She was silent, studying the symbols through my video link. “Yes,” she said finally, “they’re similar to the controls on the Chron ships. I would guess . . . Press the top button to open the door, and the bottom one to close it. Of the others, I’m not sure, but you aren’t planning to remove your suits anyway, are you?”
“No, I don’t think so. Thanks—I didn’t want to have to blast this door open without knowing what or who is on the other side.”
I stepped forward and pressed the button Cerevare had indicated, and the door slid, somewhat surprisingly, down into the floor. There was no rush of air escaping as it did, so I assumed the scientists hadn’t bothered with trying to figure out the Chron pressurization system, either, or didn’t trust it. Or maybe it wasn’t working. Whatever, it probably meant that they were still wearing EVA suits, which was good. We might have brought our extras along for nothing, but at least we wouldn’t have to struggle them into the suits if they were wounded or unconscious.
I examined the area once we’d passed into the airlock and found the buttons to close the door behind us. It slid up into place smoothly. At the next door I followed the same procedure.
Which put us inside what I suppose you would call the moon proper. A corridor stretched out before us, the walls forming a rough octagon shape. It snaked down and to the left about twenty feet ahead. The sides were smooth, not worked stone, but something like a plasteel alloy in a pale camel-colour. I put a gloved hand against it, but couldn’t feel any particular heat or cold, at least through my glove. Apart from that, there was nothing remarkable to see, so we continued cautiously down its length.
“There is an atmosphere,” Yuskeya said, her head bent over her datapad. “The mix is similar enough to Earth’s to be breathable, and the pressure is within what we’d find comfortable.”
We’d advanced down the corridor perhaps ten meters when I heard something. It sounded like voices, further ahead.
“Ha lo!” I called through the suit’s external speaker, the sound echoing weirdly in the oddly-shaped corridor. “Do you need assistance?”
I knew they did, whether they knew it or not, but I always try to be polite when I’m rescuing folks. It was entirely possible they didn’t know yet what had happened to the Domtaw.
“Yes! We’re down here!” Even at a distance and through the suit’s microphone, I could hear a note of desperation in the voice.
“On our way!”
We followed the corridor perhaps another thirty meters before we found them. It continued to curve gradually, and slope further down toward the core of the moon. The corridor itself remained unremarkable, the smooth walls giving way occasionally to an alcove that served no apparent purpose.
Finally it opened up into a large room, well-lit by panels in the ceiling that seemed to glow from within. Strange markings, presumably Chron writing, lined the walls. Three men waited inside the room. They wore standard EVA suits with the Nearspace Protectorate emblem over the heart. One lay supine on the floor while another knelt beside him. The third sat propped against the far wall.
The kneeling man leaned over his comrade and said loudly, “See, Antixo, I told you the Admiral would not abandon us. We’ll get you out of here.” He got to his feet, turning to face us. Five small coloured starbursts on his helmet—blue, white, yellow, orange, and red—told me he was a Protectorate Lieutenant. Through the visor on his helmet I had the impression of close-cropped dark hair and smooth olive skin. Concern pinched his face, hardening his features, and his brown eyes were troubled. He paused, noticing, I supposed, the absence of the Protectorate emblem on our own suits.
“You are from the Domtaw?” It was half-statement, half-question.
Yuskeya stepped forward, so that he could see the seven commander’s starburst pins on her uniform. “No, but we are here to help you,” she said. “I’m Commander Blue, of the Nearspace Protectorate vessel S. Cheswick, on special assignment to another ship at the moment. Are you all right?”
The man had saluted and relaxed visibly when he saw Yuskeya’s insignia. “I am, Commander. Lieutenant Gerazan Soto, cryptographer. My friends are not so well, however.” He nodded to the man propped against the wall. “Lieutenant Chen was taking readings on that wall when something in the moon activated. It knocked him out. Wing Officer Antixo—he’s a molecular engineer—was just outside the door, going to get a medkit out of the shuttle, when some sort of shockwave hit us. I dragged him in here, but . . .”
