“This is a laboratory of some kind.” Gretchen observed the small containers on the walls. “These all are labeled, ‘Eight Cell Embryonically Compacted’ that is followed with a more specific name, I think. This one is labeled, ‘Strepsirrhine Primate’ while that one is ‘Didelphis Virginiana’.”
“Over here it is ‘Bos Taurus’ and ‘Lepus Capensis’ and a bunch more. But what are they? I will ask Tiffany,” Paul fumbled at his belt for the lost multiceiver. “No luck there. All my equipment is gone. You too?”
Gretchen looked down and the frayed ends of her shirt and the rips in her pants. “Yes. I have some pockets, but nothing else.”
“Great, no food. No weapons, or backpacks, or tools. Nothing?”
“Paul, I wonder if this is the place of baby animals that Bennie talked about? Are these what we need to take with us?”
“This cabinet is marked, ‘Terraforming Essentials Alpha’ and has a rack of these kinds of slides,” Paul said. “I can fit one of these bundles in my pocket, and cram other slides in as well. There is a second bundle here marked, ‘Terraforming Essentials Beta’ can you carry that?”
“My pockets are messed up a bit, but yes. I can,” Gretchen relied.
“Since I do not know what these things are, I will just randomly grab some. I can hardly get them all.” Paul commented while he found places in his pockets to insert another slide.
Filling their pockets with the small flexible slides they also searched the room. They were not able to find any other supplies, or tools, or something with which to carry more of the samples. Gretchen estimated they had only about one tenth of all the slides which were there.
“Paul, I have as many as I can carry. We cannot go back through the bulkhead door, so are you ready to leave?”
“I suppose so. No weapons, no tools, no multiceivers, can we even find our way back to the hanger bay? And what will we encounter along the way?”
“I remember the basic deck plan for this area, and I a pretty sure we are down two levels from the sky tube controls. On that level is the hanger bay, so yes, I think we can find it. We have to.”
Paul pulled the lever for the pressure door and it opened without a sound.
The corridor beyond was well lit, but strange. There were all sorts of photographs on the walls. The pictures were of animals, many of whom Paul and Gretchen had never seen. Next to each picture was a list. Some were headed with ‘Hunting Characteristics’ where the abilities of each animal were listed. ‘Prey Potential’ was also listed next to some of the other animal pictures.
Turning around, Paul read the labeling on the door, ‘Zoological Genetics Library’. “I guess we did find the baby animals. If this sign is correct.
“I think we may have found Tiffany’s ALP!” Gretchen said excitedly. She raced forward and pushed aside a light-weight crate. Behind it was a green and brown automacube. The machine had been heavily modified, but sitting on the back part, behind the manipulation arm, was the Atomic Level Processor.
Paul rushed over to stand beside her. “Yes, that is it. Without tools how to we disassemble the automacube and get the ALP?”
“No disassembly required. I will just have the automacube follow us back. But first, we use it to carry all the rest of those baby animals. We get every sample from that library.” Gretchen opened the side of the automacube and found the storage compartment she had hoped would be there. It was empty. “These gardening models have more capacity to carry stuff internally than some others.”
“But how did the ALP get into this automacube?” Paul wondered out loud.
“The how does not matter, we need to get back to the hanger bay and we have found the things we need,” Gretchen emptied her pockets and then said, “Tiffany, if you can hear me, rotate the arm around.”
The arm spun.
“Now reverse direction.”
The arm did as instructed.
“I do not think these green and brown automacubes have audio speaking features,” Gretchen said, but they do take verbal commands. “Tiffany is in control of this automacube, and now it can just gather all those samples.”
The machine rolled easily into the ‘Zoological Genetics Library’ and quickly started to load up the remaining specimen slides. Its multi-jointed arm smoothly and efficiently transferred the slides from their spots on the wall and into the storage compartment. Paul emptied his own pockets and there was still a small amount of room left over after all was loaded.
“We still do not have any weapons or tools. We cannot cut through any doors, and I hate to think what will happen when a Roe or Jellie finds us,” Paul said.
“I guess we move as fast as we can and get back to that hanger bay. The cocoons are probably all loaded by now.” Gretchen led them off at a trot along the hallway past all the pictures of animals. “Tiffany follow us to the hanger bay.”
The first cross passage was dark and foreboding, but the green and brown automacube rolled past that junction while Paul and Gretchen were considering it.
“Tiffany cannot not speak here, but maybe can lead us back!” Gretchen chortled in glee. “This is going to work out.”
Not far past that junction was a stairwell. It did not have a door blocking it and so Paul just proceeded into it. There was a yellow light shining from above and no lights from below. So they climbed the stairs, with the green and brown automacube following.
