The Fountain activated the shimmering green field around the craft. Looking out through the lander’s front viewport, Karic saw that this time, the Fountain himself was on the platform with them, also inside the field.
As they lifted rapidly into the sky, the field strengthened, enclosing the whole platform in a dome.
“Incredible. It must be air-tight,” said Karic.
They soared upward through the atmosphere as though shot from a sling, swiftly disappearing into the dark purple vaults of Cru’s immutable sky. The heavy storm activity, and the atmospheric drag on the platform and its insubstantial, enclosing dome sent it spinning wildly and there was nothing they could do except hang on. Karic had vivid memories of his perilous descent through the clouds to the surface. He certainly would not have expected he would be leaving like this.
Then all grew calm and dark. The stars appeared, winking into life in the viewport through the faint green haze of the platform’s enclosing shield. It seemed a lifetime since he had seen them, yet now they spread out in a majestic display, thousands of dazzling points nestled around the lazy curve of the planet. Tears of relief and joy flooded down his cheeks. It was over. They really were going home.
They hurtled away from Cru at an unchecked velocity.
Andrai leant forward over the console, working rapidly. “I’ve linked with the main computer!”
“Ready for docking,” came the voice of the Shipcom through the console speakers.
“How the hell are we supposed to dock?” said Mara.
Their velocity was slowing now, and they were truly weightless as the huge platform closed on their starship.
Cru continued to fall away behind them.
Appearing from the darkness like a vision of redemption, the Starburst grew before them. The dark gray metal of its massive superstructure slowly filled the lander’s viewport as they approached, then expanded further until all they saw was the docking bay and the front of the rotating habitat. The platform slowed until it matched Starburst’s vector, standing motionless relative to the huge ship. The green field swept out from the platform, forming a ghostly tunnel between the dome above the platform and the big doors of the main docking bay, which were forward of both the central hold and the rotating habitat ring. The huge robot lifted the lander, delicately straddling the gap between the platform and the Starburst’s docking bay.
They held their breath.
Outside, the Fintil floated in space, inside the bubble of breathable atmosphere enclosed by the field.
Karic watched in wonder.
The Fountain turned toward them and pointed to the docking doors.
“Open the dock, Andrai.”
“Are you sure, boss?”
Karic looked at the Fountain, once more amazed at the technology of the Fintil. It make humanity’s greatest achievements look like flint axes. But that hardly mattered. They were still their achievements.
“Open it.”
The docking bay doors drew back. Lights flickered on inside the dock. Karic knew all the hatches leading to the chamber would have been automatically sealed before it depressurized. Once the docking bay doors were fully retracted, the robot placed them inside the dock and left them there, suspended in the zero-g. The powerful grappling arms inside the dock extended under the control of the Shipcom. There was a shock of contact as the arms took hold of the lander, and they felt the vibration of the servo-motors through the hull. By comparison, the handling of the Fintil robot had been gentle. Even so, Karic was glad to be in the hands of technology they understood, and controlled.
Through the viewport, they watched as the docking bay doors closed on the void of space. He let out a slow breath, hardly realizing he had been holding it. “We’re back! God damn it! We made it.”
“Docking bay sealed,” came the voice of the Shipcom a few moments later. “Repressurizing docking bay.”
They waited in tense silence.
“Docking bay re-pressurized. Opening main hold doors,” reported the Shipcom.
The huge doors to central hold opened and the battered core section was drawn into the main holding bay by a second set of articulated arms, then locked into place. After a series of quick checks, they released the lander hatch. The seal broke with a hiss, and in came the familiar scents of the Starburst: plastic, steel and ozone.
By the time they reached the control room and activated the computers, the Fountain and the flying platform were gone.
CHAPTER 23
Karic sat in the commander’s chair, reassured by the feel of the solid metal arms.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
Mara was crying as she worked at her console. Andrai laid a hand on her back to comfort her in silence.
It was time for this to be over.
Free from the threat of radiation, the trip home should be straightforward. They had functioning stasis gear and a repaired ship. In less than a few days of personal time they would be back on Earth.
To accelerate from a standing start, the Starburst was designed to catch the energy from an anti-matter explosion on its magnetic sails. As it had done on leaving Earth, and on departure from Epsilon Eridani, the Starburst would fire an anti-gravity pellet at a small asteroid. The immense explosion of material would boost them up to relativistic speeds for the trip home. The fusion drive would continue to accelerate them, powering them through space to Earth.
Mara sniffed and cleared her throat. “The probe in orbit around Cru has given us data on a whole range of medium to small-sized asteroids in the vicinity. Many of them spiraling into Tau Ceti. Looks like the black hole has been disrupting the orbits of a lot of these small bodies.”
“Anything useful for us?”
“Yes,” said Mara. “I have already identified one that would be ideal for the anti-matter burst.”
“OK. Lay in a course for the object. Program the release of the anti-matter with the Shipcom and set a secondary course for Earth.”
