by Robert Culp
“I’ve started the clock,” says the weapons tech.
“Thrumlee is prepared to receive. We’re in the upper reaches of the atmosphere.”
“One minute,” declares the weapons tech.
We all watch the view screen.
“Two minutes.” She should be coming out soon.
No one breathes.
“Three minutes.” This is taking too long. Where is she?
“Athena, this is Thrumlee, where the hells are you?”
“Passage…” her communication is broken and distorted. “…ternate exit.”
“Four minutes.”
“Hull temperature of Thrumlee’s shuttle?”
Celeste is at the intelligence station, staring into the displays. “She’s warming up, but still safe.” We can see some parts of the fueler begin to glow.
“Five minutes.”
In my headset I hear, “Damn you, Athena! Get your android ass out here! Sonia, do some of that miracle psionic shit!” Shawna isn’t panicking, but she’s close.
The bridge crew isn’t obvious about it, but they all sneak glances at me to teleport her out. I can’t. I’ve never been on that ship and I have no idea where she is on it. And I can’t imagine she’s stationary enough anyway. Even if I could relax myself enough to do it, I couldn’t get her out. “I…I can’t,” I whisper. “It’s all up to her.”
“Six minutes.”
“Shawna, port side.” One strong point about being an android is she is quite capable of keeping all emotion out of her voice. Apparently, she found—more likely made—an alternate exit.
“I’m coming around!” Shawna, not so much when it comes to emotional control. On the viewer we see the shuttle cross over to the port side. “Tally ho!”
“Yes?” Athena says.
“No! I mean I see you!” Without being told to, the helmsman has moved us to a better vantage point. There is an Athena-sized hole in the hull. It was clearly made from the inside.
“I have Athena on sensor. She’s away from the ship,” Celeste says. “Thrumlee is closing on her position…she has her.”
“Prophecy, this is Thrumlee. I have Athena. We are RTB.”
“Thrumlee, this is Prophecy,” Chief Nicholson says. “Roger that.”
“I do not ever want Athena mad at me,” Rikk mutters.
“No,” I agree. “You do not. Nor any other DEBI class android.” Now that all of that is over, we can get on to business as usual. “Navigator, plot a course for Jigya’asu, Helm as soon as he has it and all Prophecy personnel and craft are aboard be prepared to get us underway.”
“Jigya’asu, aye,” says the navigator.
“Wilco,” echoes the helmsman.
In a matter of minutes Athena and Shawna enter the bridge. Both are wearing APE suits. It makes sense for Shawna; she was flying in a depressurized shuttle. I would have thought Athena would have opted for armor. Of course, she probably didn’t imagine she’d have to punch her way off the ship. I take her all in. She doesn’t have a hair out of place. Her APE suit is dirty and torn. I’m not concerned until I see her hands. Where her gauntlets should be there are only canvas and plasteel tatters. Then I see her actual hands. The material—skin—is torn in several places. She follows my gaze then meets my eyes. “I am still functional, Captain. Some minor lacerations and abrasions I will tend to later.”
“Very well,” I turn my gaze to Shawna. “And you, Commander?”
“Nothing a cold beer won’t address, Boss. And a steak. Did we miss it?” she looks to the view screen.
“Estimating two minutes to impact,” Celeste says from the intelligence station. Everyone finds a reason to look at the view screen. It’s hard to blame them, what they’re about to see is—hopefully—a once in a lifetime sight.
“Intel, are you recording?” I ask.
I hear a few buttons get pressed. “We are now, ma’am.”
“One minute.” We can see the fiery contrail of the ship pushing through the atmosphere centered on the viewer.
“Thirty seconds.”
The impact is…impressive. “Sensors?”
“Debris, rock, dust, water, as expected.” We see a fireball and then a cloud of dust and smoke spreading across the ocean. “Odds of all three ships annihilated are in excess of ninety percent, without actually looking at it we can’t be sure.”
