*
It all began ten weeks before Seth Garland would find himself in a jail cell, face-to-face with one of the most powerful men in the Republic. It was before he could even fathom such a thing was possible. His life was insufferably boring. Every day was just like the last.
Seth was a student at the prestigious Republic School of Interplanetary Relations. For most people, that would be enough. RSIR only accepted the best and brightest. It was usually the culmination of years of higher education, since admission required knowledge in multiple fields and proficiencies in several disciplines. At RSIR, students learned how to mediate conflicts on every planet in the galaxy.
The People’s Interstellar Republic, which was comprised of Earth and two other nearby worlds, controlled all interplanetary transportation in the galaxy. There was only one for a ship to travel faster than light: an engine known as the Heilmann Drive. Very few people knew how to operate a Heilmann Drive and even fewer knew how to build one. Every single one of those people was a citizen of the PIR and kept under heavy guard.
The dozens of other planets were allowed to transport goods and people on these ships in exchange for a single concession: they had to submit to PIR mediation in the event of any armed conflict. If a planet refused or rejected the decision of the mediator, the PIR would suspend trade routes to that world. Since there were no two colonized planets less than fifteen lightyears apart, this left the punished world abandoned, unable to even communicate with the rest of humanity.
In this way, the PIR enforced peace across the galaxy, and it did so with RSIR trained diplomats. These diplomats wielded extraordinary power, essentially able to control the destiny of entire planets under threat of exile.
Seth hoped to be one of those diplomats, but he was different from his classmates. They were patriots at heart. They were motivated by their love for the PIR. Many people believed that diplomacy was the highest form of service to the Republic. Seth didn’t care for such thoughts. He didn’t attend RSIR to learn how to serve his government. He was there because he wanted the power. It was that simple. He never did a very good job of hiding his motivations and this worried the faculty.
“I don’t think you understand the purpose of the School,” Dr. Hammond said. He was one of the resident psychotherapists at RSIR. There were three other doctors just like him, and they counseled the staff and students on a regular basis.
“Okay,” Seth said. His dark hair hung around his almond-shaped eyes as he looked at the doctor. He leaned back in his chair, trying to act comfortable. He hated every moment he spent with the psychotherapist. “How about you tell me what the purpose of the school is?”
Dr. Hammond sighed. Of the four doctors at RSIR, he was the only one who refused to give up on Seth Garland. The other three wouldn’t even speak to him.
Seth liked to think that he’d broken them.
This one was different. A large, jovial man, Dr. Hammond seemed fascinated by Seth. He didn’t grow tired of his games or tricks, and Seth had thrown everything in the book at him. Seth had tried to avoid his mandatory therapy sessions ever since admission to RSIR. When the school forced him to attend or drop out, he decided to make a mockery of the process. He made up stories, he rambled incoherently, he pretended to have symptoms of various diseases of the mind... He did whatever it took to make the psychologists realize that these sessions were a waste of time. And it would have worked, if not for Dr. Hammond.
“Peace,” the therapist said. “You are being trained to bring peace to all the planets in the galaxy.”
Seth laughed. That was what he thought the doctor might say. “Ridiculous. You think they have peace on Caustria? How about Arya? And Vangelia?”
Dr. Hammond hesitated. The three planets Seth named were well-known for their brutal internal policies and human rights violations. Caustria employed a peculiar form of slavery that required their young to survive a period of indentured servitude before gaining the right to free employment or the ownership of property. Arya prevented the immigration of anyone without certified ancestral records that proved they were descended from certain parts of Earth. Vangelia was controlled by a ruthless theocracy that oppressed and tortured women, as well as branding dissidents as heretics.
The People’s Interstellar Republic refused to revoke the travel privileges of any of those worlds. This was only one of the reasons Seth hated the PIR.
“What you are talking about is their culture,” Dr. Hammond said eventually. “And we have no right to interfere in that. I thought you were a fan of self-determination.”
Seth glared at the doctor. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Just like every other stupid Republic shill, you can’t distinguish between the will of the people and the will of their government.”
Dr. Hammond’s eyes went wide and he stared at Seth. Seth froze, realizing that for the first time he’d told the therapist what was really bothering him. What he said wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t a game or a joke. It was the very thing that haunted him constantly.
“I think we’ve reached a breakthrough, Seth,” the doctor said. “It’s clear that your problems stem from some misconceptions about the Republic. Let’s talk about that.”
Misconceptions? Seth had to keep from laughing. He had no misconceptions about the PIR. He knew exactly what they were.