Yuskeya pulled two datameds out of the supplies she’d brought, handed one to Baden, and crossed to the man on the floor.
I stuck a hand out to Soto, who stood watching as the others assessed his friends. “Captain Luta Paixon, of the far trader Tane Ikai,” I said. “Only the three of you here?”
He nodded. “We lost contact with the Domtaw a little while before Chen was injured. Some things in the room seemed to activate—I don’t know if it was something we did or not. We lost communications, anyway. Do you know what’s happened?”
I took his arm gently and led him away from the wounded men, over to the doorway. “Lieutenant Soto—Gerazan—I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but the Domtaw is gone.”
He frowned. “Gone? No, they would never leave us here—”
“No, they wouldn’t, of course not. A Chron ship came through the other wormhole—”
“A Chron ship?” he interrupted. “That’s impossible!”
I put a hand on his arm. “I know it’s a shock. We have a historian on board, a Chron expert, and she identified it positively. Another ship followed it, apparently in pursuit. The Chron triggered the moon to start emitting a type of cosmic ray; that’s probably what happened to Lieutenant Chen. He must have been touching something and been affected by it. Then—well, there was a battle, and the Domtaw was destroyed. That was probably the explosion that injured Antixo. I’m sorry.”
He didn’t say anything right away. “What about the Stillwell—the other Protectorate ship?”
I sighed. “It’s still out there, but there’s an energy field around it that’s blocking all signals. We can’t scan past it, and I don’t know if they can get a signal out, either. Their status is . . . unknown.”
“Where’s the ship the Commander mentioned—the Cheswick?” I could tell he was grasping, hoping that somewhere in this tale of tragedy there was some glimmer of good news.
“Commander Blue is currently a member of my crew, Lieutenant. My brother, Lanar Mahane, is the commanding officer of the Cheswick, and Commander Blue has been on—a special assignment with me for a while.” I sighed. “We’re all you’ve got, I’m afraid, but there’s room on my ship for you.”
He forced a grim smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Then I’m grateful you’re here, Captain. But I don’t know if we should tell the others all this. I can hardly take it all in, and they’re not in the best shape.”
And I haven’t even told him about the wormhole, I thought. I’m not even thinking about that myself yet.
I caught Yuskeya’s eye, and she shook her head, just perceptibly. The man on the floor wasn’t going to make it. But the other man seemed to be conversing, albeit haltingly, with Baden, so there might be hope for him.
“Shall we try and get everyone over to the Tane Ikai, then?” I asked. Lieutenant Soto obviously felt responsible for the men here, and was doing his best to keep himself together. It wasn’t for me to start ordering him around.
He nodded. “If it’s safe, I’d like to get us off this thing,” he said.
I have to say, I felt the same way.
Chapter 15 – Luta
Council of War
ANTIXO DIED ON the way to the Tane Ikai. I don’t think his fellow scientists were very surprised. The man who’d been knocked out, Chen, seemed to fluctuate. He’d seem fine, able to talk, if slowly, then would lapse into a trancelike state, staring straight ahead or dropping suddenly asleep like a narcoleptic. Yuskeya insisted that we immediately install him in the First Aid s
tation, close to the bridge so that she could monitor him, and let him get some rest.
“Crew meeting on the bridge,” I said, once we were safely on board, “in fifteen minutes. Lieutenant Soto, please join us.” Then I went to change my clothes, which I admit took only about five minutes. The other ten I took to sit on the side of my bed and compose my thoughts. It would actually have taken a lot longer than that, but our situation had to be discussed and I didn’t feel like putting it off any longer. Everything requiring immediate attention had been seen to, and now we needed to take stock.
When I stood up to go to the bridge, another wave of nausea hit me, and I sat down heavily on the bed. I put my head down between my knees and waited for it to pass, but the pounding of blood in my temples seemed to make it worse. I covered my face with my hands, found it sweating and clammy. Why is this happening? I’d never been sick a day in my life, or at least not since I was twelve or thirteen and my mother had injected me with the nanobioscavengers that would prolong my life almost indefinitely. They also promptly took care of colds, headaches, nausea, respiratory infections, broken bones—anything and everything that could hinder my health. Whatever was wrong now, I wasn’t used to it and I didn’t like it.
