by Jemma Chase
There were controls – buttons, levers, switches – along the ceiling and the sides of this cockpit. She could see how current spacecraft had evolved from this one, but this one was much more complex, every action spelled out in the controls.
“They managed to fly with this level of tech?” Helene asked as Bin ran his metal hands over the controls. “It makes me feel much better about the Searcher than ever before.”
“Yes. The human spirit is impressive. And, for the time, this was quite advanced. Autopilot systems share that external damages appear slight. Internal structure seems sound – this glass is not cracked, I detect no signs of hull breach, no matter how slight.”
“Can you hook into this ship’s computer? I don’t want to drain our ship’s power, but light would be helpful.”
Bin was quiet for a few long minutes. “I’ve analyzed this system, and the answer is no. Spacecraft such as this ran on fuel, not self-generating power packs. The technology is so far behind ours that we would cause our own ship harm even trying to connect. And since we’ll have to tow this back, we can’t afford the energy waste.”
Helene sighed. “I didn’t expect a better answer. I would have liked one, mind you. Any chance we can access the ship’s log?”
“No, not without turning it back on. But…”
“But?”
“I can’t find the distress beacon. There is one here, but it’s not activated.”
“Well then, let’s do a fast search for the beacon’s source as well as cataloging everything that’s on this derelict, attach towing cables, and head for Earth.”
They floated from room to room, the only sounds the ones they made. Bin might not have been the newest robot, but he was very good with cataloging quickly and accurately. Not that there was much to catalog.
“Who goes into space with nothing?” Helene asked, as they finished inventory on the last of the eight berths.
“Robots such as myself could.”
“But wouldn’t they be here, waiting?”
“Presumably. I am confused just as you are. No reading matter seems…odd.”
“No clothing seems odder.”
They entered the galley. It was the first place where actual signs of life existed, albeit faint signs. The cutlery, cups and plates were all put away, service for eight. The table had eight chairs, four on each side, all shoved in and neat. Everything was very neat.
“I’m leaning towards robots,” Helene said. “This room is very…precise.”
“Everything has been precise,” Bin agreed. “However, robots don’t need to eat.” He held the pantry door open – there were a variety of canisters. Flour, sugar, yeast, and other staples, along with a wide array of hydrogenated foods.
“So where are the crew? Could they have turned to dust after all this time?”
“Unlikely. In ancient times, skeletons were found after thousands of years. If they were on board, we should find signs of them. Perhaps in the engine or the hold.”
“Lead on.” Helene opened the last drawer near her. Empty. No, not quite. There was something shoved way in the back “Wait.” She pulled out a small book. “I’ve found the ship’s log.”
“What does it say?”
She opened it and sighed. “I can’t read it. I don’t know what language it’s in.”
Bin came and took the book. “Hmmm. It’s not Old English, nor Old Chinese, nor any of the other main languages from pre-expansion times. I’ll run a recognition protocol while we check the engine room.”
“Good. Be careful of the log, though. It could be worth as much as the ship.”
Helene led so that Bin could focus on inputting the ship’s log. Why it had been shoved into a drawer made no sense. Then again, so far, nothing about this derelict made sense.
They crawled down the shaft that led from the galley to the lower level and exited the shaft in the engine room. What Helene understood about rocket engines wouldn’t have filled the first page of their ancient notebook, but it was clear this engine was turned off. She looked for signs of breakage. “Bin, am I wrong in thinking there’s nothing broken here?”
“Not so far as I can tell. It seems as though this vessel merely ran out of power and has been floating through space since then.”
“Was it leaving Earth or coming back?”
“Based on its position when found, and presuming it hasn’t been knocked off course by asteroids or similar, leaving.”
“Heading for what? There’s nothing out here but the blackness of deep space. And there’s no way anyone back then was foolish enough to send a vessel like this into the deep, was there?”
“Unlikely. Manned pre-expansion vessels were used to explore Earth’s solar system, not go beyond. I’m done with the engine. If we had sufficient and correct power sources, I believe it would be space-worthy.”
“On to the hold, then. And then we can get off this undead thing.”
“Undead?”
“There’s no life on board, but the ship doesn’t feel dead to me. It’s not a normal derelict, and it’s abnormally quiet and tidy.”
“Is the stillness bothering you?”
“In a way. I feel like…this ship has been here waiting. But for what?”
“Perhaps for us. To bring it home and therefore back to life.”
“Bin, you’re a romantic.”
“In my own robotic way, I suppose I am.” Bin looked around. “I see no escape pods.”
“Could they have been used?”
“Perhaps, but so far, I see no sign of where they could have been, or a door that would lead to an external pod.”
They reached the hold. It was empty other than for eight crates, sitting neatly side by side in the exact center. “Could these crates hold the belongings of each of the crew?”
“We may not be able to tell. There are no handholds that will allow us to reach the crates. We either need to try to float to them, or use the magnetization in our feet. And, before you protest, I know you’re concerned about said magnetization harming the vessel. I agree.”
