by S. H. Jucha
In the pilot’s cabin, Esteban checked the emergency beacon and discovered the energy surge had compromised it.
Esteban replied.
* * * * *
Olawale ordered the fleet to reverse course to retrieve the ships. Then he queried,
Lucia used her ship’s controller to establish a fleetwide announcement.
Olawale sat in one of the Rêveur’s command chairs. He was tempted to bury his face in his hands. Of all the individuals who might be lost, it might be two SADEs. He wondered if Alex and Julien would ever forgive him. Little did he know of the number of SADEs who had been lost in federacy space.
Lucia’s traveler landed her aboard the Judgment. Then that shuttle delivered the Norsitchia troopers to the Rêveur.
The Judgment now held three craft in its twin bays. The acting captain had expected to recover traveler four when the assault was finished.
By the time Lucia made the warship’s bridge, Orbit informed her that the travelers had landed aboard the Rêveur, and the fleet was underway.
“Give me details,” Lucia ordered.
The holo-vid lit, and a wireframe model of the Norsitchia system appeared. A nearly transparent yellow cone originated from the moon and projected into space. It rose at an angle above the ecliptic.
“This is the space within which I calculate the traveler should be found,” Orbit said. “The distance traveled by the traveler, as determined by the final velocity imparted by the energy wave, is problematic.”
Lucia examined the cone. The fact that it was fairly narrow reassured her. “What area of the cone do you expect to search?” she asked.
A section of the cone turned blue.
“I estimate that this area contains the highest probability of success for locating them,” Orbit said. “Unfortunately, as we race to catch them, their ship continues to speed into the dark.”
“That’s a huge amount of space,” Lucia noted. Her momentary relief at the narrow cone was dampened by the amount of area to search. “Tell me we have a beacon signal,” she said, eyeing the SADE.
“Negative, Commodore. I presume the pulse damaged the instrument. We’ve been unable to contact the controller, and I presume that most of the ship’s systems are inoperable.”
Lucia tempered her rising frustration. None of it was meant to be directed at Orbit. The SADE had been apologetic, when delivering his bad news. Uncharacteristically, Lucia laid a hand on Orbit’s shoulder, and said, “I know you’re doing your best, as you always do.”
When Lucia turned to face the warship’s bridge crew, she found them regarding her with guilty glances.
“Focus, Sers,” Lucia ordered. “We’ve lost individuals. This is a search-and-rescue mission. All ideas are welcome.”
Immediately, Orbit’s comm was inundated by suggestions. One of them appealed to him. He thanked the pilot and augmented his plan.
Orbit programmed the fleet’s controllers to filter their telemetry scans to identify any object moving near the traveler’s estimated velocity. According to Orbit’s calculations, the traveler would be exceeding the velocity of any celestial body.
* * * * *
Aboard the damaged traveler, Jess slowly woke. His head and neck ached, and his left arm was heavy. He glanced toward his arm, but it was too dark to make out any details. Alarm crept into his thrumming brain.
“Any one there?” Jess called out.
“Here, Jess,” Juliette replied.
“So, it takes a catastrophe for you to call me Jess.” He chuckled, but it caused him to cough. Trying to sit up, he realized he was strapped to a makeshift bed. The effort made him dizzy, and he paused to let it pass.
“Easy,” Juliette said, gently pressing Jess down. “You’ve suffered a concussion. We don’t want you moving around.”
“Is that why I’m strapped down?” Jess asked.
“We’re without gravity,” Juliette replied.
“Oh, yeah,” Jess said. His mind wasn’t functioning well, and that worried him. “It’s dark. Have we lost other systems?”
“The report isn’t good,” Esteban replied, and he filled Jess in on the details of his survey.
Meanwhile, Juliette got a drink of water for Jess. He gratefully sipped on the tube, and Juliette checked her other patients.
“Any good news?” Jess asked. He laid his head down, and the dizzines
s eased but only slightly.
“Juliette did point out we’re alive, and we’ve agreed that our primary asset is Orbit,” Esteban said.
“True on both counts,” Jess replied.
