The Agathon: Book One

by Weldon, Colin

  “No sign of anything, Doctor?” she asked, looking at the floor while putting on her jumpsuit.

  “Not a thing.” She looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “What should I be looking for, Carrie?” Carrie finished getting dressed, then turned to Brubaker.

  “Nothing. I’m a little paranoid, that’s all.”

  “Right,” Brubaker said frowning.

  “Carrie, everything you say to me stays between you and me. You know that, right? Just because there aren’t that many of us left doesn’t mean all our rules are thrown out the airlock. If you have something to tell me, just tell me.” Carrie thought about it for moment.

  “Did you find any residual electrical activity anywhere in my body?” Brubaker leaned back her chair and put her fingers through her hair.

  “What kind of electrical activity. Static? Your neurological bio chemistry is completely normal, Carrie.”

  “I have been getting mild shocks, that’s all.” Brubaker stood up and took a small handheld medical device from a drawer. She began moving the multi-coloured cylinder around Carrie’s head.

  “When did they start?” she asked, watching the readouts on the wall carefully.

  “A few weeks ago. Before we left Mars.”

  Brubaker frowned. “Hmm,” she said. “Tell me about them.” Carrie thought for a moment about telling her everything but she couldn’t have her father worrying needlessly. There are bolts of lightning firing out of my fingertips!

  “It feels like a static shock. Might be caused by excess build-up of charged particles on the inside of the lab walls. Doctor Tyrell and I have been running a lot of high-powered experiments, trying to boost the range of The Agathon’s stellar cartography abilities.” Brubaker looked deep into her blue eyes.

  “I’ll take some readings of the lab later on to make sure there’s no residual charge,” she said. Carrie stopped her train of thought.

  “That’s okay, Doctor. I can take those readings myself. I don’t think Tyrell would be too pleased with others poking around the lab. He’s quite particular about that.”

  “I bet he is,” said Brubaker. “If it happens again I want you to come see me immediately.” She finished up her scan and sat back in the chair.

  “Everything else going okay for you? How are you holding up with all of this?” Carrie hadn’t been asked that directly by anyone as of yet and the question took her by surprise.

  “As well as anyone else on the ship, I suppose.”

  “Ha,” responded Brubaker, rubbing her face. She had clearly not gotten any sleep lately.

  “Some are not handling it well at all,” she said, straightening herself. “Poor Bobby Shields hasn’t left his quarters since he boarded. I have to bring him his meals every day or he’ll starve to death. Poor kid is scared out of his mind.”

  “Understandable,” said Carrie. She stretched out her thoughts and felt Bobby’s terror for an instant before recoiling.

  “You have a very strong head on you, Carrie.”

  “My mother’s, I think,” she responded.

  “Your mother was bull-headed. She was a great scientist but leaped before she looked. Don’t you make that mistake. Wherever we end up on this flying bullet, you make sure you keep your senses.” She gave her a friendly tap on the shoulder. “Now what’s this I hear about a DNA fragment?” she added, smiling.

  “It’s a small ship,” Carrie said.

  “That it is,” Brubaker said.

  “If you are free, Doctor Meridian would like you to take a look at it today. We need a report to my father by first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Let me finish up with some patients and I’ll be right there,” she replied with a friendly smile. “How is your father doing, by the way?” she asked.

  “My father is my father. If he could lift the universe up on his shoulders, he would,” Carrie said.

  “Do me a favour?” Brubaker asked.

  “Keep an eye on him?” Carrie finished. The doctor smiled and nodded.

  “Burdens of command can isolate and he’s not the most forthcoming man about his stresses. He has no love of doctors.” She paused and looked at Carrie. “Unfortunately.” Carrie nodded.

  “I will, Doctor, thank you for your concern.” She began to leave.

  “Carrie, might do you good to get some exercise if you are in that lab all day long. Cargo bay one makes for a great running track. It’s good for the heart.”

