Sagitta

by C M Benamati

Morgan bit his lip. “It’s impossible,” he muttered.

  “Saying that over and over doesn’t make you right. We’re seeing a warp field distortion. I know it. I’ve seen it before.”

  Morgan pulled his legs and arms in until he was a little floating ball, spinning slowly in the air behind Liz. He squeezed himself as tight as he could. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!” Nope, still floating.

  He scowled. “How could you have seen this before?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “It’s impossible. Hawking, Einstein, and all the rest proved you can’t travel faster than light.”

  “You’re a blind idiot if you believe that,” said Liz.

  “Am not.”

  “Are too. It’s staring you right in the face. Where’s the Earth, Morgan? Where! Point it out. Show me.”

  Morgan’s frown deepened. He went back to the window. He had already looked out of it at every angle. Despite the porthole’s small size, if the Sagitta were still in orbit of Earth it would have been obvious. She might be right. “How then.” he snapped. “Tell me, if you’re so whippin smart. How is this possible?”

  Liz’s eyes were shimmering pools. Droplets shot from her fingers as she brushed the tears away. “They said there was a malfunction. The engines exploded and everyone died. The experiment was a failure.”

  “What experiment?”

  “My mom was a theoretical physicist at EnGineus. Two years ago, she was the lead researcher on a secret project for the ISF. She wasn’t supposed to talk about it, but she told me bits and pieces. She invented something, and the ISF put it on a ship. That ship was called the Starfire.”

  “Ah,” said Morgan. So that’s what happened to her mom. The Starfire incident had been all over the news.

  Liz was making an obvious effort to keep it together. “EnGineus makes fusion drives and ion engines. Two days before the accident, my mom brought a holosim home. She was working late on it. I came downstairs for a drink before bed and caught a glimpse of it. That’s where I saw this for the first time—the warp bubble.”

  “How’d you know what it was?”

  Liz pointed at her eyes. “The sim came with a few channels of additional data. I downloaded some of it before my mom realized I was there and turned off her computer. She was pissed, and made me swear not to tell anyone. She wasn’t supposed to bring her work home, but the project was behind schedule and she was under a lot of pressure. She was worried it wouldn’t work, that they hadn’t gotten it quite right.

  “I already knew the ISF had been rushing them. In the last few months before the launch, my mom was hardly ever home. When she was, she was fighting with my dad. She’d cry herself to sleep and in the morning she’d be gone before we woke up. Dad wanted her to quit. If only she had listened to him.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Morgan lamely.

  Liz sniffed. “We got the call twenty minutes before dinner. An hour after that, some ISF admiral came down Earthside. Howard, I think his name was. He told us some bullshit story; that the new battery system EnGineus designed had overloaded. He said Mom died serving the good of the Commonwealth. He gave my dad some medal and then left. After that, my dad went kind of crazy.”

  Liz waved her hand around. “But, they did it! It wasn’t a battery system my mom invented. The Starfire had a warp drive, and even though that one didn’t work, the one on the Sagitta does. Do you know what this means?”

  Morgan thought for a moment. “It means we’re really, really far away?”

  “Well duh! More than that. My mom is a hero! I mean, people have dreamed of visiting other worlds for centuries. All the overpopulation, the starving, the fighting, it can all be avoided now. We can go out there,” she waved at the window, “where no one has gone before.”

  Morgan said nothing. This must be an accident too. Some engine test gone wrong. What would they think back home, when they went looking for and didn’t find the Sagitta anywhere? Would the ISF tell the truth? Probably not. They’ll tell my parents that there was some accident.

  “Did you hear that?” said Liz. “The sound changed.”

  The soothing hum was gone, replaced by a more labored drone. Outside, blue streamers had begun to mix with the star trails. Well, that doesn’t look good.

  Liz pushed off and went back to the door. She began slamming on it with her fist. “I know what’s happening,” she screamed. “A warp ship! You have a warp ship! My mother was Rachael Fowler. Can you hear me? Doctor Fowler was my mom. Let me out!”

