by Ramy Vance
“After that, the hole becomes too unstable. Our chances of making it through intact drop to…well. Basically zero. It will fall into a state of rapid decay.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
Jaeger hesitated. “We’re in uncharted territory. I’m not sure what will happen to it then. It…might implode.”
“How bad would that be?”
“Like…gamma ray-burst bad?” When she saw his incomprehension, she added, “Listen. If we’re not in good enough shape to make it through the hole by then, we sure as shit will not survive being this close to it if it implodes.” Jaeger shuffled through her screen and swapped the Lord of the Rings soundtrack out for the Agents of Shield overture. That was good “let’s get busy” music.
She scrolled straight past the file of classic rock set apart from all of the soundtracks. She was afraid of what might happen if she listened to The Proclaimers and could not remember ever singing I’m Gonna Be with one curly-haired little girl on a farmhouse porch in the summer sun.
She could freak out about her missing memory later.
One step at a time.
She cracked her knuckles and pushed herself up from the seat. “We’re gonna have to give the shield generators a serious tune-up. I want you to—”
Abruptly, a sharp blat of static echoed through the speakers, cutting off the music. There was a beat of tense silence, then Virgil spoke in that strangely distant, calm voice. “Sensors detect an object entering this sector of space under power. It matches no known silhouette in my database.”
“A spaceship?” Jaeger asked sharply.
“I believe so. It is…very large. And generating quite a lot of energy in forms I do not recognize. It is also approaching our location very rapidly.”
Jaeger and Toner stared at the object on the control center view screen.
“It’s a flying saucer,” Toner said flatly.
Jaeger could hardly argue. “Virgil. How big are we talking?”
“One kilometer in diameter. Roughly comparable to the Osprey. It has begun deceleration.”
“Oh, good.” Jaeger eyed the massive silver hubcap slicing through space toward them. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt that she would have expected to see some glow of an engine trail, but it gave off as much exhaust as an expertly-thrown Frisbee. Jaeger turned to the comp readout. “At least it’s not going to crash into us. Hail it on all open channels.”
“Hail it with what message?” Virgil asked.
Jaeger waited for an answer to come to her, just like she had randomly remembered the minutiae of black holes. Apparently, though, she had had no training on interstellar diplomacy.
“We come in peace, I guess? Messages of goodwill and greeting. In, uh, all known languages.”
“Hailing now.” A tactical display appeared in front of Jaeger, showing the relative positions of the Osprey and the alien vessel. It was big, and it was already within standard firing range—not that any weapons systems were online. “God, Virgil,” Jaeger grunted, “How did you not see this thing until it was sniffing up our ass?”
“My attention has been on systems and file recovery,” Virgil sniffed. “I cannot possibly be expected to monitor every system actively at any given moment. I am only one consciousness.”
“Those look like weapons ports opening.” Toner pointed at a line of shadows growing along the base of the saucer.
“They do?”
“Well, they’re sure as shit not opening up the windows to get a better look at us.” Not taking his eyes off the screen, Toner slid across the curved floor and slipped one arm into a harness loop beside a combat station. He moved with a sudden self-assured grace as he had back in the generator bay—not the self-conscious slouch he’d been affecting ever since Jaeger woke up. His eyes fixed, bright and sharp, on the screens.
“Can you work that?” Jaeger asked.
He studied the screen a moment, then nodded. “I think so.”
“Divert all available power to shields.”
“I’m detecting answering radio hails,” Virgil said. “But I cannot interpret them.”
“Are they audible?” Jaeger flipped through the sensor screens, scanning the energy readouts for something she could identify. Virgil had been right—the ship’s sensors didn’t know how to interpret the strange energy signatures coming from the saucer.
“Yes.”
“Play it on speaker.”
The speakers crackled and popped, at first painfully loud, before Virgil modulated the volume down to a choppy, crackling roar.
“That does sound like a speech pattern,” Jaeger said.
