“Firstly, that the ship was on course from Sol to a far distant system, not the other way around.
“Second, that it crashed for an unknown reason. There appeared to be nothing wrong with the drives, so they could only assume it was human, err, excuse me, Humal error.” Vogerian chuckled a little at his own joke before continuing.
“Thirdly, and finally, that the system the ship was travelling to had a designation that, translated from Humal, equates roughly to, Home.”
Hamilton raised his eyebrows. This was getting bigger by the second. “How far away is this system?” he asked.
“My scientists analysed the data. The world on which the ship crashed is roughly fifty light years from Sol. The ship appeared to have travelled only about one fifth of the way along its course. I’m sure you can appreciate the distances involved.”
Hamilton could. He did some quick mental calculations. “A journey to such a distant system would require several months, perhaps as much as a year.”
Vogerian nodded. “With a conventional fusion power source, yes. But the Humal’s used a matter/antimatter power source. Such a journey would be reduced to two months with a power source of that magnitude.”
“But man hasn’t managed to duplicate the containment and reaction processes yet. It would still take us ages to get there.”
“You are quite correct.” Vogerian smiled. “Man in general hasn’t succeeded in controlling the reaction. But my scientists have.”
Hamilton’s eyes widened. “That’s a pretty large claim.”
“But it is true, nonetheless. I mentioned that the drives of the craft my team discovered were undamaged. With those to work on as a guide, my scientists cracked the problems in six months. I’ve already had the blueprints patented and released the information to the scientific community. I anticipate very great royalties from the process. The first Imperial prototype should be produced within a year. They are keeping it quiet, understandably. Of course, I’ve already had a craft built with such a drive.”
“But?” Hamilton prompted.
“But what?” Vogerian said, innocently.
Hamilton smiled. “You’re sitting on a fortune right now, yet you still want to wander off in search of the Humals’ homeworld? My bet is that you discovered other things in that downed ship, other than navigational and technical data.”
“Very good, Mr Hamilton! I knew you were the right choice for this job. It’s true, the matter/antimatter process will make me perhaps the wealthiest man in the galaxy. But, as you surmised, the team found something else within the vessel. Something potentially even more important a find than the m/a process.”
“And that is?” Hamilton inquired.
“An energy to matter converter.”
“That would be quite a find.” Hamilton agreed.
Vogerian nodded. “Yes indeed. Imagine. With my matter/antimatter process to provide the power and a converter, famine could be eliminated. New colonies could be set up and made self-sufficient almost overnight. You could create anything with such a device, providing you had the energy to begin with.”
“I take it, since you’re conceiving this expedition, that the device found aboard the vessel was not working or was damaged in some way.”
“You are correct. It was badly damaged by fire and, furthermore, it appeared as if some components had been removed beforehand. The components missing are, unfortunately, vital to the operation of the unit. We can’t even begin to guess at their design or function.”
“And you’re hoping to find an undamaged unit at the Humal homeworld?” Hamilton said.
Vogerian nodded. “That is correct. I’d say the odds of finding one working unit on an entire planet are quite high.”
“Assuming it is their homeworld.”
“Of course. My analysts are eighty five percent certain of their translation. Even if it turns out not to be their homeworld, it will probably be a site of some significance, or at the very least a site.”
“And as payment, we get a percentage of any profits. Wouldn’t that amount to a very large sum of money?”
Vogerian nodded. “An extraordinary amount. I don’t believe we have discussed this yet. I, as sponsor and organiser of the expedition, get seventy percent of all proceeds. You, and six other leading members, will have twenty percent between you. Just under three percent. The rest of the team get the remaining ten percent between them.”
“How many in the expedition?” Hamilton asked.
“Twenty people.” Vogerian replied. “Myself, Carl, seven key team members and eleven subordinates.”
Hamilton nodded thoughtfully. “You realise that, if the mission is successful, your invention is going to make a lot of people unhappy. it could put entire industries out of business.”
The old man shook his head. “On the contrary. Though the process will undoubtedly ruin many businesses, I think it will prove too expensive to mass market. For one thing, the process requires enormous amounts of energy for even small creations. More even than Einstein’s equations would suggest as it appears a lot of energy is wasted in the process, though where it goes my scientists were unable to determine. It will never become a household item. Ultimately, there may be one in each city, perhaps more for great metropoli, but certainly no more. Larger spacecraft may carry them in place of supplies or spares.”
“But such a device on every planet would effectively eliminate interstellar trade, wouldn’t it?”
Vogerian shrugged. “There are always losers. The smarter ones will adapt.”
Hamilton thought about it for a moment. It was little concern to him what the old man did with his discovery. Sure, people would suffer. But undoubtedly, people would benefit too. Also, Hamilton decided, there was always someone, somewhere, suffering. The money was excellent. Too excellent, Hamilton decided after a moment’s thought. There had to be a catch somewhere. The man couldn’t be that generous. If he were, he wouldn’t have set up this expedition. He would have made his findings public and left the glory to someone else, taking a modest royalty. That he wanted Hamilton to spy on the others was a natural precaution that anyone might take under the circumstances. The temptation for personal profit was enormous. However, Hamilton considered the possibility that, while he was watching others, Vogerian would be up to something underhand. It was, simply, too good to be true. A few more moments thought gave him the realisation that, should Vogerian’s scheme come to fruition and the e-m convertor become reality then Vogerian would effectively be putting himself out of business. What use was money when your needs could be met by pressing a few buttons. Perhaps Vogerian sought to secure the device for himself so that no one would have it. It was all very unlikely and confusing and Hamilton wouldn’t have accepted even the wildest odds that it was all above board.
