“Oh my God, a UFO!”
He had spoken out loud, and just as he said it the craft started to climb away from him. He pulled his stick back, keeping pace with the UFO, which suddenly started to accelerate. His left hand was resting by the Typhoon’s throttles, so he accelerated his aircraft to keep up with the UFO. It was starting to pull away from him and climb faster. He engaged the afterburners and felt the acceleration push him back in his seat. The UFO suddenly rose vertically; he overshot it and pulled back hard on his control column. He felt the G-suit activate, and it squeezed his legs and lower body. He glanced over his shoulder – the UFO was flying straight up. He pulled back harder and opened the throttles as far as they would go. He kept the radio off; he didn’t want to report this yet, he knew that being new and the youngest pilot in the squadron they would ridicule him especially as nothing showed on any of his instruments. He remembered his wing camera and activated it.
The climb rate of his Typhoon just matched the UFO; the sky was darkening as they rose higher. The aircraft was reaching its maximum operating ceiling when James experienced a strange lurch and felt suddenly nauseous. He blinked – he was no longer in the cockpit of his Typhoon, but was sitting on the floor of a small grey room. He fell back, his helmet striking the floor with a crack as the support of his seat was removed.
The nausea passed, and he sat up. He lifted his visor so he could look round. His oxygen and the control cables had been sliced off cleanly; there were no connectors on them where they would have been connected to the aircraft’s systems.
“What the hell?”
He looked around. There was a small bench against the wall of the plain room and nothing else. It was completely empty and featureless.
James stood. To add to his confusion he found he was light and, overcompensating, he almost fell over. Removing his helmet he walked round the room, holding on to the wall to steady himself. There was a door inset into one of the walls but there was no sign of any release mechanism. He was a prisoner, but how did he get here? He dropped his helmet, and it drifted slowly to the floor. He sat down on the bench to collect his thoughts, his head swimming. I must be on the UFO, but how? They must have some sort of transport system. His mind raced; why am I here? He pulled his gloves from his hands and rested one hand on the wall of the cell. There was a faint vibration but nothing else. The air in the room had a strange metallic smell about it, but otherwise it was breathable. He listened; other than a faint hum there was no sound.
“Hello, anyone there?” he shouted, then sat quiet and listened but there was no response. He sat and waited, feeling apprehensive. What happens now? He thought. He noticed that his hands were shaking, and he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He waited; no one came, so after a while he rose and explored the wall around the door. He could see the join and, exploring with his fingers, he could feel the small crack, but it was too small to get any purchase. He turned and sat back down on the bench.
A few hours passed with nothing happening, but then he noticed a change in the vibration. A little later one part of the wall seemed to dissolve, revealing a small shelf. James stood to investigate – the shelf held a bowl of goo and what looked like a sealed cup of water. The bowl was warm so he assumed it was food. He lifted the bowl and gingerly tasted the contents, which had the consistency and taste of lumpy porridge. He was hungry so he ate the food and carefully drank the water. He had to take care not to spill it in the almost weightless conditions. The water had a metallic taste, but it did quench his growing thirst. He placed the empty bowl and cup on the shelf, and the wall seemed to reappear, but it didn’t slide it just reformed over the hatch. He felt where the hatch had been with the flat of his hand; the wall was solid again as if nothing had been there.
He was suddenly plunged into total darkness. The vibration and humming didn’t change so he assumed it must now be the ship’s crew’s night time. He felt his way over to the bench and sat down, straining his eyes, but the darkness was total. He sat for a while, but nothing happened. He lay down on the bench and went to sleep, dreaming strange dreams of spaceships and weird-looking aliens.
He was woken by the light, but couldn’t pinpoint its source. It seemed as if the whole ceiling were glowing. It took a few moments before he remembered where he was. He sat up and looked round; a toilet had appeared against the far wall. He stood up and used the facilities gratefully. As soon as he had finished he walked back to the bench. The toilet disappeared into the wall the same way the shelf had done the evening before.
After several days he settled into a routine, no one came and there was no change. He started to get concerned as to how long this was going to continue. He had tried to find a way out, but there was nothing.
James was exercising, partly to prevent boredom and to keep himself fit, when he noticed a change in pitch of the low humming. The vibration changed slightly. He stood, and just as he did so there was a lurch. It took him unawares, and he fell against the wall. This is different! He pushed himself up and walked towards the bench, and had just sat down when there was another lurch. The vibration and humming suddenly stopped. There was a final lurch, then silence.
He sat and waited, and after about ten minutes he noticed a small section of the wall next to the edge of what he thought was a door start to glow hot. He heard a sudden crack, and the door slid open silently. James stood, unconsciously holding his breath, not knowing what to expect. What stepped through the door made him gasp with surprise.
