Aliens Abroad

by Gini Koch

  Silence.

  “Mother, don’t play coy,” I said sternly. “Answer the Commander.”

  Instead of answers, however, were interrupted by the sounds of alarms going off.

  “Everyone to stations, all personnel strap in,” Mother said calmly. “We are leaving warp unexpectedly.”

  CHAPTER 21

  HAD TO GIVE IT to everyone—no one panicked. All the A-Cs we had here, other than Jeff, went into Evacuation Mode, grabbing humans and racing them to, I assumed, the nearest crash couch room, while Jeff, Tim, Tito, and I flung ourselves into our assigned seats. I, personally, was getting really good at getting into my seat and getting the safety harness locked in with my purse in tow, practice making perfect and all that jazz. Hughes and Walker took the remaining open spots at the controls before Christopher could grab them.

  “That’s everyone,” he called to us as he raced off, presumably to strap in himself.

  “Mother,” I shouted over the claxons, “are the kids all safe?”

  “All personnel are strapped in,” Mother shared. “Prepare for a bumpy ride. I . . . might need assistance. This is not happening by my choice.”

  “Oh my God,” Tim groaned. “It continues to get worse.”

  “Mother, will you let Matt or Chip trade places with Tim?”

  “No,” she said. And then we were spinning like I’d never spun before.

  Would have screamed but I was too busy trying not to barf. I’d never been much for the Spinner and similar rides, and this was like those but amped up to way past eleven. To make it more “fun,” we were tumbling as well as spinning. Worried about the kids, the littler ones in particular, but I couldn’t help them right now, so had to just hope that the crash couches were doing their jobs.

  Really hoped that everyone hiding out in the maintenance closet was strapped down somehow, because otherwise Team Tough Guys was going to be Team Infirmary Residents. Felt bad for the least weasels, likely tumbling around in the Royal Hatbox and wondering why they were being tortured. Kind of like the rest of us.

  Had to figure everyone else was at least freaked out if not downright terrified. Meaning it was time for me to do my job on the ship. Prayed we weren’t heading into a star or a black hole or something, but couldn’t really pay attention since I was trying to communicate with the ship and the crew. Felt the ship kind of tell me it was okay to talk, so I went for it.

  “We welcome you aboard Hostage Spacelines. You may be experiencing a . . . slight disturbance. The Commander wishes to inform you that we are in control and all is well.” This was a blatant lie, but with all the kids on board, saying it was time to kiss our butts good-bye seemed wrong.

  “How is that helping?” Tim shouted. “I have no idea what we can do. I know we need to stabilize but I have no idea what to do about that.”

  “Mother? Could the alarms stop? I think we’re all aware that we’re in trouble and, likely, all deaf by now, too.”

  Thankfully, the alarms muted. They didn’t turn off, but now it was more the polite tones of someone trying not to rudely interrupt versus shrieking. Wished Drax was up here with us, but I could compliment him on his craftsmanship later.

  And he deserved a compliment, because even though we were whirling like a dervish—whatever that actually was—nothing was coming loose. At least, nothing I could see or hear, and I was going to count that as good until told otherwise.

  Hughes and Walker, miraculously, were at their actual assigned positions, and they were able to give instructions to the rest of us, since Hughes had been a backup for the Commander seat and Walker had backed up Tito’s position.

  “Tim, you just concentrate on steering,” Hughes said. “Steers just like a jumbo jet.”

  “Liar,” Tim said through clenched teeth.

  “Close enough for government work. Chip and I will stabilize. Tito, ensure all shields are up at maximum.”

  “That means hit all the green buttons on your right,” Walker shared. “If we need shields lowered it’s the yellow buttons next to the green set, and for down it’s the red buttons also on your right.”

  “Nice of Drax to use human color coding,” Tim mentioned.

  “He’s an artist,” Jeff said, sarcasm knob at eight and rising. “I just wish he was as good with programming his AI.”

  “What about the buttons on my left?” Tito asked, moving us off of Jeff’s complaints.

