for moving between parallel universes. I can’t vouch for its stability, or safety.”
“Understood,” Zhou said with a nod of acknowledgement. “Nevertheless, the opportunities for advancing our knowledge of the sciences and other disciplines are immense, should safe two-way travel between realities become feasible at some point. Imagine of all we could learn from our counterparts in other dimensions.”
