Black Swan Planet

by James Peters

  “If everything were to Empire specs, the oxygen generators could keep up for years. Water recycling could do the same, and the food dispensers have extended capacity on this ship. That is if everything was up to spec.”

  Maven’s eyes turned toward one of the display panels.

  “Something tells me that we’re not at spec. What is it?”

  “Air pressure. Actually, the pressure is self-regulated, but the oxygen generator is running beyond its design. That means we have a leak.”

  “A leak? I’m guessing at the patched section.”

  “Probably, but I can’t be certain. I suppose we could shut down everything and do a smoke test, but even our breathing and motions would affect the results. I don’t have the equipment to do a proper test.”

  “Maven, does it really matter? Could we fix it from inside the shuttle with the tools we have? Even if we do, do you want to stay on this shuttle for years at a time, waiting on the drive to spool up? I don’t.”

  “You’re right. We have to pick a destination and go there,” Maven said.

  “We only have one destination that we can get to and that’s Earth. And there’s one place we really shouldn’t go to and that’s also Earth. We can’t lead the Empire there.” Gina is there if she’s still alive. I desperately want to go back there, but I can’t.

  “Raka, the Empire is on its way, regardless of what we do at this point. How long it takes them to find Earth is a question I can’t answer. But we can’t do any more good out here, and if we go back, we may be able to help in some way. Maybe we could intercept the retrieval ship? Take it out before it gets to Earth?”

  “With what? Spitballs and good intentions?”

  Maven grimaced. “How about a shuttle? If we’re going to die anyway, let’s do it epically. I’ll ram this shuttle down their throats.”

  “Wow. I hadn’t thought of that. It would end a lot of trouble, wouldn’t it? But we aren’t the only ones to make that decision. Nicholai and Marco should have a say in this.”

  “If they don’t like it, the shuttle is equipped with two caskets.”

  “You’d kill them if they didn’t agree to die in a kamikaze attack? Do you understand how crazy that sounds?!”

  “Raka, I’m not talking about that kind of casket. I’m talking about personal escape pods. They are called caskets because they are the size of a casket and hold one person, in cryogenic stasis. Marco and Nicholai could climb inside a casket and be shot toward Earth. The casket is designed to survive a crash landing, directly into granite. Once it’s landed, the system automatically thaws out the occupant.”

  “So we tell them to die with us or become astronaut pops? I don’t know if that’s a fair request, Maven.”

  “Fair isn’t the question. We have run out of options.”

  “We should talk to them about this. Hell, Marco may have a better plan than we do. Meantime, should we launch the remaining probes from here before we jump? Would that buy us some time?”

  Maven breathed a dejected sigh. “It might, but it seems like a waste to launch them all. Why don’t we launch a few, perhaps five more, in random directions? When they see those signals, they should investigate them all. Might buy us a few days or weeks. Why don’t you round up Marco and Nicholai for a meeting?”

  It only took me a minute to find the pair as they had reverted back to their old habits. Marco took a hefty toke off of a wizard-shaped bong while Nicholai chopped with a razor blade with incredible precision at a dark brown crystal I couldn’t identify. Fucking stoners.

  “Listen up you two, this is important!” I yelled.

  Marco shrugged at me and made a gesture that I took to mean ‘blow it out your ass’, complete with pantomimed trumpet and an accompanying raspberry sound.

  “I’m serious. Put down the bong and pay attention. We all need to talk. We need to make a decision, and you two have to make a choice. Meet Maven and me in the cockpit in five minutes. And pick up this mess.” I walked away to hear another raspberry, then intense snickering. “Five minutes!”

  ***

  “…So, that’s our situation.” I said, after a lengthy and often repetitive discussion. We have little choice. Maven and I have made our minds up; we’re going back to Earth and we’re going to try to protect them. You two have the option of staying with us, or we can send you back to Earth in caskets.”

  Despite my best attempts, that last bit sounded like a threat. “You know, personal transport caskets.”