The PIR began as a provisional government cooperative between the United States of America and the People’s Republic of China shortly after the invention of faster-than-light travel. Two huge issues faced the world once the Heilmann Drive was invented:
First, dozens of habitable planets were discovered, and almost every alienated group on Earth wanted to claim one for itself. Second, the Heilmann Drive was dangerous. The Heilmann Drive allowed a starship to fold and compress the space in front of it, then leap across the compressed space to anywhere within the galaxy. Any matter caught in the folded space was converted to energy. This made the Heilmann Drive a powerful weapon, capable of destroying planets or even stars.
The two most powerful governments on Earth cooperated to secure the exclusivity of the dangerous Heilmann Drive, as well as apportion the habitable planets to colonists. The nations of the world pooled their military resources behind the new cooperative. They prepared for the possibility of hostile alien life in the galaxy.
Before too long, the boundaries between the nations of Earth began to dissolve. Governments and armies fraternized together, forming personal and political alliances. Anyone who didn’t like this sudden globalization left Earth for another world. Before long, the legislatures of the Earth’s governments voted to consolidate. Two nearby worlds requested to join in the alliance and the PIR was formed.
In the hundreds of years since the PIR came into existence, it did nothing but hold back humanity. To their credit, they provided for the prosperity of all their citizens. No one starved in the PIR. In fact, most people in the Republic struggled with health issues related to obesity or over-consumption. Very few people were discontent. Even those who held the most menial of jobs, or no job at all, were well-supported by the government and had access to all varieties of entertainment.
But that was only one side of it. This prosperity was achieved by force. Scientists and engineers who knew anything about the technology that made the Republic such a paradise were kept on Earth by the military. Anyone who spoke out about this policy was charged with treason and sedition if they were lucky. If they weren’t lucky, they simply disappeared.
“I’d tell you what I think about the Republic,” Seth said. “But I would be taking my life into my own hands. That’s all I need to say.”
Dr. Hammond smiled in a feeble attempt to seem inviting. “I am your doctor. Nothing you say goes beyond these walls.” He gestured around him.
Seth shook his head. “Don’t try that with me,” he said. “Do the other students believe that shit?
Because that’s a shame.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You are employed by RSIR,” Seth said. He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “RSIR is funded entirely from the discretionary budget of the Republic Military. Anyone who is employed, directly or indirectly, through the military serves at the discretion of the High Council. That means that you are forbidden from entering into any private contract or covenant relating to your job—explicit or implied.”
Dr. Hammond stared at him, stunned. Seth realized that he didn’t understand the nature of his job. Maybe he really thought that he was trying to help the students at RSIR. If so, it was pitiful. Seth was glad to clear things up.
“Basically you’re not really acting as a doctor right now and I’m not really acting as your patient. You are a consultant to the Republic Military with a medical background. I am an interview subject. And you are actually obliged to report any treasonous speech to your commanding officer. In this case, that would be the RSIR’s Dean of Student Affairs.”
“I... I...” The usually jovial man looked despondent. “But that’s not what I... I’m a doctor.”
Seth shrugged. “Check the regulations. It’s there.”
Dr. Hammond continued to gape. “But that’s not right. They shouldn’t be able to do that.”
“Careful,” Seth replied. He held up a finger, as if to tell the doctor to stop speaking. “My education is paid for through a separate but very similar fund. I am required to report any treasonous speech directly to the nearest Republic Intelligence branch. If I don’t, I could be expelled.”
The doctor went quiet. Seth thought about elaborating further. The PIR regulations were so byzantine and complex that, at some point, almost every citizen receiving funds allocated by the High Council was required to report treason. It had become a standard rider attached to any spending bill that created new employment, educational grants, or welfare benefits.
“Don’t you see, doctor? None of us are doing what we really want to be doing.”
The therapist looked up and towards the wall to his right. There was a small window there, looking out on the blue skies outside. Rows of metal girders partially obscured the sun. They were the foundation of the floating hydroponic arrays which fed most of the people of Earth.
“You’re wrong. They do all of this for our own good.” The doctor paused, thinking for a moment. “Do you know much about history, Mr. Garland?
Seth shrugged. “There is a lot of history, doc. You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Until the formation of the PIR, this world was locked in perpetual conflict. We killed each other, we tortured each other, we starved each other. Now that’s all over. The PIR does what it must to maintain that peace.”
A heavy silence fell over the room as Seth realized the doctor could not be reached. For just a moment, it seemed as if he would listen. No. Instead, he was content to repeat the propaganda of the Republic.
“That world created this one,” Seth said. “What will this world create? Nothing. We haven’t created a single thing in a thousand years.” He stood up and grabbed his black jacket off the back of his chair. “We’ve talked enough. I’m done. Write whatever you want in your report. Tell the Republic authorities what I think. You won’t be the first.”
