Chapter 200 - EVO

***Trakken Prime***

***Ittoit, Head Researcher***

I crossed my arms and glared at Ituun.

The diplomat didn’t allow himself to get intimidated by my demeanour and leisurely joined the rest of the team on the platform. It certainly didn’t seem like he took this mission overly seriously. The man had manoeuvred himself into the position of head diplomat over the course of the last few months, gaining a vast amount of influence thanks to our research team.

And now he had used that influence to get me and my assistant, Ittar, into quite a mess.

Ittar stood right next to me, clutching a tablet with all the language information we had acquired from the Tirnanogians.

Ituun returned my icy glare with a confident smirk. “Still not over it? I am sorry, but due to the vital role you played with our visitors, having you on this mission was a necessity.”

“We are researchers. We are not supposed to go on missions to who knows where,” I reiterated, unapologetically. It was a useless repeat of the same old argument, but I couldn’t help myself. “A suicide mission, that is. We don’t even know whether we would be welcome, which is highly unlikely. Otherwise, they would have reached out instead of just cutting contact.”

In addition, the scientists who were in charge of our newest long-range wormhole generator didn’t exactly inspire a lot of trust in me with their explanations.

Ituun shrugged. “To believe so is your prerogative, but I would hardly join the mission myself if I thought it to be hopeless. In regard to our visitors, they seemed civilised enough. In my opinion, they wouldn’t put us on the chopping block just for showing up unannounced.”

Ittar gripped her tablet tighter. “Is there truly no other way? Maybe we could send another delegation? I am sure the Tirnanogians could use that teleportation orb of theirs to send them back. And once we know it is safe, we can go?”

‘If they arrived in one piece’, was what she left unsaid.

“If we could send out multiple missions, that would certainly be the best way to handle the situation,” Ituun admitted. “But as of now, this prototype we have here is currently the only wormhole generator which has any hope of reaching the target destination. And in doing so, we will almost certainly burn it out, requiring the construction of a whole new device. Which may take months, as our whole industry is currently focused on short-range devices. We just do not have the necessary experience with handling the power requirements for long-range devices. The scientists are claiming that a whole new field of material science is necessary to make the technology viable for those kinds of trips.”

I inwardly scoffed at the thought of calling a wormhole generator that could bridge ten to twenty light years a short-range device.

Ituun shook his head. “This is the only mission of this kind we will send out. There is no time for another one. So we have to place all the resources we can sensibly invest into this one mission.”

I grumbled. “And I assume sending two promising researchers off with a death machine is a small investment as far as the government is concerned.”

Ituun smiled approvingly. “If there is one thing our people have more than enough of to throw at a problem, it is warm bodies.”

He spread out his arms. “You are replaceable, and so is the head diplomat! Because who needs diplomats if the enemy does not negotiate? Your misgivings are misplaced, Ittoit, since I am standing right next to you on this cursed platform. The only difference between you and me is that I hold a certain amount of idealism when it comes to our people. I cannot change anything while staying here, but we might find an answer to our problem out there.”

He gestured towards something figurative in the distance.

I sighed and nodded reluctantly. “I won’t change my opinion of you. You are a zealot, and you got us into this mess. If you hadn’t mentioned our names to the higher-ups, neither Ittar nor I would be standing here. But I admit that, from a purely logical point of view, you have an argument there.”

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A few more unfortunate souls joined us on the platform, and we engaged our personal safety equipment. Aside from Ittar and me, there were ten in total. Our diplomat, Ituun, plus two language experts, and five guards. Of whom I knew none personally.

The scientists who were in control of the wormhole generator would do their best not to drop us to our deaths, but there was no such thing as perfect accuracy with experimental equipment.

Our suits and anti-gravitation parachutes should allow us to survive even if the wormhole happened to manifest some distance above ground.

The generator spun up below us, giving me an even worse feeling about this mission than I already had. Once the wormhole was ‘established’ and confirmed to lead to a place with a breathable atmosphere, the floor would drop away below us, and we would fall through.

“Please remind me why this death-machine is constructed in such a sinister manner?” Ittar complained.

