by Chris Reher
“Filament acquired,” Jex reported to the others.
“Let’s see it,” Ryle said, as always speaking aloud to the AI for the benefit of his crew. “On screen.”
The others swiveled their chairs to face the main display. An overlay of darker markings appeared on the panorama to show nearby filaments. From here, they saw just four of the threads streaming into the distance, the nearest one marked in blue, looking much like the Hub’s representation on any map.
“Thread is solid,” Azah reported. “No murk at all. Emitters are live.”
“Let’s have us a nice, tight bubble, Jex.” Ryle raised his hand into an overhead sensor sweep to engage the helm. His neural interface with Jex would navigate the Nefer along the filament, relaying his commands instantly to the ship’s avionics. Laryn had faith in his proven record as navigator, but she was glad for the extra levels of redundant safety protocols monitored by Jex in the background. Azah gestured for Iko to step into a brace at the rear of the bridge.
“Approaching vessel, please respond,” Laryn tried again, wriggling into her own restraints.
“That better not be Colsan’s tub jumping our claim,” Azah said. “I’ll singe his ears if he tries.”
“It is an older corvette,” Jex said, for Laryn’s ears only. His work on her communications did not distract from his focus on their imminent merger into the filament. “Heavily modified. It does not belong to any local fleet.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is not registered by any of the private companies, nor owned by Pendra.”
“That can’t be,” she said. All smallcraft using the Hub, needing supplies, fuels, and contact with Earth, were registered with the station. “Request an ID from Pendra. Maybe it’s new.”
“Done, Agent Ash. Transmitting now.”
“Ready for launch.” Ryle looked up at a screen showing their patrons’ target coordinates. “Exit at point four two two kilo-secs. Jex, try to hit that correctly this time, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind, Ryle.”
A display at the top of the panoramic screen showed that, in the rear of the ship, Nolan and Toji stood ready. The engines thrummed, following their routines to power up the field generators. Laryn felt a new, slightly queasy shift when the gravity rods began to adjust for the pull of the stream.
“The ship is still approaching, Ryle,” Jex said. “Do you wish to include them in our shield field?”
“No,” Ryle said, sounding irked. “Laryn, tell them to stay back. We don’t need company on this trip.”
“On it.” She relayed his message, barely above a murmur. It was possible to extend a transit bubble to protect several ships, but these things took close cooperation and, usually, a transfer of payment to the ship doing all the work. “Do not approach these coordinates,” she sent. “This is a private expedition and we will not extend our shields.”
“What do they want?” Azah said.
“I don’t know,” Laryn said. “They’re not responding to hail.” New information appeared in front of her. “They’re going to fire!”
“What?”
“That’s confirmed,” Jex said, unruffled. “We are targeted.”
Azah called up the tactical controls above her station. “Not for long,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Hold your fire,” Ryle snapped, reading the display of the other ship’s tactical arrangement now on the main screen. “I’m not engaging within sight of Pendra. We’re going.”
A warning strip below the ceiling turned red. “A plasma hit,” Jex confirmed. “They are attempting to dissipate our field.”
“Patch it. Let’s go.” Ryle’s hands moved through the hologram before him to direct the ship in an evasive sweep toward the filament.
“They’ll just follow us,” Azah objected.
Another hit into their field bubble registered on the overhead indicator.
“Then you better be ready,” Ryle said. “Launch, Jex.”
Laryn grasped the supports of her bench and ground her teeth as the ship, encased in its field, slipped into the stream and hurtled toward their destination, incapable of stopping now, deaf to course corrections beyond this point. They’d either find their target or, if the filament dispersed too soon, they’d emerge elsewhere. ‘Elsewhere’ was usually empty space from which they limped home again, defeated and poorer. Also possible was that they’d end up torn apart by some encountered object, annihilated by radiation, or caught in the clutches of insurmountable gravity. Or, if the filament murked out, unable to re-enter at all. That was the tricky, somewhat suicidal, part that made a successful outbound expedition so very profitable.
