by A J Marshall
Thomas informed Richard that he had an eighty per cent residual charge and Richard used his chronometer’s satellite navigation feature to calculate that he was making an impressive ten knots using long, powerful strokes; even so, at 18.52 kilometres per hour, the journey would take more than three hours.
Richard assumed that the submarine’s commander would inform the British Admiralty of their missed opportunity and formulated an abrive to Chris Quarrie on his telephonic pager, informing him of the delay. If they were lucky they would make Jizan by midday Local Time and the Alhazoun Airforce Base was another two or three hours’ drive from there. With a following wind they might be on their way to London by 3PM. That was more than eleven hours from now. Peter Rothschild would be furious and so would the Lunar Senate, Richard thought. Then, to add to his woes, there was no signal, not this far out in the Red Sea. He would have to wait and so would Naomi and Asharf.
Richard’s ill-humour at Thomas’ misdemeanour grew like a black cloud as he bailed water from the capsule and, as he urged his accomplice to bigger efforts, his temper was barely contained.
Thomas deactivated the plasmoltec expression intensifier and rowed with a blank, dark, flat, face screen through the night.
CHAPTER 22
Closer to Home
Moon Base Andromeda – 2 January
06:57 Lunar Corrected Time
“It’s a garbled message, sir. Almost completely unintelligible . . . I can’t make it out . . . something about insects . . . ants! . . . Yes, I know it sounds ridiculous, sir, out there, as well, but that’s what he said. I’ve replayed it several times. Carey agrees with me – he definitely said ants . . . Okay, I’ll be expecting you.”
Herbie Smith put the telephone down and looked up at the group of operational personnel who encircled his console. His expression darkened with anxiety. “Give me the Freight Control Centre any day. Man, there’s too much pressure here.” He looked down at his screen and then up again at his colleagues. “He’s coming over, and Dimitri, too; you had better get back to your posts and be ready with the UAV information.”
Moments later Security Officer Dimitri Nurevski walked in to the Operations Room. He made a beeline for Herbie Smith, an Afro-American from Louisiana. Nurevski looked infuriated. No one got on the wrong side of the Security Officer, not when he had that dark Russian melancholy look. The operatives at the consoles surrounding Herbie buried their heads in their work.
“What the hell is this all about, Herbie . . . ? Ants! I mean we get the occasional cockroach here and there in the accommodation flats and maybe a honey bee escapes from the biodomes from time to time, but ants?”
“You had better listen to this Dimitri,” responded Herbie, having already prepared the playback. “Our most northern sensor outpost, LS17, in the shadow lands just a few Ks from the pole. It’s Jean Fontana and Ralf Biddle – although you couldn’t tell from their voices. Message came through at 06:32. I thought it was a joke at first – amateur dramatics. You know, just relieving the boredom of a night period. The message lasted less than two minutes. I filtered it; this is the enhanced version.”
Smith pressed a button on his console and looked up at the face of Dimitri to gauge his reaction.
“They are coming in, thousands of them, through the ventilations ducts and one-way valves . . . ants. I’ve never . . . I can’t . . . they’re everywhere. Comms are out. Can’t control the . . . massive electrical short. Extinguisher. Must get the extinguisher . . . arhhh . . . Jean, get them off me, they’re biting. The room’s alive . . . arghhh . . .”
Herbie shook his head. “That’s just some of it. The last part of the transmission sounds like a horror movie. Listen to this playback . . . it was earlier.”
“Hey Comm-Cen, how is it? Ralf Biddle LS17, how do you hear . . . ?”
“Yes Ralf, I hear you. Sorry, been for a natural break – not expecting a call from you for another three hours. What’s the deal . . . ?”
“Something funny going on up here, Jeff. It was just a routine report and I thought I’d better comply . . . but we got a sensory overload – probably a temporary spike in the supply voltage. I can’t see a problem with the systems feedback . . .”
“Okay, nothing showing my end, nothing out of the ordinary here . . .”
“Yeah sure, it’s gotta be a system malfunction – end of the line, you guys are always sending us the bad amps. Ha, ha . . .”