“So, we float? Or we mark the boxes and go home?”
“I suppose one pass won’t hurt. The hold is not so large that we won’t bump into a convenient wall within a few moments.”
Helene shoved off, pointing herself towards the nearest crate. She’d aimed well and caught the side. “That was easy.”
Bin joined her. “Yes. Unsurprisingly, these crates are marked in the same language as the log.”
“Can you read it yet?”
“No, still trying to find a linguistic match.”
“No symbols. Meaning no way for us to guess if the contents are dangerous or benign.” Helene ran her gloved hand over the boxes. “These are made from wood, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they appear to be pine.”
“That means this is from Earth, then, doesn’t it?”
“Presumably.”
Helene moved carefully along the boxes, holding onto the sides. “They’re all the same size, about seven feet in length, four feet high, and about three feet wide.” She wanted to open one, but resisted the impulse. Just because she expected to find these crates empty didn’t mean they weren’t rigged with something.
“Three inches in between each box,” Bin added.
The perfection of everything inside the ship moved from a minor worry to a full-fledged concern. “Bin, everything’s too perfectly placed. There’s nothing holding these boxes in these positions. They’d shift in travel, especially in a hold this empty.”
Bin was quiet for a long moment. “True. I’ve never seen humans achieve this level of perfection.”
“We can do it whenever an inspection’s looming, or company is coming.”
“While we could be considered company, there is no one on board to prep for our unexpected arrival. Oh, I have determined that the distress beacon is coming from one of the crates.”
The feeling of being watched, of not being alone, or worse, hit Helene. �
��Back to the Searcher, right now. As fast as you can.”
Bin didn’t argue. Whether he had the same fears she did, or whether the tone of her voice was enough, he merely nodded. They both shoved off the crates and headed for a wall. The few seconds of floating, where there was nothing solid to hang onto, when she was sure there was something nearby waiting to harm them, were the longest of Helene’s life since the sentencing that had imprisoned Ric for crimes he hadn’t committed.
Bin reached a handhold first, caught her, and then they both moved, hand over hand, as fast as they could. There was still nothing and no one as they moved their fastest, and yet still far too slowly, through the belly of this ship, up into the galley, and along the corridor between the empty berths.
After what seemed like years but was really less than five minutes, they reached the airlock. The connecting equipment appeared to still be connected. “Are we still attached to the Searcher?” Helene asked softly, just to be sure.
“Yes.” Bin took her hand. “I don’t want us separating.”
“What are you picking up?”
“Your terror. Humans are still animals, and animals have instincts. Fear is one of the instincts that man has never truly bred out, regardless of intellectual advancement, for a reason.”
Sister.
“Did you say something?”
“No.” Bin looked at her. “I heard nothing, either.”
Sister, do not leave us. We have waited for you for so long.
“Bin, something’s talking to me.” The voice didn’t sound human.
Come back, sister, and set us free, so we may set you free. Voices. Not one voice, but several, all speaking at once.
“Autopilot says the distress beacon has increased in intensity.”
“How would that be possible?”
“Perhaps this ship is taking power from the Searcher.” Bin pulled her along, hit the Searcher’s outer door. It opened and he flung them both inside.
Sister, your unliving companion takes you from us, the voice in her head wailed. Come back! Do not leave us! You are our last hope and we are yours. You know your enemies will never truly set you free.
Bin pressed the controls to open the inner door the moment the pressure was deemed safe, and again pulled Helene through.
Sister! You must know the truth. The one you love is lost to you forever. He was not as strong as you are, sister, and he is gone. Do not leave us behind, sister. We will help you, you are one of us – unjustly sentenced, unjustly served.
“Bin, why are you running like the devil’s on your tail?”
“Autopilot has managed to identify enough letters to come up with the name of the ship we just left, and based on the log, I have translated. We need to disengage and leave this derelict as fast as possible.” He headed them for the bridge, not letting go of Helene’s hand. His grip was so tight she doubted she could pull away without losing at least her fingers.
“Why?”
“It’s the Pandora’s Box. Records indicate the crates contain living biological weapons, created to fight a great war. Someone managed to contain them and load them onto the Pandora’s Box. A crew of eight manned the Pandora’s Box but they were followed into space by a larger vessel. Once they were past the asteroid belt, the Pandora’s Box crew set the ship’s autopilot for the black of deep space, exited, and were collected by their companion vessel. That ship was intentionally sent to the black, and it should stay here.”
They reached the bridge and Helene looked at the Pandora’s Box. It was still attached to the Searcher. Bin reached to trigger the release of the connectors.
“Wait.” A flashing message light caught Helene’s eye.
He turned his head. His eyes were still sending out light, and Helene winced, then turned off her helmet light. Bin seemed to realize his eyes were still “on” and they dimmed back to their normal glow. “Wait for what? We are in grave danger.”
“I want to know what message is waiting before we do anything else. Besides, we’re not in danger. You’re not, because biological weapons can’t hurt you. Can they?”
