Surviving The Theseus

by Randy Noble

  Regina stood up, all of them still hidden by the wall, and walked back across the hall, making sure to keep the wall between her and the casino. Rachel and Blair followed, Blair slightly bent over trying to hide himself as much as he could even though the hallway offered no security.

  Regina put her back against the opposite wall from the casino and mouthed to the others, “As quick as you can.” Regina ran for the stairwell door as quickly as she could, ripped the door open and ran inside, Rachel and Blair on her heels. Regina moved around Blair, and made sure the door didn’t slam shut. She then looked at the other two and nodded down the stairs. They didn’t hesitate or complain. Regina followed behind them, ten feet back, walking sideways down the stairs.

  The door never opened, but Regina kept her eye on it anyway, just in case, her gun still in hand.

  Nothing visible attacked the woman and child. But, maybe they were shot with something from a distance. And what came out of them, she had no idea, but something did. Their innards? She didn’t see anything that resembled blood or guts, just some nondescript glob.

  She blinked her eyes down hard a couple of times, trying to clear the remaining tears.

  Regina wondered what could possibly be wiping people out, and her mind came back to the Jaltorn Horror, but she could draw no parallel and she didn’t see or hear any wolf-like creatures. No time for fearful wanderings, she looked away from the door and down at Rachel and Blair, knowing they knew something about what was going on and her patience was wearing thin. But, now was not the time. She would wait for a secure area, an area where they couldn’t run, and where someone, or something, would not interfere.

  The descent continued, no talking, Regina looking back every once in awhile. They were close now, so close. Only four levels to go.

  Chapter 20

  The small, diamond-shaped SPARS ship sat in the void, facing the matchstick markers.

  “We need more ships,” Mary said, as she, George, Michael, and Cindy stared at the image in front of Michael, scanning the sector they were in for Pyramid.

  Cindy, leaning over from her seat, looked at Michael for an answer she definitely didn’t have.

  “We might get lucky with more ships,” Michael said, “but we should have no problem picking up a distress beacon, if they have it going, or at the very least their communication beacon.”

  It never occurred to Cindy that something like this would, or could, ever happen, because the matchstick markers have always been so reliable, including the devices in ships that linked with them.

  “Michael’s right,” George said. “They would have to be very far away for us not to pick them up, unless there is no signal to pick up at all.”

  Cindy looked down at the floor, hoping for inspiration by taking her eyes away from the others. No good. She looked back up at her controls, and then caught a read out of the ship’s engine power, which was on stand-by -- not quite shutdown, but close, and ready to go at a moment’s notice. Then it hit her.

  “The engines,” Cindy said.

  Everyone looked at her, saying nothing.

  “The engines,” she said again. “I took it in SPARS training. Every engine has a specific signature, which makes it unique, even the exact same model of engine.”

  “Jesus Christ,” George said, and then he shook his head. “I must be getting too old. Thirty-eight years as a SPARS officer, and I’ve never had to track a lost ship.” He nodded at Cindy.

  Mary stood with a stunned look on her face and then managed a weak smile.

  Michael beamed at her, and she could have hugged him right then. “Outsmarted by a niner,” Michael said. “Could be worse, you could have been a rank of ten. Great job, Cindy. I don’t think we would have come up with that, or it would have taken awhile.”

  “Well,” Mary said, “she did just take training very recently, and that must be new on the curriculum because it was never mentioned in lectures or in any books covered previously.”

  George cleared his throat loudly. Mary shut up.

  Michael got on a communications link with Pyramid Cruise Lines, and after several minutes, they received a data packet of Pyramid One’s engine signature, which the company recorded on the ship’s test runs.

  “Just give me a second here,” Michael said, as he quickly maneuvered through the menu system on his display. “Got it. The signal is set and I’m scanning.”

  Small sensors all over the ship’s outer hull simultaneously scanned the 360 degrees of blackness around them. The three dimensional screen in front of Michael was a frenzy of stars appearing and disappearing very quickly.

