Tracking the Trailblazer (Colony Ship Trailblazer Book 1)

by John Thornton

  The view was spectacular, but was dwarfed Ken’s worries about Janae. “I am not sure what to do next. From the tenth floor of this tower I can see for a long distance. It looks like I can just barely see the opposite side of this biome. I think I am looking at it crosswise. The sky tube overhead runs long ways, I think, but I cannot see either end of that. The vista just kind of blurs out down those long ways. I am not really sure I can see all the way across, it just feels like I can see that other wall. I could be wrong.” Ken was speaking for Kimberly’s sake, but trying to make it sound like he was just talking to himself, as if he were externally working out an idea or concept. “Plants are growing everywhere all over this building. I think I can see five other tower buildings like this, well, at least five. There is some shimmering and meandering surface feature about half way from where I am to that far distant wall. It is all so odd. Seeing for such a vast distance, and yet still being inside. It is hard to judge distances. I see some of those automacube things rolling along paths and roads, and some people walking about. On the far side of that shimmering, winding surface. I see what looks like more foliage, but a bridge or something crosses the shimmering thing. Roads?”

  Kimberly the AI spoke, “You are doing well disguising the comments to me. I conjecture a strong possibility you are being constantly monitored. What you describe as a shimmering thing might be a body or flow of water.”

  “Water? No, this is big. That cannot be water, can it? Well, just how do I save the people in Dome 17? They still need to get here, and I have none of my supplies. Butterfield says they were disposed of, but what does that even mean? Incinerated? Destroyed? Stored away? Oh, if I only had someone to talk to.”

  Kimberly replied, “The com-links are not destroyed. I chose to activate them remotely. They are in a dark place. Nothing is visible and only some undefined background sounds are heard. I am conjecturing methods to use the scout’s scanners to locate them, but have not devised a method of doing so. Nor have I been able to scan precisely enough to locate the fusion packs, whose energy signals are very tiny when in stand-by mode.”

  Ken rubbed his eyes and honestly said, “I wish I knew where you were.”

  Kimberly answered, “I am still in the scout which is locked down in Hanger 5. There is very minimal power around me, and the hanger is dark. I risk revealing myself, if I turn on the exterior lights.”

  “I just wish I knew what happened to Janae.”

  Kimberly related all that Janae had told her about the tants, and her own odyssey on Axis Mundi. After relating all of that, Kimberly stated, “Janae will be told of all your observations. I am thankful we broke protocol and installed those audio filaments.”

  “Yes. Yes, that is a positive thing. Yet, I feel so disconnected and lost.” Ken returned to the studio, shutting the patio door behind him. As he did, a flying animal landed on his patio. It was several shades of gray, with white wings, and black stripes on its wings. It had beady black eyes, and strutted around on the deck. Ken stared at the creature, which was about thirty-five centimeters tall, and seemed unafraid at all. It walked over on its two thin legs and sort of looked into the studio.

  Ken sat at the table and took up the conservation slate. He pressed his fingers on it as Butterfield had shown. The screen lit up and a voice came on, “Your parents are entrusting you to learn adult activities. Step-by-step, I will supplement what you have learned in school so you too can be an active and valuable part of the Colony Ship Trailblazer.”

  “This is set for children? A child’s tutorial?” Ken was disgusted, yet he watched it all. When that tutorial was finished, the screen gave the message that it was the first of fifty such tutorials. “This will take forever!”

  Ken got up and walked to the front door, but when he tried it again he heard, “Access denied.”

  “Blast it all! Why give me a sequence code, if I am locked in as a prisoner, again!”

  Ken?” Kimberly asked, “Have you seen any evidence for mechanical intelligence apart from the machines they call automacubes?”

  “I hear a recorded voice saying ‘Access denied’ but that is all. So, no, I have not,” Ken felt safe to say, “and those machines did not seem advanced nor sophisticated. Functional, sure, but not to the levels of those others I know. Now, I have to view childish tutorials on the conservation slate explaining the ways to use the toilet, or prepare raw food! I still marvel at how much water is wasted.”

  The AI, Kimberly, said to him, “Ken, knowledge is power. You must figure out a way to recover the teleporter components, or the mission will fail.”

  “I know that!” he yelled out. “Sorry, sure, I will learn all I can. If only someone would listen to me!” Still convinced someone was listening, and might be persuaded to help him, he added, “I do wish Butterfield would return so I could learn from her.” However, in his mind he was planning how to leave and go find Janae, his equipment, and complete his mission. It was a daunting challenge.

