Proxima Logfiles 1: Marchenko's Children: Hard Science Fiction

by Morris, Brandon Q.

  Wa*k, Gro, D_m. Three. Two. One. Gronolf pushed the vertebrae with all his might, and Numbark’s legs wriggled wildly. His head hit the floor several times. He’d forgotten to put something soft under it. Gronolf opened his eyes and saw that the pupil of Numbark’s front eye was moving back and forth quickly. The legs calmed down, giving the radio operator the courage to come close and palpate the patient’s stomach. Then he blinked delightedly as Numbark tried to lift himself up. Gronolf opened his knees, releasing the navigator’s head from their grip. Numbark turned and hugged him. Numbark’s vocalizer moved, but his words got lost to the vacuum.

  Gronolf looked at the screen. The green line was now as short as a finger’s length. It was time to prepare for the inter-ship crossing. Gronolf deactivated the engine, then used the correction nozzles to rotate the shuttle 180 degrees. The movement was so slow that they couldn’t feel it. With the engine in the direction of flight, he’d still be able to adjust the speed during the rendezvous if necessary, at least a little.

  After that, there was nothing left to do. He put his arm around Numbark’s shoulder. The navigator’s skin was still cold, but Gronolf could feel the beating of his two hearts.

  * * *

  Under normal circumstances, the plan would have been insane. The freighter was shooting through space at almost 100,000 km/h and was going to let a badly damaged ship catch up with it so that, as it passed the freighter, the ship’s crew could come aboard. Adam locked the screen where Gronolf’s shuttle would appear. He couldn’t see it—it was far too small for the ship’s sensors to detect it yet. And since its engine was switched off, he couldn’t make it out using the infrared sensor, either.

  They couldn’t be far from each other anymore and this made him anxious, as if he were alone in a dark forest at night and constantly expecting to be attacked by a predator. But no trees surrounded him. The cosmos was a vast void that was continually expanding, becoming an even more immense void at increasing speed. But even though only emptiness lay between him and the other ship, it could hide very effectively in this darkness.

  It was a good thing Gronolf wasn’t chasing him anymore. But this also meant that Gronolf’s chances of finding him were slim. A freighter that had switched its engines off blended perfectly into the cosmic background, becoming dead matter that was visible only when illuminated directly.

  Hopefully Gronolf would be aboard soon! While traveling alone, he had the strangest thoughts. Adam activated the radio.

  The shuttle had to be within range of the short-range transmitter.

  “Adam here,” he said. “What’s the status?”

  Gronolf didn’t respond. Ah, he’d forgotten that there was no air in the shuttle’s cabin. He turned to the computer and typed.

  “How much longer?”

  Someone wrote back, “Three minutes.”

  Good. This gave him 180 seconds to decide what version of the truth he’d tell Gronolf.

  * * *

  An alarm signal rang throughout the freighter. The ship’s sensors had detected the shuttle approaching from behind and registered it as a threat. Under other circumstances, they might have even been right. There were advantages to being the knight in shining armor. Would this then make Gronolf more understanding about Ragnor?

  Adam was already in the airlock, wearing his spacesuit. It was an intense moment. Half the universe was spread out before him. He saw many more stars than he’d have been able to see from the surface of a planet. But what was most impressive was how completely quiet it was. All he heard was his own breathing, along with the occasional gentle gurgling sound emitted by the suit’s life support system.

  The freighter seemed to be standing still in space. There was no indication that it was moving away from the stars behind it at a speed of 100,000 km/h. They were so far away from him that they were well beyond any relative movement. As he stood in the outer airlock door, everything looked safe to Adam. But if he were to accidentally push himself away from the ship, he’d be dead. He’d never make his way back, not a chance. He’d move away from it indefinitely at the speed of that first push and suffocate once his suit’s oxygen supply ran out. The universe was simultaneously beautiful and deadly. He secured himself with a safety line clipped to a loop inside the airlock door.