It was a relief to be back in artificial gravity more akin to Earth’s and each of them realized the toll the heavy gravity had taken on their endurance. They were exhausted, yet elated and relieved. Against all hope they had escaped the planet and were back in the familiar confines of Starburst.
Andrai checked and double-checked every conceivable system, searching the craft from the forward antenna to the aft observation bubble for the slightest fault; anything that could spell disaster for them as they lay helpless in the grip of suspension. He found nothing. This pleased Karic, for only Ibri had known the ship better than Andrai. Meanwhile, Karic wired the suspension sets in the lander into the main systems so that they were under the control of the Shipcom.
Hours later, they were all back in the control room.
“OK. It’s time. Let’s get into suspension. I want us out of this system as soon as possible.
“Computer. Implement a three-person shift rotation including Karic, Mara, and Andrai. Janzen is not to be revived without my approval.” In normal rotation, shift crews of two were taken out of long-term stasis every twelve months for a week of “live time”, where they provided the key human oversight the Starburst needed. Solo watches were deemed too risky. With a “buddy system”, they were able to monitor each other and provide help in the case of unforeseen accidents. With only three of them on active duty, Karic had decided that all of them should be revived for each consecutive shift.
Karic looked up at the screens, staring for a long moment at the dark bulk of Cru, now only a small disk in the middle of the star field. “Wake us all just prior to the anti-matter assist maneuver.”
“Confirmed.”
A question gnawed at the back of Karic’s mind, but he pushed it away. He was exhausted and had no time for phantoms. The oblivion of suspension would be welcome.
“Put the consoles into sleep mode. Let’s go.” The holographic interfaces above each console vanished one-by-one, the projectors settling back into their niches.
Inside th
e lander, they maneuvered through the cabin to their jury-rigged suspension couches. The computer was programmed to wait until they were held immobile by the suspension fields — and their bodies were protected from any damage due to the massive acceleration — before it applied the full thrust of the fusion drive.
As the activation countdown proceeded, Karic looked across to Andrai and Mara, now side by side. Both had their eyes closed. Beside him was the still form of Janzen, his hands and face still patched with tape and bandages, his forlorn expression frozen in place. This was going to be an interesting homecoming.
***
They were roused by the Shipcom close to Tau Ceti. On the main deck, the blazing mass of the yellow-orange sun filled the screen.
“Shipcom, are all systems ready to commence the anti-matter assist?”
“Confirmed. Object targeted. Magnetic containment set to optimum configuration. Should I initiate countdown, Commander?”
This was it. The command that would take them home.
“Damn it to hell!” said Mara, slamming her hand down on her console. The floating icons of her console interface swirled crazily at the movement. A strand of dark hair came loose from her tightly woven bun and uncurled across her slender neck. She flicked it away angrily, her dark eyes fixed to her viewscreen. Andrai looked across at Karic, one blond eyebrow raised in a silent question.
Karic feared the worse. Was it some problem with the fusion drive? Or some crucial malfunction of the ship’s systems? No, please God! Not this close to escape.
“What is it?” asked Karic evenly.
Mara took a deep breath to steady herself.
“It’s that black hole. I know it’s there. There is no doubt. I know the exact location, it’s close by, very close. We even factored it into the orbital calculations for the target object.”
“But?”
Mara clenched her fists. “Not only has it moved since my last set of observations, there is still no sign of the gas ring! It doesn’t make sense. The damn thing should not even exist. It certainly should not be so close to Tau Ceti.”
Something crystallized in Karic’s thoughts. That’s what had been bothering him. The device he had seen in Utar’s mind! At the time, he had the sense that the Deepwatch had used the device to attack the Starburst, but had no idea what it was. Now he knew. The black hole was the device! He wracked his brains trying to remember the image he saw. A vast darkness, surrounded by huge supports. Impossible, surely, and yet …
“Have you tried looking for visible light?”
Mara looked back at him blankly. “Well, I have been concentrating on the typical spectra—”
“Try it. Redirect all the sensor arrays that track visible light. Look for it. You know where it is.”
Mara manipulated a series of glowing icons with short, deft movements. Then she batted the final icon up to the main screens, where it flared a brilliant yellow before fading into a grid. Moments later, the Shipcom started building the image.
“Oh, my God,” said Mara.
Andrai left his console and walked over to join them. His eyes, lost in wonder, never left the screen. Karic was filled with a wild elation. They had to reach Earth. People had to know about this.
With every second, the definition on the image grew clearer.
It was gigantic.
Huge curved beams, visible only as they reflected the intense light of Tau Ceti, enclosed an ovoid space.
“But I am getting nothing on the other sensors, Karic,” said Mara. “How can those materials be transparent to radiation and yet have structural integrity? I don’t understand it!”
Material with no mass?
Inside the superstructure was a core of darkness, the size of a small moon.
“Are you getting any radiation?” asked Karic.
“No, nothing,” said Mara. “It should be radiating huge amounts of energy.”
“Wait, there is something. Another field, between the main supports. It’s deflecting the solar wind.”
“What if it’s adsorbing the energy the black hole radiates?”
Mara shook her head and tried enhancing the image.