  Nicholai shook his head as if trying to drive away a buzzing fly. “We know what-choo talking ‘bout. What-choo thinkin’, Monkey-mon?”

  Marco stroked his chimp-chin for a moment in deep thought, then started a frantic pantomime that I couldn’t follow. I recognized his symbol for Gina ; a heart, and three fingers in the air and him waving off that notion. Then he counted up to seven and emphasized the number.

  “Seven? What about seven?” I said.

  Marco rolled his eyes at me, held up three fingers, then made a heart shape: his sign for Gina.

  I rubbed my brow. “There’s only one Gina, Marco. You’re stoned.”

  Marco chattered at me and ran off.

  “Fine, don’t let us know if you’re with us or not. Stupid monkey.”

  I heard a raspberry in the distance, then rustling and clanging of tools and equipment. Marco came back with an earth pencil. He started to draw on the wall. “What is wrong with you?” I said, reaching for the pencil.

  Maven reached for my hand. “Let him. This looks important.”

  I watched the chimp start with a big circle. “Fine. He’ll probably draw something obscene. Boobs or balls, I bet. Just wait.”

  Marco continues to draw on the wall; a series of circles, all in a line. The third circle after the largest had been marked with a heart and three lines, then he drew an arrow to the seventh circle. Near the seventh circle, he drew a dot and pointed repeatedly to it.

  “Wait. I know what this is,” I said. “This big circle is a star, and the third is Earth. Marco is telling us we shouldn’t go to Earth, but to the seventh planet. Why the seventh planet?”

  Marco gestured furiously. His hands flew, varied from mimicking a giant ape to playing violin. The concepts just did not translate. I knew one thing: he really wanted us to go to the seventh planet.

  “I’ve known Marco for some time,” Maven said, “He’s never led me wrong. He must have a reason for us to go to planet number seven in the Sol system. I think we need to see what’s there.”

  “Do you think the Empire has something there?” I said. “If so, how would Marco know?”

  “I don’t know the answer to either question, Raka. Let’s find out.”

  Chapter 33

  They Went That-a-way

  ESS Dissolute Ultralog-Complete™ Log, recorded in accordance with the Patriotic Love for the Empire and Freedom of Monitoring Act. Released under Imperial Order #C53TH341

  Denton Morrow cursed as the Dissolute neared enough to get a complete scan of a probe. “What the hell? Just another probe? I’m getting damn tired of chasing down these stupid things.”

  Natastia Briggam stared down her nose at him. “You’re being played, Morrow.”

  “I know that. But standard procedures require that I check each signal before we expand the search. We have two more before we move on.”

  “This mission does not call for standard procedures. You and I both know that those other two signals are going to be probes, just like the ones we’ve already found. Look at the pattern. This was an attempt to draw us away from the real target. A red herring.”

  “I hate fish. But at this point, I’d take fish over beans,” Denton Morrow said. “So, we know that somebody was here, recently, presumably in the Emperor’s shuttle. We know that the shuttle has limited jump capacity and they are trying to keep us away from something. The question is, where did they go from here?”

  “That’s up to you to figure out. This is barbarian territory; unchartered,
wild. There are no maps of likely attractions. You need to figure out where they went.”

  “With no breadcrumbs to follow, no trail to track, and no wake to lead to a ship. It’s complete guesswork to figure out which way they went.”

  “Is it?”

  “If it isn’t guesswork, I only know of one person that can tell us the best odds of where they went,” Denton said, stroking his chin as he approached a communications panel, pressing a button to select his main team, and announcing: “Meeting in ten minutes at the navigation room.”

  ***

  Perry Tremblan arrived first, followed by Dr. Mitch Sorren, Natastia Briggam, Mr. Smiles, and Magnus Aldis.

  “Lady and Gentlemen, we have a task to perform that may seem impossible. Each of us has skills and abilities that, combined together, may just make it feasible.”

