by Max Swan
Nadirs eyes narrowed. “Does it bother you that without ‘Keeper Mysticism’ humanity wouldn’t be able to travel through the Void at all?”
“It doesn’t bother me as such, it only shows there’s so much we’re yet to learn. One day a solution will reveal itself to us, and things will change again.” Dexter looked down at his hands again hoping the pointless conversation would end. A conversation that every Brainiac has to endure with Keeper’s all too often.
Nadir laughed at Dexter’s obvious discomfort. “Ah, yes, your ‘Brainiac Utopia’, where Keepers no longer exist. It’ll never happen.”
Dexter didn’t look up. Why do Keepers always have to have this pointless argument with us, he thought? “If you say so, sir,” he finally answered.
When the carriage finally stopped, Nadir stood abruptly looming over the small Brainiac. Baring his teeth with fists clenched at his sides. Fearing Nadirs about going to strike him, Dexter braced himself and closed his eyes. Nadir brushed past him, leaving a faint breeze with a smell of musk in his wake. The Brainiac sighed to himself in relief and jumped off his seat, following Nadir out of the carriage. Dexter had to run to get inside the lift before the doors closed.
A tense silence remained, as the lift took them down to Enginelab. Dexter felt grateful they’re on their way to Earth and he’d only have to endure it for a short time. Imagine having to spend any extended time on this Ship with this boorish Keeper, he thought, and shivered. So he felt confident that despite what damage they might find in Enginelab, they would at least be able to reach Earth where the repair of this Ship would not be his concern. Just a few more hours and I can be rid of this mess, Dexter hoped.
*****
Entering Enginelab brought home again the severity of what had happened to them. Lights were flashing, a few stations were working, and detritus scattered everywhere. A smell of burned flesh permeated the air, Ships flesh. Captain Blake, a tall stocky black man, stood waiting at the lift for them to arrive. As the doors opened, the two men inside looked at Blake in shock. He stood covered from head to toe in muck from the sabotage, and the repairs in progress. Blake carried a heavy looking tool belt around his waist, and had a thick cigar in the corner of his mouth that had a wispy trail of smoke rising from it.
As Nadir stepped from the lift, Blake saluted. Dexter didn’t have a rank, so Blake ignored him. “Welcome to Enginelab, sir,” Blake said.
“Gordon, you look dreadful. Are you OK?” Nadir asked, genuinely concerned for his friend.
Blake chuckled. “Huang, Barrett, and I have had better days, but we’re still able to perform our duties, sir.”
As Nadir drew near, Blake turned and walked next to him, making Dexter have to suddenly step back or get knocked over. Nadir briefly looked back at him, a faint smile crossing his face, but he continued talking to Captain Blake.
“So what’s the extent of the damage?”
“Systems are down all over Ship, but Lieutenant Huang has the central computer functioning again. I have sent her to the Bridge to get some stations back online for you. Life support is only functioning on the trail, Decks C and D, Enginelab, and the Hanger Bay, to preserve power,” Blake reported. They stopped at the bottom of some steps that led up to a gantry that ran alongside the housing for the qdrive.
Nadir ran his hand through his hair as he looked at the structure. “So what happened to the q-drive?”
A noticeable line of sweat suddenly appeared on Blake’s forehead. “A Sludge Bomb, sir. The qdrives fucked.”
‘Sludge’ is the name used for an organic substance discovered on a planet in the Orion Sector that can absorb energy at a terrifying rate. As it absorbs energy, it undergoes rapid cellular mitosis thus increasing its volume. On a human one drop can kill in minutes, leaving more than half a liter of sludge afterwards. On a q-drive it can cause a catastrophic breakdown, leaving deciliters of the dangerous substance. The q-drive is surrounded by a large titanium protective cover about the size of a four shipping containers stacked into a rectangular box. The fail-safes had sealed the qdrive housing tightly, before Ship entering the Void. If the bomb had detonated a minute later, the sludge would have consumed Ship by now.
