Humans are naturally curious. Imagine, for a moment, a stone that kills everyone who touches it. Every living animal that sees one of their pack members killed by that stone will avoid it.

  Not so a human.

  For a human, something he doesn’t understand or can’t use is like a missing tooth—always there in his mind, reminding him of that hole. And one day or another, humans will analyze that stone, and probably die in the process.

  Wait a hundred years, and you’ll have an army of humans armed with stone weapons. And you’ll ask yourself, Why didn’t I think of that?

  Excerpt from: The Aligned Worlds – The Enemy at Our Gates, Galactic Federation 23 P.I.

  Sokra sat in the co-pilot’s seat of the human Sleipnir transporter. She wasn’t a pilot, but as a Renthai—or scientist, as humans would call it—she was amazed by human technology.

  At first, she had thought, like most other Shraphen, that human technology was inherently primitive. That belief held until she and her fellow Renthai studied the effects of the so-called Doomshot, the weapon the human fleet had used to take out the Batract spawn in the foothills of the Bonewhite Mountains.

  That experience had opened her mind. Human technology and science were completely different from Shraphen approaches—not better or worse, but utterly alien. The simple fact that two species could develop such different methods within the same set of natural laws was fascinating in itself. And according to historical data, humans had been FTL-capable for only about fifty years.

  When she heard that the humans were starting an expedition to Marjan’s Star, she knew she had to join them—to live and work among humans and study a completely unheard-of spacetime anomaly. The chance of a lifetime.

  Thanks to her connections within the small scientific community on Taishon Tar, she had been chosen. Without her even realizing it, the humans had asked for Shraphen scientists who would like to join.

  They were unlike any other species she knew—so open in sharing, so welcoming.

  Now she couldn’t hide her excitement. The new human fleets in the system had been explicitly refitted to take Shraphen physiology into account—again, so welcoming! Even the seat in the transporter had openings to fit a Shraphen tail.

  Her tail wagged the whole time, and more than once she caught herself panting. The pilot—a young Shratai, a human—glanced over at her more than once with a smile.

  “Everything alright, ma’am?”

  The simple fact that they understood each other was a testament to human genius. Shraphen had universal translators—slow, error-prone devices worn as earplugs. Humans, however, had developed a biological solution that, once attached to the head, allowed the learning and understanding of a programmed alien language within minutes. She could speak in Shra, and the human could speak in English; they understood each other perfectly.

  Brilliant—and a bit creepy.

  “Yes, I’m just very excited to go on this mission.”

  The pilot laughed. “I can see your tail wagging like crazy. I hope I don’t embarrass you, but you remind me of my dog when we drove to the dog park.”

  “Oh, not at all! Are there dogs on board? I would love to see one firsthand.” She almost had forgotten—humans could read shraphen body language as easily as shraphen could read their scent.

  “No, ma’am, I’d love to have mine with me, but on the other hand, that would be too dangerous for him. They’re talking about bringing some to the space station once it’s ready.”

  She tried to hide her disappointment but kept hope that she would meet one on the station—or visit Earth someday.

  “We’re close to the Magellan, our destination. I have to say, for a science ship, it’s a beauty.”

  The pilot pointed to a distant dot in the blackness of space.

  “Can you tell me something about it? I couldn’t find anything about her—just that she arrived yesterday.”

  “The Magellan—it’s the brainchild of her captain, Liam Smith. He fought tooth and nail to get her through Congress. The idea of a military science cruiser wasn’t exactly high on the budget.”

  Sokra could imagine it; in times of war, budgets were always focused on weapons, not exploration.

  “Then the Hyperion ripped a hole through the universe. Did you know we saw the event from Earth, even though the light from it shouldn’t have reached us for eight years?”

  Her ears stood upright now. She hadn’t known that. Fascinating.

  “Well, then, suddenly, he got what he wished for—a brand-new ship hull. The BC-305 was rerouted and rebuilt to fit everything a scientist could wish for. And there she is—the Magellan—armed like a cruiser and smarter than CERN and NASA combined.”

  Looking out the window again, she could see more now. The ship resembled the famous Argos, featuring a sleek body and a thicker hull at the center to accommodate the flight deck. In the middle of the ship stood the same renowned railgun, capable of firing faster than light.

