The Salvagers

by John Michael Godier

  At the time when the Victorious crew disappeared, the warship had been in the process of adjusting its position relative to the derelict, so its thrusters were firing. With the crew gone, there was no one left to shut them down. That caused the ship to list away from the derelict until the pressurized and flexible docking tunnel they had strung between them ruptured and tore in half. The mishap set off the Cape Hatteras's automatic air-pressure sensor, something we didn't even know had electrical power, causing the ship to shut its own airlock doors to keep its atmosphere from being sucked out. Expecting that 200-year-old network of safety features to work together flawlessly was like going into a barn and expecting a dead horse to pull a wagon. It was inconceivable that it would still work, yet it did. It also had locked us out.

  The only way to get onboard was either to cut a new hole or to take the welds out from our first entry point. We chose the welds because that option seemed easier. The airtight bulkheads on either side of the corridor were closed, courtesy of those marooned scientists who had hoped that shutting doors might keep the anomaly at bay. Once we gained access, we reasoned that all we'd need to do would be to seal ourselves back inside and make certain that the joint was airtight. Then we would empty a few tanks of pressurized air to fill the corridor. There were at least ten of those stored in the corridor by the engineers. Once we did that, it would be safe to open the bulkheads and take off our helmets. The marines wanted their ears and eyes free from the restraint. If the ring showed up, we'd have to leave through the airlock anyway, so they said we'd have plenty of time to put our helmets back on during the cycle. I didn't believe a word of it, but I went along with the plan.

  I was able to cut into the ship with surprisingly little trouble. I simply made a small hole in one of the weld joints and moved out of its way. The air escaped fast enough to cut most of the rest of the bead loose.

  The real problem I had was in sealing it shut and closing us in. My son might be a great welder, but I am not, so it took me a lot longer to close up the ship than it should have. None of the jarheads knew what to do, and by the time I had finished they were impatient and cranky. When I finally was done, they released the air from the tanks and opened the bulkhead door. We all took off our helmets at the same time. It was at this point that I expected they'd shoot me and get down to Westmoreland's work, whatever that really was.

  "Where do we begin?" I asked, hoping that one of them had some kind of knowledge about what exactly we were looking for.

  "Odd movement," Sergeant Chen replied. He produced a handheld device that could have only come from Titan.

  "One of Dr. Westmoreland's toys?"

  "Bingo, genius. We're supposed to move through the ship with this thing and look for any kind of deviation in the readings. It's your junkyard. Where should we go?"

  "I'd suggest engineering. That's where the thing was when we first came onboard. After that I'm told it moved around the ship. We'd have to ask the scientists on the Hyperion about specifics."

  I knew they'd check the entire ship anyway. I still wanted to try to get some of my specialists onboard if I could, if for no other reason than to serve as a deterrent against foul play, but they ignored my suggestion. We moved through the corridors slowly, Chen waving his detector back and forth. I noticed the pitch of his voice rising about halfway down the enclosed promenade. I remembered that we'd equalized the pressure in the redundant rooms with helium. Obviously one of them had leaked when I depressurized the corridor.

  We passed through the cavernous cargo hold. The last few bars of gold had been moved to the Hyperion during the evacuation, and now it was just an open space with nothing in it but a few pieces of leftover mining equipment. The prospectors on 974-Bernhard had reused the original drilling platform from the mission. I remember marveling at it on my earlier visit because it was a tangible piece of the legend. My feelings were so different then. Despite the fact that I was standing on the famous wreck, I couldn't wait until this adventure was over. I wanted the ship safely in lunar orbit as a museum and the gold in the bank. I also wanted to forget that the anomaly had ever existed.

  We made our way to the engine room, where I paused to examine the door. I wanted to make absolutely certain that there were no flickers of glowing blue light. There wasn't a trace. The engineering section was brightly illuminated with normal lighting, and a few of the panels were giving figures for the reactor we had repaired. It didn't seem like the room of dread it had been.

  We moved from room to room through the engineering compartment. Chen seemed disappointed: his needle didn't so much as move a tenth of a millimeter. We then moved through the corridors again, stopping at each sealed door on the ship and trying to find something. By the end of our tour we were joking that we wished the damned anomaly would show up and take someone so we'd know whether the detector was working. So much helium had leaked into the atmosphere that we were all talking funny by that stage, and the air seemed as thin as that on a mountain top. It was not a problem, though. The atmospheric controls of the ship had been repaired by the marooned engineers, and it would be only a few hours more before the scrubbers and pumps returned the air to normal.

  The last room we checked was Captain Nelson's quarters. I'd never been in there. Sanjay had inspected it briefly but left it pristine to ensure that his colleagues could methodically record later everything that was in it. I had deferred to them, but I admit that I'd always wanted to take a look. This was where Nelson had lived and spent his nights while running the Cape Hatteras, much as I did on my own ship, mulling over the day's activities and wondering what to do next.

