Expedition Nereus
Page 5
"No, of course not... You need to use special devices, but I think we were delayed a few times because of them... They don't distort space, they don't compress it, but they create new space and new matter..."
"How is that possible?" Jack's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He couldn't imagine how complicated the physics behind everything might be since Anne was talking only in general terms. But even what he was imagining astonished him.
"Yes, the stars may be the reason for the evolution of the universe and bringing life to items... anyway, that's what someone at N-Star labs thinks."
"And what do you personally think?" Jack thought for a minute that she had already gone nuts.
"I agree," Anne snapped. "These stars may be at the center of star clusters."
After finishing her comment, she started hacking long and hard.
Once her cough subsided, she told about star clusters and nebulas for a long time, about the attempts to create new stars using explosive reactions. Fortunately, they never succeeded. Jack literally held on to her every word, absorbing everything in her tale, even information between the lines. For the time being, he felt like an astrophysicist who was searching for answers to questions about the universe.
At the same instant, Jack imagined he looked like a little child who could listen to such stories for hours. Yet for Anne, it was an unaffordable luxury to talk for so long and so much. But she was trying her best. Like any true scientist, even as she lay on her deathbed on this cruel planet from serious health problems, she couldn't betray her life's work - the search for answers to questions about the laws governing the universe. She managed to collect some different items while on expeditions, and she wanted to share her knowledge with humanity. For the moment, the only available representative was First Lieutenant Sallenge, the man sitting at the edge of her bed.
"I used to live for the stars for many years... And I'd be still living for them if I hadn't met Nick during one of those expeditions," she finished, sounding as if she were justifying herself.
"I envy you, Anne," Jack stated, stroking her hair and feeling the heat coming from her head. Anne's body was fighting itself using all the tools it had at hand.
"Oh, come on," she sniffed, giving him a slight smile.
"Erhm... We've got all the provisions. Tomorrow I'll bring the rest of the water and everything else from the cargo compartment," Jack voiced to himself, coming to the conclusion Anne needs more fluids. She nodded approvingly and coughed. The colonel sat up a little and tried really hard to fight her throat, taking a few deep, but labored, breaths. Finally, she pressed her hand to her mouth and hacked.
Jack's stomach turned from what he saw. He watched her every movement. She clenched her fist and gave him a stare like a predatory, but cornered, panther. He could see thick red liquid ooze through her fingers. Anne hurriedly hid her fist under the blanket and turned her head away. She didn't want Jack to know she had coughed up blood. Realizing what just happened, Jack swallowed tensely and silently walked to the table to get water for Anne.
She took a couple of sips and leaned her head back on the pillow, closing her eyes. The dull light seemed to emphasize yellowish-green circles under her eyes. The rest of her face was pale-gray, her skin highlighted by blue veins in certain spots. Waiting for her to fall asleep, Jack climbed into bed and tried to lose himself in a dream so that he might escape from reality.
7
The next morning, having fed Anne, Jack ordered the Trapecrawler to collect the remaining containers of water from the shuttle. After that, he made a trip to the teleport to check if the Center had sent a message, something he didn't hold out hope for.
To his own surprise, however, a message was displayed on the pavilion's central panel.
F - 000: Task. To: First Lieutenant Jack Sallenge. Send research drone to sector G – 67a (56 ° 21’11.2’’ S 9 ° 10’28.5’’ E) to collect water samples. Time to complete: 22 hours.
"Wow! Our first task! We're trying not to die, and they send us tasks to complete," Jack sarcastically exclaimed before quickly slapping his hand over his mouth, glancing at Anne who was trying to sit fully upright on the bed. He remembered what she had said about discipline and realized it was probably not the time to criticize the Center. In fact, he should refrain from doing so in the future.
She was rummaging through an iron box containing her personal belongings and, fortunately, she didn't seem to have heard him.