  Before she could soak in more details, a door opened on the side of the ship, allowing the transporter to enter. The last thing Sokra saw was the illuminated name on the side of the hull: ASN Magellan BC-305/EX, written in golden letters.

  After the transport had docked, she stepped onto the flight deck. Everything seemed orderly; a thick scent of synthetic oils and fuel filled the air—but that was expected.

  A human with a gray beard and short gray hair seemed to have been waiting for her.

  “Hello, you must be Renthai Sokra. I’m Captain Smith. Welcome to the Magellan.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  ——————

  The first day passed in a blur. Sokra was shown to her quarters—a large cabin with a small office. Then she met the other scientists aboard.

  The crew included a small colony of about a hundred Gliders. Sokra immediately fell in love with all of them—such funny little guys.

  To her astonishment, the ship even had a large arboretum. According to Lieutenant Commander Cho, the first officer, the Magellan had more than enough space since it didn’t need the room other cruisers required for their marine detachments. Usually, ships like the Magellan carried around a thousand marines; this one had only thirty.

  She loved the ship. The scientific laboratories were efficient and modern, and everything had a brand-new smell.

  To symbolize the vessel's exploratory nature, the scientists placed a large control node directly behind the bridge. Cho had explained that on the Argos, this space was used as the CIC. That’s why it was called the SIC aboard the Magellan—the Scientific Information Center.

  She spent the whole evening chatting with Doctor Hunter—an engineer—and Ferdinand, the ship’s VI. The fact that something like a scientific VI even existed amazed her.

  The next day, the ship transitioned to Marjan’s Star.

  They reached the anomaly within thirty minutes. The readouts were all over the place.

  On the screen, they could see the “star” for the first time up close. One of Magellan’s googly eyes captured an image that made everyone stare.

  It showed the massive ship from behind, dwarfed by a ring of white light in the background. The inside of the ring was sharp; the outside looked like pure white flames flickering into the dark. Inside the ring was nothing—not even stars could be seen.

  “It’s like a fairy ring from the legends.” It was Professor Brian, the head of Astronomy, who spoke in awe and brought everyone back into the here and now.

  “Astrometric measurements are in—the ring has an inner diameter of one hundred twelve thousand eight hundred kilometers,” Ferdinand reported.

  “We’re holding position one hundred thousand kilometers from the anomaly.”

  Captain Smith was in the SIC; Sokra had learned he was a somewhat famous physicist on Earth. He had once worked at a company called Drake, where he designed the micro A-Drive.

  “Okay, people, let’s start with a spectro analysis and prepare a probe. Let’s see what happened here.”

  His tone was commanding, but she could smell and see his childlike curiosity. Everyone on the team wore the same expression.

  Focusing on her console, she checked the rate of exotic particles—and was immediately shocked.

  Sokra didn’t know how human procedure worked, but this was important. “Captain, the anomaly is radiating protomatter at an alarming rate—nothing I’ve ever seen before. I expect the hull will soon be covered with it.”

  Smith turned around. “How much is much?”

  She knew humans used protomatter as if it were a toy—but those levels would make even them nervous.

  “At the moment, the front of the ship is already covered in thirty millimeters.”

  “After less than two minutes?” Smith pressed a button on his communicator. “Cho, raise the magnetic field—we’re being showered in protomatter.”

  Lieutenant Commander Cho, who was on the bridge, simply answered, “Aye, sir.”

  Sokra watched her readouts as the field expanded to cover the ship, redirecting the protomatter safely around it.

  By focusing on the particle stream scans, she discovered the source of the white light.

  “The flames we see are protomatter falling back into the anomaly and evaporating, creating photons and virtual particles.”

  “This is a fascinating find. With some preparations, we could build a station here to capture protomatter and use it in all kinds of ways.”

  Doctor Hunter’s background in engineering was evident—even in proximity to this wonder.

  “Sir, I’m scanning for anything inside the ring… there’s nothing. Except for the constant stream of protomatter, we can’t detect anything,” Doctor Vauban, the head of Astrophysics, reported.

  “What do you mean, nothing? There must be something—Hawking radiation, gravity, even simple cosmic background radiation.” Captain Smith moved to Vauban’s station.