The therapist didn’t try and stop him. Seth wasn’t surprised. He hoped this would be the end of the charade. Once this doctor gave up on him, there wouldn’t be any more licensed therapists at RSIR to assign him to. Maybe he could finally be free of the weekly sessions.
Seth threw open the doors to the office and stormed into the hall. He pressed the call button to summon the magnetic lift. He started to look forward to going back to his room, getting a little sleep, and even preparing for class. As much as he didn’t like his instructors at RSIR, sometimes he found their lessons amusing.
Before the magnetic lift could arrive, Seth caught something in the corner of his eye. Several people were gathered around a viewscreen near the end of the hall. They were mostly support staff--guards, secretaries, and janitors at RSIR--but even two of the doctors were there. They spoke in hushed whispers to each other, as if they finally realized that the Republic was listening to everything they said.
At first, Seth figured that this was just another manufactured tragedy. Every so often, there would be an explosion on a freighter or at a Republic facility. It would be blamed on a particular rebel group that opposed the Republic. Invariably, this would be a terrorist organization that Seth had never heard of. The commissars would get on the viewscreens and promise retribution. Within a few weeks, the leaders of the rebel group would be captured and the Republic would be safe again.
Seth had made several attempts to find actual, existing resistance groups on Earth before they made a move and were quickly destroyed by the Republic. He didn’t believe they existed at all. All of these tragedies were truly farces, and sometimes Seth wondered if he was the only one who saw it.
This time was different. Something compelled him to approach the viewscreen that day. He approached the huddled group and peered over their shoulders to see what drew their rapt attention.
There was a man in a long beige coat standing behind a podium. He was just finishing up his prepared statement as Seth moved into earshot of the viewscreen.
“…is damaging the very fabric of existence,”
A flurry of noise erupted in front of him as every reporter at the news conference tried to ask a question at once. The man just stepped backwards and held up his hands, as if there was nothing he could do about his findings.
This wasn’t what Seth expected at all. If this was another so-called terrorist attack, there wouldn’t even be reporters at the conference. It would all be staged.
Seth turned to a large woman next to him. She was the receptionist for the nearby physical therapy office. “What’s going on?” he asked. “What is he talking about?”
The woman shook her head sadly. “It’s the Heilmann Drive,” she said. “They think it’s going to cause the end of the world.”
2.
The Heilmann Drive was broken. Or if it wasn’t broken, it never really worked right at all.
In theory, the Heilmann Drive was a simple device. It operated by folding three dimensional space into a two dimensional envelope. A starship could then move across the folded space, immediately unfold it, and leap across it to any point in the galaxy. The matter within the envelope was compressed and fused to provide the massive amount of energy required to power the drive.
Apparently it wasn’t that simple. The Heilmann Drive was doing something else. It was wearing down the fabric of reality, causing it to warp and distort. Almost all of the pundits used the same metaphor to describe what was happening: it was like stretching a rubber band too many times. Reality itself was losing its elasticity.
This danger wasn’t just theoretical. It was already happening. The first news reports were accompanied with video taken on one of the space stations near the largest trade route between Earth and Gammaron. Everything aboard the station was slightly distorted and warped. Everything seemed to curve and undulate. The air shimmered as if it was somehow fragile. Light no longer traveled in a straight line, instead wavering and curving even in the vacuum of space. Time passed slower in some rooms of the station and faster in others.
What did this mean? No one knew. Not yet. It was too strange, too inconceivable. No one understood how to measure the warping effect. It didn’t seem to affect anything except perception. It did not damage the space station and it did not hurt its occupants. Matter within the warp remained the same as ever. It affected something beyond matter, something deeper that puzzled even the most prominent physicists in the PIR.
Most importantly, the warping effect was not unique to the trade route between Earth and Gammaron. Preliminary studies showed that similar effe
cts appeared along all the major trade routes in the galaxy. The reality of the situation was clear. The warps were caused by the Heilmann Drive. It was somehow damaging the fabric of space-time, wearing away at the foundations of the universe.
In a matter of hours, the PIR halted all Heilmann Leaps across the warped routes. They redirected starships through lesser-used pathways. But this was only a temporary solution. Now a trip between Earth and Gammaron took two Heilmann Leaps instead of one. If the leaps were creating the warps, this would only exacerbate the problem in the long term.
No one knew what would happen if the warping continued. Could continued use of the Heilmann drive wear down space-time to a breaking point? What would happen then? What would that even mean?
There was no way to know, and no one wanted to find out. When every Heilmann Leap could mean the end of the galaxy, there was only one solution. The leaps had to stop.