Judging by the coordinates, it was a stream near their pavilion. Jack understood it was one of the wartstones' primary watering holes. Leaving the pavilion, he submitted the coordinates to one of the starfish along with the task before continuing on to the shuttle to check on Trape.
Climbing into the tail section of the shuttle, Jack took some time to notice how things looked absolutely different inside the cargo area. The right wall, to be more precise. The front of the right wall had disappeared, leaving behind a hybrid airbike, the "Overplan-500", the latest model of high-speed craft, hanging where the wall had been.
"Whoa!" Jack couldn't hold back his delight. "Unbelievable!"
His heart started racing. Lieutenant Sallenge had only dreamt about riding such an all-terrain vehicle. He stood there astonished, completely mesmerized by the elegance of the vehicle's curves and angles. The beautiful arcs combined with the polished, shiny frame to make the hoverbike look extraterrestrial.
The hoverbike was about four meters long and resembled a motorcycle with a few key differences. The handles were fixed to a protective glass windshield, and its wide dashboard was dotted with dozens of tiny sensors. A massive engine was situated below the seat, and part of its cooling system could be seen poking out. An experienced driver could simply feel how the engine was doing just by paying attention to changes in vibration and noise.
Jack reflected that their unfortunate situation had at least some advantages and small joys. Normally, he'd never be allowed to operate such an aircraft during the mission, but now no one cared. He'd be able to not only fly the hoverbike, but he could use it to search for other surviving crew members. Amazed by what he saw, Jack didn't immediately realize why Trape had disassembled the wall to show him the hoverbike. The reason was the windshield of the hoverbike, which displayed a few small points on a map - the coordinates of the other shuttles. Trape had received a command to locate the beacons, and it performed its task flawlessly. The other beacons, aside from the hoverbike's, were unexpected...
Jack climbed onto the Overplan and looked at the miniature control panel. Reasoning that there should be only two points on the display, there were many more. Not to mention, the distances between points varied erratically. Based on the map's scale, there were some points with distances of a couple kilometers between them. That was a bad sign, and Jack tried not to jump to any hasty conclusions. He glanced at the robot as it continued to load canisters of water.
"We'll need to work a bit more tomorrow, buddy," he informed Trape.
Trapecrawler 2188A reacted in response by flashing blueish-purple waves of light that ran across the surface of its central segment. Then it did something Jack didn't expect. It rolled over to him and stretched out its right manipulator, making a sad sound that seemed to be one of sympathy. The gesture seemed quite friendly and supportive. The robot wasn't completely unfamiliar with emotion, as some had been programmed into its artificial intelligence. Half a century ago, during the rapid development of robotics, everything but trashcans had been programmed with intelligence and emotion, especially something like a high-functioning robot.
For a moment, Jack seemed to understand why people started protesting in support of universal rights for robots. How could a person be unmoved when an individual lent you a helping hand?
Jack slightly knocked on the last of the five segments, smiled, then extended his own hand in response. It felt strange for the lieutenant to feel the cold metal of Trape's claw squeezing his own hand. That was the first time ever in his life he shook a robot's hand.
/> Returning to the pavilion that had come to feel like home over the last few days, Jack glanced at the rays of the setting sun. Under the reddish-orange gleam, the nickel green color of the steppe's sand shimmered all the shades of a rainbow. Jack had never seen such sunsets on Earth. He lingered momentarily to observe it, breathing in the cool evening air before continuing to the pavilion's entrance located at the rear on the left side of the central glass panel. The starfish was obediently waiting for him, making a sound that Jack interpreted as a reproach. The entrance to the pavilion moved aside, and the starfish, moving its metallic limbs, proudly strolled inside.
Anne was still awake. Jack observed she looked somehow more cheerful than in the morning.
"What's up? What took so long?" she inquired, sitting up in her bed.
"Trape got the Overplan out," he replied, sitting on the chair next to the teleport.
"That's right! They supplied us with them," Anne remarked, trying to lean against the edge of the bed, her arm propping her up.
