by Craig Allen
“Aye, sir.” Sonja gave the jets another burst, and they were clear of the docking bay. The sun flared up on the starboard side as she thrusted again. They had already gone about a hundred meters.
Sonja checked the battery levels. The tiny grav jets, normally used for station-keeping, had used up a quarter of the battery already.
“Just let her drift,” Galloway said. “Our momentum should take us there. We want enough juice to slow down so we can dock.”
Sonja made some adjustments in their course. The Hive itself was much lighter than anyone had anticipated when they moved her, but she still had a significant amount of mass. And anything with mass had gravity, which was causing the hopper to drift toward the Hive’s surface ever so slightly.
“Four kilometers,” Galloway said. “We should make it with fuel to spare.”
“True, sir.” Sonja fired another short burst on the port side. “The question is, will the Hive allow us to dock and board?”
She hoped no one would overhear them. No point in panicking the crew, even if she herself felt like it.
“Two kilometers.” Galloway whistled. “Not bad timing. And as for the docking problem, Ensign, every ship that’s connected has been allowed to dock. No reason why that would change now.”
Sonja hoped he was right as she reversed thrust so that they wouldn’t overshoot their target. She checked life support. “Air and temperature are nominal.”
John leaned into the cockpit. “They’re breaking out thermal blankets just in case. But there’s not going to be a problem, right?”
One thing Sonja had learned in Officer Candidate School was an officer never told the people under his or her command that they were in trouble. OCS training also made it clear an officer was not to lie about what he or she could do. In certain situations, like the one Sonja was in, that left very few ways to respond.
“We’ll be fine,” Galloway said. “If we can’t dock, we still have other options.”
Sonja thought of asking, “Such as?” but disregarded it. A few other options came to mind, like using the hopper’s claws to pull themselves to the far side of the Hive, where they might be protected from the temperature of the sun. Or they could use charges from coil rifles and pistols for further fuel. All those options were possible, but barely. They had to hit the docking nipple, and it had to open for them.
“Five hundred meters,” Galloway said. “I’ll stand by with grapples.”
“We might not need that,” Sonja said. “But it’s a good idea, sir.”
The nipple appeared ahead of her. She thrust along the nose, and the hopper slowed.
“Fifty,” Galloway said. “Make contact, Ensign. Bump her with the hopper’s nose, and see if she reacts.”
Sonja did precisely that. In the past, approaching within meters of the nipple caused it to expand. She nudged it gently, causing the hopper to shudder. Nothing happened.
“Maybe we have to go in ass end first,” Johnson said.
Sonja shrugged, glancing at Galloway. He gave her the nod, and she fired up a forward starboard and a rear port thruster. The hopper spun in place. She did another burst for correction then brought the rear hatch toward the nipple. Again, nothing happened.
“Goddamn it.” Galloway tapped his ear to activate his internal comm. “Commander Gaston, do you read?”
~~~
Listening to Galloway describe their situation, Cody felt cold. Sonja was stuck out there while the Hive was diving into the sun’s corona. He gritted his teeth, wishing he had pushed for Gaston to include Sonja on their trip.
Gaston displayed no emotions at all. “Keep at it. We’ll see if we can do anything from here.”
Cody shut off his external comm. “What can we do? We’ve never had to do anything special to dock before. What’s changed?”
“This dive into the sun, for one.” Gaston grimaced. “This goddamn contraption may have locked all docking ports as a safety measure. We need to open that docking nipple, wherever it is. See if you can get our friends to take us to it.”
Stripe hobbled forward with his viewer.
You are worried and we would like to know why.
“Our friends are trying to get inside,” Cody said. “The docking port, the doorway through which we enter, isn’t working. It’s not the same one as we used but more…” Cody thought about their orientation for a moment. “It’s way to the right of where we entered, if you were facing inward.”
Cody wasn’t sure Stripe fully understood, but soon, Stripe entered a message into his viewer.
