The Captain was very grateful that he had not heard that terrible “enemy contacts” phrase used for well over a month now. People were actually beginning to feel safe and secure aboard ship, and he still held their general welfare listed as his number one priority. After the brutal attack they had all witnessed, just getting back into some semblance of a normal life had proved to be a daily challenge for everyone… not just the ship’s officers.
He remembered the horrible events, how fast everything had happened, and all the progress they had made since then. He also remembered very vividly the frightening encounter with the sinister Brotherhood and their mysterious warship. Looking back with a touch of hindsight, he felt that the right decisions had been made at the right time. There would always be things that bothered him, things that he felt he could have done better. But overall he was in good shape and was confident that he and the crew had made the best choices possible given the circumstances.
What he had kept to himself and would never tell anyone was the tie-breaker that Contingency Plan Delta had been. If Thomas had been unable to get the touch-screen technology reliably working for him, he would have ordered the crew to ignore the distress signal that they had inevitably responded to. It wasn’t something he was proud of and it made him feel a lot better knowing that they had produced working technology in time to allow them to show up and safely prove conclusively that the signal was indeed a trap.
But no matter how many times he had silently reviewed the situation his conclusions remained the same. Without a dependable way of defending the Pathfinder against an attack there was no way he would ever have ordered the vulnerable ship full of civilians anywhere near a possible confrontation with the murderous Brotherhood. Sometimes he wondered how many other ship commanders had been faced with the same decision, without the benefit of CAS technology at their disposal. How many of them had simply turned their ships toward the stars and transited directly into the unknown? He was still thinking over the possibilities when an electronic beep sounded from one of Mary’s consoles.
“Ensign Long,” he said, breaking the silence. “That sounds like an incoming transmission of some sort. Since such a transmission is a virtual impossibility considering our current situation, what exactly is causing that?”
There was a lengthy pause. “That’s what it is,” the sandy-haired young Ensign announced, clearly astounded. He turned and looked at Kaufield in utter astonishment. “We are receiving a signal from an external source – coming in on a secure military frequency. But how can that be?”
Dennis leaped out of his seat as if jolted with electricity. He ran over to the Ensign’s position and they both studied the motion sensor screens carefully. “There’s nothing else out there, not even a rock fragment close enough to transmit from,” the Captain pointed out. “Where the hell did it come from?”
“I have no idea, sir,” Ensign Long replied. “It was a very short data burst… just one image file and that was it. Other than that I’ve got nothing on record in the logs.”
Kaufield pointed at the nearest monitor. “If we can’t track down the source, let’s take a look at it. Put up the picture file, please.” The Ensign quickly complied and they both stared in complete shock at the image transmitted to them only seconds before.
Mystery Transmission
* * * * *
Dr. Julie Markham was squinting into the viewfinder of one of her larger telescopes in the Observatory when she noticed Kaufield pull out a chair and sit down next to her. He tossed a sheet of printed paper on her desk and leaned back with a mysterious expression on his face. Intrigued, she pushed the viewfinder aside and picked up the piece of paper, carefully examining the image on it.
“Nice job,” she remarked. “I like all of the pretty colors. Are you thinking of taking up astronomy, Captain?”
“I didn’t create that,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Well whoever did draw this has been paying close attention as we travel along through space. I’ve been developing some tentative sketches of my own but none nearly as interesting as this.” She smiled. “It’s quite possible that our new CAS technology will eventually allow us to explore beyond the event horizon – or outer edge – of our universe.” She frowned slightly. “Sorry Captain, I don’t mean to keep throwing terms like super-cluster and event horizon at people, but that’s what they’re called in all of the textbooks.” She paused, carefully studying the image on the sheet of paper. “Honestly, who did this Captain? I’d call it a very excellent hypothesis as to what lies beyond the perimeter of our universe.”
“No one on this ship,” he said, smiling ominously.
She stared at him, trying to get the joke she expected was hidden in his words. “Pardon me?”
“No one on this ship drew that,” Captain Kaufield replied, pointing at the sheet of paper in her hand. “We are out here alone – in the middle of nowhere – with most of our crew and passengers still in the Garden wing celebrating the Fourth of July. So I was just sitting up there on the Command Deck quietly minding the store…” he said, still sounding a bit stunned, “…and right out of the blue Ensign Long picks up a transmission.” He held out his hands. “As far as we can tell, there isn’t so much as a meteor floating anywhere near this ship as far out as our motion sensors can see. And yet we picked up a signal from an unknown source using one of our classified, encrypted military frequencies. We saved a record of the transmission and I used it to print that piece of paper.”
“Somebody – other than a person on board the Pathfinder – transmitted this image to you earlier tonight?” she repeated, her face turning chalk white. “And you don’t know who sent it?”