  At last I'd finally get a look. It was a disappointment. There were no secret handwritten journals, no cache of information about what had happened to him. He seems to have lived simply, though I guess that's no surprise—I did too. There was just one thing of interest in the room: his desk was covered with geological samples. I assumed that they were the rocks Westmoreland wanted, so I collected them up before stopping for a moment to examine one. They were crystals, black as coal and extremely heavy for their size. They had a sheen like cut onyx but were soft and seemed as though they might crumble if I applied too much pressure. I'd never seen anything like them before. They didn't register on the meter at all, but I assumed that Westmoreland would want to see them. I shrugged and put them in a box.

  After a full eight hours on that ship, five tired men returned to the Portsmouth. It was nearly a full day since the Victorious had disappeared, and the mood onboard had improved. The crew was acting calmer and less confused, and the command structure seemed to be working again.

  I had a quiet dinner with the Captain and Westmoreland. There wasn't much to say. We had found nothing with the detector, and there wasn't anything we could have done about it if we had. Westmoreland then broke the silence like an exploding fuel tank.

  "We should tow the Cape Hatteras to Titan," he said. He knew full well that I'd go ballistic.

  "I'd sooner cut off my own foot!" I exclaimed. "Why don't we just tow it to Earth? That's where I was going with it anyway, and that's where all your admirals and scientists are."

  "My laboratory isn't on Earth. If we're going to learn about the foothold, we'll need my full equipment and resources."

  "The foothold? Now there's a loaded word. I get the feeling you've been studying this phenomenon for a while."

  He sighed before glancing at me. "Yes, as had my predecessors. We've been studying the anomaly for many years, Captain Hunter, longer than you've been alive. Officially it's called Project Halcyon."

  "I thought you said we barely knew anything about it."

  "That's true. We don't understand much at all, considering the time that's been spent on the project."

  Surprisingly, the Captain wasn't interfering in the conversation. He was simply staring blankly at a light fixture.

  "Captain, how are my ships?" I asked, just to make sure he was alright.

  "I've ordered them to take a position ne
arby but not too close. Your Hyperion has full engine power restored. I have to be clear, though: distance may not offer safety from the anomaly. In the event something else happens, it would be better if they were close to my weapons but still far enough away in case the anomaly comes back. That's assuming the Portsmouth will be the next target."

  "I'm sure you'll also want to keep your weapons locked on my derelict and my fleet," I said. "Don't think I didn't notice that."

  "That too," he said, still looking at the fixture.

  "Why the paranoia? We aren't going to do anything," I said, as he redirected his gaze toward me.

  "You've got a lot of gold on that ship, Mr. Hunter. You've already had a mutiny and two theft attempts. I'd have thought you would appreciate the free security that a Poseidon cruiser can provide. When all is said and done, I may even escort you back to Earth. For free."

  I hadn't thought of it like that. I felt a little embarrassed, so I changed the subject.

  "Dr. Westmoreland, you said that the crew were found on the asteroid. What had they been doing?"

  "They had taken shelter in a cave. It had collapsed by the time the UNAG fact-finding mission reached them, but they dug it out, recovered the bodies, and then sealed the cavern again."

  "How did they seal it?"

  "Bombardment from orbit, as I recall."

  "Why seal it? Why not leave it as it was?"

  "Same reason you'd seal an abandoned well. If anyone went back there, like those prospectors who were working the asteroid, they didn't want anyone hurt if they ever ventured to the stony side of Walton's Rock."

  He appeared a little uncomfortable. I wondered whether I had struck a nerve.

  "There was something in there, wasn't there?"

  "No, Captain Hunter, there wasn't. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

  "Those crystals came from that cave, didn't they? They are important."

  Dr. Westmoreland didn’t answer but simply left the room. He usually shared information freely, but not now. Maybe I had outlived my usefulness, and there no longer was any reason to dangle carrots.

  I sat with the Captain in awkward silence. He had gone back to concentrating on his meal, and I tried to focus on finishing my own. I was relieved when another officer appeared.

  "Mr. Hunter, Captain, you're both needed on the bridge."

  "On my way," the Captain said as he left the room like a racer hearing a starting gun.

  "Why?" I asked as the officer and I shot toward the bridge.

  "The Hyperion has contacted us. Someone's disappeared."

  Chapter 22 Home

  "December 23, 2259. 0800 hours. Log of Captain John Andrew Nelson, Commanding Officer, UNAG Mining Vessel Cape Hatteras. I have had to expend a great deal of fuel to maintain my orbit. I have confirmed the reason why: the asteroid's gravity has increased. There is no other explanation; no other known mechanism in the laws of physics could cause it. Yet, it is physically impossible.

  I have no contact with my men on the surface. I do not know how the increased gravity will affect them. I cannot help them. The crystals are important. They seem to be growing, gaining mass through an unknown process. It could be related to the gravity. I feel ill, unclear, and very tired. I sense there is someone here with me, but I know there is no one."

  I was relieved to get off that warship. I couldn't take any more of Dr. Westmoreland and the Captain of the Portsmouth's double talk, and frankly they both had become outright strange. I couldn't tell what parts of the picture were misinformation and what parts were the truth. I returned to the salvor first. At least there everything made sense. For all the faults of Dr. Webb and his team, they spoke openly and candidly.