“It sounds like a pack of howling dogs.”
“Alien ship has come to a halt,” Virgil said. “I detect no further activity from it.”
“For all we know, it's charging up the big guns right now,” Jaeger breathed. “How are the shields looking, Toner?”
“The generators are still recovering. I have energy shields up to ten percent capacity.”
“That’s not nearly good enough.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Virgil. Run the signals they’re sending us through every language decoder you have.”
“Yes, Captain.”
On the speakers, the alien signal barked and howled.
“Is it just me or are they getting louder?” Jaeger called as she plundered the database for first contact protocol. Toner didn’t need to answer. A high animal whine cut through the command center, making both of them cringe and cover their ears.
“Virgil!” Jaeger screamed. “Volume down!”
She heard a faint crackling but couldn’t make out the AI’s words over the awful barking screech. Words flashed on the interface screen.
I have lost control of the comms system.
A shower of sparks rained from the corner of the viewer. The noise swelled to a shriek that stabbed at her ears. The bulkhead beneath her feet rattled as the lights flickered. Behind her, Toner was bellowing something, but she had no hope of hearing him. Jaeger grabbed the console to steady herself. Fingers trembling, she stabbed through the command center root directory, looking for the comms channel manual override.
There was a grinding lurch as the command center module shuddered, its spin interrupted. Jaeger’s body jerked away from the floor as if yanked by a ripcord anchored to the base of her spine. Shrieking defiance, she lashed out with her legs and kicked the wall, propelling herself back to the interface.
The instant her fingers brushed the screen, the noise stopped, replaced by an awful tinny whine.
Toner was yelling. At first, it was only a muffled noise, like heavy footsteps.
“—Spin back online!”
Jaeger had half a heartbeat to consider his warning before the module resumed its spin.
She slammed to the deck.
Toner crouched over her. The command center had gone silent—Jaeger’s ringing ears notwithstanding—and the grav-spin kept her glued to the floor. The emergency lights were on.
Jaeger poked tenderly at her ribs, where she’d hit the console with the full weight of her body. Bruised, but thankfully not broken.
She pushed herself upright. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. The saucer’s stopped trying to hail us, but it’s still sitting there.”
Jaeger took his outstretched hand and pulled herself to her feet. “Virgil. Status report.”
There was no answer.
“Comms are down,” Toner said. “I think they overloaded the system, but I don’t know if it was an intentional attack. They could blow us out of the sky right now, and they haven’t.”
“I just got this goddamned ship running again,” Jaeger growled. She returned to the comms interface. “I’m not going to let them—”
She froze.
Overhead, a small wall projector activated, creating a column of wavering light. The light blurred and flickered, its edges solidifying. It melted into a translucent human shape.
The hologram was slender, in a well-tailored brown suit, with a crop of fiery red hair and a thin, youthful face. He blinked, looking down at the AI console in front of him. He reached for the computer but stopped with his delicate hands hovering a fraction of a centimeter above the screen.
“What the hell?” At this point, Toner sounded far more tired than angry.
Jaeger shook her head, not taking her eyes off the hologram. The young man’s mouth moved, but he made no sound.
“I think that’s Virgil’s hologram interface,” Jaeger whispered. “There are AI hologram projectors all over the ship. I just haven’t bothered to activate them. Virgil sent me a message over text right before the transmission stopped. It’s lost control of the comms. I think it’s trying to communicate with us.”
If Virgil heard them, it gave no indication. Instead, it waved a curious hand through the AI interface as if confused by its lack of a corporeal body.
Jaeger noticed new words blinking on the interface behind the hologram—a message from Virgil written in a green, bold font.
That isn’t me.
Chapter Eleven
The hologram lifted its chin, studying the banks of monitors. Its lips moved in wide, exaggerated motions, but it made no sound.
Toner tugged at Jaeger’s elbow and jerked his head at the AI interface panel, where new words from Virgil flashed across the screen.
