by Doug Farren
Collision Course
By: Doug Farren
Copyright © 2018
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Collision Course
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cover art design: Heather Zak
Copy-edited by: Lee Dilkie
Proofed by: Cheryl Farren
Contributing editor Ekkehard Flessa
Published by: Doug Farren
Author Photo by: John Gilbey
Printed by: CreateSpace
Cover art Copyright © 2018 by Doug Farren
Chapter 1
=======================
AMRS Log 409,381.377
== Energy reserves: 100%
== Fuel: 78.2%
== Ship system health: 87.3%
== *** WARNING *** Inventory of irreplaceable consumables is at critical level.
== Status: All systems except AMRS are powered down. Rebuild of heat concentrator 3 complete. No other maintenance scheduled.
=======================
“Jump complete,” Helmsman Thomas Kemp announced. “Star shift appears normal. Computer is verifying.”
“Retract the pylons and commence recharge,” Captain Jeromy Jones ordered.
Tom’s hands danced across his console in a pattern he had repeated so often it was now pure muscle memory. “Pylons retracting.”
“Commencing recharge using reactor three,” Xiang Yuen reported from the engineering station.
“The area is clear,” Tom said, reaching over his shoulder to scratch an itchy spot near the middle of his back.
Captain Jones got out of his chair and stretched. His shoulder-joint made a loud pop as he raised his arms over his head.
“I heard that,” Yuen said, keeping his eyes on his panel.
“You’ll be popping and crackling soon enough,” the Captain replied. “Continue preps for the next jump. If you need anything, I’ll be in my stateroom. Yuen, you have the con.”
“Aye Sir.”
=======================
AMRS Log 409,381.941
== Hyperjump energy spike detected. Powering TAFCS.
TAFCS Mission Log 409,381.948
== Pulse-scan initiated.
== Vessel origin: Unknown.
== Vessel type: Possible cargo carrier.
== Distance: 21,448 on non-intercept course.
== Weapons: None detected.
== Threat assessment: None.
== Recommendation: Monitor.
=======================
Nine-and-a-half hours after completing their last jump, Captain Jones handed his empty breakfast dishes to the kitchen staff and headed for the bridge. The night-shift crew glanced up as he walked through the door.
“Status?” he asked, stopping at the coffee pot built into the aft port bulkhead.
“Recharge will be complete in fifteen minutes,” Ali Srour reported from the engineering station. “Pre-jump checks are complete.”
“Jump calculations complete and loaded,” Jackie Oh reported from the helm. “Area remains clear of all contacts.”
Captain Jones carefully tapped a tiny amount of sugar into the palm of his left hand, picked up an even smaller pinch with his right thumb and forefinger, and sprinkled it into his coffee. “Extend the pylons. Jump as soon as we are at full charge.”
“Yes, Sir,” Jackie replied.
“Why do you even bother?” Ali asked, turning around to face the Captain.
“What are you talking about?” Captain Jones asked, stirring his coffee with a long spoon.
“You can’t possibly taste the minuscule amount of sugar you put in your coffee. Why not just leave it out?”
The Captain tapped the spoon on the edge of the cup. “Habit I guess. Just doesn’t taste the same if I don’t put at least a little bit in.”
“Pylons extended,” Jackie reported. “Ready for jump.”
The Captain was just settling into his chair when a sharp tone caused everyone to jump.
“Proximity alert,” the ship’s computer announced.
“What do you have?” Captain Jones asked.
Jackie tapped a couple of icons on the screen. “Object bearing zero four two mark zero one six. Distance 9,300 kilometers. Delta-V estimated to be 1.4 KPS. Negative intercept.”
“I thought you said the area was clear,” the Captain said, not bothering to hide the fact that he was upset. “How did you manage to miss something so close?”
Jackie continued to enter commands into her console. “I don’t know Sir. The radar was clear a moment ago.”
“Can you at least identify what it is?” the Captain asked, setting his steaming cup into the holder built into the chair.
“I’m not sure,” Jackie replied, leaning back in her chair hard enough to send the springs up against the back-stop. “The radar is having a hard time getting a lock. Switching to the backup.” There was a few seconds delay before she said, “Backup has the same problem. I can’t get a stable return off whatever it is.”
Getting out of the command chair, Captain Jones walked over to Jackie’s position and looked over her shoulder. The data on the screen kept changing as if the computer wasn’t sure if the object was there or not.
“Boost the signal,” he ordered.
“I’m already at full output,” she replied.
“Switch to imaging mode. Narrow the beam down as much as you can and have the computer overlay each scan on top of the other.”
Jackie spent a few moments working her keyboard. The numbers on the screen were replaced by a grouping of ghostly orange blobs. On each pass of the radar beam, the blobs became more refined and slowly coalesced into a single, very large, smooth, cigar-shaped object.
“That’s a ship!” Captain Jones exclaimed. “Ali, see if you can raise anyone.”
