Battle of Hercules

by Richard Tongue

   “From Hercules?” he yelled. “Are you sure?”

   “Double-checked, sir. The message was encrypted using the same coding as the Hercules database.”

   Marshall glanced at Mulenga, “Get me Major Marshall, right now.”

   The prospects of getting any sleep tonight had dropped from slim to none.

  Chapter 15

   Orlova looked around the Major’s office, feeling out of place. Everyone else in the room had known each other for more than a decade; they’d been through hell together. All of them could pick up on each other’s mannerisms, almost read each other’s thoughts. She was the stranger here, the interloper; she wasn’t even wearing the same uniform as they were, still in her Triplanetary black while the rest were garbed in Martian red, the loose jumpsuits of the Space Service.

   Hercules lacked a lot of the luxuries of Alamo – including a briefing room, which to Orlova was a mixed blessing. She suspected that it would lead to shorter meetings, but she missed the chairs, missed having a table where she could rest her hands; she didn’t have any idea what to do with them, letting them hang loosely by their sides. The Major was sitting behind a desk, Captain Diego next to him; Captain Lane was leaning on a wall, with Lieutenant Nelyubov by her side. She caught Lane glancing at her, as if wondering why she was here. The door opened, and Lieutenant Bailey – the other off-watch duty officer - walked in.

   “I think we’re all here now,” the Major began, throwing her a stare. “I see some things never change, Lieutenant.”

   “Sorry, sir,” Bailey replied.

   Waving a datapad in the air, the Major said, “Let’s get the elephant in the room out of the way first. Last night a signal was sent by this ship to the planet below. Orlova, what the hell is going on?”

   Her eyes widened, “What signal?”

   “Last night,” he said, his voice darkening, “Alamo picked up an encrypted signal sent from here. Security is your responsibility; how could this happen?”

   “Sir, if I had known about this message, I would have investigated.”

   Frowning, he said, “What do you mean, if you had known?”

   “I mean that this is the first I’ve heard of it. Could I see the report?”

   He tossed her the datapad, and she began to read it while he turned to Diego, “I thought you’d updated the messaging programs?”

   “I did. Sub-Lieutenant, are you sure you didn’t...miss it?”

   Shaking her head, she replied, “No, sir. I’d say we have problems larger than the message; someone is playing games with the priority messaging system.”

   Bailey said, “I don’t like what that implies. We depend on that system for damage control.”

   “Claudia?” the Major turned to the engineer, who looked across at Orlova.

   “Sub-Lieutenant, the software is working. I tested it myself.”

   “I didn’t get the message, Captain.”

   “Why don’t I…”

   “Enough!” the Major shouted. “Break it up. Orlova, I want to know where that message came from, and I want to know immediately.”

   “I’ll get right on it after the meeting, sir.”

   He shook his head, “I meant now. Dismissed.”

   She stood there for a second, then saluted, replied, “Aye, sir,” and walked out of the room, the door sliding shut behind her, cutting off a remark from Lane. She walked out onto the bridge, and Lieutenant Curry walked over to her.

   “He does that,” she said. “Why do you think I don’t get to play with the other children any more?”

   Glaring back at the closed door, Orlova said, “It’s a lousy way to run a ship.”

   “It’s his way, and it worked for him before,” she replied, before returning to her station.

   Inwardly fuming, she walked over to her console, and started to run a check of her message queue. Right at the top, a message was present informing her of the encrypted message, a time index indicating that it was sent late last night. She sat down at her station in disbelief; she knew that she had not seen the message, and she hadn’t actually slept much – not enough that she would have missed an alarm.

   Pulling a datakey out of her cluttered pocket, she slid it into her station and started running a series of decryption programs, hacking into the messaging database. After a few moments, she started to make progress, and began to smile, only to be interrupted by a tap on the shoulder; she looked over, and saw Major Marshall, his eyes locked on the screen.

