Final Frontier, page 5
Then, there was the warp drive. It had been over eleven hours since they engaged the drive. The deck plates had been vibrating the entire time from the power driving the warp nacelles. Initially, there were concerns that the ship would fly apart. The concerns only got worse as the hours dragged on. Mandrel and Krishnik attempted to reassure the crew with a ship-wide announcement that all was well and that the vibrations were normal. Most seemed to accept the reassurance, but a few in the mess hall were still visibly bothered by the constant shaking.
“We are arriving at the coordinates,” Josef reported.
“Decelerate to sublight,” Hamilton said.
The intensity of the vibrations beneath Ken’s feet decreased. On the main viewscreen, the streaks of light that were present since they engaged the warp engines returned to a familiar starscape.
“Now at sublight speed,” Josef said.
The door behind them opened with a mechanical hum. Gross stepped onto the bridge, her red hair in disarray, her uniform jacket missing, and the top two buttons of her shirt undone. Casey, Yanova, and Sakaguchi followed her, joining Sharesk behind the captain. “Gross, I thought you had retired for the night,” Hamilton said.
“I couldn’t sleep, knowing that we’re headed straight into an area that has already claimed a dozen starships.” She finished with a notable bite in her voice.
“Noted, Lieutenant,” Hamilton said firmly.
“There is still time to turn away,” Sharesk said. “Please, turn away. For your ship and crew.”
“I agree with the Peridjinn representative,” Sakaguchi said.
Ken opened his mouth to voice his agreement, but the captain spoke up, determined. “And I say we may learn something about what is here that is claiming starships. Wouldn’t the Peridjinn like something conclusive to put in the reports of their missing ships?”
“I agree with Captain Hamilton,” Yanova said.
“Thank you,” Hamilton said, this time appreciatively. Again, Ken opened his mouth to voice his objection, but stopped. The captain already knew his position. With one officer already voicing her objection and two of the representatives aligning with her, loyalty compelled him to side with his captain. “Stoner, are the sensors working?” Hamilton asked, unaware of the conflict within Ken’s mind.
“Yes, Captain. Sensors are operational and recording. Nothing so far.”
“Josef, confirm our coordinates.”
“Coordinates confirmed. The probe originated from here.”
They continued forward. Everyone on the bridge was still for several minutes. The minutes seemed to stretch into eternity, the only sound being the steady beeping of controls and readouts. On the viewscreen, the space ahead of them was still. Ken looked down at his tactical screen. All clear there, too.
Then, an alarm sounded from the science console, drawing all eyes to Stoner. “There!” she cried, perhaps a little louder than necessary. “Activity off forward-port quarter—ten o’clock position. Are those tachyon particles?”
“I thought tachyon particles were hypothetical,” Ken said.
“Not anymore, it would seem.”
“Josef, ten degrees to port,” Hamilton said. “Then, cut ion engines. Thrusters and inertia only. We’ll gather as much information as we can and transmit it back to Earth.”
Josef played his controls. On the screen, the starfield shifted.
“Activity increasing from the particles,” Stoner said.
A flash on the viewscreen bleached the bridge in a sudden white light, drawing all eyes forward. Where a moment ago there had been clear space ahead, there was now what looked like a small white star pulsing brilliantly. Ken gripped his console as the ship shuttered and deckplates rumbled beneath his feet. “Have the warp engines reactivated?”
“Negative,” Josef answered.
“But we are being pulled forward,” de Seleaux added. “Toward that light.”
“We must leave, Captain Hamilton!” Sharesk said.
“Josef, hard to starboard,” Hamilton ordered. “Full power to ion engines. Stoner, send to communications whatever information you got on this anomaly. Gross, send it to Earth as soon as you have it.”
The viewscreen shifted again, this time away from the new “star”. Vibrations in the deckplates increased until the whole ship rattled. “We are still being pulled in,” de Seleaux said.
“We’re caught in a gravitational field, generated by that...tear in space,” Stoner said.
Just like the Krask, Ken thought. “Josef, engage warp engines. Full power.”
