“What is it Free Ranger?” Hugh asked. He had heard a gulp in Sigmond’s voice when he stopped in the middle of a thought.
“Look at the name,” Sigmond said in a small voice. “This is Baldwin.”
“Not that Baldwin, is it?”
“This spacesuit is not a utilitarian general purpose one like you and I have on. The name is engraved on the front of the suit, and on the rim of the helmet. This is a personally fitted specialty suit. For Baldwin.”
“You mean we found the original Free Ranger?” Hugh asked. “I thought that was all some myth.”
“I have always heard it told as a true story, but I never knew for sure. Yet here is a body, a long dead body, and it is Baldwin. Trooper, I am not sure what this means, but we need to see if this Captain’s gig has any power. Come with me.”
Sigmond and Hugh moved along by grabbing the backs of the seats which were nearby. By holding onto them they was able to maneuver to the cockpit. It was dim there, but Sigmond pulled himself into the center seat. Hugh took the seat next to him.
“If there was power, that Baldwin would not be dead, would he?” Hugh asked.
“That is my thought as well, but that child wanted us to come here, and I do not think it was just to die like Baldwin did,” Sigmond replied as he used his hands on the cockpit’s controls. After what seemed like a very long time, a display lit up in front of Sigmond. “Got it!”
The glow from the single display shined up on Sigmond’s face through his own bubble helmet. Sweat was dripping down his face, and mixed with some of the dried blood. “The gig’s main power was shut down, but the thrusters still have some fuel. This is the maintenance panel for the thrusters. I will ignite the gas exchangers and see if the lufi-amalgam batteries can be charged from that.”
“Baldwin would have known how to do that, right?” Hugh asked. “So he must have died from something else.”
“The power was shut down. A purposeful act, not a rundown, or loss of power. I agree with you Trooper, I do not think Baldwin there died for lack of the gig having power.”
A moment later the exterior door slammed shut and yellow flashing lights started shining inside the gig. Other displays came on and the inside of the gig was visible. Baldwin’s was the only body.
“Can I unhook from you now?” Hugh asked and held the arm up which had the wire around it.
Sigmond reached over and undid the wire himself.
“I will explore the rest of the inside. Maybe there are more clues as to why the child wanted us to come here and how we can go on.” Hugh floated away and began checking all the cubbies, seats, and other storage compartments while Sigmond worked on the gig’s controls.
“I cannot gain access to the primary or secondary command systems. The tertiary system is working for me. That looks to be used for maintenance and repairs. I did find out what happened, at least a bit anyway. No air,” Sigmond said. “There is no air inside the gig or in any of its reserve tanks. The system says it was a ‘managed ventilation’ of the atmosphere. So he died when his spacesuit’s air recycler could not keep up anymore.”
“He suffocated? What a terrible fate, but why?”
“Trooper, that is a very good question.”
Hugh pulled open a small drawer, but it too was empty. He then thought to check the spacesuit closer now that there was light inside the gig. Unlike the utilitarian spacesuits both Hugh and Sigmond had on, Baldwin’s suit had several pouches built onto the outside of it. There were thigh pouches and one across the small of the back as well as one on the chest. In the left thigh pouch Hugh’s gloved fingers found a small device. He pulled it out.
“I found something in Baldwin’s suit. It is a minicomputer. Many engineers and scientists in the Wilds like these for taking notes and keeping records.”
Hugh floated over to Sigmond and handed it to him. “I would turn it on, but with the spacesuit we could not hear anything anyway, right?”
“Unless I connect it into our radio link. That is easy to do. I will send the sound through the link, and the images, into this display.” Sigmond undid a part of the minicomputer and connected it into an access port on the cockpit.
The display showed a recording made of the inside of the command bridge. Baldwin was standing there, spacesuit on, but bubble helmet strapped to the sidewall. The displays behind him were all functioning and the three dimensional model was in full relief. His voice came through the spacesuits radio link.
“This is Reporting Officer J. Baldwin, Pilot 3rd class. I am making this recording after the last of the on-duty crew has departed. Let me explain, the survivors of the on-duty crew, that is. They are all gone, but…. I am playing the fool! I will begin again.”
The display showed Baldwin stomping about collecting his thoughts. There did not seem to be anyone else on the command bridge.