The others, too, remained silent and tense during the minutes that clocked by, eyes locked on the viewscreen that had no option but to show their last location, and acutely aware that the shimmy they all felt now meant that the bubble that kept them from disintegrating into their individual molecules had suffered from the attack.
“You seem stressed,” Jex observed as he monitored their state of health.
“Is that so?” Ryle hissed through clenched teeth.
“Yes. Laryn needs to reduce her heart rate.”
Laryn did not reply.
“Would you like some music?”
“Shut up, Jex!” Azah snapped.
“Target range now,” Ryle announced. The indicator from engineering glowed an assuring green. “Dropping!”
Jex disengaged the Nefer from the filament to drop into normal space where it seemed to skid to an abrupt and unpleasant halt. The ship shuddered, forcing a gasp from Laryn and a strangled grunt from Iko.
A deep silence descended as the crew recovered from the assault their senses had taken these past few minutes. The external cameras now showed a region so densely packed with drifting dust and mineral debris that only a few stars winked at them through the haze. Laryn inhaled deeply when Jex confirmed that the ship and her passengers had made the transit without damage.
“I wonder who that was back there,” Azah said. “We haven’t done anything lately to invite that kind of trouble.”
“What the hell is so important about this place?” Nolan said over the sound system from his station in engineering.
Ryle turned to look at Iko, who still gripped the restraints of his crash brace as if expecting it to come apart at any moment. “I wonder, too.”
“A ship is leaving the filament,” Jex announced.
Ryle looked up at the screen where the AI now displayed the unmistakable shape of a transit field forming. “Nolan, we’re going defensive. I’m not having this.” He took the helm from Jex. “Azah, let them make the first move.”
“Captain,” Iko said. “I don’t think you understand—”
“Silence,” Azah said in the same tone she had used to silence Jex. The forward screen now showed an overlay of their targeting grid.
“Wait till they dissipate their bubble,” Ryle said. “No need to waste energy till we find out what our levels are after that leap.”
“Would you like a report?” Jex said.
“No, Jex. Scan that ship for something we can hit, will you?”
The enemy ship burst into visible range and swooped toward them. Ryle raced away, putting more of the sensor-confusing debris between them and their pursuers. Laryn tried to hail them once more, already sure that no one would reply.
“We are targeted,” Jex said.
The annoyingly red warning strip above the screen showed two hits absorbed by the Nefer’s shields. It would not be long before they’d feel those hits closer to their hull.
“Now?” Azah shouted.
“At will,” Ryle said.
She returned the enemy ship’s fire, placing a pattern of plasma charges designed to disrupt their protective shielding. “That bitch is coming down,” she muttered through clenched teeth.
Laryn’s eyes shifted to Azah’s board. Tactical anything wasn’t her specialty, but clearly, Jex was involved in th
e maneuver. That was a Human-made ship ahead of them, even if long thought lost. Why was he assisting in its destruction? Regardless of who was aboard that ship, its designation should have stopped him, if not Azah.
Ryle directed the Nefer to evade the missiles heading their way, rotating to avoid catching them in the same place. Receivers worked to convert incoming fire into useful energy but the hits landed far too rapidly. “Give us some weak spots, Jex!”
“Ryle!” Nolan’s voice reached them. “I’ve got specs on that cutter. Target the lower port section, astern of the docking grips.”
All eyes fixed upon the image of the enemy ship as Azah continued to stitch along its side, weakening their defenses with every hit. “Got it!” she shouted and whooped in triumph.
Ryle released a barrage of projectiles before their opponents realized where they were heading. The ship turned, too slow to protect its vulnerable flank, and then they all saw it cave in as the first successful hit tore into it. Several more followed and then the cruiser began to crumble, splitting and spilling its contents into space. Ryle backed off, less worried about shrapnel hitting them than the thought of body parts caught in their gravity well.
“Nice!” Azah grinned as she disengaged their guns.
“Sheeet,” Nolan said in a long exhalation, awestruck.
“Your weapons system,” Iko said, now oddly calm, “appears to have been modified well beyond specifications for this class.”
