by GARY DARBY
And though they traveled at a slower hyper speed than normal in deference to their emergency repairs, the Holett patches held their own against the tremendous acceleration forces, allowing them to continue to their next planet fall.
They might not get there as fast as their plan had called for, but at least they would get there.
Her mind turned back to Thorne’s description of being submerged and trapped in the acid lake and his audacious feat of getting all four of them to the surface.
Bianca couldn’t help and let out a long breath, shaking her head in admiration at Thorne’s exploits.
Not only had he gotten all of them out of the stranded craft, but he’d dived back into the toxic brew to pull her to the surface, knowing all the while that his P-suit was in tatters and a monstrous wave was about to crush them both.
She had to admit that it took a special kind of person to do such a thing and that—
Her thoughts were interrupted by a light tapping at her stateroom door. “Enter,” she ordered.
The door slid aside outlining Zane in the doorway. “Sorry to intrude,” he began, “but Kreg just notified me that we’ve got a priority message that needs both of us.”
Bianca eyed her pilot and furrowed her eyebrows in puzzlement. “Are you sure?” she asked in a questioning tone. “We’re not supposed to be getting that level of traffic.”
Zane shrugged in response. “That’s what I thought, too. But Kreg says that he needs us in the comms shack with our decoders. It’s not something he can do with the standard decode program.”
Bianca blew out a breath that lifted her bangs up. She gestured with one hand toward the doorway while saying, “Lead on.” With rapid steps, she followed Zane up to the astro-bridge.
“Okay, Kreg,” Zane said to the comms tech, “what do you have for us?”
Kreg nodded toward his lighted displays on his comms panel. “The bells and whistles started going off about ten minutes ago.
“Message must be pretty hot because there is a priority boost and send code group in the routing header for the interstellar relay stations. Somebody is in one big hurry to talk to us about something.”
Bianca hunched over and put elbows on the console’s dull gray surface. “And you’re absolutely sure it’s for us?”
“Oh, yes ma’am,” Kreg replied. “The address code-header has both of your personal alphanumeric identifiers and the ship’s recognition set.
“That and the address router are in general code, so I know it’s for us. However, the text is encrypted, and I need both your code keys for the computer to decipher the message.”
Bianca reached into her sealed waistband to bring out the memory shard that contained her personal codes. Zane already had his out and handed it to Kreg. With a practiced hand the technician inserted the two shards into the console slots.
A hand-sized square lighted up on the console. First Bianca and then Zane placed a hand on the blank surface.
An intense white light swished across the molecular recognition panel each time. Then, two jade-colored lights shone on the front portion of Kreg’s console indicating that the compu security program recognized both Bianca and Zane.
Nodding, Kreg instructed, “Access codes, please.”
With rapid strokes, the two entered their personal codes on the inset numeric pad and within seconds, the computer began to decipher the communication.
Kreg handed each their shards and gestured toward a nearby secluded console. “I’ll punch it out over there. Screen or holo-text?”
“Screen,” Bianca stated.
The two sat down at the console and watched the message scroll across the display. Both stared at the short communique before Zane rubbed a hand over his chin and grunted.
“Well,” he observed in a bemused tone, “so much for a nice easy run. I don’t even have to look at a star chart to tell you that this skewers the flight plan to no end.”
In a perplexed tone, Bianca asked, “Did we pick up the distress message? I don’t remember hearing the bridge crew mentioning this.”
“No, we didn’t,” Zane replied. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. The signal might be too weak for us to pull in, or there’s some stellar object between us and the sender that’s massive enough to block the signal.”
Bianca shook her head and tapped on the console surface in an agitated manner. She gestured toward the screen. “But to be diverted like this when everything is set for Canopus really throws the timetable off.”
Zane studied the message again for several seconds before saying, “They don’t say, but I suspect our transit time is the shortest to those coordinates.
“Plus, because the Helix is not well mapped, you need a capable crew to venture inside the cloud. It’s not the place for the inexperienced spacer.”
Bianca considered Zane’s assessment for a moment before saying, “All right, given that, what options can you give me to work with?”
Zane scratched at his forehead before responding. “The Helix is a category eight nebula; that means a very dense gas cloud, heavy particulate matter, high bursts of gamma and X-ray emissions, and a higher probability of grav-waves.
“I wouldn’t even begin to attempt to go through at hyper speed, even if we weren’t patched up. But because we’re not at full structural capability, it means a slow run in and back out.”
He skewed his mouth to one side while saying, “And if we hit pockets of intense grav waves, it could turn into a pretty rough ride, both ways.”
“Severe enough to damage the ship?” Bianca asked.
“Always a possibility in nebulas,” Zane answered. “Under normal circumstances, it would take a pretty strong wave to seriously hurt us. But we’re not flying under ordinary conditions.
“G-waves with enough pressure could cause us some serious grief to our patchwork. Holett’s are the best for typical interstellar transits, but even they will buckle and fail if the wave’s harmonics are just right.”