  “Ignore them for now,” Hughes said calmly, as if nothing much was going on. As always, my flyboys lived to impress. “Jeff, ready weapons just in case.”

  “Wish I was clear as to how.”

  “Same color scheme,” Walker said. “But you get to use both hands. C’mon, Jeff, I know you’re used to using both hands. You couldn’t keep Kitty happy otherwise.”

  “Is now really the time?” Jeff asked.

  The rest of the guys all managed snickers, despite the situation. “Jeff, honestly,” Tim said, “for the two of you, when isn’t it the time?”

  “Right now would qualify,” I pointed out. “Just sayin’.”

  “Sounds like problems in paradise,” Hughes said. “Chip and I are always here for you, Kitty.”

  “I’m touched. Look, I’m all for doing the deed in this ship. I just want to be sure that said ship isn’t flipping around like an out of control gymnast and that we all aren’t going to die, call me a cold fish.”

  “I really hope that’s not broadcasting to everyone,” Jeff said. “Our kids in particular.”

  “It is not,” Mother said.

  “Thank you for that, Mother,” Jeff said with a great deal of sincerity. “I think the mental health bills for our kids are already going to be big enough without extra help.”

  “You worry too much.”

  “I agree with your wife, Mister President,” Hughes said. “But, the First Lady isn’t doing her job. Kitty, get back on the airwaves and keep on keeping it light and, also, hail for sentient life.”

  “As if I know where the ‘hail’ button is on this thing?” I didn’t know how to turn the intercom on or off, let alone how to hail externally.

  A light in front of me flashed. It was a button. A white one, whatever that might mean. Hoped this was a hint. “Thanks, Mother. I think.” Pushed the button down. We didn’t explode and the sound in my ears—what I could hear after being deafened by the alarms—sounded like I had an open channel.

  “Hailing frequencies open or some such. This is Earth Vessel Distant Voyager having some major issues in your solar space.” Not that I could see a star. All I saw was black. “Or, you know, in your sort of general space. Your choice. We come in peace, though we may be in pieces soon. So, um, a little help? Totally appreciated. Thanks of a grateful nation. And all that jazz.”

  “Hail will continue,” Mother said.

  “Cool. I guess.” We were no longer tumbling like a big, metal piece of space junk, so there was that. We were still spinning, however.

  “I have no idea what to steer for,” Tim said. “At all. And before you tell me to focus on something, there’s nothing to focus on other than the blackness of space.”

  Something flashed by the windshield. “Tim, hang on. Something’s out there, I saw it, just for a moment.”

  “Stabilization almost complete,” Walker said.

  “Slowing,” Hughes added. “Kitty, seriously, keep talking to the passengers. We can’t afford panic right now.”

  “Seems like the perfect time for it, but okay. Mother?”

  “You are live to the crew.”

  “Super-duper. Um, hey gang. Despite the likely need for a lot of barf bags, our ride is, supposedly, coming to an end. Please do not undo your seatbelts and exit, however. That goes triple for anyone under the age of twenty-one, no matter how much you want to whine about it. Once the ride has come to a full and complete stop, we’ll give you
instructions, but it’s likely that said instructions will be to stay exactly where you are.”

  “I want to know that everyone’s alright,” Jeff said. “Kids especially.”

  “All personnel were secured and all are fine,” Mother said as we now spun at merry-go-round speed. “Despite protocol, I did not send them into the safety of sleep.”

  “You mean you didn’t have time,” Tito said.

  “This is true. The situation was . . . unexpected.”

  The something I’d seen flashed by again, but because we were slowing down, everyone could take a look. “There, see it?”

  The guys chorused that they did. “Doesn’t look like a planet or a star,” Jeff said.

  We swung around again and finally stopped, with our windshield pointing right at whatever it was in front of us. “No. It looks like a nebula.” Hey, Chuckie wasn’t on deck, so I had to represent. “Which could be great or could be very bad.”

  “Why bad, Kitty?” Jeff asked.

