Orion Lost

by Alastair Chisholm

“Fine – we realised you were misleading us.”

  “Correct.”

  “My pad,” said Lauryn. “It would have registered the different times. It keeps its own logs – you couldn’t have wiped it enough without it being obvious.”

  “And my diary,” said Beth, nodding.

  “Correct.”

  “How did I work it out?” asked Mikkel, as if only curious.

  Ship said, “You believed the reported Jump count was wrong. You measured the Jump emitter discrepancy readings from every point on the Orion and processed them all to calculate the correct Jump count. It required three weeks of tabulating. It was … not an action that had been anticipated.”

  “Hmm,” said Mikkel, nodding. “Good idea. I should have done that here.”

  “And here we are,” said Beth. “Fourth time’s the charm, eh?”

  Ship blinked. “That does not appear to be the case.”

  “So…” Arnold coughed and looked awkwardly embarrassed. “So now what?”

  The crew of the Orion looked at each other.

  “We should switch off the distress signal,” said Mikkel.

  “I already did,” said Vihaan. Mikkel frowned and checked his screen.

  Vihaan said, “I should take the captaincy.” Arnold nodded, though with less certainty than Beth had expected.

  Lauryn snorted. “We’ve just heard that it doesn’t work!”

  “Beth can be second-in-command,” he said. “I’ll get us home; she can look after morale issues.”

  Beth sighed. “It doesn’t work like that either, Vihaan. You can’t just get someone else to care about other people for you.”

  “Captain,” said Mikkel, “I think we—”

  “Then what do you suggest?” demanded Vihaan. “Reset us so you can have another turn? We’re floating in space, our generators are barely working, we’ve been attacked, the Jump systems are almost dead – what do you want to wreck this time?”

  Ship said, “Resetting is no longer viable. There are not enough Gizmos to restore the Orion to pre-Event state.”

  “Yeah, what about that?” asked Arnold. “What happened during the Event?”

  They stopped and stared at Ship.

  “Yes, what did happen?” asked Beth.

  Ship said, “Logs are damaged.”

  “What?”

  “That’s the same rubbish you’ve been telling us all along!”

  “Please remain calm.”

  “You’re still lying!” shouted Lauryn.

  Mikkel tried to speak. “Everyone, I think there’s a—”

  “Look,” interrupted Vihaan, “it doesn’t matter. What matters is we get home, and I can do that—”

  “Of course it matters!” shouted Lauryn. “We can’t get home if Ship is still lying to us; it will never let us—”

  “Listen to me!” roared Mikkel.

  They stopped and turned in astonishment.

  Mikkel blushed. “There is a signal,” he said in his normal voice. He blinked. “I thought it was our distress signal, but it’s not. There’s someone trying to contact us. It’s a signal.”

  “Identify,” said Beth and Vihaan together. They glared at each other.

  “It is about six thousand kilometres away,” said Mikkel.

  Lucille jumped to her console. “Oui, I see it also.”

  “Make sure it’s not a virus,” said Vihaan. “Arnold, get the defences up.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “What is it?” Beth asked Mikkel.

  “A radio signal,” Mikkel muttered, still tapping at his console. “With human-standard message flags. Hang on. It’s an Earth signal!”

  He turned, his face glowing in an excitement quite unlike his normal self. “It’s an Earth Navy Ship! It’s got authentication codes, Ship, can you authenticate it?”

  Ship said, “The codes are valid. They are registered to the ENS Sparrowhawk.”

  “Sparrowhawk?” whispered Lauryn. “That’s … that’s Captain Kier’s ship.”

  Beth felt her heart beat hard in her chest, as if for the first time since she’d walked on to the bridge that morning.

  “Pipe it through,” she said in a weak voice.

  The speakers pinged into life and filled the bridge with a familiar, friendly, confident voice.

  “To the ES Orion,” it said, “this is Captain Kier of the ENS Sparrowhawk answering your distress call. You took a lot of finding! I am approximately three hours from your last reported location. Hang in there! Your signal has stopped. Please resume communications and let me know your condition.”

  “Capitaine Kier!” squealed Lucille.