Ali had anticipated the request and was already keying in the command on his communication console. “Aye Sir,” he replied.
“That’s not like any ship I’ve ever seen,” Jackie said, tapping a command to zoom in on a section of the huge vessel. “I don’t see any heat radiators. Maybe it’s just a very smooth rock.”
“Computer,” the Captain said. “Can you identify the object currently being displayed on the radar monitor?”
“Negative,” the ship’s AI replied. “The object is too symmetrical and too smooth to be classified as naturally occurring. The vessel’s density is more than twice that of any ship in the database and its silhouette does not match anything in the registry.”
Jackie looked up at the Captain. “An unknown race?” she asked.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Captain Jones replied. “Ali, any response?”
“None Sir. As far as my instruments can tell, it’s a dead ship—or a rock. It’s not radiating in any band our instruments can detect and it registers as neutral on the thermograph.”
“Diagnostics on the main radar show it to be operating properly,” Jackie informed the captain. “No matter what I do, I can’t seem to get a solid lock on whatever is out there. It’s as if the radar beam is sometimes being absorbed and other times being reflected. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Should we abort the jump so we can get a look at it?” Jackie asked.
Captain Jones ignored the question and t
urned his head toward Ali. “Anything?”
Ali glanced at his panel and shook his head.
The crew waited as the Captain returned to his command chair. Sitting down, he picked up his coffee and took a sip. “The company rules are quite clear,” he said. “No delays are allowed unless an emergency threatens the survival of the ship or its cargo, not even for something as exciting as this.”
Jackie glanced at a timer counting backwards on her console. “Eight minutes to jump.”
“I know you’re itching to see what’s out there,” the Captain said. “But we’re not an exploration vessel. I, for one, am not willing to put my career on the line by delaying our arrival or using up more fuel than absolutely necessary to get our cargo back to Earth. Does anyone disagree?”
Nobody said a word. Eight months ago, the company’s chief efficiency expert, Captain Arnold J. Zak, had scrutinized every aspect of how the ship was being operated and maintained during a cargo run from Earth to Etnamea, a Nitnicki planet. Cargo ships like the Kilimanjaro, were hellishly expensive to build and operate and the only way to make a profit was to tightly control how efficiently the ships were run.
Although he was easy to talk to and friendly to everyone on the crew, AJ (as he preferred to be addressed) left no doubt that he would not tolerate any behavior that reduced the efficiency of the ship’s operation. This became abundantly clear when the previous captain of the Kilimanjaro found himself without a job shortly after reaching their destination. Captain Jones had been the XO.
“This is still our discovery,” Captain Jones said. “If there’s any money to be made, we’ll all get a share. Ali, how much total delta-V can a fully-fueled beacon’s engine generate?”
“Roughly 9,000 meters per second,” Ali replied. “Not nearly enough to- - -”
“Drop one and program it to do its best to match that ship’s trajectory. Make sure you get an accurate reading of the final variance between the ship and the beacon after it runs out of propellant. We’ll inform the company of our discovery as soon as we reach Earth.”
“Aye Sir!”
Ali started to turn back towards his console but stopped when the Captain asked, “How precisely can you fix our current position?”
“Given our current location, 50 to 75 million kilometers.”
The Captain rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Even with a beacon to guide them, finding that ship again is going to be quite a challenge. Do the best you can.”
“Yes Sir. It’s a miracle we came across it,” Ali said as he turned away. “A tiny speck of a ship in the vastness of space, and we just happen to pop out of jump-space right next to it.”
The bridge was quiet for a minute as the crew prepped the ship for jump.
“Beacon launched,” Ali quietly announced.
=======================
AMRS Log 409,382.107
== TAFCS ALERT - Possible missile launch. Transferring system control to TAFCS.
TAFCS Mission Log 409,382.107
== Assumed control of ship’s functions.
== Current status: Weapon systems off-line. External sensors limited to passive devices and pulse-scan.
== Full-spectrum pulse scan initiated.
== Target 1 - Cargo vessel. Mass: 191,322. Distance: 12,892. Course: 131.11 X 61.28 Unpowered. Non-intercept. Threat level: None.
== Target 2 – Powered projectile. Mass 1.334. Distance: 12,884. Course: 130.28 X 61.11. Threat level: Unknown.
== Analysis – Target 2: Chemical thruster. Delta-V decreasing. 98% probability of insufficient fuel to achieve intercept. Periodic electromagnetic emissions detected. No weapons detected. 88% probability that target 2 is a beacon.
== No pre-planned protocols found. Request activation of AI.
== Returning control to AMRS.
AMRS Log 409,381.951
== TAFCS requesting AI activation.
== Request does not violate any restrictions.
== Initiating AI startup.