  14

  Mysterious Message

  Kimberly perceived things via the onboard paraphernalia of the faster-than-light scout ship, but did so at the lowest possible power levels, attempting to remain undetected. The majority of the scout’s technology was designed for use in space and observing things at great distances. Those tools were no longer very effective, as the scout was chained down in the darkness of Hanger 5. Nonetheless, Kimberly still made scans and readings on the Trailblazer. The artificial intelligence was able to tell the exact dimensions of the hanger, knew minute details of the shuttles which were nearby, had schematics of all the thruster fuel supplies in the hanger, was aware of power fluctuations in the surroundings walls, and had made meticulous analyses of the permalloy chains which held the scout locked to the deck. None of that was much help to Janae or to Ken.

  Kimberly used the long-range tools and tried to come up with deck plans, or other helpful information, but the various layers of permalloy which were between the hanger and the biome made scanning problematic. Without fully engaging the energy system on the scout, scans were limited. Some things were revealed, but nothing which showed Kimberly where Janae or Ken were exactly located.

  Tracking did show where, roughly speaking, the com-links were, in relation to the scout, but that was virtually useless due to the lack of being able to pinpoint Janae’s or Ken’s location.

  Kimberly was frustrated. The AI even ran conjectures on trying to use the scout’s equipment to break free and escape to the outside, but they all ended in undesirable outcomes.

  The scout did have some manipulation tools at Kimberly’s command which could severe the chains, or spray a permalloy construction—such as an umbilicus for exterior docking—however, using those mechanism would reveal the AI’s presence in the scout. That would alert anyone, or anything that was observing that Kimberly existed. Presently, Kimberly conjectured that remaining hidden, concealed, and unknown, would be the best way to assist in completing the mission. But those conjectures were of low reliability, even though they did offer the highest potential of all conjectures.

  Speaking with Janae and Ken did allow some measures of hope. Both were still alive, and both were trying to convey important information, via the limited implanted audio channels. Much like using the exterior manipulation equipment would potentially expose Kimberly presence, so too could speech by Janae or Ken reveal Kimberly existed. For now, that was an undesirable outcome.

  While pondering all that, Kimberly had an unexpected visitor. An engineering automacube approached the scout and used its manipulation arm to connect a three-centimeter sticky square to the hatch door. Through that adhesive, small vibrations were sent. Those vibrations were noted by Kimberly, assessed, and evaluated.

  “I will attempt to help your crew,” the vibrations specified. “I will attempt to help your crew. I will attempt to help your crew,”

  Kimberly’s artificial processing and reasoning was uncertain of how to respond. It was clearly a message, with a positive potentia
l, but responding would reveal Kimberly presence. But then, the entity which was attempting contact apparently already knew—or at least suspected—that someone or something was still in the scout. That assumption was also that whatever was still in the scout was intelligent enough to analyze the vibrations, and would be willing to respond. Kimberly made a vast multitude of conjectures, but none had enough information to warrant any kind of confidence in a course of action. Both the possibility of a trap, and the possibility for genuine assistance were conjectured, along with the conjectures about making no response at all and when none of the options had sufficient evidential support, Kimberly was forced to make a decision.

  “Time is crucial. My crew needs their equipment,” Kimberly sent back.

  “Understood. I will attempt to help your crew,” the vibrations replied. Then the adhesive pad was removed and the automacube rolled away in the darkness.

  Kimberly pondered the decision, and ran more conjectures, yet was uncertain of the future.

  15

  Janae’s Expedition

  Janae found the tant compound’s layout difficult to comprehend. The rooms, hallways, corridors, and shafts which connected with the cargo area all seemed to be utilitarian, and not designed as living space. To use an old term, it was spartan in the extreme. Tants of all ages were there, however, they looked so much alike, she was never sure who was who, and if she wanted to speak to Siiri-Peter, she had to ask by name. The tants chuckled at her inability to tell them apart, which they found highly amusing, but to her it was annoying and more than irritating.

  As she had been told, she was free to roam about, but the compound was a maze of disorder. A few tant children, who—in their severe deformities—Janae found especially heart-wrenching, brought her various food items which all had excessive amounts of flavor. The food items were different than what she had eaten in isolation, none were raw, as they had already been prepared, mostly dried-out, and their origins were unidentifiable, yet Janae thanked the children who then scampered away in a gleeful chortle of giggles.

  Janae found herself talking opening and describing whatever she saw, mostly so that Kimberly could hear what she was experiencing. The tants ignored her, for the most part, and with their facial deformities, it was difficult to read anything about their emotions or reactions. The AI Kimberly had reported all that Ken was experiencing, and Janae was pleased he had not been killed in the attack. Nowhere did Janae find any working technological items, beyond basic mechanical engineering things like doors, toilets, and sinks. She spent several days wandering about, seeking more information, eating the strange foods, sleeping on mats in corners of supply closets, and generally getting increasingly depressed and frustrated. Search, eat odd foods, ask questions, get vague and imprecise answers, then find a place to sleep, that was the schedule for each day. Day after day she repeated that. She knew there had to be some doorway, some exit, some hidden passageway which would take her away from the compound, but she could not find it.

