Bernard's Dream: A Hayden's World Novel (Hayden's World Origins Book 8)

by S. D. Falchetti

  James flattens his lips. “Too much risk letting a Star inside the ship. Any other ideas?”

  Lin leans in, excited. “We could do a Hail Mary.”

  Hitoshi gives her a sidelong glance. “Was that Greg Bear or Ursula Le Guin?”

  “Oh, c’mon, Tosh, you’re slipping! Andy Weir. He meets up with an alien ship, and their initial communication involves physically tossing objects back-and-forth between their two ships.”

  “Oh…I see. You want to fly a care package over to the ring.”

  “Yeah! We could have a drone take it over. Rig up a screen, comlink. Do a show-and-tell with objects and flashes.”

  “I could configure a UV panel for video. That might work.”

  “Might also be seen as a provocation,” Beckman says. “Their idea of fighting is throwing things. We’d be throwing something at them.”

  Hitoshi looks over at him. “We shot all of them in the face with lasers a few hours ago. I’m not sure that an Intro to English video is going to push them over the edge.”

  “I like it,” James says, “but I think we’ll let things cool down for a bit before we poke the bear. How long to modify the panel?”

  “It’s quick. We packed a whole UV light kit just for Stars encounters. Thirty minutes to slap something together.”

  “All right, let’s get it set up after dinner and have Willow and Ava program it with what they want. Tomorrow morning we’ll figure out when we want to try it based on how repairs are going.”

  “Will do,” Hitoshi says. “Nice one, Lin.” He holds out his hand, and she high-fives it.

  She winks. “Using my full nerd skillset.”

  James was scheduled to sleep for four hours but managed only two. He ended up helping Beckman get Betty II moved from the cargo bay to the reactor room. He’d forgotten how big Betty is. She’s a treaded mech designed for exterior ship repairs when they’re on the ground. In zero-gee, she has electromagnets for sticking to the hull, but she still has to hunch over at the midsection to be able to fit through the ship’s rooms. Leading Betty through the ship was like guiding an elephant through a submarine, but once they got her in the reactor room, she handled deck plates as if she were playing cards.

  The morning shift transition meeting occurs in the Canteen, with everyone eating breakfast while they summarize the evening’s progress and work out the plan for the day. As James shakes his orange juice bulb, Ananke floats beside the Canteen’s media screen.

  On the screen, Silver Stars glide over the ring’s surface. Some of the Stars are different. Instead of silver asterisks, these are Sunflower-shaped, like the probe James encountered in the Rigg’s room, but much larger. Others are diamond-shaped, twice the size of the sunflowers, parked near the damaged areas on the ring. A handful are yet another configuration — sleek and u-shaped with a cluster of rods on each tine.

  “The Stars returned from the planet surface an hour ago,” Ananke says. “All of them flew conventionally. Twenty-two originally went down, and the first wave to return consisted of twelve standard Stars. Those flew in groups escorting the diamond shapes. It seems like the diamond shapes are unpowered containers, and the Stars are acting as lift vehicles. Shortly afterward, six of the Sunflowers ascended, escorted by four of the u-shaped craft. The Sunflowers have articulated manipulators for repairs. The purpose of the u-shaped craft is unknown. There has been no communication from them to us, but there is nearly constant chatter between the Stars.”

  “Can you make out if there are any weapons on the u-craft?”

  “No,” Ananke says. “We’re too far to see fine detail.”

  “The same amount went down as came back up,” Lin says, chomping on a croissant, “but some are different. Either the Stars are tag-teaming, or some of them hopped into different ships. Maybe it’s a right-tool-for-the-right-job kind of thing.”

  James scratches his chin. “How’s the drive repair coming along?”

  “Kicking butt and taking names,” Lin says. “Should have all parts in place by twenty-three hundred. If there are no hiccups, we’ll be back in business tomorrow morning.”

  “Excellent. Okay, so let’s go ‘round the room and talk about the plan for the next twelve hours. Hitoshi?”

  Hitoshi finishes chewing his eggs. “Swapping housing and emitters for G3 to G7. Betty’s laying the new deck plating. We’ll have to get you guys out of the wall breach while she lays an access panel there. Probably take an hour. That’d be a good time for you to pilot the repair drones and replace the com dish.”

