"I'll have Professor Ricter take a look."

"There's one more thing," Juliet said. "I back tracked the ship that's coming toward us and I believe it originated close to the sphere."

"The ship that's coming to meet us came from there?"

"I'd bet good money on it."

"Thank you, Ensign; you've given us some valuable information. I'll be sure to make a special note in your record."

The beam on Juliet's face was more than enough to make Marjorie pleased and; for a moment, she forgot how much danger they were really in.

Chapter fifteen.

Captain Cook walked onto the smoky bridge of the Valentine. In front of her was Payton Cook, her ex-husband who died two years ago. It wasn't possible for him to be here. She knew she was dreaming but the image was so vivid she had to question it. The smoke filled her lungs, and she started coughing. People lay dead around her and when she stumbled over one of them she almost fell. She braced herself on a chair. The feel of the leather was uncanny.

Payton turned. "Marjorie, what are you doing here?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, confused. He looked exactly as he did the last time she saw him. He was standing in front of her; he was solid, and he was real. She reached out to touch his uniform. Her hand moved against the cold metals on his chest. She looked, astonished. "You can't be real."

"Neither can you," he said. "Get out of here!"

"I can't; this is a dream."

"Then you had better wake up." He turned to face a man who was standing next to him. "Commander, get the Captain out here!"

A man walked up to her and she pulled back. He was much taller than her. His hair was dark and neatly parted on the left side. His eyes looked at her, then through her. Power ebbed from this man and Marjorie felt afraid. "No, I will not leave the bridge."

The Commander stopped and tilted his head, then grinned. With speed she'd never seen before he slapped her across the face.

Her eyes snapped open and she found herself in the familiar surroundings of her bedroom. The smell of the burning bridge stung her nose and her heart raced. She rubbed her cheek, amazed it was actually throbbing with pain. She sat up, threw her legs over to side of the bed, stepped down and walked over to her mirror. The lights in the bathroom automatically turned on when they sensed her. After her eyes adjusted to the light she looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheek was fine, no red marks, no sign she had actually been hit yet it still stung.

The bottle of pills were in front of her and she picked them up, reading the label carefully, looking to see if vivid dreams were a side effect. They weren't and she shrugged. She went back to bed formulating the story she was going to tell Professor Ricter when she saw him. He of all people would find her dream fascinating.

The Dyson sphere filled the screen as they came out of wormhole space. The computer quickly calculated it was about 1.5 AU's from the central sun, the sun that it encased like an eggshell would encase the animal inside. A Dyson sphere absorbed all the energy from its star, nothing was wasted and nothing leaked into space.

Its gravity well was massive and the navigator had some trouble at first adjusting to it. Stabilizing engines ran at near full power just to keep the ship was falling into the well.

Captain Cook, along with half the crew, had crowded onto the observation deck to try and grasp just how large the sphere was. They were still almost two light years out and ship dominated their view. It was the only thing they could see when they looked at it. Its horizon was unseen. It was looked like and wall which had infinite height and length. The Arwen would never be able to get close to it, the gravity would pull them in and the Arwen would be a very tiny wreak on an impossibly large surface.

She was happy when the ship they were following approached a small platform. A tiny island orbiting a never-ending ocean.

"Captain," The communication officer said, "we are being contacted."

"Is it Captain Ruzoto?"

"Yes."

"Okay, put him through." Marjorie paused until the communication officer nodded. "This is Captain Cook."

"Captain!" The voice said, still no image on her monitor. "It's good to finally talk to you live. How was your trip?"

"Fine," she replied. "Are you on that platform?"

"Yes I am! I'm so excited to meet you. Tell me Captain, how many years have passed on Earth?"

"You might be shocked, are you sure you want to know?"

"I know it's been a long time so I'm ready for just about any answer."

"It's been about 400 years."

He let out a loud sigh, and then in a cheerful voice replied. "Not as bad as I thought. Well, I look forward to seeing you. You should be at my station in about three hours."

"Captain Ruzoto," Marjorie said. "We came all this way and I'm afraid it wasn't for a social visit. Can you tell me anything before I proceed? We've been in space for months and are all eager to get back home. So far, all we have to go on is your word."

"I understand," he replied. "I've been here for a very long time and I've learned an awful lot about the Handlers."

"The Handlers?"

"Oh, my name for the aliens that are holding me here. They tried to tell me what they call themselves but it didn't translate into anything I could say so I called them the Handlers."