“Lucky for you,” Ryle said. “What’s out here that’s so valuable?” Something about Laryn’s expression seemed to worry him and he leaned over to put a hand on her arm. “Are you all right? You’re a bit green.”
“I’m fine,” she said at once, certain that, if not for Azah’s smirk, she’d allow herself to faint or throw up or something. “It all went so fast. I know things out here can get… hostile sometimes.” She smoothed her hair with a few nervous flicks of her hand, mostly to avoid Ryle’s scrutiny. It had been a long time since she had feared for her life at the hands of another being. Space travel did not frighten her, neither did aliens nor living aboard a poorly maintained outpost station, far from anyone she could call friend or family. But this deliberate attack reminded her far too well of the reasons she had fled Earth, and had rattled her. “I need to report this to Pendra.”
“Of course,” he said. His hand lingered for a moment more – perhaps he looked for some words to reassure her.
“Like they care what happens out here,” Azah said.
“Ryle, I have found information among the debris from that ship,” Jex said, interrupting as always when his own news seemed more important than what was going on among the crew. “It is listed in my archive as the outbounder Hypso. Pendra declared it lost in 22-29, almost ten years ago.”
“Lost?” Laryn said. “That wasn’t a ghost ship. You can’t keep a crew alive for ten years without coming by the station at least once in a while.”
Laryn watched Ryle swivel his chair to exchange a long, undoubtedly meaningful, look with Azah. Perhaps they were using Jex for an unheard conversation, using the pickups in Ryle’s throat. She thought she saw Azah nod almost imperceptibly.
Ryle turned back to the forward screens. “We’ll report the incident later. Let’s take a peek at where we’ve landed, Jex.”
Some of the screens edging the main display began to relay information in text and images. “Our scanners cannot penetrate far,” Jex said, “but the probes are getting through. We’ve emerged within a small solar system. Two planets orbiting a red dwarf, several moons.”
A slow grin spread over Azah’s face. “I think we found something.”
“What?”
She pointed at the display in front of her station. “Sensor readings are messy. There’s a whole lot of interference out there. But we’re detecting water. Liquid. Lots of it. On the second planet.” She transferred the incoming data from the probes to the main screen. “And where there’s water, there’s life.”
Laryn scanned the overhead monitors. This did indeed look promising. “Could be habitable,” she said. “The planet’s tidally locked to that star but it’s got a massive biosphere along the terminator. Big islands, wouldn’t call them continents. Geology too active for my liking.”
“Those plates are moving?”
“Yes,” Azah confirmed, working with the data on a smaller screen before her. “Looks like plenty of volcanic activity.”
The door to the bridge slid aside to admit Nolan and Toji. “Am I seeing that right?” Nolan said, walking up to the wall of screens before them. He stretched his arms out to the image of the planet. “Are we rich beyond our wildest dreams?”
“Move over, you,” Azah said. “Look. We’ve got nitrogen/oxygen.”
Laryn watched Iko, wishing she had more experience with the species. Was that a smug expression on the Kalon’s face? “Looks like you might be right about this place, Iko. If the Harla expedition made it here, they could still be alive.”
“Pressure along the coast is 85 kPA,” Azah said. “This planet is more like home than even Terrica is. Does this seem like quite the fortunate coincidence, or am I being cynical?”
“I was just thinking that,” Ryle said, turning to the elder Kalon. “How did you hear about this place, Iko?”
“We learned of it from an explorer. They decided to forgo the journey here.”
“Why’s that?” Azah said. “Nobody turns away from a habitable planet.”
“Perhaps we should,” Jex cut in. “I’m detecting echolocation scans from the surface.”
“What?” Ryle turned to the screen to see an overlay of Jex’s findings.
“Radar,” Jex specified. “But intermittent. Scattered.”
Ryle returned to his station. “The Harla maybe? Can you parse that out, Jex?” He frowned when he saw the data on the screen. “That’s no ship. The second planet is inhabited. They have sensors.”
