Mother of Mars, page 20
part #2 of Mars Ascendant Series
She elbowed him out of her way as she pressed forward for a better view of the readout.
“Maybe it’s hollow?” she posited.
Her reasoning impressed him. “That is one possibility. Another might be a much lower density interior, but it would need to be less dense than refined titanium to match our readings. The fact that the vessel finds it to be of such interest suggests to me that…”
“It is also of alien origin,” Dani said, finishing his sentence and looking up at him.
He smiled. “I would be surprised if it were not.”
“So now what do we do?”
The smile quickly fell from his face as he considered her question.
“We have to go down there,” said Dani.
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Setting down on something that small is extremely difficult, even with planning and the right kind of vessel. This is not an asteroid miner.”
“Like I said before, we used to attach to these things all the time, and in ships bigger than this one.” She frowned when Felix didn’t respond. “Are you losing your nerve?”
“What do you propose we do after landing?”
“You have pressure suits, don’t you? We go looking for Mel.”
“In case you forgot, that object is composed of the same nanites that are the Ares weapon.”
“I know. Mel told me all about that. Our spacesuits should protect us from direct exposure to them.” She stared at him while he considered her argument. After a long pause, growing impatient, she prompted him. “You wanted to catch it. What was the plan for when you did?”
He frowned. He was not accustomed to having his judgement challenged. She was, of course, correct. Having caught up with the alien vessel, he had little recourse than to explore it in the hope whatever technology it possessed could be exploited. Such a find went far beyond his master’s limited vision. Everything possible needed to be discovered, including Melanie Destin’s connection to it all.
“Since you claim the requisite experience, can you pilot us there?” he asked.
A broad smile stretched across her face, and he admired how much more attractive she appeared when she smiled. “Duh. Naturally.”
Dani advanced to the helm, and Felix indicated the helmsman should vacate his position for her.
After a few minutes to familiarize herself with the controls, Dani entered commands, and they moved toward the asteroid. Felix fixed his attention to the main viewer as the asteroid grew larger at their approach.
His eyes on the screen, he addressed Dani. “You may no longer need to land us on it.”
“Huh?” She looked up at him, annoyed. “Why not?”
He nodded to the image. The surface of the alien ship had changed, and an opening appeared, big enough for them to enter.
“It would appear we are expected.”
Chapter 38
Panic seized me as I suddenly saw my body. My real body. I perceived it simultaneously from multiple points of view, as if through millions of eyes. I was naked and floated, suspended in some kind of viscous fluid inside a translucent, coffin-sized pod. I couldn’t feel anything, though, and I understood my consciousness still lay outside, connected to the reality of the Continuum.
I’d worked hard to obtain that shocking revelation. What seemed like days had passed in my search. Since I experienced no physical fatigue, there was nothing to deter me from focusing every thought on a singular objective. Like a rat sniffing out a maze, I journeyed down a seemingly infinite number of pathways within the virtual reality I occupied. At every turn I met a solid wall that resisted every effort on my part to pull down, until I shifted focus and searched a different corridor, only to repeat the process.
Just when I started to think the aliens toyed with me and would never allow me any real progress, everything changed. The resistance I experienced weakened, and I found it easier to push through until they began to fall before my onslaught like paper walls to a sharp knife.
Without being told, I knew the life functions of my body were suspended, hovering between life and death. Though not breathing, the lungs were filled with the same oxygen-rich gel that surrounded the entire body and maintained it at a temperature just above absolute zero. The biological activity of every cell was as close to null as possible, halting both decay and replication.
The Continuum no longer hindered my explorations, whether bored by my persistence or preoccupied elsewhere, I didn’t care. Their neglect of me gave me the opportunity to extend my perceptions and appreciate where they had confined me, or at least my mind.
Unlike the virtual world occupied by my consciousness, the reality of the vessel that had spirited me off the planet was very different. There were no floors or rooms. The silver obelisk dominated the central axis of a long, dark cylindrical chamber that extended off into the distance in either direction. Attached to the inner hull were thousands of pods like the one I physically occupied. Every one of them was empty, intended receptacles for the others like me, those of us who would provide the seed DNA for the next iteration of life on Earth.
Curious as to why the aliens had relented and allowed me to explore my prison, I searched farther to locate them. I understood the folly of looking for my captors, but the truth was, I was alone and seeing my real body, trapped like a fly in amber, reinforced the emptiness solitude often brings. I craved the company of others, even if they were alien machines.
As I pushed my perception out from me, I considered the manner in which I perceived the space around me. My physical reality was observable from multiple points of view simultaneously, just as had been my body in its pod. Every nanite composing the ship’s interior behaved like a tiny camera that fed its viewpoint to me at once. My human brain would never have been able to process such a magnitude of information. The Continuum itself must have been distilling the data into a form I was capable of understanding.
