by G J Ogden
Sterling frowned. “So, you’re saying that Colicos figured out how the Sa’Nerran brain responds when the things hiss ‘hello’, then mapped that across to humans?”
“Essentially, yes,” Graves replied. “However, the fundamental problem is that we have never been able to know when a Sa’Nerran is saying ‘hello’ or even if they say ‘hello’ at all.”
Sterling massaged the bridge of his nose with his fingers and thumb. He wasn’t particularly interested in the technicalities of how things worked or didn’t work. His head was already hurting trying to understand what Graves was telling him.
“My theory is that Colicos found a sort of neural ‘Rosetta stone’,” Graves went on, unperturbed by the apparent mental suffering of his captain.
“The only stones I’m getting are kidney stones, Commander,” Sterling replied, a little grouchily. “What does that mean in layman’s terms?”
“Essentially, Colicos discovered a key that enabled him to map the corresponding brain activity of humans and Sa’Nerra,” Graves continued, showing no sign of offence at his captain’s crabbiness. “It would be fascinating to learn what this key was, but it is a mystery for a more peaceful time.”
Sterling nodded. He was grateful that, despite his macabre personality, Graves did not possess the insufferable inquisitiveness of his former chief engineer, Emissary Clinton Crow.
“It goes beyond language, however,” Graves went on. “Thoughts, actions, desires, wants, needs… it can all be captured and translated.”
“And manipulated?” Sterling wondered, still pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I believe so,” Graves replied. “We are looking at the basis of the Sa’Nerran neural control weapon.”
Banks stepped forward; her brow also scrunched up into a painfully-confused frown. “But the old man on Thrace Colony said that the Sa’Nerran warrior he saw spoke,” she cut in. “Didn’t Colicos say that neural education was a bust? If that’s the case, how was the alien managing to speak in English?”
Commander Graves shrugged. “I’m afraid I have no concrete answers to give you, Commander,” the medical officer replied. “We will need to find Colicos to learn more. Alternatively, you will need to find me some live human and Sa’Nerran test subjects to conduct my own experiments on.”
Razor laughed, believing Graves’ statement to be a joke. Then she noticed that Sterling and Banks had remained straight faced and fell silent again.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, Commander,” Sterling replied. “But keep that idea on the back burner, just in case.” Razor’s white eyebrows rose up her forehead, but she continued to remain silent. “I’ll leave the science to you scientists,” Sterling continued, pushing away from the workbench. He turned and pointed to the newly-discovered aperture on the wall screen then glanced over at Razor. “Relay the co-ordinates to Ensign Keller then figure out how we can surge through that new aperture.”
“Aye, Captain, but realistically that could take days,” Razor replied, sounding a little put out. “This is an entirely new aperture configuration. I’d need to study it more closely then adapt our surge field generator. Ideally, we should send some test probes through first, to make sure we don’t end up in another galaxy, or another universe entirely.”
Sterling knew that his engineer’s reply was entirely reasonable. However, they didn’t have time for reasonable. He needed, and demanded, only the exceptional.
“Computer, how long will it take us to reach that aperture at maximum speed?” Sterling said, casting his eyes toward the ceiling.
“By ‘that aperture’ I presume you mean the one that Lieutenant Shade recently discovered, Captain?” the quirky gen-fourteen AI replied. Its cheerful tenor was at odds with the facetious tone of the question.
“Yes, computer, obviously that one,” Sterling replied, shaking his head.
“Four hours, twelve minutes and thirty-two seconds from the point at which I finish this sentence, Captain,” the computer replied, breezily.
“You have four hours, Lieutenant,” Sterling said, fixing his chief engineer with a determined stare. Razor was new, but she had already learned that when her captain was open to input and when he just wanted the job done, even if it he was asking the impossible.
“Aye, Captain, I’ll get right on it,” Razor answered, straightening to attention.
“Pull this off and there’s a commendation in it for you,” Sterling added, as he headed toward the door. “Though I’m going to have to start rationing them, otherwise I’ll soon be without a ship’s engineer.”
Sterling then set off along the narrow corridor outside the science lab with Banks at his side. “We’ve got some time to kill, so how about grabbing a coffee?” he said, returning a salute from a crew member that passed them by.
“Sure, and I might try out one of those new vintage meal trays from Middle Star too,” Banks replied, with the same breezy nonchalance as the computer.
Sterling scowled at her. “You must have eaten at least three pots of stew on that flea-ridden world. How the hell can you still be hungry?” He then realized the stupidity of his own question and raised a hand to cut off Banks’ unnecessary response. “Never mind, I already know the answer. You’re always hungry, right?”
Banks smiled then shrugged and hit the call button for the elevator. The doors opened and Sterling found himself staring down at Jinx the beagle hound.
“Jinx, how did you get out?” Banks said, kneeling down and vigorously petting the dog, who appeared to enjoy the attention immensely. “She must have snuck out after me before the doors closed.”
Sterling frowned as he stepped inside the elevator. “I hope that animal hasn’t left any deposits in the ship,” he said, grouchily. “I waded through enough crap on that planet.”
