by Dennis Young
“Yes, sir. And I agree, but with the typical reservations. Chief Abol can probably spot anything she can.”
“She can keep them both calm in doing so. Plan on no more than ten hours per visit, and she can go on the first one to see there’s no imminent danger to Abol. I need her back on board to keep track of the Stiz and Qoearc, in case they’re still lurking about. Hopefully we can gather all the information we need in three or four days. In the meantime, Nav and Sciences will continue mapping the planet. They can try out that new cartography program they’ve been raving about.”
“Aye, sir. Anything else?”
“Be careful. Use that natural caution. It’s worked very well for us over the last couple of years and I don’t want you to misplace it.”
Hamilton grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment, sir.”
Westermann nodded. “As I intended. Let’s get to work.”
* * *
The station sensed the small craft approaching and watched as it carefully docked in an open port. The port had purposely been left available, to see if the crew had the curiosity to come aboard. The station also wondered still of the time-flow differences, and how these strange, slow creatures would deal with it. Or if they would risk existing in it, to see what might happen.
Their solution was simple and eloquent. The creatures carried stasis generators, which projected a deep-bluish glow around each one. Presumably this was only a visual que, to confirm to the creatures the field was working, for the effect itself had no color component to the frequency. This stasis field simply separated the creatures themselves from the station’s time-flow; no interference on either side, no harm done to the station or the creatures. The station made a note; these creatures were clever and intelligent, and might be more of a concern than originally thought.
In the meantime, as the small craft docked and the crew made their way slowly about the hangar and into the lock, the station turned much of its processing power to the large vessel itself, and the myriad of secrets slowly being uncovered. The station was therefore busy, busier than it had been since the creators left. This gave a sense of purpose and of accomplishment to the station, knowing it was fulfilling its orders and directives.
Circuits hummed with power, processing units recorded, analyzed, sorted, and picked apart each datum as it was gathered. Heat sinks glowed and logic pathways glistened with energy, sensors sensed, and monitors monitored. In all, it was a time of extreme input and productivity.
A human might have referred to this feeling as happiness.
Three
Hostage Situation
“Duty Log, Captain Noah Westermann, 030417.02. The landing party has spent the better part of two days aboard the alien station with no major issues. In the meantime, we continue to map the planet and I’m considering a landing party there as well, but at the moment, it’s not a priority. Besides, if the Stiz or Qoearc show up, I don’t want to have to retrieve crew from two sites. Therefore, Agincourt is maintaining a high polar orbit, to expedite the survey process. Commander Hamilton’s team will return to the ship in the next couple of hours for rest and debriefing.”
* * *
The Station…
It had taken the landing party a full shift to get their investigations headed in the right direction. Hamilton insisted on a refuge bubble being set up first thing in the docking port, with a stasis generator enclosing it. In an emergency, they could all retreat to the bubble and be assured the time-flow issues, which were still not fully understood, would not affect them. How they might then get to the shuttle hadn’t been determined, but at least they would be temporarily safe. Later shifts were confined to investigations of the lock and nearby corridors.
They found the station cramped as had been thought. The observation deck, at the top of the station, had a two-meter ceiling height. With insulated boots and full environmental helmets, nearly all the party had to crouch most of the time. Only the center area of the observation platform, with its peaked ceiling, allowed them to stand fully upright. Needless to say, backaches were common, and the middle of the deck was where they congregated often for discussions. Lighter than Earth-normal gravity also helped.
The station itself was a marvel of simplicity. Instruments were mostly touch panels, obviously made for hands smaller than human-standard. Abol and his E-Tech traced the systems to the main power source which, itself, was as compact as any he had ever seen. The station seemed to run on a tapping of the universal vacuum, something only the best of Earth Alliance scientists understood to any degree. The team spent as much time as possible working to carefully uncover its mysteries. Very carefully. The energy potential was nearly incalculable, the Chief Engineer had told Hamilton during a private consultation.
“I cannot disassemble anything, Commander, and for various reasons. Firstly, the panel enclosing the power source is one piece of material, a seamless ceramic that will not pass a current. Therefore, our scans cannot penetrate it and we cannot know its operating methods. The whole of the assembly weighs only some three hundred kilos, as far as we can estimate. I am most impressed by this species’ engineering acumen.”
“Leave it alone, Abol, it doesn’t belong to us anyway. Do what you can; vids, notes, anything. Include whatever you can learn indirectly by how much current is drawn by the systems it’s powering. We’re not taking it home with us.” Hamilton grinned, then motioned to Sh'zaoqoq, PADD in hand, examining a vertical instrument panel of blank displays. “Is your bondmate well? She seems to be intrigued as the rest of us.”
“She is an intellect as few others. I have said many times she has the mind of a scientist, not a weapons-wielder. Our thanks for allowing us to examine this wonder of engineering together.”
“We need to wrap up this session and head back to Agincourt. See to it, please, Chief, and I’ll get the shuttle warmed up.”
