by Dennis Young
“This thing is huge. General characteristics show it’s basically a big box, about two hundred fifty meters long, a hundred meters at the widest point, about the same depth, and has two very early style hyperlight engines tacked on. One is obviously dead, with a ten-meter hole through the phase coil units and a shattered hydrogen collector. Something obviously hit it hard a long time ago. The other one is simply nonfunctional, and one of the things we’ll try to learn is why. And if this thing really is over two hundred years old, how did it get all the way out here on the edge of neutral space?
With a boarding team of four, we’ll be short-handed on the ship, so everyone is at stations and running on caffeine and stims. Including me.”
* * *
EAS Pheidippides…
The skiff was both shuttle and lifeboat for Pheidippides. Technically, it could accommodate a maximum of eight crew members, ten if the environmental systems were extended and all other electronics on board were minimized. Apparently, Earthfleet’s thinking was, if the skiff was needed as a shuttle, no more than eight would be necessary during a mission, and if it was used as a lifeboat, no more than ten would have survived whatever calamity befell the ship.
Early in her command, Murphy had ordered modifications to the tiny craft, providing two temporary bunks for off-duty personnel and additional oxygen supplies and changes to the electrical feeds. Taylor Thomas and his E-techs had done a fine job of working up ways for the entire fourteen-person crew of Pheidippides to debark, if necessary. Regardless Murphy’s perceived personality defects, she would never allow herself to leave crew behind if there was any way to avoid it.
“Captain, may I speak with you?” Jia-Lan Wèi stood at the side of Murphy’s command seat.
Murphy gave her a look. “I know your question, and the answer is—”
“Captain, I’ve accepted the doctor’s advice regarding not leaving the ship after my first trimester, but this may be my only chance for a landing party of any kind. I know I’m only an ensign and graduated barely a year ago, but my marks on Tactical and Comm systems are good. I can identify unusual patterns in signals and have cracked every test on encryption I’ve ever been given. I deserve a seat on the boarding party excursion.” Wèi stood stiffly, waiting for Murphy’s response.
Murphy counted to ten before she spoke. “You should make a mental note, Ensign, to not interrupt your captain when she’s talking.”
Wèi’s face flushed. “Sorry, I was just…”
“My answer is, I approved your seat when talking with Lieutenant Ch’rehrin. He agreed, you would be an asset to the team.”
Wèi blinked twice, then relaxed. “Geez, I’m sorry, Murphy… I mean, Captain. I’ve never done anything like that.”
“See you don’t do it again. Your next commanding officer might not be so forgiving.” Murphy showed a slight grin. “Go knock ‘em dead, Girl.”
Wèi straightened, beamed a smile in return, and headed for the exit. Murphy only shook her head.
“Captain, I have additional information.” Ch’rehrin stepped from his station to Murphy’s side. “There is only a single hatchway on the object, very well hidden in the sublight drive section. There are no lifeboats behind the hatches, no auxiliary craft in the hangar, and no life readings we can determine. There appears to be no crew aboard, and the ship fully automated.”
Murphy breathed a sigh of relief. “Still doesn’t preclude finding bodies, and I hope that’s not the case. While this simplifies things, it raises a lot more questions.”
Ch’rehrin continued. “It also complicates our entry. There is only one docking port and it matches no current Earthfleet configuration, therefore crossing to the vessel must be done in EVA suits. As we have only four on board, I recommend we take two.”
Murphy shook her head. “That will take twice the time for you to do your investigation. Take all four. Let’s get this done quickly as possible. Besides, if you have only two suits, and transfer back and forth, in an emergency, you might have to leave someone behind. I don’t find that acceptable.”
Ch’rehrin considered, then nodded. “However, should we need to be rescued, it would likely prove impossible to do so.”
Now Murphy mused the point. “Take three suits. Leave one of your team on the skiff at all times. Compromise.”
“We will rotate the boarding party as needed. Very well, Captain.” He turned back to his board as Murphy looked around the Bridge.