Banks stood up and slapped Sterling on the arm with the back of her hand. As usual, it hurt like hell. “Don’t be so miserable, Captain,” Banks replied. “A ship’s dog is good for morale
The beagle sat down and placed a paw on Sterling’s boot, peering up at him with large brown eyes. He scowled down at the dog then pressed the button for deck two.
“Just don’t feed it any number twenty-sevens,” Sterling said, as the elevator doors began to close. “Or Acting-Ensign Jinx will end up as the first dog ever to make a home in Sa’Nerran space…”
Chapter 18
A gateway to the unknown
Captain Sterling rested forward on his console, tapping his finger against the metal plating on the side in the usual place. In front of him on the viewscreen was an empty starscape at the fringe of the Thrace Colony system. Yet if Lieutenant Razor’s analysis was correct, the emptiness hid a unique, undiscovered aperture.
“Are you sure this is the spot, Lieutenant?” Sterling glanced over to where Razor was working on the consoles at the rear of the bridge. “I’m so used to seeing aperture beacons flashing in my face, I’m struggling to believe there’s anything there.”
Razor continued working for a couple of seconds then turned to face her captain. “Aye, sir, it’s definitely there,” the engineer replied. “Whether we can surge through it is another matter, though.”
Sterling glanced down at the readings on his console, continuing to drum his fingers as he absorbed the information. Rising to the challenge, Lieutenant Razor had spent the last four hours re-writing the book on interstellar surge mechanics. Rallying anyone on the ship with the ability to hold a spanner to her aid, she’d then reconfigured the Invictus’ surge field generator to speak the same language as the aperture. Razor had explained that, in principle, the Invictus should be able to traverse the portal. However, his engineer had also been at pains to point out the many risks and variables involved.
“I wonder how many of these secret alien apertures there are throughout the Void,” said Banks, frowning at the viewscreen, “and why we have never seen them being used before.”
Sterling had spent some of the four-hour journey time considering
this question and had come to an unfortunate conclusion. It was a conclusion that had already been postulated by his brilliant engineer.
“Given the tactical advantage they offer, my guess is that they’re unstable,” Sterling replied.
The right eyebrow of his first officer lifted by half an inch as he said this. “Sounds like fun,” Banks replied, sarcastically.
“Captain, I’d still strongly recommend sending an aperture relay probe through first,” Razor said, snatching back Sterling’s attention. “I have taken the liberty of modifying one for this purpose. The data it records and hopefully transmits back to us should help to iron out the kinks in my surge calculations.”
“What sort of kinks are we talking about, Lieutenant?” Banks asked, beating Sterling to the punch.
“The sort of kinks that could mean we exit the aperture in a billion pieces. Or not at all,” Razor said, flatly.
Banks glanced over to Sterling, eyebrow raised even higher. It seemed clear that his first officer was in favor of a trial run. However, time was also of the essence. Every second they wasted, the Sa’Nerran armada made their way deeper into Fleet space. Yet, he also couldn’t argue that their impact on the war effort would be radically diminished should their atoms end up dispersed across a thousand light years.
“Okay, Lieutenant, send a relay probe, but make it quick,” Sterling said, turning back to his engineer. “Program the thing to power down once it has transmitted the data. We don’t want to tip-off anyone on the other side that we’re coming.”
“Aye, sir,” Razor replied before setting to work configuring the relay probe.
“And perhaps load that stowaway hound inside the probe while you’re at it,” Sterling added, with a little more volume for effect. “We can study this new aperture’s effects on biology at the same time.”
Banks shot him another look, but Sterling judged it to be considerably less friendly than the last one he’d received. “You know what happened to the Ancient Mariner when he shot his lucky charm,” Banks said, still giving Sterling the evil eye.
“Probe ready, Captain,” Razor called out from the rear of the bridge.
“Launch it, Lieutenant,” Sterling said, returning to tapping his finger impatiently against his console.
The probe shot out ahead on the viewscreen and moments later it was consumed by the invisible interstellar gateway.
“The probe has entered aperture space. Telemetry lost,” Razor said, giving a running commentary. An anxious few seconds followed while they waited for the probe to rematerialize on the other side of the aperture and begin transmitting.
“Probe reacquired,” Razor announced, finally breaking the tension. “I’m receiving data.”
“Well, at least it’s still in one piece,” said Banks, returning to her more optimistic outlook.
“It sustained some structural damage during transit, Captain,” Razor added, while continuing to flit between the various consoles at the rear of the bridge. “The internal power core failed. It’s running on reserve cells only…”
“So, where does that leave us, Lieutenant?” said Sterling, glancing back at his officer. “Can we surge or not?”
Razor continued to work, hopping between stations like an orchestral percussionist. She then finally stopped and stood tall, hands pressed to the small of her back. Her chest was heaving slightly as she regained her breath.
“Aye, Captain, we can surge,” Razor replied. “I’ve made some adjustments to our surge field parameters, though I’d still expect a bumpy ride.”
“What else is new?” said Banks.
Sterling nodded then turned to Ensign Keller, who was keenly awaiting his order.
“Take us in Lieutenant,” he said before turning to Lieutenant Shade. “Set condition battle stations. Let’s be prepared for anything.”