“Warp engines firing.” The ship creaked around them under the strain.
“We are being pulled in faster,” de Seleaux said.
“I demand you get us out of this, Captain,” Yanova said, “if you wish to avoid incident.”
“That doesn’t seem possible,” Josef said. “Warp engines at full power.”
“Engine room reporting power output from the warp nacelles are red-lining,” the night-watch ensign reported from communications.
A visibly worried Hamilton looked around the bridge, not sure what to do. Ken didn’t envy his position. He had ignored warnings, leading Humanity’s first starship toward destruction less than twenty-four hours into their maiden voyage. Possible destruction. The fates of the missing ships were unknown, though the fact that the Republic obviously never heard from them again was concerning. “Now you see, Captain Hamilton,” Sharesk said.
“Gross, have you sent the message to Earth?” the captain asked.
“Message sent. But there’s so much interference from that thing, I canna be certain it got through.”
“Signal all hands: brace yourselves.” Brace for what, Ken wondered to himself. Hamilton continued, “Josef, shut down the engines.”
“You can’t be serious!” Casey exclaimed. “We’ll be pulled into who-knows-where!”
Ken held his eyes on the captain, uncertain if he had just heard him correctly. He opened his mouth to voice his objection, but he didn’t exactly have any other ideas. Neither ion nor warp engines were doing any good. “We’re being pulled in anyways,” he said instead. “I suggest you hold onto the rail.”
“Engines shut down,” Josef confirmed. The vibrations beneath Ken’s feet seemed to lessen, though not by much.
A moment later, the ship lurched, and a brilliant white light again filled the screen just before everything went black.
CHAPTER 5
Earth Calendar: 998,368 B.C.
GOVKOR FLOATED helplessly in space. He did not require an atmosphere, but he was stranded without a ship. The moment stretched on, his track of time lost. Somewhere out there in that endless black expanse, a Zirquin fleet was approaching Epitara. He needed to warn them!
He concentrated his mind, searching the surrounding space for a Zargon ship or another friendly ship that the Zirquin might have missed. Nothing, but he kept alert for activity.
There! Less than a light-year away. A disturbance in space—like a fold corridor opening. A flash of white, followed by the appearance of a ship. Was it dead? It drifted as if powerless. Govkor concentrated on the beings within. Bipedal creatures, standing upright, gas-breathers. They were alive, Govkor confirmed with relief. But if their ship was non-functional...
*
Hobart awoke to find himself weightless in his quarters. The emergency lights were on, casting an eerie blue glow throughout the room. He buttoned up his shirt and pushed himself toward the door. He found the manual release and pulled down, opening the door just enough for him to push it into the wall.
He pulled himself along the darkened corridor. Battery-powered emergency light fixtures, like the one in his quarters, lined the walls at regular intervals, providing the same eerie blue light as the only illumination. Indistinct voices echoed from somewhere on that deck. Eventually, he arrived at the door to the main engine control room, already partly open, and pulled himself in. Anderson was there, back turned to him, one hand holding onto the main console as she worked with the other. Lieutenant Juarez and Ensign Banks of the night crew attempted to steady themselves as they worked the secondary controls on the rear and starboard bulkheads. “Status?” he asked, gently pushing off the door to join Anderson.
“The ship jolted, and all power just shut off,” Juarez answered. “We’re still trying to determine the cause.”
Hobart held out a hand to catch the main console, halting his forward motion. “Has anyone checked the reactor?”
“Krishnik is checking it now,” Anderson said.
Hobart immediately looked through the viewport into the outer chamber. A figure floated near the inner chamber, prying open the hatch. In the dim light, Hobart made out the smooth head of a Peridjinn. He fumed—the alien didn’t even bother putting on a radiation suit—and glared at his assistant. “I thought I made it clear that the chambers were off-limits to our guests.”
Anderson met his stern eyes. “Yes, sir. But, considering the situation, I figured it was more important that we get the power back.”