Though part of the collective intelligence, the nanites no longer seemed to function in full cognitive connection with each other. They passively witnessed everything around them and fed me the information once I’d learned to access it, but their attention was elsewhere in a place to which they did not admit me.
I eagerly explored farther, eager to gain a complete picture of the alien vessel and where it was. I had no idea what I would do with such knowledge, but with little else to do, I thought it best to learn as much as possible in case a means of escape presented itself in the process.
With no resistance, I needed little time to assess the situation. We had arrived at the asteroid Lilith told me about, their damaged Genesis craft. Over the aeons it spent in orbit about the sun, it had accumulated a coating of dust and planetary debris to the point that it became indistinguishable from a million other asteroids. The ship had joined with it, and the two were merging into a single structure as the nanites collectively repaired the damage. Convinced of my uselessness to aid in the repairs, they confined me and focused all of their efforts effecting repair.
I wondered if they thought by abandoning me I would become desperate enough to arrive at their way of thinking, but I quickly recognized that was a human sentiment, and they had no intention of persuading me of anything. They locked me away and gave me no further consideration. I doubt they imagined my persistence would allow me to roam free throughout their reality.
Not content to leave well enough alone, I pushed my perception through the hull and began to perceive the exterior. The outside nanites had gotten the worst of the deal, I thought. They looked out into the blackness of space, the darkness punctuated by the distant stars.
Taking a moment to contemplate the enveloping void, I appreciated the vantage point of having millions of eyes through which to observe. The images via the collective nanites were amazingly detailed. I could resolve things impossible for a human observer using conventional instruments, and I found myself awed by the beauty unfolding before me.
A small, insignificant object came into view, and I soon appreciated that it was a ship. A heaviness came upon me when I realized I was invisible to them, now effectively being a part of the rock, and they would most likely pass by without as much as a casual glance. Though I could see them, I had no means of sending any signal to ask for a rescue.
Helpless, I obsessively focused on the passing vessel in the hope it would sense my presence and stop. Then, to my great shock, it did exactly that. The small, sleek craft fired braking engines and halted relative to me.
Something had caught their eye. Maybe our exterior attached to the asteroid attracted their attention, at least for a second look, but would it pique their curiosity to approach? I wanted them to come closer, perhaps land and explore, finding and rescuing me in the process. I imagined myself standing on a desert island, like Robinson Crusoe, waving at passing ships, except I had no way to wave at them.
I was angry at my limitations. In my virtual world, without the interference of the Continuum, I had control of my environment. If only I had the same influence on the actual nanites that composed the ship.
As I thought about it, I questioned why it wouldn’t be possible. I was already able to observe the world around me through them. What was to stop me from extending that to something more? It needn’t be much. If I could create some kind of movement among the exterior nanites, it might prompt the other ship’s occupants to come and look closer.
Focusing attention on my goal, I shut out the perception information, blinding myself to everything else. I didn’t need to see them as much as I needed them to see me.
My mind probed along the outer hull in search of any portion of it more susceptible to my influence. When I came to the edge where it was in contact with the rocky encrustation of the Genesis craft, I determined that these nanites were only connected on one side and were the best candidates to be the weak links.
Like a spine injury patient trying to wiggle his toes, I poured my energies into the spot, willing it to move in some manner. For the first time I felt a mental strain and worried that no matter what I did, it would not be enough.
When I could sustain the effort no longer, I relented and hungrily reconnected to the observational data. As I regrouped myself for another attempt, the small ship fired manoeuvring thrusters and moved closer.
Had I access to my heart, it would have leapt for joy. As it was, I was gratified I’d succeeded in attracting the right kind of attention for a change. Now I was burdened with cognizance that even if they arrived at the asteroid to investigate, they had no means of getting inside, let alone discovering me.
Emboldened by my success, I focused on the ship’s surface once more in an attempt to create an opening for them.
Chapter 39
Dani expertly piloted Valerian through the small orifice in the hull of the alien spaceship. Felix glanced to his fidgeting pilot, who had good reason to be anxious. The gap Dani took them through had less clearance than any conventional hangar, being barely as wide as the ship itself.
She remarked over her shoulder, “Relax, boys. I’ve been piloting since I was six. We used to land our skimmers all the time inside ice caverns on Europa with openings not much bigger than this.”
In spite of the confidence he wanted to exude to his crew, Felix winced and caught himself holding his breath as Valerian squeezed its way through, leaving very little room on either side.
When they cleared the entrance and were inside, Dani exhaled loudly and announced, “Of course, our mining ship was a lot smaller than this.” She punctuated the statement with a toothy grin directed at Felix.
After relinquishing the chair to the annoyed pilot, she stood beside Felix, joining him in the study of the great ship’s interior on the bridge monitor. He surreptitiously glanced at her diminutive figure for a moment before returning his attention to the screen.
The cavernous alien vessel was black emptiness, illuminated in spots only by Valerian’s external searchlights. It seemed to extend endlessly into the darkness.
