Nemza’ri was starving.
Before taking the pre-flight sleep drug, twenty hours of fasting had been required to purge her body of waste material. With no food or water after revival, she’d been hungry even before being sealed inside the hull bubble. She’d been trapped there alone in the darkness for days while her data connect to the ship remained strangely silent, depriving her of the connectedness she was so accustomed to. Self diagnostics reassured her that her cerebral implants were fully functioning, indicating the link had been severed by the ship itself. That could only mean the Command Nexus had disabled ancillary functions to free up capacity to focus upon the emergency.
Nemza’ri remained calm, even though she was trapped in a tiny space with no light and no fresh air, and the ship had for a time shuddered and trembled around her. Never in all the centuries she’d served aboard had she ever sensed movement. Internal acceleration fields always perfectly offset inertial effects no matter how violent the ship’s maneuvers were. To feel the actual motion of the ship was truly shocking.
Before the vibrations had ended, the ship’s gravity failed. It was then she knew the great vessel had been truly stricken by disaster. Artificial gravity was as basic as food and water, and for it to terminate meant a catastrophic malfunction. It filled her with dread, knowing if the ship accelerated, she would be instantly crushed to death. While the Command Nexus would try to protect the lives of everyone aboard, it would not hesitate to sacrifice her to save the ship. The realization triggered a primal fear that started her oversized pulmonary glands pumping hormones far more powerful than adrenalin through her body. The survival hormones filled her with strength, and an urge to move fast, yet all she could do was wait.
Hours passed, but the crushing acceleration did not come.
Nemza’ri began to wonder if the ship was adrift in space, and if she would be entombed in her tiny bubble forever. With no power, the hull’s quantum geometry could not be altered to reform the access tunnel she’d crawled through, sealing her inside a solid wall of metal. Without power, the ship’s sensors would not know she was alive, and rescue parties would be unable to locate her. She wondered if there was even enough power to revive the crew and power the repair drones.
For the first time in her life, she faced the prospect of death.
With a clear mind, she calculated her best chance of survival, directing her autonomic implants to lower her metabolic rate. She could not self hibernate without drugs, but she could slow her consumption of the limited air supply to the bare minimum necessary to sustain life without causing brain damage. It would give the maintenance drones time to carry out repairs and discover her presence in the outer hull. Moments after instructing her implants to change her body’s settings, she fell into a shallow artificial coma.
A long time later, her implants roused her. For a moment, she was confused about her surroundings, then she smelled the fetid air. She had consumed much of the oxygen in the small bubble, turning her meager air supply into a thick and musty vapor. Nemza’ri emitted her equivalent of a cough, then realized why her implants had roused her. She was lying hard against the cold metal hull.
Gravity had returned!
A wave of relief washed over her. It would only be a matter of time before internal sensors reactivated, and the Command Nexus regained control over the hull’s geometry. Her main fear became her air supply. It was rapidly running out. Without a moment to spare, she directed her implants to send her back to sleep, and not wake her again until the air’s oxygen content increased. She would either die in her sleep, or awake to fresh air.
Days passed before her implants roused her again.
She took a deep breath, smelling moist, thick air. Her olfactory implant told her it was an oxygen nitrogen mix with unusually high concentrations of carbon. It had been almost eight million years since her species had used carbon based fuels, so it did not occur to her that this was the atmosphere of a world dependant on burning such fuels for energy. She opened her eyes, noting the strange yellow tint to the light. She knew at once it was the light of a main sequence yellow star, rather than the cooler glow of the orange star her kind preferred. Turning her head, she found the access tunnel had reformed, opening the way through to the outer hull and to the world beyond. She stared out at a blue sky, feeling a comforting warmth in the air. She had no doubt the Command Nexus would have already determined the atmosphere was breathable before ventilating the ship. She had no concern for alien microbes, because her immune system implants would instantly destroy any harmful organism. It was the fact the ship had landed on such a world at all that shocked her. Their destination had been a system with a yellow star, but a world considerably cooler than the one outside.