The general alert tone sounded then the lights reduced, giving way to the low-level red strips that encircled the bridge.
“Thirty seconds to aperture perimeter,” Keller called out.
Sterling found his grip on the side of his console tightening.
“Weapons and regenerative armor at full power,” Shade called out, adding to the chorus. “The ship is at battle stations.”
“Ten seconds to aperture perimeter,” Keller said, continuing his truncated countdown.
Sterling counted down the remaining seconds in his head. However, before his count had reached zero, the ship and his body were consumed inside the aperture. The unsettling feeling of disembodied thought seemed to persist for longer than usual. However, even judging time while inside the sub-dimension between apertures was like trying to guess the passage of time while asleep and dreaming. Suddenly, he exploded back into reality and was instantly hit with an intense wave of nausea and vertigo. Sterling thrust his hands out in front of him, trying to use his console to steady himself, but his arms just flailed helplessly in front of his body. The next thing he knew he was on the ground, his legs still on the command platform, but his head and back on the main deck. He saw Banks to his left. She was trying to push herself up, but even the muscles in her powerful arms and legs refused to obey her commands.
“Report!” Sterling called out, though the words sounded slurred and muddled in his own ears. “Report!” he tried again, managing to sound more coherent the second time. However, there was no reply from any station.
Finding that his coordination was beginning to return, Sterling pushed himself up to a crouch before his head again began to spin. Grasping hold of the stem of his captain’s console, Sterling hugged it like a sailor hugging the mast of a ship in the midst of a violent storm. Slowly, he climbed hand-over-hand up the stem, dragging his disorientated body back to its feet.
“Helm control is down,” Ensign Keller called out. The pilot was back in his chair, though was grasping onto the sides as if his life depended on it.
“Weapons down,” Shade reported next. “Armor buckling…”
Sterling tried his own console. It was still responding, but his hands were still too unsteady to operate it. After several fumbled attempts to bring up a damage control panel, he saw that their reactor core was destabilizing.
“Lieutenant!” Sterling called out, forcing his body to turn and look for his engineer. “Initiate emergency reactor shut down, now, before it’s too late!”
Razor was also clawing herself back to her feet. “I’m on it,” she cried back, though Sterling could barely make out the words.
“Contact ahead!” Banks called out.
The warning cry was like a bucket of ice water over his head. Sterling compelled his body to turn again then saw a Sa’Nerran Heavy Cruiser on the viewscreen. His head was still spinning, but even through his blurry eyes, he could tell it wasn't a design he recognized. Gritting his teeth, he stared down at his console, trying to make sense of the flashing lights and jumble of words that made up the status updates. He knew they couldn’t fight, which meant fleeing was their only option. However, considering the battering the ship and the crew had taken from the first surge, he held out little hope they’d survive a second.
“Wait…” Banks then called out, filling Sterling with the faintest flicker of hope. “The cruiser appears to be powered down.” Banks frowned at her console. She had recovered her senses far more quickly than Sterling had managed to. “I don’t understand. Maybe it’s a derelict or another ship that was damaged during a surge.”
Sterling didn’t care why the Sa’Nerran ship was inactive – only that it was. He glanced behind to Razor, who was tottering from console to console.
“Full reactor shutdown and restart initiated,” Razor said before slipping and dropping to one knee.
“What the hell happened, Lieutenant?” said Sterling. “You said the probe sustained some structural damage. The transition damned near tore us apart!”
Razor pushed herself back to her feet. She looked embarrassed and angry, though Sterling knew the look well – he’d seen it in the mirror many times duri
ng his own career. She was angry with herself for dropping the ball, not for being admonished.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Razor replied. “It appears that the damaging effects of the surge increase according to the mass and energy of the object making the transition.”
Sterling understood what his engineer was saying. It was like a leaf falling from a tree compared to a coconut. They both travelled the same distance, but due to the effects of gravity and air resistance, one hit a lot harder when it reached the end of its journey.
“I should have seen it, Captain,” Razor went on. “I take full responsibility.”
“This is my ship, and my responsibility alone, Lieutenant,” Sterling hit back. He then aimed at finger at his engineer. “Your responsibility is getting our systems back online. Right now, we’re in enemy territory with our pants around our ankles.”
“Aye, sir, I’m on it,” Razor replied, turning back to her console. “Reactor shutdown and restart in thirty…”
“Captain, we have another problem,” Banks said, from her station next to Sterling’s. “The cruiser is powering up. It appears that it was only dormant.”
Sterling closed his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath before turning to his first officer. “How long do we have?” he asked.
Banks worked her console then met Sterling’s eyes. “Sixty seconds until its core systems are online. Maybe double that before it can fire.”
Suddenly the reassuring thrum of the reactor and engine systems vanished and a deathly silence washed over the bridge.
“Reactor down. Life support on reserve cells.” Razor called out from the rear of the bridge.
“Get us back online as fast as you can, Lieutenant,” said Sterling, as lights all across the hull of the alien heavy cruiser flickered on. “I don’t care if we have crew floating through the halls. I need engines and weapons before that thing out there has a chance to fire.”