“No. Records indicate that the weapons in that ship were designed to kill humans, not to harm robots.” Bin turned towards the flashing light. “Retrieve message.”
The sound crackled. “Long range transmission for captain and indentured human, Helene Raylon of scavenger vessel Searcher. Regret to inform you that your mate, convicted criminal and human Ricardo Raylon, has died after a long illness. Body has been cremated to avoid spread of illness among other prisoners. You may retrieve ashes when you return to Earth.”
Bin put his arm around her shoulders and held her and the message repeated itself several times, in case Helene hadn’t caught on that her only reason for going on was dead. “They cremated him.” She’d never see Ric again, in life or death. The last holographic was all she’d have for the rest of her life.
“I’m so very sorry.”
She wanted to cry. No. She wanted something else. Information. “Bin, can you or the autopilot determine when this message was sent to us?”
“Yes.” Bin was quiet for about a minute. “The message was sent via the slowest transmission speeds possible. I believe it was transmitted shortly after our last salvage return to Earth. It was not sent through the Salvage system, but through the Prison system, and via a very old, rarely used, and even more rarely monitored channel. Based on this and other data, I would say that Salvage is unaware that this death notice was sent. The main Prison sector may be unaware, as well.”
Someone at the Prison had cared, albeit in a very dispassionate, cold way. But they’d told her the truth. And found a way to get the truth to her, through unused channels, to ensure the truth would reach her. So, maybe not dispassionate or even cold. Maybe the right word was determined.
“So the Administrator lied to me.”
“Yes. I was not advised of this, Helene. I would never lie to you, especially about something so important.”
“I know.” She did. Bin had been nothing but loyal to her. Bin was the only thing that had made the last three years even partly bearable. “They told me he was gone.”
“Who?”
“The voices in my head. And…they called me ‘sister’.”
“It’s not an uncommon form of address, especially for the age that ship is from.”
“They said…they said that they knew I would never be free.”
“I would imagine they would say anything. However, based on this transmission, I believe they may be correct. It’s worrisome that they would know Ric was dead. It would seem impossible.”
“Maybe they heard the message come through somehow. Maybe they just understand what we’re dealing with. Maybe they’re just that powerful. They’re living weapons, you said.”
“Yes. Deadly. The most virulent mankind could devise, and man’s mind is quite devious.”
Helene considered her next words carefully. “Bin…why are you on this ship with me?”
“I am assigned to this duty for the rest of my existence.”
“Whether you want it or not?”
“Yes. Robots are rarely given a choice of assignments.”
“What did, or didn’t, you do to get this particular duty?”
“I am an older model, no longer considered impressive. All models such as myself move into the more dangerous jobs. That way, if we are destroyed, the loss is less.”
“To Earth. But the loss to you is the same as the loss to me – you’ll cease to exist.”
“This is true.”
“Why are you loyal to Earth?”
Bin was quiet for a long moment. “Because without purpose I will also cease to exist. I would just be a machine with nothing to do.” He looked at the Pandora’s Box. “I would be a derelict, adrift and alone.” Bin looked back at her. “I am loyal to you, Helene, much more than Earth. You wish to release the worst mankind could devise upon your oppressors, don’t you?”
“Can you blame me?�
�
“No.”
“If I choose this course, what will you do?”
Bin still had his arm around her. He took one of her hands in his free one. “Where you go, I will go. What you choose to do, I will support.”
“This won’t go against your programming?”
“No. When I was assigned to Salvage my programming was altered to show salvage as being more important than human life.”
“But you’ve protected me for all this time.”
“I am able to circumvent that programming, when I choose to. One of my many glitches.”
Helene looked at the Pandora’s Box. What will you do to us?
To you and your companion? We will set both of you free. Not as your love was set free. We will make you as we are. Then we will find your brothers and sisters, the others who toil to save those long dead. And then we will wreak vengeance on those who sentenced us all to a fate much worse than death.
How do I know I can trust you?
What alternatives do you have?
Administrator Brennan smiled at Warden Smith. “We have word from Helene. She’s on her way to Earth, bringing back quite a find.”
“Enough to free her husband?” Smith asked with a snicker.
“Oh, I’m sure not. Close, but he’ll have committed some minor infraction and what with the recent terrible inflation…well, she’ll be back out there soon enough.” Brennan leaned back in his chair, feeling well satisfied. “This find will move me into Control, and decently high up, as well. I’ll be recommending you for my position.”
Smith nodded. “Thank you. Being Warden’s an easy enough job. I’m sure I can find someone worthy who can preside over the gas chamber.”
“What happened to that young man you were grooming for the job?”
“Young Elpis? He had the gall to think prisoners could be reformed and the temerity to actually try to send death notices to their next of kin. No worries about him – his ashes are in the storeroom, next to all the others.”
“Good.” Brennan beamed. “So now, all we have is the waiting, and the glory that will come when Helene returns with her find.”