Tracking the Trailblazer (Colony Ship Trailblazer Book 1)

by John Thornton

  A huge outline in neon green cut across the window, taking up a third of the visible area. Within that outline, it was pure black, and no stars were visible. Outside of that illuminated frame, space was still black, but was sprinkled with stars of various intensities. Those spots of light were random, and diffuse, but absent within the displayed frame. Janae tried to image the sight without the frame, and her eyes just could not see the shape of the colony ship without the AI’s projected assistance. As the scout ship rotated in space, more and more of the utter blackness crept across the vista until no stars were visible at all anymore. Lastly, the frame itself slipped out of the perceived field of vision. All was black.

  “The thing is enormous!” Ken blurted out. “That must be kilometers long, and wide.”

  “Do you have some way of illuminating the surface?”

  “Yes,” Kimberly answered. “However, our exterior lighting will be insufficient to do much, but I am activating the exterior lights now.”

  A small beam pierced out and it illuminated a circular white area on the ship. The hull was a dull blue, and not at all flat. It surprised Ken to see such an irregular surface, where only a moment before it had been a deep black, and apparently, featureless plain. The light showed that on the hull there were scattered projections, mechanical parts, shapes of cubes, spheres, columns, and quadrilaterals. All that, and more, were lit up within that circle of light. The jumbled surface of the hull was so irregular, it reminded Janae of one of the exploded domes she had investigated. A wave of fear washed across her emotions, but she refused to give vent to it with words.

  “What are we seeing?” Ken asked. “I cannot make sense of the shapes, and I just cannot conceive of something this large, or am I just wrong in my perceptions?”

  Kimberly went on, “I am running estimations of the size. From the visual readings and scans, this looks to be a circular configuration of slightly over sixteen kilometers in diameter. We are about one third of the way from the center of that circular area. I have also detected more of the ship. I will need to pan out to show it, and that view will be displayed on the side of your screens.” A red arrow appeared on the small subsection. “That looks to be a section of the ship, which is estimated at roughly one and one-half kilometer wide, and is distinct from the circular area in front of us. I estimate the parts are connected, but our visual observations are hindered by our positioning here,” Kimberly announced.

  “The beacon is where? Should we be able to see the robotic probe?” Janae asked.

  “I am unable to locate the robotic probe or the beacon,” Kimberly replied.

  “How in the cosmos will we know where to dock?” Ken’s words were breathy and low.

  “A first for you? Right?” Janae tried to tease. She had swallowed her fears, doubts, and worries. “Really Ken, you not knowing where to make insertion?”

  Ken smiled at her and nodded, then replied, “Seriously, Janae, look at the scope of this thing?” Ken swept his arm across in front of him. “All dark, all quiet, all still.”

  “No sounds in space,” Janae replied. “Kimberly? If the robotic probe is missing, and the beacon is gone, where do we make connection?”

  “We have matched the velocity of the Trailblazer. Again, I am struck by the lack of speed of this colony ship. It is moving—and I have rechecked, recalibrated the instruments, and remeasured its velocity using four different techniques—at only a bit over 40,000 kilometers per hour.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, Janae, that is the speed of the Trailblazer.”

  “It is basically dead in space,” Ken interjected. “But alive inside, right?”

  “Wait, if it is going that slow—only about as fast as some of the first primitive rockets to the moon—how will it ever get through interstellar space?” Janae dropped her head, and held it in her hands. “The massive systems failures, it is a derelict.”

  Ken patted her shoulder, “Do not despair yet. The Trailblazer was designed for a journey lasting centuries. When we set up the teleportation receiving pad, we will have all the resources and technical expertise of Dome 17 to affect repairs, and the people in Dome 17 will no longer be facing their deadline.”

  Kimberly, the AI stated, “Our thruster fuel supply is sufficient to survey much of the Trailblazer to find a suitable docking port of some kind.”

  The FTL scout moved along parallel to the surface of the vast colony ship, but it was difficult to tell it was moving. The only sign was the fact that the objects lit up by the searchlight were shifting, actually, the searchlight’s focus was shifting, but, to the human occupants of the scout, it looked like the hull was moving across past them. The parade of strange fixtures continued with the beam of light projecting down onto the hull’s odd structures, old-style antennas, eerie pipe-works, shadowy recesses, and a myriad of other unknown, unidentified, and just odd-looking things. Overall, it remained a vast, bluish gray wasteland. No surface lights, no movements, no signs of any response to their presence.

  “Can we communicate with the Trailblazer?” Ken asked. “Knock on the doors for us, Kimberly. Tell them we are here.”

  “I have been monitoring for any transmissions, and have not found anything new. The automated distress signal which was reported from the records has not been located.”

  “A distress call?” Janae asked. “To whom?”

  “Excellent question, Janae. That remains a mystery. The distress call is only at light speed and was picked up by the probe, then sent back via FTL radio. The Trailblazer crew would know it might take decades for anyone to come to their rescue, especially considering it would take decades for the signal to be heard in the first place,” Kimberly stated. “I am still running scans, and my data is limited.”