  After a few seconds, the stars stopped their dance and the path revealed, showing them the engine trail of Pyramid One as a thin line. “Locking it in,” Michael said as he brought up a command line on another screen beside the star screen, and started typing in commands. “I’ve locked our guidance system to Pyramid One’s path, at accelerated rate. We should catch up to them no problem. Should I engage?”

  George pondered for a second as Mary left the cockpit without a word. “Cindy, I want you to radio in our current location at this marker, the direction we’re headed, and give them the engine signature of Pyramid One. And call in for some back up. Under the circumstances, they’ll send at least one more ship, but ask for more. Tell them to contact Pyramid Cruise Lines and get a calculation of the number of ships necessary to pull it to a stop. If they give you any flack, call me in and I’ll talk with them.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cindy said.

  “Once Cindy has sent communication, Michael, pursue. Let me know when we are in range.” George left Cindy and Michael to their duties.

  For the next three hours, Cindy studied her device, no more mind wanderings. She felt empowered by her assistance to the team but didn’t want it to go to her head and drop the ball on something more important. From time to time, she would look up and see what Michael was doing. He also studied intently, like herself.

  Cindy’s eyes started to get heavy so she forced a couple of yawns, brought a hand up to rub against her stubbly head, and that’s when a beep went off, notifying Cindy and Michael that they were near their target. Several more beeps went off as they got closer. Michael looked over at Cindy, and without a word, she got up and left the cockpit, coming back seconds later with George and Mary in tow.

  George came up and sat beside Michael. “There are eight small ships, shuttles from Pyramid. All of them are emitting an emergency frequency. The beacon range is short so that’s why we didn’t pick it up when we were by the markers.”

  The eight small ships all looked like golden pyramids, the more complete, smaller version of their parent ship, Pyramid One.

  George got up, and motioned Cindy over. Cindy sat down, George just behind her chair. “Cindy, scan those shuttles and look for any sign of life.”

  Cindy, still wearing her black gloves with the beads all over them, brought up a scanning program on her display, this time not a three-dimensional image. Now, the image displayed as flat and two-dimensional, but one that she still interacted with by touching buttons and menus on the display with her gloved hands.

  “Slow down, Mike,” George said, “and match the shuttle speeds. And then try and hail Pyramid One.”

  As Cindy ran her scans, she wondered why the shuttles were not near Pyramid, and debated whether to ask or not. Maybe it’s something she should know already. She didn’t want to get yelled at for asking a stupid question, especially with Mary around. But it seemed valid. “Umm, sir,” she started, directing her question at no one in particular. “Why are the shuttles not within range of Pyramid One?”

  Michael kept his head down, seemingly ignoring her, which he wouldn’t do, so he must have thought one of the others would answer her. Unless, he knew it to be a stupid question. She purged the doubt from her mind, knowing it would hinder her progress if she kept beating herself up about the little things.

  Luckily, George answered her. “It’s standard protocol for
any vessel’s life boats to follow their parent ship at a distance of one hundred kilometers. It used to be that they followed much closer, but an exploding ship changed all that when it took out all the shuttles with it.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Cindy said, her embarrassment apparent in her eyes. She saw George pick up on it, or he seemed to by his facial expression.

  “Cindy,” George said, “don’t ever hesitate to ask us anything. That was a very good question to ask. If you don’t know something, you don’t know something. Never hesitate.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “Thank you, sir.”

  Scan Complete flashed on her display along with a beeping noise. She was sure they all saw what she saw, but she vocalized it anyway. “Nothing. No life signs in any of the shuttles.”

  “That’s really odd,” Mary said.

  “Why’s that, sir?” Cindy asked.

  “Well, even if the shuttle occupants were dead, the scan would still pick that up, but there is nothing in any of them, as if the shuttles launched by themselves with nobody onboard.”

  George studied Cindy’s screen. She didn’t touch anything, waiting for him to derive whatever he was looking for.

