Charlton glanced over the instruments. “She’s seems OK. A bit difficult to tell for sure as she’s still under the influence of the sedatives we gave her. Come back in a couple of hours.”
“OK. I’ll do that.” Hamilton said. He turned and left.
This journey through hyperspace was short, as before, taking only three days.
Nothing of note occurred during this journey, excepting the reawakening of Johnson.
Hamilton went down to see how she was the moment he heard. She greeted him cautiously.
“How are you feeling.” he asked.
She raised her eyebrows. “How am I supposed to feel?”
Hamilton shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Neither do I.”
Hamilton said nothing for a while. This wasn’t getting anywhere. “Has anything like this happened to you before?” he finally asked.
“The doctor’s already asked me all this.”
“Do you remember any of what happened?” Hamilton was determined to get her talking, for no reason that seemed good to him.
She shook her head slowly. “Not really. I remember that when the transit started I just sort of drifted off to sleep.”
“That’s when you started screaming.” Hamilton told her.
“So Billy said. I don’t know,” She frowned. “I seem to remember having a nightmare, but I can’t recall what it was about.”
With a jolt, Hamilton remembered his own traumatic dream. In the nature of dreams he’d completely forgotten it up to now. He’d been too busy with other things.
“Are you OK?” Johnson asked him.
Hamilton snapped out of his reverie instantly. “This nightmare,” he said bluntly. “Did it have anything to do with flying?”
Her eyes widened. “Yes, now that you mention it. But how did you know?”
Hamilton shook his head uncertainly. “I seem to have had a similar dream when I fell unconscious trying to help you.”
“Similar?”
Hamilton shrugged. “Maybe it was the same.”
“But how could you have had the same dream?”
Hamilton shrugged again. “It’s not unknown. Experiments into shared dreams have been going on for centuries. They seemed to have met with some success, but it usually involved lots of electronic gear.”
“Tell me about it.” she demanded. Hamilton did so. Her eyes grew ever wider as he related it.
“It is the same as my dream!” she exclaimed.
Hamilton shrugged. “If you say so.”
“How could we have had the same dream?” she repeated.
Hamilton chuckled. “Maybe you’re telepathic! I know I’m not. I was tested for such abilities when I was a kid. I was rated at zero potential. What about you?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “I don’t think I was tested when they resurrected me.”
“You’d remember it if they did.” Hamilton snorted. “Lots of injections and cards with funny symbols on that you have to draw without seeing, that sort of thing. Ring any bells?”
She shook her head.
“Don’t worry about it. Only one in a billion people develop telepathic powers and only one in every thousand of those become serious psionic talents. So what was your dream like?” he asked.
“My memory is still a little sketchy.” she answered. “But it seems almost identical to yours.” She shook her head in amazement. “You know, I think I was that person you saw in the distance.”
“Perhaps.” Hamilton admitted, guardedly.
“I was.” she reaffirmed, confidently.
“If that’s so, then who, or what, was that evil presence?”
She had no answer.
Hamilton considered the implications of this, latest, development. He was not psionic and, if she wasn’t, then that could only mean that they’d picked up on another’s broadcast.
Someone else aboard the ship was psionic.
The rendezvous point was not in a star system. They emerged from hyperspace in deep space. Hamilton contrived to be on the bridge when they emerged. Vogerian and Carl were there also. Veltin was flying, with Philbin as astrogator. It was cramped in the small area, Survey vessels were seldom spacious, and besides, the bridge was only intended for three people.
Vogerian and Carl stood towards the back of the chamber. Hamilton took up the comms operators’ position. He knew little about ship communications, but it didn’t matter in any event.
“Reading a vessel off the port bow.” Philbin advised. “About three million kilometres.”
“Co-ordinates?” O’Won queried.
“I make it as three one seven by zero three nine.” Philbin replied.
“OK.” Veltin said, turning to look at Vogerian. “Do you want to get closer?”
Vogerian nodded. “Yes. But proceed at a modest velocity. We don’t want the current crew to get itchy fingers.”
Veltin raised his eyebrows and flicked a glance at Hamilton before turning back to his controls.
The ship accelerated so smoothly that Hamilton barely noticed. It appeared that O’Won could fly very well, given sufficient incentive. Hamilton was interested in Vogerian’s comment about itchy trigger fingers. He recalled that when Vogerian had offered him this job he had hinted that the Hope’s Breath was armed. His comment just now seemed to confirm it.
“Let me know when we reach one million kilometres.” Vogerian said.
Despite the seemingly non-existent acceleration, Hamilton knew the ship was travelling at enormous speeds by now. Even so, it took almost an hour to close to the specified distance.
A light began to flash on Hamilton’s console soon afterward. He regarded it uncertainly. “Looks like we’re being hailed.” he observed.
Vogerian walked over. “Yes. That’s expected.” He began to press buttons over Hamilton’s shoulder. Hamilton guessed he was transmitting some kind of code. He memorized the key presses as best he could. It might come in useful sometime.
“You may proceed somewhat more rapidly now.” Vogerian told the pilot.
O’Won, who hadn’t stopped fidgeting at the slow pace they had travelled, grinned and flicked several switches.
