But just to verify, Adam had Jym plot out the coordinates in another direction. The reference points fell apart. On the other side of the galaxy the distance from Juir and the Core never intersected. They only did on this side of the galaxy from Juir. These HAD to be the coordinates for Earth.
But now they had three points. More correctly, they had three arcs, moving from high to low. Missing from the plot was the degree from the ecliptic plane. Zero-degree was a straight dissection of the galaxy, and then points were plotted as either positive or negative as you moved above or below the plane. Of course, the arcs continued in a full circle, yet the galaxy was a not a sphere. The higher or lower you went, the further from the ecliptic you would go, and soon you would be out of the galaxy altogether. Still, limiting the arcs to only twenty-degrees up or down left a lot of space to cover.
Adam stepped back and considered the screen. A spasm of pain shot through his side. He knew he had to get Sherri to patch him sooner rather than later. He had no idea how much blood he’d lost. But looking at the screen gave him renewed energy.
Three arcs. And a possible twenty degrees or so up or down along the arcs. In there, somewhere, was Earth. Somewhere along those red lines was his home.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Marishal was a planet at +24 degrees above the ecliptic and located in Sector 9 of the Juirean Expansion. Positioned on the opposite side of the Core from Juir, it had been incorporated into The Expansion almost six hundred years before. But since the planet was not located along any major shipping lanes, or possessing any great natural resources, Marishal was granted membership into The Expansion, and then promptly forgotten.
Four hundred years before the Juireans swept through the region, the Klin had already established the Marishal system as their sanctuary base. The gravity was very similar to Klinmon, their homeworld, and a neighboring planet provided a sufficient gravity where the various heavy-worlders they tested could be housed.
The natives of the planet accommodated the Juireans when they first arrived, yet kept secret their knowledge of the Klin. The Klin were much more generous than the Juireans, and over the centuries, the Marishallese prospered as master ship-builders for the ever-growing Klin fleet.
The yellow sun was setting over the western mountains, while brilliant flashes of orange reflected off the clouds and the surface of Lake Serenity, filling the room with a soft and soothing glow.
Senior Fellow Limmore stood before the great window and reflected on the scene. It was beautiful here, and it was his home. He had been born here; he would die here as well. But the thought of home often left him feeling hollow inside. Like all Klin, Limmore no longer had a home world, only a home, a place to be born, raised and to die. After four thousand years, the sense of not belonging to any one place still burned deep in the hearts of all Klin.
And yet the time for their own act of reckoning was near…
The Human stood behind Limmore and respected his silent revelry. Without turning, Limmore finally said, “The Juireans should be sufficiently apprehensive of your race by now, even if it has not gone completely according to plan.”
Nigel McCarthy, native-born Human, simply shrugged. “The fleet is more than prepared,” he said in a sharp British accent.
Limmore grinned. He turned to face the tall, muscular Human with the reddish hair. “Your race is so impatient, my friend.”
“Your race often over-plans,” was McCarthy’s retort.
“When you’re facing the greatest power in the galaxy, it pays to be cautious. But you’re right. The fleet is ready.”
Limmore turned back to the window. “You may send the beacon. Let the Juireans know the location of Earth.”
Sending transmissions through intergalactic space is fairly simple — if relay stations have been set up ahead of time. Throughout the Expansion, communication was fairly efficient. A message could be sent from Juir to any of the Sectors, and it would be received in a matter of hours.
Yet messages sent into non-Expansion space were a different matter. With faster-than-light travel, it was often quicker just to hand deliver messages. But rather than physically carrying messages from one destination to another, most messages were placed in compact message pods with massive gravity drives. Since no flesh and blood being were aboard the tiny pods, these drives could travel at hundreds of times light speed, creating deeper wells than even the most powerful starships.
So when the remaining Klin in The Fringe were given the order to send the beacon, they sent the pod out in a direct line for the current location of Earth, its encrypted signal broadcasting out along the entire route. If one looked through an optical telescope at the location it pointed to, there would be nothing there to see; the planet had not yet moved to this position, based upon the limits of visible light. But nevertheless, the beacon was sent straight for the planet Earth, pinpointing its location for anyone willing to follow the track.
The truth was, the Klin had long ago set up a series of relay stations in the Far Arm, but these stations were known only to them. Yet this beacon was sent out not utilizing this series of relays. Instead it was sent in the open, and conspicuously past a Juirean monitoring station at the edge of the Barrier.
Although the message was encrypted, the Klin did allow for the Juireans to break the code in a relatively short period of time. And when the words Earth, Humans, Klin, Juireans and invasion were deciphered, the message was sent immediately to the highest authority in The Fringe.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Yan’wal called an emergency meeting of his staff as soon as the message was received.
“Giodol, what else have we learned of this message?”
“It originated here, in The Fringe, and we have a reliable track as to its destination. The translation is reliable.”
“The translation may be reliable, but can the contents be accurate?”
Specialist Eannwen spoke next. “The message speaks of an impending invasion of Expansion space by these Humans. It goes on to say that the forces must be ready within three standard years if they stand any chance of success. The events of the past month are related in the message, including some information only we, in this room, are privy to. I believe the message, and its contents, to be genuine.”
“Thank you, Specialist.” Yan’wal was silent for a moment as he considered his next move. Then he spoke. “I will contact the Council immediately. We have a narrow window of opportunity to strike the Humans before they are fully prepared. We must take it. And we must make our strike decisive.
“Recently, we have seen what a relatively small number of these Humans have been able to do to our forces. One can only imagine what an entire planet of these beasts could achieve. I will be recommending that the Juirean Authority pool nearly all available military resources on this side of the galaxy to send against the Humans. We do not know how many ships they may have already completed.”
“My Lord,” Commander Siegor said, “Should we leave a reserve force in the Sector as insurance against…?” he hesitated speaking the last of this thought.
“Against a defeat, Commander?” Yan’wal finished the sentence for him. “That would be the prudent course of action. Yet with the enemy located so far away, we must take all the firepower and support ships with us as we can. We will not be in position to call for reinforcements should they be needed. We can always bring up additional forces from other Sectors, during our campaign, to stay in reserve. Will that satisfy you, Commander?”
“Of course, My Lord. It’s just that it has been such a long time since The Authority has fought a major enemy of The Expansion. Our forces have been drawn down to their lowest level in a thousand years.”