Discovery (Terran Chronicles)

by Jackson, James

  “Even if we could cut away the hull and disconnect them from the power grid we have no way of getting them up to the ship. Even if we did somehow get them on board they would have to be installed on the main hangar deck.”

  George stares at the solution to their ever present power shortages on the Terran racking his brain for ideas. Finally he shakes his head in disappointment. The three men head back to the hangar deck where the buzz of activity continues.

  Joe has been waiting for George and is most excited when he spots him.

  “George,” he hollers across the expanse, catching his attention. “I want to check out the engines, but need your help.”

  “Sure thing,” he replies walking toward Joe.

  Hayato takes the opportunity to quietly discuss another of his observations with Radclyf. Next the pair convince John to take a shuttle and fly them slowly around the front of damaged spacecraft. Hayato’s keen eyes search the forward hull section looking for the oddity that caught his attention earlier.

  “There!” Hayato almost shouts as he points at a raised section of hull.

  John swings the shuttle around so they are nose to nose, directly in front of the skyward pointing section. Radclyf whistles as he points out parts of hull plating that can only be protective covers. From this angle there can be no mistaking them for what they are, weapons pods.

  Radclyf counts those in view. “One huge pod and nine smaller ones?”

  Hayato nods in agreement. While they are counting John notices an oddity, and motions to yet another part of the ship.

  “What the heck is that?”

  He pilots the shuttle up and over the nose section to get a closer look at the small protrusion from the hull. As they get closer they can see that the object is by no means small at all. Indeed it is thicker than the shuttle, and much longer. John frowns a little as he tries to make out what he is looking at.

  “It almost looks like an antenna, except it’s pointing forward.”

  After a few minutes scrutiny they continue on, exploring more of the outer hull, finding more weapons pods and antennas. John makes one more pass over the nose section that points to a sky it can never reach again. Radclyf gives Hayato a knowing nod, then says to John politely.

  “You can take us back inside now, thank you.”

  John does as instructed, then makes his way to the bridge. The two combat veterans make their way briskly to the upper most level where they begin searching earnestly. It takes them a while, but they persist until they finally discover what they are looking for. The large room before them houses the interior portion of an antenna. The ceiling mount looks like a massive swivel while the base area is connected to the ship’s power grid by a pair of large flexible cables. Moving on, they continue searching until they find the second weapon system. Whereas the first looks like an antenna this one resembles the outside of medieval cannon, but one that is also connected to the power grid by a single flexible cable. The dull grey cylinder also appears to have a ceiling mount that can swivel. After a lengthy discussion they reluctantly agree that they just do not have the means to remove the weapons, let alone to install them on the Terran.

  During this time, George accompanies the console he removed from the bridge back to their ship. Then he returns with the small alien hand held unit. Using his suit he and Joe are able to access the first of the three areas containing the ship’s huge main engines. George grins as his hand held unit activates. His grin fades as the engine drive status is displayed. Even though George is in his suit Joe can see his shoulders sag.

  “What is it?” Joe asks, even though he is sure he knows the answer.

  George taps his hand held unit over and over before responding with a sigh.

  “The drive is inoperable, that’s all this thing tells me.”

  They check the other two main engines, but get the same result. Joe gazes down the main drives long shaft with its massive coil system that surrounds it.

  “I wonder what happened?”

  George’s heads shoots up suddenly as he recalls an earlier conversation.

  “Logs, you mentioned looking for log entries. Let’s go to the bridge.”

  The pair hurries to the bridge where they find Cindy seated in the command chair, tapping at its armrest console. George connects to one of the central consoles then proceeds to hunt down anything he can that resembles a recording. His jaw immediately drops at his discovery, and if it were not for the suit’s automatic stabilizers he would have fallen over.

  “Ohh my!” He exclaims as alien words are translated by his ear piece.

  His eyes go wide as he searches for a way to get the others to listen.

  “GUS” he says out loud, making no sense whatsoever to those around him.

  George copies a few recordings then just before he disconnects he has an idea. Searching back through the extensive data base he eventually finds the first recording ever made. With building excitement he copies the message without even listening to it.

  “I think GUS can manage the translation.” He says meeting blank stares. “The ship’s logs!” He continues.

  Cindy tilts her head in surprise.

  “Oh, I have to hear this, let’s go.”

  No one stays behind, they are all extremely curious. Even though everyone is getting tired from the long day they all wait patiently for the translated recordings. By the time George is ready, the bridge is brimming with curious crew members. From the computer technicians that processed the data to the members of Radclyf’s and Hayato’s teams, and a number of others besides. With exaggerated flair George motions for Cindy to touch a symbol on her armrest panel.

  The view of the planet is suddenly replaced by an alien face. The creatures motley green skin and long snout full of sharp teeth dominate the entire window. Those close to sight step back. Its yellow eyes with their vertical iris seem to stare at everyone on the bridge while its head turns left and right. If the view were not frightening, the alien’s tiny droopy ears would look comical by comparison. The image stutters a little at first then sounds rush out from the speakers.