“You’re right,” Nolan said. “Power sources on the southern hemisphere. Weak. No satellites, no air traffic. But they seem to have scanners in operation.”
“Going dark,” Ryle said, already directing the Nefer to shutter all but the most vital systems, douse exterior lights, and cover the few cabin portholes in the hull. He switched the shielding to scatter and confuse all but the most sophisticated sensors, turning the ship invisible to conventional radar. “Let’s back off.”
“There is a moon. Synchronous orbit.”
“I see it.” Ryle turned the Nefer toward the small satellite, keeping sensors alert to the sweeps of the terrestrial scanners. The ground radar seemed haphazard, merely stabs into the dark from one of the island continents. He evaded them easily and they soon approached the moon. “Jex, launch a set of dark probes to the planet to find out where that’s coming from. Look for evidence of the Harla. We’ve got her specs in the archives.”
“This could be First Contact,” Laryn reminded them. The possibility that they were nearing a planet whose residents had what seemed to be sophisticated technology sent a tingle of excitement up along her spine. This is what she had trained for, never even imagining that it would actually happen.
Ryle took the Nefer down toward the moon’s dun-colored surface out of view of the planet. “I don’t think they caught us,” he said. “Jex, can you confirm that?”
“I don’t believe they did.”
Iko looked up at the ceiling. “Your computer has beliefs?” he said, sounding amused.
Ryle leaned forward to peer at a video screen when its markers drew his attention to an irregular cluster of something on the arid surface of the moon. “What’s that? Someone’s up here?”
“Doesn’t look natural,” Nolan said.
The Nefer swooped low over a fissured basin featuring little but dust and rocks. The odd readings on the screen resolved in greater detail, showing a scattering of gray structures among debris flung up long ago by a meteor strike.
“I guess we’re not the first ones hiding up here,” Nolan sa
id. “That’s a ship. Big. Some kind of transport.”
“Jex?” Ryle said, circling low above the grounded vessel to give the ship’s cameras a view from all angles.
“Scanning for markers,” Jex said.
The image panned across a screen to reveal deep-set portholes, sensor arrays, and several docks onto which smaller vessels might latch. If it had any significant weapons systems, none were in evidence.
“It is the Harla,” Jex confirmed, showing an archive image of the lost ship next to the downed hull on the surface of the moon. “Largely intact. Congratulations,” he added, aware of the long search for the missing ship and the attempts made to find it.
“I’d say this is the easiest coin we’ve ever turned,” Ryle said. He lowered the Nefer to settle not far from the grounded vessel and began a partial shut-down of its systems. The gravity rods slowed until they felt the moon’s own, somewhat light, gravity take over.
Laryn studied Iko while Jex reported on the environment outside. The Kalon did not seem especially surprised or excited by the find. His eyes were fixed on the incoming data from the planet’s surface. She used the key panel on her display to send a silent question to Jex. Of course, as part of the ship’s synergic network, he conveyed her inquiry to Ryle who frowned at her, puzzled.
Jex, what is Iko looking for? Laryn wrote.
The response on her screen was immediate. His eyes are focused on reports of possible sentient populations. The probes have found evidence of settlements near the location of the ground-based scanners.
She turned to watch Ryle respond to her comment about Iko. Only a few twitches of the muscles of his throat and jaw betrayed that he was using his subvocal abilities to speak with Jex, unheard by the others.
Tell Laryn I don’t think he came out here to look for the Harla, Laryn read on her display when Jex translated Ryle’s words for her. This was too easy. And we’re not that lucky.
She nodded although being attacked by a long-lost ship on their way out here was not her understanding of ‘easy’. The Nefer had embarked on recovery missions before and even the most successful among them seldom yielded more than a broken hull, barely worth the salvage to cover their costs. Sometimes, like when they had tracked down a crashed outbounder vessel in the icy regions of Kila a while ago, they were able to retrieve the bodies of those lost in the mishap and so give some comfort to people they left behind. Worth the effort, but not profitable, Laryn knew. To find the Harla here, with a possibility that the crew might have made it to the surface, seemed too much to hope for.