Bridge Across the Stars: A Sci-Fi Bridge Original Anthology

by Rhett C. Bruno

  “I don’t know,” Vongst finally said. “I’ve never thought of that before.”

  8

  On his next walk across the asteroid’s surface, Vongst focused less on the ships extending out from the rock and instead centered his attention on the few craters he could see from where he was standing. Each one was roughly the same size as the frame of a giant vessel, half a mile wide and three miles long. Each marked the place where an explorer or researcher had grown careless or else tested another unsuccessful theory about how to breach the ships’ self-destruction sensors.

  Each crater was initially smooth after the blast. Only after additional space debris pelted it did it begin to look like the rest of the asteroid again. Vongst marveled at the technology that had seemingly put ships into the rock without any rhyme or reason, yet had a self-destruct capability so intelligent that it never destroyed other ships encased in the rock or nearby segments of the asteroid. A previous expedition to the Gordian had focused an entire year on the results on those blasts.

  Of course, every possible idea, every part of the asteroid, had been dissected at length. Each organized excavation attempt and research study had taken different approaches. In an attempt to find secret doors or internal corridors buried underneath the initial layer of rock, one mission had focused on x-raying the entire asteroid. Another had sent microscopic organisms onto the stone to see if they could find a way into the ships. Sound waves. Controlled explosives. All of it had been done, and none of it had succeeded in finding a means of boarding one of the ships or a way to free them from the stone.

  Vongst cringed. All he had was a suit of standard-issue space armor.

  “And my mind,” he said before cursing under his breath and hoping Tragedy didn’t bother to ask what he was talking about.

  He thought of Dr. Phillips again. In addition to being the lead researcher in charge at the Outer Rim Scientific Station, the wormlike alien with thousands of tiny legs was also Vongst’s boss. Upon hearing Vongst’s request for funding to go to the Gordian Asteroid, Dr. Phillips had offered a series of gurgled noises. The sounds were translated into Basic and then spoken from a speaker hooked to Vongst’s ear.

  “What equipment will you be taking?”

  Vongst had smiled. “Just my mind.”

  Another series of noises was translated into, “I don’t understand, my dear Dr. Vongst.”

  Vongst had shrugged and shaken his head. “I don’t think technology will be the reason those ships are freed from the asteroid. I think whoever encased them in rock was so advanced that there’s nothing I can do with a sensor or a shiny piece of equipment that will solve the Gordian puzzle.”

  Dr. Phillips had offered another series of gurgled noises.

  The computerized, monotone voice had said, “Then why are you requesting funding? What will you do?”

  Vongst had closed his eyes for a moment. When he re-opened them he said, “I just think if I can go there I might be able to see something that someone else has missed. Maybe eyes and ears and hands are better than fancy scanners.”

  The pair of bulbous black eyes across from him had grown wide at the comment, and Dr. Phillips had laughed. His hundreds of tiny legs involuntarily moved in a swirl of waves.

  Vongst held his breath. At seventeen, he had solved the Arcadian Riddle. Four years later, at the university, he had found an alternate solution to the Mercicuan Problem. Now, at the twilight of his career, he wanted lightning to strike for a third time.

  When Dr. Phillips had finished laughing, he didn’t speak. Instead, he had merely nodded. The smile that had crossed Vongst’s face was larger than any he had offered in a long time.

  “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

  Now that Vongst was on the asteroid, however, things were different. It was true that he possessed a brilliant mind. Age had ravaged his body but not his brain. But he had been foolish to think he could simply observe the rocks and the ships and figure something out that no one else had managed to ascertain.

  He approached a large expanse of metal protruding from rock. It towered two hundred feet above his head. Every part of it was smooth.

  “They thought the Arcadian Riddle would never be solved,” he mumbled.

  The metal fingers of his glove lightly ran across the ship’s surface. He tapped a knuckle against it. It made no sound, not in space, but he was more concerned with how it felt.

  “They said the Mercicuan Problem only had one answer,” he whispered.

  His knuckles continued to tap the ship as he walked in a large triangle around the metal piece. Every time, it responded with the same dull thud.

  Tragedy’s voice came over the speaker inside Vongst’s helmet. “Doctor, is everything alright?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just talking to myself.”

  “Not that, sir. Your breathing is strained. My sensors show your heart rate is elevated beyond safe levels. I think you should return to the ship.”

  9

  Tragedy asked how Vongst was feeling as it unclipped the doctor’s helmet and lifted it away from his head. Vongst waved the question away even though he had needed to sit down as soon as he re-boarded the transport.

  “I’m fine,” he said, forcing a series of coughs to remain buried in his throat. “Just tired.”

  “Are you sure this is a good idea, Doctor?”

  The android had a way of being able to ask the question without having any tone of genuine sympathy or concern.

  Vongst looked down at his boots as he spoke. His voice contained a slight tremor. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  Tragedy reached a hand forward to begin unfastening the doctor’s gauntlets, but Vongst gave a soft push, not even strong enough to fend off a child. The android nodded and took a step back to give Vongst more room. The doctor groaned and reached a metal glove across to his other wrist, then began unfastening the clips. After a moment, he looked up to find Tragedy staring at him, the android’s eyes glowing as they assessed some kind of data.