The ship lurched forward, causing Vogerian to grab the console swiftly to avoid falling. The old man scowled at the pilot’s back but said nothing.
The remaining distance diminished rapidly. The Hope’s Breath remained invisible except to the scanners. There simply wasn’t any light around to illuminate it.
Hamilton felt the ship decelerate fiercely. He glanced at the overhead view screen.
A star seemed to disappear, then another and another and still another. A dim form began to resolve itself on the screen, blotting out the starlight behind it. It was Vogerian’s starship, the Hope’s Breath.
Their mission was about to begin.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Hope’s Breath was of an unusual design, being a long, thin rectangle.
Most spacecraft tended to cylindrical or flattened spheroid designs, even those that never entered atmosphere. It seemed to appeal to mankind’s aesthetic sense of correctness.
Most spacecraft, whether or not they were intended to enter planetary atmospheres, were also modestly streamlined. Yet another concession to aesthetic sensibilities.
The Hope’s Breath had countless antennae and odd shaped projections sprouting from it. Some of the projections were mounted in turrets, obviously weapons.
Most spacecraft had engines at the rear.
The Hope’s Breath had engines mounted on stubby “wings” that sprang out of the hull about a third of the way back from the stern. There were two nacelles on the port and starboard sides and one each mounted top and bottom for six in all. Each nacelle was of a similar design to the main hull.
Most craft had the bridge either forward or on top of the hull. Some, notably the few warships in service, had their bridges buried away deep inside the hull.
The Hope’s Breath’s bridge was mounted on the unders
ide.
Most vessels didn’t have viewports. Only passenger liners boasted them, though they were usually extremely small. They were considered unnecessary and dangerous, being intrinsically weaker than the surrounding hull. The Hope’s Breath, to Hamilton’s relief, was no exception to this general rule, having no ports that he could detect.
Most vessels were coated in a white or silvery substance. This was not to look good, merely to reflect ambient energy away more efficiently.
The Hope’s Breath was matt black, which accounted for its almost invisible profile.
Most vessels were rarely larger than the survey craft they were on. A few merchantmen and the few liners in existence were larger. Most massed no more than five thousand tons, a few reached ten thousand. Of course, there were stations much larger, but they didn’t have hyperspace capability.
The Hope’s Breath, according to the scanners, massed an enormous seventy five thousand tons.
There were two bulges on either side of the hull, forward of the engines and above the bridge. They were undoubtedly docking bays, but of enormous size. Hamilton considered it quite likely that the survey vessel could have fitted inside either of them.
Hamilton tried to identify the weapon emplacements but most were difficult to detect. The only one he positively identified was a high velocity projectile cannon. It looked fairly small and innocuous against the bulk of the rest of the ship but Hamilton guessed it must fire huge rounds.
All in all, Hamilton decided he was looking at a ship designed for battle rather than exploration.
Under Vogerian’s guidance, Veltin brought the survey vessel in quite close to the monstrous craft. The idea was that they would be shuttled over in the launch in groups of six. that worked out to three trips, not counting the launch crew.
Hamilton decided that he wanted to be one of the first over, so he collected his gear and joined Vogerian, Carl, Veltin, Simmonds and Philbin at the lock. Walsh and LeGault joined them as flight crew.
Hamilton had instructed Jones to come over with the next batch and Klane to accompany the final crossing.
They squeezed aboard the launch and took seats. Hamilton found himself opposite Veltin. The pilot was obviously not used to being a passenger. He twisted in his seat and fidgeted nervously.
The launch shuddered as it left the bay and began the short trip to the Hope’s Breath. It juddered a few times further before settling down to a gentle pace. Veltin frowned nervously.
“Not much fun when your being flown by a careless pilot, is it?” Hamilton inquired.
“You’re right there.” Veltin replied without thinking. Then he scowled and glared at Hamilton as the message sank in, but said nothing further.
Hamilton smiled to himself.
The journey was short and in only a few minutes the launch clanged down onto the landing pad in the starboard docking bay of the Hope’s Breath. That the ship had a landing pad within the bay, rather than a simple lock connection, further indicated its grand scale.
The green light above the launch exit came on swiftly, indicating that the bay had a phenomenal speed of pressurization for such a large space.
Hamilton, who had deliberately sat at the back, was nearest the hatch. He thumbed the switch and waited whilst the door opened and the ramp extended.
Going down, he noticed that the interior lighting of the Hope’s Breath was far more subdued than that of the survey vessel. It had a distinctly reddish cast to it and was quite restful, Hamilton had to admit. On the other hand, it made detail difficult to distinguish - a fact which Hamilton did not like.
He reached the foot of the ramp and looked around.
The interior of the bay was vast seeming after the cramped conditions of the survey vessel. The bay doors through which they had entered were huge, built to allow far larger vessels to pass. The launch itself rested on what was termed the “ready-pad”. In other words, the pad nearest the doors. In the gloomy interior beyond, Hamilton could see several similar vehicles to the launch. A door could dimly be seen on the side of the bay nearest the spine of the craft.
As Hamilton observed, the others emerged from the launch. At almost the same time, the door he had seen opened and five men entered carrying kit-bags.