"Are they my enemy?" Captain Cook asked. Her instincts were screaming to leave. If they were the enemy she needed to know them and she needed to get information back to the Corp.

"I really can't tell you anything more right now. Please, come see me and I'll explain." He turned the radio off.

Captain Cook found herself in a room, empty except for a table and two chairs. The walls around her were white. The ceiling was white and seemed to be the source of the soft light.

A door opened from a seamless wall and in walked a man. It was the same man who had slapped her in her last nightmare. He wore a navy suit with a red, white and blue tie. His pants were black. He carried a clipboard in his left hand and a pen in his right. He looked up at Marjorie and smiled. The smile did little to defuse the alarm sounding loudly in Marjorie's head. She took a step back, looking for a place to run. "Please, have a seat, we need to talk."

"Who are you?" She asked.

"Take a seat. I'll be the one who asks the questions, and you'll be the one to answer. Now, sit."

Captain Cook found she wasn't able to resist the command. It was as if she had been conditioned to do what he told her and answer any question he might have. She took the seat and folded her hands across the desk.

He looked at the clipboard, then up at her. "What is your name?"

"Marjorie Cook," she replied.

"And what is your rank?"

"Captain," she tried not to answer; she tried to resist but wasn't able too. She was helpless in her own mind.

"And where are you from?"

"Earth."

"And where is Earth?"

She hesitated, not sure how to answer the question. She wanted to; her mind was telling her to answer. She felt if she didn't answer soon something would happen. The anticipation caused her to shake.

He cocked his head as if listening to something. "You don't need to tell us, we'll find it soon enough. What is your purpose being out in space?"

"Exploration, finding new races and determining if they're a threat or a friend."

"Good," he replied leaning across the table. He was right up into her face. She felt his breath against her cheek and could smell his odd body odor. It wasn't natural and unlike anything she had smelled before. "We look forward to seeing how this is all going to work out."

She opened her eyes and found she was sweating. The dream, what was it about It was fading and she tried to grab onto it, tried to hold onto the images, the man, the table, the questions but by the time she had made it to her bathroom it had all faded. All she had was the lingering feeling she was forgetting something important.

Chapter sixteen.

Newman Ruzoto stood on the massive platform and waited. Above him a magnificent sight he got used to hundreds of years ago. The Pleiades star cluster was so dense with starts it was impossible to see anything beyond them. Some stars were almost as large as the full moon on Earth and just as dim. In some sections of the sky the stars were to close and it was hard to distinguish them. He saw seven binary stars and three trinary stars. He saw the remnants of a star that had exploded not too long after he arrived. The dust from that star spread further each year. It made some of the background stars blurry and hard to see. He knew most of these stars had worlds around them, worlds the Handlers where in the process of encasing.

The stars bored him. His attention now focused on the most magnificent sight he'd seen since his arrival. A ship from Earth, a beautiful dart shaped, mirror surfaced ship.

Newman could hardly believe it when the Handlers told him they had an Earth ship trapped on one of their water planets. He knew they used those planets to attract space faring races. Here was an Earth ship, he would see his first human face other than his own in over 400 years. It made him excited, and that excitement was all that was holding back his sadness. Even though the crew didn't know it the fate of Earth was now sealed.

The ship passed through the low-energy force field that surrounded the platform. As the last of it passed through it created a ripple which lightly touched the ground and rebounded up toward the point of impact. He could see the ship wasn't a perfect mirror; it suffered some unrepaired damage. There were many gaps in the mirrors, many places that were battleship grey. He smiled and wondered if that was a coincidence or if the navy still used that color for their ships like they did in his time.

He tried not to think of his home world and its fate. It was a world he no longer related too. He remembered shoveling snow from his front steps and playing football in the park with his friends, even if he couldn't recall any of their names, the name of the park or the address where he once lived. All that was gone. Even if he were to return to Earth before the end he would still not be able to visit those people or see his old house.

From somewhere underneath several magnetic anchors shot out and attached themselves to the surface. The engines stopped and the chain retracted, pulling the large ship downward. The size of it amazed him. The only thing he's ever seen that was as large was a super aircraft carrier. He estimated it must carry thousands of people. He tried to understand what kind of ship it was. Was it an aircraft carrier, a battleship, some sort of cruiser or escort ship? Judging by the sheer size he figured it was powerful no matter what it was designed for.