  As he talked, Magnus made a wanking motion behind Denton Morrow’s back. Mr. Smiles laughed until Natastia Briggam sent him a scolded look. The gorilla straightened up, backhanding Magus across the upper arm.

  Denton paused. “As I was saying, we know the shuttle carrying the traitors was here, and recently so. We need to determine where they went.”

  Magnus grunted. “Impossible. They could have gone anywhere. Unless you have their signal, you’re hosed.”

  “It’s not truly impossible,” Perry Tremblan said. “Improbably, yes. I’d say our odds—”

  “I thought you might be able to help us,” Denton said. “It seems to me that we should start with the maximum range on that shuttle. Can we calculate that?”

  “Theoretically, there is no maximum range. The longer the drive is engaged, combined with the apparent motion of the shuttle, calculated on a relativistic scale—”

  “I understand, Mr. Tremblan. Assuming you were on that shuttle and had a desire to live through the jump, what would you consider the maximum range would be?”

  “I have an expectation of an unusually high safety factor, per a previous conversation we had. I’d jump no further than thirty light-years in a single event. Most people would consider ninety to a hundred and twenty as an acceptable risk…”

  “One twenty it is. Plug that into your navi-thingy, centered at this location. Let’s see what that looks like.” A sphere displayed in holographic detail. “So this is our search area. What can our scanners cover?”

  Magnus Aldis snarled. “Stupid question. Scanners are limited to light-speed. If you want to scan a sphere of one twenty light-years, figure on two forty years to get your signal back.”

  Perry said, “It’s actually worse than that. We could scan a single vector and get the information back in two forty years. Trying to find a particular object, the size of a shuttle, would require a focused beam and a search program that would take years to initiate properly—”

  “Understood,” Denton said. “We don’t have two hundred and forty years or even one. Assuming they wanted to survive the jump, they’d avoid vectors that would take them too close to a star, wouldn’t they?”

  “Yes. There are some vectors that we could eliminate because they’d be certain death.”

  Perry worked the virtual controls until the sphere showed several conical areas illuminated in red, one noticeably larger than the rest. As Denton pointed to that vector, Perry explained. “Black hole. Nobody would jump anywhere near that. This one…” He pointed to another large area. “Neutron star. The small slivers are individual stars. Well, actually the star itself would not be noticeable, but the death zone around it would be. Individual planets are irrelevant at this scale.”

  “So we’ve knocked out a few vectors. What else can we eliminate?” Denton said.

  “While we’ve been talking, I ran some calculations. Over ninety percent of jumps are done in the forty to ninety light year range. If we assume that, our target looks like this.”

  Perry manipulated the controls until a defined band appeared in the holographic display. “I’m also extrapolating data to identify systems that might support carbon life.”

  Green splotches cropped up as potential targets.

  “Good. That’s getting us somewhere. Any other ideas?”

  “Have we searched for traces of cesium?” Mitch Said. “Would that get us anywhere?”

  “The drive doesn’t need cesium for a jump,” Magnus said. “Didn’t they teach you anything in that doctor school?”

  “Yes, it creates a time-space bubble around the ship to pause time for the occupants. But the ship has to be lined up and pointed in the proper direction and in motion, doesn’t it?”

  Magnus grunted. “We’re not looking for cesium, dumbass. Positioning jets are ionic. Looking for cesium is moronic, ha.”

  “Would our sensors be able to detect evidence of ionic positioning?” Denton Morrow said as he gestured tow hands upward toward the doctor a motion that meant ‘don’t get offended, he’s just a jerk’.

  Perry Tremblan adjusted the display. “Our sensors should be able to detect traces of ionic thrust. It’s barely detectable over background levels. Let’s see what the data shows us.”

  Wisps appeared in the holographic image.

  “Does that tell us anything?” Denton Morrow said. “Looks random to me.”

  “This is anything but random. Look at this distribution.” He pointed to one of the wisps, barely visible. “Perhaps if I applied a condensation filter, it might be more recognizable.”