There is more than one way in and I know of where you speak and your mate is in trouble.
“All our friends are in trouble,” Gaston said. “This place is doing something that we don’t fully understand, and they need to get aboard before they get hurt.”
Electromagnetism spiked on Cody’s suit’s sensors. Then a nearby flier took to the air, followed by another. Stripe handed Cody his viewer before doing the same.
We will all do what we can to help we do not wish you to lose your mate.
Gaston let out a yelp as a flier gripped his suit and lifted him into the air. Cody held on to the viewer as Stripe lifted him also.
Electromagnetism continued flaring on his suit’s sensors. Cody tried to find the source, but it seemed to be coming from all directions. Every flier in the group had joined them, and in the distance, several more fliers flew toward them. Even young fliers had taken to the air, flapping their small wings as hard as they could.
Cody activated his comm. “Sonja, how’s it going?”
~~~
“Not well,” Sonja said. “The nipple’s locked up like—”
The hopper jolted suddenly as the nipple opened. It enveloped the rear of the hopper, turning the camera view black as it pulled the hopper partway inside.
“About time.” Galloway turned to Johnson. “See if they can test the air outside. I don’t want to crack that hatch until we know for certain it’s safe.”
The canopy suddenly grew dark. The nipple had wrapped itself completely around the hopper like some sort of amoeba. It pulled the hopper inside until the light from Kali’s sun could no longer be seen. The only thing illuminating the cockpit was the holocontrols.
Sonja grew heavy in her seat. “Gravity is back. It must be from the Hive. Hang on back there.”
The rear view finally came online, and through it, the interior of the Hive became visible. Lights flashed across Sonja’s console. Life support powered up to full. Gravity gradually increased over the course of thirty seconds to a full one g.
“Holy shit.” Sonja tapped a control, and the full console lit up. “Reactors are back online. I have full power.”
“Better use it.” Galloway pointed at the canopy.
The Hive’s covering had receded from the canopy, revealing the bare white wall, which gave way to the ceiling. The nipple grew smaller as the ground rushed up toward them.
“We’re falling!” Galloway’s shout echoed through the cockpit. “Bring grav jets online!”
Sonja grabbed the stick. The hopper slowed quickly then rocketed toward the ceiling. The nipple approached then passed under them. She brought the throttle down, banked, and leveled out the hopper. Through the canopy, the fliers approached, and they wouldn’t get much closer as long as she had the grav plates on.
“Set us down, Monroe,” Galloway said. “And good work. You just saved our asses.”
“I just flew, sir.” Sonja maneuvered the hopper toward the ground. “Someone decided to let us inside.”
~~~
Stripe set Cody down beside the plateau just as the crew of the Olympus Mons approached from the hopper.
Cody decided, To hell with protocol. He ran and embraced Sonja. “Are you okay?”
She kissed him. “Yes, are you?”
“I wasn’t the one in danger, you know.”
“I know. It’s just…” She looked at the rest of the crew and apparently made the same decision. Sh
e kissed him again. “I don’t care about protocol. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“This planet’s awful to us,” Cody said.
“Even when we’re not on it.”
Cody couldn’t stop smiling. Seeing her alive was such a relief he could hardly contain himself.
“Welcome to the Hive, everyone.” Gaston rubbed at his shoulders as the flier that just set him down took to the air again. “Looks like everyone.”
“It is, sir,” Johnson said. “Just did a head count.”
“Good. That’s what matters.” Gaston sighed. “What about the ship?”
“We might still contact the exterior sensors via the hopper,” Sonja said.
“Then let’s do that.” Gaston started for the hopper with everyone following. “With luck, my ship will still be in one piece.”
At the hopper, Sonja quickly brought up external viewers from the Olympus Mons. She had a shot facing toward the bow from a camera at the stern. What they saw wasn’t good.
At first, the view showed only stars. A moment later, the Hive came into view. A moment after that, the star was visible. The image repeated like that.