She wondered if the ship had crashed, and if so, how had she survived?
Lying just beyond her head was a silver line on the tunnel floor, the remains of the maintenance drone that had been crushed when the ship had sealed itself. She looked past her feet, finding the access tunnel back into the ship had also reformed. The maintenance passageway beyond was now illuminated by a weak flickering light. Her curiosity inclined her to crawl to the end of the access tunnel and look out at the world the ship had landed on, but her duty told her she had to make herself available to help with the repair work. After a last glance at the blue sky outside, she crawled back through the hull to the passageway.
When she emerged, she expected to see a med drone waiting with food and water, ready to subject her to a full bioscan. What she found was an empty corridor lit by a single flickering emergency light. She stood on wobbly legs, surprised and dismayed, searching the corridor for any sign of aid. The Command Nexus had to know she was suffering from starvation and dehydration, yet it had done nothing to assist her other than allowing her back into the ship. She tried reestablishing her mind link with the ship, but while the implant was fully functional, the ship-wide network failed to acknowledge her. She walked stiffly to the grav lift, pinging it with her biosonar. She planned to go straight to her quarters to clean up and devour a protein pack or three. Strangely, the sonic sensor did not respond, then when she stepped on the grav lift, it failed to activate.
Nemza’ri leaned against the wall weakly, instructing her autonomic implants to trigger survival responses throughout her body. Hormones flooded her system, giving her a temporary boost in strength, but her implants warned that her organs would not survive further artificial stimulation. She ignored the warnings, certain she’d have to find her way out of the damaged section alone. Nemza’ri triggered a memory implant, bringing up the ship’s schematic. It showed the ship in its undamaged state, because with the data connect down, her memories had not been updated for the damage the ship had suffered.
She zoomed the schematic in to the nearest bulkhead, then plotted a course to the closest transit artery. In an emergency, the main cargo lifts would be powered to enable damage control drones to move heavy equipment through the ship. Nemza’ri pushed off the wall, inhaled the alien air deeply, then forced her short, tired legs to work.
It was a big ship, and she had a long way to go.
CHAPTER 5
“No movement,” Cougar reported over the short range radio. He knelt beside a tree, peering through his rifle’s telescopic sight, tracking from one side of the destroyed research station to the other. “Looks deserted.”
“Vamp, you got anything?” Beckman asked.
Vamp lay under cover, waiting for Cougar to complete his recon. She worked the crystal ball’s settings from short to long range. As soon as she zoomed out, the device detected multiple contacts in the forest, but she’d already discovered she was picking up the local wildlife. “Nothing close.”
“OK, move up,” Beckman ordered.
Cougar crept towards the edge of the forest, while the rest of the team followed at a distance, spread out in an arc behind him. When he reached the edge of the forest, he paused for a final look. “I count six buildings, all destroyed. Two are burnt to th
e ground.”
“Bodies?” Beckman asked as he approached Cougar’s position.
“None visible.”
Beckman knelt beside Cougar, drawing his field glasses. It was late afternoon, and the shadows from the surrounding trees almost spanned the research station’s grounds.
“Looks like a tornado hit it,” Cougar said.
“Or a bomb,” Beckman replied, then thumbed his mike. “We’re going in.” He rose and headed for the remains of the main house. “Keep an eye out for bodies. There’s supposed to be a man and a woman living here.”
“Nuke and Timer, go left,” Hooper barked. “Xeno and Virus, take the right. Everyone else provide cover.”
Beckman smelled the stench of death as he reached the ruins of the house, then he spotted a swarm of flies buzzing around the mangled crocodile carcass lying alongside the wrecked surveyor. “Doc, got something for you.”
The scientist eagerly hurried out of the forest, while Markus followed more slowly, studying the collection of shattered buildings warily. Whereas the scientist couldn’t wait to reach Beckman, Markus took time to survey the area, looking for clues.
