Synthesis

by Rexx Deane

  His stomach rumbled. Thinking was hungry work.

  Three hours flight-time and two node hops later, the ship dropped out of superphase in the system of Yazor.

  ‘We’re still an hour outside the system at top speed and I’m already starving,’ Sebastian said. ‘Do you fancy lunch?’

  ‘I thought you’d never ask,’ Aryx said. ‘My stomach’s on the prowl again.’ He retrieved the container from the chilled storage unit, took out a couple of sandwiches, and set up the heater on the diagnostics console to boil some water.

  ‘I want a coffee, not your usual battery acid.’

  ‘Oh, come on, triple strength isn’t that bad.’

  Sebastian shuddered. Bronadi chicory was more palatable than Aryx’s brew.

  They ate at the console while the ship crept into the system. As they finished their drinks an alarm sounded from the cockpit.

  ‘The signal’s resolved!’ Sebastian jabbed at several controls and shook his head. ‘I don’t believe it. The signal is coming from a comet!’

  Chapter 12

  Sebastian and Aryx’s mouths hung open as they sat staring at the display. The earlier readouts were correct: the tracker signal clearly emanated from the comet.

  ‘We’re … going to have to land on that,’ Sebastian said. ‘Computer, plot a trajectory that will take us close to the comet and initiate.’ The danger of the Quintoc asteroid field paled in comparison to this.

  The computer calculated the required thrust for the ship to match the comet’s orbit around the star, and the ship changed direction. Sebastian peered at the display. The on-screen analysis showed the comet measured two miles in diameter, consisting mostly of ice and rock, and its tail sprayed out of the system, blown by the solar winds, ninety degrees to starboard.

  He nibbled at his nails while the ship chased the comet along its orbital path; after an hour of pursuit it was within visual range.

  The tail filled the starboard side of the window, shining brilliantly against the black of space. A bright, steamy halo hung around the sunward hemisphere of the crinkly white rock as its surface slowly boiled away.

  ‘How the hell are we going to land on that thing?’ Aryx asked.

  Sebastian cupped his chin and tapped a finger on the console. ‘I don’t think it’s wise to land sun-side, nor on the faces in partial shadow. That solar wind is blasting across the surface and there’ll be all sorts of stuff in it.’

  ‘So, what do we do?’

  ‘I think we ought to go through the tail and land on the back.’

  ‘Are you mad?’

  ‘I knew you’d think it was insane. Think about it. There should be a calm area in its wake, and it looks like that’s where the tracker signal is coming from.’

  Aryx’s glare faded.

  ‘I’ll need you to man the CFD shield.’

  ‘I’m on it.’ He disappeared down the lift and spoke over the wristcom a moment later. ‘I’m in. Whenever you’re ready.’

  Sebastian took control of the ship and drove it into the icy torrent.

  ***

  Aryx sat at the controls next to the CFD in the shield generator room.

  Sebastian spoke over the intercom. ‘I’m keeping the comet to port as we enter the tail. I’ll take her in slowly to give you time to keep the shield between us and it as we pass through …’

  ‘Okay. I’ve configured it, but the shield won’t cover the full length of the ship because the generator’s too small.’

  ‘That’s a problem. There’s no way we can withstand the debris coming up from the surface … Wait, I’ve got an idea. Set the shield to a shallow dish, fifteen degrees starboard.’

  Aryx tapped away at the controls. ‘Okay, done!’

  The shield generator swung on its mountings to point a little to the right and began to vibrate on its suspension. Five seconds later, the vibrations increased and the generator began to bob about.

  ‘What the heck’s going on up there?’ Aryx shouted.

  ‘Passing through the tail! I’ve turned us prow down so we have a lower profile, but you’ll need to move the shield to cover us as we pass through.’

  He adjusted the shape and position of the shield, bringing it across the prow. The shield generator slowly turned, matching the speed of the ship while it inched through the icy gale. The vibrations increased further, the mountings groaned in complaint, and the hull creaked against the support struts. The generator bobbed violently, dangerously close, forcing him to move farther into the corner.