“Shawna…”
“Negative,” she says as she shakes her head for emphasis. “The atmosphere is way too thick for that right now. If it doesn’t have a negative effect on the craft it will on the pilot. I’m not sending anyone into that crap.”
“Reminds me of that soup you flew through when we broke Gallagher loose.”
“And I still have nightmares about that. That was a lot of wind in comparatively clean air,” she points at the view screen. “That ain’t clean air.”
I raise my hands in surrender, “All right, you win. There will be no manned flight. Celeste, why shouldn’t we send a probe?”
“Aside from the same reasons?” She has joined me as they all stand around my chair. “I’d recommend sending a recoverable one. In truth, I’d prefer a fire-and-forget but the idea is to leave no trace of us. But the only difference is there’s not a pilot to scare.”
Rikk raises a finger. “If I may offer an opinion, we all saw the same fireball. I’d venture to say that island is an atoll now. Or will be, when the water rushes back in. If I’m not mistaken, that skinny expanding ring the sensors see through the cloud is a tsunami. I understand the desire for visual confirmation, but I feel confident in elevating the XO’s estimation to an excess of ninety-eight percent.”
I stare at the screen. I want to be sure. “Captain,” the intelligence officer says. “The large debris should settle in an hour, two at the most. The smaller pieces will take longer. I estimate that in one planetary rotation, we’ll be able to see—with the sensors and from here—well enough to determine the extent of destruction.”
“One local day,” I say to no one in particular. “We can do that. We have no deadlines to worry about.”
“Good!” says Shawna. “I’m starving, let’s go eat!”
I stand and lean in to her, then to Rikk. “After you two shower, you both stink.” Shawna gives Rikk a lascivious leer. His cheeks flush just a bit. “I didn’t mean toget—oh, the hell with it!”
“Captain is off the bridge; XO has the conn.” I hear her trying not to laugh.
In the chow hall I am treated to a blissful meal. It’s more than just Shawna, Rikk, and me. Celeste stayed on watch while Athena went to get her hands repaired. But Chief Nicholson as well as a few of the pilots and flight ops people have joined us. So Shawna doesn’t ask us those penetrating questions I know are brewing in her sordid, schoolgirl mind. But that won’t last long and I can’t avoid her forever. And she calls me on it. While the others are returning their trays—of course Rikk takes mine over my protestations—she leans in to me. “You can’t keep me distracted forever. You’re going to tell me everything. Resistance and avoidance are futile.”
“If it were anybody else,” I take a sip from my beer, “I’d say that’s not very ladylike.”
“‘Anybody else’?” She is literally taken aback. “Why the qualification?”
“Who that knows you would expect you to act like a lady?”
“Me-ow!”
The following morning, a fairly relative term in this situation, Prophecy is in a geostationary orbit over the impact area. “Sensors?” Athena is at the Intelligence station; Celeste is off watch. She threatened all of us with grievous bodily harm if we woke her. Have I been ditching my duty rotations?
“There is still a lot of dust,” she answers. “But I can make out features, the topography has changed, there’s a sizable lagoon where the ships were. I cannot make out any remnants of any of the vessels. Destruction has been achieved.”
“Intelligence, are there large pieces of debris?”
“Without doubt, ma’am,”
he says. “But I don’t think they’ll be an issue.”
“Convince me, please.”
“Every planet has the odd geologic find that they can’t explain. They get made into legends, and then some journalistic type tries to sensationalize it as evidence of alien contact, but the populace tends to ignore such.”
“Very well. Helm I believe you have our next destination plotted. Move us out to Transit space and get us underway.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Captain, this is Engineering. The capacitor prototype is ready for testing.”
No, they couldn’t call me while I was on watch or up and moving or anything, could they? No, they have to call while I’m in bed! I reach for my perCom, “Very well, I’ll be there in thirty. Wait, where are you testing it?”
“We have a containment unit set up here.”
“Negative, if that thing goes sideways I don’t want it taking out anything we’re sure to need. Move your equipment to the shuttle bay. We’ll figure out a way to test it off the ship.”