“I am sending a message back to Earth, not that those left behind there will be of any help, but someone needs to know what has happened. Captain Zaloziny has been murdered and a mutiny is in progress. Our Ship’s Surgeon Feegin is responsible. I know he is, but I cannot prove it. Captain Zaloziny refused to allow Vaccine 731 to be released. He wants more tests to ensure it will actually give immunity to the people and stop the mutated rabies virus. Feegin is an obstinate moron. He dismisses the artificial intelligence systems which are reporting the disease is not being stopped, but only changed from an acute illness which kills to a chronic illness which has unknown long term effects. Feegin knows more than an AI does? Such arrogance. If the thunder does not strike, Feegin will not cross himself. Feegin says Vaccine 731 will protect us all, but there are rumors from others on the medical teams as well as the reports from the AI, so our Captain only wanted more tests. I heard them fighting, last duty shift, and when I reported here today, the crew is gone. No duty shift here at all. No one responds to summoning. I went to the Captain’s quarters and found his body along with several loyal crew, all murdered. The log records are missing and the lattice has be scrubbed of all recent recordings around his quarters. Now that the Captain has been murdered, the needle ship crews are in disarray, and no duty shift personnel have arrived here. None. Have they been assassinated too? The lattice reports show that the mutated rabies infection, which started in the science labs, has spread out to three of the biological habitats. Alone on the command bridge I feel useless. Two duty shifts have passed and nobody has reported here except for me. I am heading to the main engines to see if the Chief Engineer can assist me in establishing order. She at least had responded to my inquiries. I fear Feegin has released Vaccine 731.”
The scene turned off. Then flickered and came back on. The view this time showed that Baldwin was seated in the Captain’s gig with bubble helmet in place. His eyes were wild and there was blood streaked across his face.
Baldwin continued his report. “As my mother said, they hang the thief who stole a little, and honor the person who stole a fortune. I took the Captain’s gig #1 and reached the main engines and docked at hanger bay 908. The situation is worse than I suspected. Feegin did release Vaccine 731, and ordered it to be spread via the life support systems simultaneously in all sections of the Vanguard. I was with Chief Engineer Botkin, may she rest in peace, and we initiated a general quarantine of all biological habitats. That might slow the spread of the infection, but was too late to stop Vaccine 731 from being dispersed. I am the only member of the flight crew to respond, and the Central Planning Office does not answer any hails. I fear they are all dead. TSI-19 has said it has a plan for a replacement crew, and that has been put into operation. Half of Botkin’s engineering team were already sick with the rabies virus when I got here. They were in isolation and dying. They all were dosed with Vaccine 731. The sick people did not recover. That vaccine did not work! There was no healing, but rather they went stark raving homicidally mad. They broke out of the isolation wards and attacked the others in the engineering team. They tore their friends to pieces! It was ghastly. Engineers are not sold
iers. Botkin died trying to lead us to some security automacubes which were in storage. She activated one, and that was the only reason I survived. She deserved a better fate than being slaughtered by those things. I was the only one to make it to the hanger bay and I have launched the Captain’s gig. I had to fight my way out. I am somewhat injured by one of the rapid ones who bit my elbow. Tore right through my uniform, I had to bash in its head to get it to let go. I have never seen such viciousness and so many atrocities. Those sick people are not human anymore. They are soulless monsters. The glowing eyes of those rabid ones will haunt me forever. I got to the gig and donned my spacesuit. I have vented the air from the gig in case that is a vector for this infection. I will tie off somewhere and see if I can make contact with other crew or someone else.”
The display went dark, but then flickered to life. The scene now showed Baldwin, still in the space suit, but he was near the open door and was hooking himself to the tether. He moved in a limping and jerky manner.
“There are people in the biological habitats which I have ordered to be strictly sealed. Governors…. Local constables. My elbow…. I warned them….Unconditional quarantine….Stop Outbreak! Only way…. Used the lattice and what limited command functions I have…. I impersonated the Captain to get the orders out… His Journal was here… Captain Zaloziny always used the same passwords…. He should not have been murdered….. Used it…. The Journal….. to send out Captain level orders. Still no crew responses… Maybe even Feegin the life thief is dead? That would serve him right, for I am sick with the rabies…. My elbow is close, but I cannot bite it…. I am setting the gig on low-power mode to conserve energy until someone can reach me. I have also programmed the… the automacube…no automatic…. return mode… but put it on manual activation…. I do not want this…. Spread must stop…Elbow is close…. I am not sure…. I cannot find the Journal now… left door is open… Did I do that? I am…. Not sure who will ever come to rescue us. The habitats have been sealed on my command. Did I say that? I am burning up….I am not sure if people are… listening. Listening… My elbow is close, but I cannot bite it.”
Baldwin ran right toward the display where the recording was being made.
“My elbow is close, but I cannot bite it!” Baldwin screamed and the display revealed his eyes turning a cloudy orange color behind the bubble helmet.
Hugh and Sigmond just looked at each other for a few long minutes.
“I have that all recorded here in the gig’s systems,” Sigmond said. “I have found an ‘automatic return to bay’ mode which I can activate. It looks like that was what Baldwin was talking about.”
“We cannot take him anywhere,” Hugh said. “He died as a Roe.”
“He died as a hero,” Sigmond countered. “But you are right, if the Outbreak is still sealed in that suit it may still be infectious, even with the immunity they claim we have. It is not worth the risk.”
Sigmond pulled Baldwin’s space suited body over to the door. He opened the door and shoved Baldwin out. “Your destiny is among the stars! You are a pilot for all eternity.”
The spacesuit floated away and was soon lost in the blackness of space.
“Free Ranger?” Hugh asked.