  The statistician worked his magic, and the display changed again. “Now do you see it?”

  “That looks like a positioning burn! And another opposite, but smaller. Do you think the smaller ones are older?”

  “Just the opposite. Most pilots will start with a rough burn to point in the general direction, then small controlled burns to perfect the orientation. These small burns are just that, minor vector fixes.”

  “Excellent work, Mr. Tremblan. Considering those adjustments, what would you propose was their vector?”

  “All I can do is give you an approximation.” A conical corridor appeared in the display as he talked. “Based on what we’re seeing, I’d say with a—”

  Denton Morrow put his hands on his hips. “Do not tell me the percentage. Just show me where you think they went.”

  “They went that-away, Cap’n,” Perry Tremblan said his motions exaggerated and mocking. “And along this corridor, the most likely destination is this system, thirty-two light years from our current location. Un-named. Nothing interesting about it, but the star is of reasonable size to support a habitable zone.”

  “Can you predict their speed? Is there any way we can catch them?”

  “There speed would be a factor of the cesium burn. Considering how little I’m seeing, I’d estimate they are traveling between S-two and S-four.”

  “What are we capable of, Mr. Tremblan?”

  “S-ten is within safety parameters.”

  “So assuming they are traveling at S-two and we are traveling at S-ten…”

  “That’s the trick of the Chronos Drive. To people within the field, it seems like an instantaneous transition from one point in space to another. But outside of the field, time passes normally, so speed entering the field determines how much standard time passes.”

  Denton raised one eye, then one finger, asking, “What does this mean?”

  . “Theoretically, we could get to their destination before they do.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a surprise for them. Make it so, team.”

  Chapter 34

  The Winds of Uranus

  I had learned that no matter where I hid or what I tried, Marco would vomit on me at every jump. In preparation, I would just lock myself into the Head and be showering when the jump took place. If he somehow managed to sneak in, I’d be prepared to wash off the vile matter. If not, at least I’d be clean and fresh after the jump. As I lathered up, a strange tingling sensation ran through my body that I recognized without a doubt: we had made the jump. I looked at the shower floor. Nothing but nice, clean suds and water, no
t a speck of simian vomit. I checked my hair and hands. All clean. I smiled. I had finally outsmarted the chimpanzee. Sure, we’d all likely die and everything had turned to complete shit, but today I hadn’t gotten barfed on, so today counts as a good day. One minor victory for me.

  I spent more time shaving and primping than I had in weeks, probably due to being back in the Sol system, and even though she was millions of miles away, I knew Gina waited there on Earth. Poor Gina. She’s innocent in all of this and I’ve been gone a very long time. How long exactly would be hard to calculate. I could count time from my point of view and come up with a number of days, weeks, and months. But each jump complicates things. This is generally not an issue until you return from a long trip and you’ve aged a year while everyone else had aged three. But people age slowly and change is negligible in the Empire, so the effects are minimal. But not for Gina, back on primitive Earth. She probably thinks I’ve forgotten about her, abandoned her for some big adventure. That is if she isn’t horribly sick or even…If only she could know that I’d do anything for her. She’ll never know and will likely die cursing my name. Why is this universe so damned cruel? One good thing happens to me in my entire lifetime and it’s taken away like this. I looked at myself in the mirror. Tired, angry, old, and bitter. I knew I’d never see her again. I failed her, Earth, and everything. To die out here in space would be a relief.”

  I stepped out of the head and immediately found myself flailing against a loss of control of my body. Had the shuttle been hit? Did something happen to the artificial gravity? Were we crashing?

  As my body smacked against the shuttle’s hard metal floor I recognized a smell and my stunned brain pieced together what had happened. I had stepped in a slippery pile of monkey puke, lost my footing and fell face first in it. “Goatless mother of a whore father stupid fucking monkey brainless chimp!” I heard Maven’s voice through the intercom. “When you’re done with the poetry, you should come to the cockpit. We have a situation up here. Marco’s going nuts.”