  “Thank you, Doctor, I’ll do that.”

  Carrie left the medical bay and made her way to Tyrell’s lab. The low hum of the ship quietly filled her ears. She walked past a number of people as they went about their daily duties. Some of them she recognised. Others she had never met, having transferred in from one of the Jycorp stations. She smiled and nodded at the colonists as she walked past. They were afraid. Their uncertain faces told her stories of loss and hopelessness. The air was tense in the corridors. The psychological profiles of those who chose a life off world usually included a healthy sense of adventure and appetite for risk, but nothing came close to preparing them for something like this.

  “Hey, Carrie,” came a young male voice. She turned and greeted Sam Reynolds, a mechanical engineer from Dallas, Texas. At five foot eight he was a stocky twenty-nine-year-old, who had spent most of his time at Atmo One running maintenance on the atmospheric regulators. He had a thick black beard and always seemed to be covered in some sort of grease or oil. He was carrying several meters of cable hooped over his large shoulder. Carrie often figured him to be a handsome man, if he ever emerged from the forest on his face.

  “Good to see you, Sam,” she said smiling.

  “Tyrell still got you locked up?” he asked gruffly. He had a warm nature about him. The silent type. He had strong brown eyes under thick dark eyebrows.

  “Still,” she said. He stood beside her and looked around at the others passing them on the deck.

  “How fucked up is this? I heard Mars was broken in half by the Earth fragment?” Carrie looked past him.

  “How are you holding up?” he added.

  “Okay, I guess. I consider myself one of the lucky ones; my family is all here,” she said. She paused for a moment. “Almost,” she added. Reynolds nodded and gave a reassuring smile.

  “Well, our good captain has me running around the ship rerouting half the electrical conduits. Turns out, in the rush, someone forgot to hook half of them up to the main power grid so running water is a problem for a lot of the ship.”

  “No better man for the job,” Carrie jested.

  Without warning the two were suddenly thrown against the bulkhead. The whole hallway listed sharply as colonists were flung on their sides. The force of the impact knocked the wind out of Carrie, as the lights in the hallway dimmed and turned to red. Her shoulder absorbed most of the impact, but Reynolds’s arm had caught her. Her forehead began to drip with blood. The gravity seemed to right itself as she found herself on the floor cradling her arm. Reynolds was unconscious. He had hit his head on the wall. She reached out and felt his pulse. Still strong.

  “Sam?” she asked with her hand on his cheek. “Sam, can you hear me?” His heavy eyes slowly opened.

  “What the hell?” he grumbled, placing his hand on his head.

  “Take it easy, you’ve had a knock to the head,” she said.

  “All hands, this is the captain,” came a sudden announcement.

  “We have had a momentary loss of power from the inertial dampeners. Possible impact on the outer hull. We are trying to disengage the FTL to assess damage. Please stand by and report to medical bays if injured.”

  “You’re bleeding,” Reynolds said, looking at Carrie. She placed her fingertips on her forehead and felt the gash.

  “Just a cut,” she answered, “Come on, let me help you. We should go to the medical bay,” she said, linking her
arms under his and helping him up.

  “Thanks, I’ll be all right. Not my first bump on the head. What the hell could have hit us in hyperspace?” Carrie shook her head curiously.

  Agathon Bridge

  “Hull breach on deck three,” shouted Chavel. He had just picked himself up off the deck, along with most of the bridge crew. Barrington had rolled under Boyett’s flight chair and was crawling back to the centre seat.

  “Bridge, this is Tosh, running down the FTL now. Sixty seconds.” He sounded out of breath, no doubt having been thrown from his chair.

  “Emergency bulkheads in place on deck three, atmosphere contained,” he continued.

  “What hit us?” Barrington barked.

  “I don’t think anything hit us. Seems to have been from inside the ship.” Barrington turned to Boyett.

  “Charly, prepare for normal space.”