  “Roger,” James says. “Beckman?”

  Beckman has his arms crossed. “What Hitoshi said. Also, pulling cables.”

  When James looks at Ava, she says, “Updating the dictionary with all of the latest chatter. We’ve got Hitoshi’s panel, and we’re going to work out a sequence of objects and trial words. Should have it programmed by noon.”

  “The big question,” James says, “is whether we fly the drone over today or wait until the drive is repaired. Any reason that we shouldn’t wait?”

  Beckman uncrosses his arms, leaning forward. “First, I do think we should wait, but keep in mind our opponent is mending their wounds. They can start throwing things at us again when they finish. Nothing to stop us from slagging the ring if they do that, but now we also have their ship to deal with.”

  “How do you think we should play it?”

  “If they start buttoning up repairs, send the drone. Gives us the talking option. If we’re both still doing repairs, let us do our thing as long as we’re not bugging each other.”

  James nods, “Yeah, I tend to agree.”

  “James,” Ananke says, “I’ve been thinking about the UV panel. We’ve had minimal success with light transmissions. We know that they can access my matrix, however, and even transplant it into a compatible substrate.”

  James narrows his eyes. “What are you suggesting?”

  “Attach the panel to a quantum computer. We could use one of the spare Q5 nodes and embed Ava’s message in its matrix. The Stars seem always to take an interest in my matrix, so maybe they’ll take an interest in this.”

  “You think they’ll be able to read it?”

  “We already know they have solved the problem of transcription,” Ananke says. “Even we were able to read some of their storage matrix from the Silver Star wreck we found on Aeolus.”

  James nods. “Can’t hurt. Everyone good with waiting until tomorrow?”

  Everyone agrees.

  “Anything else for today?”

  “Yes,” Julian says. “A few of you have doctor’s appointments. Be sure to take a break so you can be on time. James, I’ll see you at fifteen-hundred to get that cast-off.”

  James glances down at his left arm. He’d already forgotten about it. “Looking forward to it. Thanks, doc.” He pans his gaze across the group. Everyone looks a little tired, but spirits are up. Casts are coming off, and the ship is healing quickly. Knowing that they can hit the jump button tomorrow morning and be a million clicks away in seconds certainly helps. “Okay, we’ve got our plan. Stay the course and stay safe. Tomorrow morning we’ll have a lot more options.”

  The Riggs chamber looks much different than it did after the attack. For starters, the alien fragment and all of the structural damage are gone. Hitoshi has rigged portable lighting throughout the chamber, so it’s as illuminated as any other room on the ship, and this has greatly helped eliminate the spooky factor of the room’s weird geometry. All of the smashed g-wave emitters have been replaced, and Hitoshi supports the last one with Lin and Isaac’s help. Ananke is here also, watching from a slate mounted on one of the Riggs pylons.

  “Okay, Isaac, you ready?” Hitoshi says. “Watch your fingers. On three. One, two, three…twist.”

  Hitoshi and Isaac grunt as they twist the g-wave assembly. When it clicks, Lin snaps down the housing brackets and secures the fasteners with a driver. She gives a thumbs up.

  Isaac plugs in a series of con
trol ribbons as Hitoshi mirrors him. “Really amazing tech,” Isaac says, resting his hand on the emitter. “Used to take neutron stars colliding to make gravity waves.”

  “Glad we found something lighter than neutron stars,” Hitoshi says. He plugs a power pack into the emitter and backs up. A few indicator lights blink awake. “How’s it look, Ananke?”

  “Telemetry is normal,” Ananke says. “Looks good.”

  Hitoshi turns the power pack off and disconnects it. Setting his hands on his hips, he looks around. There are tools all over the place, but the room itself is pristine. All the emitters are back in place, with a quarter of them gleaming brand new. “Nice job, team.”

  Isaac says, “Never fixed a stardrive before. Kind of cool.”