“There’s nothing here,” said Dani.
Before Felix could respond, his helmsman alerted him that the entrance was shutting. Felix switched the monitor feed to catch the last flicker of vanishing starlight as the collapsing doorway trapped them inside.
“Well, shit.” Dani looked worriedly at Felix. “Now what?”
He frowned but kept silent as he studied a readout. “There is a breathable atmosphere outside.”
“Is that even possible?” asked Dani.
Felix fixed her with a withering stare. “Obviously.” He returned his attention to the console. “And there is a new opening forming on the inner wall, but it is only two metres square.”
Dani joined him to examine the data. “But it IS big enough for you and me to enter.”
“I don’t think that would be wise.”
“Why not? If these guys meant us any harm, they wouldn’t be rolling out the red carpet like this. Somebody wants us to go in there.”
“We could also use our missiles to blow an exit in the hull and escape while the opportunity exists. We located this alien vessel and now should return with a science team.”
“Are you serious? You followed this thing all the way here, and now, after catching it, you plan to run away?”
“There is some question as to who caught whom.”
She ignored his comment. “They gave us a breathable atmosphere and opened the front door. We’re being invited inside. We need to go in and find Mel.”
“I do not believe she is still alive, I’m sorry.”
Dani glared at him, hands on her hips. “Well, I do. I will go alone if necessary. You can leave if you want.”
Felix stared at her for several seconds. Her determined expression never wavered, making it clear she meant every word. Finally, he instructed the pilot to train the ship’s armaments at the now closed wall. “If we do not return in two hours; if you come under attack or if you lose communications with us, you are ordered to escape by any means and report everything to our master.”
He returned his attention to a delighted Dani and added, “We will be wearing spacesuits. Atmosphere or no, this structure is still composed of Ares nanites.”
She nodded solemnly. “Yes, sir.” Her face then lit up again with a big smile.
Felix and Dani floated from the outer airlock doorway of Valerian, then activated the manoeuvring jets built into the suits. Felix was impressed by the familiar ease Dani exhibited as she jetted away from the hatch without hesitation. He found himself hard pressed to catch up with her as she raced toward the opening in the alien vessel’s inner wall. Nearing their objective, he shone his helmet lights along it to reveal multiple rows of pod-like attachments, each about two metres long and large enough for a person to fit inside. Intrigued, he redirected his forward momentum to allow him closer inspection of one.
Like the appearance of the ship itself, the pod possessed a rough texture, as if poured into place like poorly moulded concrete. Set into the top of it was a semitransparent window, which allowed him to confirm the thing was unoccupied. Felix played his searchlight over the entire structure, unsuccessfully searching for any hinge or latch by which it could be opened.
“Hey, what are you doing up there?” Dani’s voice crackled over his helmet’s speaker.
“It’s empty.” He directed his light upward. “There are thousands of them.”
“What do you think they’re for?”
“If I were to hazard a guess, they appear to be containers, though I could find no means of opening the one I inspected.” He joined her and was caught off guard by the tug of gravity that pulled him to the rough, pebbly floor at the entrance in the wall. He clumsily fought to retain his balance and was silently grateful his helmet visor hid from Dani the surprise he felt, embarrassed as he was by the ungraceful landing.
“Yeah, I was a little surprised too,” she said. “It seems to be Terran normal.”
He shone his light into the black interior. “It extends some distance inside.” Felix walked forward alone for ten paces before turning around to address Dani. “Are you coming?”
“Oh, of course,” she said and hurried to join him.
Together they advanced, shining their lights around them. Felix examined a readout on the sleeve of his suit. “The temperature is fifteen degrees Celsius.”
“Not exactly balmy but comfortable. Are you still unconvinced we are being welcomed?”
“It would seem you are correct, though I am concerned as to why we are being accommodated.”
“You think it’s some elaborate trap?” she asked.
“That is one strong possibility. Perhaps we are the intended occupants of those pods outside.”
Dani halted. “Okay, I didn’t consider that. Now I am officially scared.”
Felix, continuing past her, replied, “You’re welcome to return to Valerian if you wish.” He heard her sigh and saw her light beam join his as she hurried to catch up. He smiled but thought it best to make no further mention of it.
They proceeded along the dark tunnel for several minutes, pausing only long enough to send a status report back to their ship. Abruptly, they came upon a wall blocking their advance. Hanging vertically from it was another of the pods. They approached and illuminated it.
“Someone’s inside!” Dani shouted.
Felix’s light joined hers to probe into the pod’s semitransparent covering. Barely discernible, a humanoid form stirred within. As they both watched in silent fascination, the lazy moments of the occupant became more pronounced until they were frantic.
“It seems to be waking up,” said Dani, her eyes fixed on the struggling being. “We’ve got to do something.”
Felix played his beam of light around the entire pod. “I can’t find any way to open it.”
