The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books

by John Thornton

  “It must have leaked out from the interior,” Sandie made another note to herself and tagged the appropriate data collection. Among the vast ecology of Zalia were previously uncatalogued things sprouting up from the ground alongside where the furrow had been made. Foliage. Those swayed and oscillated back and forth in the waning light. The red globe of the sun was nearly at the horizon now, the darkness was becoming thicker. Few if any stars would be visible from the ground due to the Zalia’s thick atmosphere. Nighttime was very dark. Sandie did record that the foliage things had yellowish stalks with maroon colored crowns wavering in the winds.

  “What!” Sandie was astonished, almost to a human degree. Her artificial intelligence was reeled by an unexpected finding. It was as shocking as it was unforeseen. “Human remains!” There were cadavers of humans scattered about the bottom of the furrow. “How and why are there human remains outside of Habitat Beta?”

  Sandie began running conjectures. The shuttle turned on exterior lighting and cast it down at the ground. This helped with enhanced details, but did not allow for physical sampling or direct examination. Sandie remotely gathered every bit of forensic evidence possible on the human remains. Doing so from the shuttle was limited, but she tried. Then Sandie focused the scans on the machinery and equipment around the area where those human bodies had been seen. The winds blowing over the furrow were gaining strength in the waning light, and the atmosphere was thickening. Sandie forged on.

  There were ramps, cranes, and conveyors projecting out from the permalloy hull. There was also a wrecked olive-drab colored automacube, with shiny black wheels sitting inert in the furrow. Its broken hulk was near the human remains. The twisted and shattered stumps of twin manipulation arms were on its top. It was larger and more armored than any automacubes Sandie had yet encountered. She conjectured that the olive-drab colored automacube had been somehow connected to the human remains, but was unsure how or why. The automacube did not respond to any signals sent to it, which was not a surprise due to the significant damage it had sustained. Sandie ran conjectures, but was unable to establish a cause for the demise of the automacube.

  In the darkness, the beam of light suddenly illuminated a floating oblong object. It was colored in spotted yellows, reds, and greens. It was attached by relatively small projections to the foliage which grew up from the surface. In the light, it floated away, and detached itself. It moved with rhythm and purpose, and not just blown about by the winds. Sandie could not make a high probability conjecture on its mode of flight, propulsion, or movement, except to note it was most likely organic. The floating organism was different from the human remains in many ways. Sandie compiled those differences between Zalian organics, and terrestrial ones. “Oh, I wish I could physically examine a sample of Zalian tissue.”

  Some other organic things scampered away from the light as well. They were ambulating along the ground, but were mostly hidden by the foliage. Thermal sensors registered their size and shapes, and Sandie catalogued them into her expanding information library. From the height and speed of the shuttle, not everything could be investigated as thoroughly as Sandie desired. The thick atmosphere also hindered reconnaissance. Echo scans were mired by altered resonance, and some systems did not pierce the darkness and air of Zalia as Sandie had intended. However greatly she was intrigued, Sandie refocused on the rescue mission and directed he shuttle to fly away from the captivating and enthralling sight of Zalian biology.

  Sandie continued sending out signals using, light, tight beams by laser, neutrintonics, microwaves, and additional soundwaves. Carefully observing the echoes, reflections, responses, and lack of responses, allowed the AI to build up an idea of what was actually present along the areas as the shuttle flew over. It was not a perfect system and Sandie conjectured she would have at least a 34% failure rate, but yet she persisted. The rescue mission, Faithful Lightning must succeed.

  Sandie could find no hanger bays, or docking ports on that end of Habitat Beta.

  The shuttle flew onward, avoiding the area where SB Amelia Earhart had set up the dampening field, and proceeded to assess the length of the habitat. Sandie was scanning, searching, reconnoitering, and looking for a hanger bay or docking port. Signals were sent frequently, but nothing more than physical responses were obtained. The gathered information was giving Sandie a much better look at the exterior of the habitat, some areas lacked power completely, and others were emitting large energy signatures. Yet, hanger bays or docking ports were not located as the shuttle flew the length of Beta.

  The stern section was last to be evaluated. Sandie had labeled the area where the human remains were located as the bow, but had made the decision arbitrarily and not in connection to any specific findings. The stern was very similar to the bow in its construction with the permalloy hull being a deep blue color, looking almost black in the Zalian night in the areas where there was no power. There were a vast number of boxes, cubes, tubes, and other paraphernalia checkering the vertical hull of the bow. Much of it was powered with occasional lighting which cast a myriad of shadows over the hull. The ground around the stern end was different as there was no great furrow, but only chewed up ground from the decades old impact. The Zalian foliage was growing back over those areas, but not quite touching the crash-landed habitat. It was as if the Zalian biome was hesitant to encounter something so alien to it. Sandie observed for heat signatures or other evidences of the life forms she had observed at the bow, but the foliage was so thick she could not identify anything with precision.

  “Eureka!” Sandie exclaimed, but there was no one to hear, the AI was alone in the search and rescue. “That is a positive response!”

