by Meridian
Keeler released his grip on the side of his command chair. “I think we made it.”
“All Cores, all Sectors reporting in. No adverse effects from transition. 100% operational.” Lear seemed satisfied for once. “Position report, Navigation?”
Lt. Navigator Change directed her attention to the star chart at the forward bridge. “We are 3.9 light days from a G-type, single star system, oblique to the plane of the system, 75 degrees.” Lear was beaming. “The simulations forecast a 90% probability we would transition more than 30
light days from the target. The navigational software functioned spectacularly well. I think commendations are due to the Astrogation Core.”
The hard set of Change’s jaw showed how little she agreed with the credit Lear gave to the navigation software.
“Send tachyon pulse transmission to the Homeworlds,” Keeler ordered. “We have arrived.” Lear turned to him. “Isn’t that a little vague?”
Keeler thought for a moment. “All right, tell them, ‘Having a good time. Wish you were here. P.S.
Hyperspace radiation caused less than one percent of the crew to transform into hideous mutants who feed on the soft pink flesh of the living.’”
“No one has been transformed into a hideous mutation.”
“Like I said, less than one per cent.”
Lear set her jaw and conceded defeat. “Send the original message. I’ll draft a report to follow. Shall we direct our peace and friendship message to the planet?”
Keeler hesitated. To be honest, he would have preferred to wait until he was certain Meridian’s inhabitants were also peaceful and friendly, but he conceded. “Initiate peace and friendship message.” Specialist American activated the message: “People of Meridian colony, this is the Pathfinder Ship Pegasus from the human colonies of Sapphire and Republic. We approach in peace and friendship.” Planetology Lab —Deck 94
For three days, Pegasus maintained a steady course, gradually decelerating to one-quarter light speed.
The photon receivers, electromagnetic energy receptors, neutrino detectors, and other instruments on her lower hull mapped the nearby star system, spotting planets, measuring their orbits and the composition of their atmospheres and surface.
Cultural Anthropology and Hermeneutics labs listened for electromagnetic whispers from the planet’s communication net (if it had one), from which they might extrapolate cultural structures and languages for programming the Lingotron translation modules that would allow the Landing Party to communicate with “the Merids.”
The Medical Labs stood by for data that would help them prepare vaccines to protect the Landing Party from any exotic diseases and allergies native to Meridian, and vice versa.
When the sensors confirmed a warm, wet breathable atmosphere on the fourth planet, four gates opened in Pegasus’s bow, releasing a company of probes, long thin darts with points at the tip and three large fins on the rear. They sped toward Meridian at almost half the speed of light.
Seven decks below Primary Command, Kayliegh Driver, designated spokesman for the geological Survey Core, briefed the Command Staff and Core Chiefs. The review was simulcast throughout the ship.
Other sectors – botany, linguistics, Warfighters, flight core – met in their individual sections.
The Planetology Lab was a large round amphitheater with walkways surrounding a round area in which a ten-meter diameter hologram of the planet below was projected. This permitted the officers to walk around the planet at an equatorial latitude. Meridian appeared as a large green planet tinged with grey-blue clouds. At first glance, it looked a little like Sapphire seen through a bad color filter, but where Sapphire contained a collection of continents separated by oceans, Meridian was dominated by one great Pangea attended by satellite islands of various sizes.
“We’ve mapped 86% of the surface of the fourth planet to a resolution of four kilometers and have identified ten areas of extensive urbanization.” The hologram went into motion and rotated to put the city directly beneath them. Driver gestured, as though to part the clouds with her hand, and the view focused on one large gray area that filled a fan-shaped peninsular area in the northern hemisphere. Nine others were highlighted elsewhere on the planet.
“Each of these cities occupies an area which would indicate a population more than twice as large as the City of Alexander. Each city is roughly the same size, which suggests a planetary population between 600 and 800 million, depending on density.”
Keeler looked down at the city. It lacked detail but basically looked like one mountainous tower surrounded by a mass of urbanization, and felt an uncomfortable urge to smite it with his mighty hand.
“Does that include smaller cities?” Lear asked.
A mildly perplexed expression crossed Kayliegh Driver’s face. “There are no smaller cities.”
“How can that be?” Lear asked. “Is it possible your scans have not detected them?”
“Our current scans would detect any city larger than about 4,000 inhabitants,” Driver explained.
“It doesn’t make sense for a planet to have ten enormous metroplexes and a bunch of little villages with no cities of intermediary size,” said Prime Commander Keeler, skeptically.
“After the collapse, they might have been forced to congregate in the large cities,” Lear suggested.
Tyro Commander Redfire put forth another theory. “Each of these cities might represent a single nation-state, perhaps existing in an environment of conflict and shifting allegiances with the others.”
“It will be interesting to find out,” said Keeler. “Which we will. TyroCommander Lear has recommended, and I have approved, Mission Profile Alpha 2. We will send in an advance party to survey the planet at close range in advance of Pegasus.”
