Prelude to Extinction

by Andreas Karpf

  “Don,” Jack said calmly, “we’ve wasted nine days here. That’s about half of our food. Once it’s gone, that’s it – we’re done. There will be no survival or other chances, we’ll just sit there and starve to death. I won’t take that risk unless you can give me another option.”

  Don paused barely long enough to take a breath before challenging him again, “You don’t even know which AGC is the right one to take.”

  “If I remember right, you were the one who said that there’s no way to tell. As far as I see it, the issue’s irrelevant. A fifty-fifty chance of getting back is better than no chance here.”

  Don just glared at Jack.

  It took a moment for Kurt to realize that Jack was now staring right at him. “Are we ready?” Jack barked.

  He tried to answer but instead was aware only of his hands trembling. It wasn’t from the argument. Rather it was the rush of adrenaline that accompanied the fear that he might have to step in between the two of them. Jack’s continued stare forced him to answer, “Yes, everything’s in place.”

  “Good.” Then looking back at his still fuming science officer, “Don, I’ll need you at your station on the bridge.”

  Don didn’t answer, but just stood in place with his arms folded.

  Jack turned and entered the bridge. Kurt and Claire obediently followed.

  As he made his way to his station, Kurt noted that the two AGC’s were displayed prominently on the main screen. Their perfect silver surfaces glimmered in the sunlight.

  “Kurt, I want you and Don to keep a close eye on all status indicators. Let me know the second anything looks wrong.”

  Kurt answered with a simple, “Yes,” and made his way to the science station.

  “Devon,” Jack called, “display the course we plotted.”

  The main screen switched to a graphical representation of the space around them. Kurt focused on the gently arcing red line that led into the AGC on the left. He then glanced at Don who was now standing next to him and said, “I think it makes sense to shut all systems, including the engines, down when we’re still about five-hundred kilometers out. Our momentum will simply carry us through.”

  “That sounds right,” Don added grudgingly.

  Devon called out, “I’ll need power at least through the last course correction. It’s about four-hundred kilometers out. From there we’ll just coast into position.”

  “That’ll work,” Kurt answered.

  “OK, proceed with that,” Jack said. “I just don’t like flying in completely blind.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve wired a single external camera to a separate circuit. That way, we’ll be able to see what’s going on. And, if it burns out, that’s all we’ll lose – just one camera.”

  “That’s a bit better.” Jack hit the comm. button on his console and said, “Nadya, are the engines ready?”

  “Everything’s primed.”

  Kurt watched Jack take a deep breath and activate the ship-wide intercom. “This is the captain. All preparations have been completed for our transit through the AGC. In about thirty seconds we’ll commence our run. At this point, I want everyone strapped into their flight seats with full crash restraint harnesses. Department heads, check in with the bridge once you’re secure.

  Nadya’s voice was first, saying, “Propulsion is ready.” The others followed quickly enough that Kurt lost track. After a brief moment of silence Palmer leaned over and whispered something to Jack. An expression of annoyance flashed across his face as he slapped the intercom button and said, “Computer engineering, respond.” No more than five seconds passed before he hit the button again, “Maurice Traynor, respond.”

  The few seconds of silence that followed felt like half an hour. Jack called out, “Computer, locate...”

  “Computer engineering here.”

  Without trying to hide his frustration, Jack answered, “Are you ready and is your equipment secured?”

  “Yes, everything’s ready.” Kurt was sure Maurice’s voice had an edge of annoyance to it. His thought was cut off though as Jack said in a measured tone, “Devon, take us in.”

  The hum of the engines passed through his seat as they began accelerating. They were approaching the closer of the two AGC’s from the side. In a few moments, though, they would swing around and come in at a forty-five-degree angle towards the device. The thought was that if they had a forward component to their velocity, it might get them through any hazardous region more quickly. That thought, however, was not much more than a guess.

  Devon called out, “T-minus five minutes. Velocity twenty-thousand k-p-h, parallel to the ring-plane.”

  The engines were at full power – their whine filling the ship. All eyes were fixated on the main screen as the silver device grew. “Adjusting course now,” Devon said loudly over the din. The object appeared to pivot toward them in response.

  Kurt kept an eye on his own computer display: a single line read, ‘Shut-down trigger’ and was followed by a chronometer indicating they only had thirty seconds left. A wave of tension swept across him. He dug his fingers into the armrest and looked around, but everyone was completely absorbed by the view in front of them.

  “Shut down in ten seconds,” Devon called out. “five…four…three…two…one...”

  Instantly everything went black. The ship was silent. A moment later, the battery-powered emergency lighting bathed them in an eerie red glow. The main display, however, stayed blank.

  “Kurt, I thought you said we’d be able to see?” Jack said impatiently.

  “Give it a second,” he answered. “The relays need to switch it over to the isolated circuit.” He hoped Jack couldn’t tell that he wasn’t one hundred percent confident it would work. There was enough time for his doubts to take an even greater hold before he heard the click of a jury rigged switch, and the screen came back to life.

  “Distance three-hundred kilometers. Contact in two minutes,” Devon said almost mechanically.

