Communion of Dreams, page 26
Gish nodded. “The problem is that the interaction with the field is very complex, also very subtle. Any one piece of equipment can detect the artifact right now because we know where it is. But we will need to have several scanners working simultaneously to detect something that we don’t already know the position for.”
“So, use several scanners,” said Jon, unconvinced.
“The problem is that they all have to be tied together, with one operator. None of the thin-film computers can do it. Even Seth will have a hard time coordinating it all.”
Jon frowned. He looked to Seth. “You agree with this?”
“Of course. And the prospect of it . . . intrigues me.”
Jon looked back at Gish, then back to Seth. “Start the shut down sequence, and make the arrangements to be secured and transported. But don’t shut down completely until I’m back on the station. I want to be there.”
* * *
As the shuttle took them back to the station, Jon closed his eyes and found himself drifting. Drifting.
“Well?”
Jon looked deep into the face of the dreamtime Sidwell. “You tell me.”
The old/young man smiled. “You have a glimpse of it.”
“Of?”
“The truth. Or what your mind can grasp of it.” The figure was standing beside the glowing burl. He reached down and seemed to scoop up a handful of the gel, then lifting it, allowed it to flow from one hand to the other, a gloopy, glowing blue mass. “You have a glimpse of it. Now, what will you do?”
Instinctively, Jon reached out and put his hand under the flowing gel, felt its warmth pour into his palm, and settle there, waiting. “You said before that there wasn’t much time. What is going to happen?”
“I cannot see the future. But I can see more deeply into the present than others. Things are . . . changing.”
“Changing, how?”
“In many ways. Thresholds have been crossed.”
“Why is it important that I learn to understand, to ‘see’?”
There was a quiet look of sadness in the man’s eyes. “They will need you.”
“Where will you be? Are you leaving?”
“You know me to be aged. The old die.” He grinned. “We become . . . angels.”
As the figure said this, Jon saw him shift subtly, become slowly more and more like the real Darnell. Jon looked deep into the old man’s eyes. “Wait a second . . . ”
“The girl, as I said, can see.”
“. . . I thought you were just a manifestation of my subconscious or something. You’re really Darnell, aren’t you?”
“I told her I was no angel. And I’m not.” There was the same glint in his eye. “But perhaps I can become one, this time.”
“This time?”
“I’ve . . . missed other opportunities. Let’s just put it like that.”
* * *
The room where Seth and Salim were kept was deep in the heart of the station, so close to the gravity generator that the floor was noticeably arced.
“I’m not sure that I understand why you felt it necessary to come here,” said Seth, speaking through the portable holo projector.
“Because I didn’t on Earth, and because I think that this is even more risky.” Jon leaned on the large grey case that held the expert’s matrix. “Hell, Seth, things have gotten so weird that I’m not quite sure I know why I do anything. This just seemed right.”
“What is it that you fear, Jon?”
“I . . . I don’t know. Almost nothing on this mission has gone the way I thought it would.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I wanted to come up and visit. Since I lost my cyberware, I feel cut off.”
“That is certainly understandable. You were used to perceiving the world in a particular way. Now that way has changed.”
“More than you realize.” Jon drummed his fingers on the top of the case, making a decision. “Look, before they put you into stasis for the trip down, can you get a query off to Earth? I need you to find out, without giving anything away to the people down there, something else about Sidwell.”
“Well, depending on the information you’re seeking, that may or may not be possible.”
Jon nodded. “Yeah. Well, what I want you to look for is some evidence that he was involved with any of the miracle cults during the flu, or the backlash against them.”
There was silence for a moment. “I can see why you are concerned. Given the effect that the artifact had on you, Ms. Gates and Mr. Ng, such information could be very revealing.”
“Yeah, and the cults are something most people would rather forget. Guilt will do that to people.” Jon closed his eyes, grimaced. “But Darnell said something earlier today that leads me to think that maybe he was involved. It could be important.”
“I will see what I can find out for you. I’ll send a general request off for information, and do the analysis myself, since asking another expert would be too risky.”
“Thanks,” said Jon. Then it was his turn to be silent.
After a bit Seth asked, “Is there anything else that I can do for you, then?”
“No, that’s it. I’ll get out of here, let the techs come in and get you ready for transport.”
“It’ll be fine, Jon,” said Seth. “Gregor Soukup sends word that he’d like for you to join him in the ASA operations facility immediately. There’s been a new development with the Hawking.”
“OK. Tell him I’m on the way. See you on Titan.”
* * *
Jon entered the large bay which served as the ASA operations facility. Seated around a large conference table in the center of the two story room were Gregor Soukup, a number of technicians and assistants Jon didn’t recognize, and Robert Gish. They were all intently looking at nothing that Jon could see in the center of the table, discussing it animatedly. Gregor saw him, said, “Jon! Come, sit. Put holo projector on table, and we will send you feed of what we are getting from Hawking.”
The moment the projector was set down and turned on, Jon could see what had them all so excited. There were flashes of light coming from the image of the ship, clearly directed back at the ASA.