  Adam held a spotlight in his left hand and shined it on the airlock. He was expecting four guests, all much taller than he was, but the airlock would be big enough to accommodate them. Gronolf had notified him that one of his companions had been fatally hit. Adam shone the light into the blackness, and it was as if he had switched it off. Down below on the planet he would have seen a beam of light, but here there was nothing to reflect the particles of light. Light would only become visible again when it hit a reflective target.

  Like now. The spotlight could focus amazingly well. It showed a white speck, and when he moved his hand, the speck moved across a spatial form. Adam moved the lamp back and forth, and it was as if he were rubbing away at a hidden image as the shape of the shuttle that was approaching from behind gradually revealed itself. He checked the spotlight and saw a ring at the front end for changing the focus. He turned the ring as far as it could go, and the width of the spotlight’s beam increased to 45 degrees. It was no longer as bright, but now he could see the shuttle.

  It was a snake pushing its way forward toward him from the depths of space. The bow of the spacecraft had an organic round shape, like an elongated egg. It was covered with scales, presumably heat protection tiles. This made it possible for the shuttle to also fly through a planet’s atmosphere. Positioned toward the back on both the left and the right were antennae, and there were two pipes, possibly weapons-related, protruding from a gap at the front like the split tongue of an amphibian. Perhaps they were for firing torpedoes? If they’d been laser tubes, they’d have been capable of pivoting in all directions.

  But the snake was injured. Even from a distance, you could tell that its skin was torn in several places right behind the head. The crew was fortunate that its engines hadn’t been hit. If he’d had to turn the freighter around to come and get them, he would have been too late.

  Adam took the rope that he’d coiled up and had hung on his tool belt. He unwound it. It was about ten meters in length. Using a clove hitch, he tied one end to a loop inside the airlock and close to the floor. He threw the other end out of the airlock and into space. It moved slowly away from the ship until the rope pulled taut, and then it slowly came back because of the counter pulse. Damn it. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned it. The line was supposed to help Gronolf and his crew switch over—this way, they should have been able to pull themselves into the airlock if they missed the freighter somehow.

  Well, they’d have to have good aim, then! It was unfortunate that he didn’t have a radio connection to Gronolf. How was it that the Grosnops hadn’t made any preparations for the event of a loss in pressure? They must have felt overly safe because the vacuum couldn’t harm them.

  The snake’s head was still 10 or 12 meters away and was coming toward him at about two meters per second. He glanced up. Was there enough room? Yes, the shuttle wasn’t going to hit the freighter. Gronolf had done well. Then he saw him. He was upside-down on the underside of the snake’s head. Space knows no directions. He always had to remind himself of that. But it was a smart move. Gronolf only needed to push himself down slightly at the correct angle, and then he was almost sure to land in the airlock.

  A second Grosnop appeared. He looked strangely stiff. Of course! He was dead. Gronolf waved, and in the next moment he pushed the corpse in Adam’s direction. Adam took a step backward. The Grosnop rotated slowly, approaching Adam like a gymnast practicing somersaults. But Gronolf’s aim had been off. The corpse wouldn’t land right in the airlock, but beneath. Adam checked his safety line and crouched down. There was the touch-arm! He reached for it, stood up, and pulled the body toward him with all his might. The corpse followed him willingly, perhaps even a bit too willingly. Adam had
pulled too hard, and now he stumbled beneath the corpse’s inertia. Crap!

  He crawled out from beneath the body. Now the next Grosnop was heading toward him. He was moving his four arms in an attempt to row, which of course was hopeless, but he’d aimed well from the start. The Grosnop reached for the airlock entrance, let himself be driven inside, and ended up on the ceiling, upside-down. Well, this would seem only natural to him, since he’d started out in this position. He was probably wondering why Adam was wandering around here upside-down.