A knock sounded at the door, and I had barely time to sit up before it swung open and Hirin stuck his head in.
“You okay?”
I forced a smile and nodded, grabbing a towel off the back of my chair and swiping my face. “Sure, just freshened up. I’m coming now.”
Hirin shot a quizzical glance in my direction, but I ignored it. I’d talk to Yuskeya later, and get her to run some scans. My original idea, to talk to Hirin, didn’t seem so attractive now. Not since he’d been upset at the prospect of my jaunt on the moon for the rescue mission. He’d obviously only worry, and I was sure he’d done enough of that during the ten years he was sick and confined to a nursing home Earthside, while I continued to work the trade routes to pay for his care.
He handed me a datapad. “Baden sends you this. Says it’s pretty basic, but if you have a backup of yours, he’ll restore it for you later.”
I turned it over in my hands. It was newer than mine had been. “We had this in ship’s stores?”
“No, I think it’s an old one of his. You know Baden; nothing but the newest and best.”
“That’s him.” I almost smiled. The weight of the datapad in my hand was a small reminder that at least some things were easily fixed.
Not everything would be so simply dealt with, unfortunately.
The crew, Cerevare, and Gerazan had gathered on the bridge by the time we got there, but the murmur of conversation ceased when Hirin and I entered. Baden and Maja sat together at the comm board. Viss and Yuskeya were on opposite sides of the bridge. Cerevare had her feet tucked up on a skimchair as usual, and Gerazan Soto was in the co-pilot’s chair near Rei. Rei threw me a wink of encouragement when I entered. I bypassed the captain’s chair and went to stand on the right, near the airlock doors, where everyone could see me and I could see them all.
“Folks,” I said, “we usually have this sort of gathering in the galley, but I don’t want to leave the bridge unattended even if we’re on solid ground. I’ll come straight to the point. We are in big trouble here.”
Yuskeya nodded. “I’ve started mapping this system, using all the data in this scan range as a base point.”
“Thanks, Yuskeya. I want everyone else running all the scans you have at your stations as well. Since this is an uncharted system, we have no navigation data on file for it. We need to chart every iota of information as we get it, so that we can find our way around.”
Gerazan Soto frowned in puzzlement. “Sorry to interrupt so soon, Captain, but won’t we head back through the wormhole to Delta Pavonis?”
I sighed. “I’m sorry again, Gerazan, but there’s more bad news. You haven’t been in a position to see it yet, but the wormhole was hit by some sort of energy weapon from that unknown ship I mentioned. Rei, would you put it on the main screen?”
The screen flickered from its static view of the scientists’ shuttle craft and the opening into the depths of the moon. Now the wormhole lay at its center, a glowering red eye against the dark starfield, whirling in a malefic storm of uncontrolled fire.
“I don’t think the wormhole is a viable option.”
“Sankta merde,” he breathed. “But we don’t know how long it might stay like that,” he said. He’d gone very pale as he stared at what was our only known route home.
“You’re right, we don’t, and I’m willing to watch it for a bit to see what happens. We can try sending a comm signal through it, see if we get any response, although I don’t have much hope there. We can try approaching it with the skip drive running and see what happens, but I don’t relish the thought of diving into it in that state.”
I clasped my hands behind my back. “We have to consider our options if it doesn’t right itself quickly. We’re in an unknown system. We don’t know what resources, if any, are available. The only operating wormhole nearby leads to somewhere unknown, and all the data we have on it—namely the ships that came through it—suggest that the place it leads to is not a friendly one. We need ideas, miaj amikoj.”
The crew seemed to take a collective deep sigh. “Well, let’s start with the system we’re in,” Viss said. “Can we figure out, from the data available, what system it might be?”
Yuskeya answered, her eyes on me, not him. “The computer is running through the database now, but it will most likely only come up with a list of possibilities based on the type of the nearest star. There are countless systems that we have no data for. A definitive answer is unlikely.”