“Something about ease of application,” I replied, wisely avoiding looking down. “They can avoid some additional complications with the planetary gravity, or something like that. I admit that I didn’t pay much attention eith- EEEEIIR!”

The floor dropped away from beneath my feet. Wasn’t there supposed to be a countdown!?

A moment later, I fell through the vortex of light beneath me, and I felt my parachute engage automatically. The device didn’t allow for true flight, so I still built up some tempo while tumbling through the air.

Before I could get the situation under control, I landed belly first and face down in a thin layer of cold snow.

Spluttering, I raised my head and spit out the snow which had found its way into my mouth and nostrils.

Ittar was on her bum, while Ituun had at least managed to land on all fours. The two language experts hadn’t fared much more elegantly. The only ones who landed on their feet were the five guards who presumably already had training with the parachute devices.

While the wormhole winked out of existence above us, I turned my attention to the icy tundra all around us. For a moment, I felt dread, fearing that the mission had already failed disastrously. That the experimental machine had dropped us on some forsaken world to die without any hope of ever returning home.

The scientists had promised us that they could backtrack the Tirnanogian’s wormhole connection points, but they hadn’t sounded like they were one hundred per cent certain of what they were doing.

My hopes only rose when my attention turned to the monolith-like pillars which surrounded the arrival site, and the rustic bunker that hinted at least at some intelligent occupation.

Several automated gun turrets with multiple barrels spun up, swivelled and aimed at us, each positioned on top of one of the eight pillars. To my chagrin, there was no cover anywhere in sight.

Thankfully, our guards were trained well and refrained from doing something stupid.

Ittar fumbled with her touchpad and almost dropped it. “Do not shoot! We are Trakken! Tirnanog! Aerie! Hochberg!”

I held my breath. So far, it wasn’t like we hadn’t expected something to this degree, but it was nonetheless distressing to have heavy ordnance aimed at me.

For a few heartbeats, nothing happened, but then the gun turrets disengaged and returned to a resting position.

Feeling already slightly light-headed, I finally dared to breathe again and slowly got to my feet. There was no need to agitate the ones who were in control of those cannons with hasty movements.

I turned my attention to the small bunker or fortress outside the arrival site. It was constructed from huge rocks which had clearly been mined out of a nearby quarry, then fit together seamlessly. Each ‘brick’ was larger than a Trakken, making me wonder how they had done it. The architects had fit them together like a gigantic puzzle, seemingly not following any standardised method.

One of the ‘bricks’ was L-shaped, while the one next to it fit around the bottom like a gigantic sideways U. It looked like the architects had started with the first arbitrary shape they got out of the quarry and continued to fit following blocks as needed.

The open quarry was clearly visible just about fifty metres away, and it looked like the construction had been very recent.

Suddenly, the earth outside the arrival zone cracked open, revealing a hidden underground tunnel. A piece of rock as high and wide as a Trakken was lifted up, the huge mass being casually used as a cover for the entrance.

A humongous man emerged from it, clad in armour from head to toe. His stature gave the impression that he might pick up one of those construction bricks, assuming he got help from another of his kind, which was supported by him holding up the cover with a single arm.

Once he was out, he looked down on us and, thanks to the open helmet, I could see him raise an eyebrow. “Trakken?”

“Yes!” Ittar and the two linguists stepped forward, giving their best to convey our identity. From his looks, he was almost certainly a Hochberg, but he was an even more impressive individual than the ones who had visited us on Trakken Prime.

The giant raised a hand and said something, ending it with Hochberg, confirming my assumption, even if I didn’t understand anything else.

I sighed in relief at the realisation that this was at the very least some kind of Tirnanogian outpost.

Ittar and the others nonetheless looked puzzled for a moment, but they eventually figured out what the giant wanted.

“I think we have to wait inside the bunker?” Ittar explained, not sounding like she was entirely sure of her translation. “There is some kind of ‘schedule’ to go forward? Anyway, it doesn’t sound like there is someone here who can make decisions regarding us. He said something about this being an outpost.”

Ituun nodded and gestured for us to follow the giant’s instructions. “Then don’t waste time. It is cold out here.”