“She’s adrift?” Gaston asked. “Think someone from the Tokugawa can retrieve her before she crashes into the sun?”
Sonja slipped into the cockpit and started the calculations, but it didn’t matter. Every time the Hive came into view, she grew smaller and smaller. Finally, the camera flashed, and the hopper’s holoviewer displayed only snow.
“Goddamn it.” Gaston stomped his foot. “This worthless bitch of a Hive just spat my ship into the sun.”
“At least we aren’t on board anymore,” Galloway said.
“And that’s a good thing. But now we can’t get out of here.” Gaston pointed at Johnson. “Did you have continuous feeds and logs from the ship?”
“Yes, sir,” Johnson said. “I transferred them to the hopper just before we evacuated.”
“Good man.” Gaston patted Johnson on the shoulder. “Go over everything. I want to know why the main reactors shut down and why I just lost my ship and, nearly, everyone on board.”
Chapter Four
Cody sat on the edge of the strange plateau, a smaller version of the one he and Sonja had been on when they had first escaped Kali a year before, oddly. They had been in a firefight with toads who had access to coil rifles—G1 Gauss guns, to be precise. The two of them had barely gotten away.
Nearby, fliers watched them. Electromagnetism picked up, and Cody wondered what they were saying to each other.
He checked his sidearm out of habit. Gaston made everyone carry one, just in case, which didn’t make sense to Cody. The only living things in the Hive were the fliers and themselves.
Sonja approached and sat next to him. “Just like old times, huh?”
“Yeah.” He looked down at the people below, most of whom were setting up shelters with whatever supplies happened to have been on board.
She inhaled sharply then exhaled. She didn’t have an external suit on, and Cody had removed his. The air was dank but breathable. The Hive had adjusted the atmosphere to something both fliers and humans could breathe. Thank goodness both species were oxygen breathers.
“Just you, me, and Bodin got away back then.” She lowered her head. “I really miss him.”
“Me too.”
Cody had been afraid of Bodin and his brashness when they first crashed on Kali Prime. He warmed up to the man thereafter and even grew to like him. But just when Cody thought he could understand where Bodin was coming from, he was gone.
Bodin had manually detonated the torpedoes that brought down the underground factories built by the Reed Entity, factories it was using to build even more ships. Remote detonation turned out to be impossible, and he had sacrificed himself, knowing what would happen if the Reed Entity had its own fleet.
Cody understood the sacrifice, but he still wished Bodin was with them.
“Bodin,” Cody said. “And Deveau and… Before this last year, I knew precisely two people who had died, both of whom were orbital droppers like me. Now I know over a dozen. I can’t get used to it.”
“You’re not supposed to.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Hey, what I want is to just sit and talk, but the commander says to fetch you, so I have to fetch.”
Cody leered at her. “I’d like to see you try.”
She nudged him, grinning. “I’m serious. He’s got a plan, and he wants you in on it.”
“All right.”
They stood and walked down the ramp, hand in hand, the nearby fliers watching closely. Cody watched her closely. More than anything, he wanted the two of them to be away from Kali and all its problems.
One day.
Several minutes later, they entered the makeshift camp next to the hopper. Both the rear hatch and the pilot’s hatch were wide open. Gaston was standing at a table consisting of one of the deck plates of the hopper and a couple folding seats from the hopper’s bay, which served as the legs. Cody was amazed the table didn’t topple.
Gaston pulled out a viewer and set it on the table, making the legs wobble. A holographic image of the Olympus Mons appeared above the viewer.
“All right everyone, here’s the situation,” Gaston said. “There’s no reason why the reactors stopped producing power. They were working fine, and then they just stopped. Johnson?”
“Yes, sir.” Johnson stepped forward. “I found some anomalous readings about a tenth of a second before the engines shut down. The plasma inside the reaction chamber had reverted to hydrogen. That hydrogen had ceased all movement. The temperature inside was, effectively, absolute zero.”