“What’s that smell?” Dr McInness demanded as he reached Beckman, placing a handkerchief over his mouth. When he saw the headless remains of the crocodile, he winced, then his eyes opened wide when he spotted the surveyor. He made a feeble attempt to brush away the flies swarming around the crocodile’s naked flesh, then retrieved the insect repellent from his pack. He sprayed it in a wide arc at the flies, who barely noticed its presence.
“Yeah, that’ll work,” Beckman said dryly.
Dr McInness removed the Geiger counter from his pack and aimed the sensor at the wrecked machine. When the machine only registered a faint ticking, he looked surprised. “Nothing but background radiation. I guess its power source isn’t radioactive.”
Dr McInness returned the Geiger counter to his pack, then grabbed one of the surveyor’s legs and tried to pull it away from the crocodile’s corpse. The scientist tugged feebly on the machine, groaning from the effort but unable to budge it. Beckman watched amused for a moment, then took the surveyor’s leg from the scientist and dragged the machine away from the crocodile’s corpse, and the swarm of insects.
“Thanks,” Dr McInness said appreciatively.
“You need to eat more spinach.”
Dr McInness looked at him strangely. “Really? Does spinach have an enzyme that repels insects?”
Beckman scowled. “Spinach, as in Popeye.”
Dr McInness gave him a blank look, then turned his attention to the surveyor, peering through the torn outer casing at the solid metal cubes inside and the ruptured specimen compartments. “The crocodile must have mistaken it for food.”
“Yeah, kind of looks like a giant frankfurter.”
Dr McInness retrieved the damaged cube, torn from its mount by the force of the explosion, and turned it over in his hand. “This could be the power supply.”
Markus paced around the far side of the lab toward the dead reptile, deep in thought. “Part of its jaw is over that way, near the trees.”
Dr McInness turned his attention to the dull metal strip running along the machine’s underside, rolling the surveyor on its side for a better look.
“Do you recognize the technology?” Beckman asked.
“No, but we need to get it back to Groom for analysis.”
“We’ll pick it up on the way out.”
Dr McInness pointed to the exposed compartments. “It was obviously collecting samples. It proves they’re scientists, not invaders.”
“Depends what they’re collecting samples for,” Markus said suspiciously.
“Look around, Doc, something sure hit this place hard,” Beckman added.
Dr McInness glanced at the remains of the six shattered buildings uncomfortably. “The tremor from the ship’s impact could have caused it.”
Markus looked doubtful. “These buildings have survived tropical cyclones. Do you really think a little tremor would knock them down?”
Dr McInness looked pensively about him, then returned his attention to the surveyor.
Hooper completed a circuit of the compound and stopped alongside Beckman. “No bodies, no vehicles, no sign of a fight. They might have driven out. The fires smell of gasoline. Looks deliberate.”
“You think they torched their own buildings?” Beckman asked as he ran his eyes over the charred remains of the garage and the machine shed. “Why burn only two buildings? Why burn any of them?”
Hooper shrugged uncertainly.
Markus wandered toward the collapsed laboratory, studying the debris, clearly puzzled by what he saw.
“Search the surrounding area,” Beckman ordered. “Ten meters beyond the tree line, in case someone’s out there wounded.”
Hooper gave a curt nod, then headed off to organize a search.
“What’s wrong with this picture?” Markus asked, staring thoughtfully at the twisted remains of the laboratory.
Beckman glanced at the collapsed building and shrugged. “You mean apart from the fact that it’s been smashed to pieces?”
“The nails are gone.”
Beckman blinked. He’d completely missed it. Now everywhere he looked, he saw small empty nail holes. “Damn! You’re right.”
Markus studied the other buildings with the eye of a professional observer. “There’s no metal anywhere.” He turned to the burned out remains of the garage, trying to piece the clues together. “They didn’t drive out.”
Beckman thumbed his mike. “Can anyone see metal, any kind of metal, anywhere?”