"How are you doing? Better?" Jack carefully asked, sitting partially turned towards her.
"I don't know how many sequences I have left to live."
"Anne," he pursed his lips and gave her a scornful gaze. "Okay... Let's drop it."
Then he stood and picked up the peaceful starfish from the floor.
"We need to check the water probes!" he spoke loudly, quickly covering the distance to the table with analyzers and a microscope. "They easily passed through quarantine, so they must be nontoxic. That’s a good sign."
A few minutes later, Jack had to conclude that the water was unsuitable for drinking. He made a sad look in Anne's direction but tried to cheer up immediately after noticing she wasn't in the mood for bad news. He went up to her, smiled, and placed his hands on her shoulders.
"How about dinner, commander?" Anne asked playfully, although in the same weak, hoarse voice as she stared into Jack's eyes. Rarely she looked so directly into his eyes, and this sincere, friendly, almost child-like look melted the astronaut's heart.
"As you wish, madam!" He answered in kind. "What would you like for dinner? Mediterranean lobster or the carcass of a round wartstone?"
Anne burst into laughter – hoarse, deep, hard laughter. But it was genuine laughter, the kind most women on Earth had. Her sincerity reminded him of Gladys. For a minute, Jack felt remorse at the memory, but the hope of seeing her again, even if it wasn't in the near future, reinvigorated him.
"I'll take both, stat. I worked up an appetite waiting so long for you!" Now they were both laughing. She laughed, but she kept stopping to catch her breath until all of a sudden, Anne began hacking intensely. It was a sharp cough, one deep inside that seemed to be tearing apart her lungs.
Jack gingerly hugged her and sat her down near the table.
"Okay. It seems over for now. I can do it myself, Jack. You don't need to hold me," she said, waving him away.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
Jack was glad she had started to perk up. Not wanting to bother her, he decided to do as she instructed him.
"I'm not eating today. My appetite's gone."
"As you wish, but keep in mind that hot lobsters will be waiting for you," Jack tried to joke again.
She slightly smiled, trying not to offend him, but he understood it took effort to pull this smile off.
"I'll make a quick run to the shuttle and take a look at Overplan's display. Laura and Alan might have sent some message."
"Yes, go on," she replied automatically. "Hang on...no. Do it tomorrow. It's getting dark. Who knows what you may run into at night?”
Jack hesitated, but ultimately chose to not lock wits with an already weakened Anne.
"Okay, then I'll do it tomorrow morning."
Darkening the windows to block out the yellowish-green light of the alien sun, they went to bed.
8
The morning after was muggy and stifling. Jack grabbed a helmet-neurotransmitter to sync his brain with technical devices. He anticipated the day would be one of those hot, humid, and sticky ones. Such days were capable of draining all the energy from a person, leaving them lying absolutely exhausted and powerless on the bed at the end of the day.
Jack unconsciously recalled how time would pass on the ship, as if it followed some strange, illogical laws. Sometimes the days would last too long, stretching out like a long sticky thread of a spider's web. During such days, the entire crew felt drained of all their strength. Spaced mysteriously closed in, flattening everything in its embrace. From a certain perspective, it would seem as though the universe was flat, just as ancient people believed. Jack hated such days. But there were also days that flew by like a whirlwind, swift and rough.
Events whipped by, lashing at them with every gust, unknowingly guiding them through to the evening. Those days weren't always easy, but they were quick and exciting. Waking up every morning in bed, Jack constantly hoped to be plunged into such a fast-paced and active day. Yet here on Nereus, days seemed to roll into the next like one big, gelatinous mess.
Stepping outside, Jack commanded Trape to follow. It was 5:40 in the morning local time. The sun rose quickly, heating the planet with its rays as if it was in a hurry to make the blueish-green sand burning hot with its orange-brown rays. The star that warmed Nereus and three other planets was the same type as the Solar System's, so Jack decided not to create a special name for it. He just called it "The Sun."