  “Regent Gordok, my life is yours.” The image zooms out a little as the Gamin lifts his chin, then raises its left arm into the air. Its three claws clench onto a fist then pump the air with force. The image swings around to reveal a massive area teaming with Gamin, hundreds upon hundreds each with a clenched fist held high. “Prime Zorkna, my life is yours.” The recording fades away leaving those on the bridge speechless.

  George breaks the silence with an excited voice.

  “We know from the timepiece we found that that the Gamin have a bit over a twenty-six hour day, with two hundred and ninety five days being one of their years.” He pauses to take a breath, even he can’t believe what he is about to say. “Adjusting to Earth’s time,” he gulps, “this recording was made over six thousand years ago.”

  Cindy stares dumfounded at the command chair she occupies, her mind reeling at the age of the recording.

  George continues on unperturbed, he received his shock when he listened to them all while working with the computer technicians. He is still a little stunned, but more at what he knows comes next.

  “This recording was taken some fifty years ago, Earth time.”

  The screen is suddenly filled with another alien face, the skin a darker shade of green, the teeth not so sharp. The figure rests in the very chair now holding Cindy.

  “Though I have failed my crew, we have not failed our Regent. We shall yet prevail through these dark times. With the loss of my ship, I am no longer Prime. My last act is to deny our mortal enemy the satisfaction of finding any of us.” The image zooms closer and closer until the aliens grinning face fills the view completely. It cuts out suddenly, switching back to display the planet once more.

  George quickly speaks up before anyone else can jump in.

  “Please keep in mind that the translation may have been a little off. I could not find anything that recorded the actual b
attle, nor anything about their enemy.”

  Cindy gulps as she tries to fathom what this means to them. She touches the chair gingerly as the significance of the videos sink in. This ship is six thousand years old.

  “Was that the same alien? And do we know what happened to the crew?”

  “Yes, that was the same Prime, but as for the crew, it looks like they escaped.”

  “They live for that long!” She unintentionally says out loud, her voice full of surprise.

  The room full of people have been quiet, or speaking in hushed whispers. This gradually turns into a buzz of voices which threaten to overwhelm Cindy and George.

  Speaking up over the hubbub Cindy asks another question.

  “Are there more recordings?”

  “There are numerous recordings, I just thought the first and last would give us some insight.”

  “Well I think you are right, those two recordings certainly did that, well done.”

  Cindy puts a hand to her forehead and rubs at the threatening headache. Well there is no need to carbon date the plating anymore. She frowns a little as many thoughts come to mind at once. Perhaps we should anyway, to test our methods. She continues to ponder as her eyes wander around the room, not really seeing. The crowd starts to drift off as its obvious the show is over. Looking at the console which they brought up from the damaged ship she turns back to George.

  “I wonder what we will learn from that unit?”

  George follows her gaze, then grins.

  “Well let’s find out.”

  Cindy has been considering many ideas but one recurring thought is bothering her.

  “I want to get some distance between us and this planet. Bring all the teams back, and get us out of here as soon as you can.”

  Her command crew is a little perplexed at the unexpected nervousness coming through her voice. While George and Joe work to install the console the rest of the bridge crew gets organized. It takes them less than an hour to get underway. With sub-light engines pushing them away from the system, Cindy can only wonder what happened to the crew of the damaged ship. Andrew plots a course which he gives to John. He does not even wait for Cindy’s usual order, but engages the main drive as soon as he has the telemetry. The view once again turns from the bland white dots to the mesmerizing cascade of colors.

  John turns back to look at Cindy as he announces calmly.

  “Accelerating to factor five.”

  Cindy settles back into her chair, for some reason that planet was making her nervous. She does not know why, however she has learned through the years to act and not wait when her senses tell her something does not add up. Feeling very tired, she notices that George and Joe are still hard at work.

  “Why don’t you two take a rest, we can live without that thing being installed for another day.”

  George looks at Joe and can see that the man is obviously worn out. Though he feels perfectly fine, he also heads to his quarters. While the main crew rests, the Terran continues on its way.

  Cindy wakes to the chirping of the intercom system. Once again she is woken up by an exuberant crew member. Sitting up now she finds the voice hard to discern and the speaker does not identify themselves. While listening she runs her fingers through her long blonde hair, becoming aware of its extra length. Finally getting a gist of what they are rambling about she interrupts the caller.

  “All right, give me a few.” She is about to say a number of choice words but notices the time. “I will come to the mess hall.” Frowning at the clock she is stunned to find that she has slept a solid eleven hours. A warm shower refreshes her, the rest having provided much needed rejuvenation.

  Arriving at the mess hall she is greeting by a sheer mob of people cheering. A large group form a circle around something. Whatever is going on, people seem to be betting on it as money changes hands quite frequently. As people notice Cindy they move just enough to allow her to enter. Her jaw drops, there in the midst of the throng is Peter, Radclyf, Hayato, and the human sized suit that they found. She shakes her head as she can see what is happening. A young crew man walks up to the Gamin body suit then with a show of bravado he steps back into it just as George does. The suit closes around the man, then the helmet swings down. The man is fully enclosed, but only for a few seconds. The suit suddenly opens up, the man almost jumps out of it, he falls to the floor and starts heaving into a nearby bucket. the crowd cheers as money changes hands.