“Tell me, Ralf, what do you have . . . just for the record?”
“It started in our north-east sector, Jeff, about thirty minutes ago. Now it’s all around us, as if a massive piece of metal has been placed in front of the sensors – total overload, no returns whatsoever, through the entire three hundred and sixty degrees sector. Screens are white, can’t control the display with the gain, max gain, max filtration. I mean nothing seems to work – impossible, right?”
“Okay, okay, sounds like an electrical surge, very unusual all the same. I’ll give maintenance a call, get them out of bed. Leave it to me, Ralf; I’ll call you back with a sitrep when the team is on station.”
“You got it.”
Herbie looked up. “That first call was at 06:03 hours. Jeff Pastoor composed a short report and placed a call to the maintenance department at 06:08. He tried to raise Ralf and Jean again, but without success. Then we got that last transmission on the emergency frequency. That radio has its own batteries; I think the entire power network at LS17 was down by then.” Herbie took a wary look around to see who might be listening and then dropped his voice to a whisper. “Dimitri, I think they’re dead!” he said gravely. “I think they were attacked by something.”
“But not ants, that’s impossible.”
Herbie gestured in a “What if?” way and then suddenly stood up – Chief Operations Officer Eddie Lieven had stormed into the room.
Lieven put a hand on Herbie Smith’s shoulder and forced him back into his seat. “I’ve heard, Dimitri!” he shouted. “Trouble in the north sector again – LS17!”
Dimitri nodded. “I think it’s time to get the Defence Force involved, Chief. Something’s going on up there. We can’t keep blaming infrastructure malfunctions and believing that trespassers are impossible on the Moon.”
Lieven nodded. He was clearly reluctant to mobilise the voluntary army – the contingent of those with military backgrounds who volunteered for security duties on top of their careers – presumably worried about disrupting the normal routine of the colony and an inevitable cross-examination by the Senate’s executive committee. He considered the implications for a few moments. “Okay. Call the Colonel. Ask him to initiate ‘Recall Status’ for the 1st Regiment. We need an armed platoon on the scene as soon as possible. No need for the 2nd and 3rd Regiments to be called. What about aerial support?”
“The shuttle Hermes has remained on Alert Five since the third UAV was lost. We are keeping her on the ground as you instructed, although the science department has just confirmed that the recent surge in solar radiation and yesterday’s gamma ray peak could not be responsible for bringing down an unmanned vehicle – the shielding is better than the readings that are now available . . .”
“What about the last UAV we sent up?”
The Japanese woman at a nearby console overheard the conversation; she stood and took the few steps over to the group. “Excuse me, sir. Sorry, but I overheard that question . . . the UAV is still airborne, at the moment in the Sea of Tranquillity region. We thought it better to avoid the dark side in case it was a cosmic radiation overload causing all the system malfunctions we have been experiencing. It would not be the first time, sir. I’m in charge of the early warning response unit this morning. I can have the pilot head north towards LS17 immediately.”
“Good, well done. Let’s do that. Call me the moment the video relay starts. But tell the pilot not to approach from the light side; that’s been our problem – it’s what’s expected. Tell him the long way round – South Pole first, and then steer due nort
h, dark side run in. Be sure to keep low . . . Dimitri, second thoughts, I think it might be prudent to mobilise the entire defence force – please request a general recall immediately. The Colonel has my authority to open weapon lockers. And call the duty doctor; I want the hospital on one hour’s alert. I’m going back to my office to make some calls.”
“Copied, Chief. What about the shuttle . . . ? Remain at Alert 5 or get him moving?” asked Dimitri.
“Is Commander Reece back yet?”
“No, Chief.” Dimitri looked pained. “MI9 is not exactly sure where he is at the moment.”
Lieven rubbed his eyes as a look of livid frustration clouded his expression. He went to open his mouth but stopped short. He turned and went to leave, but then stopped again and looked over his shoulder. He stared at Dimitri with fiery eyes. “Keep the shuttle on the ground until the UAV sends us some imagery,” he barked. “In the meantime, Dimitri, you call London again. I want him back. This is his last chance!”
