THE RETICULI
DECEPTION
a novel of T-space™
Alastair Mayer
Mabash Books
The Reticuli Deception
Alastair Mayer
Kindle Edition
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 by Alastair Mayer
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed, electronic, or other form without permission. This book is available in print and ebook forms from Amazon and other retailers.
T-Space is a trademark of Alastair Mayer
Cover © 2012 by Mabash Books
Image credit:
future girl © innovari - Fotolia.com
Image used by permission.
A Mabash Books original.
Mabash Books, Centennial, Colorado
Kindle Edition, April 2013
For Col. Jack E. Steele, M.D., 1924-2009.
Physician, pilot, engineer, “father of bionics,” long-time SF fan, and Grandpa to my children.
Contents
Prelude
1: Insight
2: Change of Plans
3: Rico
4: Prep for departure
5: To Earth
6: To Taprobane
7: Rico Arrives
8: Epsilon Indi
9: Rico Takes a Ride
10: Meeting with Marten
11: Meeting in St. Louis
12: Verdigris
13: Rico Has a Plan
14: New Toronto
15: Communication
16: Landing
17: The Plan
18: Cutting Daisies
Interlude I
19: On to the Pyramid
20: Rico Goes Shopping
21: Within the Pyramid
22: Planning a Visit
23: Steel Mesa
24: Hallelujah
25: Meanwhile
26: Abduction
27: Blue Book
Interlude II
28: Evasion
29: Deep Space
30: Rico
31: Nearing Zeta Reticuli
32: Leaving Earth
33: Zeta 1 Reticuli
34: Analysis
35: Exploring
36: Planetfall
37: Trouble
38: More Trouble
Interlude III
39: Carson’s Questions
40: Ketzshanass
41: Escape/Rescue
42: The Kesh
43: Leaving Z
44: Home
Postlude
Glossary
Acknowledgments
Preview: Alpha Centauri: First Landing
About the Author
THE RETICULI
DECEPTION
Prelude
Approaching Earth, circa 100 CE
Kukul dropped the ship out of warp high above the ocean which covered nearly half this world, on a trajectory that would take them over the south polar continent. That should keep them well away from the monitoring stations on the other side of the planet, where three continental masses converged around a large sea. The natives on the northern continents there had already developed a considerable, if still low-tech, civilization, and they were being watched.
The timing of their entry also ensured that they would be hidden from the monitoring base on the large moon; it couldn’t look through the planet. The orbital radiation belts dipped lowest over the ocean and the other large southern continent, that would help mask their entry too.
The ship screamed into the atmosphere over Antarctica, skirting what would later become known as the South Atlantic Anomaly and hugging the western coast of the future South America. If he’d been given correct information on the monitoring satellites’ orbits, the atmospheric entry flare would be lost in the glare of the setting sun.
Their trajectory took them north, following the mountain range.
“Kukul,” Quetz, his passenger, said, “what is that glow ahead?”
Kukul checked the forward scanners and his crest feathers rippled in consternation. He zoomed the image and cut in other scanners, and realized with sudden dread what the towering clouds ahead were.
“It looks like the ash plume from an active volcano.”
“Nobody said anything about volcanoes!”
Kukul banked the deltoid ship and cut in maneuvering thrusters. “We had limited data, geology was a secondary concern. I’ll try to steer clear of the plume.” Unfortunately this ship didn’t have much crossrange.
“Can our hull take the scouring?”
“Perhaps, but we’re still traveling at high speed, I can’t be sure. There would be damage to the external sensors.”
He’d managed to turn his trajectory away from the thickest plume when the glow suddenly brightened and he saw streaks of light rising from the base of the cloud. The volcano had just belched fire and magma. Kukul wondered how high and far the lava bombs could reach. If he cut in main thrusters to climb, the monitors would pick him up for sure. His crest feathers flattened back against his skull with anticipation.
A loud bang and an impact that shook the ship answered his question. High enough to reach them. He banked hard away from the volcano, trying to ignore a vibration which suggested the hull had lost its aerodynamic integrity. The ship dived lower into the thick air, shedding velocity. The volcano was behind them now; they would check out the ship when they reached the landing area. The ground below was all jungle; he’d crossed this planet’s equator shortly before the volcano blew. They were now barely at twice the altitude of the mountains, and the ground quickly gave way to ocean as he passed beyond the southern continent and paralleled the narrow isthmus that joined it to the northern one. Their destination.
A sudden tearing sound, accompanied by a bucking, yawing vibration, told him things were not well with the ship. They had to set down now. But where? The jungle was out of the question. There were some cleared areas—fields cultivated by the natives, if they were that advanced on this continent—but too small for his purpose. If the hull were intact he could attempt a water landing, approaching from offshore and stopping at the beach if he planned it right.
