God's Dogs Book 2

Psychic power is the ability to download information directly from the Universe.

Lada Ray

Their stay at Shentong Temple was brief. Master Lu sent them out after a few weeks. He told them what he knew of their new mission in his office.

“The request is from the Hurangs,” Lu said as they sat in the alcove next to his desk. “Those are the bear-like creatures, I believe.”

“Yep,” Moss confirmed. “They are quiet, thoughtful, and good fighters.”

“Thank you,” Lu murmured. “The request is on behalf of one of the races they sponsor.

“This race, the Sangalore, uses a different form of FTL that includes both sails and some kind of telekinesis. Their ships also traverse a different type of non-normal space. Whatever it is, it isn’t hyperspace.”

“Well, I guess there is more than one way to skin a cat,” Moss observed.

“Yes,” Lu murmured again and went on, “Pirates are knocking their ships out of FTL and looting them in normal space.”

“How could we help with that problem?” Quinn asked.

“Apparently, it’s a psychic attack that knocks them into normal space.”

“Interesting,” Pax said. “The pirates found a way to cancel or alter telekinesis.”

“It would appear so, but much of what we received with the request was unclear.”

River asked, “Should we take one of the masters with us?”

“Yes. Someone versed in telekinesis and related topics. She is a retired master, Anaya is her name, and she is willing to accompany you.”

That afternoon, Anaya was waiting for them at the small spaceport next to the Coyote wing. She stood, with Satya in the background, gazing off at the mountains.

Anaya was a short, sleight woman with a thick head of gray hair that hung in a ponytail. Her face was even-featured, creased with wrinkles, and showed evidence of a faded, rugged beauty. She was dressed in a blue ship-suit, and her yogini body was obvious. A medium-sized travel bag sat at her feet.

She turned as the team approached and offered a one-handed Namaste, bowing slightly as she spoke the word of greeting.

The team returned it with both hands in prayer position at their chests.

“Welcome to the team,” Moss blurted out.

Her voice was a rich alto. “Thank you, Coyote Moss. I do hope you keep me out of harm’s way.”

Moss grinned. “Well, we are going pirate hunting.”

Quinn’s implant triggered the ship’s ramp and they boarded. Captain John Twin Bears met them at the second level where the cabins were located. A female ensign was with him and escorted Anaya to her room.

“Captain,” Quinn greeted the tall, imposing figure. “Looks like pirate hunting.”

“I find this different FTL concept more intriguing than pirate hunting.”

“Well, you are more the astrophysicist than we are.”

“I’ve got the coordinates for the planet, and the clearances to use the gateways. We should get there in about ten days.”

Quinn nodded. Then he said, “I don’t know how Master Anaya will deal with space travel.”

The captain chuckled. “I guess she retired before your time. Anaya was on one of the first-contact ships. She’s somewhat of a legend in the exploration fleet.”

Quinn smiled and easily recovered from his ignorance. “Well, I hope she’s a story teller. I’d like to hear about that.”

“From all reports, she is,” the captain said and headed for the bridge.

The ten-day flight was eventful only because of the story telling. The crew galley hosted an evening of it every night. Anaya traded story telling with the Coyotes, and Satya’s crew listened in.

Anaya’s stories included harrowing escapes from space anomalies, encounters with hostile flora and fauna on distant worlds, heated arguments with League bureaucrats, and discontent – even sabotage – in the crew of the ships she sailed on.

Not once, though, did she refer to her psychic powers, which sparked River’s curiosity enough that she confronted the Indian woman at breakfast one morning.

It was early and few were in the galley. River filled a tray and sat with Anaya.

“Good morning,” Anaya greeted. “What’s on your mind, River?”

Soft, welcoming brown eyes softened the challenge, and River replied, “Are you a mind reader, too?”

“I leave that to empaths like you and Pax. I am old, though, with a long life of reading situations and people.”

“I am curious about your psychic abilities. We don’t emphasize it in our training. It’s commented on, but apparently requires a different type of training.”

“That’s correct. The basics of it are in the Yoga Aphorism of Patanjali. With the cross-fertilization of other traditions, we were able to refine the training. Still, the powers that can come under conscious control are not powers we want to see in undisciplined or emotionally immature hands.”