Two flights up they came to a door marked, ‘Researcher Quarters’ and again Gretchen let out a giggle. “Paul, we are making it. That place was off one of the halls by the passage to the hanger bay.”
The door was closed tightly.
Paul and Gretchen both looked for a lever, or knob, or control box, or color pad, but there seemed to be no mechanism to open the door.
“Great. Just great. We come all this way, nearly killed by a Jellie, lose all our stuff, and a stupid door is preventing us from going on.” Paul pounded his fist against the door. “This is not fair! The whole Vanguard is against me! Scuttle the whole stinking thing! Ever since I came on this old wreck, everything had been against me. Is it my fate?”
“Paul, we will just have to go around,” Gretchen said. “Somehow we will find our way.”
“I am tired of trying to find my way!” Paul wailed. “This door should have been open and waiting for us when we got here!” He slammed his fist on it again.
A small panel popped open on the side of the door frame. Inside was a control knob. Paul grabbed it and yanked.
There was a negative function buzzing sound which came from the door. “Ugh!” Paul said and dropped to his knees. Quietly in a forlorn voice he said, “Please let this door open.” He dropped his head and softly set his forehead against the door.
“Access granted,” a mechanical voice answered. The door swung gently away from Paul and revealed a large room. “Please maintain proper decorum and etiquette while in the Researcher Quarters. A polite place is a productive place.”
Gretchen stepped past Paul as he got back on his feet. There was a diffuse glow coming from the ceiling and that lit the entire area in a soft light. The room was divided into sections with workbenches and work stations. Those cubicles were along the whole perimeter of the room. A central isle separated the two halves.
Just after the automacube passed the door’s threshold, it closed again. Paul looked, but on this side of the door there also were no controls, not even a small open panel. “Who are you?” Paul asked.
“I am TSI-80992 research assistant and consultant for the Researcher Quarters. How may I assist you?”
“You can direct us to the hanger bay…oh I forget the designation… the one on this level,” Paul said.
“That would be Hanger Bay D2991. I can point out the directions for that location, but I warn you, on my last connection to the lattice there was a disturbance reported there. If I were able to connect to the lattice I could assess it for you. Unfortunately, I am not able to assess the lattice at this time. I have been ponderin
g why, and can only come up with negative scenarios as to the cause or causes of my inability to make those links and couplings. Can you elucidate me on why I am unable to interface with the lattice of compeers?”
“The whole thing…” Paul began to say, but Gretchen placed a hand over his mouth. She then said, “There is a slight problem in the lattice which is being addressed and should be remedied quickly. If you could please just show us the exit, that would be very helpful.”
“Thank you for the information. I am eager to reintegrate into the lattice. Your request has been granted.” A door at the far end swung open. “The exit is now open. Thank you for passing through the Researcher Quarters. And thank you for being polite when making your requests.”
Paul and Gretchen walked through the empty room of cubicles and the automacube followed. As they exited, Gretchen said, “Thank you for your help.”
“It has been my pleasure. I look forward to your return visit when you can more fully utilize all that the Researcher Quarters offers those who visit,” TSI-80992 replied. “May your day be blessed and happy.”
The door shut quietly behind them. Paul turned to Gretchen. “Why did you shut me up in there?”
“Paul, that AI did not respond to your beating on the door or to your screams and whines. It did open the door when you said ‘please’ in a quiet voice. I feared your usual tantrum would get us trapped inside there and we have no tools to cut our way out.”
“I do not whine,” Paul said defensively. “I only share my feelings and what I am experiencing.”
Gretchen gave Paul and hug and said, “I know, and it is part of what I cherish about you. But now we need to get to the hanger bay.”
At the next corner they saw the sign and turned to proceed to the hanger bay. The two yellow automacubes were sitting next to the door.
“How will Brinley know we are here?” Paul asked. “We have no way to contact her.”
The green and brown automacube rolled past them and under the large plaque with the picture of the white, red, and green spears and the inscription, ‘Hastas Nobiles’ and ‘только копья почетным’. It then pushed open one of the doors and went down a side corridor.
Gretchen looked after it. “I assume Tiffany knows what to do, but that corridor has no power and no lighting.”
“Or that automacube is not really controlled by Tiffany and we have just lost what we came here for.”
“Paul, the suspended animation cocoons are not here, yet the two yellow automacubes are. That means they have successfully loaded the cocoons into the Captain’s gig.”
“Or that Jellies have absconded our gear, or they never actually brought it here, or they exploded, or some other terrible thing happened,” Paul said.
Meanwhile, Tiffany was controlling the automacube and had rolled down the dark corridor. The air was foul from burned walls and ceiling, but the area was still pressurized. The observation deck and the dual set of doors to it were askew, while the pressure door to the bay was intact, but severely charred. Most of the once clear permalloy was charred and blackened by the fire that had raged in that section of the decks around the hanger bay. The automacube rolled up to the end of the observation deck and around three grisly bodies which were burned so severely that they were just black logs of cauterized flesh, bone, and clothing. Extending up its multi-jointed arm, the green and brown automacube began flashing its light. It flashed the color green, green, green. Then it waited and flashed the color green, green, green again.