  ‘I hate to say it,’ Aryx shouted over the cacophony, ‘but those timeless words are true: she can’t take much more of it, Captain!’

  ‘I hear you! Nearly through. Move it to port!’

  He altered the controls again and the generator swept to the left. He chewed his lip. The vibrations decreased.

  After a long minute, the shuddering stopped altogether.

  ‘We’re through,’ Sebastian said, ‘You can deactivate the shield now.’

  Aryx turned off the generator and patted it. The casing was hot under his hand. ‘Good job, old girl,’ he said, and made his way back to the cockpit.

  Sebastian sat checking the console readouts, his forehead dotted with beads of sweat.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Aryx asked.

  ‘I’m fine, but it was touch and go there for a while. I thought we were going to get scoured away to nothing.’

  ‘You did a good job of piloting. I’m sure your dad would have been proud of you.’

  ‘Yeah. Right.’

  ‘I reckon the worst is yet to come. We don’t know what we’ll find on the surface.’

  Sebastian gave him a hard stare. ‘What I’ll find. It’s a pressure suit trip. There’s no atmosphere.’

  ‘Damn, I was looking forward to seeing what’s down there.’ It was one of those rare times Aryx wished he still had his legs; a pressure suit wouldn’t fit without modification.

  Sebastian shook his head. ‘Not this time, sorry.’ He navigated the ship closer to the surface. ‘The locator beacon appears to be right inside the comet. I guess there’s a base.’

  Aryx checked the scanners. ‘Put us down in the centre of this flat area here, so we’re away from the fringe of the tail.’ He peered at the display. ‘There’s a low-density patch a few hundred metres away that could be an entrance. I didn’t see it on the scans before, probably because the tail was masking it.’

  ‘I’ll set her down and explore on foot.’

  Sebastian rotated the ship to bring the keel parallel to the surface and Aryx almost toppled out of his chair. It was odd how your eyes could play tricks on you, especially when it came to which way was up.

  A loud thump echoed through the hull.

  ‘Here we are. I’m going to put a suit on.’ Sebastian headed down the ladder into the hold.

  Aryx picked up his rucksack, left slumped against the diagnostics console, and fished around for a moment, drew out the pistol and infoslate, then headed down the lift after him.

  ‘You’d better take these,’ he said, holding out the items.

  Sebastian grimaced. ‘I’d forgotten about that.’ He put the gun in his holster, clamped the helmet shut and hooked the infoslate on his belt.

  ‘Be careful – no accidents this time.’

  ***

  Sebastian stepped out onto the cometoid. A curtain of light wavered and shimmered as streams of rock and ice flowed upward from the jagged horizon. The continuous geyser of glittering particles contrasted against the black of space above, casting a diffuse, cold illumination on the shadowy ground. The ambient light was barely enough to make out vague shapes, but there was no point in breaking an ankle: he turned on the suit’s torch.

  The comet’s surface was littered with slick, vicious glassy crags. He shuddered; imagine what would happen if he slipped on one! As he picked his way across the rock in the direction of the low density area, the ground crunched silently underfoot and, after several minutes of trudging and the occasional
stumble, he came to the region Aryx’s scans had indicated.

  The knobbly surface fell away into a smooth, shallow crater roughly twenty metres across by four metres deep. He worked his way down into the bowl, but several feet from the bottom his foot twisted awkwardly and the ground rushed up to greet him.

  He peeled himself off the powdery surface and looked out across the crater. How had he not skewered himself on one of the sharp crags? The shadows remained in place as his torch moved back and forth. Crouching down, he ran his gloved hand gently over the unusually smooth surface. Artificial! The crater was painted with black, grey and white stippling – a convincing imitation of rock and shadow.

  Holding the torch low, he moved towards the centre and, after a couple of minutes searching, the light revealed the shadows of a small square panel with rounded corners. He brushed the dust and loose stones away; it was a cover with a simple sliding catch.