He detected no other signs or signals from other crew members on the display. Regardless of the tasks the Center assigned, Jack had to find out for himself what had happened to Laura and Alan. His mind rejected the idea that they had died.
Tearing himself away from the hoverbike's display, Jack rubbed his chin with his hand. "I need to do something now. I just can't sit around on my hands! Think! Think! That's what your mind's for," he thought.
"That's it!" he exclaimed, jumping into the pilot's seat.
He started searching through the display for instructions on operating the hoverbike. It took him more than four hours to learn how to make the hoverbike fly. It would hardly have been possible for him to do it without the guidance of the neurotransmitter, which helped him comprehend how to activate steering and the control panel, or how to exit the forcefield.
The plan gradually took shape in Jack's head. He knew the bike could carry him to where Alan and Laura's shuttle crashed.
Jack instructed Trape to remove the hoverbike from its fastenings and park it outside.
Initially, Jack felt timid, but over time, he grew more confident as he gripped the steering handle while flying around the shuttle. Granted, it was a miracle that he avoided ramming the shuttle's tail with the front end of the hoverbike. He felt how the handle now obeyed his every wish completely, which meant he could fly more boldly. Switching gears to increase the engine's power, Jack surged forward so fast he flew by their new home, barely keeping control to avoid crashing into one of the cliffs.
"Woohoo!" he exclaimed from the unbelievable drive and energy that flowed inside him. His slightly faded sandy blond hair waved about, whipping back to reveal his forehead as the wind coolly blew into his face. Once he activated the forcefield, the air around him became calm. The forcefield protected the hoverbike from every side. He could shield the vehicle and the pilot from wind, rain, and all sorts of possible impacts. The hoverbike, ovular in shape with a curved bottom and top, reminded Jack of an elegant hot dog. Yet taking into consideration the freedom of mobility, a world of possibilities opened before Jack, making him the envy of all racers of the world.
Looking behind at the steppe from 40 meters high, he gazed out across the endless sandy plains before barreling back down to their new home.
Bolting into the pavilion, he shouted, "I was flying, Anne! It was amazing!" He was radiant like a child who had learned to ride a bicycle and rushed to tell mom.
"You flew the Overplan?" she asked sternly, holding on to the edge of the table.
Anne's teeth were clenched in anger and her forehead sternly furrowed. Her eyes flashed side to side for a while, obviously trying to figure out how she felt on the subject.
"Screw the instructions," Anne declared, suddenly straightening up and taking a few steps towards Jack. "Let's go. I want to fly too."
Surprised, Jack was rendered momentarily speechless, but seeing Anne in need of help, he rushed to her side and took the colonel's hand.
They climbed into the hoverbike's cockpit, with Jack in the front seat. They slowly and carefully took off. Lieutenant Sallenge tried flying the vehicle as smoothly as his minimal experience permitted him.
"Faster! Speed up," Anne commanded.
Jack's hands still couldn't hold the handle firmly, which was why he ignored her command.
"Come on!" She nudged the back of his head with her chin.
"Anne, watch it!" Jack exclaimed in mild fear as he didn't expect such energy from her.
"Move over. Let me."
With those words, she started trying to switch seats.
The hoverbike tilted to the side, but autopilot corrected automatically.
Anne took the neurohelmet from Jack and used it to take control of the hoverbike.
Racing forward, Anne began howling with laughter. Jack tried to shout at Anne that she should close the cockpit window, but the colonel didn't seem to hear anything or anyone.
Her hair was whipping into his face. Whenever she suddenly decided to change course, he needed to lean to the side to keep balance. They zoomed higher and higher until they could see the dark points of the rocky ridge and a network of streams far below them. The gusty wind slapped him in the face and chilled him to the bone.
He began to sense he was slipping out when he yelled at the top of his lungs for Anne to activate the shield. He had nearly fallen out of the seat when something soft pushed him back. Colonel Petrow had taken mercy on the younger officer by turning on the forcefield.