  “Okay, people,” George said. “Let’s get to Pyramid One and see what’s what. We can call these shuttles back if need be, but we’ll leave them as is until we know more. Get us there yesterday, Mike. Cindy, pull up an image.”

  Michael throttled up.

  “Control,” Cindy said, “give me the holographic navigation console, range at one hundred and fifty kilometers.” In a second, a holographic image of what awaited them popped up in a grid, Pyramid One a small image in one of the sections. Cindy reached through the image and pressed on Pyramid One with her index finger. The image zoomed, almost filling the display. The Pyramid cruise ship did indeed, as they saw previously during the mission briefing, look like a pyramid cut in half.

  “Control,” Cindy said again. “Dual nav and communication.” Cindy touched the tip of her gloved index finger to the Pyramid ship. “Pyramid One, Pyramid One, this is Space Patrol and Rescue Squad. Please acknowledge. We are here to assist. Please acknowledge.” Nothing.

  Michael closed the distance in less than a minute. All of them looked up through the window. Pyramid One filled their window, a massive ship designed for one purpose: filling one vessel with as many people as possible to maximize profit. Of that, Cindy had no doubt. A ship that size, dwarfing their ship, would contain thousands of people. What the hell happened? They were about to find out.

  Michael pulled back on the throttle, slowing them down as they pulled up to Pyramid One, matching its speed and direction, which, according to the readout in front of Cindy said they were going 48,597 kilometers per hour. Whoever launched it away from the markers, probably took it to the limits, as a ship of Pyramid’s size was not built for fast space travel. It was a cruising ship, something that would normally take its time to get anywhere. The longer the better, keeping people onboard and spending spending spending.

  “Give me a 360,” George said.

  Cindy shrugged her shoulders, and Mary said, “Just keep the communication channels open, Cindy.”

  Michael, like Cindy, wore black gloves, steering with a holographic yoke and throttle. He throttled up slightly and steered around Pyramid One.

  No one said anything as they circled the massive ship, keeping in tight. Cindy watched it through the window, looking for any sign of trouble.

  Along the top of the ship and sides, there was nothing unusual. Lights shone out of some of the windows, so power was not the issue. It was quite a beautiful ship, rounded edges, and, except for the bottom few levels, there were windows all over the ship and a rounded dome on top, which was hazy and did not offer a view inside. The surface of it shone a bright, golden color like the shuttles.

  As Michael brought the ship along the other side and near the bottom, Cindy could see that the main shuttle bay doors were open, both the outer and inner doors. Very unusual. As they went underneath, she noticed, as she was sure the others did, that three emergency hatches were stuck open.

  “All right, boys and girls,” George said, Mary frowning when he did. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We need to secure the shuttle bay, but we’re going to investigate first to make sure it’s secure for us. Comm Set.”

  Communication channels opened on all the SPARS glasses. Cindy’s heart raced with excitement and nervousness at what awaited them. Maybe it was nothing, some freak series of software glitches, but her instincts felt otherwise. Something was wrong, really wrong.

  George cleared his throat, his voice still raspy. “Here’s the situation people: We’ve found Pyramid. There are eight of its shuttles trailing it at the standard one hundred kilometer range with no signs of life, or anybody, in any one of them.” George paused for a second. “Cindy, scan Pyramid, look for signs of life.” He cleared his throat again. “The main bay doors are open and there are some emergency escape hatches also open that never resealed. The communication channels are static. We cannot reach anyone.”

  Cindy scanned Pyramid One. It would take awhile with all that square footage.

  “We are going to secure the hanger bay,” George continued, “but first, we’ll investigate. Paula and John, please prep and ready The Tourist, and Brett and Travis up front. Once The Tourist is good to go, you’re driving John, Paula observe. We’ll watch up front.”