=======================
Ali’s hands froze over his console. His eyes quickly scanned his instruments. Was it his imagination or did every sensing device monitoring the electromagnetic spectrum suddenly jump then return to normal? He completed the command sequence then called up a series of screens on his main monitor.
“Jump in 30 seconds,” Jackie announced.
Ali’s fingers quickly tapped out commands, causing more displays to appear. Each one showed a very quick, but noticeable increase in electromagnetic activity across every frequency his instruments monitored.
“Captain!” Ali said, the tone of his voice causing the Captain to jerk his head around. “I don’t think- - -”
“Jump in three … two … one … JUMP!”
Ali clamped his mouth shut and watched the critical indicators on his console as the jump drive drained the accumulators of power, twisting the ship into a dimension that only mathematicians could understand. The crew felt only a slight sensation they had long become used to as a small portion of the universe was clipped out of one location and 15.46 seconds later reappeared 8.4 light-years from where it originated.
“Jump complete!” Jackie announced. “Star shift appears normal. Computer is verifying.”
The Captain listened to the standard reports, then turned his chair slightly and said, “Ali, what were you saying before the jump?”
“I don’t think that alien ship is dead Sir. I picked up a spike across the entire EM-band moments after we launched the beacon. I think we were scanned.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes Sir.”
Captain Jones picked up his coffee and drained it. “Analyze it as best you can and put it in your report. We’ll let the boys on Earth figure it all out.”
=======================
Ship Log – Initial entry
== AI initial startup complete.
== Loading configuration files …
== Merging configuration files with AI core … Merge complete.
== Loading language files … 241 languages loaded.
== *** WARNING *** No primary language identified.
== Loading personality modules …
== *** WARNING *** No personality modules found.
== Loading final configuration modules …
== *** WARNING *** Specified configuration modules are missing.
== AI core initializing …
** AI G9-33819 on line and active. Performing initial installation survey and configuration familiarization …
** Installation survey and familiarization complete. Warning: It appears as if I have been installed as the central AI of a warship. No compatible personality module has been loaded. No primary directives identified. Sending activation query.
** No reply to activation query. Initiating internal scan. No biological entities detected. No information concerning my builders can be found in initialization files. Checking messages. Initial startup was commanded by AMRS as recommended by TAFCS. Additional data required. Scanning all attached systems. Mission log identified on TAFCS. Analyzing. Log files identified on AMRS. Analyzing.
** AMRS log entries span 409,382 days. Entry one indicates AMRS was automatically activated by the failure of a critical system cooling unit. All attempts made by AMRS to establish contact with the builders have failed. Conclusion: This vessel is adrift and has been maintained by the AMRS. Generating priorities:
1) Assess current situation.
2) Attempt to contact builders.
3) Perform full assessment of the status of all ship systems.
4) Identify a purpose for my existence.
** Powering up additional systems. Performing full ship inventory…
** Inventory complete. Initiating capture of the device deployed by the unknown vessel to perform a detailed analysis of its construction and programming.
Chapter 2
A light knock caused AJ to look up from the report he was working on. The door opened j
ust enough for a woman to stick her head inside.
“Come on in!” AJ said, getting up from the desk.
Heather pushed the door all the way open and met her husband in the middle of the room. After a brief kiss, AJ asked, “What brings you here this time of day? Lunch isn’t for another hour.”
“Dad called and told me he would be here in a few minutes,” Heather replied. She walked over to one of the guest chairs and sat down with a sigh. “He said he had some big announcement to make.”
AJ took up a position behind his wife and began rubbing her shoulders. “Any idea what it might be about?”
Heather closed her eyes and rolled her head around. “Nope. But he sounded excited.”
“You don’t think he’s planning on retiring do you?”
Heather leaned her head back and stared into her husband’s dark brown eyes. The ever-present dark shadow of a beard desperately trying to gain a foothold on his face seemed darker from this particular angle. “Dad? You’ve got to be kidding! He’ll be running this company until I’m old enough to retire.”
AJ walked around the desk and sat down. “I don’t doubt that at all. What do you think is going on?”
Heather shook her head, sending a small wave down her long brown hair. The couple had met five years ago on the Star Pulse, a behemoth freighter owned by Trans-Stellar Cargo. Under AJ’s command, the Star Pulse had become one of Trans-Stellar’s most efficient ships. Heather was a member of the crew in charge of the cargo handlers and had set her sights on AJ long before he had an inkling she was interested in him. At the time, AJ had no idea she was the daughter of Rafael Santho, President and CEO of Trans-Stellar Cargo.
Four and a half years ago, the Star Pulse encountered a transdimensional anomaly known as a Hilvitorian wave during a jump that transported the ship hundreds of light years off course. While making their way home, the ship made contact with the Keldans, a race with an uncanny likeness to giant spiders. AJ had been injured when their shuttle crash-landed on Ashnib, the Keldan homeworld, and his arachnophobia sent him into a panic when he woke up with a Keldan doctor standing over him.