“We’re fortunate to be alive,” Nadir said rubbing his hand over the qdrive housing.
Blake nodded. “Damn straight.”
Being ignored by both men, Dexter decided to cut in. “The sabotage had to be an inside job.”
Both Officers looked at him like parents of a naughty child misbehaving in public. “Well I’m more than happy to let Command do a full investigation once we reach Earth. Right now, I have sludge containment protocols to carry out,” Blake said, looking back at Nadir.
“No, we need to make sure emergency power is replenished. Ship has to feed, and we still need thrusters for Earth orbit insertion,” Nadir said.
“We could rig one of the field generators into our emergency power systems here in Enginelab. If I remember correctly we do have several in the aft stores, near the hanger bay,” Dexter suggested.
Blake started scratching the back of his neck. “The shrimp is right, but it seems we have a terrible manpower shortage here, Colonel.”
Nadir thought for a moment. “Sludge containment is a priority, so keep working on it, Gordon. I’ll go to the storeroom and get the generator. Mr. Crimpson, you to head to the communications hub and get it back online. Let me know when we can contact the shuttle.”
“Yes sir,” Dexter replied.
The three men walked off in separate directions. Dexter gave a slight chuckle to himself as he entered the lift. At least I’m not stuck in a shuttle with that insufferable woman, he thought. What made it more amusing is that he knew Paul had a hangover, which would further heighten his suffering at her constant snippy comments.
*****
Paul looked over at Barrett who looked sweaty, and fidgeted with her seat belt. “Is something wrong, Captain?” he asked.
She twisted her mouth in a sour expression. “Are you in any condition to pilot this thing? You look and smell dreadful, and it wouldn’t surprise me if you’re still drunk.”
Jesus, we’ve been together ten minutes and she’s already acting like a bitch, Paul thought. “You should look in the mirror sometime, Captain.”
Barrett turned her head sharply away from him and looked ahead, pursing her lips until they blanched, trying to ignore Paul’s comment. He wasn’t being smart in saying that either. Captain Barrett had spent her time in the Void helping Captain Blake in Enginelab, so her odor is no better than his. While Paul watched her, he reached over in an exaggerated manner and hit a button in front of him. Suddenly the Shuttle accelerated up the launch tube, throwing them back in their chairs. They shot into space and Paul worked the controls taking the shuttle to one hundred kilometers in front of Ship, holding the same speed to maintain its position.
As he piloted the shuttle, Barrett had her head down as she touched the screens in front of her. The light on the screens followed her fingers around as she scanned known communication channels. Paul ran a sensor sweep of the area hoping to find other Ships speeding toward them, but curiously found nothing. Not even traces of vessels been through the area recently.
He turned to Barrett with a worried frown on his face. “You getting anything, cos I got nada?”
Her posture stiffened, and she looked up at him slightly dazed, shaking her head. “I can’t raise anyone. It’s as if no one’s there.”
“What about the Europa colony, that’s pretty close?” Paul rubbed his pounding temple, he could really use a drink right about now.
Barrett replied in a tart tone, “There’s no response to any EMC, or standard Earth frequencies, and there’s no chatter either that indicates they’re even there to begin with.”
Captain Barrett looked over Paul with distaste. She always thought soldiers like him got everything handed to them, while she toiled at her job with little recognition. Sometimes, it seemed as thou
gh her work is always being undermined or questioned by others. Greeters especially were the worst, with their lack of respect for other field in the Corps. It frustrated her that they got away with everything, from insolence to conduct unbecoming an officer. So as far as she’s concerned, she isn’t going to kowtow to any Greeter. Especially one she thought might be a drunk.
Paul looked away from her. Rubbing his eyes with one hand, drawing a quick breath, and trying to hold his tongue, he had an idea. So turning back to her he said, “Try other frequencies you wouldn’t normally bother with; see what you get.”
She nodded, surprised he had thought of that and chided herself for not doing it first. As Barrett worked away Paul decided to see whether he could contact Ship, but all he got is an earful of static for his trouble; further compounding his headache.