  Sebastian opened the cover, exposing a handle within a quarter-circle recess – a manual actuator for a door. But what door? Out of curiosity he pulled the lever, rotating it through ninety degrees. A vibration shuddered through his legs and he put his hand out to stop himself falling over. The movement ceased and he slowly straightened.

  The base of the crater had parted, revealing an airlock set at the bottom of a metallic chamber several feet deep. He stood at the edge. If he went in, he could get trapped with no way out, but then he’d come all that way … If he didn’t go in now, he wouldn’t learn anything.

  He jumped down and landed on the door at the bottom. His heart skipped a beat as the open hatch above slammed silently shut, sending a thunderous rumble through his feet and hands, instantly plunging him into darkness.

  Bright illumination flooded the chamber. Before he could react, his stomach moved under the onset of artificial gravity. The wall behind him became the floor, and he fell, painfully, on his back.

  ***

  Aryx sat aboard the Ultima Thule, studying the apparently random stream of data produced by the melted lump of electronics.

  ‘What are you?’

  The melted lump was a puzzle, as was the cube Sebastian had presented. With no intelligible data, and no way of getting into the cube, he was utterly stumped, but at least Sebastian was moving the investigation along independently.

  On the console, he brought up the program monitoring the transmissions from the cube. It had been inactive since they’d left the station, but now signals came from it once again, taunting him. He watched the display as coloured waveforms flowed by, peaking and decaying. After several minutes of staring at the patterns, he had an idea.

  ‘Computer, show me the emissions generated by the ship’s systems, but exclude ambient sources such as the CFD generator and reactor.’

  The computer obeyed, replacing the waveform with the emissions from the ship itself.

  He leaned back and rubbed his chin. ‘Okay … Now show them above the emissions from the cube.’

  The display changed to show both sets of waveforms, one above the other. Something, some deep-seated gut instinct, niggled at him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. What if the cube was somehow processing the ship’s signals?

  ‘Computer, overlay the two sets.’

  The displays merged.

  ‘Hmm.’ There were distinct peaks in the emissions from the cube between the peaks of those from the ship. ‘This is interesting …’

  ***

  Sebastian clambered to his feet and rubbed his aching back. Obviously, the N-suit wasn’t of much use alleviating a general impact. It took a few moments for his eyes to become accustomed to the bright light.

  In front of him stood the airlock door he had landed on after jumping into the chamber through the secret entrance, his dusty footprints clearly visible on its surface. He activated the entry control and it opened silently in the vacuum. He’d half expected it to remain shut, or for alarm lights to flash, but when he stepped in the airlock closed behind him uneventfully and an increasingly loud hiss of air echoed through the chamber as it filled with atmosphere.

  The door ahead opened, and he stepped out into a long, curving tunnel, hewn from the comet itself. The smooth walls undulated like molten glass, and held an icy iridescence beneath the gently rippling surface. A metallic walkway, raised from the bottom of the tunnel, ran the length of the passage and allowed the walls to curve under it, from where a cold light emanated. He shivered. The walls could almost be melting in front of his eyes. He could almost reach out and touch them, if only they weren’t beyond his reach from the path.

  He checked the display behind the torch on his left wrist. Atmosphere breathable; no known pathogens detected; acceptable temperature for Human habitation. Perfect. He unlocked his helmet and flipped it back over his head. Warm breath condensed in front of him.

  He stepped forwards and the hard soles of the pressure suit boots clanged on the walkway. He winced, but continued. If anyone was here, they’d already know he’d arrived.

  He continued through the winding tunnel for a couple of minutes, marvelling at the structure; the work that had gone into constructing the place must have cost a fortune.

  After turning yet another bend, the passage ended and the walls pinched in towards the walkway, which terminated at a metal door set into a deep recess. Other than a small panel inset at eye level, the door was otherwise featureless. He shifted uneasily. There could always be nanocameras or other sensors he couldn’t see, watching him.

