John Ringo - Vorpal Blade

Subsequent to that he’d been blown up, ripped into other dimensions, killed he was pretty sure, resurrected he was more sure and generally had a “blast” stopping an alien invasion.

The anomaly had been a boson generator, a black sphere they still didn’t have a theoretical handle on, that generated Higgs bosons at a phenomenal rate. What was worse, or better, take your pick, is that the bosons turned out to have the ability to “link” to other bosons and open up portals to… well, just about anywhere. Instantaneous transportation, even to other planets. The portals created mirrorlike openings that had been christened “Looking Glasses.” They went some strange places, that was for sure.

The kicker was that some of those planets had sentient beings that were interested in taking over the Earth. Called the Dreen, the species reproduced via a mat of fungus that was programmed to produce various other creatures. Like big, howling dog demons that ate people — humanity’s first contact with the Dreen — and all the way up to giant spider things the size of mountains. Presumably there was some sentient control behind the Dreen, but Bill had never seen it. All he’d seen was rhino-tanks and centipedes and howlers. Lots of howlers. The very name, Dreen, was an Adar rendition of the howl. Dreeeeeeen. Neither humans nor the Adar had any idea what the species called itself and didn’t really care. All they cared about was avoiding them or, if necessary or possible, wiping them out to the last fungoid monstrosity.

The upside to the gates were the Adar. They had encountered the Dreen when they’d first started creating their own Glasses, had had similar problems and had figured out how to close a Glass. Basically, all it needed was a big enough explosion. Big. World-killing. Since there was no way to set it off in the middle of a transfer — the movement was as close to instantaneous as instruments could detect — you had to choose which world to set it off on.

The Adar hadn’t wanted to risk it but when the Dreen were swarming through multiple portals the humans, specifically the president of the United States, had been willing to try anything. Weaver, with the support of a short division of mech infantry and a SEAL team, had managed to stick the explosive device on the far side of a portal in Kentucky. That was the second time he was pretty sure he’d died. But he’d been spit back out after a strange conversation with an entity or entities that might be God.

Shortly after they’d stopped the invasion, the Adar had given him another strange device. On first tests, it had appeared to be the world’s most powerful nuclear hand grenade. Any electrical power sent to it, so much as a spark of static, and, well, there was a boom. A really big boom. “There should have been an earth shattering Ka-Boom!” boom. Putting three-phase on it had, in fact, erased a solar system.

The Adar didn’t know what it was supposed to do but Weaver had basically guessed that it was, in fact, some sort of Faster-Than-Light drive. It took nearly a year of tinkering, and two more planets, to figure out that it was, in fact, such a drive. It had taken another year to create the first prototype starship.

By then, Weaver had switched sides in the ongoing sales war, leaving the Beltway and taking a direct commission in the Navy, which was the lead service in developing the world’s first spaceship. He’d pointed out even before switching sides that the Navy just made more sense. The President wanted a presence off-world as fast as possible. They’d picked up enough intel in the brief war to know that the Dreen had some sort of FTL as well. Finding out where the Dreen were, whether they were headed to Earth through normal space, was a high priority. The only way to make a spaceship, fast, was to convert something. The obvious choice had been one of the many ballistic missile submarines that were being decommissioned.

So Weaver, while continuing to consult on engineering issues, was now the astrogation officer of the Naval Construction Contract 4144. Despite a couple of shakedown cruises around the solar system, the Top Secret boat had yet to be named. The 4144 had all the beauty and problems of any prototype. Most of the equipment was human, much of it original to the former SSBN Nebraska . Other bits were Adar or Human-Adar manufacture. The fact that it worked at all was amazing.

In two days, the still unnamed boat was going to be blasting off for points unknown. Well, actually, all the points were known. Bill had created the initial survey route. But what was there was unknown. Mankind was finally going “Where No Man Has Gone Before.” And he was listening to Sal pitch the new Col-Gomo Adar 2007 to another unsuspecting client while picking at his ordundrorob beetle soup.

Most Adar food was incompatible with human systems. The Adar had, after all, evolved on a completely different planet. Even basic sugars were stereo isomers. Isomers were chemicals in which certain bonds could go in either direction. All the “sugar” isomers of Earth were so-called “left” isomers. Adar sugars were “right” isomers. Many Adar foods were so incompatible as to be poisonous.

But over the last seven years, humans and Adar had found a surprising number of dishes and drinks, starting with Coca-Cola, that each species could consume. Oh, it was usually the nutritional equivalent of eating sawdust, but the food was good. And since there was zero nutritional content it was the killer diet food. Bill, mostly due to spending all his damned time sitting at a desk lately, had started to pad on a few pounds. Given that he’d once been champion-class at mountain biking and karate, the tub was eating at him. Ergo, Adar food.

On the other hand…

“I’ve got a meeting at thirteen-thirty,” Bill said as Sal finished his call, finally. “The answer is I’m not in that branch of procurement, I don’t do procurement and I think your system sucks. If you’re looking for me to say good words about it, look elsewhere.”

“Bill. Buddy…” Sal said, shaking his head. “You don’t have to be that way…”

“Yes, I do,” Bill replied. “I’m a damned government employee these days, Sal. I’m going to have to do paperwork on this lunch, I’m going to have to pick up the bill or go Dutch and I’ve got a forty-minute drive back to the docks. All that to be pitched on a system we both know is crap.”

“Okay,” Sal said, holding up his hands. “Seriously. I agree with you. Fazglim and Dulaul don’t know diddly about servers. We both know that. So… Do you know any good Adar that are in the market?”

“Why couldn’t you just come out and say that, Sal?” Bill asked, tonging up another mouthful of noodles. “I don’t, but I know who to ask. Good enough?”

“We really need a good Adar working in our code department,” Sal said. “We’re losing ground to LockLilug. They’ve got Gilanglka heading up their department. We can’t compete with him.”

“Whoever it is is going to want something like a CIO position,” Bill pointed out. “You know that.”

“I was told by very senior people to ask,” Sal said.

“I’ll ask around,” Bill said. “Ring. Command. Bill.”

“Your bill is twenty-nine, forty-seven,” his earring phone replied. “Fifteen percent tip will be four, forty-two.”

“Command: Add tip. Pay bill,” Bill said, standing up. “Command off. See ya, Sal.”

“Good to see you again, Bill,” Sal said, standing up. “I should have gotten at least half.”

“I needed to run,” Weaver replied, shaking his hand. He’d gotten some melaegl sauce on his khakis and he wiped at it with the nannie nap. The napkin, which had active nannites that aggressively sought out and removed stains, should have swept the stain clean but all it did was rub it in. Of course, if they’d been washed too many times…