Barrett mumbled, “That’s weird.”
Paul looked over at her as she wiped sweat from her brow. “You got something?”
“I’m receiving signals at lower bands, but I’m not sure what to make of them,” she frowned in concentration.
“Show me,” Paul ordered.
Barrett touched her console, one of the monitors suddenly showed a group of people sitting on a sofa talking to each other. They heard laughter as the people spoke, but they didn’t get the jokes. They watched for around ten minutes, transfixed by the young people chatting about their failed relationships. A brunette named Monica is worried about a date she had to break off, and her friends were supporting her.
Finally, Paul said, “Weird! Look at the clothes they’re wearing. Are there any others like this?”
Barrett nodded. “There’s thousands of other signals. Most are audio: music or talking. The others are of a two-dimensional video format like this one. Every major human language is represented.”
Paul sighed. “I wish Dex was here, he’d know what to make of this crap.” He leant over and switched to another signal showing a cartoon of a talking rabbit eating a carrot.
Barrett suddenly jumped excitedly, like a child. “Hey, I know this one. Um it’s something bunny? Err Bugs, yeah Bugs Bunny I think.”
Paul’s eyes went wide in recognition. “Yeah, I think you’re right. I remember seeing clips like this on a school trip to a Museum when I was a child.” He tapped his finger on his lip as he thought. “Television. That’s it… It’s television.”
Barrett developed a condescending smile. “Why the hell would we be seeing television out here? It doesn’t make sense.”
Paul shrugged. “Well, tell me when find a more plausible theory, Miss Brainiac.”
“It’s not my job to think of theories, Major,” she replied, a pinched expression forming on her face.
Paul rolled his eyes thinking, I’m sure your job is whatever suits you at the time. “Anyway, we had better send a message to Bolaris, and let them know something screwy is going on here.”
“I think that is for the Colonel decide?” she said, with a harsh squint to her eyes.
“The Colonel isn’t here, is he? What if the Earth has been attacked or something? We have to warn them that something is up.” Paul argued.
Barrett began to say something, thought better of it and began working her station again. However, after a few minutes she began having difficulties. She screwed-up her nose giving a snort in frustration.
“What’s wrong now?” Paul asked.
“The computer is saying Bolaris isn’t there,” she said coldly.
“Let me see.” Paul began to work the console to double-check. “Oh, I see the problem. The stars are out of alignment with the computers charts.”
“How the hell could that happen?”
Paul hit a button and the station began to make a high pitched humming noise. “Maybe the gravity surge upset the programs? We need to recalibrate the system.”
They watched the star maps flit across the monitor until finally one stayed in place, and the computer announced it had made a match to current astronomical positions. Both looked at the map, mouths open and eyes wide in shock. At the bottom of the chart in white letters flashed: Approximate match 2445 CE.
“That can’t be right,” Barrett finally said, almost whispering.
“Run it again.” This time Barrett did it, and the same result came back.
Barrett shook her head. “This shuttle is malfunctioning. I suggest we go back and get another.”
Paul sat back in his chair and crossed his arms as he looked thoughtfully at the monitor. “Now, hang on. Let’s consider the facts here. There’s no known EMC communications, except television and strange low band radio signals. While the telemetry indicates the astronomical position of the stars matches the middle twenty-fifth century.”
Barrett cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. “The problem with your facts, is that television didn’t exist in the twenty-fifth century.”
Paul sighed. “All right, let’s do a complete system’s check, and start again. However, if things are working properly, despite the anomaly of the television signals, we cannot ignore the astronomical data.” Barrett burst out laughing, prompting Paul to ask, “What’s so funny?”
She got herself under control and said, “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, I’m glad you’re the one who has to tell the Colonel.”
Paul had to admit he liked her gallows humor. “At least I can do it out here, so I don’t have to witness him blowing a spignon over it.”
