The Search

by Jim Laughter

  The ship lurched as its weak drive system reacted to the lack of his hand on the axis control ball. At the same moment, another beam sizzled past the DayStar close enough to light up the interior.

  The Unseen One is said to smile on fools and soldiers, and maybe it was true in this case for Delmar. Not more than a few light speed minutes away was an Axia two-man patroller on long range patrol seeking out evidence of any Red-tail activity in this sparsely populated section of space. Long experience had taught the Axia the prudence of occasionally checking such locations. You learned that the enemy didn't always come knocking at the front door.

  "I’ve got something on long-range sensors,” the Trooper manning Tactical said. "Sector 22-B. I'm picking up some sort of weapons activity."

  "Reset for Red-tails,” the captain ordered from the control seat. "Changing course now."

  "On it.”

  He readjusted his equipment. Sure enough, he got a red trace on the screen, along with a second weaker signal.

  "Status,” the captain said.

  It only took a moment to arm the torpedoes and make sure the heat rays were fully charged.

  "Definite Red-tail trace and what appears to be another ship," Tactical answered.

  "Friend or enemy?"

  "Can’t tell. But it’s either civilian or Axia from the return. He's not putting out the usual ID signal."

  "We'll find out soon enough,” the captain said. "Better suit up and break out mine as well. No telling what we're walking into."

  After pulling on his pressure suit, he traded places with the captain. All they left open were the clear face plates that would snap shut in case of cabin pressure failure.

  It only took a few seconds before the men had traded places again and the tactical officer returned to his station.

  "I'm still not getting a distress signal,” he called out. "But it’s definitely a single-man ship and he’s in a world of trouble."

  "Sure is an old one,” the captain said, noting the configuration on the screen. "Didn't think there was any of that class still in service."

  "You never know,” tactical answered as he activated the comm. "Axia Patroller RF-4227 calling unidentified ship. What's your situation?"

  Delmar's heart jumped at the sound of the voice calling out from his short-range comm speaker. He activated the mic on his comm.

  “I’m in a tight spot!” Delmar yelled back. "Power weakening and this guy is hungry!"

  Back aboard the patroller, the captain listened intently.

  "RF-4227 calling unidentified ship. Your signal is breaking up and you’re identification transponder beacon doesn’t seem to be working. Please identify yourself.”

  “I’m a little busy right now, RF-4227,” Delmar answered. “I need help! I’ll introduce myself if I live through this attack!”

  “We're headed your way. Estimate time to intercept, two minutes."

  “Two minutes? I’ll be toast in two minutes,” answered Delmar, but all he heard was the unwelcome crackle from his comm speaker.

  His heart sank. His comm system was only partially operational.

  Probably lost an antenna. I wonder how they knew I was here?

  Another shudder rocked the ship as a heat ray brushed the side of the DayStar. Delmar rolled away from the blow and prayed the ship could take it. The tired DayStar groaned under the strain but held together.

  Come to think of it, I really don’t care as long as they get here quick.

  "That was too close!" he said aloud.

  Delmar considered the situation he was in. If he’d been aboard the Cabbage Patch, this monster from the Hadeous Galaxy would be dead by now. But he wasn’t in the Patch. He was in a patroller he’d purloined from a scrapyard.

  What kind of foolishness made me think I could survive a trip across the galaxy in a ship scheduled for recycling?

  "You can't hold out like this,” he said to himself. "In two minutes this ship will be a burnt cinder."

  "You're flying defensively,” a voice from somewhere in his past said. "Remember your tactical training. Change the equation. Be unpredictable."

  Another heat ray shot past, this time on the opposite side.

  This guy is one-dimensional, Delmar thought. Not only that, but Red-tail ships only have weaponry on the front, so they have to be facing their targets.

  With all of his twisting and turning, the DayStar was completely off course, and without navigationals, Delmar knew he had to look for any escape he could find. Scanning his sensors, he noted a small asteroid field ahead. It was still a considerable distance away, but if he could get to it, he could hide there. Better yet, he could use it as a weapon. He twisted the DayStar around and headed for it.