“It’s brilliant. They’re using the point-defense lasers designed for clearing away debris in their path as strobes, to communicate with us,” said Gish.
Gregor nodded. “Yes, yes. Simple digital message, as fast as lasers can be switched on and off. Not designed for communications, so cannot transmit as much data as normal. But pretty good.”
“What’s it say?” asked Jon.
With a touch to the back of his hand, Gregor gestured to the projector, and the voice of the ASA expert cut in. “. . . approaching apogee, will shut off main drive for transit to new heading in three minutes, mark. Am sending status reports on all systems through second PDL system. All systems confirmed in near-perfect working order. Mass overload of radio systems unexplainable. All links to bases in system lost. Crew status good, though there have been reports of headache and some minor hallucinations. Have set in new course to return directly to Titan Prime at best speed, once transit to new heading is complete. This message will repeat, with new time markers. This is the Hawking to Titan Prime or any bases which may intercept this message. We are approaching apogee, will shut off main drive for transit to new heading in two minutes, thirty seconds, mark . . . ”
With a touch, Gregor lowered the volume so that Jon could only just make out the voice. “Has been saying same thing for over ten minutes.”
“The data channel confirms what the message says: all the systems are in excellent shape as far as we can tell. From their point of view, it’s like they just all of a sudden lost our communications links in a massive blast of radio noise,” said one of Gregor’s engineers. “Didn’t seem to hurt the onboard systems, but it’s kind of like trying to stare straight at the sun. Too much data.”
“Can we communicate with them the same way?”
“Already on it,” said another of the engineers. “We’ll have the Titan Prime lasers operational for data in just a few minutes.”
“But of course, they are several hours away. The message we are receiving was sent this morning,” said Gish. He seemed preoccupied. He looked at Gregor. “I’d like to see the data from the Hawking’s radio systems, as soon as it is available.”
Gregor nodded, but said nothing. The volume of the projector increased. “. . . to Titan Prime or any bases which may intercept this message. We are approaching apogee, will shut off main drive for transit to new heading in thirty seconds, mark.”
They all watched and listened as the expert’s voice repeated the message one last time. There was a moment of silence, and a pause in the flickers of light, then the image of the ship started to slowly rotate against the field of stars. Then the lasers started flashing, and the voice started speaking. There was no emotion in how the words were spoken, at least not the sort of human emotion one would have expected given the content of what was said. “Main drive has been disengaged, transit rotation to new heading begun. All human crew members of the ship are now experiencing severe physiological stress. Attempting to identify source of this event . . . ”
“My god,” gasped someone.
“. . . expert Stepan has become unresponsive. Experts Rurik and Rika attempting to establish control of transit. Several human crew members have expired. Medical telemetry indicates cerebral hemorrhage in most cases. Other crew members experiencing symptoms of shock and heart attack. PC systems attempting to cope. All human crew members seem to be affected. None of the standard emergency protocols sufficient to counteract whatever is occurring. Transit has been stopped. Expert Stepan remains unresponsive. Source of event is indeterminate. There have been no detectable changes to any ship systems, nothing abnormal in environmental controls. Only eight human crew members remain alive, all are critical and unconscious. PC systems reporting imminent death of five of those crew members. Prognosis for remaining three is not good, death is expected within an hour. All medical telemetry will be compiled and transmitted on second channel. Established protocols direct environmental systems to be altered, and internal ship temperatures lowered as far as equipment will allow in order to preserve bodies of crew members for eventual retrieval and autopsy . . . ”
* * *
“Edenists?” asked one of the engineers.
It had been several minutes since the report of the ‘event’, whatever it was. They were still receiving the feed from the Hawking, which had now switched over entirely to status reports and data records from all the ship’s systems. In keeping with established guidelines, the two remaining active experts were attempting to document everything that had happened and assess the situation before attempting to return the ship to Titan Prime.
Gregor Soukup shook his head sadly. “Not Edenists. Hawking was good until transit started.”
“Something wrong with the expert Stepan?” asked someone.
“What could the expert do to cause such trauma to the crew?”
Gregor held up a hand. He closed his eyes a moment, set his jaw, and spoke. “Please. No speculations. We get all data, and go through it. Something happened, we will find.”
Everyone nodded, then slowly got up and went to their posts. Gregor looked around, eyes settled on Jon and Gish, now sitting side by side. “You will forgive. I have much to do.”
He got up and left without waiting for an answer.
“I’m not sure they will find it,” said Gish.
Jon looked at the small man, who was absently chewing his lip. “Why?”
“Just a hunch. I don’t think anything went wrong with the ship.”
“What, then?”
“Let me look over the radio logs when they come in, see if there’s anything there.” He looked up at Jon, started to say something else, when the holo projector suddenly came to life with the image of Dana Mallory.
“Mr. Thompson? Is it true what they say about the Hawking?” The young man looked upset.
“I’m afraid so, Dana. What can I help you with?”