   “So you did get it,” he started, but she interrupted.

   “No sir, I didn’t. That message was actually sent just after the meeting started.” Tapping a series of buttons, the time index jumped, “See, sir? Someone rigged it to appear as if it had been sent nine hours earlier than it was.”

   “Why would anyone do that?”

   “To delay investigation of the message transmission, and perhaps throw suspicion off their trail?”

   “My office. Now.”

   He stormed across the bridge, Orlova in his wake; a few moments ago she had wanted to remain for the meeting, now she wanted to get on with her work, but she followed him from the door and stood at attention opposite him.

   “What exactly are you implying?”

   “That someone on this ship with security access was responsible for the message and the problems with the scheduling software.”

   Nodding, he said, “Someone left behind when they evacuated the ship. I was afraid of that.”

   Pausing, Orlova replied, “That isn’t the only possibility, sir.”

   “None of my crew is a traitor, Sub-Lieutenant,” the Major growled. “Take it from me.”

   “With all due respect, Major, getting access to the scheduling software is not exactly easy. You need current command code authorization…”

   “I managed to put a loophole in the security systems, and someone else could have managed the same trick, couldn’t they?”

   “I suppose it’s possible, sir…”

   He nodded. “Then that’s the theory I’m working with. I want you to search the unoccupied areas of the ship. We haven’t got any marines on board at the moment, and I don’t think we can risk pulling any out of the asteroid.”

   “I agree, sir,” Orlova replied, “Why don’t I use Ballard and Mathis? Shift rotation’s due in a few minutes anyway.”

   “Fine, fine. Get it done, Sub-Lieutenant.”

   She saluted, “Yes, sir.”

   “One more thing. Keep your theories to yourself for the moment. They won’t win you many friends on this ship.”

   “Yes, Major.”

   “Dismissed.”

   She walked out of the office, shaking her head, and glanced around the cramped bridge for a moment. Lane was loitering around by the flight engineering station, muttering something to Ballard; the fuel transfer system was showing on the monitors, as well as a collection of worrying amber lights. She wandered over to Curry, tapping her on the shoulder.

   “Problem?”

   “I’ve got to search the ship.”

   Looking sharply up at her, Curry said, “All of it?”

   “All of it. Especially the areas we couldn’t get to during the takeover.”

   “That could take days.”

   “Probably. The Major thinks there is a saboteur on board.”

   “And…”

   “And I need to borrow Ballard and Mathis for the search.”

   Shaking her head, Curry replied, “What the hell, you might as well borrow me as well. The afternoon watch will be coming up in a minute.” She chuckled, “I’ve been stuck pounding five decks for long enough that going for a long walk will do me good.”

   “Thanks; I still don’t know my way around Hercules.”

   Nodding, Curry said, “That’s probably the Major’s secret plan. Give you a good idea of the layout.” The elevator do
or opened, and Nelyubov strode out onto the bridge, a pair of other crewmen behind him.

   “Anything to report, Curry?” he said, striding over to the helm.

   “No, Frank. We’re still docked at the fueling station, and there is still nothing going on.”

   “Then I relieve you, Lieutenant.”

   “It’s all yours,” she replied, walking over to the exit. “Clara, Winston, you’re with us. We’re going for a walk.”

   Lane put her hand on Ballard’s shoulder, “I’m not finished here yet.”

   “Major’s orders,” Orlova replied. “Come on, Corporal.”

   The four of them stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed on the bridge, Lane’s glare seeming to burn through the metal doors. Curry tapped a button and they began to descend; she glanced over to Orlova.

   “Lower cargo bay; engineering spares section.”

   “Why hasn’t that been secured?” Orlova replied, frowning.

   Curry shrugged, saying, “No idea. That’s Lane’s territory.”

   “What are we doing?” Ballard said.

   “Searching the ship, Corporal. Major Marshall believes that we have a saboteur on board, and we need to find him before he can do any more damage.”