  Boyett acknowledged with a simple, “sir.” She righted herself in the flight chair and switched all viewers to forward. Her hands flew across the control panel, preparing for manual flight mode. Resting her hands on both flight controls, she sat and waited.

  “Ten seconds,” said Chavel. The bridge started to vibrate. The montage of greys in the view screens began to flicker and change colour, as the ship began to emerge from the cloak of the space-time distortion. The stars appeared and the flicker of the FTL ring became more visible at it slowed down. The vibrations on the bridge continued as the braking mechanisms for the ring kicked in and slowed it down to an eventual stop. Boyett looked out at the star field. Her eyes flickered quickly from her sensor readings to the view screens.

  “Status?” Barrington asked.

  “We have re-entered normal space, sir. No indication of any asteroidal bodies. Scanning nearby systems.”

  “Status of hull breach?” he asked

  “Sections twenty-two and twenty-three are exposed to space, sir.”

  “Casualties?” said Barrington.

  “Unknown yet, sir,” said Chavel.

  “Any damage to the FTL ring?” he said.

  “No, sir, none that is registering on any systems up here. It seems to have been unaffected,” said Chavel.

  “Stow the FTL ring, Lieutenant,” he said.

  “Yes, sir. Locking FTL ring at one eight zero.” The FTL ring aligned itself with the axis of the ship and slotted nicely into place, turning the ship back into its sleek disk shape.

  “Engine room, this is Barrington. What the hell happened?”

  “Sir, we are just looking into it,” came Landon Emerson’s voice. “Looks like we have a hull breach on deck three. That much is confirmed. Good thing it didn’t hit the FTL ring or we would all have been liquefied.”

  “Landon, how could we get a hull breach in hyperspace? Was this internal?” asked Barrington.

  “Starting to look that way. Maybe a power conduit blew out. There are distribution nodes that flow through that deck. I would like to EVA with a team to check it out.”

  “Granted,” Barrington said. He looked at Boyett.

  “Charly, you go with them.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, locking her control panel.

  “Chavel, take flight.” The young man took Charly’s seat and tapped in his access code.

  “Emerson, I’m sending Lieutenant Boyett down to join your team. Keep an open comm link with the bridge and bring a visual recorder.”

  “Understood,” Emerson said as the comms clicked off.

  “Barrington to medical bay,” he said.

  “Brubaker here,” came a frantic voice.

  “Injuries, Doctor?”

  “Mostly cuts and bruises, John. Some broken bones, nothing serious. I have reports that some crewmembers are missing, Captain. Carrie came in with Sam Reynolds. She had a minor concussion, but she’s fine. I’m treating her.” Barrington looked at Chavel, whose head had turned to listen when her name was mentioned.

  “Keep me apprised, Doctor. Bridge out.” There was silence on the bridge as Barrington tried to assess the situation. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. Crewmembers waited to hear what he would do next.

  “Okay, let’s find out where the hell we are, shall we? David, start scanning any nearby star systems.” He tapped his comms pad.

  “Bridge to Doctor Tyrell.” No answer. Barrington pressed the ship-wide open comm link.

  “Barrington to Doctor Tyrell, please contact the bridge.”

  He waited.

  “Bridge, this it Tyrell,” he said after a minute. There were loud electrical sounds in the background.

  “Tyrell, where are you?”

  “Deck three, Captain.” Barrington furrowed his brow.

  “Are you all right, Doctor?”

  “Barely,” came the reply.

  “Are you in any danger?” said Barrington.

  “No, John, I’m just catching my breath. The bulkheads came down in the nick of time.”

  “Are you able to come to the bridge?” Barrington added.

  “Of course. I would like to check on my lab first, if that’s all right? To see if there were any containment breaches.” Barrington suddenly realised what he meant by that. The Black.

  “Please do that, Doctor. Do you know how many there were in that section of deck three?” he said.

  “At least two that I saw directly. Sorry, that’s all I saw,” he said.

