Sebastiàn reached up, felt the gash that had been torn in his left cheek. “It’s minor, Captain.”
Drake took a closer look at it. “Shrapnel wound. Very clean. You’re a very lucky man, Lieutenant. Now I can recommend you for a medal.”
“I’ll settle for a bandage about now,” he replied, as the sound of people emerged from the hallway. Ferra and Kincaid emerged from the corridor. The engineer quickly surveyed the room and went over to Captain Drake’s side.
“I left Ensign Campbell at the conn,” she explained. “She’ll let us know if anyone’s creeping up on us out there. If you want me to check this computer out, it’s best that I get my hands on it.”
Kincaid looked over Tally’s cut and pronounced it as nothing serious. He placed an adhesive compress on it and then went to attend to the young navtech.
“I heard that about the bandage,” Kincaid grumbled, as he examined the wound. “But this is pretty deep. I’m going to have to bond it shut.”
“Do what you have to, Doc,” he said.
Kincaid led him over to a spot where he could sit. Deftly, the medtech sprayed the area with a pain-reducing mist, and then took out his tissue-bonding tools. Behind him, Tally hooked her battery to an undamaged console and the screen winked on.
Drake watched silently for a few minutes as Ferra’s fingers danced across the keys. He and Tally peered over the woman’s shoulders as she worked.
“This is frustrating,” Ferra grumped, as she gestured at the console with a beefy hand. “There’s no lock on this program, but whatever I upload is in some kind of code.”
“I’ve seen this before,” Tally put in. “It’s from the Interstellar War. Old Terran military code.”
“Then the computers on the Ranger should be able to break this in only a few minutes. We’ve got the code algorithms installed in our data banks.”
“Download it to our ship, then,” Drake ordered. “I want to get off of this rock and get some answers.”
“There we go,” Kincaid pronounced as he finished his work on Sebastiàn’s cheek. The medtech grasped a compress, placed it in the young officer’s hand, and had him press it to the side of his face below the eye. “Now hold that there for five minutes. Otherwise you’ll be scarred for life.”
“Captain!” Sebastiàn said, pleading.
“That’s enough, Kincaid,” Drake said wearily. “You don’t have to terrorize my officers to get them to do what you want.”
“Terrorize?” Kincaid looked genuinely shocked. “Why, I never would do such to the lad. I was merely giving him the worst case scenario.”
Sebastiàn shuddered and let out a groan.
* * *
The Ranger wasn’t large enough to have an official conference room. So as with much on board ship, the crew made do with what they had. Drake simply pressed his dining table into service by adding extra chairs and hooking up a console screen where everyone could see. No sooner had Drake, Tally, and his officers sat down than a call came in from the bridge.
“Ensign Campbell here, sir.”
“Yes, Ensign?” asked Drake.
“We’re clear of the debris field.”
“Very good. Maintain our position and keep me informed of any change,” Drake ordered. He returned his attention back to the table.
Drake glanced around the room. Sebastiàn, he noted, had returned to his good natured attitude, completely ignoring the faint line of the clear bandage on his cheek. The young bounce back quickly, he told himself. Kincaid looked unconcerned, and his attitude of ‘what else is new’ was about as positive as the man ever got. Tally and Ferra were by far the most intense; Tally seemed almost giddy with excitement, while Ferra seemed just awed by the decoding of the records from the asteroid base.
Ferra spoke first, pointing out the details of the decoded holographic blueprints. The three dimensional model displayed a cunningly designed machine, about half of the size of the Ranger itself. It was a low-slung, oblong contraption made up of the same white metal that was down on the asteroid.
“Captain,” she began, “I give you Project Sargasso. The space-temporal engine. We found the specification of this machine in the data banks. The mathematics encoded in the design are way beyond me. But it’s based on a logical extension of the branch of physics known as autodynamics. I suppose you could call this a variation on the Chandrakasar star gates, which allow us to move between star systems via nullspace.
“The key is this whitish material that makes up the machine. It’s a metal, but it’s a strange one. I’ve looked at a bar of the stuff under Tally’s neutrino microscope. All the atoms in this metal have their magnetic spin going in the same direction. Creating something like this…it would take a civilization that’s a lot better at subatomic metallurgy than ours. So there’s only one conclusion: we’re looking at a substance that is of alien origin.”
That made Drake and the rest of the group perk up. Tally took over, displaying a sheaf of paper printed out from the data.
“This is the original dig report, addressed to the Terran Archeological Society. As you might guess, I’m on the Board of Directors of that organization, and I’ve never heard of this. I don’t think news of it ever reached Earth.
“According to the records, this site switched over from civilian to military hands during the last two years of the Interstellar War. This Sargasso engine was built on that asteroid, and it had to have been built using alien material. Maybe even using alien technology.”
“All right, let’s say that you’re correct,” Drake allowed. “What exactly does this engine do?”
“It unites the concept of the space-time continuum,” Ferra answered, trying to shape the words with her hands. “It would allow someone to retrieve any object from a location in the past to a pre-selected point in the present.”
Drake glanced at Tally, who had a dreamy look on her face. Abruptly, he understood. He reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out the doubloon the woman had gifted him.