  The crew in the Axia patroller arrived just in time to see the flash of the Red-tail heat ray. The ship in distress was pulling away and appeared to be heading toward an asteroid field some distance away, the Red-tail in pursuit.

  "There they are!" the captain said and spun his axis ball. He nudged his throttle forward in an effort to overtake the fleeing ships and watched while the enemy vessel closed in on the old patroller.

  "He's in trouble,” the navigator said. He watched the Red-tail fire a heat ray that grazed the old patroller.

  "Arm a torp,” the captain ordered. "I don’t think he’s seen us yet. I want one shot when we’re close enough to launch manually.”

  Normally, a torpedo is accurate at ranges much farther away than they were from the Red-tail, but that required an automated system. With the way both ships were twisting and turning, and with the patroller in such close proximity, he did not trust the automatic guidance system enough to tell the two ships apart. Better to get in close and use either the heat ray or do a manual snapshot at the Red-tail.

  "I don't think he’s going to make the asteroid field,” he said while he watched the DayStar slowing prior to entering the debris. The Red-tail saw it too and leapt forward at the old ship, holding his fire.

  That was just what Delmar was hoping. He figured by slowing, the Red-tail would change tactics and consider a board-and-capture instead just burning the DayStar down. He figured this Red-tail was hungry. They prefer their meals still alive when they tear into them. The acceleration of the enemy ship, which showed on the detector screen, confirmed this. The Red-tail was now in very close pursuit.

  "Got you now!" Delmar cried as he abruptly swung the DayStar around a particularly large piece of floating rock. Just as he did, he fired the heat ray, instantly splitting it in two. The Red-tail, still intent on fresh meat for his larder, failed to see the shot. With his mind on food instead of his mission, he flew into a piece of jagged rock nearly the size of his ship. It exploded in a blinding flash of light.

  “He got him!"

  The flash of the explosion lit the asteroid field around him. Although elated, he still had to maneuver through this mess or there would be another explosion – him. He also had to figure out a way to evade the Axia patroller or he’d find himself explaining how he happened to be in this sector of space in a ship without a navigational or emergency rescue beacon. It wouldn’t take but one long-range communication for the other patroller to learn he was in a stolen ship.

  Without a second thought, he picked a spot in the field of stone hurtling through space that appeared have the largest opening and pushed his throttle forward into the red arc, shooting away in a flash of light. He hoped the patroller would think he’d been destroyed in the explosion. He also hoped he wouldn’t hit a stray asteroid and actually become a part of it.

  The patroller arrived at the asteroid field and vectored around to match the course of the large rock the Red-tail ship had hit. Pieces of red metal littered its surface and floated in space around it. There was no sign of the ancient patroller they’d been intent on rescuing.

  “Try to contact that other ship,” he ordered.

  “RF-4227 to unidentified patroller. Please respond.”

  The trooper on tactical scanned the area, se
arching for any sign of the patroller. Only static emitted from the console.

  “He’s not anywhere on our scopes. I don’t think he made it.”

  “Try again. If that doesn’t work, try short and long range scan. He may have external damage that he’s not aware of.”

  “Yes sir. RF-4227 to unidentified patroller. Please respond.”

  There was no answer. The comm crackled only static, and the detector screen was blank.

  “Did you get a configuration on that old patroller?” the captain asked the tactical officer.

  “Yes sir,” he answered. “If I read this right, it was a C-34 Interstellar. But that model has been out of service for nearly a quarter of a century.”

  “That was the strangest encounter I’ve ever had,” the navigator said. “And what is it with that old C-34? Why would a ship like that be out here this far off the shipping lanes?”

  "I don’t know. Maybe we better swing back along their flight path. He might have been part of a convoy that got separated from the rest. Besides, where there's one Red-tail, there's probably more."

  The trooper on tactical checked his scopes and scanner again. There was no sign of the DayStar.

  "Either he got away or he didn’t make it. I don’t see any debris from his ship.”