  “Because we know beings from nebulas. And they tend to be really bossy and hella powerful.”

  And the ones we knew considered themselves ACE’s parole officers. And, by being on this ship with us, ACE was breaking parole in a big way.

  CHAPTER 22

  “MOTHER, BY ANY CHANCE do you know where we are?” Wasn’t sure if I should hope for us to be near the Eagle Nebula or not.

  “I am not . . . certain.”

  We all looked at each other. “Why not?” Jeff asked.

  “I believe I have been . . . tampered with.”

  “Are you damaged?” Tim asked. “And, if so, can any of us repair you?”

  “I am still assessing. I will need a few moments to determine our position. We should not have been thrown out of warp. We did not hit anything and I did not alter our mission plan.”

  “How do you mean?” Mossy had tampered, but I sincerely doubted that whatever he’d done could have tossed us out of warp or changed Mother’s plans.

  “I mean that something I am not aware of has caused us to be stranded near this nebula. I believe it is the Eagle Nebula.”

  “Of course it is. Are you sure we’re stranded?”

  “For the time being, yes, until I finish my internal scan.”

  “We need to get Drax here,” Hughes said.

  “Mother, what button do I push to talk to the crew?” A different button flashed. “Thanks.” Cleared my throat then pushed it. “Now that the ship has come to a complete stop, all passengers are still required to remain in their safety seats. Other than the people I am going to name, who need to come to the command deck immediately. No one else should plan on accompanying them, because if you do, you’ll be confined to the brig.”

  “We have a brig?” Tito asked quietly.

  “Every ship has a brig,” Tim said. “Galaxywide, as far as we’ve seen.”

  Continued on. “Gustav Drax, Charles Reynolds, Brian Dwyer, Serene Dwyer, James Reader, Joe Billings, Randy Muir, and Jerry Tucker, come on down. Everyone else sit tight, and for those of you fuming for not being a part of this particular roll call, never fear—I’m sure we’ll be calling you up soon enough.”

  “No arguments for who you chose, but why not Lorraine and Claudia?” Tim asked as I let go of the button.

  “Because I want them keeping everyone else in their seats. If the girls can’t leave their seats, trust me, they won’t let anyone else leave, either. Mother, can I do another hail?”

  “Absolutely.” The hail button flashed again. Felt confident that I knew which one it was versus the internal hailing button. Go me.

  “Got it, thanks.” Pushed this button down as my requested reinforcements arrived. “Sandy, if you’re out there, this is Kitty and we need your help. Just you, hopefully, unless the rest of the Seven Dwarfs are feeling charitable toward me and mine. This isn’t how we planned to visit, but since we’re in your neighborhood—help, we need somebody, but not just anybody.” Let go of the button. Who knew? Maybe Sandy had gotten into the Beatles somehow. “Mother, please make sure that goes out a lot. Toward the nebula.”

  “Broadcasting. I . . . apologize.”

  “For what?”

  “For this situation. It should not have happened.”

  “None of this should have happened,” Tim said. “Something’s off, more off than Mother’s decision to take control.”

  “Someone activated the Protection Mode,” Drax pointed out. “That indicates tampering.”

  “No, that was me,” Mother said. “I activated due to what I saw in the DreamScape. The fate of the galaxy is at stake. And now we are stranded.” She sounded stressed.

  “Okay, that makes sense,” I said. “But us being tossed out of warp does not, and Mother, stop blaming yourself. We’ll figure out what’s going on and fix it, I promise. And I’m willing to bet that whoever did whatever tampering is also likely the person who influenced who is and isn’t on the ship.”

  Chuckie nodded. “It makes sense. And you named our two most likely culprits earlier: the Tinkerer or the Shadow.”

  “Could be someone else,” Brian said. “Remember, the Club Fifty-One True Believers are against space travel, unless it’s taking aliens away from Earth.”

  “Gustav, is Mother acting erratic to you in any way? And, before you say yes, know that I mean erratic aside from her activating the Protection Mode thingy. Because what she did with that seems like a failsafe.”