He raised a data pad. “Now, because there is some honor attached to being the first crew to touch down on the first planet we reach. I requested Pegasus’s central braincore to make recommendations, but I determined the most dramatic way to present the results. On the count of three, I’ll release the names to your personal datapads. 1…2…” he paused. “…3.”
The data displayed across the pads.
Command
Executive Tyro Commander Goneril Lear
Pilot
Flight Lt. Matthew Driver
Medical
Med. Tech. Jersey Partridge
Support
Technician 3C Eddie Roebuck
Support
Technician 1C Horatio Halliburton
Security
TacticalTyro Commander Philip Redfire
Security
Warfighter Spec. Anaconda Taurus
“Two command-grade officers on the same mission?” Lear asked dubiously. “I’m not sure I like that.” Keeler grinned evilly. “I think it would be good for you and Tyro Commander Redfire to share this first contact. After all, a time may come when our survival depends on your cooperative interaction.”
“I call plasma gun!” Redfire exclaimed.
Hangar Bay, Dock 21
Matthew Driver oversaw the preparation and loading of Prudence. Sixty days of provisions and emergency survival packs were loaded into the forward cargo bay. In the interior storage lockers, medical supplies, scanners, weapons, and rebreather packs were secured. Technicians checked and then re-checked engine and sensor systems, with Driver standing over them.
“Flt. Lt. Driver,” called a woman’s voice. Driver turned to see Eliza Jane Change standing in blue light and mist from the UV/steam-bath the Aves Xerxes was undergoing behind her.
“Lt. Navigator Change,” he answered. He had gone to some effort to avoid her since the simulation misfire, even taking his breakfast back in his quarters on most days. He was not eager to be “just friends” with yet another woman.
She crossed the deck. “Flt. Lt. Driver, can we talk?”
“We launch in two hours. I really need to …”
“Just a few minutes, … please.”
He stepped out from under t
he wing, ducking beneath the Accipiter mounted at the tip, and crossed to her. “O.K. What?”
She kissed him; not a passionate kiss, a lingering presence of her mouth on his, but it felt like being shot with a stun ray. When she pulled away again, she wiped her lips and let her hands come to rest on his upper arms.
Matthew stood like a stunned woolbeast.
“I had a dream last night,” Eliza began by way of explanation. “You were on the planet, and Pegasus was running away, leaving you behind, and you were in terrible danger.” Driver didn’t know what to say for a moment. The part of his mind that should have been telling him how to proceed still could not believe she had kissed him. Some other part took over and he heard himself saying. “I’m sure it was just a dream.”
“Negative, it was not just an ordinary dream. It was the kind of dream that tells you things.”
“Dreams don’t tell you things. Dreams are just our subconscious talking to our conscious. You must have an anxiety about this mission that gave you a bad dream.” Matthew’s internal something raged at him. Idiot! A beautiful woman just kissed you, and you want to talk about psychology?
Eliza drew back slightly. “Maybe groundlings don’t have those kinds of dreams.”
“Guilders have dreams where you can tell the future?” Driver was aware of certain herbs that produced the illusion of foresight, but Eliza hardly seemed the type to indulge in them. His inner voice gave him a psychic smack upside the head. Forget the dream, she kissed you!
“I didn’t think you cared so much about me,” Matthew said, to his ego’s approval.
“We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Friends?” Arrrgh!
“You’re a friend. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Driver wasn’t sure what this meant. Why did she kiss him like that if they were just friends? Maybe she didn’t know the difference, or maybe she was testing the waters? He was lost without reference points, but she looked like she knew exactly what she was doing.
“Matthew?”
“I’m still surprised you care about me,” he said. “I didn’t think we knew each other that well.”
“Maybe it’s just… in the Guild, we didn’t have the luxury of time to get to know someone. As soon as someone sat down in the seat next to you, you had to know if she could be trusted. I guess when I met you, I realized you were a good pilot, and so I decided to trust you. I trust good pilots.”
“You really think I’m a good pilot?” was all Driver could manage to say. She was beginning to look away from him, toward the Hangar Bay crews who were pretending not to listen to their conversation.
Driver realized she was as uncomfortable as he was and decided to let them both off mercifully.
“I don’t have time to talk about this now,” he said. “As soon as I get back, and finish the flight review, let’s find some more private place to talk.”
“That would be good,” she told him. “In fact, I know just the place.”
“Good,” he said, then remembered to smile. He tried to draw her in toward him but could not decide whether to merely hug or go for the kiss. He became flustered in between and only succeeded in making her lose her balance. Instead of a hug, the effect was more like he had pushed her over and then caught her on the way down.
“I’m sorry, excuse me,” she said, extracting herself. “I’m going to the forward observation deck to watch your launch. Good Luck … and be careful.” She turned and left the dock without turning back.