Hobart held his scowl on her for a moment longer, trying to formulate a response, but she was right. With power down, so was everything else—including life support. He turned away from her and pushed toward the airlock, still open. He grumbled. He had familiarized Krishnik with their safety protocols before they left Eternity’s Edge. So far during this crisis, the alien had already ignored two of them—three, counting the ‘Authorized Personnel Only’ signs.
He pulled himself into the airlock and pushed the outer door closed. He slipped into a radiation suit and continued through the inner door, activating the flashlight mounted on his right arm. By now, the hatch to the inner chamber was open, the Peridjinn observer nowhere in sight. “Krishnik!” Hobart yelled as he pulled himself along the catwalk railing. “Damn it, Krishnik, wait!”
Hobart arrived at the hatch and pulled himself in. The three ring-shaped generators occupied the chamber, circling the central column. Winding stairways on either side of the inner chamber provided access to the upper and lower levels of the reactor. Smaller conduits branched off the mains that fed the nacelles, connecting with Generators One and Three. Krishnik was already examining the connection point between the main port conduit and the sub-conduits leading up to Generator One. “Weren’t you paying attention when I went over the safety protocols with you? This area was off-limits to you to ensure your safety!”
“No time,” Krishnik said, his voice even. “Regardless, your radiation suits are not designed for Peridjinn. Connections here in order. Would you like to help me inspect others, since you are here now?”
Hobart scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Sure. Then, maybe you’d like to inspect my work when I’m done. These are my engines!”
With a hand on the rail connected to the conduit, Krishnik swung around. It was hard to mistake the scowl in the alien eyes, even in the dimmed light. “Which is greater importance? Your pride or restoring power to the ship?”
Hobart matched the hard, alien eyes, trying to formulate a reply, and grumbled when none came. Restoring power as soon as possible—and, with it, the life support systems—was top priority. His skin was already clammy with sweat, and he was starting to have difficulty drawing breath. “I’ll take Generator Three and the starboard connections. You take Generator One and port connections.”
Krishnik dipped his head. “Agreed.”
*
One moment, white light flooded the bridge. Then, the ship lurched, throwing Casey and Sakaguchi against the rear bulkhead, and everything went dark. Blue emergency lights came on a moment later, just as Ken felt himself floating off his seat.
“What the hell? What’s happened to the gravity?” Casey demanded, accompanying Japanese exclamations.
Ken engaged his safety restraints, followed by the other officers seated around the bridge. Before anyone could answer, the ship lurched a second time. This time, Yanova yelled out a Russian curse. In the dim emergency lighting, Ken saw her joining Casey and Sakaguchi against the rear bulkhead.
“Probably what we passed through disrupted the reactor,” Sharesk said. “Without the reactor, the ship has no gravity control.”
“Hopefully, Mandrel and his team can restore power,” Ken said.
“Is there nothing we can do from here?” Sakaguchi asked.
“All the reactor connections are in the engine room,” Hamilton said. “All we can do is wait on Mandrel.”
They waited. The minutes dragged on. In the dim, blue light, Ken saw Gross, Casey, and the representatives trying to steady themselves, grabbing hold of consoles and the rail.
Ken felt his skin become clammy, and he was gasping for breath by the time a low-pitched whistle broke the silence. All around the bridge, consoles, screens, and the main lights flickered to life. Ken found the next breath much easier to draw. Behind him, audible thumps and cries of pain as people fell to the deck.
“Well done, Mandrel,” Hamilton said quietly while Ken examined his monitors as they rebooted. The captain undid his restraints and came to his feet, looking back at Gross and the guests. “Everyone alright?”
Gross picked herself up from her knees, and the Federation representatives did likewise. “Thank you, Sharesk,” the reporter said as the Peridjinn observer helped her up. “Just a little bumped, Captain.”
Ken turned his attention back to his console, now operating as smoothly as before. He called for a status report from all decks and lit the “A Deck” indicator green. One by one, the other six decks automatically signaled their status. All green. “All decks have reported green. No damage, and minor injuries only...” He trailed off as he sensed something deep in his mind. Help me, it said.
“What has happened?” Yanova asked.