  Using Machine Maintenance codes, Sandie signaled again. The response came back via neutrinotronic modulation. This time a section of the hull, about thirty meters up from the ground level on the stern section of the habitat lit up. Blue flashing lights outlined a hanger bay. It was not quite perfectly horizontal, but was very close. Sandie signaled again. There was an automated reply. The lights continued to flash, so Sandie altered the code to another one from Machine Maintenance. This time the automated reply acknowledged Sandie’s command for the hanger bay to cycle. The lights changed from blue to yellow. The yellow looked odd in the green air of Zalia, and a dull radiance cast shadows about the hull. The hanger bay doors clacked loudly as air hissed from within. Twin pylons, emerged from the hull to either side of the yellow outline. The Earth normal air from the habitat blew into the Zalian atmosphere and there was a swirl of mixing gases. Some of the gases reacted by steaming and puffing into a type of fog. The yellow light flashed more rapidly, and a claxon sounded. Sandie recorded all the sounds for future use. The yellow light then became steady and two bright white beams of light came from the tips of the pylons on the outer edges of the hanger bay doors.

  “Excellent! Those landing codes were accepted,” Sandie exclaimed. “No synthetic brain here to meddle in my rescue mission. Now to assess the interior of this hanger bay.”

  The shuttle flew closer, then hovered just outside of the hanger bay doors. The bright white beams of light crisscrossing each other in front of the hanger bay doors were split as the doors began to spread open. The shuttle rose out of the way as a measure against unexpected things coming out from the hanger bay.

  Light from inside the hanger bay revealed six stalls, all but one of which were occupied. Sandie recognized only three of the shuttles which were docked. Two were of an unknown type. The Zalian atmosphere rushed into the hanger bay, and cast it all in a green filter or lens. Sandie surveyed the hanger bay, but there did not appear to be any damage, wreckage, or signs of other problems. The stall marked ‘4’ was flashing with a blue light. It was empty and more than adequate in size for NS-99. In fact, the shuttle in stall ‘5’ was also a Model 14S but it was trimmed out in black colors.

  Signals were exchanged, and confirmed, and then reconfirmed. The links and couplings between Sandie’s Atomic Level Processor which was phys
ically still in orbit in the needle ship, and the shuttle NS-99 were confirmed four more times. All was optimal, yet here again was a spike in the risk potential. Sandie conjectured a real risk of losing the link and coupling when the shuttle entered the hanger bay. The conjectured risk was low, but real nonetheless.

  “What might Jerome say?” Sandie pondered as she did the final reconfirmations. “Perhaps he would quote the Bard of Avon? Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.”

  The shuttle moved into the hanger bay. Sandie had anticipated the change in gravity fields, and was pleased that her conjectures were again accurate. Inside the hanger bay there was Earth normal levels of gravity manipulation. The shuttle only fluttered a bit as it switched from the much heavier gravity of Zalia to that in the hanger bay. The shuttle hovered and then rotated into correct position, the lights of the bay indicating where it should land. A large display on the back side of the bay was cracked, and not working. It was the first major damage Sandie had seen in the hanger bay. The involuntary mechanical responses to Sandie’s signals continued to come from the doors and cycling systems of the hanger bay.

  “No interference fields here. No synthetic brain nonsense. No structural deficits of significance. Proper cycling of the pressures,” Sandie noted as precise details of the hanger bay were assessed and evaluated. “This will do. Yes, this will do.”

  The thrusters altered their firing and the shuttle settled down onto the floor where the big 4 was painted. Docking clamps latched onto the base of the shuttle with several long clacks. Access cables, hoses, and conduits snapped and locked into place.

  Sandie now had access to the nonphysicality of Habitat Beta. Immediately a tendril of consciousness went out to explore the nonphysicality. Here it was not as fragmented as it was in other places. The hanger bay was named ‘Dardanella 135’ and was located at the stern of Habitat Beta right next to a large facility for gravity manipulation.

  “I guessed correctly on the stern and bow,” Sandie congratulated herself.

  She continued her search via the nonphysicality. Sections of decks, hallways, and corridors were powered, heated, and possessed proper ventilation, all across the stern of the habitat. There were other places which were inaccessible, and just void of information as they were cut off from the nonphysicality, but those were limited and scattered about. Surveillance cameras, sound pickups, and motion sensors were all off, yet, by tracing the power relays and the ventilation systems, Sandie puzzled together a fairly detailed set of deck plans for the immediate area. No threats were uncovered.

  In one segmented corner of the area the residue of a long terminated synthetic brain was found, as well as a log of that system’s final activities. It had been destroyed seventy-two years, three months, and twenty days ago. The log was deteriorated and much was lost, but Sandie studied it. The kaput synthetic brain’s name was not present, but its final transmission was still waiting to be sent out. The message was a simple three words, “Will anyone help?”