  Peter holds up a small container then with his other hand pulls out a slip of paper.

  “Patrick”

  At hearing his name Patrick looks up, in surprise.

  “There must be some mistake, I didn’t add my name.”

  The crowd starts to chant. “Patrick, Patrick, Patrick.”

  Cindy is about to intercede but decides to wait and watch instead.

  Reluctantly Patrick stands up, then noticing Jeremiahs mischievous expression, swings a playful fist in his direction. Shaking his head he walks to the alien suit, he knows there is no getting out of this. Facing the cheering crowd he steps backward into the suit. It immediately starts to close around him. Finding where his feet and hands are supposed to go is easy enough. The suit continues to close around his legs and chest making a snug fit as it entombs him. The helmet swings down, its visor is down, and appears cloudy. The split second the helmet contacts his head an unexpected kaleidoscope of colors appears before his eyes. The colors are out of focus and shift about in an unsettling fashion, making him a little nauseous. Mere seconds later the colors come into focus, as soon as they do so, he feels a lot better. Strange symbols scroll up and down the visor. Looking through the visor it rapidly goes from opaque to clear. He can see the crowd of people just staring back at him. I am not sick, he realizes. How do I open the visor? No sooner does he have the thought, than the visor swings up into the helmet. In his excitement he literally jumps for joy. The suit launches him into the ceiling where his helmet clangs loudly. He lands clumsily on the floor, then looks sheepishly at those around him. Squinting at Jeremiah he can’t quite discern what he sees. Immediately the visor swings down, the view zooms in showing the man collecting money, a lot of money. The suit somehow translates my thoughts and just does what I think. WOW.

  The crowd start to break up, their entertainment is over. Cindy smiles at Peter, she can’t wait for his explanation. Her expression turns to one of all seriousness as she gazes at Patrick in the Gamin body suit.

  “OK, you can get out of that suit now. You need to talk to Olaf and George. They will instruct you on how to use it properly,” she looks at the ceiling adding, “and safely!”

  She turns to leave then has an idea.

  “Ohh, by the way, congratulations, you’re now an officer. Join me on the bridge after you have put the suit away.”

  Patrick’s jaw drops, he turns to his friend who simply shrugs his shoulders while stuffing wads of money into his pockets.

  “You owe me half of that!” He says bluntly.

  Jeremiah grins, but says nothing in return.

  The crowd of onlookers has dwindled to only a few people. They offer Patrick their encouragement and well wishes, but he senses that they are also pleased that they are not in his shoes.

  Cindy makes her way to the bridge with Peter in tow. He keeps insisting that the only way to get the crew to try the suit was to set up a betting pool. She says nothing but is quietly pleased at his ingenuity.

  Arriving at the bridge she is surprised to find George, in his suit, working hard installing the new console. What an asset to the crew, we would have all been killed a few times over if it were not for that man. George mistakenly takes her staring as a sign of disappointment.

  “I will have this up and running in no time,” he says almost apologetically.

  Cindy smiles, “take your time. It will be ready when it’s ready.”

  She sits in her raised command chair and watches the colorful display as they travel many times the speed of light. It does not
take long for Patrick to arrive along with Radclyf and Hayato. With John piloting, Joe and Andrew seated, the entire bridge crew is present and accounted for.

  “Gentlemen, meet our newest suit operator.” She motions to Patrick. “George, I want you to train Patrick on the suit’s operations.”

  “Sure thing, Olaf will be very happy. He has been spending a lot of time in reactor control. We could use the extra pair of hands that’s for sure.”

  Cindy had almost forgotten about Olaf and the many issues still plaguing their nuclear reactors. Must make the effort to visit him and thank him. The conscious thought is almost a guilty one. While mentally sifting through the huge list of things still to be properly fixed George proudly speaks up, bringing her thoughts back to the here and now.

  “This little baby is ready!”

  Everyone on the bridge turns to look. George is standing over the unit, poised ready to activate it at Cindy’s order. She does not disappoint them. Walking over to watch the console first hand she stands between Peter and Joe. The curiosity is just too much for them as well.

  “OK. Let’s see what this console does.”

  George touches the panel bringing it to life instantly.

  Joe stares at the display for a moment, then walks to his own.

  “Hey! That’s a star map of our immediate area.”

  Joe walks back to the newly installed console then expertly expands the area, adding more stars to the map. In the middle of the screen a small green dot is evident. Joe expands the field further.

  “If I have this right this is a one hundred light year radius. Our current system can only do twenty. With this we can probably plot a shorter route home.”

  Peter also paces between Joes console and the new one. “What are these other green dots?”

  Joe frowns at a couple of them as he checks his own console then finally he turns to his laptop. After a full ten minutes he is just as baffled.

  “Well they are not stars, this one is moving really fast”

  He taps the panel over one of the green dots. The image zooms in, way in. The single green dot splits into twenty dots. A chill works its way up his spine.