“How is that possible?” Cody asked. “Isn’t the temperature inside the bottle something like four hundred million degrees?”
“About that, yes,” Johnson said. “At those temperatures, the plasma is so hot that it converts hydrogen into helium, and we gain power from the loss of mass converting to energy. But some force dropped the temperature to as cold as is possible without affecting the fusion chamber itself.”
“What could cause that?” Galloway asked.
“Nothing.” Johnson held up his hands. “It defies the laws of physics as we understand them.”
“We’re inside the Hive,” Cody said. “The Antediluvians built this place. I bet if we analyzed the hull, we would find atoms far above the known elements in the periodic table in an island of stability we are unaware of. The power source of this place is a mystery, as with most Antediluvian machines, but is believed to be powered by quantum vacuum zero-point energy.”
“What’s your point, Doc?” Gaston asked.
“Commander, there is no way for us to understand the technology of those species that lived long ago.”
“Like the ability to shut down a fusion process,” Sonja said.
“Exactly.” Cody pointed around at the Hive’s interior. “This place shut down our reactors. I’ll bet money on it.”
“But why?” Johnson asked. “For what purpose?”
Inside the hopper, the comm chimed.
Sonja darted for the hatch and peered inside. “Sir, the Tokugawa is hailing us.”
“Put ’em through.” Gaston darted around to the other side of the hopper and entered through the co-pilot’s hatch. “Tokugawa, this is Commander Maximillian Gaston. Do you read?”
“Copy that, Commander. This is Fleet Actual. Report.”
Everyone around Cody stiffened. An admiral didn’t often make personal calls, even to skippers.
Gaston managed to successfully summarize the events of the past hour inside of twenty seconds, which Cody found impressive.
After a pause on the other end, Jericho responded, “Glad to hear your people are still alive. I’m assuming you don’t have gravimetrics.”
Sonja checked the sensors. “We do, Commander, but not outside the Hive.”
“That’s a negative, Actual,” Gaston said. “But we are aware of our course.”
“You have
several hours before entering the star’s corona,” Jericho said. “We are sending the Odin to rescue you.”
Cody’s eyes went wide. “No, they can’t do that.”
“You don’t want to get rescued, Doc?” Johnson asked.
“The Olympus Mons’s reactors were shut down. Whatever force did that is probably still active.” Cody wanted to climb into the cockpit and get on the radio himself, but there was no room. “If the Odin gets too close—”
“Oh hell.” Gaston pulled up the comm system. “Admiral, you have to cancel that rescue. Our engines were shut down by the Hive. If the Odin gets too close—”
“It’s too late, sir.” Sonja pulled up the sensor feed from the Tokugawa on the hopper’s HUD.
The view zoomed in on the Odin as it thrust toward the Hive. When it was within five thousand kilometers, its engines shut down. The Odin continued to drift straight ahead just as the Hive changed course. The two vessels would pass each other.
“Can we get a hold of them?” Cody asked. “Maybe if their comms are on battery power…”
Gaston nodded at Sonja, who punched up the comm on her station. “Odin, this is Banshee One Eight. Be advised, the Hive is emitting some sort of field that… shuts down fusion reactors.” She shrugged as she glanced at Gaston.
Gaston jumped on. “Put all battery power to life support and keep yourselves safe. We’ll be fine here for the time being.” He shut off the comm. “I hope.”
“We will,” Cody said. “The Hive isn’t committing suicide. She wouldn’t approach the sun if it were dangerous.”
“You sure of that, Doc?” Galloway asked.
Cody nodded, but that was only an educated guess. It made sense, but alien beings often had a logic all their own.
The Olympus Mons’s crew had gathered in the back of the hopper, and Sonja broadcasted the feed to them on the rear-projection screen inside the hopper. Stripe and a few other fliers had gathered outside. Stripe did a head twitch that Cody had come to interpret as a questioning action. Cody didn’t know how to explain.