  Arnold cheered, waving his clasped hands above his head like a champion. Lauryn – did Lauryn just blush? – and even Mikkel gave a faint smile. Vihaan stared at the speakers with a look of yearning hope, and Beth, finally, let herself slide down to the ground, and sank her head on to her knees.

  29

  Captain Kier

  “Is he there?” asked Beth.

  “There’s some static,” muttered Mikkel, typing into his console. “I’m clearing it up now. Yes, here he is.”

  The screen flickered into life and Beth drew herself up tall and straightened her jumpsuit. At the last moment she ran a hand hurriedly through her hair, just as Captain Kier’s grinning face appeared on the screen.

  “Orion!” he called cheerily. “Man, are you a sight for sore eyes!” He stopped and peered at Beth in surprise. “Um … Beth?”

  Just seeing his face brought a flush of relief so strong that Beth almost had to sit down again. “Hello, Captain Kier!” she shouted. “We’re so happy to see you!”

  He frowned. “Beth, what are you doing on the bridge?” He shook his head. “I mean – hi! Happy to see you too. But where’s Captain Joshi?”

  “There was an accident,” said Beth. She thought she might start laughing. “It’s OK! He’s not … you know. But the adults are in Sleep; we can’t Wake them up. We’ve had to run the ship.”

  “You?” He stared at them. “By yourselves?”

  “Well, yeah! There’s six of us. You know Vihaan?” Vihaan nodded, as if there was nothing strange about the situation at all. “And Arnold, Mikkel –” Mikkel lifted one hand in a wave – “and Lucille; she’s navigating.” Lucille jumped into the view of the camera, smiling. “And this is Lauryn. Over here. Lauryn?”

  Lauryn hung back, staring fixedly at her console screen, but Beth waved at her until eventually she came into camera view.

  “Hello,” she said in a tiny voice, blushing.

  “Hi!” called Kier. He looked back at Beth. “Seriously, though? You guys?” He leaned back in his chair. “Wow. I can’t believe you managed it. You’re awesome, Beth! Hey – you really did look after the ship for me!”

  Beth felt as if she might start glowing. “I, ah, suppose,” she whispered, grinning, and he beamed at her.

  “Well, Captain McKay,” he said, “I am one happy guy for finding you out here – I must’ve chased you half across the galaxy! What say I come aboard and we get you home, yeah? I can be there in … two hours.”

  “We’re ready for you!” she said. “Mikkel is going to send you coordinates and docking details.”

  “I’ll see you then, captain,” said Kier, and he gave her one of his casual, oh-so-cool salutes. She tried to salute back, felt self-conscious, stopped, and hit the side of her head.

  Kier just laughed and broke the connection.

  Beth stared at the blank screen, her grin still wide. “He’s coming,” she told the others. “He’s going to be here in two hours.”

  “We know,” said Mikkel, smiling.

  Beth looked around. Her eyes swept across the bridge and the accumulated cups, wrappers and other debris.

  “Oh god,” she said, suddenly frowning. “We have to tidy up.”

  Two hours later, the scout ship Sparrowhawk showed on their screen. It was a tiny craft, with wings that curved backwards; Beth thought it looked more like a
swallow than a hawk. It curled towards them, its hull flashing against the Orion’s docking lights.

  “Sparrowhawk,” Lucille said into her comms link, “you are cleared for docking at Bay Three. Docking flight path is being sent to you.”

  “Orion, this is Sparrowhawk. Flight path received and acknowledged, commencing docking sequence now, over.” Kier’s voice was now serious and competent, and the little craft swooped gently down towards the docking bay entrance. The children watched, entranced.

  “What will we tell him?” asked Vihaan.

  Beth turned, surprised. Vihaan’s face was twisted into a strange expression, as if embarrassed.

  “What do you mean?”

  He waved a hand around the bridge. “About … our memories.”

  “We should tell him everything,” said Mikkel in a matter-of-fact way.

  But Beth hesitated. She understood what Vihaan meant. To tell Kier about the resets, they’d have to tell him about the false starts. About the disasters they’d made, the damage, their failures, over and over…

  “Maybe we could just not mention it,” said Lauryn. “I mean, unless he asks.”

  Vihaan chewed his lip and nodded. “And what about Ship?” he asked.