Hamilton headed for the hatchway to the docking port as Abol set about completing his assignment and preparing the landing party to leave. As the First Officer approached the hatch, an audible click came from the mechanism within, and the X-shaped hand lever rotated half a turn. Hamilton stopped, watching carefully. She looked about; no one else had noticed the peculiarity as it occurred. She waited a moment, then took the lever in hand and tried to turn it. It wouldn’t move. She put more effort into it, but again, the lever stayed in place.
“Chief… Ensign Monroe.” She motioned to Abol and the security guard he was speaking to. “Try the lever, please. It appears to be stuck.”
“Allow me, sir.” Monroe, a lanky young human male, tried the lever once, then twice. The third time, he put serious muscle to it with no success.
Abol ran his scanner over the lever, then the hatch itself. “Locked, Commander. This was not so only a few minutes ago when we moved a new audio analyzer into the observation deck.”
“Check the mechanism on the left,” said Hamilton. “That’s where I heard the sound from.”
Abol again scanned the area. By now, the entire party had assembled around them, except for the Science Techs in the crew quarters and the security guard with them. “Confirmed. The energy output has changed and is now polarized in the opposite direction. We are locked in.”
Hamilton passed her gaze about the assembled crew. “Did anyone touch any controls? Maybe brushed against something unbeknownst? Change any settings on any of the instruments or panels?”
The crew looked to each other, all shaking their heads. Sh'zaoqoq spoke. “Commander, I recorded a minor change in energy output a moment before you tried the lever. In this panel.” She pointed to a set of screens to one side. Where they had been blank, now all were showing wave patterns of unknown meaning.
“Alright.” Hamilton motioned for the crew to back away from the hatch. “Mister Butler, contact the S-Techs and let me know their status. Chief Abol, get me as much information on this latching mechanism as you can, quickly. Xiaoli, assist Commander Sh'zaoqoq with an assessment of our equipment and sup
plies, as well as a rundown on everyone’s suit status and battery reserve.” She moved aside and pressed her communicator button. “Agincourt, this is Commander Hamilton. Indigo Status.”
“Receiving, Commander, patching you through to the Captain. Stand by.”
Hamilton looked at her chronometer. The captain was likely in quarters or in the mess. She waited, calming herself as she could. They were in serious trouble, and she knew it, but had to keep the crew busy.
“Westermann.” The captain’s voice was slow, and she knew he had been sleeping.
“Sir, we have a problem.”
“A moment, Commander.”
Again, Hamilton waited, knowing Westermann was likely washing the sleep from his eyes. Sleep that might be the last he would have for a while, should things become serious.
“Alright, go ahead.”
“Sir, the station has locked us in the observation deck. I can’t say this is purposeful, as nothing else has changed. We may be seeing only a safety protocol we’re not aware of.” She glanced to Butler, now standing at her side. He shook his head. “The S-Techs are also locked in the station crew quarters, so there’s a pattern. Again, no hostile moves, and it may be a simple lock-down procedure.”
“And it may not, Commander. Very well. Party status?”
“All accounted for, suits are all at maximum integrity, stasis fields operating normally. But our refuge is in the hangar, so I’m going to order minimum power on the suits and sleep for everyone, if things don’t change quickly.”
“Agreed. Are the observation ports still clear? You can see out, we could see in, correct?”
Hamilton understood the question. If Agincourt had to break in, the ports would be the weakest areas.
“Yes, sir, we can see the planet below clearly. Also, no movement outside the station at this time.” No big mechanical claws coming to grab us, she though, a sardonic smile in her mind.
“Other exits?”
Hamilton considered. Surely there was an emergency hatch somewhere in the main deck. The floor, perhaps. “We’ll check immediately, sir, and advise. In the meantime, my thought is, comm would be the next thing to go. So we’ll prepare something else in case that’s the station’s plan.”
“The station? Is this a possibility, Lori?”
She shrugged. “Who else? The station is empty of life except for us. Surely it knows we’re here and is observing. Maybe it decided to collect specimens.”
The line was quiet for a time. “Sir?”
“Still here, just thinking. Alright, report back in thirty minutes if things haven’t changed. I’ll order a course change to bring us to the station’s vicinity.”
“Aye, sir. We’ll contact Agincourt again in thirty minutes. Hamilton out.” She pressed the button again, turned and faced the crew, now gathered and listening. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, let’s find out what’s going on here. Everything you can tell me in the next twenty-five minutes. Commander Sh'zaoqoq, you and Mister Butler will please find us a way out of here. Through the decking if necessary, but find a way.”
* * *
EAS Agincourt…
Westermann alerted the Bridge and gave orders from the sonic shower. Agincourt broke polar orbit and quickly coasted into position ten kilometers from the alien station as he dressed and headed for the Bridge.
He entered and took the command seat, looking to unfamiliar faces at Tactical and Sciences. “Status!”
“Standby Alert as ordered, Captain. All weapons and shields are charged. Awaiting your further commands.”
“Lieutenant Phillips, isn’t it? Very well, maintain Alert, keep your eye out for any other ships entering the system. We don’t want to be surprised by something else while this matter is ongoing. Sciences?”
“No change, sir, only minor fluctuations in the station’s energy output, the time-flow effect is still in and around the station itself. The field encompasses an area about one hundred meters beyond the station proper.”
“Monitor and set an alarm for any changes. Comm, do we have a secure channel to the station?”