  “We’re not even detecting a Higgs-boson field inside the ring. It’s as if the ring breaks through spacetime into something… different.” The doctor was covered in a cloud of stress hormones Sokra could smell halfway through the SIC.

  She focused on her station. She was an exotic-particles specialist, and if the ring was a rift of sorts, there had to be a way to prove it.

  What was the first thing we noticed? Protomatter.

  What is protomatter? It’s prebaryonic phase condensate—it exists halfway between virtual and baryonic matter.

  The ring itself was protomatter, either forming into photons or devolving into virtual particles.

  Where does it come from? Theories describe protomatter forming when virtual particles seep through the spacetime membrane.

  Slowly, the hairs on her back began to rise as she realized where her reasoning would lead.

  “Sir, we should move away from the anomaly. If what I’m reading here is correct, we’re looking at a rift between the layers of the dimensional membranes.”

  Fear and horror crept into her. The screen didn’t show something safe and fascinating—it showed a rift in reality.

  “I concur,” came from Vauban’s station. “We’re seeing the universe before the Big Bang here—space, time, and reality have no meaning behind this anomaly.”

  The captain touched his communicator. “Cho, move the ship away from the anomaly—half-G acceleration for another hundred thousand kilometers.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Sokra checked her readings and saw, with relief, that the protomatter rate was sinking. Something about the anomaly was equal parts fascinating and horrifying.

  The console beeped, and what the readouts showed shocked Sokra deeply. Her tail lashed once, an instinctive warning she couldn’t suppress.

  “Sir, protomatter rate is rising again!”

  With a gesture, the captain focused the main view on the ship’s forward cameras. It showed a ring of white fire.

  “Stop the ship!” The brusque order to the bridge was followed immediately.

  On the secondary screens, the rear view also showed a ring.

  “What the hell?” Professor Brian brought up another screen from different astrometric sensors. It showed the now-dreaded ring—but when he rewound the stream, the picture morphed back into the usual starfield.

  “We’re seeing a ripple in spacetime, sir—see?” he began explaining. “If we focus our attention here, you’ll see the ring in every direction—it’s the same one.”

  He zoomed in on the ‘flames’ at a segment of the upper outer boundary and on a segment of the lower boundary on another screen. They mirrored each other.

  “Sir, probes confirm—we reach the anomaly no matter the direction we move.”

  “Okay, pause for a moment. Let’s think this through. We’re inside the anomaly already?” The captain stood in the SIC, looking every scientist directly in the eyes.

  “It seems that way.”

  I could draw a diagram of the space around us, if we had a four-dimensional screen—but it’s safe to say space around us is bent in a way that resembles a M?bius band in three dimensions, Ferdinand, the ship’s VI, reported.

  “Thank you. Very helpful,” the captain said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

  You’re welcome, Captain, Ferdinand replied, seemingly immune to the captain’s sarcastic tone.

  “So, let me state the obvious: how do we get out?” Doctor Vauban interjected, his voice barely hiding his fear.

  Sokra understood the French scientist perfectly; she almost couldn't concentrate on her work, her tail was constantly tucked between her legs, and her ears were folded backwards in a way that almost hurt.

  The captain focused on the simple diagram Ferdinand displayed—a constantly moving M?bius band, always leading back to the ring.

  “To get out, we have to find out how we got in.”

  She had to admit, the calm concentration of Captain Smith helped her focus. How did we get in? It must have been while in transit—or shortly after.

  Checking the sensor logs of the flight, she found what she was looking for: a short spike in the Casimir sensors. The pressure of virtual particles spiked exactly as the ship ended its transit.

  That was a hint—but it could have been a normal spike on human ships; their A-drive worked a bit differently. So Sokra checked the logs of earlier exits from transit. Nothing.

  The Casimir sensors measured the local density of virtual particles by using two closely spaced parallel metal plates in a vacuum. The plates were constantly pressed closer together by quantum fluctuations.

  To get this spike, those fluctuations must have risen considerably. She had her answer.

  “We pierced the bubble when we exited FTL transit. We came out of transit too close to the anomaly, and our collapsing spacetime bubble was swallowed—together with us.”

  The room went silent.

  The answer was obvious: they had to go to transit, inside a probably unstable space-time anomaly, close to a literal tear in reality. What could go wrong?