“I’ve a question for you, Captain,” Esteban said. “This topic has always intrigued SADEs.”
“Okay,” Jess said weakly. He didn’t think he could concentrate on anything that would interest a SADE. “But first, how are the other two doing?” he asked. If he was in such bad shape, he worried that Sharon and Tacnock hadn’t survived the impact.
“We’re awake, I think,” Sharon said, “although I think I’ve gone blind.”
Juliette activated the light that was incorporated with the meal dispenser. Its meager illumination managed to chase away the absolute blackness.
“Oh, that’s better,” said Sharon, when she realized what had been the problem. Then she uttered a subdued, “oh,” when it dawned on her what no cabin lights implied.
Esteban updated Sharon and Tacnock about the ship’s condition. While he talked, Jess got a look at his arm. It was splinted, and it explained the pain he felt, although that seemed secondary to the burgeoning ache in his head.
When Esteban finished his report, Tacnock complained, “My ribs hurt.”
“That might be my fault,” Juliette admitted. “I’ve no physiology data on Jatouche, and I might have held you too tightly when the energy pulse struck the ship. The grav system held for most of the acceleration, but ultimately, it failed, and we experienced a sudden harsh shock that launched us around the cabin.”
“Isn’t that just like a catastrophe,” Tacnock said. He started to chitter, but the action spread fire across his chest, and he groaned.
Juliette fetched water for Sharon and Tacnock. “You were trying to say,” she encouraged Tacnock, after he’d sipped on the tube. She wanted her patients to stay awake. The signs of concussions were evident, although Jess’s condition seemed to be the worst. The Rêveur and the Tridents carried medical nanites for Earthers in case of emergencies, but the travelers didn’t. She made a note and briefly wondered if it would ever be delivered.
“I was lamenting the nature of disasters,” Tacnock said, carefully sucking on his drink tube. “I finally get hugged by you, and I don’t remember it.”
Juliette smiled, and said, “I’ll save one for you when you’re well.”
Tacnock weakly flashed his teeth. Then he handed Juliette his water and sank into the bed. The relief caused him to issue a grateful whimper.
“If I might return to my question, Jess?” Esteban asked. He’d received Juliette’s message to engage the patients, especially Jess, and he was doing his best.
“Sure,” Jess said. He’d tried to close his eyes, but that made the dizziness worse. He focused on a point overhead, and it seemed to relieve some of his mind’s swirling fog.
“In your investigation of the tube, shuttle, and tunnel, you found every indication of abandonment,” Esteban said. “Then why didn’t you accept the obvious conclusion?”
Jess struggled to focus. The SADE held out his drink to him, and Jess took a sip.
“I nearly ordered the assault,” Jess said, as he tried to recall the sequence of events. “But there was this thought in my head that the pieces didn’t fit or something like that. Despite the evidence in front of my eyes, I couldn’t accept that the Colony would abandon the dome to us. It wasn’t like them to give up and scuttle away. Yet, if I accepted that they’d left, then the Colony had to have a reason for doing it. It had to be something I hadn’t imagined. Then I saw it from the Colony’s point of view. If they couldn’t have the dome, then we couldn’t have the dome.”
“That’s the essence of what intrigues SADEs,” Esteban said. “Biologicals have the ability to intuit possibilities when evidence for that conclusion is absent.”
“Our leader is adept at that type of thinking,” Juliette interjected. “It serves him well when he meets new races. He quickly adopts their points of view.”
“Not all of us biologicals have that ability,” Tacnock said mockingly. His voice was a whisper to prevent taking deep breaths. “I saw the empty connecting ring, and I was thrilled that we wouldn’t have to fight for the dome. I was waiting for Jess to order the assault. I imagined that we’d walk through the tunnels, the corridor, and then up the ramp to the deck and claim the dome, without firing a single dart.”
A thought that had niggled at Jess’s brain returned. He recalled that when he woke, Juliette’s voice had come from the aft end of the traveler.
“What were you two doing when I first called out to you?” Jess asked.
“Investigating,” Juliette replied.