“Will do, ma’am. May I remind you we’re in Transit?”
“Duly noted, that’s my problem, Chief. I’ll handle it. MacTaggert out.” I thumb off the channel.
“Duty calling?” Rikk asks sleepily.
“Of course, it’s one of the least convenient times.” I open another channel. “Bridge, this is the Captain.”
“Go ahead, ma’am.” Celeste answers.
“We’re going to do a test for the prototype capacitor. We’ll need to drop out of Transit for a period of time, a few hours at the most.”
“We’re on your timetable, ma’am. Give the word and we’ll roll back the throttle.”
“Roger, I’ll notify you from Engineering.”
“Would you be interested in the Navigator’s reaction?”
“Probably not, but please tell him he’s justified. MacTaggert out.”
“Want me to leave?” Rikk asks.
“That’s up to you.” I kiss him and head to the ’fresher for a quick shower. “But if you do, lock the door when you leave unless Clark is at his desk.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jenkins is in his element: Teaching. “So we’ve attached the capacitor to a maintenance droid. We’ve programmed the droid to activate the battery once it is at least a hundred kilometers from the ship. I figured you didn’t want to put it on a shuttle, ma’am.”
“You figured correctly. How do you intend to measure output?”
“We’ve attached a few rotating strobe lights to the top. They have no power source other than the capacitor, so once the droid activates the battery—by closing that switch there—if everything works correctly the light assembly will start spinning. Is this a good time to ask why you’re willing to drop out of Transit to test this capacitor but weren’t for the stealth ship trials?”
“I suppose it’s as good as any,” I reply. “And the answer is because if the stealth ship exploded, it wouldn’t have created a huge toxic cloud, so testing it near a populated planet was not that big a deal. That’s not the case with Gorb’s coffee can. If it blows, I want it nine light years from anywhere.”
He nods, “Fair enough.”
“Additionally, had the stealth test gone sideways, while I have the utmost respect for Doctor Brabdo and his people, I wanted to be near a fully functional hospital with a trauma center. Most inhabited planets have at least one of those.” He nods in satisfaction. “I’m going to ask the obvious question,” I say. “Do we know that the lights work?”
“Tested them before we camed here,” Gorb says around a chunk of chocolate. “They work. Bright, too!”
“So, Captain,” Jenkins says, “If you’ll give the order, we can kick the droid through the door.”
I nod at him and use the holoCom on the wall, “Bridge, this is the Captain. Take us out of Transit please.”
“Wilco, ma’am. Station keeping?”
“Negative, drifting is fine for the moment.” The navigator will probably challenge me to a duel or something for the extra work I’m creating for him. Outside of Engineering the Transit drives make a murmur that quickly fades into the background noise. If a person is looking for it, they can sometimes feel a vibration pulse through the deck plating. Both are now gone. Prophecy is out of Transit but is still moving forward as we’ve done nothing to prevent it. Just not as fast.
“Okay, if those of you not in APE suits will leave the immediate area, we’ll get the test underway.” Gorb and Jenkins are wearing APE but nobody else is. Celeste and I move into the observation gallery. Gorb enters a few commands on a handheld unit and the maintenance robot with the battery prototype strapped to it trundles to the bay door. The alarm sounds as the door opens. And then the robot walks through the door and off the ship. And since there’s no air to impede it, it’s moving at the same speed we are. “Captain, if we could maneuver the ship forward about 100 kilometers, please?”
I open a channel to the bridge and give the command. Through the open bay doors, we can see the telltale glow from the maneuvering drive. After the bay doors close Gorb and Jenkins join us in the gallery. Jenkins activates a viewer to access the cameras that monitor craft approaching the ship. The maneuver drives continue to fire and the robot quickly fades from what would be unaided view. I never get used to the view; especially if there are no planets around.