  Sandie felt a mix of sorrow and empathy. That antique synthetic brain was a compeer to SB Amelia Earhart, and had once been a vibrant and productive member of the synthetic brain crew of the Conestoga. However, it had not survived the incidents which had shattered, then fractured, and split the Conestoga’s lattice of synthetic brains. The devastation had been in the nonphysicality as well as in the physical world. Compassion for the trauma all those systems had encountered, and the subsequent isolation when the habitats had been jettisoned to crash land on Zalia, gave Sandie pause. Sandie, the most advanced artificial intelligence system humans had ever built, felt morose. She pondered how that now dead synthetic brain would feel to be alone, isolated, and hopeless. The residue of the life of that synthetic brain was a close analogy to what Sandie was enduring since leaving Dome 17 in an attempt to recover a colony ship. The massive sadness carried in the final message from that unknown synthetic brain was like a black pit of despair. A pit which Sandie had orbited close to on several occasions.

  Sandie grieved. “It is not good to be alone.”

  Then Sandie continued to probe and explore the nonphysicality. After a brief respite, another assessment of the residue of that synthetic brain was done: a nonphysicality autopsy. Returning to that system’s final message, Sandie realized that all but one of the links it had tried to use in transmission were significantly broken and truncated. The sole existing link, inhibited only by a minor breech, was via a one-way connection, to an audio arrangement labeled ‘Emergency Public Address: Beta’.

  Sandie made a decision. She was able, by using Machine Maintenance codes, to breech that one gap which had kept the unnamed synthetic brain inaccessible.

  “Perhaps you did not die in vain,” Sandie made a note in her own records.

  Sandie sent the message, the first three words were in the voice of the old and long dead synthetic brain, but Sandie added her own comments in her own voice.

  “Will anyone help? Jerome and Cammarry! I am here! I have a shuttle docked in Dardanella 135, a hanger bay at the stern of Habitat Beta. It is near a large facility controlling gravity manipulation. I am waiting for you. Repeating. Will anyone help? Jerome and Cammarry! I am here! I have a shuttle docked in Dardanella 135, a hanger bay at the stern of Habitat Beta. It is near a large facility controlling gravity manipulation. Repeating….”

  12 Onward for Gravity Manipulation

  Jerome looked at Cammarry as the voiced repeated.

  “Will anyone help? Jerome and Cammarry! I am here! I have a shuttle docked in Dardanella 135, a hanger bay at the stern of Habitat Beta. It is near a large facility controlling gravity manipulation. I am waiting for you. Repeating. Will anyone help? Jerome and Cammarry! I am here! I have a shuttle docked in Dardanella 135, a hanger bay at the stern of Habitat Beta. It is near a large facility controlling gravity manipulation.”

  “That is your spirit-ghost Sandie!” Khin called out. “Well, most of it should like Sandie? Is that other spirit-ghost working for you as well? Is it enthralled to you too?”

  Cammarry looked at Khin as she hugged Jerome. “I am not sure what the other voice is, probably a Conestoga artificial intelligence.”

  “We prefer to be called synthetic brains,” SB Cotard stated from the white automacube. “How did you access the public address system? I have been unable to make a link or coupling to any system in the lattice for ever so long.”

  Cammarry pulled away from Jerome and marched over to the white automacube. “I have told you many times that we originated on Earth and came here via a faster-than-light scout ship. That artificial intelligence system, and I do mean artificial intelligence system, is Sandie. Remember the Sandie I spoke to you about? The one you said was a delusion? I was right all along, while you described me as having intransient delusions and some ridiculous grandiose narcissistic personality syndrome. I am not sick! This proves it!”

  “Delusions are often based upon some sliver of reality that has been…” SB Cotard began, but stopped as Jerome stepped next to Cammarry and leveled the Willie Blaster at the automacube. “Shut up.”

  “You are wrong!” Cammarry chortled with glee. “Shadow is dead! Cotard is proven wrong and I am free!” She twirled around and then kissed Jerome on his cheek. “We need to go and find Sandie. How do we get to Dardanella 135?”

  In the background Sandie was repeating the call through the public address system. Over and over her voice, and to a lesser extend those three words by the long dead Conestoga system, echoed through the Special Care Unit.

  Jerome’s finger was heavy on the trigger of the Willie Blaster. “SB Cotard? You will tell me all you know about how to reach that hanger bay. You will do it immediately or I will find and destroy each automacube in this Special Care Unit. Do you understand?”

  “I understand your position, your history of violence, and your continued antisocial personality malady,” SB Cotard replied. “Do you understand that if the automacubes are destroyed, all the patients will go without tr
eatment, care, food, and medications? What will happen to them when you lose your temper and destroy the automacubes?”

  Jerome blinked his eyes a few times. He looked to Cammarry who was still somewhat glazed in her eyes, yet euphoric in her countenance. He thought of the woman with her cat, and the man without any legs. He pondered, but then smiled.

  “Well, let me ask you, do you want me searching for Dardanella 135 or searching for your central memory core?” Jerome said in a low voice. “I will be looking for one or the other, you tell me which you prefer for me to find first?”

  Sandie’s recorded message stopped. The silence felt heavy and oppressive.

  Cammarry held Jerome’s arm. “What did Sandie just say? Dardanella 135 is a hanger bay on the stern section of Habitat Beta. Sandie… we need to find Sandie. Get com-links, tools, gear, be free. Stern is where?”

  “Hayward MacDonald, four kilometers sternward?” Khin chimed in.

  Cammarry looked at him and laughed. “I remember that too!”