All stations were manned, the screen showed the vessel in the distance, however difficult it was to see directly, but Tactical had put a target ring on the image, to follow the object’s orbit about the asteroid. Murphy watched absently for a few minutes. What is this thing? How did it get here? And what can we do with it… if anything?
* * *
The Boarding Party…
“Approaching at ten KPS relative,” reported Lieutenant Ball at the skiff controls. “All nonessential electronics are shut down.”
“Very good.” Ch’rehrin looked to Jia-Lan Wèi and Hatu Gil in the seats behind him, already in their EVA suits. His was fully ready, but he had not yet donned his helmet. “Mr. Ball, you will remain on board, and once we have accessed the hatch, please take the skiff to a parking orbit, ten kilometers distant. Keep the hatch in sight at all times and maintain constant communications with me and the Tactical station on Pheidippides.”
“Yes, sir. Just a reminder, your suits are good for four hours, with a thirty-minute reserve. And don’t forget to leave breadcrumbs.”
Ch’rehrin turned to Ball for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you for the reminder.”
“I’m in charge of the breadcrumbs,” said Wèi with a grin. “Today we have sourdough.”
A quiet laugh passed between the humans. Ch’rehrin showed a wan smile.
“Coming up on the hatch. Geez, look at the size of this thing.” Ball whistled.
“It’s basically a very large container,” said Gil, “but not as massive as I thought for something so big.” He peered out a port. “Whatever hit the starboard engine took out half the fuel feed lines and most of the coolant system, which probably shut down the reactors. That’s why it’s still in one piece. Relatively speaking.”
“Sir, I see markings,” said Wèi. She stood, looking out the port opposite Gil. “Only partial, as most of it is still covered by the reflective panels.” She sat and looked to Ch’rehrin. “One of the first things we should try to locate is how to turn those things off.”
“Not necessarily, Ensign,” replied the Arnec. “Should we do that, and other ships have followed, they would locate the vessel much more easily.”
“You have to admit,” said Ball, easing back on the thrusters, “it’s low-tech, but very effective. No power required, other than to uncover the panels, then everything switches off. Like opening or closing a window shade.” He pressed the thruster switches and sat back. “We’re here, sir. Five hundred meters of empty space between us and the hatch.”
Ch’rehrin looked to Gil and Wèi. “We will stay linked at all times during the transit. I have a safety line attached to the skiff anchor point with a magnetic release. Crossing will be done at ten second intervals.”
“Aye, sir,” chorused Gil and Wèi. They lowered their faceplates as Ch’rehrin donned his helmet.
“Green,” said Gil, checking his suit tell-tales.
“Green,” repeated Wèi. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Green also.” Ch’rehrin nodded to the small airlock at the rear of the skiff. “Ms. Wèi… after you.”
* * *
The hatch had no lock, other than a triple-redundant latching system. Ch’rehrin had anticipated it might be welded or bolted shut, but it turned out not to be the case. Entry was straight-forward and took only a few minutes to insure they would not be locked in, once they entered and the hatch closed again. They tried it three times before proceeding.
The airlock was large enough for all three of them, but not by much. “Anyt
hing larger than people must have gone through the docking port,” said Wèi. “This is probably the auxiliary or emergency exit.”
“Good guess,” said Ball from the skiff. “This thing looks like the biggest cargo container I’ve ever seen.”
“Dark, sir,” said Gil, taking point, as they went through the inner hatch.
The light from their helmet lamps revealed narrow passageways, only wide enough for a single person. Gil’s hand scanner cast colored lights about. “No air, no lights, no heat or environmental systems of any sort in this area.” He glanced at his chronometer tell-tale. “Three hours and a bit left before we hit our reserve.”
“Proceed quickly, as we need to find a control nexus, if one exists,” replied Ch’rehrin.
“There has to be a main control room,” said Wèi. “If this thing really was built for non-occupancy, even if there isn’t a Bridge, there’s got to be a main board.”