  “Why are you doing this, Doctor?” the android asked in its monotone voice.

  “I’ve told you a hundred times. For research.”

  “No, not that,” Tragedy said, its irises still glowing yellow. “Why are you here on this asteroid instead of receiving medical care.”

  Any remainder of energy Vongst possessed drained from him. If he weren’t wearing his suit of space armor and its complex internal supports, he would have likely collapsed onto the bench he was sitting on.

  “You know?”

  “Of course, Doctor. My job is to ensure your well-being. I received a full readout of your bio stats prior to our departure. I also perform routine updates to see how the disease is spreading.”

  “Please don’t tell Dr. Phillips. He’ll cancel my trip if he finds out.”

  Tragedy’s eyes lit up for a split second, then went dull again to resemble normal human eyes. “But Doctor, he was the one who told me.”

  10

  The next day, rather than explore the Gordian Asteroid yet again, Vongst remained aboard the transport with Tragedy.

  “I don’t understand,” he said, staring down at the remarkably good coffee his assistant had prepared for him. “If Dr. Phillips knew, why did he let me come here?”

  As far as he was aware, only Comedy, the station’s medical android, had known of Vongst’s sickness, let alone how advanced it had become prior to detection. Upon being given the news, Vongst hadn’t cried. He hadn’t gone and found someone he cared about and sought pity. Instead, he had leaned closer to Comedy and whispered that he would have the android decommissioned and dropped into a black hole if it told anyone else about his diagnosis. The android’s eyes had glowed a soft blue, and it had backed a safe distance away from him.

  The rest of that day and night, Vongst had stayed in his living quarters and gotten roaringly drunk off synthetic whiskey. In the midst of his intoxication and prior to passing out, he had remembered the stories of the Gordian Asteroid from his ch
ildhood. As soon as he woke up the next day, tired and miserably hungover, he had put in the request to go to the asteroid. Not once in the days leading up to his departure had he mentioned his sickness.

  Tragedy said, “Was Dr. Phillips not supposed to approve your request?”

  “No, I wanted him to. I just thought he would have tried to dissuade me if he knew I was sick.”

  Tragedy waited to ask his next question until Vongst was able to contain another coughing fit.

  “Would you like me to try and dissuade you, Doctor?”

  Vongst gave a half-hearted laugh and looked up at the android. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing every single day when you ask why I’m doing this?”

  All of the latest androids had programming advanced enough to detect and ignore rhetorical questions. Instead of answering Vongst’s inquiry, Tragedy had one of his own. “Why are you doing this?”

  The doctor sighed. “For research.”

  “Forgive me if I’m mistaken, Doctor, but you were conducting different research prior to coming here, correct? What made you decide to give that up in favor of this?”

  Vongst’s first instinct was to snap at the android and tell it that it was welcome to leave. He knew, though, that the android didn’t care where it was and was only asking out of some need to fill a gap in its logic programming.

  “Curiosity.”

  Tragedy’s eyes lit up for a moment. “You were not curious about the other research you were conducting?”

  Vongst slammed his mug down on the table in front of him and shouted, “Damn you. I’m going to die anyway. Why not here, trying to do something important?”

  There were a lot of things Tragedy could have said. The android could have suggested that Dr. Vongst return home for medical treatment. It could have asked to join him on the asteroid during his next hike. Tragedy’s self-preservation programming would override such a foolish notion, however, unless Vongst ordered it to accompany him.

  Instead of saying any of these things, Tragedy asked if Vongst was ready for supper.

  Vongst sighed and looked out the viewport of the transport. The Gordian Asteroid was there, numerous parts of ships exposed, teasing him with what they promised.

  “Sure, Tragedy, that would be nice.”

  11

  The next morning, as Vongst stepped into the boots of his space armor, Tragedy once again asked the doctor if he was sure this was a good idea.

  Vongst realized the android wasn’t referring to walking amongst booby-trapped flagships. It was talking about doing so in the doctor’s current state of declining health.

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  Tragedy’s torso pivoted to retrieve the main piece of space armor off the wall so it could be fitted around Vongst.

  “Did Dr. Phillips tell you not to let on that you knew about my sickness?”

  “No, Doctor.”

  “Then why didn’t you mention it before?”

  The android turned its head away from what it was doing even though it continued to fasten the internal harness around Vongst’s shoulders. It never failed to unsettle the doctor when androids did things without looking at their hands.

  “Why didn’t you mention it before, Doctor?”

  “I didn’t think Dr. Phillips knew. I wanted to keep it a secret.”

  “I’m programmed to assist whichever scientist I’m assigned to. It was clear you did not want to acknowledge your health.”

  “Thank you, Tragedy.”

  “Just following my programming.”

  Vongst smiled as the android placed the helmet over his head. A whoosh sounded and Vongst knew his suit was pressurized.

  “Okay then,” he said and stood.

  12

  Dr. Vongst had asked Tragedy to fly the transport to a new section of the asteroid. When he disembarked from the vessel, a different assortment of metal parts jutted out from the stone. The sight, rather than lift his spirits, only left him discouraged.