“Even if we could identify the system, it probably won’t do us any good,” Rei said. “The star is a B-Type, so it’s not likely there are any planets in this system capable of supporting life, carbon-based at least; too much ultraviolet to be healthy to stay here for long. We can search the database for explored wormholes leading to B star systems—I’m sure there are a few—and if this turns out to be one of them, then we’re home free if we can find the wormhole terminal on this end.” She sighed. “But I don’t think it’s very likely.”
It wasn’t like Rei to sound so pessimistic, and I looked at her sharply, wondering if her melancholy were returning. Gerazan’s face was set and solemn, but he nodded in agreement.
“What about the scans we ran for Cerevare before the problemos began,” I asked. “Did we—how shall I put this—pick up any extra data along the way?”
Baden grinned. “We might have piggybacked a little, at that, Captain. Besides the composition, mass, atmospheric mix, gravity, and all that essential data about the moon, and the fact that it’s about seventy-five percent solid, we learned a few other things. There’s no sign that the planet nearby is inhabited; in fact, as Rei says, it shouldn’t be able to support life as we know it. No other life signs on the moon apart from the folks from the Domtaw, and nothing that appeared to be a weapon, Chron or otherwise. The other two moons appear to be natural bodies, but are too tiny to support an atmosphere.”
Gerazan gaped at Baden’s recitation. I thought he might need a distraction.
“Gerazan, would you care to share what you’ve been able to learn?”
“Uh—sure, Captain.” He blinked and focused on me, and his bearing changed, getting ready to report. “We were in orbit for about twenty-four hours, taking scans and readings, before the Admiral authorized us to start studying the moon on-site. We concluded that the artifact was definitely of Chron construction; we made comparisons to all the Chron data still on file and compiled since the time of the war. We started scanning some distance out, then gradually moved closer, into easy shuttle range. Nothing we did seemed to affect the moon in any way—until today, that is,” he added bleakly.
I prodded him gently. “Were you able to learn anything yourself?”
“Not really . . . not yet.” He shook his head. “We have so few of
the Chron symbols to make comparisons with, and I’m not an expert to start with.”
“Cerevare is,” I said, nodding to the Lobor. “If the two of you work together, you might be able to come up with something interesting.”
Cerevare nodded eagerly. “I would be most interested to see all the data you’ve collected, Lieutenant Soto.”
He paled suddenly. “All of the original scan data would have been . . . lost . . . with the Domtaw.”
I nodded. “Understood. Any other input?”
Viss spoke up. “The ship’s in good shape,” he said. “We don’t have any worries in that department, except the burst drive. Even that might not be a problem once I can get down there and open it up.”
“And I stocked up on everything before we left Mars,” Maja added. “Since we weren’t sure how long a mission this would be, I thought I’d better err on the side of caution. We’re good for about two months, more if we ration.” She’d taken on the role of de facto provisions officer on our trip from Kiando to Earth. Since she’d opted to stay on board the Tane Ikai for a while and find out as an adult what far trading was like, I’d started her out learning the basics of running a ship, along with her navigator’s training. The basics always start with the question of how to survive when supplies are not readily available. She seemed to like her new position, and now I was pleased that she’d taken it seriously.
“Okej, I’m glad to hear some good news,” I said. “Now, what does everyone think about the second wormhole?”
“I don’t relish the idea of venturing into possible Chron territory with only a load of torpedoes on board,” Hirin said. I could tell he was seriously berating himself for not arming the Tane Ikai to the teeth when he’d had the chance, but who could have foreseen this situation?
“You couldn’t know what we’d be up against,” I said. “We’re lucky to have what we do, and that’s thanks to you.”
Baden leaned back in the comm chair, arms folded. “Well, we don’t know for sure that it is Chron territory,” he said. “Two ships came through there, and it was the Chron being chased. Maybe they were interlopers, sticking their noses somewhere they didn’t belong. It might not be a system under Chron control at all.”
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