by T. R. Harris
Sherri felt Adam’s hand tense as he stroked her hair. “What’s wrong?”
“We’re losing well-integrity,” Adam’s voice was as tense as his hand.
“The generators?”
“No … it’s being overloaded. This is not good.”
The two of them ran out of the lounge and toward the pilothouse. Adam knew that an overloaded gravity-well was extremely dangerous, especially the wells produced by the concentrated-array employed by the Pegasus.
He slipped into the pilot’s seat while Sherri took up a position at the navigator’s station. Already his telepathy device was feeding him data from the ship’s monitors, and actually faster than he could take it in. The device imbedded under his right armpit was in constant communication with all the ship’s electronics; it could weed out the everyday and commonplace from the critical and only report to him those that were the most-urgent. However, at this particular moment, it seemed as though all the ship’s systems were screaming in his brain, Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!
The input into his brain soon became such a jumble of overlapping alerts and warnings that he couldn’t take it anymore. He reached behind his back and turned off the telepathy device using the pressure switch located just under the skin at the pit of his back.
The sensation of breaking the connection was always a jolt, feeling as if his senses had suddenly switched from high-definition 3-D to 1950’s black and while. It was like he just lost a vital part of his awareness and vision, which in reality is just what happened. Even as he began to manually monitor the well-integrity from his station, he was amazed at how quickly he’d adapted to the added senses the device provided and knowing eventually he’d have to find a way of screening the incoming data down to a more manageable level. After all, it didn’t make sense to turn off the device in a time of crisis, not when it was needed the most.
However, as he scanned the data on his screen, it didn’t take a super high-tech device to tell him what the problem was: the gravity-well was taking in too much material … yet according to the charts, this shouldn’t be happening. The Pegasus was currently transiting a region of space near the star Adenion, and it should have been clear of any superfluous matter. At least that’s what the charts showed.
“We’re in some kind of dense debris field,” Sherri called out from her station. “It’s not on the charts … and damn, it seems to cover almost the entire system!”
“I see that,” Adam said. “This place has been shredded.”
“What about the well; how bad is it?”
Adam watched his screen as red lights began flashing on every sensor. “At this rate of absorption we could be in real trouble. We’re fast approaching critical mass.”
Sherri had never piloted a spacecraft before – content to let the guys do all the driving – so she was not even aware that a well could overload.
“What does that mean? Won’t it just dissolve if it takes in too much matter?”
“Not necessarily. We have a microscopic blackhole sitting about four hundred yards from us. When regular blackholes take in too much stuff, they expel the extra material in the form of a gamma ray burst.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not. Gamma ray bursts can fry us where we sit,” Adam said. “We were warned about this when the ship was designed. The array focuses such a concentrated amount of energy in a small space that we’re able to establish really deep wells very close to the ship. This allows us to move through star systems a lot faster than any other type of ship. But having all that energy so close does have its risks.”
“I know how the drive works, Adam,” Sherri said, sounding perturbed. “So just shut it down.”
“I can’t do that,” Adam declared, as he turned back to his screen. “The well’s been clearing the debris field ahead of us, and if I dissolve it now, we’d still be carrying so much momentum that even the smallest particles outside would pulverize us.” The frown lines on his forehead were becoming canyons.
“But if we can’t do that ….” Sherri let her sentence trail off, at a loss as to what else to say.
“Yeah … it’ll continue to suck in matter until it reaches the point of no return, and then boom, we’re toast – literally.”
“How long do we have?”
Adam had been watching the energy levels spike on his screen; they were already well past the red danger mark. “Could be any time.” Adam’s voice was trembling, and even though he wanted to maintain the strong, macho front for Sherri, he knew she was smart enough to know the truth.
“So where did all this crap come from?” Sherri asked.
“I don’t know. Something huge passed through this system and threw the entire gravity balance out of whack. It even looks like some of the smaller moons may have collided and added to the debris.” And then as Adam watched the cloud of space junk on his screen, he thought he saw something, a pattern of some sort to the movement of the debris. It seemed to be flowing in somewhat the same direction.
“So you’re saying a ship on deep-well shot through here—”
“Wait one!” Adam said holding up his hand. Even through the tension in the room, Sherri shot him an angry look at being interrupted.
“Excuse me!” she shot back.
“Please, Sherri, I think I’ve got an idea. Is it just my imagination … or is the debris cloud moving in the same direction?”
Sherri’s navigation computer provided more advanced monitoring of the objects in the general vicinity of the ship. She tapped a few controls, adding trajectory lines to some of the more massive objects. Yes! They were moving in the same direction – more or less – but not all of them. It was still a chaotic mess throughout their monitoring range.
“You’re right,” Sherri said. “About thirty-degrees to the left.”
“Good.” Adam took the control stick and began to ease it over. “Thirty-degrees to port should put us in the stream.”
“What good does that do? The objects aren’t moving at nearly the speed we’d be outside the well.”