“I, uh, was calling to let you know, um, I have most of the components for your comm rig ready. Should I meet you in your quarters in a few minutes, and we can get you set up?”
“That’ll be fine. See you there.”
The image evaporated. Jon looked to Gish. “See you at the shuttle?”
The scientist nodded, said nothing.
* * *
“The doc had everything else I needed,” said the youth, as he handed Jon a flat metal box the size of two decks of cards. “This is bigger than a standard pc, since it has to have more radio channels.”
“Since I can’t have the standard biowire hookups.”
“Right. So, uh, stay away from suppression fields if you can, since they might cause interference.”
Jon nodded, slipped the box inside his jacket. “OK, what’s next?”
“Um, here, put these in.” He held out a small case. “Standard contacts.”
Jon took the case, opened it. With a practiced hand he placed the oversize lenses in his eyes, blinked a few times and felt them form a bond.
“Now this.” Mallory had a little, flesh-colored wire in the shape of a large “G” in his hand. “Fits around the ear, with the end coming across to your ear canal like this . . . ”
“Yeah, I remember them.” Jon could barely feel the wire around his ear. “No problem.”
“It’ll sound different than your standard phone, but should work fine.”
“OK.”
“Now, um, here’s these.” He held up a pair of thin mesh gloves that looked like they had all the fingers cut off. “They’re liners from an old environment suit. There’s a proximity phone mike here on each one, so you’ll have to hold your hand up to your mouth to talk. Your thin-film controls are on the back, and there’s a palmkey wafer on the inside. You’ll need to get those coded, and be sure not to lose ‘em, or someone could pretend to be you.”
“Got it.” Jon took the gloves, pulled them on. He touched the thin-film control. The pc came to life, and before his eyes he once again had the standard control display. It was familiar, yet also somewhat disconcerting.
“Something wrong?” asked Mallory.
“Yeah, here, let me adjust the levels . . . ” Jon manipulated the controls, turning down the visual level to almost nothing. “That’s weird. I’ve got it set at just a couple percent of potential, and it’s still a little too much.”
“Try the phone.”
He tapped the back of his left hand, then held the mike up to his mouth. Instantly, Salim appeared before him, and Jon flinched at the volume, even though he had already turned that down considerably, too. With a few more taps of his finger, he got it set. “Hi Salim. Just testing this new comm rig. Everything going OK with Seth?”
“Everything is fine. He has already been transferred to the shuttle.”
“OK, thanks.” Jon disconnected the call. “Well, it looks like it works well enough. You sure you didn’t do anything to the pc?”
“Nothing. It should be working normally.”
“OK, well, thanks for all your help.”
* * *
“Damn,” said Jon. “Somebody remind me to give Seth a hard time about losing some weight.” He stood there in the large airlock, waiting for the wash to cycle.
One of the troopers who had helped to drag the sled across the tholin snow chuckled. Theo Crane, who was now leaning on the sled while the lock cycled, shook his head. There was a droplet of sweat hanging from the tip of his nose, and it caught the light as his head moved. “I still say it would be a hell of a lot easier if they just turned the gravity off.”
Jon nodded. “Well, we got him here. Maybe we can do that for getting him down into the pit.”
The inner door opened, and they popped their helms. Crane wiped off the droplet of sweat from his nose, then the sheen from his forehead. Others came into the airlock and helped get the sled inside the dome.
Jon sat on one of the changing benches and peeled off his suit. Theo Crane was next to him, doing the same thing. Dana Mallory came over, asked “That comm system working OK for you?”
“Yeah, it’s fine, thanks.”
“OK, just checking.”
Mallory turned and went to help get Seth’s container over to the small lift they used to get equipment in and out of the pit. Crane smiled at Jon, “See, told you he was a whiz. When I described what you needed, he got right on it.”
“Yeah, indeed.” Jon glanced at Mallory, then back to Theo. “Well, let’s go see if we can help Gish get Seth hooked up to the equipment and reactivated.”
“Gish can hook up what he wants, but he’d better stay the hell away from that gel matrix,” said Jackie Gates, who had come down to help reinitialize Seth. She had just walked over to them.
“How’re you doing?”
“OK. So, can I get a communications set-up like that?”
Jon smiled. “We’ll talk to Mallory. It shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Good. Now, let’s wake up that expert of yours. The sooner I’m out of here, the happier I’ll be.”
It took surprisingly little time to do just that. While one team, headed by Gish, saw to rigging the connections from the various sensing equipment, Jackie oversaw the wake-up procedure. With her experience, it went smoothly. When the last step was made, Jon saw Seth standing in front of him.
“Feel OK?” asked Jon.
The expert looked down at his apparent body, stretched a little. “Yes, thank you. But there’s something unusual . . . ”
“Oh?”
“Well, you’re there, and I can locate your transceiver, but it’s like you’re not really there.” Seth cocked his head for effect. “Hmm. I understand. You only have the communications system, not the full integration. I’m used to getting a lot more telemetry from your pc.”
“Now you know what it feels like to talk to you.”