  “Log it and we’ll report the encounter when we return to base.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Aboard the DayStar, Delmar breathed a sigh of relief. Not only was he alive, but the Axia patroller that tried to rescue him was leaving without pursuit. Common courtesy usually entailed thanking ships that came to help, but no one pried if you didn't always answer. Sometimes a ship was on assignment and under orders to avoid unnecessary communications with others. This was understood by all captains, so Delmar knew they would not be alarmed or insulted. Then again, they may have thought he was destroyed in the battle with the Red-tail scavenger. Either way, he knew they’d enter the encounter in their log and report it when they returned to their base at the end of their patrol.

  Delmar slowed the DayStar and began to assess the damage. From the way the comm failed, he suspected the Red-tail had burned off his antenna with that one close blast. That the Axia patroller had responded at all was a miracle since the emergency signal broadcast had not been working. Delmar added that to the list of faults he now knew about the DayStar. If he needed the comm again, he would have to suit up and go outside and fix the antenna. But that could wait. Right now he knew he’d better power down everything he could and see what was left of his limited reserves.

  He brought the DayStar to a stop and powered down all unnecessary systems, including the comm and most of the lights. Looking over the power meters, he saw the fight with the Red-tail had cost him half his remaining power. His shoulders slumped. This was definitely going to limit his options.

  Pulling out his charts and scanning the star systems around him, Delmar began to recalculate his route. This was going to be more difficult than he first expected.

  ∞∞∞

  The gentle strains of a stringed quartet played in the background while Stan poured over the data printout. To one side a cup of cold coffee perched on the verge of being pushed off the desk by other stacks of printouts. Although the music all but drowned out the normal ship sounds of the Aurora, he was still able to hear the soft footsteps of his wife, Leatha, as she approached from behind him.

  "Up kind of late, aren't you,” he asked without turning.

  Leatha, still not used to Stan's ability to know when she approached, reacted with a start.

  "Look who's talking,” she said. Without a side-glance, she rescued the teetering coffee cup. "Want a refill?"

  "I better not.”

  He straightened up and tried to stretch the kinks out of his back.

  "Any luck finding your glitch?"

  Stan had been pouring over the printouts for days trying to find out why the sensor probes they had launched were sending back nothing but gibberish. He’d much rather trace anomalies on the screen, but sometimes the only way to find a glitch was to have a physical printout where he could follow a line of logic from page to page.

  "No,” Stan said with a sigh. "In fact, if it’s possible, I think I'm getting further from the answer."

  "Then take a break or get some help,” Leatha suggested. "What about calling Ert?"

  "I've been waiting on that,” Stan answered. "I want to try to figure this mess out before I call him in."

  "Salvaging your pride, huh?" Leatha said with a smile. “Men!”

  Just then, the comm board beeped. Leatha stepped over to check the incoming message.

  "Looks like he's already on to you,” she said, looking up at her bedraggled husband.

  "Huh?"

  "Are you going to take this call or not?" Leatha asked impatiently. "It's from Ert." Stan shrugged.

  Taking the keyboard, he began typing. "Well hello.”

  GREETINGS FRIEND, Ert replied. FIND YOUR GLITCH YET?

  How did you know? Stan typed back.

  BECAUSE I DETECTED YOUR EQUIPMENT IN STAND-BY MODE. Ert replied. HAD IT BEEN WORKING PROPERLY, YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN ACTIVELY SCANNING. SO YOU HAVE A GLITCH.

  "Can't fool him,” Leatha remarked while reading the screen.

  What can you do to help? Stan typed on the keyboard.

  THAT LITTLE GLITCH IS YOUR PROBLEM, Ert answered. BUT RIGHT NOW WE’VE GOT BIGGER COOKIES TO BAKE.

  Stan set aside his data printouts while Leatha sat down on the arm of his chair.

  Trouble? Stan typed.

  I THINK THERE IS A SITUATION ARISING THAT MIGHT INTEREST YOU.

  What is it? Stan asked. What we're studying out here is pretty interesting.