  Ken added, “Like the loss of the beacon placed by the robotic probe, I find that distress call unusual. Janae, do you think they anticipated FTL flights?”

  “Who know?” Janae rubbed her head at her temple.

  The FTL scout’s thrusters fired again, and the scout moved closer to the surface of the hull. Suddenly, there was a rocking sensation which spun the scout about. It was not so much felt, as seen by the perception of the objects illuminated by the searchlight. They spun about wildly, which was different from the steady progressive movement they had been making as the scout flew.

  “We have encountered a repulsor field,” Kimberly announced.

  The shuttle fired its thrusters, and adjusted its flight to be stabilized—in relation to the Trailblazer—and the spotlight’s objects quit their perceived dancing about.

  “I am receiving a transmission via an antique mode,” Kimberly stated. “I am putting it on speakers now. I have not responded to its message.”

  “Unknown shuttle craft, you are in a restricted space way,” a man’s voice stated. “Do not violate the automated debris sensors. I cannot shut them down at that location. What habitat is your origin? What is your intention? Do not approach the hull again! Microparticle turrets are operational in restricted space ways.”

  “Strange accent,” Ken said, “but clearly a living human, using some kind of technology. What do we say?”

  “We need somewhere to land, but our story might be hard to explain. Kimberly, what do you think is our best response?”

  Before the AI could respond, the voice on the transmission again came on, “Unidentified shuttle, why are you at the bow? You are in a restricted space way. From which habitat did you launch? Are you tants?”

  Kimberly interjected, “I conjecture a male voice may have a better chance of successful interaction with another male, although, that is hard to estimate. Historically, machine voices, and females are not treated with the same assumed privilege as males. However, males also are historically more likely to be viewed an invaders, conquerors, and enemies, than are women or machines.”

  Janae looked at Ken who nodded in understanding.

  “Kimberly, connect me in. I will answer this man.”

  Ken cleared h
is throat, and then spoke, “Hello? I am in the scout ship, you called a shuttle. I need a safe place to make landing. Will you offer me your assistance? I need your help. Please?”

  There was no response.

  “Did they receive Ken’s words?”

  The AI Kimberly replied, “Readings show that they did.”

  Ken looked at Janae who just looked out at the hull. The circle from the spotlight was still on one section of the hull. She thought she could see some kind of tracked system on the surface which made a serpentine pathway around and between the structures.

  “Remain outside of the automated debris sensor range. The repulsor and microparticle turrets are functional on the entire bow of Ida. From what habitat did you originate? Why did you fly into a restricted space way? Who are you?”

  Ken replied, “I am lost as to my location. I just want to get safely back inside the Trailblazer. Please help me.”

  Janae looked at Ken with a wry smile, “Get safely back inside? Really? Starting out with a lie? Is that a good first impression?”

  Ken winked, “As long as it works, it is a good first impression. Besides, he already thinks I was from there. How do I explain to him I am from Dome 17, which I know he has never heard about?”

  There was a long delay in which no response came from the Trailblazer. Kimberly kept monitoring all the possible forms of transmission, but could detect no other signals. She was able to determine a rough approximation of where they had encountered what the radio voice had called, the automated debris sensor area. The scout was drifting in a steady manner consistent with the movement of the ship. Kimberly also was running multiple scans using all the abilities the scout offered, that was resulting in a lot of information, but no solid answers.

  After what felt like an eon of waiting, the voice returned on the radio signal, “Shuttle, you may dock at Hanger 5 of Ida,”

  Another voice, a female one, interrupted, “Diego? What is happening here? I was alerted that a possible tant was outside our bow? Is that true?”

  The male voice responded to the female, but the conversation came through the transmission, “Not a tant, but I think it is just some fool from a low-tech habitat who is playing with a runabout. The repulsor system identified the shuttle as a runabout variant, but the driver says he is lost and wants to get inside. I asked what habitat he was from, and I do not think the jerk even knows. Can you believe that? I can lead him to Hanger 5, easy enough—if he can follow directions. Only a slight chance of an MS in that area.”

  “Fools playing with machinery! Bloody idiots are getting themselves killed off all the time,” the female cursed, using some word phrases that Janae and Ken did not recognize. It sounded a bit like some ancient language, but neither could identify it aside from the emotional baggage which expressed disgust, and contempt. “Land the moron in Hanger 5, but have a full security team, and a decontamination team in place before bringing the sap in. If that runabout hits an MS out there it is only the fool’s blood who gets shed. I will make a report.”

  The man’s voice then altered a bit in pitch as he readdressed the scout, “Shuttle, I will guide you to safety. What is your name?”

  “Ken, and what is yours?”

  “Call me Diego, and listen to me carefully. On the cockpit’s left side, you will see an illuminated—lit up—button. Press it and I will remotely pilot that runabout back inside here. Right now, I only have you on radar, and lidar. I need your—just push the button, I will take care the rest.”