  They were close enough now that the nearest ring completely filled their field of view. Kurt’s attention, however was drawn to the massive middle ring with its unnatural black center. None of their analyses were able to determine what it was. They had toyed with thoughts that it was the actual event horizon of a wormhole, or that it was some other exotic alien material. No one really had any idea. He just continued staring at it, pondering the possibilities.

  “Distance two-hundred kilometers,” Devon announced. “thirty seconds until contact.”

  They sat in dead silence as the image grew in front of them. Time passed agonizingly slowly. Kurt checked his watch to gauge how much longer they had, but was frustrated to find that only a few seconds had passed.

  Devon’s calm voice broke the silence, “Twenty seconds.”

  They were close enough now that that he could no longer see the outer ring itself. It felt as if they were already inside it. The pitch black center of the thick, middle ring continued to grow until it dominated their field of view. Kurt focused on its center to see if they were rushing towards some solid wall. The blackness though was perfect and unchanging. It gave no hint as to what it really was.

  “Ten seconds until contact.”

  Kurt reflexively grabbed his armrests with all his strength Every muscle in his body tensed as if he was about to be punched. “Something’s wrong,” he whispered aloud. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of the blue-green light. It was all around him, not just on the view screen. Dizziness swept across him as the room seemed to bend. There was a flash of agonizingly bright, white light.

  Part 4: Contact

  Chapter 23 – July 26, 2124; 15:25:00

  Jack opened his eyes and was forced to squint in the brightly lit bridge. A field of stars slowly panned across the main view screen, followed by the near blinding disk of a sun. After a moment it was joined by a thin crescent bordering a large, pitch black disk. Frustration grew with the realization that he’d been unconscious again and that the
IPV was spinning out of control. It was expected – but that didn’t matter. He just wanted some hint of normalcy and hope.

  His thoughts were interrupted by Devon’s voice calling his name. He noted his pilot’s disoriented look and asked, “Are you OK?”

  “I think so. I just feel ... hungover.”

  Jack shook off the effects of the transit and glanced around the bridge: Kurt and Don were still slumped over in their chairs. Claire, however, looked like she might be stirring. “Has anyone checked in over the comm.?” he asked.

  “Helena did a moment ago,” Devon replied. “Before that, I don’t know. I only came to when she called.”

  “What’s her status?”

  “She said she’s OK, and was going to work her way through the ship to check on the others.”

  “Good. Any idea how long were we out?”

  “If the chronometer can be trusted, only an hour this time.”

  Jack didn’t say anything: even an hour was too long. Devon must have sensed his aggravation, and said, “It’s not as bad as last time.”

  “True,” Jack answered without sincerity. He just stared at the screen and said, “Is this the main system, or Kurt’s separate camera?”

  “The main one. It looks like all systems are up and running. His circuits and reboot routine worked.”

  “Good. Get us stabilized first, then see if you can determine if this is the E-Eri system.”

  “I’m already working on that.”

  Jack looked more carefully around the bridge as he unlatched his harness. A few items drifted weightlessly, and he pushed himself toward a loose flashlight that was just out of reach. Seeing Palmer stir, he said, “George, can you hear me?”

  His first officer opened his eyes and stared straight at him, but appeared not to see him.

  “Palmer, I need you to wake up. Do you understand me?”

  “Yeah, yes what ...,” he cut himself off as he recognized what had happened. “Damn…how long was I out?”

  “About an hour. I only came to a minute ago.”

  “Where are we? Did we make it back?”

  “I don’t know yet. Devon’s just started working on it. I need you to get things stabilized here on the bridge while I check on the rest of the crew. Work on getting our navigational references first.”

  Palmer looked around and said, “It’d make more sense if I went. It’s an emergency situation; you should be up here.”

  Palmer was right of course, but Jack couldn’t stomach the idea of sitting still when there was work to be done. His vain attempt at formulating a response made him realize that running around the ship wasn’t going to accomplish anything either. True, checking on things in-person might feel better, but that was irrelevant. He took a deep breath and finally relented. “Go, but let me know immediately if there are any problems.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Palmer exited the bridge, Jack saw the main screen start flashing through different views of stars, and asked, “Are all of the external cameras back on line?”

  “Yes, I just did a full system test on them,” Devon replied.

  Before he could continue, Kurt spoke up from behind him, “What about E Eri-D? Did we make it back?”

  Without looking up from the control panel Devin said, “It’s too soon to tell.”

  The display changed again to show the black disk with its thin, white crescent edge. This time, though, the planet and its surrounding stars were still; at least the ship was stable. Anticipating the questions, Devon said, “There’s not enough to go on yet. Once we come around to dayside we’ll know more.”

  “Have you located the AGCs?” Jack asked.

  “Almost there,” Devon said softly. Barely a second later his pilot whispered, “Damn it,” but didn’t say anything further.

  A part of him didn’t want to ask, but Jack asked anyway, “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve located three gravitational anomalies…give me a minute…”

  It took a deliberate effort to sit silently as Devon typed furiously at his workstation. The few seconds that passed felt unbearably long. Even the image of the planet on the main screen seemed frozen in time.