Elysium borderlands – same day
09:11 Martian Corrected Time
Paul Carr put a hand on the shoulder of Tom Race and gently shook it. “Commander,” he said quietly, “time to wake up, I’m afraid. The information you requested has just come in from Osiris. The Science Officer is adamant that we wake you.”
It was a small cabin with two narrow bunk beds and just enough floor space to change in. Tom had slept in his clothes, not meaning to be out for more than a few hours. He came to his senses and massaged his temples between his fingers.
“How are you feeling, sir?”
“Better thanks, Paul – yeah better. Bit of a headache last night.”
“It’s to be expected. Anna monitored your vital signs whilst you were asleep; she said it was a hangover from your concussion. But don’t worry, you’re all unplugged now; she gave you a shot of Oxytripelene. As far as the monitor is concerned, you’re back to normal.”
“Great, great . . . okay.” Tom spun round and put his feet on the deck. He looked up at Paul. “Seems to be a quiet ride out there,” he commented.
“Almost back on the Plain of Elysium. Pretty much heading east – it will be smooth for several hours now.”
“Elysium! What time is it?”
“Quarter past nine. We made the rendezvous a couple of hours ago, Commander. I took the decision to let you sleep. There was no reason to wake you. We transferred Tanner’s body and Dan went across as walking wounded. We had a message from Doctor Silvano on the medical vehicle about an hour ago. Dan’s doing fine; he’s stable . . . no harm done from the oxygen deficiency. They’ll be on the road for another day and will update us with an arrival message when they reach Osiris.”
Tom nodded. “Very good, thanks. What about the Pyramids? Do we have an ETA?”
“From twenty-one to twenty-three hours from now – depends on the route that Lesley can take over the Golan Heights, and there are some heavy electrical storms to avoid, too. Commander, Larissa is keen to talk to you. She has the back course information that you requested. It’s amazing; she’s saying that she may have found a planet remarkably similar to Earth.”
“Okay . . . give me a few minutes to wash-up and I’ll be out.”
“Veronica has the coffee brewing and a bit of breakfast for you as well.”
“What’s the comms window, Paul?” requested Tom, sitting down at the console.
“Another hour and ten minutes, Commander, and then restricted for five hours. High-frequency radio comms if we need it, but that band will become more unreliable as we go further east.”
“What about the coverage when we arrive?”
“That’s going to work out okay. IMARSAT Five has the best imaging equipment of all the satellites. She will arc just as we arrive and be available for at least six hours.”
“Good. Let’s see what Larissa has found then, shall we? Anna, open a channel to Osiris, please.”
“Aye aye, sir . . . Osiris Base from Support One, come in Osiris.”
“Baillie here in ops – strength five. Go ahead.”
“Yes, five by five also, Andy,” responded Anna. “Commander Race is requesting the information from the Science Department; we are standing by.”
“Captain Pavlikova is with me, and the Operations Officer has just arrived; we can go visual.”
“Video on,” returned Anna, and she pressed a button that had the console monitor registering the scene in Base Ops.
Andrew Baillie was sitting in front of the camera looking at Commander Race. He looked to his left and then scooted aside on his castored chair to be replaced by the Larissa Pavlikova. Her pale complexion and the blackness under her eyes had all the hallmarks of working through the night. She looked up as somebody came to stand by her side. “Morning Richie,” she greeted, and then she looked back at Tom. “Morning, Commander. I hear you are feeling better – that’s good.”
“Morning, Larissa. Yes, thanks. You’ve got some results?”
“Yes. My prediction indicates a ninety-eight per cent certainty. I triple-checked the results and then had Ronald run an independent – I’m sure what we have is correct.”
“Okay, let’s have it.”