  With no other option but to announce his presence, he held up his right hand, made a fist, and knocked.

  ***

  An alarm from the navigation console interrupted Aryx’s train of thought. He wheeled over and pressed a button, stifling the irritating noise. External sensors had detected a change in the comet’s rotation. But … it had been stable before they’d landed!

  ‘Computer, what’s happening? Give me pictures, not technobabble.’

  Bright green lines appeared in the glass console; a diagram of the comet. While the simulation played, the comet remained stationary until a tiny icon – the ship – moved towards the outline and landed on it. The comet turned, incredibly slowly at first, but crags on the outline caught the pixelated solar winds that swept across the profile, and it began to turn faster.

  ‘Oops.’

  Would the rotation would pose a threat? He glanced out of the window. The ice streaming up from the horizon was closer, and at a much shallower angle than when Sebastian had left the ship.

  ‘Oh shit!’ He recalled the turbulence the shield had encountered on their passage through the tail and his heart raced. ‘Computer, is there adequate clearance below the ice stream to manoeuvre the ship?’

  ‘Negative. The ship is too close to the penumbral cone. There is inadequate clearance for lift-off.’

  Aryx rubbed his head. Even if he could get the ship off the ground, he wouldn’t be able to pilot manually and direct the shields at the same time, and there was no way he was going to let the computer do it.

  ‘Is it safe to stay here?’

  ‘Not without adequate shield configuration.’

  ‘If the ship stays here with adequate shielding, will it get blown off the comet?’

  ‘The mass of the ship is greater than the particle stream pressure. Without further information, it is not possible to assess the required variables to determine whether the ship will stay in place.’

  He had no choice. The situation was too complex and chaotic to allow the computer to make a guess – it needed gut instinct and intuition. The only option was to stay put and man the shield.

  He made his way down to the field generator room, patched through the navigational sensors and visual feed, and waited for the storm.

  ***

  Sebastian waited for an answer to his knock on the door, and nearly jumped out of his skin when the suit’s comm unit bleeped.

  ‘What is it?’ he snapped, irritated by his own embarrassment.

  Aryx’s voice c
rackled in the earpiece. ‘There’s a problem,’ he said, his voice taut as a bowstring. ‘We must have altered the comet’s momentum by landing here. It’s turning, and this side will be in full sun in a couple of minutes.’

  ‘I’m underground.’

  ‘Good, because it won’t be safe for you on the surface for at least an hour.’

  ‘Will you be alright?’

  ‘The computer isn’t sure, but I think the ship should be safe enough if I reconfigure the shields. I’ll have to do it m— … —again, as we’ve only got twenty— … —cover, but I think it’ll be okay.’

  ‘I’m more worried about you than the ship. You’re breaking up. It sounds like solar interference.’

  ‘I know— … —okay. Just watch yourself out—’ The signal cut off.

  The familiar knotting sensation returned to Sebastian’s stomach and, in his warm suit, he began to shake. He turned his face to the ceiling and closed his eyes, half praying, to hold back an almost uncontrollable fear. Fear that he’d be stuck on an uninhabited comet. Fear that something might happen to Aryx.

  And it would all have been his fault.

  A grating sound from behind dragged him from his self-pity and he spun around.

  The panel in the door had opened.

  Chapter 13

  A white face with black, hollow eyes stared out from the letterbox slit and a gravelly, masculine voice said, ‘Who are you, how did you get here, and what do you want?’

  Sebastian blinked. What had the voice said? It wasn’t Galac. It took a few moments for it sink in: English.

  ‘I say again,’ the voice said, this time in Galac. ‘Who are you, how did you get here, and what do you want?’ The voice was strangely muffled; the features didn’t move.

  He stepped closer to the door. ‘My name is Sebastian Thorsson. I am a security officer from Tenebrae station, and I came in a ship.’

  ‘It’s obvious you arrived in a ship, security idiot! I want to know how you found me.’