“And our sensors can’t give us warning that we’re going to hit a wave?” Bianca asked.
“Not until we’re almost on top of it,” Zane replied. “By then, not much you can do to avoid impact.”
After considering Zane’s statement, Bianca asked, “Okay, is it too much for the ship, then? Would it place the crew in unacceptable danger? If yes, we can justify not taking the assignment, you know. Even if it’s a distress call.”
Zane turned to a neighboring console and pulled up various star charts. He deliberated over them for several minutes before he stated, “Standard operating procedure calls for a thorough diagnostic to check for microscopic stress fractures in the patches and seams within fifty flight hours of the repair.
“Right now our internal diagnostics indicate everything is holding together and we’re shipshape. But we don’t have all the evaluation tools that a dock or repair station has."
He paused as if contemplating the situation and then continued. “The good news is that it’s a pretty short haul from our present location to the Helix, just over fifteen hours, in fact.
“But if we go into the Helix, once we’re done there and clear the Helix outbound, we’ve got to head for a repair dock.”
“Because of the g-waves?” Bianca asked.
“Particularly if we get hit by gravity waves,” Zane replied. “But since we have to drop to sub light, the phasic field will be functioning at less than optimum, like Stygar.
“And that means that the ship’s outer skin and those H-patches could get pelted by the grit and particulates within the gas envelope. They’ll take a beating for sure.”
He gave Bianca a frank look and stated, “I can get you to the Helix or Canopus, but not both. You’ll have to make a choice.
“If this weren't a distress call situation, I would definitely rule out going into the Helix, but under the circumstances, I’m willing to take the risk. But you can’t have both destinations. It’s one or the other.”
Bianca d
rummed her fingers on the console and let out a long breath, almost a sigh. “So, either or, but not both.”
Zane nodded in answer. “That’s the way it shapes up. I’m pretty sure I can get you into the nebula without too much risk, as long as we don’t catch any steep gravity waves, and I can get you out.
“Sorry, but I’m a certified coward. I can’t do the Helix and the run to Canopus without putting the ship and crew in serious jeopardy and I’m not willing to do that.”
He pointed to a star chart and on the screen outlined a possible course. “I can get you to these approximate coordinates within the Helix in a few hours, or tell me to keep driving for Canopus, and you’ll have boots on the ground in about a day.”
With a little shrug, he grinned. “Of course, if you order me to do both, I could refuse, shut down everything, call for help, and try to explain why we’re twiddling our thumbs in interstellar space.”
Bianca laughed a little. “We certainly don't want to do that, bad choice all the way around.”
She shrugged her own shoulders and groused, “It’s still a little hard to believe that we’re the only vessel that can handle this, but I guess we can’t buck city hall.”
Chewing on her lower lip, she directed, “Okay, Canopus is out, head to the Helix. The scenario for our guests is that we’ve received an n-space distress message from a private yacht yelling for help, and we’re going to lay claim for salvage.”
She cocked her head to one side. “Which is pretty close to the truth this time.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Star Date 2433.059
Aboard The Queen Bee
Walking in quiet, soft steps, Shanon stealthily made her way down the passageway. Every so often, she stopped and listened to make sure she was alone.
She was on the lowest level of cargo holds in the ship, a section of the ship forbidden to the novices and that piqued her curiosity.
Gambling that what she sought would be in the very last small cargo hold on the lowest deck, Shanon silently padded down the passageway.
If the Torther Ape were anywhere, she reasoned, it had to be here, where the poachers had not allowed the novices to go.
The challenge, of course, was to get there unseen and in the shortest time possible so that her absence would go unnoticed.
Barring that, if the renegades found her or discovered her missing from her assigned workplace, to have a believable excuse ready to offer in her defense.
She was still working on the last and hoped that it didn’t come to that. She had never been a good liar. Even when she tried, her eyes betrayed her by having a mischievous little twinkle that gave her away.
So far she had been lucky in that she hadn’t met or seen any crew, and hoped it remained that way or her little foray would be short-lived.
After a few minutes of furtive pacing, Shanon came to a corridor junction. Around the corner and at the passageway’s far end should be a metal hatch, which, if she had guessed right would open to the small compartment that would be the holding pen for the T-Ape.
Stopping, she put her back to the bulkhead and took a deep breath. She was betting that the poachers either had the ape stunned or perhaps under heavy sedation. Plus, the odds were good that they had a surveillance system to watch the beast, too.
Considering its previous rampage, she assumed they would take such prudent action. Of course, if they had, her plan was over before it even began but she wouldn't know until she could survey the area.
For a moment, she wished she had a micro recon-drone to be her eyes and ears that could sweep around corners and scan the passageway. Not having that luxury, she made do by easing a tiny mirror around the sharp edge and using its reflection, scanned the narrow corridor from the top to bottom.
Nothing she could see spoke of an exterior observation system. The bulkheads and ceiling were bare. She found that very surprising.