  “They’re close to the planet. Just another second.”

  The main screen’s image disappeared and was replaced by a schematic showing a plain blue disk he assumed represented the planet, surrounded by three smaller green circles. “I don’t have enough data yet to display their orbits, but this is the current layout of the system.” Devon explained. “The blue disk in the center is the planet. The other objects are the right mass to be AGCs. Once the telescopes are back online, I’ll be able to confirm all of this.”

  “So we’re not back at E-Eri?” Don practically shouted from behind him.

  There was no need to answer the man. Jack knew the Don’s outburst was more of an accusation than a question.

  “Goddammit,” Don continued, “I told you we shouldn’t have gone through!”

  Ignoring him, Jack just stared at the diagram and said, “They look like they’re symmetrically spaced around the planet.”

  “Yes,” Devon answered. “And, that could be a problem for us. Since the systems were down for an hour, and since the AGC’s seem identical in all other aspects, it may be difficult to determine which one we came though.”

  “What do you mean?” Jack asked impatiently. “Just look at our current velocity and trace a path back.”

  “The problem is that we’re equidistant from the two nearest AGCs and we’re not moving with respect to either one,” Devon answered. “It’s really strange…”

  Before Devon’s voice finished trailing off, Don cut in, “What in the world are you talking about?”

  “Like I said, we’re not moving with respect to the AGCs – it’s like we’re exactly at the cusp of some sort of unstable equilibrium position. We’re safe for the moment, but it is precarious. All we’d need is a small push from our thrusters and we’d literally be pulled straight into an AGC or the planet. The problem is, since we’re stable and didn’t use our engines to get here, I can’t determine our point of origin.”

  “But how?” Kurt asked.

  “I don’t know. It’s like we were spat of the AGC with just the right amount of energy and in the right direction to stop us here. My only guess is that this is like some sort of landing pad.”

  “Are you saying they designed entire planetary system like this?” Kurt asked with obvious awe.

  Again, there was no need to answer. The magnitude of their engineering was unimaginable.

  “Look for a faint ion trail.” Don said impatiently.

  “Don, the engines were off,” Devon answered.

  “Think about it,” Don shot back with an edge. “Even though we shut the engines down, there would still have been some residual Xenon in the feed tubes, as well as a small but significant charge on the discharge grates. That’d give us enough of a trail to follow.”

  “OK, give me a minute and I should have an answer.”

  “Jack,” Kurt called from behind him.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m going to get down to engineering. I want to get a good look at the circuit breakers to be sure eveything’s…”

  “No need to explain,” Jack answered. “Let me know what you find.”

  Kurt headed off the bridge as Devon announced, “I’ve found the trail. It leads back to the AGC on the left. We’ll call it AGC alpha. What do you want to do?”

  “You’re not taking us back through that damn thing,” Don sneered.

  The answer was of course, no; but Jack felt the urge not to completely agree with his science officer and said, “We’re not making any decisions right now. Devon, can you plot a course that’ll take us into an orbit clear of the AGCs?”

  Devon stared at the screen for a moment before answering, “Not an orbit – the system’s too complex. The best I can do is just keep transferring us between different trajectories. The problem is, I’m going to have
to fire the engines every few hours and that’ll use up propellant.”

  Jack stared at the schematic – the last thing they needed to do was unnecessarily waste their Xenon.

  “Keep in mind sir, we are stable here right now,” Devon quickly added.

  Jack nodded and said, “Fine keep us here for the moment, but plot a course out to a more distant stable position. We may move out there later.”

  “Yes sir,” Devon replied.

  “Don,” Jack said. “We’ll need to get a good look at where we really are…”

  “I’m already on that,” Don answered brusquely. “I just pulled up a spectrum of the central star and it’s a K-0 – definitely different from Epsilon Eri.” The edge left Don’s voice as he continued, “If you give me a minute, I’ll even be able to tell you where we are. The pulsar program I wrote is completely automated. I should have those results in a moment.”

  Jack stared back at the main screen as his science officer worked at the terminal. It seemed that they, along with the AGCs, were locked in a synchronized orbit over the planet. What was once a thin, white crescent bordering a jet-black disk had broadened and now showed hints of blue – possibly an ocean. Their continued slow progression toward day-side would soon give them a better view of the planet’s surface. The prospect of finding a habitable world, though, quickly consumed him. They would need to move quickly to set up landing missions and hopefully resupply.

  “I’ve got it,” Don announced.

  “That fast?” Devon blurted out reflexively.

  “Yes, that fast,” Don answered flatly. “All we needed to do was identify the positions of the thirty pulsars we’ve been using as our reference. It was easy work for the computer. This star is two-hundred-twenty-five light-years from Earth. But what’s more interesting is that the we’ve also shifted again in time: we’re two-hundred-twenty-five years into our past based on the earth date – not our ship’s calendar. That means it’s the year 1904. The time shift and distance match again, like with G3-alpha…” Don’s voice drifted off for a second before he continued, “This one’s plus or minus five years; we got better measurements this time.”