Seven: Rescue
Tristain lounged back in her chair, gazing at the stars, her feet up on the ship’s console. She would occasionally interface with the ship’s sensors, but there was nothing. She wriggled her toes then brushed her fingers through her hair. The feeling of boredom made her short-tempered. It was four weeks since they had left the planet where her mother and father had crash-landed many years before. There were many habitable planets, but they were all deserted and showed no sign of having any intelligent life. Cassiopeia had scanned the planets they passed looking for any dormant AIs, but she also found nothing.
Cassiopeia sat quietly; she was linked to the ship’s main computer system enhancing its capability. They were out of range for direct contact with her AI, so she could only get updates, which were relayed via the nearest planetary AI. Even that was slow and delayed, as they were now over five weeks’ flying time away from the nearest active planetary computer.
Tristain snapped at Cassiopeia. “Can’t you sense anything? This is the most probable route they took. Earth must be near here!”
Cassiopeia turned to look at the young woman lounging in the pilot’s chair. She shook her head. “No, Tristain, there is nothing, you must be patient!”
Tristain glared; she had inherited her mother’s patience that was, quite frankly, nonexistent. She sat up and placed her feet onto the cold metal deck.
Cassiopeia suddenly put her hand up. “Tristain, wait – there is something.”
Tristain turned back to the pilot’s console and automatically interfaced with the main computer. Stars in their millions appeared around her; the vista always monetarily took her breath away. Almost at the limit of her vision she saw a small ship flying at an angle across their path. She commanded the computer to change course and intercept the ship. At maximum sub-light speed they would be within main sensor range in two hours.
After checking the ship’s systems, she released her control of the computer. She stood and turned to Cassiopeia.
“At last there is something, but it will not be from Earth. It isn’t probable they will have developed interstellar travel in the space of twenty years is it?”
“No, it’s not possible. We will know more once we get to main sensor range.”
Tristain walked to the galley. She was thirsty. She grabbed a glass from the shelf and turned on the tap, letting the water flow over her fingers until it ran cold. Once she had filled her glass she sat down on one of the galley chairs, watching the water swirl in the
glass. Taking a deep breath she tried to relax, knowing she had to control her emotions. Try to be patient. It was pointless getting irritated at Cassiopeia; she was only a machine after all. Tristain was starting to come to terms with whom she was. Accept the fact she was part Sicceian, her mother’s daughter. I must live with it, and not try to fight it.
The two hours passed slowly. Once they were within main sensor range, Tristain returned to the pilot’s chair and scanned the small ship. It was slightly smaller than her scout ship, and the computer didn’t recognise the configuration.
“Cassiopeia, have you seen a ship like this before?”
“No I have not. Its systems are either quite primitive or well screened. I am unable to gain access to the computer.”
“Can you sense a crew?”
“There is one life form on the ship.” Cassiopeia was silent for a moment.
“Well?”
Cassiopeia continued, “It has the latent capabilities of a Guardian.”
Tristain caught her breath. “What do you mean, latent?”
“The mind has never been used. It is like your father’s would have been had it not been for the failed implant operation.”
“Cassiopeia, is it a human from Earth?” Tristain asked with an edge to her voice.
“Yes, but there is something wrong. I am not certain at this range, but I believe the person is a prisoner on an automated ship.”
“Right, we move closer.” Tristain commanded the ship to close in on the alien vessel, and felt her ship suddenly shudder.
“It’s firing on us!”
There was no damage. The alien’s weapons were not powerful enough to penetrate Tristain’s ship’s hull armour at such extreme range. Tristain thought quickly. She targeted the ship’s engines and fired. The alien ship shuddered, and the engines failed. The ship was now drifting. “Cassiopeia, where are the ship’s weapons? I need to disable them so we can move closer.”
“If you target the ship just forward of engine nacelles that will disable its weapons while causing minimal hull damage.” Her ship shuddered again as the alien fired for a second time. Tristain quickly targeted the alien ship as directed and fired.
The alien ship started to roll from the impact. Tristain moved in closer. The alien had stopped firing. She matched the roll of the disabled ship and locked onto the hull. There was no hatch or airlock that showed up on the scans. They must have some form of transport system, she thought.
Tristain stood and walked back to the airlock. On the way she picked up her battle armour belt and buckled it on, selecting a laser rifle from the weapon rack. With a quick thought, she activated the battle armour and it unfolded around her. She checked the oxygen supply and the suit systems with the head up helmet display. Everything checked out. With a swift telepathic command, the inner airlock door closed. She waited impatiently while the air pressure was lowered. Once the pressure was reduced, she opened the outer lock. The featureless hull of the alien ship was in front of her. She braced her legs against the inner door and fired the laser. Cassiopeia directed her where to cut. Tristain heard the suit coolers start to hum as they cooled and protected her from the heat. The laser made short work of the hull.
With the suit servos assisting her, she kicked in the panel. The pressure between the two ships equalised. She carefully crawled through the opening and jumped down onto the alien ship’s deck. Her suit boots augmented the minimal artificial gravity, and she quickly checked the environment. Everything was green so she commanded the armour to fold back into the belt. She stood for a moment while her eyes adjusted to the dim light. With Cassiopeia relaying instructions, she carefully made her way to where the human was imprisoned.