  Hitoshi chuckles. “Yeah, me neither. Let’s hope we don’t have to do it again.” He pauses. “Hitoshi to James.” A second later, a video window appears in the left of Hitoshi’s goggles. The video is from James’s goggles point-of-view, so it’s a little like looking through James’s eyes. James and Beckman are wedged in the reactor room breach, pulling cables and feeding them into conduits.

  “Beckman, hold up a second,” James says. “Okay, Hitoshi, go ahead.”

  “Hey, boss, we just finished installing the last Riggs part. We’ll clean up and run through the pre-startup checklist, then calibrate and align all the emitters. Probably six and a half hours to do that. Estimating we can bring the full drive online around five a.m.”

  “Ahead of schedule, awesome! I’ll feel a lot better once we’re able to jump.”

  “Yeah, you could say that again. You get any updates on how our friends are doing?”

  “They’ve still got the damaged areas opened. Some of them peeled off and have been poking around their ship. Not sure what’s going on there. Looks like we’re going to be back online before they are. Nice work.”

  “Good deal. How’d you and Beckman make out with the com dish?”

  “Reading five-by-five, good as new,” James says.

  “Don’t want to jinx it, but I’d say we’re in good shape.”

  “Things are looking up. Thanks, Hitoshi.”

  When James closes the com, Hitoshi crosses his fingers, holding them up. “Okay, guys. I know lady luck is usually very unladylike to us, but come on, universe, give us some love tonight.” He glances around. “Let’s get it all cleaned up, cross the tees and run the checklists. Warp speed by breakfast.”

  23

  Emissary

  James is floating in warm, Caribbean water, his body rising and falling with every small wave. Overhead, the sky is the clear sapphire blue only found in Earth’s sky, with a blazing yellow Sun. He can taste the salt of the ocean upon his lips. He’s not sure which beach this is, and he’s purposely trying not to figure it out. Right now, he’s just focusing on floating.

  “James,” a feminine voice says. A soft hand touches him on the shoulder. There’s a scent now in the air of something warm and toasted and slightly bitter. The oceanscape fades like a memory, darkness replacing it, and he stirs. Cool metal is under his forearms and the rough synthetic weave of a harness holds him against the contours of a seat. The white noise of an environmental system replaces the rhythmic surf of the beach. James opens his eyes, blinking a few times as he focuses on Promise’s bridge screen. In the lower-left corner, the timestamp reads 04:04 - OCT 31 2094 LOCAL / NOV 25 2102 SOL / Mission Day 28. The toasted scent wafts over his left shoulder, and he turns. Ava floats there, one hand resting on James’s shoulder while the other carries a Canteen container. The scent emanates from the container. She gives him a warm smile, rubbing his shoulder.

  “Hey,” James says. He’s got a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and draped over his legs. He’s supposed to be asleep in his cabin, but he settled for a nap on the bridge. “Good morning. Is that coffee I smell?”

  She opens the container to reveal two coffee bulbs, a couple of cookies, and some croissants. “Guilty.” She hands him his coffee bulb, and as he unclips from his harness to face her, she takes a coffee and cookie for herself. “Space adventures are powered by coffee and cookies.”

  James fishes in the box for a matching cookie. “You know the way to a man’s heart.”

  “So, confession,” Ava says. “I asked Hitoshi to let me know when he was wrapping up the with the drive so I could wake you. Thought it’d be nicer than getting jolted awake by a com ding. Plus, it gave me a chance to visit. We’ve been working in our parts of the ship and haven’t seen much of each other the past few days.”

  “Yeah, I know. I miss our time. Hopefully, we’ll get back on regular sleep schedules today.”

  “That’d be nice.” She smiles, looking up at him. “Well, Hitoshi’s probably chomping at the bit—“

  James touches her arm, and she stops mid-sentence. “I know, but let’s just keep this minute for us.” He slides his hand down to hers and holds it. James still has his coffee bulb and releases it to float in zero-gee, freeing his arm to wrap around her waist. She pulls lightly on his hand, tugging herself forward until their bodies make contact, then she sets her head upon his shoulder and wraps her arms around him. James embraces her, closing his eyes. He doesn’t really care if any of the crew stumble upon them. At the moment, the bridge is theirs.