“Then I’m holding a real piece of eight, not a fake one, aren’t I?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Sharp as always, Captain,” Tally agreed. “That’s what threw my Carbon-14 readings off by several hundred years. Bringing those coins forward in time didn’t allow the radioactive material to decay like it should have. Instead of being over a thousand years old, they are by their atomic clock about nine hundred years younger.”
She looked around meaningfully, letting it sink in how a device such as the Sargasso engine would be a tool sent from heaven to an antiquity collector.
“There are some serious limitations with this machine,” Ferra pointed out. “That alien substance acts like a temporal ‘anode’. That is, you can bring that object from the past only to a point in the present within two hundred yards of a platform made of that metal.”
Drake rubbed his chin in thought. “That has to be problem, especially if we can’t make any more of it.”
“Yes, and that’s what the scientists down there concluded. The asteroid below us was one of six shipping platforms the Terran government put at various places within its sphere of influence. You only need around a cubic foot of the metal to make a usable platform. But you also need a tremendous amount of energy to work the Sargasso engine, at least by the standards of that time. You have to run the machine at full power for a few seconds or whatever you’re trying to bring in ‘slips’ back into its time stream and you’ve got nothing but air.”
“Okay,” Kincaid snapped angrily, “are you telling me the Security Council tried to deep six us for a damned antique retriever?”
“I’m afraid you don’t understand.” Ferra sighed. “This could be a boon to antiquity collectors, but it’s also a terrible weapon. The Sargasso engine could retrieve a nuclear bomb from just before the moment of impact at an event in the past. Then teleport it over a present day enemy city. It could yank a core of plasma from inside a star and deposit it on a planet. The tests established that this machine�
�s ‘retrieval’ range has absolutely no limits.”
The table went silent as each member sank into their thoughts. A soft chime came from the comm channel. Drake jabbed the button.
“Yes?” he growled, slightly irritated at the interruption.
“Ensign Campbell again, sir. We’ve just received a message from Fleet Commander Ruger.”
“Ruger? What does he want?”
“He says that the Guard Archives have determined that the Flying Dutchman was registered as a plague ship from the First Interstellar War. His orders state that we are to maintain a complete shipwide quarantine and remain in our current position until we’re picked up by a medical frigate.”
Drake sat back, astounded. “I don’t believe this.”
The Ensign went on. Her voice sounded high, frightened.
“Commander Ruger also regrets to inform us that since we harbor a potentially lethal pathogen, should we disobey orders, we are to be ‘fired upon and destroyed’.”
Chapter Eleven
“None of this adds up,” Drake fumed. “Ruger doesn’t know we’ve been on the asteroid. He claims that we’ve picked up a pathogen from the Dutchman, when nobody from this ship went on the derelict in the first place!”
“It does add up,” Tally said darkly. “If you factor in that Ruger wants us incommunicado until he has his people in control of the situation. And us.”
“Yes, that sounds properly ominous,” Kincaid grumbled.
Drake rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “The more pressing matter is: what do we do about this command?”
The table went quiet. Kincaid broke the silence by stating, “Quarantine orders fall under priority one regulations. If we go against it, this whole ship faces an effective court martial. If they go easy on us, it’s a dishonorable discharge. If they don’t…we’ll be getting some rather lengthy downtime in a place that uses bars for window treatments. But I’ll swear on my mother’s medical license that there’s been no sign of a contagious organism.”
“I didn’t know your mother had a medical license,” Ferra remarked.
“She doesn’t. But it’s the thought that counts.”
Drake considered. “If they’re sending a medical transport out here, then that’s at least ten hours away. Perhaps we can straighten out this whole misunderstanding before any of us are forced to take actions that we’ll all regret.” He locked stares with Tally; she looked away, balling her delicate hands into fists. “Ferra, I need you in engineering. Tally, I want you and Kincaid to give me the most detailed biological scan of our ship that your instruments can perform. I want to prove to any medical board that we’re not carrying anything infectious. Lieutenant Sebastiàn, I want you at your station.”
“Which heading, Captain?” the young man asked.
“Any heading aside from ‘holding our position’ would mean your career, such as it is.”
“I know, sir.” He set his jaw. “This is my ship too. I’ll stand by whatever heading you want me to plot in.”
Drake was touched. He opened his mouth, closed it, and rubbed his hands together. “No heading for the moment, Lieutenant. Everyone, to your posts.”
One by one, Tally and the rest of the Ranger’s officers filed out of the conference room. Drake waited until everyone had left before he too went to his cabin. He turned the lights out and then lay flat on his bunk.
He remained still, and one might have thought that he was at rest. But his chest rose and fell with alarming rapidity, as if he were in a footrace he had no hope of winning. Perhaps that was all too true.
Ruger’s been co-opted by the powers that be, Drake’s mind said, running in the ever deepening channel it was carving. This is his big excuse for getting us out of the way, isn’t it? There’s no other rational explanation for putting us into quarantine. If I don’t do something, then we’re all going to be looking at some sort of...what? Incarceration? Mind scan? Whatever secrets we weren’t supposed to learn, they were down on that asteroid, and we stepped right into it. But what other choice do I have?