  There was no response. Morgan looked up at the small camera. There was no indication that it was on, or if there was anything that recorded audio. Liz turned to face him. “Morgan, we need to get out of here. I think something’s wrong. Why would they go to warp with us civilians on board?”

  “I have no idea.” Maybe Jack will find out. Maybe he’ll come tell us what’s going on.

  “What do we do?” said Liz.

  Morgan looked around. Except for the door and the window, there was nothing in the tiny room to work with. “I don’t think there’s much we can do but wait. Maybe Yin and Jack will convince them to let us out. Until then we’re stuck. Unless your tech can hack that door.”

  Liz regarded the pressure door and shook her head. “I already tried it when they took Victor. All the access protocols are encrypted.” She stiffened. “Do you think he’s going to be ok?”

  It took Morgan a moment to realize what she was asking. He’d forgotten about Victor. Liz was looking at him with an increasingly worried expression. He wanted to go to her, to pull her close and tell her everything would be ok, but something held him back. “I don’t know,” he said, and turned away.

  ∆∆∆

  The Sagitta’s bridge towered above the primary hull, and the wrap-around windows offered an amazing view of the phenomenon outside. The stars directly in front of the ship were burned a brilliant blue. At the port and starboard beam, the starlight was white, but the stars themselves were elongated into thin streamers that bent around the ship. The stars to the stern were points of light again, although red in hue.

  Stone floated on the edge of her chair, one arm propped under her chin. It’s beautiful. But everything was wrong. They were traveling much too fast, and the engines refused to disengage. Strange blue energy waves coursed over the shields like lightning. That must be what’s powering our engines.

  She considered the point of light that was perfectly centered in the forward window. It was the class-g star known as Chara, and it was getting brighter. We’re flying straight at it a zillion miles an hour…but why?

  She looked around at her bridge crew. They attended their consoles without comment or speculation, set to the task of deciphering the terabytes of information that were pouring in from the Sagitta’s sensors. So far, no one could offer her any explanation for what was happening beyond conjecture.

  “Helm, has there been any change in our course?” Stone said.

  “Negative,” replied the helmsman. “We’re still heading towards Chara, and the controls still won’t answer.”

  “Distance?”

  “Twenty-four light years.”

  Stone ran her hands through her hair. Incredible. Chara was twenty-seven light-years from Earth. They had travelled over three light-years in as many minutes. That was much faster than Dr. Fowler’s research had suggested the drive was capable of.

  “Do you feel that Captain?” said Lieutenant Carver from her post at the navigation station.

  “What?” said Stone.

  Carver indicated the deck plating. “There’s a shimmy coming up through the hull.”

  Stone pushed off and extended her legs, locking her magnetic boots to the deck. “Yes, I feel it. Helm, report.”

  Lawson worked his control board. “Gravimetric shear is increasing.” He swiveled around, frowning. “These readings don’t make any sense.”

  Outside, the blue energy streamers seemed brighter and more numerous than they had been just a few moments ago.
An alert chirped from the helm console. “Warp field potential is building and I can’t stop it,” said Lawson. The shuddering intensified. “We’re accelerating again.”

  “The intercom crackled to life. “Engineering to bridge.”

  “Stone here.”

  Roland’s voice was strained . “Skipper, we can’t get to the computer core. The AI dropped the emergency bulkheads and locked us out.”

  “Understood,” said Stone. “Do you have a plan B?”

  There was a pause. “Yes, but you’re not going to like it. I can restart the reactor and dump the power into the shield grid. With enough power I might be able to disrupt the warp field around the ship. It might also tear the ship apart.”

  “You’re right, I don’t like it.” But if we don’t do it we might fly into a star. “Do it.”

  “Acknowledged. You better hold onto something.”

  Stone flipped on the ship-wide announcing circuit. “This is the captain. All hands prepare for deceleration.”

  There was a lurch not unlike that of an airplane striking turbulent cross-winds. Stone sat back in her chair and gripped her armrests. The ship shook again, more violently.

  “Hull stress increasing,” said Decker from the tactical station.