  Cindy’s scan beeped back at her, way too quickly. Sure enough, the scan could not complete; it didn’t even get anywhere, just some cryptic message. “Sir,” Cindy said looking at George. “The scan came back with this S-L-F zero zero five error message. Do you have any idea what that means?”

  George shook his head.

  “Well, look it up, Cindy,” Mary said. “Take some initiative.” Sure, George tells her to ask anything, and Captain Cunt makes her feel like shit. Cindy didn’t reply, but neither did she jump up and do as Mary asked.

  Travis came through the door just then, Brett right behind. “No need to look it up,” Travis said. “I don’t know what the zero zero five means, but I know the S-L-F means Scan Link Failure. And that little bit of cryptic-ness is telling us that Pyramid’s operational computer systems are down.”

  George shook his head. “Who said that? It couldn’t have been my partner. How did you -- no, on second thought, I don’t want to know how you knew that.”

  “It’s not as sordid as you might think.” Travis smiled. Cindy smiled back at that infectious smile of Travis’s. Sometimes he disgusted her, but other times he amazed her. He was a hard guy to hate, even when he crossed the line, stomped all over it, and then pissed on it to erase the line’s existence.

  “Well,” George said, “we had to go in anyway. I guess we’ll find out the hard way.”

  *****

  John and Paula set up in the holding area, in the two front seats. The control for The Tourist sat on John’s lap. He held the control’s black flight stick, which he was sure Travis would have something to say about. The flight stick was attached to a panel with a keyboard and a large, thin glass screen, thirty-two inches wide. Paula leaned over to watch.

  Underneath the SPARS ship, a small panel slid open and a small, black object, which looked like a bullet, flew out of the opening towards Pyramid. Small enough to carry, but its weight would bear you down. John tried lifting it once on a dare and nearly dropped it on his foot. It was a space probe only. If it ever got into a gravity situation, it would drop like a stone because its power source would be insufficient to keep it afloat.

  On John’s screen, he could see what The Tourist could see -- Pyramid One getting bigger and bigger on the screen.

  George’s voice spoke to John through the speakers in his glasses. “Take it through the main doors and take a quick peek and see if anything is out of the ordinary, other than the shuttle bay power.”

  “Yes, sir,” John said.

  John hit the L on the keyboard and eight bright lights that
circled the front of The Tourist lit the way. As John steered it into the main hanger bay door, nothing unusual revealed itself. Moving further inside the hanger bay, The Tourist’s light found nothing unusual, just a large, empty bay with most of its shuttles in place, and no bodies floating around like John thought there might be.

  He pressed S on the keyboard next. When he did, the screen lit up and cycled through various colors, revealing different shapes and waves when it did. “Comm Set,” John said. “Nothing in the scan, sir. No heat signatures or anything.”

  “Restore power,” George said.

  “On my way, sir,” John said. He was glad no bodies were visible. But maybe there were corpses and they got sucked out into space. Thoughts of torture and pain flew through his mind, but he let it go no further. No proof of foul play. Maybe just a series of unfortunate accidents. Regardless, they would know soon enough.

  John steered The Tourist to a door on the other side of the bay, where he knew the shuttle bay control room was located from his studies of the ship’s layout. “Paula, grab the gloves.”

  “What? Me?” she said.

  John smiled and nodded. He did another quick scan to see if anything could be seen on the other side of the door, but there was nothing. It was odd. Very odd. Someone had turned the shuttle bay power off, and then, what? Walked out the door and got sucked into space? It didn’t make any sense.

  Paula grabbed a pair of gloves, like the ones Cindy and Michael used in the cockpit.

  When The Tourist got to the door, John pressed the letter A on the keyboard. Two panels opened up on either side of The Tourist, and two metal skeleton arms unfolded themselves from their resting place.

  Now wearing the gloves, Paula stretched out her fingers, and The Tourist’s metal fingers mimicked her motion. With precision, John steered towards the door at just the right level so all Paula had to do was reach slightly, grasp the door, and turn. The metal hand responded and the door opened.