  I AGREE WITH YOUR ASSESSMENT, Ert replied. BUT THIS IS MORE PERSONAL. DELMAR IS MISSING.

  Stan and Leatha both stared at the screen.

  “Again?" they said in unison.

  Fill us in, Stan typed into the keyboard.

  HE DISAPPEARED FROM THE HASSEL FARM A FEW DAYS AGO, Ert replied. HE REPORTED TO THE JASPER REPAIR STATION AND HAS NOT TURNED UP SINCE.

  Did they search the facility? Stan typed back.

  THAT IS ONGOING, AND I AM WAITING FOR ANY REPORTS ABOUT IT.

  Do you think we should come? Stan asked.

  THAT WOULD BE ADVISEABLE. I WILL CONTINUE TO MONITOR DEVELOPMENTS AND KEEP YOU POSTED.

  "I'm on it,” Leatha said as she strapped into the control seat of the Aurora. Stan felt the ship gather her legs for a fast jump.

  We're on our way, Stan typed.

  After hitting send, he called over to Leatha. "Heading to Erdinata?”

  "At least it's a start,” she said. She shoved the throttle and the Aurora leapt forward.

  We're heading for Erdinata, Stan typed.

  A GOOD PLACE TO START, Ert replied. HOWEVER, I SUSPECT THAT IT WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING. I WILL LET YOU KNOW WHEN I HAVE CLEAR EVIDENCE OF ANYTHING DIFFERENT.

  Thanks, Stan typed. The screen went blank.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Struggling with makeshift repairs, Delmar tried not to contemplate the endless black void of space below his dangling feet. Although he had been in space a few years now, he still felt uneasy when outside a ship. One got used to the feel of solid steel underfoot and around you, protecting you from the indifference of space.

  With another twist of the worn wrench, he tightened the clamp he was using to splice a substitute antenna to the stub of the one burned off in the Red-tail attack. In truth, the rod he was using for the repair had come from one of the auxiliary power drives on the back of the ship. He remembered using a similar tactic on his final mission during basic training after his training cruise had been shot down by Red-tail invaders. But it was as close as he could find for a replacement antenna. He hoped what it lacked in visual appeal it made up for in effectiveness.

  Delmar reached up to brush the sweat from his eyes. The clear faceplate of the spacesuit prevented this involuntary action. All he could do now was
try to blink the sweat away. This was another thing. The old suit he had scrounged from one of the other derelict ships was not up to current specifications. Considering the way it was already starting to stink from his sweat, it was an indication the atmospheric circulation system was operating at less than optimal efficiency. He figured it would only be good for a maximum of a day or two instead of the full week of wear the suits were normally designed to handle. Thankfully, the oxygen supply system was functioning or he would be in very serious trouble indeed.

  That was something else Delmar felt pressing in the back of his mind as he made his way to the hatch of the DayStar. Trouble. In his case, he was in a lot of it for stealing – borrowing Delmar reminded himself without conviction, the DayStar. Even now, he wondered about the wild notion that had taken hold of him and propelled him on this ill-advised adventure. Still he was in too deep now to go back, so he decided to see this through and face the consequences later. It was that later part that worried him the most.

  Entering the hatch, Delmar cycled the airlock and walked to the cabin of the DayStar. Although he wanted to try out the antenna, he decided it would be better to peel off the suit and service it first. His brush with the Red-tail had heightened his caution in this rarely traveled sector of space.

  It only took him a half hour to freshen the suit and recharge its systems. He was again appreciative of the relatively good condition of the clear spacesuit. That it had been forgotten aboard one of the other ships had been a welcome surprise. Hanging it back up in the locker, he finally turned to the comm unit.

  Mindful of his limited power, Delmar warmed the comm by using the standby generator and then tuned it to receive. He immediately heard the usual chatter of other ships far from his lonely location.

  Good. At least I'll be able to yell for help if I need it again.

  With the flip of a switch, he turned the comm off and climbed back into the worn control seat. He consulted his chart and punched the new heading into the navigational system. The starfield shifted in response as the ship aligned itself to the new vector.