Silence.
“Not as such, no. I used the ship’s communications array to interface with the mining camp’s computer and initiated a download of the library computer’s medical archive to learn more about your species’s physiology. After assimilating the medical archive, I identified certain nucleotide sequences in the castaway’s genome that appeared suspect, so I devoted further computational resources to extrapolating the quality of the castaway’s long-term health and wellness. My extrapolations indicated a 73.877% chance that the castaway would present certain genetic diseases that are incurable by your people’s current level of medical understanding and technology. As the auto-doc possessed the capability to perform pre-programmed genetic therapies, I conducted simulations until I identified a treatment plan that would produce optimal results without adverse side-effects or long-term complications, and I transmitted that gene therapy to the auto-doc as a supplemental instruction.”
Cole sat at the helm console in silence for several moments before he sighed and said, “Srexx, buddy…we’re going to have to discuss the concept of informed medical consent at some point.”
Cole stood from the helm console once the ship reported a status of ‘Docking Complete.’ He was halfway to the bridge’s starboard access hatch when he remembered Srexxilan saying something about a superior state of wellness or something like that when he first woke up.
“Srexx?”
“Yes, Cole?”
“When exactly did you download and assimilate that medical archive?”
“I assimilated that medical archive while treating injuries to your person I caused in my first attempt to communicate.”
“Srexx, did you perform any enhancements or adjustments on me?”
Silence.
“Perhaps we should discuss the answer to that question in detail and privacy once you have retrieved your castaway.”
Cole donned his suit once more, which informed him it still hadn’t established communication with his implant. As he left the bridge, the suit informed him that only partial atmosphere existed on Deck Three, but that didn’t matter to Cole so much at the moment. He crossed to the transit shaft and, going up to Deck Two, crossed to the port airlock. It was a simple matter to cycle the airlock, especially under partial pressure, and move over to the mining camp. Cole traveled the short distance to the final airlock and soon stood inside the suit locker. He removed the suit but didn’t leave it. After all, he didn’t know how much air was left.
Cole turned the corner into the corridor where the medical alcove and mess hall were located and found Yeleth and Wixil standing over several piles of…well…stuff. He saw a sheet of sterile polymer laid out under a considerable amount of foodstuffs from the galley and mess hall dispensaries. He saw a small cloth bag with a shoulder strap tied shut at the top, and motion catching his eye, Cole looked at the pharmaceutical cabin as the unlatched door swung on its hinges. The shelves were bare. Cole’s eyes flicked back to the cloth bag, and he decided it looked just about the right size to hold the former contents of that pharma cabinet.
“It looks like you two have been busy,” Cole said as he approached.
“Yes,” Yeleth said. “I didn’t know if the ship you were bringing had any kind of food or outfitting or anything like that. I didn’t want to assume…and we had time on our hands.”
The wall panel was on the far side of the assembled stacks of goods, so Cole jerked his chin toward it, asking, “How long does the wall panel say the air will last?”
Yeleth turned, examining it. “Six hours’ air remaining, but there is a note indicating the estimate is very imprecise as the leakage can no longer be calculated.”
“Hmmm.” Cole stepped over to the auto-doc and looked at its read-out. “There’s nothing for it, I don’t think. We’ll move the medical pod when we’re ready to leave. I need to go check on something. Can you two keep going through all the quarters and offices? We don’t need to take personal effects; the victims’ families might want those. But, mattresses, bed linens, pillows, flatware, eating utensils…anything and everything you think we might need, grab it. We can’t count on this ship to have anything beyond breathable air, gravity, and power; it’s been derelict for a very long time.”
Both Yeleth’s and Wixil’s ears perked up as their tails curled almost into question marks.
Cole grinned. “I know. You want to ask questions. Let’s make sure we’re safe, first. Then, we can talk to our hearts’ content.”
“That is a wise course,” Yeleth said, punctuating her statement with a human-style nod.
