by Marc Neuffer
The weak power signal was emanating from the last desk console on the right. No indicator lights or lit panels. Sweq moved in to get a better scan of the work-station.
Pointing, “The power source is behind this round access. It has a handle. The face unscrews.” She scanned further, “It’s a shallow cylindrical cavity, half-meter deep. Some thin metal-ceramic sheets or plates are inside, not connected to anything. There’s a small geodesic shape, mounted at the back, I can’t get much of an analysis of it though.”
Another, more specific scanner was brought over. Carl made some adjustments. “It’s a crude, weak stasis field. The source is the geodesic.”
Whatever was in the small cavity, someone had wanted it preserved. We left it for the science teams.
After examining every square meter of this level, we continued deeper into the sphere. In the center was a large, dormant power source. Thick cables ran outward, like roots, through stuffing tubes, into the outer areas of the sphere. Tracing them led us to the outer skin. We’d found the power source for the artificial sun.
Except for a few structurally weak areas, which we marked off, we had found nothing to hazard the follow-on teams. Two days of further exploration, our job was done. Leaving the hab-unit behind, we exfiltrated the way we’d come in; back to ground level, back to the sublayers, where we left the sleds, back to our ship. Showers and good food awaited us. We were going to stick around for another month in case a need arose for our skill sets. I doubted we would be called on. No ice dragons.
We set ourselves up as tourists to explore the interior landscape.
✽ ✽ ✽
Well, this was new. A village of sorts. Primitive in layout and construction, not at all like the scattered, undefined structures we’d found so far. It was far from those areas, as if the villagers had wanted a distance between them and the much older structures. Perhaps they had become superstitious of the original facilities. This area, or a similar one, had been their last attempt at maintaining a society; raising their version of families. I wondered how many generations had called this home, before the final breath had been taken.
The organics science team had found vestiges of what had probably been cultivated fields surrounding this place. Evidence remained of manually dug water courses, rock dams, and decayed sluice gates. The buildings were all of wood, rock, and dried-formed mud. Built not too long before the big freeze. It was here that remains were found, buried underneath hard, dirt-packed floors. Handmade trinkets had been sprinkled in the grave cavities.
Some obvious attempts had been made to emulate what had been their home planet’s topography; hills, valleys, rock outcroppings, large water basins. In its heyday, this environment could have easily supported over five-hundred million of their species.
I wondered how many had embarked on this lifeboat’s journey. Structural engineers had determined that this vessel had been built in equal-slices of interlocking, tapered sections. These sections aligned with the large, external hatches. Those hatches had been weld-sealed shut after completion.
Some sections looked like they’d been hastily put together. Metal joining in those places were crude weld or bolt jobs. Accelerated, entropic decay had occurred in large sections of the ship; cause to be determined. Whatever they had been running from had almost caught up to them, before launch.
While on call, we trekked out every day from Georgia to see the sights, choosing either the subterranean warrens or the frozen wasteland above. The underground housed all the environmental support systems and heavy – noisy, I’m sure – manufacturing facilities. Some areas had been left as is, sealed off. Others had been roughly scavenged and torn apart. It was in those areas we found a few, broken, spear-like shafts, suitable for impaling an enemy or neighbor.
Our tether time up, we were released from the mission. Heading home for some real R&R. I needed to get my hands on Donny. I was either going to strangle him or he was going to propose; his choice. I wasn’t going to wait as long as Mom had.
35 Meridian
Meridian: the great circle of the celestial sphere that passes through its poles and the observer's zenith; a pathway along which vital energy flows.
✽✽✽
Nine months later, the generation sphere ship was largely, still a mystery; its flight and purpose were unresolved. The small stasis drawer had contained the ships manual. Diagrams, equations and annotated maps of the ship had become the key to deciphering the volume.