Firewalls breached. I detect an unknown AI entity controlling projector and comms systems. It is scanning my databanks.
“Well, stop it,” Jaeger hissed under her breath.
There was a tense silence as the hologram turned, its eyes sweeping over the access tunnels and the storage cabinets. Its gaze slid over Toner and Jaeger as if the people were just more fixtures.
Virgil’s words changed.
I cannot.
“Useless thing,” Jaeger growled, then clapped her hands over her ears as the comms systems activated with a shrieking pop.
“Nnnnngh….et fghafn?” The hologram’s mouth moved out of synch with the garbled words. “Kaughn ptk ptk sensor. Alien grhgnah—”
“Is that supposed to be English?” Toner muttered in Jaeger’s ear.
“I believe it’s trying to copy the language database.” Jaeger studied the well-dressed hologram as it walked through the command center, waving its hands over the interfaces. It brought its hands to its face and wiggled its fingers curiously, trying to make sense of the brittle pink worm-things. “If it’s an alien AI, it might be as confused as we are.”
“The saucer? You think it sent its AI over to explore?”
Jaeger nodded. “Send your AI over to raid the database? Crude, but probably the fastest way to learn a language.”
New words from Virgil flashed on the screen.
It is very rude.
“You’re talking to it?” Jaeger’s eyes narrowed. It might be the fastest way to establish a common language, but she did not want an unknown AI digging through her ship. There was no way to tell what kind of viruses it carried. “I want you to boot it out of the system.”
I cannot, Virgil repeated.
“Why not?”
There was a pause as Virgil composed a response. Toner nudged Jaeger and pointed.
The hologram had reached the access tunnel ladder and was starting to climb.
“What the hell?” Jaeger and Toner watched in dumb fascination as the construction of light shaped like an investment banker groped uselessly at the ladder. It began to float up the side of the module. Its arms and legs moved out-of-sync with the rungs sliding beneath it.
Jaeger nearly giggled at the sheer absurdity. “I must be dreaming.”
“It’s been one hell of a day,” Toner agreed. He stepped after the hologram. “It’s…heading toward the crew quarters. Should we…?”
“Yes.” Jaeger hastily slapped her computer to her belt and darted up the ladder behind the hologram. “Virgil, quarantine the damn thing if you can’t boot it. I don’t think it’s hostile, but I don’t want it running amok on my ship.”
By the time a response flashed across the screen, she was already climbing up the tunnel.
“What are we supposed to do?” Toner asked.
“You could start by unclenching your jaw,” Jaeger suggested. She stood beside Toner at the center of the command crew quarters, holding her personal computer as she watched the hologram examine the weight bench. It had proceeded from the command center as if the humans didn’t exist, studying the conduits and hatches along the way.
“Really, Toner?” Jaeger added, seeing a fifty-kilo free weight lying beside the bench. “You didn’t even rack up once you finished? If we lose gravity again that thing is going to make a door in somebody’s abdomen.”
Toner’s jaw ground tighter. He waited for the hologram to wander into the galley kitchen before striding over and slapping the loose weight back onto the rack—slinging it easily in one hand, Jaeger noted.
The hologram continued to blurt intermittent strings of gibberish. It stood in the galley, its hands vanishing as it tried uselessly to reach into the cabinets. “Pthk tk tk CAGHT dres—Sugar. One hundred grams. Butter—fifty—”
“What the hell?” Toner snickered.
Blinking on the computer screen caught Jaeger’s eye, and she looked down to see Virgil’s latest message.
It has accessed the media library, beginning with the cookbooks. I do not believe it understands what it is examining.
Jaeger wasn’t one to read much emotion into text, but she could have sworn the AI was very unhappy.
“Cream but—but—psssht—ugar until pale and fluffy ——”
“Hey.” Toner strode into the galley and waved a hand in front of the hologram. “Hey. Look here.”