They marched briskly up to the launch and saluted Vogerian.
“Everything’s ready for you, sir.” The leader said. “All systems are fully operational.”
Vogerian beamed. “Thank you, captain. You’ve done your work well. We won’t need to detain you any further. Please have your men transfer over to the survey vessel we arrived in. It belongs to you now.”
The captain’s eyes widened. “You’re too generous, sir! I couldn’t possibly…”
“I insist, captain.” Vogerian smiled. He produced a sheaf of papers from a pocket and handed them to the man. “You’ve earned it through your dedication and patience.”
“If you insist, sir. I’m honoured.” The captain took the papers and clutched them feverishly. “If you ever need the help of me or my men, don’t hesitate to get in touch.”
“I shan’t.” Vogerian nodded.
The captain turned to his men. “OK you four, get aboard.”
The men shuffled up the ramp. They were all hard, toughened fellows, Hamilton noted, undoubtedly mercenaries. The survey vessel was a handsome payment. No wonder the captain had been shaken by the gift.
The captain put his bag aboard, and then returned to them. “I’ll show you around, if you’d like, sir. I’ll have to wait to fly the launch back, anyhow.”
“Thank you, captain.” Vogerian smiled. “I’d like that, though I ought to know the layout by now. Just show us the main areas.”
The captain’s eyes flicked over the others, assessing. “As you wish, sir.” he replied. “This way.”
He led the way back to the door he had entered through. “I’ll show you your rooms first. That way you can stow your gear.”
They followed him out of the door and then forward along a corridor. The lighting was similar to that in the bay.
“Why so gloomy?” Veltin asked.
The captain shrugged, looking over his shoulder. “It’s fine once you get used to it. You can increase the brightness anyway, if you want to. Once you know your way around it doesn’t make any difference.”
The structure of the corridor was also unusual. Most vessels either concealed their wiring and piping in conduits or just left it all showing. The Hope’s Breath, however, had its wiring overhead and piping below. Both were covered by a metal grillwork that appeared removable in sections. The sides of the corridor, far from being straight, were curved outward and of the same matt black as the hull. Strengthening ribs appeared at regular intervals, as did instrumentation panels. The dim lighting, like the piping and wiring, was situated behind the grills, shining up and down, illuminating the pipes and wires. The whole effect was strange indeed. Strange, and a little eery, Hamilton thought.
They walked briskly along until the corridor opened into a wider section. Doors lined the walls, five to a side.
“This is the first level of accommodation.” The captain said. “The other level is above, reachable by ladder, stairway, ramp or elevator.”
In the centre of the area ramps led down both forward and aft, surrounded by a safety rail. An elevator could be seen at the far end.
“Pick a cabin and dump your gear.” The captain suggested.
Hamilton picked the nearest to the corridor. It was approximately the same size as the cabins on the survey vessel, but only contained one bunk. Even that was larger than normal. After the confines of the survey vessel the Hope’s Breath was like a cathedral. He gave a quick glance around the room, then dumped his baggage on the bunk and returned to the central area.
Others were emerging also. It appeared they were also suitably impressed by the increase of space and privacy.
The captain waited patiently. Hamilton walked over to him.
“A fine ship.” he said.
&
nbsp; The captain grunted.
“Been on board long?”
“Three or four months.”
“Any trouble?”
The captain narrowed his eyes. “What’s it to you?”
“I’m in charge of security, that’s what.”
The captain shrugged, undaunted by Hamilton’s manner. “Nothing much has happened. There was plenty of room for us. No trouble at all.”
“Why’s the ship out in the middle of nowhere?”
“You’d better ask Mr Vogerian that.”
Hamilton decided that wasn’t such a bad idea but, when he looked around for the old man, he was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is he?” he asked.
“Decided to take a cabin on the upper level,” The captain answered. “It’s a little quieter up there.”
Hamilton decided to defer his questions until a more appropriate time.
Vogerian and Carl returned shortly, stepping out of the elevator together. They rejoined the others. The captain then headed towards one of the ramps and went down it. They followed him.
The ramp led down and aft, ending in an area similar to that above. A corridor ran forwards from beside the ramp and another led aft at the far end of the room. An elevator was beside it. Two doors led off from the area. One was labelled “medical”, the other “security”.
Hamilton made his way to the “security” door. It was heavy and operated by a coded keypad. Hamilton prodded the opening button experimentally. Nothing happened.
“Hey,” he called. “What’s the code for this door?”
The captain opened his mouth as if to speak but Vogerian pre-empted him.
“You can explore your section later, Mr Hamilton. I think we should all keep together for now.”
Yeah, sure. Hamilton thought. Don’t want us running off where we’re not supposed to go. We might discover unpleasant things.
The captain then proceeded to point out and show them the other areas of the ship. The bridge was below the security/medical section, reachable by the elevator only. They were allowed only a brief glimpse of it from the elevator. Rearwards of the security/medical area lay the mess and rec areas, above them the central engineering area. Aft of that, via a corridor that ran through the heart of the engines, lay the engineering section.
Humal Sequence 1: A Breath of Hope Page 12