They laughed. The mood inside the shuttle lightened briefly. Maybe there’s hope for her yet, Paul thought. Still, he couldn’t help feeling dread because the star charts were undeniable. With Ship so badly damaged, and a ridiculously small crew. The simplest of repairs would still take them months; it painted a bleak picture. They began working, running diagnostics on the systems in the shuttle. The checks would take them a couple of hours to finish. Chatter between them stopped, as they digested what became truer by the moment.
Nobody is here to help them.
They are alone.
Chapter 4
The intercom crackled, and Dexter’s voice rang across the Bridge.
“Colonel, communications are now working.”
Nadir hurried to his station, and touched the console saying loudly, “Good work, Mr. Crimpson, report to the Bridge once you’ve finished there. We need your expertise here.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, then the connection cut-out.
Nadir walked to the communications station and activated the console, immediately haling the shuttle.
“Ship to Shuttle alpha one, one, two. Are you reading me?” Nadir asked.
On the main monitor, an image appeared of Paul and Captain Barrett looking down on them from slightly above their heads. Both looked up to the camera with a relieved smile.
Paul said, “This Shuttle alpha one, one, two receiving. It’s good to hear your voice, sir.”
“So when is help getting here? It’s odd they haven’t arrived yet. Is there a problem?”
Paul and Captain Barrett looked at each other, recognizing the moment they were dreading had arrived.
Paul said, “Colonel, help won’t be coming, we’re alone out here.”
Nadir frowned deeply making the wrinkles on his face move about.
“What the hell do you mean by that?” he asked. Lieutenant Huang, working on a station, popped her head up to at the monitor.
Paul rubbed his hand down his face while he steeled himself to give his report. “Colonel, I’m sorry to report that it appears we have travelled back in time.”
Nadir bared his teeth, then said sharply, “This isn’t time for jokes, Major.”
Captain Barrett suddenly interjected. “Colonel, he’s not joking. Our findings can lead to no other conclusion.”
Nadir folded his arms across his chest. “All right, explain yourselves then.”
Paul nodded to Barrett who hesitated for a moment. She cleared her throat and said, “Well first, there’s no response from Command or any chatter on
any known frequencies. The only signals we’ve picked up shouldn’t be here at all.”
“What signals?” Dexter asked from behind, making Nadir jump slightly and turn to look at him. He had arrived from the communications hub.
Paul noticeably sweated now. “Its television and radio signals, Dex. We’ve been watching ancient ‘Warner Brothers’ cartoons like Bugs Bunny for a few hours now.”
“That’s impossible,” Nadir said shaking his head. Dexter had reached his station, and began earnestly working it.
Barrett grimaced. “It gets worse, sir. We decided to try to contact Bolaris, and found the astronomical data, the shuttles communications hub used, out of sync. So we recalibrated it, and it matched the current stellar configuration in this solar system to the mid twenty-fifth Century.”
Dexter lifted a single eyebrow. “Television didn’t exist in the twenty-fifth Century, Captain. The only logical explanation is a malfunction in the shuttles systems.”
Paul shook his head. “Dex, after discovered all this we thought the same as you, that the shuttle’s damaged from the gravity wave. But everything is functioning properly.”
Nadir turned to look at Dexter. “Mr. Crimpson, can you confirm any of this yet?”
Dexter touched his stations console, and in the lower right corner of the main monitor another image overlay that of the officers in the shuttle covering Barrett’s body. Another animation appeared of a small boy with yellow skin and spiky hair writing on a blackboard the same line repeatedly: ‘No one is interested in my underpants’. Dexter then said, “The computer is saying this animation is called: ‘The Simpson’s’. A television program popular in the late twentieth, and early twenty-first centuries. I can confirm that the communication frequencies used in our time, aren’t present.”
“What of the anomaly with the astronomical data?” Nadir asked.
“With the sensors down, I cannot confirm their findings, sir.”
Nadir worked the communications station for a moment, eventually he sat with a heavy sigh looking like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. The whole story didn’t make sense.
Eventually a concerned looking Paul said, “Ah Colonel, there’s another thing.”
Nadir looked up. “What?”
