The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

or members of their so-called Triumvirate. They have influence on twenty-nine worlds, and their presence is creating instability.”

“As I predicted,” Cabrise said. “They forced the Carriers to evacuate and left behind a vacuum.”

“Correct,” Joseph continued. “Interplanetary commerce has crashed. The Chancellory spent centuries maintaining a stable but complex system of trade that benefited everyone. We have a deep well of support begging for the Carriers to return. And without the Sanctums to bridge the political lines between us and them, most simply do not know how to govern themselves.”

“Ethnic sovereignty,” Frances mused. “We fed the indigos no greater illusion. They cannot survive without our leash.”

Forsythe nodded. “As their economies destabilize, they will slide into partisan factions. Many believe in Bouchet’s so-called miracles.”

“Yes,” Joseph said. “And some worlds will slide firmly into his corner. The others will devolve into violence – the kind peacekeepers used to quell. But even those wars will produce winners, new political dynamics, and new economic philosophies. In time, the colonies will create new rules for trade. Many have fleets of system ships and the infrastructure to build more.”

“Which leaves Earth on the outs,” Michael said. He waited for a response, but none came. “I mean, that’s what you don’t wanna say. Right? I know history. I’ve been studying. You used Elevation Philosophy and the Guard to rape the colonies for centuries. Ninety percent of the Chancellory’s wealth comes from the colonies. Lose them, and Earth is royally fucked.”

No one bothered to argue the point. Michael was experiencing something new – a moment where he left Chancellors confounded.

“Look, people, I’m not a dumbass,” he continued. “This new tech … the Anchors … this ain’t just about invading Hiebimini. It’s your way back in business. You master this tech and build it out … hell, that leash you mentioned, Frances? Shorter and tighter than ever.”

Frances raised a finger as others tried to interject.

“Our newly christened third lieutenant is an expert on Chancellors because he has been studying history. Three years on our side of the IDF, and you understand the past thousand, do you?” She licked her lips. “In this case, yes. Your analysis might be considered spot-on. But your tone is misplaced. As is your impertinence.

“No one wants the Anchors to work more than you. No one wants to reach Hiebimini faster than you. Yes? This Chancellor you love? Her family built its prestige off these colonies. The Boston estate where you lived in opulence? Not possible without worlds like Tamarind. So, yes, dear Michael. The Anchors are our way back in business.” She acknowledged everyone else.

“Now appears as good a time as any for my news. The Anchor prototypes have been perfected. In two days, we conduct a full-scale test of their capacity. Then we will be back in business. Yes?”

6

T HIS NEWS OVERSHADOWED EVERYTHING ELSE. As much as he wanted to wrap his hands around her neck, Michael conceded the point to Frances. His heart beat faster as she laid out the details of the test to an excited group.

“We have decided upon ambitious parameters,” she said. “We will test the Anchors using a quadrangular portal, spanning 2.4 light-years. Anchor Alpha, in the lab beneath us, will transport to Anchor Beta on Praxis, which will transport to Anchor Gamma on Euphrates, which will then deliver our product to Anchor Delta, situated on the far side of Euphrates. And then, back here. My husband has been overseeing operations on Euphrates. He insists we are ready.”

Aside from the revelation that Emil Bouchet had traveled in secret to Tamarind’s nearest colonial neighbor – he was assumed to be managing operations from Praxis – Frances surprised everyone with the notion of a four-way test.

“Our immediate concern is bypassing Hiebimini’s Nexus blockade,” Alayna Rainier said. “We need to know this works as a straight line between two points.”

“My husband and I conferred,” Frances said. “We have been thinking too small. We need to test their capacity as a network. This is, after all, the ultimate goal: Instant transport across multiple routes. When we reach Hiebimini, we should be able to deploy our forces across the planet to attack the enemy wherever he resides.”

“Agreed,” Cabrise said. “But is there a danger of pushing the technology beyond its capacity?”

One of Frances’s engineers, Oliver Huron, stepped forward.

“If I may, Frances? Each Anchor contains a pattern sleeve with a unique and continuous quantum signature grounded to its exact coordinates using the Galactic Plane Navigation Model. In simplest terms, Anchor Alpha will be programmed to find the GPNM signature of Anchor Beta, and so on. That assures point-to-point connection. However, we have programmed a separate delivery sleeve to forward the arrival of any object or person to the next Anchor in the sequence. If the two sleeves at Anchor Beta fail to communicate, the worst that will happen is the new arrival will exit Beta unharmed, only seconds after departing Alpha.”

Quizzical stares followed. Michael studied enough quantum science and interstellar navigation to understand the concept, but it sounded as impossible as the day he first heard of the scheme.

“One question,” he said.

Frances tapped Oliver’s shoulder and raised a finger.

“Is this a question, Michael, or another one of your colorful rants?”

“I don’t rant, Frances. I just say what the fuck’s on my mind. One question, Oliver. You said, ‘any object or person.’ Right? So, do we know for sure that people can be tossed across light-years and come out the other side without being ripped to shreds?”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “As I’ve told you before, Michael, this is not teleportation. We tried that centuries ago. It doesn’t work. What was that movie you kept referencing …?”

“Star Trek.”

“Yes. We are folding space inside the black matter substrata. This is no different than walking through a door but only takes a few seconds longer. We’ve had this