Entropic evidence suggested, parts of the ship had been constructed millions of years before others, yet the design, and systems, throughout the ship, were consistent with a single, perhaps several hundred-year building period. The demarcation line was if someone had taken a knife and sliced off a third of the ship, then, seamlessly rejoined it. You could stand in some sections and straddle that invisible line; sections that appeared to have been built as a unit, one part much newer than the other, but with a smooth continuance; no physical demarcation.
Inside the center sphere, internal gravity, and a suitable environment had been restored by modern systems, by-passing the originals, which had been removed for study. Archaeologists and xeno-biologist were drunk with excitement. Scientist members of the Congress of Species had something else to poke at instead of each other.
✽ ✽ ✽
Mom and Dad threw me a huge wedding on Satchel. The type I’d wanted for them, a decade ago. The entire ‘Rift Clan’ and their families were there, along with my friends from high school and college. Even the team of Bears I’d worked with came, along with Dr. Fount and Forest. They were family.
Abby and Mica had scads of close acquaintances on the planet. I’d met half of them while growing up there. Of course, they had to be invited. During the planning, Donny took it like a man and stayed out of the way. His mother, not so much.
Dad rented an estate, close to the city, for Donny’s immediate family to use during their month-long stay. Members of his extended family and some friends, mostly the young adults, popped in and out during that time at any scent of a party weekend. I wouldn’t say there was debauchery during the intermixing of Satchelites and off-worlders, but it came damn close at times. Locals were always hungry for large groups of tourists.
Satchel is a beautiful world. In the infotainment vids, I was portrayed as an heiress, just to whip up more interest. For weeks our individual and family histories were put out there like a drama series.
I watched the one about Mom and Dad’s adventure, searching for the rift, specifically the part about Dad almost getting shot and kidnapped. To me it was hilarious. Dad was played by a lantern-jawed actor, whose previous role had been as an adventuring military ship captain named Flint Steel. I laughed a lot at the serious parts. That actor and actress missed portraying Mom and Dad correctly by a lightyear.
I have to admit; towards the end I was starting to feel like a princess; just a bit. Mom had a gentle way of bringing me back. Just finding time away, and alone with Donny was a spy thriller all its own. We had extra physical security and cloaked, Surron-made military drones around us all the time. I told Traveler if she archived any of my personal, private time records, I would demolish her AI core with a rock hammer.
The week of the wedding was non-stop, especially the festivities. I swear, Mom and Dad must have spent a gazillion credits, renting huge lodges, entire entertainment and dining venues, importing top bands and other notables for our enjoyment. Of course, Mom was the overall planner for those missions. She ran it like a military maneuver, with a staff of wedding planners shipped in; her colonels, she called them.
The ceremony was held in the city center which had undergone an overnight transformation from a bustling business and government center to an open-air music and food celebration. Huge vid screens hung everywhere. Drone cameras caught everything. It’s a bit shocking to look up and see your face filling a three-hundred-foot screen above city hall.
Dad and Mom both escorted me to where Donny stood with his ret
inue. Dad was just a happy clam. Mom leaned in and whispered something to Donny; he nodded. At the time, I envisioned her threatening him with seven layers of hell if he ever made me cry. Later, I learned it was a request for grandchildren.
✽ ✽ ✽
Donny and I were living at the house the Bears had built for Noah’s and my first visit to Shangri La. He was working on a project involving a unified life-theory with biologist and physicists from numerous races. I envied, but liked his ability to completely detach from work when at home. It was a skill he’d learned in college; said it made each new day a fresh experience and provided faster insights.
Mom and Dad had moved to a smaller house, built higher up the mountain. They said it was closer to the cold dark. Every time they said those two words, their eyes met, passing a greater understanding than I could comprehend.
✽ ✽ ✽
A hundred and twelve years after I was married, I found out what had caused the precise entropic sectioning of the ghost ship.
Somebody else, three, four billion years from now, will have to deal with that. If there is anyone left to care.
Other books in series
Book 1 on Amazon Kindle
Book 2 on Amazon Kindle