There was a long pause, then Hooper’s voice sounded in their earpieces. “Nothing. This place has been picked clean.”
“What could have done this?” Beckman asked.
“A very powerful electro magnet,” Dr McInness replied. “They would have had computers here, communications, electronics, all kinds of samples of our technology. They’ve obviously taken it all, for study.” He held up the metal cube. “Just like I’m taking this!”
Beckman looked doubtful. “It’s an extreme way to collect samples.”
“It would have appeared to be a treasure trove of our civilization’s artifacts,” Dr McInness replied, “Especially if the people here had abandoned it after the earthquake.”
“Or they kidnapped the people who lived here as specimens,” Beckman said coldly.
Dr McInness winced uncomfortably. “If they’re really far ahead of us, I mean millions of years, they may not consider us an intelligent species.”
“If they’re so damn smart,” Beckman snapped, “How come that big lizard ate one of their toys?”
“Because it’s a scientific instrument, not a weapon! It wasn’t designed to–”
“Major!” Vamp’s voice sounded urgently in their headsets, her eyes riveted to the crystal ball. “Incoming! Very fast, from the west.”
He thumbed his mike. “Is it airborne?”
“Can’t tell, but it’s almost on top of us.”
Beckman flicked his M16’s safety off as he turned to the west where the harsh yellow sun still filled the sky. A silver metallic flash caught his eye just above the tree tops. It moved with astonishing speed, landing in front of the marsupial house.
It was a machine composed of four sections threaded by a central black spine. The sensor disk at the top of the spine was a glassy black metallic mirror, providing three hundred and sixty degree vision across the EM spectrum, while the three lower sections were made of a highly reflective silver metal. The two sections below the sensor disk were thin cylinders, stacked horizontally on top of each other. Each cylinder was fitted with a pair of long multijointed arms equipped with spherical hands, each hand with four flexible digits. The two cylinders could rotate independently around the spine, giving the arms complete freedom of movement. Below the arms, the spine terminated in a downward pointing, conical hip section, which was attached to two slender, multijointed legs end
ing in feet equipped with three claw-like toes. The machine’s skeletal appearance gave the impression of thin fragility, yet it moved more gracefully than the finest athlete. When it hit the ground, it didn’t slow. Its legs bent to absorb the shock, then it ran forward so fast it became a silver blur.
Beckman’s rifle was pointed straight at the robotic seeker. For a fraction of a second, he knew he could make the shot, but Dr McInness’ insistence that these aliens were scientists, not invaders, made him hesitate
“Hold your fire unless it attacks!” he bellowed, wondering whether a bullet could even catch the super-fast machine.
The seeker charged straight towards Beckman. He switched his weapon to full auto, but kept his finger off the trigger. He braced, expecting it to knock him down, but at the last moment it swerved to the right and came to an instant stop beside the destroyed surveyor. The way it stopped surprised them all. There was no skidding, no slowing, just one minute it was moving at blurring speed, next it was at a complete standstill. One of its multijointed metal arms scooped up the wrecked surveyor, then sprayed a milky white “fluid” over the surveyor from the palm of its “hand”. The substance ran up and over surfaces as if it was alive, completely enveloping the wrecked machine.
“Amazing!” Dr McInness declared, recognizing the substance was following preprogrammed instructions.
“What is?” Beckman asked.
“Nano technology! Machines functioning at a molecular level!”
The seeker dashed forward again, carrying the surveyor with it, now fully wrapped in a white membrane. It darted around the area retrieving pieces of the surveyor, which it slid into the nano membrane. When the seeker scooped up the last piece of wreckage, it raced back to the dead crocodile. In a single fluid motion, its free hand flashed down and cut away a slice of the reptile’s flesh, then added it to the nano membrane.
“See that, Major?” Dr McInness said excitedly. “It’s taking a sample of what destroyed the other machine!”
Beckman’s instincts told him there was another explanation. Threat assessment.
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