“No,” he insisted. “We checked everywhere in the vicinity and there is nothing. I came down here to show you this because I have a pretty good idea what it might be a sketch of and needed you to confirm it for me. I’m also hoping you can use your telescopes to try and search the surrounding area for a ship or planet. There was no PTP window detected and the signal was not faster than light. So now you know my problem… I have no idea how someone got it here at the perfect time for us to receive it.”
“Could we have intercepted an older transmission?” Julie asked. “You know, perhaps something someone sent years ago and it’s just now passing through this area?”
“Nope,” Kaufield said confidently. “The signal strength is perfect… it hasn’t traveled through any radiation storms or deteriorated in any way, shape, or form that we can determine based on a standard Comm-signal originating from a distant origin point. Somehow, someone transmitted that image file to the Command Dome, and I’ve been left here wondering who did it and how they managed the feat.”
“I have no idea,” said Julie, dumbfounded. She pointed to the yellow cube that denoted an enlarged area of a piece from the overall map in the lower right corner of the picture. “Do you realize what this means?”
“Yes,” Dennis said grimly. “It means someone or something out there has been observing us long enough to know who we are and the areas we’re visiting – even across billions of light years.” He rubbed his chin nervously. “And even more importantly, they know exactly where our home galaxy is and where we came from.”
THE PATHFINDER PROJECT
Chapter XIII: Wasteland
The day after the Fourth of July celebration proved to be as exciting on board the Pathfinder as the holiday itself had been. Since they were all personally invested in their journey through the stars together, Kaufield continued his policy of full disclosure – he withheld no new information. The only exception to this rule, of course, continued to be the medical and technical research on the captured Brotherhood spy. That part of their trip he considered to be a military matter, and – until proven otherwise – he was still operating under the assumption that there might be other undercover operatives on board. By morning of the next day, however, copies of the mystery transmission were circulating throughout the ship via E-Notes, and by lun
ch time it was easily the most popular subject overheard during discussions.
Who sent it? From where did they transmit?
One person had even proposed the theory that it was a message directly from God himself. Kaufield shook his head in amazement throughout the entire morning as he heard or read whacky theory after whacky theory. Couldn’t people find anything better to do with their time than come up with this stuff? When anyone asked him for his opinion – and there were a lot of people who did – he would politely respond each and every time that he was prepared to wait and see what further exploration of the immediate area revealed. Perhaps the answer was close or maybe it was a long way off… he was simply not ready to read too much into such a significant development without confirming it first with facts.
The Captain walked quickly into the restaurant at the rear of deck four and ordered a sandwich. His plan was to get a bite to eat and then move along to the rear of the ship and meet with staff from the Lab and Observatory wings. He grabbed a plate containing a chicken sandwich and poured himself a cup of coffee before moving to one of the empty tables to sit and eat his lunch. He noticed that Patrick Warren was working on the other side of the room, busily bussing tables left disorganized by the lunch crowd. There were several bruises on the left side of the man’s face and a bandaged cut under his right eye.
“May I join you?” Glen asked, appearing from behind and smiling as the Captain immediately waved him toward an empty chair.
“I’ve heard that our Brotherhood guest has had a few run-ins with some of the personnel down here, but then I guess we expected that,” the Captain commented.
“A little uncertainty concerning his own personal safety is doing him a world of good,” Glen replied, taking a bite from his own sandwich. “He’s been working his butt off in here, hoping everyone will just leave him alone. Without his friends and their nuclear missiles, he sure doesn’t have a lot of self-confidence left.”
“There have been three documented attacks on this man so far,” the Captain pointed out. “Some of those boys working the tougher jobs in the hangar bay naturally need to let off some steam… but I don’t like it much when they get carried away. I’ve got four of them cooling their heels in the brig for a while… perhaps they’ll drink a little less and work harder now that they’ve got assault charges filed against them.”
“There are lots of folks on board that are wondering if an attack on him qualifies as an assault,” said Glen, taking a drink of fruit juice from the plastic cup in front of him.
“It does as long as I’m the Captain and the ship’s Council agrees with me,” replied Kaufield. “I will not tolerate hate crimes on this ship.” He gave Warren a quick once over. “From what I hear he is quite strong and can hold his own very well. We may all pick up a few bruises here or there before matters are settled between us and this Brotherhood fellow, but in the end I have confidence that we’ll all be okay.”
“We have a preliminary report on that device you found in his quarters,” Glen reported. “It’s some kind of transceiver like the ones we use on the fighters and other support ships, but much more complex.” He took another sip of juice. “That’s undoubtedly how he got the viruses into the systems of our support ships in the hangar bay. My guess is that it is also part of a larger wireless network when used in conjunction with other similar devices in the vicinity of our home star system. We’ve identified the encryption process and frequencies it uses, but unless we can record some of the actual wireless signals that it processes, I don’t think we’ll be learning much more regarding how their communications systems work.”
“We’re not going back home… at least not yet,” Kaufield said, watching Warren carefully. “According to Dr. Simmons, he’s basically a human biological being just like you and me… with upgrades. What was the Brotherhood thinking when they created him?”