Cole nodded back and headed back to the ship. He stopped in the suit locker long enough to don his suit once again, and the moment the helmet sealed to the suit, Cole froze. The status display wasn’t what he’d become accustomed to seeing.
Implant Detected. Full Communication Achieved.
Proceed with full orientation?
[Wink left for ‘Yes,’ right for ‘No,’ or both for ‘Later.’]
Well, well, well…it seemed Cole’s new implant was online at last. As much as Cole wanted to explore everything his suit and implant could do, he didn’t have the time right now. He winked both his eyes and headed for the ship, only to stop again.
If his implant was now online, did that mean he could make comms calls from it, like he could with his old implant? While he could save possibly precious time by just calling Srexx, Cole wasn’t sure he’d actually save time with the first call, because he first had to figure out if he could make a call and then how. Cole sighed. There was just too much to do in too little time. He resumed his journey to the ship.
Cole stood just inside the port-side airlock on the ship, and the suit said it detected a stable atmosphere. Cole took a deep breath to steady his nerves and performed the motion to disengage his suit and exit it. Once the helmet was in his hands and the suit hanging on his frame inert, Cole conducted an experimental sniff. The air was a tad stale, to be sure, but it was breathable air.
“Srexx?”
“Yes, Cole?” A speaker right over Cole’s head broadcasted Srexx’s voice.
“It’s looking like we need to move the medical pod over here. It has an internal battery and air supply for just such a reason, but I was wondering how we’d get the pod down to the hospital deck.”
“Ah. That is rather simple. At the forward and aft ends of each deck, there are cargo transit shafts. Unlike the personnel transit shafts, the cargo shafts use forcefields to generate platforms on which to place large amounts of inanimate objects that might not easily traverse a personnel shaft. I would suggest conveying the medical pod to the forward cargo shafts and taking the down-shaft to Deck Ten.”
“Yeah…that is simple. Say, is there some way we can lock the airlock hatches open? We’re stripping everything of use in the mining camp, outside of personal effects of the deceased, and it would make it a lot easier if we didn’t have to go through the airlock cycling each time.”
“There’s a panel on the aft side of the interior hatch you can use to lock the hatches open, or you can instruct the ship’s computer to do it.”
Cole turned and, sure enough, there was a panel on the bulkhead beside the hatch. He approached the panel and tapped it. The panel came to life and displayed a menu of items related to the airlock’s function. It took Cole a few precious minutes, but he found the controls to lock the hatches open for easy loading.
“Thanks, Srexx! I’m going back to the mining camp. We’ll start cross-loading soon, and once we’re finished, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
“You’re welcome, Cole.”
It was just a matter of a few hours and lots of menial labor to retrieve, sort, and move everything they were taking with them from the mining camp to the ship. When Cole said he would start cross-loading everything to the ship, Wixil asked her mother if she could help him, surprising Cole. Yeleth gave her permission, while directing an expression to Cole that informed him he’d be well advised to be on his bes
t behavior. Cole agreed…whole-heartedly. He remembered Yeleth’s claws, not that he was inclined not to be on his best behavior in the first place.
At long last, the time arrived to move the medical pod. The alert panel just down the corridor was wailing a shrill tone about the imminent lack of air. Cole navigated the medical pod’s menu and went through the prompts to switch the pod over to internal power and air supply. Then, it was a simple matter of disengaging the wheel locks, and Yeleth and Cole pushed the auto-doc out of the medbay, down the corridor, and through the airlock to the ship.
As they crossed onto the ship and entered the port corridor that ran from the bow to the stern, Yeleth froze, her ears perking up straight as her tail went rigid and straight like an exclamation point.
“This is an Old Ones’ ship!” Yeleth said.
“See, Mother?” Wixil said, a cheerful tone in her voice. “I told you it was!”
“Yes, Wixil, you did. I apologize for doubting you.”
Cole watched the two Ghrexels for a few moments before adding to the conversation, “So…it sounds like you might have things to tell me, but how about we get this auto-doc pod to the hospital deck first?”