“One hundred kilometers,” Gorb announces. “The light should be…there!” Our eyes haven’t left the viewer, so we all see the rhythmic pulsing of yellow light. Gorb is ecstatic. He’s doing his “happy dance.” “See? I told you it would work. I told you, Chief Woss! I told you, Cap’m Shownya! I told everyone!”
We all smile, at him and at the test until we see the pulsing speed up, the light getting brighter. And a pulse of very bright white light follows that. We’ve all seen enough explosions to know when we’re looking at one. Now we’re all quiet.
“Captain, this is the bridge,” Athena says.
“Go ahead,” Jenkins says at the holoCom. “She’s listening.”
“We monitored the explosion. It appears the capacitor was working. It was creating power for the light and the motor but something in the apparatus failed. The unit was transferring power that had nowhere to go resulting in a feedback situation which led to the explosion.”
“Roger that, get us into Transit and back underway when it’s convenient please.” The navigator will probably check his data. We shouldn’t be here too much longer.
“Wilco, ma’am. The recording will be saved in the library system.”
“Very well, MacTaggert out.” I turn to Jenkins and Gorb. Gorb is hanging his head and moving from foot to foot. He’s crestfallen. I put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, buddy, don’t look so sad!” I hand him a piece of candy I keep in my pocket for just such occasions. “The good news is your design works; we just have to maybe tweak some things. Like verify that the device can use all the energy we send to it. I call it a success.”
“But it blowed up.” Gorb’s chin begins to quiver. “This would be a good day for lollipops.”
“Yes,” Jenkins pats him on the other shoulder. “But the light came on first. The design is good, just not perfect.”
“Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, my watch starts in a few hours and I’m hungry. Oh, Chief Jenkins, at your convenience, please run through the software of the device we got from that pirate. I want to know if it’s a teleporter, a time machine, or both. Feel free to get help from Athena if you need it.”
“Captain is on the bridge.”
“Report.”
“According to the worlds almanac, this planet is Jigya’asu,” says Celeste. “It is a class ten world; approximately 48% of the surface is water. We have detected an orbital construct, a space station of some sort. It is large enough to be an orbital starport. Of course at this point, we don’t know if they are capable of interstellar travel”
“Captain,” says Chief Nichol
son. “We are being hailed.”
“Looks like that’s a ‘yes,’ XO,” I grin at her. “Hail on audio, please.”
“Unidentified cruiser, this is Station Gamma Echo. This is a restricted world. The Sureman Corporation placed it under quarantine four years ago. State your intentions, please.”
“Station Gamma Echo, this is Prophecy. Our mission is scientific. We are cataloging worlds to update information in our World’s Almanac. We would like to collect some information, particularly air, soil, and water samples. We are willing to share the same information of the other worlds in this sector. With your permission, we will launch two probes. One will stay in your upper atmosphere; the other will visit your ocean. The impact on your biosphere is minimal. We will then be on our way. May we proceed?”
I mute the microphone and turn to Celeste. “Do a library search for the Sureman Corporation, please.”
By the time I have the microphone off mute we have a reply. “Your request is denied. As I said, this world is restricted and under quarantine. Please be on your way.”
Celeste gives me a “thumbs up.” She must have found something. “As you wish, Station Gamma Echo. We will be underway as soon as possible. Sadly, we’ve had some irregularities with our Transit drive. I’m going to order some maintenance inspections while it is off line. It shouldn’t take us more than a handful of hours and we’ll be out of here.”
“Very well. Maintain your distance from the planet. You have six hours to sort out your ‘irregularities.’ Longer than that and we presume your intentions are hostile. Gamma Echo out.”
Celeste approaches me reading a portable data unit. I turn off the holoCom. “The Sureman Corporation is based in the Lucan Sector, on the planet Sion. Their primary product is cybernetic apparatus for a long list of military and paramilitary organizations.”
“Peachy. Send out the two stealth fighters for a few cloaked passes. I’m not sure who wants all this information but I’d rather not show up at Atlas with holes in our data collection plan.”