Sigmond shut the door and turned back. “Yes Trooper?”
“Where will this gig take us when you activate the ‘automatic return to bay’ program you spoke about?”
“It looks like it will run the maintenance program and fly right back to the hanger bay connected to the command bridge.” Sigmond strapped himself into the center cockpit chair.
“That was where Baldwin had come from,” Hugh said. “What will we find there?”
“Our fate,” Sigmond replied and pressed his hand on the display and activated the ‘automatic return to bay’ mode. “I have a feeling she is waiting for us there.”
“The child has been right so far,” Hugh responded.
The docking cables on the outside of Captain’s gig #1 all snapped off along the outer skin of the gig. The cables had been holding it in place for over sixty years, but now the gig was free. The thrusters fired and moved the gig out and away from the hull of the Vanguard.
The three displays in the cockpit showed the progress of the gig. Those images did not mean much at all to Hugh, but Sigmond watched them with fascination.
“Will those Jellies we saw interfere in our movement?” Hugh asked. “Can you tell from the readings?”
“If they attack, they attack. There is very little I could do about it. This gig is flying itself, and we are along for the ride. Without the commander codes, or the Captain’s Journal, I could only access the repair and maintenance controls. The ‘automatic return to bay’ Baldwin put in is a bit of genuine genius in engineering. I can get us an outside view as well as some plotting for where we are flying.” Sigmond tapped a few places on the display.
Blast covers slid out of the way and revealed clear permalloy windows which looked out the front of the Captain’s gig.
“You see Trooper, we are passing beyond the constituent joint along the axis of the needle ship. I think that was the same joint where we saw the Jellie activity. Yes, there it is!”
In the distance a Jellie ship was slowly moving along over the hull of the habitat cylinder. Its purplish-blue glow lustered against the permalloy of the ship. The pink beam weapon turned on and debris flew out from where it made impact. The scattering wreckage tumbled aimlessly and glowed hot from the destructive forces, but then got dark as it moved out and cooled. The glowing the Jellie ship put off continued. There was no sound, but Sigmond could easily imagine the shudder that was happening in the decks and corridors which were being exposed to space. He could fathom no reason for the destruction he was observing. The crevasse being created was not regular in direction, width, or configuration.
“Their destruction makes no sense,” Hugh interjected. He said nearly exactly what Sigmond was thinking. “In the Wilds I can at least usually understand animal behavior. Animals do things to eat, mate, or even play. But these Jellie aliens just seem to destroy.”
“I imagine what we are seeing makes sense to them. They have technology. We can assume they have some purpose. As to destruction, our own people have done horrid things to ourselves. But not all Troopers are bad people. The Jellie’s purposes might be far different than we can even imagine. I wonder what their background is? Why are they here? More importantly, how do we defeat them?” Sigmond wondered out loud. “If this gig had some kind of weapon system we could strike at them here and now, but we are unarmed and on automatic return.” Sigmond imagined aiming a rifle at the Jellie ship and squeezing the trigger. He then thought about Larissa and what he had done. That had not turned out as he expected. If he shot at the Jellies would that turn out as he expected? His mind toyed with the possibilities. Unintended consequences would always happen, and some of them could be good, but others could make everything worse.
“There are smaller ones coming this way,” Hugh observed. “Or at least on an intercept course, unless I am looking at it incorrectly.”
“Those sphere have broken loose and are heading for us,” Sigmond answered. “Unlike this gig, I imagine those Jellies in the spheres have weapons they will use against us.”
Three small glowing spheres were moving along the hull toward where the gig’s flight path was taking them. Their trajectory showed that they would intersect with the gig where the needle ship and the very far end of the habitat cylinder were located.
“Let me see if there is anything I can do,” Sigmond pressed his hand on the display and several controls opened, but each time he pressed buttons, there was a negative function sound as a response. “The automatic return to bay will not disengage, so we are along for this ride.”
The men watched as the spheres and the gig headed for the same location. The passing of time seemed slow as they just sat in the spacesuits with not much else to do.
The three purplish-blue spheres were in a wedge formation a
s they hurled past the projections and structures of the hull. After passing the habitat’s end, and being in the large gap between the habitat cylinder and the needle ship, the lead sphere ejected a white ball. It was tiny in the distance, but it approached the gig at a high rate of speed.
“They have fired on us,” Hugh said.
“Proximity alert! Proximity alert! Proximity alert!” a mechanical voice came from the cockpit. Being in their bubble helmeted spacesuits, the men could not hear it. The words also scrolled across the display screens. “Unknown object on collision course.”
“This ship knows it is there,” Hugh said. “Free Ranger, will that help?”
“I certainly hope so. The Captain’s gig is the highest level of shuttle on the Vanguard. Our best technology, aside from the gadgets those people from Dome 17 have used. I have not been able to ascertain all this gig can do, but the legends says it was built for space use and for planetary atmospheric use, including landings. We have only about five seconds to impact.”
The Colony Ship Vanguard: The entire eight book series in one bundle Page 187