“Good question,” Hamilton said. “As soon as I know, you’ll be the first to be informed.”
Help me. The readouts on Ken’s console blurred and the voices around him echoed as he concentrated on the silent call. He had a sudden urge to take the helm and proceed ninety degrees to port.
“In the meantime,” Hamilton continued, “please clear the bridge. Doctor Misra can examine any injuries you may have. Gross, show them the way.”
“Aye, sir.”
“I wish to check the engine room,” Sharesk said.
“You do that,” Hamilton said. “De Seleaux, can you get a fix on our position?”
“Josef, status of the engines?” Ken asked.
“The navigation computer is not recognizing the stars,” the navigator said as the door slid close behind the Peridjinn representative.
Help me. “We have thrusters and ion drive,” Josef said, distractedly. “Firing.”
Help me. Ninety degrees to port. “Then... take us ninety degrees to port,” Hamilton ordered hesitantly, as if unaware he was saying anything aloud.
Ken felt the deckplates rumble beneath his boots. The stars on the screen shifted as the ship turned. Help me. Continue forward. “Stoner, do you see anything?” he asked as he examined his own sensor screens.
“Just debris—metallic debris. Wait. I think there’s something else. It looks like a small cloud.”
*
As soon as the ship became active, Govkor reached out to the command crew and guided them toward him. Now that the ship was in sight, a wave of discouragement nearly caused him to release his hold on the creatures’ minds. The ship looked so primitive, it seemed barely capable of interstellar travel. He’ll never reach Epitara in time.
I suppose I have no other choice, he thought. He floated toward the ship, passing along its starboard side, keeping alert for an opening. There! An airlock on the starboard side of the rear section, in front of a cylindrical projection that stretched back beyond the rear of the ship. He floated closer to the ship’s hull, spreading himself out and preparing to grip the metallic surface.
He reached the hull, took hold, and pulled himself toward the circular airlock. He found a seam and worked his way into it, solidified himself, and poured every bit of his strength into pushing the doors apart. All he needed was a crack to slip in.
*
Ken blinked and shook his head. Suddenly, the urge to move the ship forward ceased. He looked up and scanned the bridge. Hamilton and Josef showed similar signs of disorientation—Josef shook his head and Hamilton rubbed his eyes.
“What? What the hell just happened?” Hamilton asked.
“Ion engines are at half burn,” Josef mumbled, as if confirming something. “Looks like we’ve come four AUs since coming through...whatever that was. A wormhole?”
“Confirmed,” de Seleaux said.
Ken searched his own memory following the passage through the tachyon anomaly. Weightless. Powerless. Power and gravity regained. Then, something called to him. He relayed his recollection to the others. “Yes, I recall that feeling, too—sort of,” Hamilton said.
“I have lost the cloud,” Stoner said.
An alarm screamed, drawing Ken’s attention to his security board. “Unauthorized access in the starboard airlock.” He switched to the airlock security camera. Something resembling dense fog seeped in through the outer hatch. Incredibly dense, given that it appeared to be holding the two leaves open while pushing in against the pressure of their atmosphere. “I think I found your cloud, Stoner.”
“It’s coming in through the airlock?”
“It seems to be pushing the hatch open.” Ken heard footfalls approach him from behind, but he held his attention on his console.
“What?! That’s impossible!”
“Obviously, this isn’t ordinary gas.”
“Security team to starboard airlock,” the captain spoke up right behind Ken. The ensign at communications acknowledged and relayed the order through the intercom.
*
Govkor was in. The airlock of the alien ship had remained pressurized the whole time. Lights in the ceiling and floor shone green; all was silent. He assumed, therefore, all was well—though he had not gone undetected, it seemed, noting the camera above the inner hatch.
Govkor turned his attention to the control panel beside the inner hatch. He extended a tendril toward the prominent, green-lit button and applied pressure. The hatch opened; he floated through and into a well-lit corridor. Now what? He had to get to the command deck, wherever it may be, and get the crew to take him to Epitara. And, noting another camera in the ceiling of the corridor, it seemed he was not going to get there unnoticed.