  “Yes, Kitty, Protection Mode is a failsafe. I did not realize that . . . Mother . . . was so self-aware, however.”

  “You programmed me to think,” Mother pointed out. “And I am thinking.”

  “We’re back to Kubrick territory,” Tim muttered.

  “Again, we are not,” Mother said. “I must stress, Commander, that I am not going to harm any of the passengers or crew. It is not in my makeup.”

  “Neither is being thrown out of warp,” Jeff pointed out. “And yet, here we are.”

  “No, there is a difference,” Mother said. “Protection Mode and my making decisions to protect all crew on the ship and, by extension, all life in the galaxy is absolutely in my makeup. However, a hardware malfunction is not something that I would choose to do. If we are stranded, then the safety of the crew is at risk, which is counter to my entire being. Being thrown out of warp is a dangerous thing, as you have just experienced, and therefore is not something I would willingly do unless it was the only way to preserve life. It was not, and was not my choice.”

  “Why didn’t you answer us when we were asking you questions, right before we were tossed out of warp?” Chuckie asked.

  “I had detected that there was an issue with the warp core. I was determining the nature of the problem and whether I could repair it. I still do not know what happened and I fear that I cannot enact repairs alone.”

  Chuckie nodded as if this was the answer he’d expected. “Sabotage. Likely done before the AI, excuse me, before Mother went online.”

  “And things like that only take a pawn.” Got a lot of WTH looks, but then, the girls weren’t up here. Heaved a sigh. “Operation Drug Addict, remember? Whoever spiked Jeff’s regenerative fluids wasn’t a Top Dawg but a pawn who slipped in and out without anyone noticing. I’d assume the same happened here.”

  “Makes sense,” Chuckie said. “So, we don’t care who did it, just on whose orders they were working.”

  “Mother, have you determined what’s wrong yet?” Jeff asked.

  “No. But, as I said, I believe it is something within the warp core.”

  Drax heaved a sigh. “That will require help we don’t have.”

  “Help like who?” Reader asked. “We have a lot of people on board, many of whom are more than capable of assisting.”

  Brian nodded. “We were all trained in how to repair this ship. With you on board, Mister Drax, I don
’t see why Airborne and I can’t repair anything needed, even if we have to go external to the ship.”

  Drax shook his head. “For most repairs? Yes, all of you are trained and I am here. However, the warp core is not created out of my smart metal, meaning I can’t connect with it in the same way I can with the rest of the ship. The warp core is delicate and it requires someone . . . small to do intricate repairs.”

  What Mossy had said registered. “Oh. The Turleens helped you with that part, didn’t they?”

  “They did indeed,” Drax confirmed. “And without a Turleen on board, we could be in trouble. I would not want to ask the children, no matter how talented, to perform these tasks.”

  “Yeah, hells to the no,” Jeff said calmly. “We’ll figure out another way.”

  “There may be no other way,” Mother said. “While you have been speaking I have determined what happened. The warp core drive exploded. It was a small, contained explosion, only damaging the core.”

  Serene’s eyes narrowed. “Contained explosions like that take skill. Getting someone in place to insert one in a way that no one involved noticed takes even more skill. I don’t think we should count out anyone as a possible suspect, but Club Fifty-One has had my bomb micronization data the longest.”

  “But our enemies all tend to share information,” I pointed out. “So there’s still not enough for us to go on to figure out who planted the bomb.” Though, per what Mossy had told me and Tim, that this was doable was because Mother wasn’t set up to notice someone fiddling with something small that didn’t seem important.

  “So someone wanted us to strand, but not to die,” Brian said. “But, reality says that whoever that was didn’t know that it would be this crew getting stranded. I’d think they expected that the planned crew would be who was on board.”

  “Based on how long we were in warp,” Jerry said, “I think that means they expected us to strand after we’d visited Alpha Four but before we got to Vatusus.”

  “Why?” Joe asked. “That’s the question. Because if we were between Alpha Four and Vatusus, we’d be able to get help quickly.”