“Yes sir, no interruption at this time.”
“Engineering?”
“Board is green, sir, full power available, accumulators at maximum.”
“Helm, Nav?”
“Helm is answering, sir, Nav screens are clear.”
Westermann glanced at the chronometer in his chair arm. Ten minutes before the next contact. He punched the intercom button. “Sickbay, Bridge. Doctor Kamisori, please come up here for a bit, I need your expertise.” He closed the circuit. “Tactical, give me an analysis of the clear material in the observation ports of the station. How much energy would be required to cut through it, if necessary.”
Phillips scanned his instruments and watched the display. “It’s similar to our standard transparent ballistic armor, sir, but a bit denser. Hand torches wouldn’t touch it, assault weapons would probably do the job, but take minutes for full penetration. I don’t recommend using PAKS.”
“What if we cut to one one-hundredth power?”
Phillips quickly ran through his calculations. “That would pretty much vaporize the material in two or three seconds, sir. Debris outgassing would likely be a problem.”
“That’s what I want.” Westermann pressed the intercom button again. “Security, Bridge.”
“Mayfield here, sir.”
“Lieutenant, get two squads to assault shuttles on the double. Launch when ready and take up positions around the station where you have a clear shot at the observation ports. Confirm when you’re on station. Do not fire without my direct order.” He clicked off and looked at the chronometer again. Five minutes.
* * *
The station observed and recorded the events with growing interest. With no malice, it was intent on testing these creatures, to determine if they might be dangerous to the station, and therefore, those who created it. With the simple solution to the time-flow issue solved, it reasoned other problems might be overcome just as quickly. Therefore, it put a simple test before them, one not only to place the creatures in a physically isolated state from part of their number, but to see how quickly they might resolve it.
The station was not surprised that in a short time, they had discovered the secondary hatchway behind a panel, and the access there to rooms below. However, it also came to notice the creature leading others down the stairwell carried an object in its forehand; not a scanning device or sensor, but a weapon. Certainly, one of limited power and ability, but a weapon, nonetheless. This called up additional alarms, subroutines, and protocols. The station’s programming included such redundancies, in case, by some unusual circumstance, it might be boarded by hostiles. While at the time the creatures showed no intent of the sort, the possibility now was there, and the station would react accordingly. If the weapon could be neutralized, that was acceptable. If not, then the wielder would be neutralized, by whatever means necessary.
Again, no malice was intended, yet the station had its orders. Orders that overrode even its own curiosity to “investigate new life”. Here, the life had come to it, but now the rules had changed. The station prepared as programming required, and would take whatever actions it might, at the appropriate time. Time that was approaching quickly.
* * *
The Station…
Security Ensign Monroe led the way down. The steps were narrow, short, and clumsy to take too fast. His boot heels caught on the step above, and he had to steady himself against the wall. The passage was hardly wide enough for him to make his way through without turning sideways. In all, it made keeping his hand weapon aimed ahead while descending difficult.
“Hold your position, Ensign.” Hamilton called from behind as she trailed Monroe, the E-Tech Hardy, and Chief Abol. The hatchway to the next level lay before them, and she wanted a moment to think things through before they opened it. Or tried.
“Chief, run your scanner over the hatch and mechanism. I don’t want to touch so
mething running an active current.”
Abol held his scanner over Monroe’s head, watching the flickering display. “No current, and the polarity is as the upper hatch before it locked, Commander.”
Hamilton nodded. “Keep your scanner running. Ensign, proceed.”
Monroe took the cross-shaped lever in one hand, his weapon still in the other. The moment he began to turn the lever, he yelped and fell back, nearly knocking the E-Tech over. Monroe held his left hand, grimacing. His side arm smoldered on the flooring.
“Back off, now!” Hamilton retreated, fast as she could go without falling on everyone below her. They reached the observation deck and closed the hatch. Sh'zaoqoq came forward quickly, spraying the ensign’s hand and wrist with numbing salve, and wrapped it quickly with a bandage. She looked to Abol, who only shook his head, then turned to Hamilton. “The current flow began only as the ensign touched the lever. It was not present before.”
Hamilton nodded. “Therefore, he was attacked. Might it be because he held a weapon? Is this AI perceptive enough it can recognize such?”
Sh'zaoqoq spoke when the others remained silent. “Unknown. Regardless, we must assume intent was to disarm, but not kill. There is only one sure way to test the theory, and that is to try again.”
“I will go,” said Abol.
“Denied,” replied Hamilton. “Let’s think this through a bit more. Mister Butler, contact the S-Techs below and confirm they’re still alright. I need to call the ship.” She moved away as the others congregated once again in the center of the chamber, talking quietly among themselves. “Agincourt, Hamilton, checking in per previous communique. Please put Captain Westermann on the line.”
“Agincourt, Commander, please stand by.”
Hamilton watched the crew quietly. Butler signaled a thumbs-up and she nodded.
“Westermann. Report, Commander.”
“More issues, sir. The station made an open attack on Security Ensign Monroe as we descended the stair below. Nothing serious, but it purposely disabled the weapon in his hand. We’re considering trying it again without showing weapons.”