  “Okay, Doctor. If you’re feeling up to it, please come to the bridge as soon as possible. We need your assistance.”

  “I’ll be there shortly,” he replied.

  “Sir, there’s a small planetary system eighty million kilometres to port,” said Chavel

  “Let’s see it,” Barrington said. The view screens flickered and showed a small white dwarf star being orbited by several large grey planets.

  “I’m not reading any atmosphere on any of the orbiting planets. Looks like the sun went nova a long time ago and took out the star system in the process,” said Chavel.

  “Any idea how far we’ve travelled?” asked Barrington.

  “Checking star fixes now, sir,” said Chavel.

  “Looks like at least one hundred and thirty light years, sir,” he said, looking around with a look of surprise on his face.

  “Keep scanning that nearby system, but don’t alter course. Run a full systems check on the life support systems on deck three and the rest of the ship, and get me casualty reports. Check the flight systems while you’re at it,” he said. Barrington sat back in the centre seat and rubbed his brow.

  13

  The EVA

  14:00 Martian Standard

  The form-fitting suits Emerson and Boyett wore allowed them full range of movements while outside the ship. The palm and foot pulsers gave incredibly accurate stability and positional control. With a flick of her wrist Boyett manoeuvred herself alongside Emerson, as they skimmed the hull of The Agathon.

  “You’re a natural,” said Boyett, as she watched Emerson use the EVA suit effortlessly.

  “Young had me outside that damn Jycorp station so much I was beginning to think I was born in space,” Boyett smiled. Their time had been professional, much to her disappointment, and he had been locked up in the engine room for most of his time with the FTL systems for the past few months. The ship prep had consumed their lives leading up to its launch and this was the first time they had spent any time together outside of the chaos of finishing its construction. It was quiet outside The Agathon. Boyett let her eyes follow the contours of the hull.

  “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” said Emerson, catching her gaze. “Watch your speed, Charly. If there are any hull fragments flying about you could puncture your faceplate.” Boyett smiled at the Irishman.

  “So you do care?” she said.

  “I care about getting my arse handed to me by th
e captain,” he said.

  “That cute little Irish tush? I wouldn’t worry about it,” she said. Boyett let her eyes drift across the outside of the smooth curvature of the ship and then out into the star field. A small cluster of stars to her right caught her attention. Next to them the darkness was broken with one of the most beautiful nebulas she had ever seen. The darkness was painted with vibrant reds, intermingling with striking violets and blues.

  “There,” said Emerson.

  She flicked her attention back to the ship. Boyett saw the rupture clearly now, as they drifted along the top aft section of the hull.

  “Looks to be about ten to twelve meters,” said Emerson. They stopped at the perimeter of the hole. Boyett faced her palms towards the hull and fired a quick pulse to push herself away from the ship. She then countered it by flicking them to her rear and giving a quick burst to stop her momentum. Emerson was taking readings of the fragmented sections of the hull. Boyett peered into the empty deck.

  “This was no impact,” she said.

  “Nope,” Emerson responded.

  “The hull is bent outwards,” she said.

  “What was on this deck?” he asked her.

  “Nothing much. A galley, some small lab space, more crew quarters,” Boyett said.

  “I’m going in,” she said. She gently fired her palm thrusters and drifted inside the hole, grabbing hold of the bent metal on her way in to straighten herself. She sank onto the deck and looked up at Emerson, who had his head perched looking down overhead. Boyett took a small scanner from a side holder in her belt and activated it.

  “Could have been an overload in the EPS relays,” she said.

  “Then why isn’t the deck plating scorched?” Emerson said.

  “Looks like the energy of the explosion was directed out away from the ship,” he said. Boyett looked around the sealed deck, which was now a vacuum. The walls and electrical systems seemed to have been virtually untouched, but the ceiling plating was completely obliterated with tangled and twisted metal and wiring strewn all over.

  “Landon, look at this,” she said, linking her device to his and sending him the readings she had just taken.