“Perhaps they wanted soldiers, first and foremost… reliable soldiers.”
“Advancements like that could have helped Earth’s population, cured diseases…” observed the Captain thoughtfully.
“And the first thing they do is infiltrate other nations and try to wipe us out,” Glen said angrily. “It literally boggles the mind as to what type of thinking process could conceive of that, let alone assemble all of the resources needed to try and make it happen.”
“That’s what I’ve been wondering about him,” the Captain replied with a crisp nod in Warren’s direction. “Is there still some semblance of a conscience at the center of their so-called ‘new society’ thinking, or is their government now led only by sociopathic murderers? We do know from our encounter at Khyber Base that they were willing to let us surrender.” He laughed darkly. “God only knows what being a prisoner of theirs would be like.”
Glen finished his sandwich and pushed his plate aside. “Only a mind running on greed, ambition, a quest for power… only someone like that could order the death of so many people and that kind of destructive nuclear attack without feeling so much as a hint of remorse.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Kaufield, jerking a thumb in Warren’s direction. “So what does that make him? According to Dr. Simmons, he’s an emotional basket case. He regularly endures severe fits of guilt, both at what his people did to us and at what he tried to do here on the Pathfinder. She’s actually had to begin giving him medication in order to keep him stable enough to work here in the restaurant.”
“We’re never going to have all the answers if we can’t return home and find out,” Glen predicted. “That’s the only thing that bothers me about being out here, Captain. What is happening back home?” He looked at his watch with a frown. “I’d better be getting back to work or they’ll be calling for me. Thanks for the chat.”
“My pleasure,” Kaufield replied sincerely. “And thank you, by the way, for the update on Warren’s communications device… it saves me from having to stop by later and disturb your work.”
His next stop was the Observatory wing, or Julie’s ‘office’. He entered through the hatchway and noticed that the area was bustling with activity. On one table in the center of the wing were a series of laptop computers. Thomas, Kari and three other members of Julie’s staff were busy installing updated software onto them. He immediately noticed the obvious attraction in the smiles between Thomas and his new girlfriend. He chuckled quietly… a new, fresh bond of love was definitely forming rapidly between the two of them. Considering all that Thomas had endured to preserve the safety of both ship and crew, the Captain figured that the young scientist had a few happier days owed to him. He was pleased to see things working out.
Julie herself was busy studying several images captured by telescope. She had them displayed side by side on the monitor at her work station, and Kaufield took a quick glance at them as he eased into an empty chair next to her.
“Good afternoon, Captain.” She said pleasantly enough.
“Good afternoon,” he replied. “Have you decided where you’d like to take the ship next?”
“Are you getting anxious to explore some more?” she asked.
“Absolutely, Doctor. We’ve moved around so far and so fast that I get absolutely itchy if we just sit around in one area for too long.”
She smirked at his attitude and pointed to a spot on the right picture. “How about here?” she asked carefully, and his gaze moved from her face to the tip of her finger. A small, for-the-most-part spiral-shaped galaxy sat in its center. Her finger was pointing to a bright white spot in the center of one of its spiral arms.
“What’s causing the bright spot? The latest mystery for the day?” guessed the Captain.
“Exactly,” she replied. “But it’s not a bright spot. This picture is a modified copy of the image on the left with darker areas enhanced. So the regions without a lot of light look whiter and vice versa.” It was her turn to look at him. “For some reason I cannot fathom, there are a lot of variable low-intensity stars in that vicinity and I’m very curious as to what the caus
e is. Normally, you would find most of them scattered randomly about amongst the other stars, not clumped together in one big bunch like that. The central computer identifies all kinds of ‘out of the ordinary’ patterns for us each day, but it kicked this one out at the top of the list.”
“Why?” queried Kaufield. “So you’ve got a series of cooler stars grouped together. What’s so special about that?” He shrugged. “It’s probably just one of the random things that you will occasionally find out here when there are trillions of different objects all scattered about.”
“It came out at the top of the list because Glen’s group in the Lab is also picking up man-made electromagnetic transmissions from that same area. He confirmed the discovery for me immediately.”
“Really,” the Captain said, sounding a little taken aback. “I had lunch with him a few minutes ago and I definitely don’t remember him mentioning that.”
“He must have wanted you to be surprised,” she theorized, then pointed again at the picture. “The signals we received are very weak, sporadic, and extremely old. There’s no way to translate or convert them to anything we could read or view. They’ve traveled a long way to get here at light speed, so it’s very fortunate for us that they haven’t deteriorated to the point where we would be unable to determine if they’re artificial or natural in origin.” Before he could ask she continued, “And we also ran into them the old-fashioned way, so no I don’t think they have anything whatsoever to do with whoever transmitted your infamous ‘universe diagram’.”
“But it is a definite sign of intelligent life like our own,” Dennis decided.
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