  In all of his excursions, not once had he found anything of note. Nothing to answer why the ships were there or how they might be freed. He had been a fool to think that simply gazing at the legendary puzzle might surpass the efforts of former rulers with their riches and extensive resources.

  He had investigated large swaths of the ships. The main deck. The bow. The inside of a thruster. There was only one place he could think of that he hadn’t gone before, and it was where he now began to walk.

  The inside of one of the ship’s mighty cannons.

  Vongst stood at the base of where a cannon jutted out from the rock and extended hundreds of feet over his head. The barrel’s circumference was roughly the same size as the transport he slept in each night. The cannon would be powerful enough to destroy a mid-size cruiser with one blast.

  The doctor arched a foot to allow the bottom of his space armor to adhere to the perpendicular surface in front of him. The space armor did the rest, stabilizing him as his other foot stepped upon the barrel. He started walking up the length of the weapon at a ninety degree angle from where he had been standing a moment earlier.

  Tragedy’s voice came across the speaker in his ear. “Doctor, are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “Positive.”

  The android didn’t say anything else but was surely watching Vongst’s progress from a feed inside the transport’s cockpit.

  At the end of the barrel, Vongst turned and stared at where he had come from. The asteroid was hundreds of feet below him. He took a moment to appreciate the view from atop the weapon’s peak. All across the landscape of rock, he could see various portions of glistening silver ships sticking out from the asteroid. In the distance, the sun glowed blue.

  Vongst smiled, then lifted himself over the edge of the cannon. There, he began to walk down the length of the weapon again, only this time he was inside the barrel, walking toward the point where the chamber would store immense amounts of power to be channeled through the path he was currently walking.

  With the additional length of the cannon that was under the asteroid’s surface, Vongst couldn’t tell exactly how long the barrel was or how far under the surface of the rock he would be when he got there. The only thing he knew, the only thing he cared about, was that this was his last and best chance at finding a way onto one of the ships.

  “Doctor, I must advise you that this seems unsafe.”

  “Feel free to take the transport further away from the asteroid if you like.”

  As he continued to walk, a sensor inside his visor told him he was at the point where, if he were outside the barrel, he would be standing on the asteroid’s surface. He didn’t pause to appreciate the fact, only kept walking.

  After another fifty feet, the cannon’s base came into sight. A metal cone protruded from the internal blast wall. Vongst wasn’t a weapons engineer, but he knew the basics of how the cannon would work. The blast wall would open slightly. A tremendous amount of energy that was stored behind it would have a small opening from which to escape. The cone would focus the energy down the length of the cannon’s barrel...

  Which meant the blast wall he was standing in front of had to be able to move aside or open somehow. Looking at it, however, it appeared to be a single piece of metal like every other part of the ship. He reached behind the cone, behind where he could see, and fumbled for anything to hold onto. The faceplate of his helmet was pressed against the outer edge of the cone while his left arm blindly searched for a lever or something, anything that might force access to the weapon’s inner workings. Once he was there, he was sure he could find a way to access the rest of the ship.

  His fingers grazed something. Was it a handle? It felt like it. There was no room, though, for him to squeeze the suit of space armor around the cone to see, and the cumbersome metal gloves didn’t allow him the same sense of touch as his bare hand.

  “I think I might have found something,” he said.

  “What is it, Doctor?”

  “A way into the sh
ip, I think. I’m not sure. I can’t see it.” A moment later, he added, “I’m going to try and turn it. Are you a safe distance away?”

  “I am, Doctor.”

  Vongst’s left gauntlet encircled whatever it was that was located behind the cone. Without the suit, he might be able to squeeze in-between the cone and the blast wall to see what was there. Of course, without the suit he would die in a matter of seconds. He would also be without the strength that the space armor offered to be able to turn the handle, if that’s what it was.

  “Doctor, are you sure this is a good idea?”

  His hand gripped the metal cylinder.

  “Would you rather I return home and sit in a medical bay for the last few months of my life?”

  There was a moment of silence before Tragedy said, “What should I tell Dr. Phillips?”

  Vongst’s hand froze. He stifled a cough.

  Ignoring Tragedy’s question, he said, “You want to know why I call it the Gordian Asteroid and not the Excalibur or something else? Because it was the name my parents used for it. That’s all. I’m not Gordian the Stubborn. I don’t have anything to lose, certainly not a kingdom.” He shook his head. “Not even my health.”

  Surely Dr. Phillips had understood the same thing. That was why his colleague had approved the trip in Vongst’s current condition.

  “Why are you doing this, Doctor?”

  Vongst took a deep breath. His hand gripped the rod on the other side of the metal panel. He would either disable some part of the cannon’s mechanism and find a way behind the blast wall, or he would be instantly incinerated.

  “To leave a legacy.”

  “I don’t understand, Doctor. You solved the Arcadian Riddle. You found an alternate solution to the Mercicuan Problem.”

  Vongst’s hand pushed and pulled lightly at the handle to see if it would begin to turn.

  After a moment of silence, he said, “Do you know how long ago that was? And the only people who care are in scientific and mathematical circles.”

  He pulled with more strength. The metal in his grip began to bend slightly.