On the other hand, he reasoned, it had been a slow year so far. This promised to be interesting.
“How many expedition members have you got so far?” he inquired.
“All but three. If you accept, I’ll expect you to pick the other two. They will form part of your security detail.” He smiled at Hamilton.
Hamilton’s unease increased. The man was appealing to his ego. He was clearly saying, Hamilton decided, “I trust you so much I’m going to let you pick ten percent of our force and they’ll be under your direct control.” He was definitely up to something. Hamilton decided he was more intrigued than frightened.
“That’s very generous of you,” he said. “I’ll have to give the matter of my men some thought.”
“Then you have decided to join us?”
“Yes. I must admit, it’s the best deal I’ve had this decade.”
Vogerian smiled. Hamilton could almost hear him thinking “I knew the money would get you.” It wasn’t like Hamilton had any choice but to accept the offer. If even a small amount of what Vogerian was telling him was true, there would be no way the old man would simply let him refuse and walk away with that knowledge.
Hamilton sm
iled back. “When do we leave?”
“As soon as everyone is aboard the ship, which I have named the Hope’s Breath.”
Hamilton thought it was a stupid name, more fitting for an asteroid bar, but he smiled happily. “Is it docked here, or in orbit? Or somewhere else?” Hamilton had never gotten used to referring to ships and other vessels in the feminine. A craft was an object, nothing more. To refer to an object as feminine was to imply that women were objects, possessions. On the other hand, he thought, there were a lot of people who thought just that.
“Somewhere else. We’ll rendezvous with anyone who can’t get here quickly. Needless to say, I’m anxious to be off.”
“Very well,” Hamilton said. “I’m in. I’ll need to use the Stellarnet facilities of this planet. Can you arrange that?”
Vogerian nodded affirmatively.
“Stellarnet takes a day or two to organise. Then, there’s no guarantee that whoever I contact will be available. It might take a few days. That will be costly.”
“It is of no consequence. Take as long as you need, but please try to be quick. I suppose you don’t know anyone locally who you trust and would be interested?”
Hamilton smiled. “Now that you mention it, there may be someone. I’ll check it out. In addition, since I’m in charge of security, I’ll need complete dossiers on every member of the team, yourself and Carl included.”
Vogerian agreed readily. Too readily, Hamilton decided.
The rest of the meeting consisted of Vogerian calling the clerk at the desk to arrange Stellarnet facilities and finalising and signing a contract. Hamilton didn’t take this last too seriously. A piece of paper meant very little when you were in the middle of nowhere with three hundred gram slugs breaking the sound-barrier around your head. It meant even less when its originator was up to no good. Hamilton made a show of examining the remuneration paragraph, but skimmed through the rest seemingly disinterested. He tucked his copy negligently away in his jumpsuit. He would scrutinise it later.
“Well, Mr Hamilton,” Vogerian said as the pair stood at the door to his suite. “I’m glad to have you aboard. Let me know once you’ve arranged your men. I’ll have Carl bring up those dossiers you requested when they come through.”
Hamilton nodded, replacing in his jumpsuit the items Carl had removed. He carefully counted every item as he stowed it away. None were missing. “I’m glad to be aboard. I’ll contact you again, soon. Good bye.”
“Good bye.”
The two shook hands. Vogerian’s grip was even firmer than before. He thinks he’s got me right where he wants me, Hamilton smiled. We’ll have to see about that. He turned and walked towards the elevators.
Vogerian watched him until he disappeared around a bend, a smile on his lips that faded quickly once Hamilton was no longer in sight.
Hamilton didn’t bother to unpack. If Vogerian was up to something then it was entirely possible that he had the room bugged and Hamilton didn’t want him to know the contents of his kit. There were some very interesting, and exotic, items in the bags. Items that would stand him in good stead if Vogerian tried anything later on.
Instead, he considered the mission and its attendant difficulties ignoring, for the moment, Vogerian’s possible treachery.
The items in his bags he considered his own personal gear. He was confident that he was prepared for anything but he would have another two people to equip.
Firstly, he thought about the combat element. Dealing with some greedy scientist wouldn’t be a problem. Vogerian was unlikely to have weapons of any great magnitude aboard his vessel. Probably stunners, needlers and lasers. Stunners would suffice for shipboard operations.
Planetside was a different proposition. On unexplored planets there were untold menaces waiting to devour the unwary. Practically anything was possible. Best to choose something powerful, but simple to use, laser rifles or similar. Perhaps a few grenades as well. Hamilton wondered about the latter. Inexperienced use of grenades often led to major surgery. Still, he thought, provided he kept his men near him the danger should be minimal. Troops, no matter how green, always threw grenades away from themselves. A few cases of assorted types should be sufficient.