Tristain felt butterflies in her stomach. This was the first time she would meet a human other than her father. What would it be like? Was it a male or female? What language would it speak? Questions went round and round in her mind as Cassiopeia directed her. She came to the door. There was no release mechanism; however, she could see where the latch was. Without the servo support of her battle armour, the laser was heavy. She aimed it at the latch, selected low power, and fired. The latch area of the door glowed red hot, and after a few moments the latch gave way and the door slid open. With her heart in her mouth Tristain stepped into the room.
Eight: The Cartigians’ Colony
Octavian’s computer had reset the controls of the stasis chamber, overriding the settings the Cartigian engineer had made. He woke with a little disorientation. The door to the chamber opened, and he stepped out into the dark hold. He stood and stretched for a few moments as memories came flooding back. It seemed only a few moments ago that he had stepped into the chamber at the beginning of the flight. The lights flicked on. He was alone. He quickly interrogated the computer and found that his plan had worked perfectly. It would be several days before the others awoke.
He walked to the control room. The ship had been decelerating for years, but it was still travelling faster than most normal sub light ships were capable of travelling. Ships with Star Drives did not need to travel this fast, and it would still be several days before the ship was slow enough to be manoeuvred. There was a red light flashing on one of the consoles. Octavian walked over to see what it was – the computer had a message waiting to be displayed. He keyed the communication switch to play back the stored message. The display screen flickered, and the message started.
A Cartigian official appeared. He looked to be wearing some sort of military uniform but Octavian didn’t recognise the style.
The officer looked momentarily to one side at something off camera, then turned back and started speaking.
“Hello, crew of the explorer vessel. Welcome home. As you are aware, many millennia have passed since you left on your expedition. Things have changed a great deal in that time. We now possess Star Drives, and sub light ships have not been built for many years. Yours is one of the few early ships sent out that has returned. Unfortunately, due to Star Drive technology, your expedition was long ago superseded, so I’m sorry to inform you that any knowledge, information, or specimens you have brought back will not be of any use to us. We do however understand what you have been through and appreciate what you sacrificed for the good of the Cartigian race.
“Your ship has been downloaded with the necessary landing coordinates, and once you land please go to the main terminal, which is clearly marked. You will be debriefed and go through a resettlement programme. Because of the length of time you have been away you will all be entitled to a special payment – you will never have to work again.” The officer smiled a sickly smile and finished by saying, “I hope to see you soon, welcome back.”
Octavian sighed. If they had woken up first they would probably have just left me. He knew well enough the only reason they had kept him alive and brought him along with them was because he had promised to give them Star Drive technology. The Cartigians had got it themselves so he would no longer be needed. He shut off the stored message, leant back in the chair and gazed at the bulkhead. Funny to think that for them the ship was about twenty years old; for everyone outside it was many thousands of years old. Octavian shook his head and shivered. He had left Seonaid only a couple of weeks ago as far as he was concerned, but in reality she would have fallen to dust long ago.
Right, I have to get away somehow, Octavian thought to himself. He knew there would be nowhere he could hide on the ship so there was only one course of action. He accessed the stasis pods’ controls and delayed the revival sequence until after the landing. He hoped that as the ship was old and insignificant it would be ignored while it landed. He could slip away after it touched down and be away before the Cartigian crew had been revived, that was providing they were not met by anyone. From the message, it was probable the crew were expected to make their own way to the control centre. With luck, it would be a busy spaceport and he could slip away unnoticed. There were a lot of ‘ifs’. If the worse came to the worse he would have to fight his way out.
Octavian smiled to himself, another if!
There was another problem; he was taller and slimmer than the heavily built Cartigians. He needed a hooded cloak, or something he could pull over his face to hide his finer features. He went to the cabin of the tallest Cartigian; remembering they had cloaks with them as part of their winter protection. After a cursory search, he found what he was looking for – a thick hooded cloak. He put it on; the shoulders were too wide for him but by pulling the hood down and hunching himself up he thought he could probably pass unnoticed in a crowd.
There was nothing further he could do other than wait. He slept fitfully, dreaming of Seonaid, and woke un-refreshed with a few more hours to go before the ship landed. He checked his battle armour and his lasers. His swords he had found locked in a cabinet in one of the ship’s holds. He adjusted the scabbards so they sat lower on his back and didn’t show when he was wearing the cloak.
The ship’s computer started the landing sequence. Octavian took a deep breath, walked to the airlock and waited. The last half an hour seemed to take an eternity in his mind. He finally felt the ship lurch as it touched down. He cycled the air lock, hid behind the edge of the door seal and glanced out. They were among many ships, and there was hustle and bustle as people came and went. Ships were being unloaded and loaded. Octavian moved quickly, and pulled the hood of the cloak forward so it hid his face from any casual glance. He jumped down from the ship. A group of technicians were standing nearby, and when he appeared one of them turned towards him. Octavian felt his heart start to race.
Guardian Generations Page 6