  The next Grosnop was approaching. He seemed to have had more experience in space and didn’t even try to correct his position. Adam threw the rope back out of the hatch. The Grosnop reached for it, grabbed on, and pulled himself right into the center of the airlock. Adam grabbed him and pushed him to the floor.

  Now only Gronolf was left. Adam turned around but couldn’t see the shuttle anymore. It must have been above them already. Where was his friend? Suddenly something was moving on the upper edge of the airlock. It looked like worms were trying to wriggle their way inside. Those must have been Gronolf’s fingers. Why wasn’t he making his way inside? But then Gronolf swung into the airlock from above with so much momentum that he slammed against the inner airlock door.

  Phew. They’d done it. Adam picked up the line, closed the outer door, and let air in the airlock. There were clouds of fog rising. It was so cold that the humidity was condensing. When his suit showed that they were at half of normal pressure, his three visitors suddenly stretched out their bellies and leaned back. They were breathing! It must have been a great feeling after going nearly ten hours without air.

  Adam opened the inner door and let the guests go first. They stopped at the food preparation device, which was still blocking the entrance.

  “Oh. This looks like the one from the canteen,” said Gronolf.

  “And it is,” replied Adam.

  “You carried this heavy thing all the way through the Draght to the freighter? Not bad for a human.”

  “Eve helped me and a crewmember. He thought we were getting it repaired.”

  “Good idea,” said Gronolf. “I was afraid that we’d have to eat human food until we returned.”

  “Fortunately, no.”

  “I had a feeling that your sister was involved somehow. I’m just wondering why.”

  “Apart from the fact that Marchenko disappeared? I think I can clear that up for you.”

  * * *

  “Thank you, Adam,” said Gronolf. “Without you, we would have suffocated to death in our shuttle. I know that it was at the cost of losing Marchenko. If he needs help, rescuing us has set you back.”

  They were sitting next to each other in the two front seats. The Draght was back out in front of the freighter again, glowing dark red. Gradually, however, the outline of the planet that was their real destination emerged from the darkness.

  “The ‘if’ was my real motive,” said Adam. “With you, there was no ‘if.’ It was clear that you would have died. So I had no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice,” said Gronolf. “I’m a foreigner to you, even though we’ve known each other for a long time. But Marchenko is part of your plex.”

  “Yes, he’s my family. Like Eve.”

  “Why did she stay behind on the Draght?”

  “She didn’t do so voluntarily. I forced her to. I didn’t see a need for both of us to endanger ourselves.”

  “But why did you just set out searching for Marchenko?” Gronolf asked, leaning forward. “It was apparent that we were going to do something.”

  “You take Marchenko for something like a traitor—”

  “No, Adam, I’ve never assumed anything of the sort,” interrupted Gronolf. “I just don’t know anything about his motives.”

  “We do.”

  “I thought so.”

  Adam sighed. Now the truth would have to come out.

  “We suspect it has something to do with Ragnor.”

  “Ragnor? I don’t know of any crewmember with that name. But perhaps my memory’s playing tricks on me.”

  “Your memory’s fine. We brought Ragnor on board. Remember when you took us to the hatching ritual? At the time, Eve secretly saved him and took him aboard the Draght. Marchenko’s escape might have something to do with him. This was the only explanation we could come up with. He may have stolen a freighter, and Marchenko went after him.”

  “You named him Ragnor?”

  Why wasn’t Gronolf angry, only asking about his name?

  “He called himself that,” said Adam.

  “That’s interesting,” Gronolf said quietly.

  “Why?” Adam asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. So you understand what this means?”

  “His name?”

  “No, his very existence. He shouldn’t exist.”

  “I’d hoped...”

  “Adam, we talked about it back then. You’re meddling with the very foundations of our existence. If an exception is made, all the mothers will ask for exceptions.”

  “Can’t you... it would break Eve’s heart.”

  “No, I can’t do that. I’m glad that you saved us. But that still doesn’t give you the right to tacitly agree to the downfall of our people.”