  “Helm, any change?” said Stone.

  “Negative,” said Lawson.

  The vibration doubled, then redoubled. It was hard for Stone to stay silent. Let Roland do his job. She looked down at her control display and watched as the shield modulation frequency shifted, then shifted again. The ship lurched so sharply that she nearly tumbled from her chair. She energized the restraining field.

  “Hull stress is critical,” said Decker. “The space frame will yield if we keep this up.”

  Stone could take it no longer. “Roland!” she barked into the open com channel.

  “I know,” he said. “We can’t make enough power to cancel this field. I’m taking the reactor offline.”

  The shuddering stopped. Stone cursed under her breath.

  Lawson slammed a fist into the frame of the helm console. “Blast it Captain, we’re still accelerating. At this rate we’ll reach Chara in fifteen minutes. Although we’re drifting a bit. I think we’re going to just miss the star. Our course now appears to be towards empty space.”

  “Roland,” said Stone. “Find a way to pull a plug on that crazy computer. I don’t care how you do it. Kill power to the entire ship if you have to.”

  There was a lurch. “Our speed just tripled,” said Lawson. “We’re passing Chara now.” On the screen, the bright blue dot they had been heading towards stretched for an instant into an infinitely long white streak, then slipped off to the side.

  Stone blinked. Something else had changed.

  “Where are the stars?” said a crewman.

  All around the bridge, the crew gawked out the windows. All starlight was gone. Only the strange coursing blue energy ribbons remained. We’re still moving, thought Stone. The engines are still humming along. “Lawson, where are we?”

  “There’s nothing on my indicators. I can’t get a bearing.”

  “Impossible. Ensign Carver, full scan.”

  “I already did one,” said Carver.

  Stone activated her chair’s servo and swiveled around to regard her science officer. The young woman was engrossed in her displays at the back of the bridge. “And?”

  “There’s nothing. Except…wait a minute.” Carver’s face transformed into a horrified stare as she watched her screens. “Wait, this can’t be!”

  Carver looked up from her controls and locked eyes with Stone as the collision alarm sounded.

  ∆∆∆

  The fighting had stopped. Clouds of debris hung all about Sledgim. Ruba’s remaining ships, including the King’s own, were powered down and awaiting their fate.

  With the preparations to evacuate his ship almost complete, Mog readied himself for his final act.

  He paced the length of the bridge, visiting the empty stations one by one. The chairs were still warm, the scent of their recent occupants lingering like ghosts. Fear. Despair. Insanity. He could smell death on them.

  Ramas, if you’re real, then I’m sorry. Let my crew escape this place. I offer myself for their sake.

  He would never see any of them again, that much was certain.

  The com system chirped. He flipped on the channel but said nothing.

  “We’re almost ready to go,” said Ryal after a moment. His voice was somber, deflated. “All escape pods and light craft are full.”

  “Understood. Launch on my signal. Not a moment before.”

  Mog returned to his command chair and sat down. There’s nothing more you could have done. He keyed in the collision course, then lifted the safety protocol from the antimatter reactor and prepared to divert all power to the engines. Not yet. Can’t give it away yet.

  His control panel beeped. He turned to his sensor display, expecting to find that the Ta’Krell had opened fire on the planet. But that wasn’t it.

  It was a strange power reading—an anomaly was forming in the center of the Ta’Krell flagship. The Narma Kull was very close now. Mog had been flying her in, bow pointed slightly away from the enemy, with all offensive and defensive systems powered down. He was going slow, announcing a message of surrender on all channels.

  So far they had let him approach. They hadn’t fired, but he was still too far away to spring his trap.

  “Nazpah.”

  The Ta’Krell supercruiser loomed before him, victorious. What were they doing? What ungodly weapon could they be unleashing now? Mauria, engulfed in flame.

  “Prepare to launch,” said Mog. “Twenty seconds.”

  “Goodbye,” said Ryal.

  Mog bowed his head. “Goodbye, my good friend. Good luck. Ten seconds.”