   The two of them looked at each other, “Wouldn’t an extra person on board show on the consumables usage reports?” Mathis suggested.

   “Not if this person had managed to get control of the computers. He could easily hide his presence.”

   Ballard nodded, saying, “Besides, that’s never quite as cut and dried as that. A ship this big, there’s always some leakage into space. We’d work it out after a while, but we haven’t got the baseline on ship status at the moment.”

   “I suppose internal sensors could be overridden as well?” Mathis said. “We’re going to be pounding the decks, aren’t we.”

   “Probably, Sergeant,” Orlova said. “If we can find any evidence, any sign that someone is down there, I’ll get the whole crew to tear that section to pieces. It’s really just a matter of narrowing down the possibilities.”

   Ballard nodded, saying, “Sub-Lieutenant, it really isn’t going to take four of us to search the lower cargo section. Why don’t you leave it to the two of us, and you and Curry try somewhere else.”

   Orlova pulled out a datapad, calling up a deckplan. “Fine, Corporal. What about the shuttle maintenance bay?”

   “Still locked down; Captain Marshall’s keeping most of the shuttles at the asteroid in case the espatiers need a quick evac,” Curry said.

   “That’s ours, then.” The doors opened out on a wide, cavernous deck, littered with sparse piles of components, crates and boxes thrown roughly into corners, a fabricator in the corner, its telltales dark. Mathis and Ballard stepped out, and Orlova punched for her next destination, shaking her head.

   “I think those two just want some quiet time,” she said. “I can’t say I blame them, as long as they get the job done.”

   “I think you’re right, Sub-Lieutenant,” Curry replied.

   Shaking her head, Orlova said, “My name’s Maggie. Just using the ranks is going to get old quickly when it’s just the two of us.”

   “Caroline.”

   As the elevator continued on its way, Orlova said, “Why don’t you go to staff meetings any more?”

   “I opted out.” She chuckled. “Back when we were first stranded on Discovery, Captain Lane started to hold ‘escape committee’ meetings. Major Marshall thought it was a good idea. I didn’t have any problem with looking over possibilities, but every week we’d spend a whole day going over the same points again and again. I had a shouting match with him about it, said it was a waste of time, and finally he said I never had to attend another staff meeting.”

   “Ouch.”

   Curry shrugged, “It didn’t matter. Still doesn’t; after all, we’ve only got to go home, then we all get to make the big decision.”

   “Whether or not to stay in.”

   “I’m thirty-two, Maggie, and I’ve spent nine years as a prisoner, stuck in a penal colony or a grounded hulk. I wanted to make the military my career, but...I don’t know. I’d like to take a long bit of leave, think about it properly. Though if the Major gives me a bad evaluation...”

   “I doubt you have much to worry about. We’re starved for officers right now with the mobilization; they’ll let you stay in if you want, I reckon.”

   The door opened, and the two of them stepped out into a darkened room, this one full of carefully stacked supply containers, a few opened on the floor, and a decaying food wrapper perched next to a cup of old coffee by the floor.

   “Exhibit A?” Curry said.

   “More likely one of the mutineers was working here before the evacuation.”

   “Why do I get the feeling you don’t buy the Major’s theory?”

   Orlova glanced over at her, and sighed. “You aren’t going to like it.”

   Chuckling, Curry said, “You think it’s one of us?”

   “It does seem more likely.” Orlova braced herself for an argument, but Curry nodded.

   “You’re quite right.”

   “You agree?”

   She paused, then said, “You have a different perspective; you’re coming in from the outside. From my point of view, it seems impossible that any of these people could act against us, but you certainly have a point. I take it you shared this theory with the Major?”

   “He pretty much exploded.”

   “I’m not surprised.”

   Shaking her head, Orlova replied, “Nor was I, really.”

