by Paul Rix
"And can you tell why the engines shut down so soon into the journey?"
Takahashi floated across to another bank of equipment and studied the data. "Yes. Safety override. The navigation computer's interface with the star charts. The main computer decided the ship must be off course and shut down the engines as a precautionary exercise until it re-established the interface."
"You're telling me the ship thought it was lost?"
Takahashi nodded, slowly. "Basically, yes. I can see the data stream. The navigation computer has attempted to access the star charts more than six trillion times. If just one of those times had been successful, the engines would have ignited."
"And no one thought to include redundant systems to override such an eventuality?"
"It doesn't matter anymore. One way or another, the ship got us here."
"I hope the forty-ninth century is ready for us," O'Brien said. He was unsure how to take the news. They should be celebrating their arrival, but their joy was tinged by the knowledge their mission had not been entirely successful.
Takahashi noticed his concerned expression. "Now that we know for sure how long we've been traveling, I can give you something else to worry about if you'd like."
"Go on."
"While the main propellant should be stable, it's oxygen and xenon, after all, the fuel for the maneuvering thrusters is likely to have decayed over the years. It may have become unstable."
"Do we need the thrusters?"
"Yes, to control Britannic's spin. The ship is currently rotating around its center of mass every fifteen minutes. That may not sound like much, but we can't fire the main engines until we've controlled that tumbling motion."
"Which means we can't steer Britannic toward a planet."
"Precisely. More importantly, we need to decelerate. Our forward momentum is too high to enter orbit around a planet. Our current velocity means we'd fly past any planet before gravity could have an effect. We must fire the fore and aft thrusters for a sustained period to counter the effect of the rotation."
"That's a decision for the captain. Are the thrusters close to any important systems?"
"The forward thrusters are surrounded by water, ice, and thick layers of ablative shielding. An explosion would cause extensive damage to the hull, probably compromising some forward compartments but it wouldn't threaten the overall safety of the ship. Should the propellant for the rear thrusters ignite, though, they could destroy the engines or rupture the propellant tanks. With the remaining fuel on board, the explosion would be a swift and catastrophic end to Britannic's long journey."
"So could we only use the forward thrusters?"
"I wouldn't recommend it. You'd likely cause an imbalance on the ship's hull. The braking effect at one end means Britannic would bend. The stress would either snap the ship in two or, if the hull bounces back, cause severe oscillations along the length of the ship. Britannic would shake itself apart."
"You are full of positivity, Sakura."
"You're forgetting, Luke. We're in the future. If I can't fix us, you'd like to think that someone can fix the ship without taking risks."
"Good point. Maybe we should both stop worrying and embrace what we've got."
"It may take some time," admitted Takahashi. Although she was slowly accepting the reality of her situation, the security and familiarity of Britannic felt like the best place to be.
"Come on," said O'Brien. "If we're finished here, let's go back to the control room and wait for Lacey. We can confirm whatever evidence Oz has shared with her."
Chapter 14
"What happens now?" Maxwell asked as she wiped away tears from her eyes.
Garrett had given the matter a lot of thought while she had been catching up on her family history. He knew he had already overstepped the boundaries by reviving the crew. The Federation would surely take a dim view of his unauthorized entry to Britannic and his subsequent actions. One fact in his favor was that Captain Maxwell and two of her bridge crew were alive. The fourth member had died a long time before he ever arrived on the scene, and therefore the Federation could not hold him culpable.
Taking all these facts into consideration, as well as the expected celebratory arrival of Britannic and a new group of one thousand colonists, it would be bad luck if he faced any substantial penalties. He hoped they would quickly resolve the matter without recourse to lengthy court proceedings.
"I'll inform the Federation and I imagine they will deploy a rescue and evacuation team to Britannic. They'll stabilize the ship and direct it into orbit around the closest inhabited planet. That will enable the colonists to be revived in a managed way. They'll receive the best medical treatment."
"And then?"
"I don't know. My best guess is you'll all be taken to Constance II for a debrief. Then the orientation process will begin. The Federation has expert counselors that will help you all adjust to your new lives. I'm sure, over time, they'll give you options to settle on a variety of planets. You will all be well cared for."
Maxwell breathed a sigh of relief. "I've completed my mission to bring Britannic and its passengers to the promised land," she said, finally able to raise a smile again. "Although I do not know how we'll fit into society. Can you imagine how you would feel if you suddenly found yourself two thousand years from now?"
Garrett gave her a sympathetic look. She was holding up well under what must be immense strain. She'd only just discovered that everyone she'd known and loved was long dead. Whatever ambitions she'd had when leaving Earth were now meaningless. Yet here she was. Worried about her future and that of the colonists she had brought safely across hundreds of light years. He had always believed he was a strong person, but Captain Maxwell's mental resilience eclipsed whatever resolve he had.