Already Adam was punching buttons on his panel. “I’m creating a back-well, something to help slow us down.”
“Great, why didn’t you do that in the first place?”
Adam was getting annoyed at Sherri’s backseat driving. Throughout her time in space – even before the two of them had met – she had never owned a starship or acted as her own pilot. She had always relied on commercial travel until she met up with Adam and Riyad, and then the guys chose to always take the pilot’s seat anytime they went anywhere. It seemed that even thousands of light-years from Earth, old habits and gender prejudices still prevailed.
“I have to pull a couple of the focusing rings from the forward array in order to create the back-well. That means the containment field of the forward-well will drop, and with it already at critical mass, that just means it could reach the point of no return even sooner.”
“So are you sure creating the back-well is such a good idea?”
Even in the heat of the moment, Adam took the time to stop and stare at Sherri. “I’m open to suggestions.”
Sherri opened her mouth to speak, but then changed her mind. She had nothing.
“That’s what I thought.” He turned back to his station. “Now if I can just reduce our forward velocity enough, I can dissolve the well and ease us into the flow of the debris field. The problem is the back-well is also becoming overloaded.”
“What the hell!”
“Trust me; this is going to be tight!”
Suddenly the ship began to vibrate violently, as the two gravity singularities began to battle each other for dominance. For a moment, it felt as if the ship would be torn apart, and even the incredibly strong and advanced internal gravity-wells weren’t doing enough to compensate.
“Hold on, I’m dissolving the internals!” Adam cried out through the deafening sound of the vibration and the creaking of the hull. Suddenly his stomach climbed into his
throat as the internal gravity fell away. The sensation only lasted a split second, until the two competing gravity sources, forward and aft, began to have more effect on their bodies.
Sherri cried out in pain, while Adam emitted a low guttural groan of his own. Through eyes seemingly pulled in opposite directions, Adam struggled to watch his screen as their forward momentum began to bleed off rapidly. He noticed, too, that the indicators for both wells were well into the red. It wouldn’t be long before they both went critical!
Finally, he couldn’t wait any longer; he pressed the buttons that cut the generator feed to the singularities.
The sickening feeling of vertigo returned instantly. Adam heard Sherri cough heavily, continuing and nearly evolving into a violent vomiting spell. To her credit, she fought against the urge.
And then they became aware of the loud pinging sounds coming from seemingly every direction.
“We’re being hit!” Sherri called out.
“I’m activating the chemical drive to slow us down even more … rotating the ship.”
As Adam cranked the control stick to starboard, he heard a pronounced increase in the pinging. “We have three hull breaches!” Sherri cried out. “No … now five.”
“Containment?” Adam asked.
“Yep; sealing foam is being disbursed.” The Pegasus contained miles of tubing running throughout her hull which constantly circulated the liquid sealing chemical. If a hull breach occurred near one of these lines, the void between the various layers of the hull would fill with the liquid, which would quickly expand to become a very effective sealing agent. Even in everyday use, hull breaches were a common occurrence aboard all starships.
“Six more holes just –” Sherri was interrupted by a loud ping right in front of her. Both she and Adam looked up at the forward viewscreen and saw a spider-web-like pattern of cracks growing rapidly in the glass window.
“Damn!” Adam said as he reached forward and punched a button on his console. Through the still-cracking glass they watched as the blast shield shot up to cover the opening, while sealing foam quickly flowed into the void between the blast shield and the viewport, averting disaster.
“That could’ve been bad. I should’ve lifted the damn shield before dissolving the wells.”
The chemical drive was blasting at full throttle now as their forward momentum was nearing the velocity of the objects in the debris field. The thuds and pings on the metal hull were less frequent now.
“Looks like your plan worked, macho-man,” Sherri said. “Thanks for saving us – again.”
He looked over at her and produced a wry smile. “Jus doin’ my job, ma’am.”
“Well, Tex, now that we’re somewhat safe, I’ll ask the question again: what caused this to happen?”
Adam turned back to his screen and switched to a view that would detect magnetic influences. “There it is … or more correctly, there they are,” he began. “A whole series of massive gravity waves, just above the plane of the ecliptic.”
“So spaceships did cause this? What fools would pass through a system on full deep-wells? They had to know what they’d do to the system.”
Adam counted the various peaks and troughs of the waves. “It looks like almost twenty waves, maybe more. They were traveling in a line, so it’s hard to tell exactly how many. But they had to be Class-4’s or fives – and on full drive. When they passed they pulled nearly everything in this system smaller than our moon out of orbit and crashing into each other.”
Sherri was at her screen, also punching buttons. “This system isn’t part of the Solar Alliance, but it does have an inhabited planet that’s been contacted by the Authority. The paperwork for making them a member is in the works. According to what I’m seeing here, Humans only have a small presence there.”
“What’s it called and where’s it located?” Adam asked. “We’re going to need repairs before we can continue. And besides, I’d like to see what damage a debris field like this can do to a planet.”