“That makes sense,” River said as she started in on her pancakes. “But I’ve never heard of this training program.”

“It’s by invitation only. The leadership of each temple chooses who will attend those classes, which are also at the temples.”

“Do you get to use those powers?”

“We’re part of Penglai Foreign Service, like the Coyotes. Some of the awards on Coyote Wall are actually our people.”

“Wow. I didn’t have any idea.”

“Or a need to know,” Anaya said and smiled. “Now you do.

River thought for a moment before saying, “Moss knows you.”

“He does. When he led a team during the war, I was assigned to his team for a certain operation.”

“Okay,” River breathed, her intuition confirmed, and continued with her breakfast. “What kind of powers are we talking about?”

“Telekinesis, for certain. But the focus of one’s meditation is what comes under control.”

River paused mid-bite. “That’s true in all meditation. I focus on the mind, and it comes under control.”

“True, and if I focus on being in two places at once….”

“I see. So telekinesis is acquired by focusing on the movement of objects.”

“Close enough,” Anaya said. “What concerns me is how the pirates are interrupting it.”

“Wouldn’t that depend on how the Sangalore are producing it?”

“Of course, and that will be our first line of inquiry. How do they produce the telekinetic effect?”

Captain John entered the galley and caught the last part of the conversation and added, “It would also depend on where in the multi-verse it took place.”

Anaya smiled. “We speculate there are ten dimensions to our universe. Hyperspace is one of them. The Sangalore use a different one. It will be intriguing to see what the physicists say about it.”

“It will,” the captain said as he filled his coffee mug. “String theory holds it all together, but each dimension offers different manifestations of the four forces.”

River knew that string theory was loosely correlated to the theories about qi, and manipulating qi seemed to be how telekinesis worked. She hadn’t been schooled in how string theory compared to qi theory; that was a separate branch of physics people like Raina studied. What struck her, though, was the possibility for how the qi-field might be different in the dimension the Sangalore used.

Anaya was saying, “We will soon see what that means, captain.”

The following day, they arrived at Sanga, the home planet of the Sangalore, and set course for the main space station in orbit around the green and blue planet.

The starfish pattern, as it was called, was an evolutionary winner. One head, two arms, and two legs around a torso was common throughout the Galactic Congress. The Sangolore fit the pattern, but the details produced momentary confusion in humans.

They wore simple trousers and pullover tunics of soft colors. Their skin, though, was slick and eel-like, as were their rounded heads. The skin coloring was dappled for some, black for others, and different combinations of the two.

From the briefing material, they knew the Sangalore were semi-aquatic, and when Quinn looked closely at the group that met them at the space dock, he could see the gill slits on their long necks.

Anaya pushed to the front and said, “Greetings from our world to yours. I am with the Coyote team you requested.”

One of the Sangalore nodded once and replied, “We are the pod that welcomes you and prepares you for battle.”

Then he turned, the other four following him, and walked with fluid grace down the docking bay.

“I guess we follow,” Anaya said with a chuckle.

They exited the docking bay to the space station proper and ascended two decks to a conference room.

The humidity was higher than humans preferred, and it was cool as well. The seating was around an oval table with straight-backed chairs.

One of the Sangalore spoke, “What do you need to know so that you can complete your contract?”

“I have a list,” Quinn answered and pushed a data pad across the table. It was a standard Galactic Congress pad.

A different Sangalore took the pad and reviewed the list.

After a few moments, he said, “The Anaya-being will accompany Suth Third to the guild hall for instruction. The captain-being will meet here with Engineer Fifth in two hours. The Coyote team will meet the ship Wave Rider after this meeting.”

“Agreed,” Quinn said.

The Sangalore rose and left the room. Anaya stood to accompany them, and one of them extended his hand. The team rose as well, and Quinn’s internal HUD flashed the docking location of the Wave Rider.”

“Somewhat lacking in social skills,” Moss remarked as they headed to the ship.

Quinn grunted as Pax said, “Maybe the spacers are more cordial.”