The hologram blinked. Its gaze swept up to Toner, and it regarded the pale man impassively.
He’s very cute, Jaeger thought absently. Cheekbones like a Tolkien elf. Lovely green eyes.
“Hey, buddy,” Toner said. “If you wanna binge old episodes of Top Chef that’s fine, but we have work to do, and you’re jamming up our AI.”
The hologram’s fine eyebrows drew to a perplexed line. Then it turned and walked away from Toner.
Jaeger brought her computer mic to her mouth. “Virgil, can I get an update on the alien ship?”
No change.
The hologram wandered to the small hydroponic garden and studied the clusters of ripening tomatoes. “Separate the eggs from the whites—Ksssht tk tk tk—”
I am still damaged, Virgil added. And it is quite vigorous. I will not be able to recover system control.
“Of course.” Jaeger squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think as Toner pointed at the plants.
“Toh-may-toe,” Toner enunciated. “Tomato.”
“Toh-mah-toe,” the hologram said slowly.
“No!” Toner clutched his hair. “No, idiot. Nobody says toh-mah-toe—You know what? Never mind. Tomahto. Fine. Let’s move on.” He thumped his fists against his chest. “Toner. Toh-Ner. Got it?”
“All right,” Jaeger said. “We can’t kick it out.”
No, Virgil agreed.
“Perhaps you can redirect it? If you can’t stop it from going through the library, could you throw some more useful files in front of it? Direct its attention away from the…sponge cake recipes and toward language primers? Maybe the encyclopedia database? We can teach it to make pizza some other day. Right now we need to worry about the wormhole.”
I will try.
It would have to do. Jaeger let her computer fall to her side and lifted her voice. “Toner.”
“Tone-er. Tone—yeah, what?” The vampire was slapping his chest irritably.
“We’re losing time. Virgil will try to teach it to talk like a real boy, but for now, we’re going to have to work around it. We need to go work on the generators, but I don’t want to leave it unsupervised. Let’s try to shepherd it in that direction.”
Toner shook his head in disgust and turned toward
the far access tunnel. “You’re the boss. Come on, alien. Or should I call you, Hologram? Mr. Nosey? Red?” The alien looked Toner’s way. “Good, Red it is. Look over here! It’s a door! DOOR. Isn’t that interesting?”
Jaeger buried herself in shield generator schematics as Toner ushered the idiot AI down the central column, familiarizing herself with the special modifications that would make wormhole travel possible. Presumably, they’d already made the modifications—they had, after all, come through the hole once—but brushing up on the settings couldn’t hurt.
I know ship mechanics. She chewed her thumbnail as she studied the screen. Ahead of her, Toner frantically waved Red’s attention away from one of the waste recycling tanks. She stepped over a corridor threshold without looking. And whether I remember how or not, I do know Osprey’s layout. I know basic black hole mechanics. I know how the ship systems work together. It makes sense for a captain to know all of these things.
“Sew-age,” Red suggested, pointing to one of the tubes coming out of the barracks module as they passed. “Ffftk ch ch ch waste reclamation?”
“Yep. That’s our shit pipe.” Toner rolled his eyes. “Good find.”
Jaeger studied him out of the corner of her eye. For all his superhuman strength and easygoing charm, he seemed like an inherently agitated man, and she couldn’t quite place why that bothered her so much.
What I don’t remember is how to manage my crew and deal with people.
That, too, bothered her more than she cared to admit. A captain’s most important skill was leadership, wasn’t it? Surely that must have been trained into her as much as the basics of cosmological mechanics.
So why did she feel like every time she opened her mouth to give an order, she was making shit up?
They paused at the main juncture to slip on and activate mag soles.
“Electromagnetic force,” the AI suggested, watching the way their feet stuck fast to the floor. “Gravitational Pffffht shk shk shk substitute.”
“He’s learning fast. Do you think the aliens in the saucer are watching all this?” Toner asked as he opened the portal to the outer superstructure.