"All you can do is take one day at a time. I know it must seem daunting, Lacey but I'm sure you'll find many things haven't changed, despite the passing of time. Most importantly, we're still human. You'll experience a lot of compassion for your situation."
"I hope so. I've not come all this way to be a museum piece."
Garrett nodded. It was time to contact the Federation. Maxwell and her crew needed expert help as soon as possible to minimize the stress they must be feeling. "Computer. Connect to the Federation Emergency Channel."
"My name is Osiris Garrett. I need to speak with an expert on Project Exodus Arks." He looked across at Maxwell. The worried expression in her eyes had returned. "It'll be fine. You need their help."
"You've just declared our existence. I think I'm suffering from stage fright."
"There wasn't any choice once I revived you," he replied, ruefully.
The Federation reply was almost immediate.
"This is a Federation vessel. Mr. Garrett, please state the nature of your request." The voice was confident and authoritative. Garrett assumed the person must be ex-military.
"Thank you for responding. I've located an intact Exodus Ark in quadrant Alpha-One. I've identified it as Britannic. It requires a Federation emergency rescue crew to deal with the occupants."
Garrett looked encouragingly at Maxwell as they waited for a reply. She returned his gaze, but the anxiety was still there.
"Thank you, Mr. Garrett. We recently tracked this vessel crossing the boundaries into the Stellar Cluster. We are currently assembling a recovery crew. They can handle the ark from now on. In the meantime, please keep your distance from the PEA as it may contain volatile chemicals. Remain in the area so that you can debrief our team."
"Understood," Garrett replied, raising a hand to indicate to Maxwell that she should remain silent. "When can I expect the recovery ship to arrive?"
There was yet another pause. "Five days. We appreciate that may be inconvenient and are grateful for your help. We request you share the information with no one. As you can appreciate, the president is preparing a formal declaration to share this momentous news with the whole Federation."
"U
nderstood. Trust me, I won't do anything to jeopardize the president's announcement."
"Thank you for your discretion, Mr. Garrett. Your service to the Federation will not go unrewarded."
As the comms channel disconnected, Garrett sat back in his chair. Something about the conversation didn't feel right, although he could not explain why. He'd had little need during his years as a bounty hunter to contact the Federation directly. That task had been left to Colonel Lane. Before he could think about it any further, Maxwell tapped him on the arm.
"Why didn't you tell them there were survivors?"
"No one needs urgent medical assistance. I thought you, Luke, and Sakura could do with several days to recover. As soon as the recovery team arrives, things will be full-on."
"Very thoughtful. Despite my long sleep, I am fatigued."
"You and the crew can remain on this ship if you'd prefer. I don't know the sleeping arrangements on Britannic, but I have spare bunks you can use. I imagine they'll be more comfortable."
Maxwell smiled. "You read my mind. I wasn't looking forward to spending the next five nights sleeping in my pod."
***
Commander Stone frowned as he looked up from the communications station. "That complicates matters!"
"Your ability to state the obvious amazes me sometimes, commander." Delta was already irritable with Stone. Maybe Frederick is right, after all, she thought. The commander's mental limitations were becoming increasingly grating. "We need to contain this before the news leaks out."
"We can establish interference patterns that will prevent Garrett's ability to communicate."
"Do it. You shouldn't need to request permission for something as simple as that."
Whatever the commander wanted to say in response, he kept to himself. Now wasn't the time to quarrel with the president's daughter. Not in front of the squad. He pressed a few buttons on the panel in front of him and gave a simple nod to confirm he had completed the task.
Delta rose from her chair and paced around Scorpion's bridge, ignoring the questioning looks from the squad members who were sitting at their respective tactical stations. Although the mission should still be straightforward, she was annoyed with herself for not considering that someone else might discover the ship before her.
"Computer. Give me the files on an Osiris Garrett. Let's see who we're dealing with."
Five seconds later, the main view screen flashed up a photo of a man. He had a muscular jawline and, from his toned features, was someone who liked to keep himself in shape. The ship's computer began sharing his details.
Delta stared thoughtfully at Garrett's image, absently rubbing her chin. "So, we're dealing with more than one man. What's a group of bounty hunters doing with a PEA? How did they even know of its existence?"
"A security breach?" offered Stone.
"For your sake, there had better not be a security breach. Computer, what information is there on Colonel Lane and his team?"
"That's not so bad. Do we know Levi Murphy's current location?"
The computer took several seconds to process the information.
"So Garrett's on his own," Stone said, too enthusiastically. "He's outnumbered and we have the element of surprise."
"Let's keep it that way, commander. Increase velocity and maximum sensor sweep for any other ships in the quadrant. I want no more unwelcome visitors."
Delta returned to her seat, relieved that luck appeared to be on her side. She was grateful Garrett had done the right thing. As a former soldier, he will be used to following orders and the chain of command. That makes him predictable. The one thing she hated in life was uncertainty.