The plan Quinn outlined on the pad he gave the Sangalore delegation was for the captain to learn about the workings of the different FTL the Sangalore used, and for Anaya to learn of their from of telekinesis. He wasn’t sure those were necessary, but it was not like him to leave loose ends.

The main plan was to park the Satya in one of the freighters so that when it was knocked out of FTL, the Satya would fly out of the freighter and defeat the pirate ship. Assuming they didn’t destroy it, the team would board and take the pirate ship. With the ship and a captured crew, they should be able to piece together the how, why, and who of the pirate operation.

The Wave Rider was the freighter the Sangalore dedicated to the mission. The team approached the docking gate and the door guard stood to receive them.

“I’m Quinn. Your ship is our ride for the pirate operation. I would like to talk to the captain.”

The crewman grinned, which showed triangular shaped teeth. Quinn figured it was for catching and eating fish.

“You done with the bosses?”

“Yes,” Quinn replied.

Pax said, “You’re enjoying this, crewman. What’s the joke?”

“Spacers aren’t like the bosses. They don’t like us much because we’re free of their control. They don’t like you either because it shows they’re not in control. Gave you a rough time, I suppose.”

“It was abrupt,” Quinn allowed.

A hissing form of laughter ensued as the crewman punched a code to open the hatch.

“Third deck up and to your left. Captain is in his ready room.”

The team entered the ship through two airlocks. Inside was a short hallway with pressure suits hanging in open closets. Into the main corridor there were stairs leading up and down as well as a substantial passageway leading fore and aft.

The ship was clean, if humid and cool. The crew they passed wore clean ship suits and nodded politely as they passed. It wasn’t a new ship, though, but appeared to be a well-maintained one with a professional crew.

The walls on each deck they passed through were painted a different shade of blue, and they wondered what the significance was. Moss figured it denoted different ocean layers that helped the crew stay grounded. Although, ‘grounded’ wouldn’t be the right verb.

They were still chuckling over alternative verbs when they reached the ready room.

Quinn pressed the door buzzer and the door slid open.

“Welcome,” a bigger than average Sangalore with dark brown spots on his slick black hide boomed at them. “Come in and sit with me. I am Captain Screech.” He hissed a laugh and explained, “That’s what the other land dwelling races call me, since my real name sounds like a screech to them.”

The team sat at the table as the captain went on, “We’re glad you’re here, but we had to use the force of the Merchant Guild to make it happen. The government is a bit xenophobic.”

Moss responded, “We noticed that. They didn’t even give us names, only job descriptions.”

The captain hissed again and nodded in understanding.

Quinn said, “I’m team lead Quinn, and these are Moss, Pax, and River. Do you have an idea on how we should do this?”

The captain nodded again and answered, “I’m glad to meet you and pleasantly surprised you would ask my recommendations.”

“You know the problem,” Quinn said. “You know your ship.”

“I do, but my experience with authority figures is that they know all the answers.”

Moss grinned. “We’re not authority figures. In fact, I think we share your dislike of them.”

The hissing laughter was the response, but the captain went on, “My ship is the engine that pulls a train of cargo containers. It takes a while to get up to the speed necessary for transition to FTL, because of the mass involved. Once in FTL, we deploy our sails until we reach our destination. When we exit FTL, we reposition the ship for the long braking maneuver to our destination.”

“How do you transition?” River asked.

“The Suth does it,” the captain said. “You land dwellers call him a space-mage. He has his own room with connection nodes to the hull of the ship. More nodes are on the hull to create a web around the whole ship. Once he brings the web online, he shifts us to FTL and back to normal space.”

“What kind of nodes?” Pax asked.

“Some kind of crystal that enhances his power,” the captain replied. “That’s the part that has us baffled. How can the pirates knock us out of FTL without connecting to the crystal matrix?”

“Maybe they do,” Quinn said, “but we don’t know how yet.”

“The Suth Guild says it’s not possible.”

“FTL was impossible once,” Pax countered.

“True enough,” the captain went on. “What I think you should do is this: We dock your ship inside mine. When they bump us our of FTL, we turn you loose on them.”

Quinn smiled. Things went so much easier when the people he worked for thought up the same plan he was going to use.