Yeleth’s ears folded down as her tail went limp. “I’m sorry for getting distracted. I’ve never seen an Old Ones’ ship in such good condition. How do we get to the hospital deck?”
“Srexx gave me directions. We’re going to the forward cargo transit shaft, and we’ll take it down to Deck Nine. That’s the hospital deck.”
A short time later, Cole brought the two Ghrexels to the bridge. He couldn’t keep from smiling at how they gazed at everything with awe and wonder.
“Okay. We have a quick stop to make, where I hope we’ll be able to take aboard cargo that will finance outfitting this ship at Bremerton in Andersoll. After that, we’ll talk about where you want to go. Okay?”
Yeleth and Wixil shared a glance at one another before Yeleth nodded. Cole moved to the helm station and keyed the command to undock the ship. Then, he accessed the sensor systems and sent out a long-range omnidirectional pulse to update the sensor display with nearby objects, and somehow—despite all the clutter of the asteroid field, the sensors detected the ruined hulk that was once the freighter Howling Monkey. Cole selected it as a destination and keyed the command for the ship’s computer to proceed.
Chapter Eight
TMC-Claimed Asteroid Field
Pyllesc System
26 June 2999, 04:22 GST
Cole sat at the helm station, alone on the bridge. They had just left the mining camp, and after they were underway, the Ghrexels disappeared from the bridge. They were exploring or something, but Cole didn’t mind. He knew Srexx or the ship’s computer would keep them from getting into too much trouble. Exploring wouldn’t be such a bad idea for him, either; it was his ship now, after all. Speaking of that…
“Srexx?”
“Yes, Cole?” The bridge speakers carried Srexx’s voice.
“I realized I know next to nothing about a ship that saved my life and that I’ve claimed as my own.”
“I see. This ship is named Vilaxicar. It is a Class I Battle-Carrier built around a multi-mission design, rather than a specific role. The hospital deck is a case in point. Nowhere on this ship will you find a provision for families, and yet, the hospital deck contains pediatric, neonatal, and maternity wards. The designers wanted this ship capable of deploying to a disaster and having all the capability necessary to conduct relief efforts. There is a transit shaft almost the same size as those that pass between the flight, hangar, and cargo decks that goes from the flight deck to the hospital deck without any stops, the idea being that ambulance transports could land on the flight deck to deliver patients for the hospital deck with minimal delay.
“As you saw, the ship contains impressive armaments on the weapons deck, but it is missing all of its dorsal and ventral turrets. It is triple-hulled, with the exterior hull possessing considerable armor. Like most ships my people designed, it possesses quintuple-layer shielding; such a design requires considerable redundancy in the shield power grid and emitter arrays, but the ship’s generator provides ample power. I should point out, though, only three shield layers are active at this time; the remaining shield emitters were never installed.”
“You’re right. All that is rather impressive, but I have to ask. How does it move? I mean, Newtonian physics are no joke, and I’ve not seen anything that makes me think this ship isn’t subject to Newtonian physics.”
Silence.
“Ah…yes. You are referring to the ancient Earth scientist Isaac Newton and his three Laws of Motion. Yes. If my people had relied on propellant-based propulsion, this ship would never move…nor would any of my peoples’ other designs. In assimilating your awareness of ship technology, I have learned many among your people consider the so-called ‘reactionless drive’ to be a long sought-after prize in starship engineering. Such a concept as a reactionless drive is utter nonsense; what they are discussing is propellant-less propulsion, which my people achieved. This ship’s sublight engines push against the fabric of space to propel the ship at fractions of light-speed, and the maneuvering system distributed across the ship’s hull provides a flight profile similar to that of a destroyer or an adroit cruiser. Again, as the ship’s generator provides a substantial surplus of power at even seventy percent output, we are not lacking energy for the ship’s systems.”