“It’s called Arcton, and it’s about a million miles from here, on this side of the star.” Sherri spent a few seconds leaning in near her screen. “And Adam, they’re right in the middle of the debris field. There’s no way they haven’t been impacted.”
“Impacted is the right word,” Adam said dryly. “Think dinosaur-killing impacted. It could be a real mess. Any information about their technology; will they be able to help … if they’re not already extinct?”
“They’re in the Library,” Sherri replied, “but not a lot of information. They do appear to have industrial capacity – or at least they did before all this.”
“Send me the coordinates; let’s go take a look. In the meantime, let’s check these hull breaches. The sealing foam can only do so much and it’s not a permanent fix.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” Sherri said with a smile. Adam mirrored her countenance, amazed at how quickly Sherri’s demeanor could change on a dime. She had always been a tough one, although lately she’d been letting her emotions get the best of her. However, in the face of danger Adam knew he could always count on Sherri Valentine when it counted.
Adam rotated the ship around once again and fired up the chemical drive. He had to be careful not to go too fast, or else they could still end up getting pelted by the slower-moving debris. And now they also had to cut across the flow of the debris field by about ten degrees in order to rendezvous with the planet, and as soon as Adam changed course, the pinging sounds on the hull returned, yet not nearly as intense or with the same results. However, during the nineteen-hour transit to Arcton, eight more hull breaches occurred, including the loss of two focusing rings.
Even though most ships only employed a maximum of four rings, because of the particular design of the Pegasus-drive, missing out on only two rings – out of a total concentrated-array of eight – meant they would operate at a level below even long-haul trawlers, lumbering through space at speeds scarcely higher than on chemical drive.
Before encountering the debris field, their trip to Earth had only two weeks remaining. Now it would take months, if not more. In fact, until Adam had a chance to land the ship and check the full extent of the damage, he wasn’t sure if his ship would ever reach Earth.
44
Riyad on Lucon-Por…
All three hundred of the medical monitors were loaded onto an oversize electric cart and Canos drove Riyad into the sprawling and confused mass of the trade union clearinghouse grounds. Riyad had been around a lot of aliens in his day, yet this incredible press of exotic lifeforms staggered even him. The sounds were deafening and the smell overwhelming. He did his best to fight back the urge to vomit, afraid that if he did, one of these disgusting creatures would rush in to quickly lap it up. That thought by itself nearly pushed him over the edge.
Much to his relief, they finally reached their destination. The market for medical devices was a much cleaner and calmer area of the clearinghouse, and he was finally able to determine what a native Lucon looked like. They were very smooth-featured and well-proportioned. They resembled the Tel’or to a degree, with elf-like ears and light greenish skin color, yet not so bumpy. Honestly, these creatures didn’t offend. They were well-groomed and even had a pleasant fragrance to their skin. Riyad stepped off the cart and followed Canos as he approached a waiting Lucon male.
The native looked past the pair and to the near-empty cart. “Have you already sold most of your merchandise?” he asked Canos.
The Tel’oran turned to Riyad. “This is the seller … he is Riyad of Klingon.”
“Then I will ask you, is this all you have to offer? I know not what you carry at this time, but they must be extremely small to take up so little space.”
Riyad carried one of the Formilian devices with him. It resembled a small notebook computer and measured about eight inches by ten inches. “This is an advanced medical monitoring device, capable of thirty-four diagnostics simultaneously. It is of Formilian design, so you know it carries
within it the best electronics available.”
The Lucon took the device and looked it over briefly before returning his attention to the cart. “How many of these devices have you brought?”
“I have three hundred.”
The native looked at Canos with a frown. “You are Tel’oran; have you not informed this being that we deal in lots of twenty-thousand or more when it comes to medical devices?”
“I have informed him, yet this is all he carries.”
“I have more available … if you find them acceptable.”
The Lucon shook his head. “I will not even bother. Please take them down the line.”
“But they are the most-advanced model available.”
“Go; I have others to tend to.”
Canos took Riyad by the arm and pulled him away. Riyad was about to lose his temper, now caught up in his cover role as a merchant. Through his Arab heritage he prided himself on being an excellent practitioner of barter transactions. Now this was going to get personal.
“These are really good units!” he said to Canos as they moved to the next booth. He didn’t really know if they were or not, just what he’d been told. But Riyad Tarazi didn’t like to be rejected, especially by aliens.
This same humiliating scene was repeated four more times as he and Canos went down the line. Finally they met a native who did show some interest. He directed them to join him for a private discussion in a small, enclosed cubicle behind his trading booth.
“Your units are very interesting and very advanced. The alien smiled tightly and looked directly into Riyad’s eyes. “Yet I am more curious what else you might have for sale … Human?”
Canos jerked his head in Riyad’s direction. “Human! You’re a Human? I thought you said you were a Klingon?”
Riyad grew deadly serious and moved to block the exit to the small meeting room. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” he said to the buyer, his eyes locked on his every movement. “Our races are very similar in appearance, but I am not a Human.”