“There!”
“What is that?” said Andrai. “It looks like it’s spinning.”
“Trace amounts of gas. Probably trapped inside the superstructure. Spinning with the kernel.”
Watching the gas, they could see that the dark core of the device was trying to shift its position, but was held confined.
“The field must be using its charge to contain it,” said Mara. “But that does not explain how the black hole maintains itself. It would need to take on mass, just to stay intact.”
Karic’s mind lit up.
“You said it had changed position, didn’t you?” said Karic.
“Yes,” said Mara, chewing her lip.
“Well, what if it operated on a cycle? It moves in, close to Tau Ceti, the field opens to allow it to drag in enough gas to restore the mass it lost in radiation, then it closes.”
“While maintaining the field that manipulates its charge to keep it in position,” added Andrai.
“Yes,” said Karic.
Mara’s jaw dropped. “That would create a regular surge of radiation!”
“Just like what hit the ship,” said Karic.
“So, if you had access to the device, you could alter the period of the cycle, and adjust the orbit and timing so the surge hit a specific location,” said Andrai.
“Like the approach vector of Starburst,” said Mara.
They were silent for a long moment, staring up at the silent bulk of the Fintil device.
“But that’s impossible,” said Mara, frowning. “How could Utar have used one of the most advanced devices of the Fintil?”
“How indeed,” said Karic. His mind swept back to his first mental contact with Utar. After seeing the device in Utar’s mind, Karic had seen other images: a confusion of colors, geometrical shapes and readings. What if the device was controlled mentally? Could Utar have somehow stumbled across it? It seemed impossible. The power of his mind would have to have been immense to reach across such as distance.
“Let’s just be thankful that it has no gas ring now,” said Karic.
“Look!”
The black heart of the device opened, yawning out like a funnel to fill the space between its massive supports. A sleek silver spacecraft, glistening gold in the light of Tau Ceti, shot out from the heart of the device at a tremendous speed. A moment later, the opening vanished.
That elegant silver ship was a Fintil spacecraft!
“Track the vector,” shouted Karic.
Mara worked furiously.
“It’s moving at over 0.8C, heading directly for Cru.”
Eighty percent of the speed of light! Karic’s heart raced.
“Of course,” said Mara. “It’s a wormhole gateway!”
Karic was lost for words, unnerved by yet another demonstration of the Fintil’s ancient, yet advanced technology.
“What do we do?” said Andrai, watching the spacecraft as it disappeared from their screens.
“We go home,” said Karic. “Shipcom. Initiate anti-matter assist.”
“Confirmed.”
“Come on,” said Karic. “Into suspension.”
Karic’s voice shook as he gave the final commands to shut down the command deck.
***
As soon as they were roused from suspension, they hurried back to the control room. When the interface was back up, Karic addressed the Shipcom directly.
“Are we still at maximum thrust? Are all shields and systems operating within safety parameters?”
“Yes, Commander,” replied the Shipcom. “The Starburst is traveling at nineteen percent of light-speed and still accelerating. Destination: Earth.”
They cheered, dancing around the ship in a group of three, the voice of the Shipcom hardly audible over their shouts of glee. “All operations are within normal parameters. The fusion drive is
operating at peak efficiency.”
Finally, they settled back to their stations.
“Maybe it’s time we broke into Janzen’s private stores,” said Andrai.
Karic laughed and tried to focus. He turned to Andrai. “Anything else?”
“Nothing, Commander. No anomalous readings or power fluctuations.”
Karic deactivated his console and rose to his feet.
“That’s it then.”
Karic smiled. The Starburst had taken them to the stars and was on its way home. Now there was nothing to stop them from reaching Earth.
He felt a moment of pride. The suspension technology was the breakthrough that allowed them to traverse the stars in their own lifetime. How passionately he had believed, in those early days, of the destiny of mankind — a destiny which would take them to the stars. Despite their contact with the hostile Imbirri and the aloof Fintil, he felt that passion more than ever.
The stars and life awaited them. He would not let the warnings of some tired outpost of a regressive spacefaring culture stop him.
“Well, I’m not wasting another moment,” said Andrai, leaving the main control room for the central hold and the suspension equipment hardwired into the lander’s battered core section.
“We made it, Karic. Thanks to you.” Mara’s voice was soft and low. “I need to talk to you.”
“OK. I need to check the data storage one last time. Come with me to the commander’s cabin.”
Feeling no need for words, they made their way to the commander’s cabin in silent companionship. The months they had slept through had given them no time to deal with the shock and loss they had experienced, and their ordeal was still fresh in their minds. Each of them was keenly aware of the empty chairs around them on the command deck. Thirty-three dead, their frozen and desiccated remains stored in the airless heart of the ship, Ibri left unmourned and unburied in the jungles of Cru. Memories of the outward journey plagued Karic. A hopeful, exciting time, when all thirty-eight crew nestled securely within the shell of Earth’s best technology, feeling a deep solidarity that only absence would reveal. They were gone, lost like vapor to the void of space.
The Tau Ceti Diversion Page 35