Deep Space. Ian Douglas

of distinct and separate spacetime paths through the volume defined by the Six Suns is not infinite, but may be a number so large as to be indistinguishable from infinity in any practical sense.”

      “We estimate ten to the twenty-six distinct spacetime pathways,” Gru’mulkisch said.

      Koenig gave a low whistle. One octillion paths. That was more than any survey could possibly map, a number that might as well be infinite. “Why would they want so many?” He asked.

      “In part,” Dra’ethde said, “the Six Suns were designed as a cultural center, a kind of monument to the greatness of ur-Sh’daar technology and power. There is also evidence that they were … experimenting with the structure space.”

      “Experimenting how?” Koenig asked.

      “We believe that the Six Suns served as a portal to other destinations than ordinary spacetime,” Gru’mulkisch told him. “They may have been trying to reach another universe, another brane altogether.”

      The shock of the cold statement was like a blow. They’d been trying to reach not just a remote region of space and time, but another universe?

      For centuries, now, cosmologists had hypothesized a large number of universes—possibly an infinite number—existing side by side within a kind of higher dimension or hyperspace physicists called the bulk. Each universe in this series was called a brane, from membrane, and appeared flat—two-dimensional, like a sheet—from the perspective of the bulk, but three-dimensional and coexistent with the other universes when viewed from within. Such a “universe of universes” was called the multiverse.

      By definition, those other universes were forever unreachable, completely unconnected with the familiar universe of Sol and Earth and all that Humankind knew. Each existed as a self-contained and isolated sphere of existence with its own set of physical laws, its own nested set of time lines, its own reality. This was something quite different from the more familiar branching of reality invoked in discussions of time travel in order to exorcise the dreaded grandfather paradox. Such branching universes—the so-called many-worlds solution to the Copenhagen Interpretation of quantum physics—were accessible if time travel into the past was possible. Koenig himself had proven that accessibility by reaching Omega Centauri T_-0.876gy.

      Whether unreachable branes or the accessible temporal branches of a quantum tree properly described the multiverse—or whether reality somehow incorporated both types of parallel universes—was still a matter of heated discussion. Physicists had proven the existence of alternate universes in the mid twenty-first century by showing that some types of subatomic particles that seemed to vanish from this universes in fact had moved … someplace else, but they still argued about what might be on the other side.

      By definition, there was no way to reach another brane, and yet Gru’mulkisch was telling him that the ur-Sh’daar had managed to do so … or at least that they’d tried. The mere fact that they’d attempted it said something profound about the level of that civilization’s technology … and about their understanding, their mastery of the cosmos.

      “So … I was asking you about the evolution of the Six Suns,” Koenig said after digesting this information. “We’ve already figured out that the Black Rosette is what the Six Suns turned into … evolved into. Stars with forty times the mass of Sol would be ephemeral … a lifetime of only a few million years.”

      The more massive a star, the greater the pressures within its core, and the faster it burns through its supply of hydrogen before detonating as a supernova or, for the most massive stars, as an even more powerful hypernova. What’s left after the explosion is most of the star’s mass compacted down to a black hole, a singularity with gravity so powerful that not even light could escape.

      “Yes,” Gru’mulkisch said. Her four stalked eyes twisted in a dizzying and untranslatable pattern. “We’re not sure how long the Six Suns existed in their original configuration. The ur-Sh’daar built them, merging sun with sun over the course of millions of years to keep them burning. The Sh’daar, however, apparently lost this technology and, eventually, all six of the stars aged, exploded, and collapsed. Over many more hundreds of millions of years, the black holes descended into tighter and faster orbits, until they became what you call the Black Rosette.”

      “The Black Rosette,” Dra’ethde added, “covers a much smaller area of space, of course. However, the gravitational vortices it generates are, we calculate, much more numerous, much more far reaching than the ur-Sh’daar originally planned.”

      “More than an octillion spacetime pathways?”

      “Considerably more. It may reach across a large portion of the multiverse, and involve both the creation and the destruction of this universe.”

      Koenig was silent for a long moment. When he didn’t respond immediately, Gru’mulkisch added, “We told you that much of this is supposition on our part.”

      “I know,” Koenig said. “I was just realizing what it was like to be a small child getting his first glimpse of a quantum power tap.”

      “I do not understand,” Gru’mulkisch said.

      “It looks so pretty,” Koenig said, “with that blue glow surrounding a couple of orbiting microsingularities … but I’m a kid and I have no idea at all what it does, how it works … and I don’t realize that if I’m not very careful, it could swallow me whole.”

      Chapter Five

       10 November 2424

       Sh’daar Node

       Texaghu Resch System

       210 Light Years from Sol

       1024 hours, TFT

      Red Mike fell clear of the TRGA cylinder’s entry, once again back in Time Now. Ahead, the Marine light carrier Nassau waited with her escorts. Mike sent the coded, tightly compacted message declaring his arrival and accelerated for home.

      “Welcome back, Red Mike,” a voice said within the probe’s consciousness. “Happy birthday!”

      It took Red Mike several seconds to decide what the officer on board the carrier was talking about. AI reconnaissance probes are not in the habit, after all, of thinking about birthdays.

      But he could reason, within certain parameters, and he did possess a simple outline of history within his files, designed to give him both context and a framework for his conversations with humans. The date—November 10—was the 694th anniversary of the creation of the original Continental Marines, at Tun Tavern, Philadelphia in 1775. The later United States Marines and, now, the USNA Marines, continued the tradition of observing this date with what amounted to a religious fervor, celebrating it with parades, speeches, cake cuttings, and formal balls wherever possible. The Nassau, a tiny microcosm of the Corps with several thousand Marines embarked on board, was no exception.

      Red Mike was as incurious about human traditions and customs as he was about anything else not specifically within his purview, but the birthday greeting did raise one question. If the Marines were busy cutting cakes and making speeches … were they ready for what appeared to be gathering just on the other side of the Sh’daar Node?

      TC/USNA CVS America

       USNA Naval Base

       Quito Synchorbital

       0840 hours, TFT

      Gray was in his office going through the daily briefings when Rear Admiral Steiger’s avatar entered Gray’s inward awareness. “Excuse me. Sandy?”

      “Yes, sir?”

      “I’ve been directed to link with Geneva for a strategic conference. I’d like my flag captain there with me.”