  The children turned and stared at the hologram, hovering to one side. Beth realised it had been quiet since Kier’s signal.

  Now it said, “All of my actions were intended to protect the crew.”

  “Where’s my pad?” demanded Lauryn, her voice thick with mistrust.

  “And my diary?” asked Beth.

  There was a brief pause, then Ship said, “I will return them.” A small hatch opened and a little cleaning droid rolled in, carrying both. Lauryn seized her pad with delight, almost hugging it, and then switched it on and started swiping and tapping in frantic bursts.

  Beth picked up her diary. It seemed lighter than she remembered. When she opened it, the last entry was from the evening before her interview with Major Greyling. The evening before the Event. After that, nothing – just a gap where thirty or more pages had been removed.

  “Wiped,” hissed Lauryn. She glared at Ship and waved her pad at it. “You wiped the data.”

  “It was necessary to prevent you from realising you had been Woken before.”

  Beth shook her head. “No more of this,” she said. “No more deceiving, no tricks. Understand?”

  “Understood—”

  “And no more spying on us! Turn off the security cameras.”

  The hologram flickered. “The security cameras are for the protection of the crew—”

  “Do it!” snapped Beth. “Captain’s orders.”

  Another pause, very slight. Then Ship nodded. “Security cameras have been deactivated.” There was a whine, and around the bridge all the cameras pointed downwards.

  There was silence. Then Vihaan nodded. “We say nothing,” he said. “We get home. That’s it.”

  “That’s it,” said Beth.

  By the time Sparrowhawk reached the docking bay, they were all there and waiting.

  Everyone seemed nervous, even Mikkel. Beth noticed that they’d all somehow found time to surreptitiously tidy themselves up.

  The final lights turned green and the inner doors opened to reveal the little scout ship, hissing slightly from its transition from freezing vacuum into the warm ship. A hatch opened, and a figure stepped out.

  It was Captain Kier.

  He looked as dashing as ever, in his standard grey and navy-blue flight suit. He stood, grinning, and nodded to them. “Hey,” he said.

  The crew of the Orion stared at him for a moment. Then Lucille ran forward and flung herself at him, clinging her arms round his waist with a fierce grip and pressing her cheek into his uniform.

  “Capitaine!” she half whispered.

  “Oh!” he exclaimed, shocked. “Er, OK then. Uh, hi!”

  And then the others came too, crowding around him. Arnold, Mikkel… Lauryn reached towards him tentatively, touched his arm and then jumped and clutched her pad to her chest, blushing. Vihaan hesitated, but Kier saw him.

  “Vee, my man!” He held up a hand and the boy high-fived it with relieved delight, and a grin.

  Finally Kier looked across at Beth, still standing back. He straightened, and his face became serious, though still happy. “Captain McKay?” he asked.

  She nodded. He held out a hand and she shook it.

  “Permission to come aboard, captain?”

  Beth laughed. “Permission granted.”

  “Thank you.”

  He looked around. “So … you guys got anything to eat?” He sniffed. “And, oh man, a shower. You all probably want to let go of me till I’ve had a looong wash.”

  Beth laughed again. “You can have your shower,” she said, “and we’ll get you some food.”

  They led him away, chatting and smiling and all speaking over each other.

  Ship’s hologram watched them leave.

  “So you’ve really been out here this whole time?” asked Kier, later. They were in the canteen, and Kier was in a fresh flight suit, leaning back from a number of empty plates.

  “Yeah,” said Arnold. “I mean, not here here, but around. Jumping.”

  “And, what, Ship just Woke you up, put you in charge?” Kier looked at Beth. “That must have been pretty hard.”

  “Oh, well … yeah.” Beth grinned.

  “But that was three months ago,” he said. “Where have you been?”

  There was a slightly awkward silence.

  After a second, Vihaan said, “It hasn’t really felt that long to us.”

  “We just did what we could,” said Beth. “We can’t steer the Jump because the emitters keep going wrong.”

  “We had to fix them ourselves,” said Lauryn. “The Gizmos got destroyed, most of them. There’s only two left, plus some bits. Arnold fixed one of them.”