Either her guess as to the ape’s location was wrong or the poachers had only installed observation cams inside but not outside the holding compartment.
With another deep breath, Shanon turned the corner and with quick steps came to stand before the hatch, placing her ear against the metal door.
Closing her eyes, she concentrated on slowing her breathing and her heart rate so that neither distracted her from listening intensely for any sounds that came from beyond the metal door.
The air in the foyer was still and quiet, which matched what she was hearing. Nor could she feel any vibration in the metal that indicated something large moved inside the room.
Shanon steadied herself for her next action. She would open the door, take a quick look, and shut the hatch before the ape could react. The plan would only work if the XT weren't sitting silent and still, ready to ambush her.
That was the unknown variable in the equation and the chance she took. She couldn’t see through the metal walls, had no sensors to help her pinpoint not only its location, but its activity as well.
She had no doubt that the animal had extraordinary hearing abilities. It might even have heard her as she slipped up next to the door, maybe even her breathing through the metal walls and knew that she stood just outside.
If so, then it could easily be waiting to spring at her once the door began to slide aside and she would have virtually no warning of its attack.
Shanon knew that there was a possibility that death in the form of slashing claws and ripping fangs waited just a few centimeters away.
She also knew that if she lost her nerve and turned away, she most likely wouldn’t ever be able to face such a situation again, and still call herself a Star Scout novice.
Holding her breath, she reached up to the door access panel. Shifting her stance into a fighting position, she waved her hand across the control device.
The door slid open.
Shanon stuck her head inside and almost in the same motion started to jerk it back out when she stopped in mid action.
The ape lay unmoving on the metal floor.
She peered intently at the prone figure, her hand close to the door mechanism, ready to flick across it in an instant if the creature moved. Her initial thought was that the creature was either deep in sleep, or since it seemed so inert, it might even be dead.
For a full minute, she watched the body, with one hand still close to the access panel, ready to hit the pad if the animal made the slightest move.
The more Shanon watched, the more perplexed she became. She couldn’t see any indication that the creature breathed. No sounds came from mouth or nose.
The XT lay still and lifeless.
Leaving the hatchway open, Shanon advanced one wary step at a time toward the extraterrestrial killer. The wicked talons lay outstretched on the cold floor, the fanged mouth open.
The beast had its eyes closed, the accordion-like ears folded under the head and shoulders.
She stopped two meters away from the still figure and examined the unmoving beast from head to outstretched clawed feet. Her intuition told her that something was wrong, her logic told her to be extremely cautious and whatever she was going to do, it had better be slow and easy.
She took the last few steps and knelt near the creature’s head.
Even though her finger shook from nervousness, she reached out and touched the beast. It didn’t stir. With her heartbeat thudding in her ears, Shanon placed a hand on the creature’s furred chest. The body was cold to the touch.
The T-Ape was dead.
Letting out a long breath, Shanon sat back on her heels for a moment to calm herself. Then, she leaned forward to inspect the extraterrestrial. She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for; nevertheless, she began a careful and thorough examination.
A minute later, she bolted upright, eyes wide, heart racing, a shocked expression causing her mouth to droop open slightly.
She stifled an exclamation and again bent down to look at her discovery. Shanon worked her mouth, trying to come to grips with what she had found. She st
ruggled with herself, trying to find meaning and a logical reason for what she was seeing.
One part of Shanon screamed for her to confront Bianca and demand an explanation from the renegade leader. Another part urged caution.
For her, this deepened the mystery, but at the same time, it could well provide the answers to questions that had been brewing in her mind for some time.
Before she could make sense of her jumbled thoughts, the ship’s intercom blasted out, startling her so much that she sprang to her feet.
“All hands, report to stations! Landing parties, report to the flight deck.”
Shanon wavered, unsure of what she should do. Then, with an abrupt nod to herself, she made her decision.
She would play it safe, keep this to herself until certain of what it meant. To do otherwise could place herself and her teammates in even greater danger if her suspicions were incorrect.
The young scout ran to the hatch, stopped, and looked back once again at the prone figure. Shaking her head, she whispered to herself, “This can’t be, but it is . . .”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Star Date 2433.060
Geneva, Switzerland
Angry enough to take on a raging Flat Head Carnosaur by himself, no matter the four pairs of ripping claws and double set of 20-centimeter-long canines, Adiak Peller scurried to his private strato-liner that would take him to his opulent manor.
Of all the things to happen! On his way back to Terra from the luxury resort planet RioJan Three, a plasma flare had caught the lavish Imperium space-going cruise ship, frying computer and electronic circuitry and casting them adrift.
It had taken long hours before help arrived. It hadn’t helped that they had been weightless the whole time, leaving him sick, miserable, and stewing in his own vitriol.
He hadn't wanted to go with the diplomatic mission in the first place, even with the allure of the plush fantasy world as a backdrop to the treaty convention. Still, he had to maintain the illusion that he was a loyal Imperium bureaucrat.