“Doesn’t that sound vague,” Tacnock commented tongue-in-cheek.
“Investigating what?” Jess pursued, suddenly suspicious.
“We’ve been running calculations,” Esteban said.
“Even more vague,” Sharon added.
“The possibilities of being located by the fleet are minimal,” Juliette said. “We can improve the odds of survival for the three of you by giving our ships more time.”
“How?” Jess asked. He struggled to sit up, but nausea threatened to overwhelm him, and he lay down.
“Our energy cells are nearly full,” Esteban said. “We’ve considered transferring much of our energy to the backup power cells. These feed the air, water, and food systems.”
“At the expense of risking your lives, correct?” Jess pointed out.
“It’s a viable course of action,” Juliette offered.
“No, thanks,” Jess declared, “You’re not endangering your lives on the off chance you buy us a few more days.”
“That goes for me too,” Tacnock declared in a harsh whisper. “For all I know, your energy could last you months. You’d be giving up your opportunity to live long lives to buy us days, like Jess said.”
“Well, I’m not going to let these two males act more honorably than me,” Sharon said stridently. “These three biologicals say you can stuff that idea.”
Juliette sent.
In the lull, the SADEs ran alternatives. Esteban was the first to arrive at a workable solution. He sent,
“We’ve an augmented strategy,” Esteban said, and he told the story of how Julien survived decades aboard the Rêveur before the ship was recovered. He didn’t anticipate the story intriguing the patients, and they questioned him about the Confederation, New Terra, Alex Racine, and the original silver ships.
Finally, Jess interrupted Tacnock and Sharon’s questioning. “Have you done this before ... this resetting of your clocking?” he asked.
“No,” Esteban replied. “There’s been no reason to do it. However, the mechanism is simple to implement. More important, it will allow us to contribute energy to the backup power crystals. You will need those services to survive longer.”
“Then you’ll sit in seats, consuming little energy and with little to spare,” Tacnock reasoned.
“That’s correct,” Juliette replied.
Jess tried to reason, but his head ached and throbbed. He believed it was his job to make the decision, but the pain was preventing him from focusing on the pros and cons.
“I can’t think,” Jess complained. “We’ll decide this later.” He closed his eyes. His brain, relieved not to have the additional sensory input, called it quits, and Jess faded into unconsciousness.
“Is he okay?” Tacnock asked, alarmed that Jess’s conversation had ended abruptly. He tried to sit up, but pain from his ribs lanced through him.
&nbs
p; Sharon turned her head to regard Jess from across the aisle. “He’s out again,” she said.
Tacnock sighed and closed his eyes too.
The SADEs waited until their patients were unable to remain awake any longer. Then they assisted each other with the cabling necessary to transfer all but four percent of their power crystal’s energy into the ship’s backup supply.
Afterwards, Juliette and Esteban sat in seats behind Jess. Each had used dark lubricant to write one word across their chests. It said, “Julien.” They knew Orbit would understand.
Then the SADEs activated small alarm programs and shifted their kernel’s clocking routines to a one-to-five-hundred ratio. Instantly, they appeared as unoccupied avatars strapped into the shuttle’s seats.
When Sharon woke, she propped up on her elbows. In the dim light from the meal dispenser, she spied the SADEs in their frozen positions.
“They went ahead and charged our backup system,” Tacnock said. “I’m thirsty, Sharon, and I hate to ask, but my suit’s full. It needs to be emptied.”
Sharon stared slack-jawed at Tacnock. “Wonderful,” she muttered. “I get to play nurse. Someone who has no training and no manual.” The last remark she’d said sharply, as an accusation aimed at the SADEs.
Sharon released her safety straps and floated to the dispenser to fill Tacnock’s cup. Then she went about the business of emptying Tacnock’s suit and learning more about Jatouche anatomy than she’d ever wanted to know. When she was finished, she eyed Jess unconscious on his med bed.
“I suppose his suit is full too,” Sharon murmured.
“That would be logical,” Tacnock agreed quietly.
“Better to get it done while he’s out,” Sharon said, in resignation.