   Stepping out into the room, she looked around the crates, not really certain what she was looking for. Curry called up an inventory from the ship’s database, quickly scanning it for anything of interest. Something caught her peripheral vision, a blinking light, and she raced over to find an open crate, and an assembled shuttle communications system.

   “Got it.”

   Kneeling by the unit, Curry nodded, “Connected to ship’s power, but with its own antenna array. We’re close enough to the outer hull that it would have no problem getting through it.”

   “See if there are any data logs. Anything we can use.”

   “Like a decryption key?” she said. “I’m on it.”

   Orlova pulled out her communicator to call the bridge, then noticed something else on the wall, a small box with a rapidly blinking green light. Her eyes widened as she realized what it was – what it must be – and she turned to Curry.

   “This place is booby-trapped! Run!”

   The two of them sprinted to the elevator, but it was closed, sealed, and no amount of pounding on the button or the door could open it; Orlova’s communicator was dead, and she tossed it aside in frustration, quickly scanning the room for anything they could use. There was an access route directly down to the shuttle bay, the only other way out, and she dived for it, working the emergency release.

   “Internal communications are out!” Curry shouted, trying to operate the manual override on the elevator doors.

   “This is sealed as well,” Orlova said. Looking over at the communicator on the floor, she raced over, picking up the microphone. During her days as a shuttle pilot, she’d spent years building this equipment; now her skill would be put to the test.

   “Orlova to anyone. Do you read me.”

   “What about the encryption?” Curry asked.

   “Hopefully that isn’t built in.”

   “Alamo to Orlova, Steele here. What’s going on? How are you…”

   “Never mind that. Get in touch with Hercules, have them open all the doors in the shuttle maintenance section. Curry and I are stuck in here with a bomb.”

   “On it. Wait one.”

   “Make it quick.” Orlova looked up at Curry, “Why the hell didn’t Nelyubov hear us?”

   “Good question.”
She walked over to the box, shaking her head as she examined it. “Self-contained unit, nothing I can get at without setting it off. It won’t take much of a charge to breach the hull…”

   “So if the explosion doesn’t kill us, the decompression will,” Orlova finished. “Well planned.”

   The two of them walked over to the lower hatch, looking over it again. Someone had obviously disabled it deliberately; this was no systems error. The lights on the wall started to blink, harder and harder, and Curry looked over at Orlova.

   “You’re handling this very calmly.”

   “Would you rather I panicked?”

   “No.”

   Walking back over to the communicator, Orlova started to poke at the terminal, sliding a data stick into the feed, running a series of search-and-grab algorithms. Curry, still standing at the hatch, frowned, but said nothing as Orlova continued to work. With a rasp, the hatch popped open, and Curry started to climb down.

   “Come on, Maggie,” she said.

   “Still working. Clear the hatch, I think I might be able to get something.”

   “And if you get blown up?”

   “Send someone out in a suit to retrieve the key.”

   Shaking her head, Curry climbed down out of sight, and Orlova continued to monitor the feed. There was definitely something downloading, but she couldn’t guess what it might be – nor did she have time to do anything but adjust the program to go for areas that seemed the most fruitful. Glancing back up at the wall, she saw the light switching to red, and guessing that she didn’t have much time left, snatched at the key and scrambled over to the hatch.

   She’d been right. An explosion tore through the hull, throwing her down to the floor, and a screaming hiss filled the air. A pair of hands grabbed at her, and with her last strength she tumbled through the open hatch, the door slamming shut behind; as she collapsed onto the deck, dazed and bloody, she stared up at the face of Lane, the last thing she saw before losing consciousness.

  Chapter 16

   Marshall sat back, trying not to fidget as the shuttle slowly drifted into the heart of the asteroid; apparently the troops had started calling it Hades, and it seemed an appropriate name. Aside from being half again as big, this asteroid was a carbon copy of the one they had found at Jefferson, the long tunnel reaching in to the massive central chamber at the core, illuminated with spotlights, docking ports for starships, airlock scattered about in an apparently random formation.