He scanned the board. Damage showed on the port-side leading edge, but above the nominal waterline. He scanned the terrain beneath him. The irregular coastline was behind him and they were heading out to sea again, but to his left, near the horizon, the coast continued in a more-or-less northerly direction. He banked towards it, shedding air-speed to reduce the buffeting of their damaged airframe. There was no choice but to risk a brief radar burst to check the surface. There. To the north an offshore chain of islands showed.
“Stand by,” he told Quetz. “We’re going to ditch south of those islands.”
“Ditch? As in water?” Quetz sounded not at all happy.
Kukul said nothing but his crest feathers flattened back in determination. He dropped lower, lining up for a water landing. The ocean surface ahead looked reasonably smooth.
Too late, Kukul saw the low line of surf at the edge of the calm water. A barrier reef. Perhaps he’d clear it before hitting the sea. He came in low, but left the surf behind him as he approached the surface. He pulled the nose of his ship up to let the trailing edge touch. Gently, gently. . .
The aft edge touched a wave and Kukul lurched forward as the ship suddenly slowed, the nose comin
g down and hitting the water with a smack! Kukul struggled desperately to keep the nose from going under; if he porpoised they would be done for. He had to keep it hydroplaning. Keep it up, up. Yes! The ship was slowing now; they were going to make it.
Bang! The ship shuddered again and pushed upwards as though it had been hammered from beneath. Alarms screamed at him from his console, and Kukul realized with dismay that the hull had cracked. They hadn’t cleared the whole reef after all.
“Get the life raft and whatever else you can grab quickly!” he called to Quetz. “I’ll get the portable analyzers. Maybe we can salvage the mission.” Water, thankfully warm, had begun flooding into the cabin, and they scrambled to pull emergency gear together.
It was time to abandon ship.
1: Insight
Sawyers World, Alpha Centauri A, 2122CE
Built nearly thirty-five years ago, the weather-beaten hangar in a remote corner of Sawyer Spaceport was one of the oldest structures on the planet, the third innermost circling Alpha Centauri A. Dr. Hannibal Carson, Professor of ExoArcheology, paused at a familiar door at one corner of the building. The “Office of Techno Archeology” plaque was gone; the replacement, looking as aged as its predecessor had, read “QD Shipping.”
This time the main hangar doors were open. An S-class starship filled the central bay. Carson recognized it as Jackie Roberts’s Sophie. It had several panels removed and there was a tool cart next to one of the openings. A profusion of cables ran from connectors on the hull to some kind of diagnostic computer sitting on the cart with its lights blinking and graphs displaying on its screens.
He made his way to the back of the hangar and up the metal stairs to the mezzanine, meeting Ducayne at his office door.
“‘QD Shipping’?” Carson said. “Isn’t using your initials a bit of a giveaway?”
“Who said Quentin Ducayne was my real name? Anyway, we tell people it stands for quick ‘n’ dirty.”
“That must discourage customers.”
“That’s the general idea, yes.”
Carson shook his head. Spooks. “So what do we have? I take it Jackie came up with something?”
“I did.” Jackie Roberts appeared from the office adjacent to Ducayne’s.
Jackie looked as good as ever, from her dark-green hair in its characteristic page-boy cut—short enough to not be troublesome in zero-gee—to her Chelsea-style ship boots, although her coveralls didn't compliment the figure Carson remembered. He snapped himself out of it. “I didn’t know you were here,” he said.
“I wanted to be able to keep an eye on Sophie while she’s undergoing repairs. Ducayne offered me quarters but this works.”
“The offer’s still open, Captain Roberts. It would be a lot more comfortable than that office or your ship while people are working on it.”
“Let me guess,” said Carson, turning to Ducayne. “These quarters are down in the same complex as the briefing rooms?” He remembered Jackie’s aversion to enclosed, underground spaces.
“Of course.”
“Then she’s probably happier where she is. Unless,” he turned back to Jackie, “you want something on campus? We’ve usually got dorm rooms available for visitors.”
“No, thanks. I really do prefer to keep an eye on my ship.”
Carson nodded in understanding. “So what do you have?”
Jackie looked over at Ducayne, who said: “We’ll talk in the briefing room.”
Carson sighed and nodded. “Very well.”
Together they went back down the stairs to the hangar floor and across to a small office, which Carson knew served as a secret elevator to the lower levels. As they skirted the Sophie, Carson cast an appraising eye over the work. Much of the outer hull had been removed, and he could see that a warp module had already been removed. On Chara III they had spent days carefully moving that into position to compensate for attack damage. Now it sat on an equipment cradle toward the rear of the hangar.
“Your repair team has been busy,” Carson said to Ducayne.
“It sure beats the duct-tape and wire we used to get back from Chara,” said Jackie. “And not just repair, they’re making a few modifications too.”
Ducayne nodded. “A bit more range, and a few other tweaks. We want you to have more of an edge if you get jumped again. You got lucky with Hopkins and Maynard.”