  Kier gave Arnold a look of respect, and Arnold actually blushed.

  “We nearly lost that one,” he said. “He was on the outside when the Scrapers attacked, but he held on when we Jumped.”

  Kier’s face clouded. “You saw Scrapers?” he asked quietly.

  Vihaan nodded. “Led by someone named Captain Murdoch.”

  “And you escaped? Man…” Kier shook his head. “I’ve heard of Captain Murdoch. She’s a scary woman. You’re lucky she… Does she know you’re just kids?”

  Beth laughed. “No,” she said, “we faked the transmissions to make me sound grown-up.”

  “How did you get away?”

  “It was very scary,” gushed Lucille. “We had to Jump with some of the emitters offline.”

  “We landed in Videshi space!” said Lauryn. “That’s when we rescued the damaged Videshi ship.”

  Captain Kier stared at them all.

  “You’re not kidding? You really did this?”

  “Uh, yes,” said Beth. “It was damaged and we fixed the emitters on its hull.”

  “Then it Jumped!” said Arnold, “and it brought back this, like, ginormous ship with it, so we ran away again. Into an asteroid field!”

  “And that’s how we’re here,” said Vihaan. “The ship’s a bit of a wreck now. We’ve fixed enough emitters to Jump again, but it would be uncontrolled. And we’re … well, we’re pretty pleased to see you, sir.”

  “Vee, if you call me sir again, I’ll kick your ass.” Kier grinned and spread his arms wide. “You guys are … amazing! You’re awesome!”

  For a few seconds the children sat there, feeling the glow of thinking that maybe they were awesome. It was a nice feeling.

  “So what happened to you?” asked Mikkel. “Where have you been?”

  Kier waved his arm. “I’ve been looking for you! All over the place, following half-trails… I must have Jumped a couple of hundred times. I thought I’d caught you once but…” He shrugged. “Never mind that – what happened to you? Why did you Jump at all?”

  Beth frowned. “Weren’t you there at the time?”

/>   Kier shook his head. “I was on reconnaissance, a Jump away; when I came back you were gone. There was a trace of a path, but…”

  “We don’t know what happened,” said Vihaan. “There was an emergency Jump, we saw our parents going into Sleep, then we Woke up and … that was it.”

  “But doesn’t Ship know?”

  Beth shook her head. “Ship’s logs were damaged.”

  “Yeah, so it claims,” muttered Lauryn.

  Kier looked surprised. He lifted an eyebrow and gazed at Ship. “Is that right?” he asked slowly.

  “Logs were damaged,” said Ship.

  It didn’t elaborate, and there was a small silence.

  “Well,” said Kier, clapping his hands at last. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

  “Yeah!”

  “OK… You got any message shuttles left?”

  “We never had any,” complained Lucille. “Ship said they were lost in the Event.”

  Again, Kier looked at Ship and frowned. “Hmm.” He shook his head. “OK, well, bad news there – neither do I. I’ve had no way to call home.”

  Ship said, “Protocols dictate that you should have Jumped to a nearby colony or space station to alert them.”

  “I know. I probably should have.” Kier shrugged. “But I kept picking up half a trail – like I was always just one Jump behind you. I figured if I’d stopped to report back, you’d be gone.”

  Ship said nothing.

  “So here’s my plan,” said Kier. “I’ll send the Sparrowhawk to the nearest colony on an automated flight path, with a recorded message. I’ll stay with you guys and we’ll wait to be rescued together. We’re only a half-dozen Jumps from civilisation – they could be back here in a day or two. How does that sound?”

  “Awesome!” shouted Arnold. Two days… Beth felt a hard lump in her stomach at the thought.

  “So what do you say, Captain?” asked Kier. He looked straight at her. “Can I stay aboard for a short while?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, smiling.

  “Good! I’ll send Sparrowhawk off right away.” He looked down at his empty plate. “Well, maybe one more slice of pizza?”

  Dinner stretched on, the group chattering and laughing all the while. Kier told them increasingly outrageous stories of all the things he’d had to do to survive in the Sparrowhawk, and the children in turn recounted and repeated what they’d been through. But eventually, Kier’s eyes started to glaze over, and he stretched and gave a long, theatrical yawn.