In case the planetary atmosphere proved hostile, Hamilton decided to get some masks. Some glare goggles wouldn’t go amiss either. A couple of pairs of all-climate suits and some idiot-proof scanners should be all his men needed to function properly. They’d probably bring their own gear, anyway.
As far as treachery was concerned, Carl seemed the most likely threat. Hamilton glanced at his weapon cases. Either one of those would take care of the Enjun quite neatly. Of course, the Enjun might have serious armaments concealed aboard the Hope’s Breath. Hamilton decided he would find them, if they existed.
At that moment, there was a buzz at the door. Hamilton ambled over and flicked the intercom. “Yeah?”
“It’s Carl. I’ve brought some documents for you.”
Hamilton opened the door and accepted the package from the Enjun. He then returned to the living area and began to peruse the dossiers.
They were printed on quite thick paper. Unusually thick for such materiel. Hamilton made a note to check that out later.
The ship’s complement consisted of Vogerian and Carl. Then there were the seven “key” members. These were Hamilton, a pilot named Veltin O’Won, an astrogator called Alex Philbin, an engineer by the name of Thomas Simmonds, a senior scientist called Cassandra Johnson, the leader of the survey team that discovered the craft, who was called Phillip LeGault and the ship’s medical officer who was named Jack Dyzwiecki.
The eleven subordinates consisted of a co-pilot, astrogator, two engineers, two scientists, two survey team members and a medic, not to mention Hamilton’s two assistants for which there were, obviously, no dossiers. Hamilton gave them a brief glance over. There would be time to investigate them in depth later.
Hamilton got up. He made a more careful, yet still casual, inspection of his suite. He noted possible monitor hiding places, but did not investigate them. Finally, he entered the suite’s bathroom. He started to wash his face, then accidentally dropped the soap to the floor where it accidentally hit his foot and bounced under the sink unit. Hamilton bent and quickly picked it up, glancing under the sink unit as he did so. There was nothing there. It would have been a trifle obvious, he decided.
He glanced around the bathroom, for all the world like a tourist checking out his suite. He casually leaned back against the sink unit, testing it’s strength. The unit was quite secure.
He returned to the lounge area. There didn’t appear to be anything that he could break accidentally. What there was could easily be replaced. He sighed. There was only one thing for it. He’d have to have an accident with one of his items.
He unzipped the side pockets of his jumpsuit and thrust his hands inside, then ambled slowly over to the balcony window. He stood, looking out over the city, for some minutes, idly toying with something in his pocket.
Abruptly, the something started whining croakily. Hamilton jumped back, staring down at his pockets. He withdrew his hands and stared in apparent horror at the item held in his right hand. It was a small metal cylinder, barely an inch in length. A lid at one end was open, revealing a flashing red button inside. He glanced at his left hand. A similarly shaped plastic object lay in it. Hamilton tipped it and scores of tiny tablets fell out.
“Shit!” Hamilton cried, with what he hoped was a convincing display of horror. He threw the metal cylinder at the balcony door. Not unnaturally, since the door was closed, it bounced off and lay nearby, at the foot of the curtains. Hamilton, gasping in mock terror, turned and dove behind the sofa. Seconds later, a small explosion shook the room. Hamilton cautiously poked his head over the sofa.
The balcony door had been destroyed and the curtains flanking it were aflame. A small section of carpet had disappeared entirely, ragged ends smoked ominously. Hamilton rushed over and tore down the curtains, stamping o
n them to put the fire out and did the same for the carpet. Glancing around, he noted the damage elsewhere had been minimal. Well, it had been a very small grenade, after all. His suite’s intercom buzzed insistently.
“Yes?” Hamilton said, pressing the button.
“Are you alright, sir?” the clerk’s voice said. “Our security reports an explosion in your area.”
Hamilton sneered inwardly. Security never worked that quickly. Not, that was, unless it had eyes and ears everywhere. He decided to play it apologetically. “I’m sorry. I appear to have had a little accident. But don’t worry. I’ll pay for all damages. Please send someone up.”
“Yes, sir. Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine. But I’m afraid I’ll need another room.”
CHAPTER THREE
After the inevitable questions, Hamilton was given another room. The management expressed its concern over Hamilton’s equipment but he steadfastly refused to give it up, despite their strongly-voiced opinions that it should go in one of their safe-deposit rooms. In fact, they argued over it for some time before they reached agreement. Hamilton could keep his gear in his new room, but his bags were to be sealed with an electronic lock for which the management had the combination. He was allowed to take certain things out before it was sealed and, in the process, set his own alarm inside. It was a simple light sensor. If anyone opened the bag in anything except total darkness the sensor would register it. It was built into the base of an ammunition clip. Hamilton was a firm believer in being careful.
Once installed in his new room, Hamilton contacted Vogerian and informed him of the room change and the accident which had precipitated it. The old man sounded overly surprised. Hamilton also told him that he was on his way out to check on a possible candidate for the mission. Vogerian wished him luck and told him that the Stellarnet link-up would be ready in the morning.
Humal Sequence 1: A Breath of Hope Page 4