“Lieutenant Gil, go to infrared on your detectors. Look for heat sources or simple variations in temperature as we proceed.”
“Yes, sir.” Gil anchored his hand-held on his chest plate and reset his wrist controls.
“These walls are thin, no more than four inches or so,” said Wèi, probing with her scanner as they made their way slowly in the corridor.
“I track you as fifty meters beyond the hatch,” came Ball’s voice again. “No real interference at all. Whatever the walls are, they’re pretty inert.”
“Carbon fiber composites,” replied Ch’rehrin, scanning as well. “Excellent strength, yet low mass.” He aimed his scanner toward a wall, then paused. “Structural elements at ten-meter intervals, also carbon fiber construction.”
“They built to last,” said Wèi.
“Lieutenant Ch’rehrin, I’m detecting a widening of the passage ahead, and doors.” Gil paused, and the trio came to a stop. “We’re about a third of the way into the vessel.”
“Proceed slowly to the doors, do not open or activate them until we have a chance to examine,” said Ch’rehrin.
Twenty paces more brought them to a double set of entries, manually operated, with simple handles and double magnetic locks. Gil tried one, but it didn’t move. He put serious muscle into another attempt, but the lock held. He backed away and consulted his scanner. “Basic construction again, but these magnets are pretty powerful. There has to be a bit of power to keep them activated.”
Wèi knelt with her helmet light illuminating a panel on the door. “We’ll never move this without cutting the power. The room beyond appears to be shielded, and this door is durasteel.” She moved aside and aimed her scanner to the wall. “Here, too. Looks like the walls back at least ten meters are durasteel.”
Ch’rehrin considered for a moment. “I’ll contact the ship and ask the captain for instructions. Lieutenant Ball, patch me through to Pheidippides.”
Ball chuckled in the intercom. “You’re already on, sir. The whole ship is listening, I’ll bet.”
* * *
EAS Pheidippides…
Murphy sat in the command seat, watching the screen and listening to the running commentary between the boarding party, the skiff, and Tactical, where Lieutenant Demarcy and Martin Teng-Hey worked to keep the comm line and threat assessment issues clear. Between the concern about another EMP occurrence, interference of some sort within the vessel, and general nervousness throughout the mission, she found it a wonder the tension level on the Bridge wasn’t higher.
On the other hand, she thought wryly to herself, maybe I’m not such a bad captain after all. It’s obviously my calm and reserved demeanor.
For the better part of the A-shift she’d been considering what to do about the object, should they find its purpose. It was obviously of Earth origin, likely early Earthfleet, and therefore, government property. However, it had been missing, presumed destroyed or lost or maybe just forgotten about, for over two hundred years. Did that make it salvage? Did deep space prospector or treasure hunter laws apply?
If the thing was no longer in Earthfleet records, how did the OC orders lead us to it? Recent analysis? Old data resurfacing in computers? Wild-ass guess? Murphy didn’t know.
What ticked at the back of her mind was, with the proximity to Qoearc space, what would the High Command offer for such an item?
Being Qoearc, of course, they’d favor weapons, defenses, superior or unique propulsion systems, or similar technology having a wartime application. A two hundred-year-old derelict likely possessed none of these things. Other races? Unlikely. According to their star maps, the Qoearc had subjugated everything and everyone within ten light years, maybe more. Next question.
How had it gotten out here? The old-style engines would have taken years, decades, to make the journey. But it had been many decades. And the current path showed the object wouldn’t intersect the border at all, and was, in fact, on a somewhat lengthy voyage, as in centuries, toward neutral space. Which technically, they were in, but still…
What to do, what to do…
“Captain, Lieutenant Ch’rehrin is asking for you.” Teng-Hey’s voice broke Murphy’s ruminations.
“On my comm, Martin.”
The speaker crackled slightly. “Ch’rehrin here, Captain. We have reached an area that appears to be shielded and cannot be accessed.”
“A locked room, hey?” Murphy nodded. “Not entirely unexpected, was it? What’s on the other side?”