Chapter 15
Garrett had been awake for over two hours before Maxwell, closely followed by Takahashi and O'Brien, strolled into the small galley area on his ship. He looked up from the handheld device he had been reading and smiled at Britannic's bridge crew. "It's amazing what a good night's sleep can do."
And he was right. The color had returned to their faces and, although their cheeks and eyes continued to look hollow, the three of them appeared far healthier than they had done twelve hours earlier. There was a vitality about them that had been missing. And a willing acceptance of the unexpected situation they found themselves in.
O'Brien sniffed the air. "I smell coffee."
Garrett laughed. "My drink of choice. If you'd prefer something else, the replicator may have a small selection of teas and other drinks from the ship's previous owners. I can't promise what it tastes like."
"Anything has to taste better than the nutrient shakes that Luke has been forcing us to drink," Takahashi replied, pulling a face of disgust.
"They're specially formulated with all the minerals, proteins, and antioxidants our bodies need," O'Brien replied. "No one said they had to taste nice. You'll be grateful for those shakes."
"Excellent bedside manner, Luke," Captain Maxwell said, patting him on the shoulder. "Oz, I'm sure black coffees all around will do fine."
"Coming up," Garrett replied, stepping over to the replicator and placing three glass mugs into the small alcove. "Computer. Three coffees. Standard."
He quickly filled the mugs with a steaming black liquid, the strong coffee aroma filling the galley. Garrett passed them to his guests and smiled as each of them sighed with satisfaction.
"What?" Maxwell asked as she saw the smug look on his face. "This is my first coffee in a very long time. It's actually not too bad."
"I told you the future isn't as different as you feared." He returned to the table and collected his device. "While you've been recovering, I've been reading up on your ship. There's so much I had forgotten. I would like to take a look if any of you are up for giving me a guided tour. I doubt I'll get the opportunity once the recovery team arrives."
"We were talking about that too," said Maxwell. "I should do an inspection before that team arrives. The colonists and cargo remain my responsibility until they're off-loaded to a planet. Although the ship appears to be intact, I want to be sure. For my own peace of mind."
O'Brien put his empty mug on the counter. "We've seen first-hand that the pods can deteriorate. I want to visit the chambers and check on how many pods have failed. Not a job I relish, but one that's necessary."
"That's settled then," Garrett said cheerily.
***
The inspection began at the foremost point of Britannic's central core, with the four of them arriving on two electric carts. At first glance, Britannic had survived the extended journey well, with little signs of its age on the interior. However, O'Brien did point out the occasional green patches of algae or bacteria that, despite the previous lack of air, had established a foothold in joints and rivets. Garrett assured them the algae was a common occurrence on long-duration missions and nothing to worry about.
Similar to the opposite end of the central core, a solid metallic bulkhead signaled that they could go no further. "What's behind here?" asked Garrett, impressed by what looked like a single block of metal."
"That is two meters of a dense carbonized steel alloy," Takahashi replied, calling forward from the cart she was sharing with O'Brien. "Beyond that is approximately forty million liters of water in the form of ice, encased in ten centimeters of lead. Around that is another meter of titanium. Together, they form an effective shield against meteorites, interstellar dust particles, and cosmic rays. The fact we're here proves
it worked."
"Thanks, Sakura," Garrett replied. "Remind me to show you the Britannic's outer hull. She took some heavy bombardment on the journey from Earth. It has some impressive war wounds."
Maxwell pointed to the two large hatches on both sides of the corridor. They were the full height of the corridor, and just as wide. "Behind the hatch on the right is the first of fifteen equipment storage bays."
"I was reading about these," Garrett interrupted. This is the heavy construction equipment and supplies for building dwellings. Thousands of tons of everything you need to survive your first few months on a new world. It makes perfect sense to have so much mass at the front of Britannic. Along with the ice and lead shielding behind the bulkhead, it provides an excellent counterbalance against the mass of the main engines and propellant."
"It helps enormously," Takahashi admitted. "You need to remember that, with full tanks, the propellant accounts for almost seventy percent of the mass of Britannic."
"That seems such an enormous waste of resources and space," Garrett said.
"I'm sorry, but no one had thought to invent more efficient propulsion engines as part of Project Exodus. They were supposed to run continuously for one hundred and sixty years. If only we had waited to have propulsion systems like your own." Takahashi smiled. She was looking forward to getting to grips with the new technology and challenging herself.
"Of course, when the propellant tanks are empty, Britannic performs a controlled entry into a planet's atmosphere," added Maxwell. "At least that's the concept."
"I've seen some vintage footage," replied Garrett, immediately regretting using the term 'vintage' as she saw Maxwell flinch at the word. "The concept as you call it was successful and looked spectacular. The PEAs turned into huge fireballs as the air friction heated the outer hull to three thousand degrees. I think fewer than ten percent of ships failed to land in one piece, their structural integrity overwhelmed by gravitational stress. I'll show you when we return to my ship. The immense clouds of steam when the arks soft-landed on water is impossible to describe."