Drake opened his eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling.
I’m actually contemplating mutiny.
Drake almost laughed bitterly at the thought. His ship was a sixty year old reject from the fleet, an oddball ship kept in by budget requirements. His crew was good, but what right did he have to ask them to throw away their lives on what might be a wild goose chase?
No. Whatever the consequences were, he’d play it safe, the way that he’d always done it. He’d surrender peacefully to the medical transport, when it came.
A trusting soul, aren’t you?
He threw his forearm across his face, trying to will sleep to come over him. His efforts were in vain. Drake was about to renew the struggle when his cabin’s door chime sounded.
Drake let out a groan. He scarcely concealed the irritation in his voice.
“Yes? What is it?”
“Captain,” came Tally’s voice, “it’s me. Can I come in?”
Drake meant to growl at her to go away. But what came out was, “Enter.”
The door slid open, admitting her. Tally seemed downcast, and she leaned against the cabin wall with a small sigh.
“We never get a break, do we?”
He shook his head, confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I would’ve liked to get to know you better, as a person. But everything we’re doing either blocks any interaction between us, or it drives us further apart.”
“You mean like what happened when we stepped onto the asteroid.”
“Yeah, partly. I also mean what happened at that bar. What happened at my place, when I tried to pay you off.”
“Forget it.”
“I’ve been trying, and I can’t.” Tally began to pace. Given that Drake’s cabin was only large enough for her to take five steps, it served to increase her frustration. “I’ve never really cared whether I offended anyone with the things I’ve done. I usually can just get by with someone if I apologize in general from time to time, and maybe give them something nice...”
He blinked. A sliver of understanding blossomed in his mind, his heart. Tally was doing her best in her own awkward way to reach out to him.
Drake stood. He went to her, put his hands on her shoulders to stop her pacing. He spoke more softly than he’d have thought possible in his deep, commanding voice.
“Maybe you should just try being honest for a change. No more double dealing, no more quid pro quo. Accept the fact that not everyone deals in the same currency that you do.”
Tally glanced away from him for a moment. Took a breath, and then looked back at him.
“I’ll try that.” She smiled shyly and then ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry to bring up personal matters when there’s so much else going on…I just didn’t know when else to do it. I didn’t know if we’ll ever have the chance, not with Ruger’s orders.”
“I don’t mind. I’m glad you came to me.”
“Have you decided what you’re going to do about the quarantine order?”
“No.” Drake sighed. “Hell, maybe yes. If I lie back and think of all the things that could go wrong, then I won’t have to make the decision. I can just sleep the problem away. Wake up in eight hours so that the medical transport will be there, and the option will be moot.”
Tally frowned. “That doesn’t sound like the Benjamin Drake who dragged me out of a bar back in Ogala City.”
“It is. I came to you because I wanted to know how our mission went awry. Because I have a duty to my crew to give them my best effort.”
“You’ve got a duty to more than them, this time,” she said softly.
“What are you talking about?”
“Look, you just suggested that I try more honesty for a change,” she pointed out. “I’m asking you to do the same. Let’s say that by some chance Ruger’s in the right and you’re wrong. If you disobey orders, then you’ve disgraced and ruined the lives of
your crew. I can see that, I understand that. But what if we’re right, and Ruger’s working for someone else? Someone who wants that engine back?”
“Don’t you mean, ‘Someone who wants to keep it a secret’?”
“No, I mean that they want it back,” Tally said. “Ferra and I continued decoding more of the data we got from that base.”
“This sounds ominous.”
“Wish I could disagree with you, Benjamin. The science team in charge of Project Sargasso managed to finish their test runs right as the war was ending. But rather than unleash this new terror weapon on the world, they began to erase all their data. They must have been successful. Because the Terran Security Council was watching us. Waiting for my expedition to find their new toy.” She removed Drake’s hands from her shoulders, held one of them between her palms. “I’m a loyal Terran, of course. But do you think we can trust this Black Ops division? Especially after what happened out here? What they did to your crew, or to my friend, Bill Gamble?”
Drake closed his eyes. Watched the patterns of light splash across the insides of his eyelids. Thought back to his memories of Rori, the ones that Tally had unlocked. The memories which counseled him in the dark hours to not take chances.
But Tally wasn’t Rori. And the counsel those memories gave him could be useless now.
When Captain Drake opened his eyes, he stood a little straighter. When he moved, it was with the air of a man who’d made his decision.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Drake announced, “I have a ship to command.”
* * *
“Captain on the bridge!” Lieutenant Sebastiàn sang out. The navtech nodded at Drake, who strode into the command center with Tally at his side. “Relinquishing the conn.”
Sebastiàn gave Drake the captain’s chair back and returned to his navtech console. Ensign Campbell in turn gave up the navtech position and moved to a secondary panel.
“Lieutenant,” Drake ordered, “bring us around so that our nullspace antenna is in line with Earth. I want real-time communication for this.”
“Yes, sir.”
Treasure of the Silver Star Page 8