  “I understand,” said Adam.

  The plan had worked perfectly. He couldn’t tell Eve about Gronolf’s reaction.

  “I’m afraid you don’t understand. Otherwise you wouldn’t be looking at me so glumly.”

  “You understand my facial expressions?”

  “I’ve been with the two of you long enough.”

  “What are you going to do?” Adam asked.

  “I can only tell you when the time comes. Let’s look for Marchenko. This is our priority now. By the way, I switched our shuttle to the automatic system. It’ll be waiting for us in orbit around the planet.”

  “But why? It’s damaged.”

  “No idea. But who knows, maybe we’ll need it again.”

  Darknight 24, 3890

  Gronolf sat on the floor of the airlock, unable to breathe. His right load-hand was on the dead Grosnop’s shoulder. They’d kept his body in the airlock so that it wouldn’t dissolve before he could be laid to final rest in the water. It was only proper that he should be in the company of his relatives in the last hours beforehand. But his plex was at home.

  The corpse’s skin gradually faded, losing the beautiful, dark green color. And it was surprisingly warm to the touch because, despite there being no air in the airlock, it wasn’t as ice-cold as in a vacuum. The body only moved when the freighter fired its engines. Gronolf looked at him calmly. At some point, he’d be lying at rest like that, too, not for another 50 years or more, he hoped. But it was inevitable.

  What was your name, Brother? For him, he’d just been the gunner, and now as a dead Grosnop he had no name. Should he ask Numbark? That wouldn’t do. Numbark would have to refuse him an answer out of respect for tradition, but he’d find a way to give it to him. Perhaps he’d forward a message that the deceased had signed with his name, or he’d speak casually to the radio operator, his friend, about it.

  Traditions were one thing, and life was another. But the problem he might be confronted with soon was far more extensive, and it wouldn’t be possible to resolve it so creatively.

  There was a knock on the inner airlock door. That was the prearranged signal. Banners of mist entered into the airlock from the sides. He breathed in the fresh air that streamed inside. The door to the cabin would open shortly. He’d ask the radio operator about the name before it was too late.

  * * *

  “ Gr_*kor Kor_ax_,” Gronolf warned the small crew. “Buckle up and hold on!”

  Adam had handed the controls over to him, which made sense since Gronolf was so much more familiar with them. Gronolf noted how slowly the ship responded to his commands. A freighter was no military shuttle. Now the stern was swinging around. He steered with the correction nozzles until the engines were at the c
orrect angle.

  “Blastoff,” he said, starting the main engine.

  The force pushed him into the seat. Not bad, not bad. In terms of power, the freighter could hold its own against the shuttle. It was just difficult to maneuver. Under normal circumstances, they would never have caught up with Adam. There was little advantage in being agile in free space, since acceleration values were all that mattered. It was all the more remarkable that Adam had voluntarily surrendered his advantage.

  “Ugh,” groaned Adam at the very moment Gronolf had been thinking the same thing.

  Gronolf laughed. Yes, the pressure was hellish. He enjoyed it. To be able to swivel into orbit, they had to significantly reduce their speed. The planet was all that could be seen on the screen. In its natural colors, it looked threatening and strange. The brown dwarf's red light didn’t produce any brightness, just a slightly less dark version of black. Photosynthesis as they knew it must be impossible on this dwarf’s planet.

  He switched the screen to infrared. Better—now they could see clouds circling the planet as black, irregular spots. Over and over they saw cyclone-like structures. Where the cloud cover tore open, the surface showed through brightly. The planet glowed in the infrared. It emitted heat, presumably from the star’s tidal forces that passed through it, even though it had long been gravitationally bound. What kind of world could it be down there? Gronolf was curious. The prospect of setting his spring-feet down on another world was the reason he’d joined the space fleet in the first place.

  Where was Marchenko? He couldn’t hide from them in orbit. The planet had no natural companions.