  “Oh, Diego, I do not see any button like that,” Ken replied. “What do I do now?” He rolled his eyes as he played the part of being helpless and in distress.

  “It will be a yellow button with a light on it. It is about as big as your thumbnail, and right next to the gauges which show fuel, temperature, and gas status. You are in the front seat of the runabout, right?”

  “I do not see anything like you are talking about, sorry.”

  “Well, listen, Ken, if you get too close to the ship, the repulsors will push you away. Come at the ship too fast, and the defenses will shoot, and you will die. Now, you must be able to drive the runabout somehow. Can you follow lights on the hull?”

  “Sure,” Ken replied. “I will also keep this same distance away, until you say differently. Thank you, Diego.”

  “Your habitat must really be something, Ken. Now, watch out the canopy and tell me if you see some lights come on.”

  Ken and Janae looked out over the hull and saw some bright red lights blink on.

  “I see them.”

  “Good, well done, Ken. Now, do not be afraid. I will get you back inside, then we will figure out where you came from, and why you would do all this. Move your runabout to right over that red light, but go slowly, and do not descend—do not, I repeat, not drop closer to the surface.”

  Kimberly fired the thrusters and the scout slipped gently along, keeping at least the same distance from the hull as before the encounter with the repulsor field. The red light was atop a pyramid-shaped projection from the hull, and it cast a dull red sheen.

  “I am over the red light, Diego. What next?”

  “I will turn on the next red light. When you see that, fly right over to it, well, not right to it. Do not go closer to the hull. You can only do that when we get to Hanger 5. Therefore, stay the same distance away from the hull. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Diego. You are a good teacher. Thank you.”

  Janae rolled her eyes again, but smiled a bit. Ken’s eyes were twinkling as he spoke. His voice was softer and elevated a bit in tone, which made him sound younger.

  “The red light is on. I am flying over to be by that one,” Ken said.

  They repeated this process for a bit until the scout came right to the edge of the vast circle they had been flying near. As that happened, the scanning equipment picked up more of the details about the other parts of the Trailblazer. The flat disk they had been near was in fact the end of an enormous cylinder. Its curved sides stretched off into the distance. Only by Kimberly’s placing animations of what the scans showed was the end able to be seen. It was roughly eighty kilometers long. Additionally, from the new vantage point, at the corner of the giant cylinder, they could also now scan more of the other parts of the Trailblazer. Kimberly was assembling an animation which was collating all the information which had been gathered. The Colony Ship Trailblazer consisted of a single shaft with cylinders connected in parallel to it. The shaft was mammoth, being one and one-half kilometer in diameter and about one hundred eighty some kilometers long. Attached to that were eight of the massive cylinders. Those cylinders were each about the same size, being sixteen kilometers by eighty kilometers. Ken really wanted to stop and asked questions about the images Kimberly was assembling, but he kept in conversation with Diego.

  “Now, Ken. You are at the corner of the habitat. Do you remember crossing a corner when you drove to the bow?”

  “I might have, but I did not see it, sorry. It was very dark when I drove here,” Ken said. He was trying to be as honest as possible, but also as vague and nebulous as he could be. He was not sure Diego would assist him if he were to hear all the details of the mission and journey. Better to save that for when they were safely inside that hanger.

  “Yes, you have said you were lost, and in the dark several times. Why did you try this?”

  “Can you get me inside? Please?” Ken begged.

  “Oh, right, sorry. Must be scary out there with all the MSs around, and you with no experience. I will help you. From your location, you will need to drive along Ida and get to the green light I am turning on now. Do not get too close to Axis Mundi.”

  “What is Axis Mundi?” Ken asked, but then regretted the question. He wondered if everyone on the Trailblazer would already know that, and this Diego person would then become suspicious.

  “Where the radiation levels are, you should—oh never mind—just stay about the same distance away from the hull as you have been as you app
roach the green light. Let me know when you get there. I will not have confirmation on your location. I will lose radar and lidar contact with—oh why am I telling you this. Just drive that stupid runabout over to the green light and let me know when you get there.”

  Ken could see the green light come on, and when he glanced down at the screen’s display, Kimberly put animation on which showed the building with the location of the green light would be about a tenth of the way along the curved side of the cylinder, from the flat end. Ken’s mind was jumping about trying to consider what was up, down, right, left, and as if Kimberly had read his mind, directional arrows appeared on the display.

  “I am using the bow of the Trailblazer as the ‘front’ reference, the stern as the ‘rear’ reference, and the shaft down the center of the colony ship as the zero reference for the terms ‘lateral’ and ‘medial.’ I hope this is helpful,” Kimberly announced. “Additionally, I am filtering all our conversations here. Currently, my voice and Janae’s voice will not be transmitted to the radio contact, for now, so that no misunderstandings happen with this first-contact person, Diego. I will also filter anything you, Ken, say which I believe might be problematic. This Diego person believes you are an ignorant inhabitant of some other part of the Trailblazer, and is working to allow us entry.”