The uniform he made was too tight. It'd been a long time since he had to make his own clothes, and he did his best to remember his measurements. The Handlers fed him well but, no matter how much he ate, or how little for that matter, he always kept the same weight. He was proud of the uniform he made. It was white with white dress pants and a pair of uncomfortable white shoes. Under his arm was a white hat with a blue trim. The tie was black and tied tight. When he looked at himself in the mirror it brought back memories he hadn't thought about in four centuries.

A cloud of steam blew out from under the ship. The breeze rustled his dark hair, neatly trimmed after years of growth. He decided to shave the beard as well, the last thing he wanted was to look like a deranged comic book writer. He remembered how important a first impression was. He needed their trust just as much as he needed their company.

The ship stopped for several long moments and there was nothing but silence. From under the ship a port slide open and a craft floated out on a plume of fire. Like the ship it was mirrored. Unlike the ship it was flat on top with a smooth, curved bottom. From the back several engines fired and moved toward him. It hovered over his head. He felt the heat from the engines on his cheek and had to turn away. It lowered itself to the ground; several leg struts slide out and it landed gently. Once again, there was silence.

The unmistakable sound of a something lowering came from the back, out if his site. He leaned to the right trying to see if he could spot anything. Moments later he saw three figures turn the corner and walk toward him. It was a man, a woman and a. . .he wasn't sure.

The man was tall and he wondered if the trend for humans to evolve taller had come true. He was older, maybe in his mid to late fifties. His hair was white gray, neatly parted to one side. He wore a black suit with a red tie. He walked with confidence and, even from a distance, Newman knew this man was in command.

The woman was also older, maybe in her sixties. She wore a military uniform, dark blue with a white kerchief. She had a hat which she held under her arm. Her hair was long and pulled back into a pony tail. It was grey and black, as if someone had sprinkled salt and pepper into her hair. She was short; he guessed around 5 feet 3 yet, it seemed as if she were carrying herself as if she were as tall and the man next to her.

The thing next to her was hard to look at. At first, he thought it might be a deformed child but his mind readjusted and he knew it must have been an alien. It was small and stocky. If were any taller than four feet he would be surprised. It carried itself with power though, almost like a walking wall. It was shoe polish brown, the kind of brown he remembered from his home town's football team. Its head sat below two shoulders. It looked like a cartoon character after someone hit it in the head with a sledge hammer. It waddled as it walked. What really struck Newman as odd, funny, and just plain weird were the clothes it wore. It mirrored those of the woman, dark blue military uniform but, since it didn't seem to have a neck, it wore the kerchief tied to its right arm.

They walked up to him and stopped. The woman reached out with her hand and said, "Hello, I'm Captain Marjorie Cook. It's good to meet you Captain Ruzoto."

"Captain," he said shaking her hand. "It's good to meet you."

"I'd like you to meet Professor Theo Ricter."

Professor Ricter reached out and shook Captain Ruzuto's hand. "It's a pleasure."

"And Commander Pippleton."

"Commander?" He said looked down at the outstretched hand of the alien. He took it. It was cold and reminded him of rough sandpaper. "So, you're an officer?"

"Yes," Commander Pippleton said. "I am the first Ulliam officer."

"Ulliam?" Newman said pulling his hand away. He had the urge to wipe it on his pants but knew that might be rude.

"It's a planet about thirty light years from Earth," The Professor said. "We'd be more than happy to catch you up, but maybe here isn't the best time or place."

"Oh, right." Ruzoto replied. "I haven't had guests in a few hundred years. Come, I'll show you around."

"I need to head back," Commander Pippleton said.

"Oh?"

"Yes. It was good to meet you Captain. I hope we talk to you again soon."

"Well, um- okay. Professor Ricter, Captain Cook, follow me please."

Marjorie leaned over to the Professor and whispered. "Didn't he seem more cheerful in his messages?"

Professor Ricter shrugged. "It was a performance. Anyone can be cheerful when they're performing."

Captain Ruzoto held his hand out in a sweeping motion. "This is where they put me after they found my ship. Do they know what happened to me on Earth?"

"No," Captain Cook said, "all we got was a garbled message, then nothing."

"Well, that makes sense, I suppose." He said sadly. "What happened was pretty simple. I had an engine malfunction. Once I left the Asteroid belt and was clear I activated the main engines and wasn't able to turn them off again."

They passed through a door and into a brightly light hallway. "So you just drifted out of the solar system?" Captain Cook asked.