  The coms dings from the console behind them, and Isaac’s voice comes on. “Hey, James, we’re all wrapped up and ready to…wait…what, Hitoshi? Yeah, James. What? Oh…sorry, James.”

  James pulls back and smiles. Ava chuckles and drops her forehead against his shoulder. “Guess I should’ve told Isaac, too,” she says. She separates from him, and James turns to face the com panel.

  “No worries, Isaac,” James says. “I’m good to go.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell Hitoshi,” Isaac responds.

  Hitoshi joins the com. “Okay, boss. Moment of truth. Have a look at your console.”

  James stares down at his pilot’s station. The Riggs controls are grayed out with a red header reading Offline. He taps the system monitor icon, and a schematic of Promise appears on the main bridge screen. In the ship’s center, icons highlight the Riggs drive and its ancillary systems. One by one, the support systems blink from gray to yellow to green. The helical icon representing the drive pulses and solidifies to green. When James looks down at his console, the red fades from the header, and the text changes to Online. All of the Riggs controls unlock and await his command.

  A swell of relief sweeps through James. “All right, Hitoshi! We are back in business. That’s awesome!”

  In the background, Lin cheers, and James can hear her high-fiving Isaac.

  “Thanks. Team effort,” Hitoshi says. “Now, just about everything is fixed on the ship, so if our starry friends could try and not murder us for a few days, we should be set.”

  “Roger,” James says. “Ananke, any changes from the ring?”

  Ananke’s voice joins the channel. “A few Stars returned with new parts containers. Although some are continuing to repair the ring, there seems to be more interest in their ship. Currently, twelve Stars are orbiting the ship and projecting blue lights on its interior and exterior. I’ve also noticed a slight decrease in the ship’s albedo since we first encountered it. Although we’re too far away for fine detail, I suspect the amount of ice encasing the ship has reduced.”

  “Any theories why?”

  “If it were melting or sublimating, we’d see the water vapor reflecting sunlight like a comet. I think the ship must be consuming it for some purpose.”

  “Okay, we’ll continue monitoring it. How’s the translation coming?”

  “We’re approaching ten thousand words recorded. It’s enough of a data set that Willow has mapped repeating structures. I think once we can field test some objects and actions, we may be able to deduce some of their grammatical rules.”

  By field test, James thinks, she means throw them a quantum computer and hope they nibble. “Are you ready with the quantum computer and panel?” James a
sks.

  “Everything is encoded and ready.”

  He glances over at Ava. She looks optimistic. “Okay, we’ll all talk it over at shift change. Now that the drive’s fixed, I’d like to get everyone back on the same schedule so we can tackle the next steps together.”

  It’s just after four p.m., and the entire crew is on the bridge. Everyone has changed into their mission flight suit. If they’re attempting first contact, this feels like the way to dress. Earlier in the day, at shift change, James let the night shift crew sleep until noon, getting everyone back on a regular dayshift schedule. They’d agreed to wait until noon for their drone’s flight. At a distance of eighty-five thousand kilometers, it’s a three-hour trip.

  On the screen, the magnified Star ship glistens with ice. Based on the ship’s dimensions, the ice is four meters thick. The ship itself is nearly a quarter of a kilometer long, and the ice runs the entire length.

  “That’s a huge ship,” Hitoshi says.

  “Not as big as the Enterprise,” Beckman grumbles.

  Hitoshi blinks. “Beckman, did you just make a Star Trek reference?”

  “Once again, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Beckman says. “I mean the U.S.S. Enterprise. The aircraft carrier in that Top Gun movie of yours. You know, the floaty thing all the planes kept landing on. Back in the day before drone boats when they made them big.”

  “Wow, I guess you really liked that movie.”

  “You know I was in the Navy, right?”

  Hitoshi bobs his head. “Well, I started to suspect because of the Navy tee shirt and Navy socks and Navy teacup that you always carry, but I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.”

  “Three hundred and forty-two meters.”

  “And you have that memorized.”

  “I do.”

  Hitoshi blinks. “Okay, so that’s a big alien mothership, but not as big the Navy’s Enterprise. Also not as big as Star Trek’s Enterprise. 1701-D was over six hundred meters long. Just saying.”