A pause. “We’re not sure, Captain,” came Wèi’s voice. “But Lieutenant Gil says it doesn’t appear to be a security issue, just structural. The area is roughly circular and three or four decks tall. The entire thing could be a module, dropped into the center of the ship.”
“If it’s just a module, why is the thing so big?” asked Murphy.
“Unknown, Captain,” replied Ch’rehrin. “We’ve been aboard less than two hours, and this is our first indication of anything other than corridors and passages of relatively light, non-load-bearing construction. We may find differences elsewhere.”
“Can you get through the passages? Make a shortcut around the module?”
“Gil here, Captain. Yes, our torches on low power can easily cut through the walls without residual harm. We can do it cleanly.”
“Is the skiff on the line?”
“Ball here, Captain.”
“What are your sensors telling you, Lieutenant?”
There was a pause as they waited for him to read the data. “Now that I know where to look, this area seems to be about a hundred meters in diameter and fifty or sixty thick. It’s all shielded, so this is likely the control center, or power grid, or both. It’s durasteel, and I doubt hand torches could get through it.”
“What about locks?” asked Murphy, thinking quickly.
“Electro-magnetic, and too strong to force, Captain,” replied Ch’rehrin.
“Cheater bar.”
Gil spoke off the comm, then back into the pickup. “If we had one, it might work, but these passages are clear, Captain.”
“What if we cut the latch itself?” asked Wèi. Again, there was a pause. “The latch and door plate are mild steel, Captain. I think we can get through.”
“I feel like a burglar,” mumbled Murphy.
“Captain?”
“Nothing, Mr. Ch’rehrin, just thinking out loud. Alright, since you’re two hours in, return to the skiff, take a rest, and let us think about this. Take whatever readings you can on the door, the latch, the plate, and let’s talk this over before we go breaking and entering. For all we know, there may be monsters on the other side.”
Gil chuckled, as did Wèi and Ball.
“That,” said Ch’rehrin, completely deadpan, “would be highly unlikely. For one thing, what would they have eaten for two hundred years?”
“Hell, I don’t know, maybe they rationed out the crew.” Murphy paused, waiting for an acerbic reply from the Arnec, but none came. “Return to the skiff and let’s review our options. We need to find out what’s on the other side o
f that door, but we’re going to do this like Earthfleet officers, not bandits.”
Three
Bounty
“Duty Log, Lieutenant Commander Jennifer Murphy, 121217.14. We held a comm debriefing with the boarding party, now I’ve ordered six hours rest, a sonic shower, and a meal for all of them. It’s tough enough off-ship, but even worse when you can’t keep yourself clean or you’re hungry and tired.
“In the meantime, the ship is running smoothly, but everyone is a bit stressed, standing nearly double watches and constantly on alert. Tactical keeps picking up flashes as though something is still out there, just at the edge of detection. Diagnostics show everything is working, so it’s not ghosts in the machine. We’ll keep our eyes sharp and prepare for whatever comes. This is beginning to feel like a lengthy mission, not to mention a critical one.”
* * *
Six hours on the Bridge, and after conferences with the landing party, Engineering, and the Tactical group, Murphy ordered seconds to critical posts. She visited Engineering briefly, confirmed with Thomas that ship’s functions were nominal, then walked slowly to the mess.
It came to her then… She pressed her wrist comm button with a shaking hand. “Comm, Murphy. Did we ever send an acknowledgement to Fleet after receiving our OC squirt?”
“Honley here, Captain. Let me take a quick look.”
Murphy laid her back against the wall and closed her eyes, waiting. She couldn’t understand the thoughts running through her mind.
“Captain, I show no messages from Fleet except the orders received when we were on the planet, followed days later by the OC squirt. Neither was acknowledged from our side. Shall I send a reply?”
Murphy took a deep breath. “No. Since this is an OC mission, we can’t compromise our location. Until we have something important to report, we’ll keep radio silence.”
“Aye, Captain. Anything else?”