  The space around the Ta’Krell flagship was bending in and out, distorting the light passing through the area. The ship itself, although still intact, appeared to be flexing along every axis.

  Suddenly, a blue-white flash enveloped the Ta’Krell ship. Mog glanced towards Sledgim. The planet was still there. He looked back.

  “Mog, do we launch?”

  Ryal’s voice was light-years away. “Mog? Mog!”

  The enemy vessel seemed to be drifting, drifting, and drifting… except it was moving apart from itself. White-hot gas and flame erupted from the parting line down its middle. Mog stood up, mouth agape. She’s come asunder.

  “Can’t wait any longer,” said Ryal. “Launching escape pods.”

  “Hold!” Mog bellowed.

  Internal detonations sent pieces of hull flying from both sections of the Ta’Krell ship until there was nothing left but a single wing and a dense, expanding cloud of junk. A dark shape came flying out of the debris field. The screen zoomed in to reveal a rectangular ship. It was large, but not nearly as big as the Ta’Krell vessel. The twin pods at the rear of the vessel were glowing red.

  “Mog, what’s going on up there?” said Ryal.

  “Get everyone back up here.”

  “Commander?”

  “Target destroyed. Repeat, target destroyed. Abort the evacuation! All hands, battle stations!”

  ∆∆∆

  It was dead silent in the brig. Morgan released his white-knuckle grip from the webbing on the wall. He and Liz looked at each other.

  “We’ve stopped,” said Liz.

  And we’re still alive, thought Morgan. Only a few seconds ago, the computer had been blaring on about a collision warning. His body ached from all the jolts and bumps it had taken. No one had designed the brig for comfort, let alone sudden changes in acceleration. If not for the webbing on the walls, Morgan and Liz would have bounced around in the small room like balls in a pinball machine.

  “There’s light out there,” said Liz, looking out the window. “Come and see.”

  Morgan did. Far off, barely visible from the small window, was the sun. But it was strange-looking. The color was off. “That’
s not our sun, is it,” said Morgan. It wasn’t a question.

  “No, it’s not,” said Liz. “This is amazing. We’re in another solar system!”

  Morgan was staring out the window. As distressing as that was, two other things were bothering him even more. For one, where were the stars? And, more importantly…

  “Hey, what the heck is that?” said Liz, pointing.

  She’d seen it too. A huge metal something, glistening in the light of the strange sun as it drifted below them. Morgan squinted. There were multiple smaller objects surrounding it. Shrapnel?

  “Did we hit something?” said Liz.

  There was a small burst of light as something just out of view exploded. Morgan felt a sinking feeling as he watched glowing embers shoot across his field of view. This can’t be good.

  ∆∆∆

  The bridge was suddenly bathed in yellow light. It had happened so quickly that the aft windows took a moment to energize their tint mechanisms. “Status report,” said Stone, shading her eyes.

  “We’ve dropped to sublight!” said Lawson. “There’s a star behind us and it’s not the sun. It’s not Chara either.”

  “Confirmed,” said Carver. “It doesn’t match anything on record. It’s a small G-type main sequence star, 0.89 Sol. There’s another object on the scopes, bearing ten degrees to port, thirteen degrees elevation.”

  Everyone moved to look out the forward window. The planet was blue-gray. Blankets of ice swaddled both hemispheres. An alien world! Stone frowned. They had come out of warp awfully close to the planet. Just the slightest miscalculation and we’d have warped through the freaking thing. But it wasn’t a human making those calculations now was it?

  “Captain,” said an officer from one of the side stations. “There’s a field of objects behind us.” The man shook his head and rechecked his readings. “I’m showing multiple metallic signatures. Iron, titanium, aluminum, and many alloys I can’t identify. And there’s intermittent power surges emanating from the field. It almost looks like debris from a ship.”

  “Put it on the imager,” said Stone.

  The forward section of the bridge melted away as the holographic display filled the space. The field of glowing scrap metal was enormous. Twisted shards spiraled away in all directions. Some items were more complex. Machinery perhaps? Is that from us? She checked her status display. No pressure loss. If we were damaged that badly we’d know it.