“First, I requested some information from the centre manager at the ALMA submillimetre telescope facility on Earth. He told me that the body has been tracked travelling at light speed, albeit intermittently, and that during periods of associated invisibility, it is believed to have slipped into another dimension. During these periods the body appears to have travelled vast distances through space. I will not go into the theory behind this phenomenon, Commander, because it is still speculative, but it does seem likely that the body has journeyed from a position several light years away.”
“I see, go on.”
“The supposition is that when travelling at light speed there is very little deflection in the space–time vortex – the body’s reflection if you like. I used our triangulation programme and plotted the back course – the exact reverse trajectory based on its current and previous passage through space. Apart from a comet that crossed its flight path about four months ago, and a Category Two asteroid with possibly enough gravitational pull to deflect its course by 0.000112 parsecs, there is nothing else in the Canis Major sector for, well, eight or nine light years.”
“I understand the science, Larissa, so what did you find . . . ?”
“By coincidence, Commander, we spoke about the point of origin yesterday evening. It’s the brightest star in the night sky visible from Earth, and also for us here on Mars – the star Sirius, Commander, with an apparent magnitude of minus one point four six; it has the Bayer designation Alpha Canis Majoris, known colloquially as the Dog Star.”
“What! The Enigma . . . if it is the Enigma, has come back to us after having journeyed to a distant star . . . Come on . . . ?”
“Well, not that distant, relatively speaking of course . . . eight point six light years or two point six parsecs to be precise. It is one of our nearest neighbours, Commander, and the back course is right on the nose. As I said, the results have been independently checked.”
“The Enigma has been gone for . . . what . . . four-and-a-half years at most?”
“That’s why it corroborates with the data from the ALMA telescope – the inter-dimensional hypothesis. But it’s more interesting than that, Commander.”
“Go on!”
“What the naked eye perceives as a single star is actually a binary star system, consisting of a white main sequence star of spectral type A1Vm, called Sirius A, and a faint white dwarf companion of spectral type DA2, termed Sirius B. They were originally two bright bluish stars, but the more massive of these, Sirius B, became a red giant by consuming its resources. In astronomical terms that happened amazingly recently. It shed its outer layers and collapsed into its current white dwarf state only ten thousand to twenty thousand years ago. I’ve an interest in astronomy and some of the ancient civilisations on Earth knew of this star’s fate. Related text w
as found in both Egypt and South America.”
Tom nodded sceptically and looked up at Paul. “Okay, let’s run with this. “The Enigma paid a visit to either Sirius A or Sirius B . . . why?”
“In my view it is unlikely to be Sirius A, Commander. Why? Because that star is twenty-five times more luminous than our sun and has three times the mass – it is one to avoid. Also, it’s unlikely to be Sirius B, because that star packs the equivalent mass of our sun into an incredibly dense globe only four times the diameter of our Earth. The extent of the gravitational pull would be difficult to calculate and impractical to anticipate, and once ensnared it would be impossible to break free – at any speed.”
“I don’t understand, you said Sirius . . .”
“Commander, Sirius B has a solar system similar to our own sun, with currently seven planets in orbit. These planets were originally detected, and only ‘visible’ by, radio telescope. That was until the thirties, when the second generation optical converters were devised. I did some homework on this system. These planets can be seen as very faint bodies now, and the nearest one is about equivalent to the position of Saturn in our solar system. When Sirius B was a normal-sized blue star it is believed that three, perhaps four, other planets occupied much closer orbits. This is theorised because of the unusual eccentricity of the remaining planets – all the planets in a solar system have an effect on each other, no matter how slight. The current nearest planet was once believed to be in the ‘hot zone’; however, when Sirius B became a red giant it engulfed the nearest planets and although not getting close enough to destroy the one in question, the physical conditions became similar to that on our second nearest planet, Venus. In other words, very hot, certainly not conducive to life. Now, our triangulation program is accurate, but not accurate enough to calculate the exact location that our incoming body originated from . . . only that it was in the vicinity of Sirius B. But with such a massive gravitational effect around Sirius B it would not have escaped that star, and so it must have originated from somewhere close, but far enough away from it to be able to escape from it. My informed guess is that it is on its way to us from the current innermost planet in that system.”