  I was greeted in the Hyperion's airlock by my ex-wife. Seeing her was a pleasure, which was a conflicted feeling to be sure, because I was seeing the first honestly readable face in days. I could tell from her expression that things were not well on the ship.

  "We lost someone, Cam," Janet said.

  "Are you certain? Have you searched the ship?"

  "Yes, and we know where he was. It had to be the anomaly again."

  "Who was it?"

  She hesitated. "It was Sanjay Maheshtra."

  I experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. This wasn't someone I barely knew. It was Sanjay Maheshtra, someone I had grown close to and liked.

  "What happened?" I asked.

  "He'd gone off duty after finishing an analysis of the archeological placement of some objects on the derelict. He was alone for less than an hour before another crewman stopped by his quarters to drop off his laundry and found him missing."

  "You searched the entire ship stem to stern?"

  She didn't answer but just darted the usual look she gives me when I say something ridiculous.

  "Still, we'll need to do a second search. I want to be very thorough before I inform Dr. Westmoreland. If I don't, he'll want to send a crew of his own over here to investigate. I'd like to keep the military off our ships as much as possible. Hopefully, a solid report will satisfy him."

  I was being only half truthful. I hoped we'd find Sanjay alive and well, perhaps reading in some remote part of the ship. You do that out of shock, grasping at straws and praying that the news you've been given is somehow wrong. I didn't want to alarm Janet, but the other thing left unsaid was that a boarding crew would probably be made up of soldiers, and they would not leave their arms behind. Soldiers on my ships meant that they could seize control of them, using whatever excuse UNAG devised. We would have no way of stopping them. I trusted Westmoreland to at least be civil, but I didn't trust the Captain at all.

  Janet was hard at work, hoping to get more of the Cape Hatteras's systems running, and wanted to get back to it. That left me alone in one of the two main halls of the salvor. I looked out the gallery windows that ran down the corridor. From that vantage point I could see all members of the fleet. It was a minor comfort to see our ships together again with the derelict, but I longed to get back to the Amaranth Sun. I hadn't talked with my crew in two days, and as much as I wanted to share my wealth of new information with the academicians, I felt that the time was not yet right. If I kept my mouth shut, I might prove my trustworthiness to Westmoreland and the Captain, such that they would be more forthcoming.

  I stayed on the salvor long enough to supervise the search. Sanjay was nowhere to be found. I dutifully sent my report to Westmoreland, but I went much further than simply telling him about the disappearance. I included a very detailed account of my hallucinations up to that point, especially those on the Victorious. He'd asked me about them before, so if anyone would understand and not think I was crazy, it was he. Westmoreland didn't personally come over to the Hyperion, but he did send two officers to check things out. I was pleasantly surprised: they were unarmed and left quickly. My respect for Westmoreland rose again, albeit slightly.

  Another surprise came in the form of a progress update he sent. I suppose he felt obligated after receiving mine. He and the Captain had been busy with devising a way to tow the Cape Hatteras to Titan. It seemed workable, but nothing would make me enthusiastic about the idea. I had to face reality: at least until that disappearance business was solved, I needed the authorities more than they needed me. Without them we would be at the mercy of whatever it was we were dealing with.

  I reluctantly endorsed the plan. Early the next day the Portsmouth took the derelict in tow, and our little fleet charted a course for Saturn's largest moon, Titan.

  I was preparing to return to the Amaranth Sun when Janet returned and pulled me aside. "Cam, there's another matter," she said. "Our week on the derelict gave me plenty of time to look at the logs."

  I still hadn't had a chance to see them. One of the things I did on the Hyperion was to transfer copies to the Amaranth Sun so I could finally read them.

  "What did you find?"

  "Cam, Nelson went crazy. He abandoned his men on the asteroid. The last ten or so communications he recei
ved were pleas for rescue, but he ignored them all. He just kept talking about some kind of crystals in the geological samples and how important they were. He kept assuming that his crew was dead, even while his communications panels were lit up with messages from them. It's all damned odd."

  "I found the samples in his quarters. Westmoreland has them now. Not very interesting crystals, if you ask me, just dirty black things."

  "Do they have anything to do with the disappearances?"

  "He doesn't know, and I'm sworn to secrecy. I can't really say much else."

  "Well, going nuts is one thing, but there was no corpse. Do you think the phenomenon might have been manipulating him and then made him disappear like our people?" she asked.

  "We don't know that it did. He could simply have shot himself out an airlock. Crazy people do crazy things. Look, I promise to tell you more just as soon as I can," I said.

  She wasn't happy with that, but it's not as though she'd have told me what she knew if I were in her position. When I finally got back to the Amaranth Sun, the ship was a hornet's nest. Not one person there was any happier with me than my ex-wife was. All they'd heard from me in days were relayed messages from the Portsmouth, along with orders to go here and there without any explanation, and not a word about why that huge warship disappeared into a hole with a blue ring around it.

  "Where the hell have you been?" Stacey asked angrily.

  "Busy!" I said. "And do I have a story for you!" I might not tell the academicians what I knew, but I could tell my own crew some of it. They were my family and best friends whom I trusted them implicitly. Telling them would also divert my attention from Sanjay's death.