“Jackie’s flying skills helped with Hopkins.”
“Thanks, Hannibal, but Ducayne’s right. We were lucky.”
While they’d been talking, they’d entered the small office and the elevator had started down.
“Briefing Room Two” Ducayne said as they cleared the security post. The familiar briefing room was already occupied by a lone man. Carson recognized him as one of the two from his original briefing when he’d first met Ducayne.
“Mr. Brown, wasn’t it?” he asked extending a hand, “Or was that Mr. Black?”
The man smiled and accepted the handshake. “To tell you the truth I don’t recall. You can call me—” he cast a quick glance towards Ducayne, who returned the glance but with neither a nod or a shake of his head that Carson could see “—Brown.”
“All right,” said Carson. “I take it you know Captain Jackie Roberts?” he added, not sure if the introduction was needed.
“Yes, Jackie—Captain Roberts—and I have been working on your talisman star maps.”
“Jackie is fine, Malcolm,” she said, “We’re not on my ship.”
Malcolm? Carson wondered if that were also a cover name as he and the others seated themselves at the conference table. “So,” he said, looking at Jackie and Brown, “what have you got?”
Jackie glanced at Ducayne, who nodded. “Locations,” she said, “at least some.” She touched a pad on the table and the main briefing screen lit up. It showed eight images of stone talismans, each in the shape of a rounded square or, more precisely, a supercircle. They all showed signs of wear, and all had line and gemstone decorations similar to that of the Chara talisman, a decoration which had proved to be a star map. And they were all different.
He let out a low whistle. “Eight!”
“That’s right, your little net spider has been effective.”
Carson had found a talisman fragment amidst stone-age ruins which turned out to contain a 15,000 year-old technetium battery. He’d launched a net search to find images of similar-looking artifacts in private or museum collections. That search had called Ducayne’s attention to him in the first place. It had turned up six by the time they returned from Chara.
“It turned up two more,” Jackie continued. “Ducayne managed to pry some loose from their collections. We have three in hand,” she touched a key, highlighting three of the talismans, “with one more on the way.” She highlighted a fourth image.
“Fantastic! What locations?”
“This one,” she singled out an image and filled the screen with it, “doesn’t seem to point anywhere, at least, not so far.”
“It looks different from the others somehow, the pattern feels different.”
“Good call. That’s the one that didn’t seem to have any internal structure. It’s probably a fake.”
“I want to take a close look at it,” Carson said. “If it's old, it could be an indigenous low-tech copy. For that matter, I want to look at all of them.”
“You will,” said Ducayne. “We want you to go over each in detail as we get hold of them. See if you can spot fakes or anything else unusual. We’ll do a more detailed set of scans and take samples of—”
“Not before I examine them! The samples, I mean.”
“No, of course not. Brown here has been giving us good advice on that.”
Brown nodded agreement.
“All right. What about other locations?”
“We have tentative locations for three that we only have images of. We’ll confirm them when we get our hands on them. At least one of those is much further out than we’ve explored. Two of the images aren’t clear enough
to be sure of the gem colors, too much dirt on the artifacts, and our guesses haven’t come up with matches yet.” Jackie flipped up another image, show two talismans. “These two correspond, as best we can tell, to known locations in T-space.”
“Where?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Just tell me, damn it.”
“Okay, this one here,” she gestured, “seems to indicate Delta Pavonis.”
Carson turned to look sharply at her. “That’s where I found that first fragment.” He’d almost missed the talisman fragment, lying in the dirt in an ancient tomb. If it hadn’t been broken, he wouldn’t have detected the weak radiation from the technetium it contained, nor noticed its internal structure. The decay products of the technetium, an element with no naturally occurring isotopes, had let them date it at approximately 15,000 years old. That had been quite a surprise. “We know there were spacefarers there, but there’s no sign of a pyramid, not like what we found on Chara III.”
“But you did find a pyramid, didn’t you Dr. Carson?” Brown’s sudden question surprised him.
“Well, yes, but it was just a burial chamber, almost certainly built by the locals. I suppose we can go back to Delta Pavonis and look again, do a complete surface-scan. Anything could be hidden in that jungle.” It didn’t feel right though. The jungle in that region of Verdigris was recent. Up until a few hundred years ago it had been desert. Stone soft enough to be worked would be unlikely to last fifteen millenia covered in jungle growth; the material that the Chara pyramid had been made of might, but even it had shown slight signs of wear and deterioration. That pyramid had also been big enough to poke up above even the Verdigran jungle.
“Or it might be elsewhere on the planet, even under a glacier,” Brown said. “That planet has gone through several climate shifts in the past ten or twenty thousand years.”
“Yes, that’s probably what wiped out the natives,” Carson agreed. “What about the second talisman? Where does that point? Jackie?”
The Reticuli Deception (Adventures of Hannibal Carson Book 2) Page 1