  One morning, as she was walking along a main passageway, seeking some junction, turn, door, or hatch which she had missed before, she heard her named called.

  “Janae?” one of the tants said from behind her.

  “Are you Siiri-Peter?”

  “Yes,” the tant replied with a dry laugh. “I have consulted with all the Outer Limits friends, and we have a consensus.”

  “Great! I am ready for you to take me to my tools and gear. Shall we go now?”

  “Janae, none of the friends are willing to accept the risks of assisting you. Two of us were killed in rescuing you. We do not think the rewards are worth the dangers of what you propose. While we do regularly make forays into all eight habitats—the biome sections—to acquire food, and other items, none of those will take us near where we suspect your technological items are being kept.”

  “Well then, just take me to that Ida biome and let me go. I will find it myself.”

  “I am sorry, but that is not an option we will consider. Our ways into and out of the biomes must remain a secret. You will remain here.”

  “I am good at keeping secrets. I promise to tell no one where I was or how I got in, or out, or whatever,” Janae stated in all seriousness. “Blindfold me, plug my ears, carry me on your shoulder, twirl me around when we leave and when we get there, just take me away from here. There is still time to save my people.”

  “No. You will remain here.”

  “Forever?” Janae cried out. “Doing what? Twiddling my thumbs? What a useless, unmitigated, and ultimately, unacceptable plan. I refuse! Now, you just take me out of here, or show me how to leave. Keeping me a prisoner is wrong.”

  “You feel it is wrong,” Siiri-Peter replied, “but we see it as protective custody. The norms will not accept you as one of theirs We have tried to send others back before, and they were murdered by norms. We would be negligent to allow you to go into danger. I believe you mean it when you say you would keep our secrets, but the risk is too great. The risk to you. You will remain here. Here you have food, water, shelter, and you are safe. That is a better lot than most norms, or most tants. That is our decision.”

  “I refuse to accept it! I must leave!” Janae stood to her full height and glared at Siiri-Peter. “You are condemning fifteen hundred people to death by imprisoning me.”

  “We are protecting someone who is mentally incompetent from harming herself. The decision is final. Your acceptable or refusal does not alter the facts of our decision.”

  “What about the fifteen hundred people in Dome 17? Your decision is dooming them to death by radioactive toxins. You, of all people, should understand that, right? You would let fifteen hundred people die, when you could save them?”

  “If they were real people, it would carry more weight. You, and your friend are the only ones who have any knowledge of these fifteen hundred people. The Outer Limits friends debated this comprehensively. None of us can envision a location on the Trailblazer where fifteen hundred people are located, which we do not already know about. The unanimous conclusion is that you and Ken are delusional about Dome 17. If it exists at all, it is a tiny community. If there is a threat, it is minimal. It is more likely that Dome 17 is a lingering figment of your own active imagination. You talk to yourself nearly constantly, sometimes as if you have an invisible friend with you. You are safe here, and here you will remain.”

  “Figment of my imagination? Where was the scout ship built? Where did that originate?”

  “You and Ken modified a shuttle. I am sure if the Outer Limits friends were to examine it, we could identify its origins rather quickly. Perhaps, it was some rare service model? It does not matter, for you will still remain here. That is all.” Siiri-Peter turned to go.

  Janae screamed at him, “We came from Earth! Dome 17 is on Earth! Those fifteen hundred people are humanity’s last survivors. They are my friends!” Jubal’s face flashed across her mind, and then so did the harping words of Doctor Larson, yet she still called to the tant, “You cannot just let them die. Please!”

  “There is no way for a ship to come to us from Earth. That is a scientific impossibility. Your statement about humanity’s last survivors is blatantly false. On the Trailblazer are nearly ten thousand people, and still some additional people in suspended animation,” Siiri-Peter said, but did not turn around. “Also, our records show there were six other colony ships which were dispatched around the same time as the Trailblazer. Your own words confirm your delusional status. You will remain here. End of discussion.” The tant marched off.

  All that day, Janae wandered the compound. The ventilation ducts, ubiquitous as they were, were of no help in her escape plans. The widest was only about a half-meter in span, and she doubted she could crawl into it and still have any maneuverability. Peering through the slats, she was unable to gauge how wide it was for its length. The grille, which covered over that duct, was bolted into place, and lacking any tools, Janae had no way to pry it open, even if it were a duct wide e
nough to enter. And so, she continued to search.

  As evening came, as indicated by the dimming of all the lights in the compound, Janae considered where she would spend the night. Night times were not totally dark, but the corridors, halls, and storage areas, as well as the scattered latrines, were all very dimly lit, being that the only ceiling lights which stayed on were at junctions and crossways, as well as the small lights which were mounted in the sidewalls at thresholds and corners.