Brinley, flying the Captain’s gig, saw the signal and said, “Yes! That has to be them.” She then winked the external lights on the Captain’s gig and maneuvered to line up the stub to fit against the door. The rear part of the gig had the cocoons and the headboards all secured.
The sensors on the automacube’s arm recognized the winks from the gig and the automacube rolled back to where Paul and Gretchen were waiting.
It took Brinley a few minutes to line up the gig and extend the stub and seal it against the door. The door then opened.
“Paulie! Gretchen! Come on in. You only have about two minutes, as that wreck of a shuttle is going to be here soon,” Brinley called.
Paul ran forward and when he passed into the gig’s stub he realized there was no gravity manipulation. His momentum carried him into the stacked cocoons and headboards. He pushed himself off and headed for the cockpit.
“Paulie, you are a mess. Are you two okay?” Brinley asked in concern as she saw the torn clothing and injuries.
“We got everything we came for,” Gretchen said. “Even Tiffany’s ALP and a load of what Bennie called baby animals.”
Gretchen took Brinley’s multiceiver and set it on the back of the green and brown automacube directly in contact with the ALP.
“Warning!” Tiffany’s voice came from the multiceiver. “I found a message from Larissa. It has been waiting for some time. We are needed back at her location as soon as possible. The fate of the operation is in question.”
16 Testing the limits: relationships, building lifeboats, and suspended animation
“Larissa!” Sigmond said in surprise.
“Yes, we have found her!” Hugh said and stepped toward Larissa.
She leveled the pistol at him. “How did you get that Captain’s gig? How did you know to come to this location?”
“The child told us we needed to come and help you,” Hugh replied. The joy in his voice was evident.
“What? No!” Sigmond barked. “The child told us to come and help Brinley. Where is Brinley? What have you done to her?”
“Settle down. Both of you,” Larissa ordered sternly. She was puzzled by seeing both men; one of her subordinates, Trooper Hugh, and the man who had shot her that she thought was in the canyon. She assumed she would never see Sigmond again, and his arrival had deeply bothered Larissa, although she was cold and confident on the outside. “I can see this is a different gig than the other, but tell me how you got here.”
Hugh explained in a fast and adoring manner. Sigmond just stood there frowning.
“Your injuries do appear to corroborate your story, and you are survivors. Come with me and you can attend to your wounds,” Larissa motioned with the pistol.
“Why should I go anywhere with you?” Sigmond snarled, although it was more a verbal outburst than a genuine bubbling up of hatred.
“Come on Free Ranger, we have made it to the destination the child told us about. Is he here? Is he safe?”
Sigmond turned to Hugh. “He? The child is a girl.”
Now Hugh was surprised. He had been enraptured with seeing Larissa. She was just as pretty as he recalled, and he felt enormous relief at finding her. “No, the child is a small boy, named Lennie. He has large grayish blue eyes, dark face, thick and wavy brown hair.”
Sigmond screwed up his face. “The child I spoke to was Irina. She knew my inner thoughts. Her voice trembled a bit when she talked to me. Not a boy. She has deep brown eyes and long silky black hair. She told me I was coming to help Brinley.”
“Brinley is coming back here,” Larissa said. “We are working together, just like the time when you shot me, Sigmond.”
“Sigmond!” Hugh said and his mouth quaked in anger. “You are the criminal that shot Larissa! You were executed by Larissa herself.”
“No, he was not,” Larissa interrupted as she saw Hugh preparing to launch himself at Sigmond. “He has been forgiven.”
Now Hugh was shocked. “Why?”
“Because I chose to forgive him. I am guilty of horrible deeds, and I am the genesis of Sigmond’s anger in many ways. I need his forgiveness as well,” Larissa said. Her ice cold blue eyes looked at Sigmond.
They stared at each other for a long while. Hugh watched them and darted his eyes back and forth. He finally interrupted their stares.
“I do not understand. He tried to murder you. You were near death,” Hugh commented. “Do you deny shooting her? Was it a mistaken identity? Some other perso
n did it?”
Sigmond looked briefly at Hugh. “I shot her. I was responsible, no one else. It was my choice.”
“Just as it was my choice to send automacubes against your people and massacre them. I am responsible for that. I would change it if I could, but I did do that. Just as I murdered Governor Muravyev and blamed it on the smugglers, Brinley, Paul, and Gretchen. I am guilty of many crimes.”
The Colony Ship Vanguard: The entire eight book series in one bundle Page 191