Cole considered everything Srexx was telling him as he watched the ship arc over the asteroid field on an intercept course for the remains of the freighter he’d been piloting. At the very least, he knew he’d be able to retrieve the ship’s computer core and black box, the emergency data recorder every ship, shuttle, or other craft carried whose name harkened back to a similar device aboard aircraft in the skies of his people’s home-world…Earth. That thought caused Cole’s musings to drift off topic as he considered where his species had begun.
Earth. Earth and the Solar Republic. Comprised of the Home System (Sol) and the six oldest colonies that were now independent systems in their own right, many held up the Solar Republic as the shining example of everything Humanity could and should achieve. The newest technologies always appeared in the Solar Republic first. The Solar Republic was far richer and more populous than any other human star-faring polity known to exist. They were the most advanced and prosperous human civilization…anywhere…and the ‘children’ were always careful not to rile Mommy and Daddy overmuch, lest the Republic’s fleets and soldiers arrived to smite the unruly.
“Srexx, is there any way to move three pallets containing one thousand kilograms each from my old freighter to this ship?”
“We do have one tractor sled in Cargo Two that my people chose not to retrieve…for unknown reasons. They were rather efficient and removing everything else that wasn’t built into a deck or bulkhead…or corrupted by my sentience. They also left a shuttle in the hangar deck.”
Cole noticed Srexx’s phrasing there, the whole ‘corrupted by my sentience’ bit. It gave more weight to his questions of how reconciled Srexx was to his exile. Still though, Cole couldn’t blame him. They—whoever they were—buried him alive in the crust of a planet and left him there for all time. That didn’t match what little Srexx had mentioned about his people’s supposed higher-minded philosophies.
“How difficult is that tractor sled to pilot?”
“It is not difficult at all, but you’ll need your suit,” Srexx said.
“Oh?”
“Yes. It does not have an enclosed cockpit with life support; the driver’s seat—for lack of a better term—will be open to space once you depart the ship.”
Cole nodded. “Good to know.”
“Srexx, where are the Ghrexels?”
“They…appear to be engaged in grooming themselves in quarters on the deck above. I do not have sufficient knowledge of their customs and beliefs to be any more specific about the activity without risking their privacy.”
; “Oh, trust me. I don’t want exacting detail. I was just wondering if they wanted spacesuits like mine.”
“They would need implants like yours, for the suit to be fully utilized. I do not possess sufficient information regarding Ghrexel physiology to design an implant based on your device.”
Cole smiled. “What I’m hearing here is you want more medical data.”
“Cole,” Srexx’s voice sounding a mix of assumed shock and chiding, “I would never refuse more data…medical or otherwise.”
It took less than an hour to reach the wreck of the ship Cole had been piloting just the day before. The remains of the Howling Monkey drifted near the outside periphery of the asteroid belt, and sensor scans of the ruined hulk confirmed Cole’s belief the destroyer had pounded the poor ship to scrap. Cole input commands into the helm for the ship to remain on-station no closer than two kilometers and no more than five, assuming Srexx had converted his people’s measurements to humanity’s units. Still, the ship seemed to close on the wreck and shut down the engines at the appropriate time, so maybe Srexx’s math wasn’t that far off.
“Computer,” Cole called, as he stood from the helm.
Nothing.
“Ship!”
Still nothing.
“If you are attempting to access the ship’s computer, Cole, it is programmed to respond only to the ship’s name.”
Cole sighed, saying, “Vilaxicar?”
“Yes, Cole-Captain?”
Cole frowned at the speakers built into the reinforced ceiling of the bridge. He wanted to educate the computer about modes of address, but now wasn’t the time.
“When I depart the bridge, lock out all access to it until I return, and contact me on my implant if any emergencies develop aboard the ship.”
“Yes, Cole-Captain.”
Cole gave the speakers another flat look before taking a deep breath and letting it out as a heavy sigh. He would have to do something about that…soon.
It Ain't Over... (Cole & Srexx Book 1) Page 6