The problem with women, Matthew decided, was that no matter how many times you practiced what you needed to say to them, you always ended up making it up as you went along. Instinctively, he looked at Prudence. Her command module jutted proudly forward, shaped like the head of a viper. Her white-gold fuselage blended into her silvery-blue wings, weapons pods and cargo bays tucked into her belly, the dome of her gravity engine rising above. At each wingtip, the fierce, straked wedge of an Accipiter. Prudence was a complex and beautiful organism he could understand.
“Excuse me,” somebody called. “You’re the pilot of this rig, am I right? Could you open the hatch for me so I can get settled?”
Driver poked his head out from beneath the ship and was surprised to find himself looking into the face of his rival for Eliza Jane Change, the man who had left the reception with her.
“I know I’m a little early,” said Eddie Roebuck. “But I wanted to make sure I didn’t have to sit next to Halliburton.”
Prudence
One hour, forty-five minutes later, Driver was strapped into his command seat and Eliza Jane Change was far from his mind. His neural interface was in place, and his hands caressed his controls in well-practiced sequence. He barely noticed when Tactical Tyro Commander Redfire took the second seat in the cockpit. “Never mind me, I just want to be close to the scanners and weapons. I won’t interfere with flight operations.”
“Acknowledged,” said Driver. He touched the intercom. “Flight deck to Tyro Commander Lear, advise when passengers are secure.”
“So, how many missiles are we packing?” Redfire asked. Then the readout showed him: fourteen tactical missiles, along with forward and aft phalanx guns and a formidable arsenal of particle cannons.
“Executive Tyro Commander Lear to Flight Deck. All personnel secured for departure.”
“Stand by,” Driver switched communications. “Aves Prudence to Pegasus Flight Operations.”
“Pegasus Flight Operations, go ahead Prudence.”
“Prudence secured for departure. Begin departure sequence.” The docking platform descended under the deck. “Prudence, positioning for launch commenced.
Lowering you to the EMLS level.”
Driver and Redfire watched the flight deck disappear as the Prudence was lowered to the electromagnetic launch system (EMLS) railguns. As the ship descended, a hologram in the passenger compartment activated to remind the passengers of the positions of the emergency escape pods and how to access and release them from the ship in an emergency. When they locked at the railgun level, Prudence rested at the end of a trapezoidal corridor four kilometers long. With loud clangs, magnetic locks secured Prudence to the rails. “Pegasus Flight Operations to Aves Prudence, we show you locked in position and ready for launch.”
Driver looked over his readouts. “Prudence here. Confirm positive lock. Main engines in standby.
Counter-force dampening field in place. Flight Deck to all personnel, prepare for launch.” Driver looked down the rails. He and Prudence had done this one hundred and three times. He all but salivated in anticipation of the acceleration that never failed to knock the wind out of him. “Prudence to Pegasus Flight Operations. We are go.”
Prime Commander Keeler’s voice came through the sound system. “Fear no evil, Prudence.”
“God is near,” Tyro Commander Redfire answered.
“Launching now,” said Driver
There was a brief impression of brightly colored lights flashing by as Prudence fired down the launch rails. Everyone onboard was slammed into their seats. Counter-force measures kicked in to keep the crew from losing consciousness, except for Eddie Roebuck, who was already asleep when the ship launched.
“Prudence Launched. Laying in course to planet Meridian.”
“Acknowledged, Godspeed Prudence.”
“Current velocity is point three-five c. Engaging primary engine now.” Driver fired the gravity engine, and the Prudence surged forward. Pegasus diminished to a small bright star and disappeared.
Pegasus – Main Bridge/Primary Command
Keeler watched from his command as Prudence disappeared.
“Telemetry shows Prudence clear and on course. All onboard systems report normal,” Shayne American reported from her station. Keeler’s reply was interrupted by an insistent chirping from the Comm Section. “Commander, our external communications array has just crashed,” American reported.
Before anyone could respond, the bridge lurched, hard.
“Commander,” helmsman Powerhouse shouted. “We’re changing course Gravity Engines powering up to full. We’re accelerating.”
“On what heading?” Keeler demanded.
“Continuing to turn … 35° off course… 45°…50°”
More alarms began to sound. “Hull stress is increasing,” reported Shayne American from her station.
“Continuing to accelerate,” said the Helmsman. 65° off course … 80° off course…”
“Critical stress on starboard blade,” American called. “Wait, stress decreasing… holding sub-critical.”
“Leveling out,” The helmsman reported after some seconds.
“New heading?” Keeler asked the helmsman.
The helmsman took several long seconds to make sense of the readings. “We have reversed course 180° and are headed out of the system, and accelerating.”
“Can you override?”
“Negative,” the helmsman answered. “Helm controls are not responding. Navigational inputs are being rejected.”
Keeler touched his communication panel. “Engineering, disengage gravity engines.” Shayne American was shaking her head. “Internal Comlinks have gone off-line, too.” Keeler stood and marched to the outer bridge, where he barked a rapid list of serious orders. “You two,” he said, pointing to officers at the various control stations with his walking stick, “go to the aft starboard engine and shut it down. You two take aft port. If you run into anyone en route, enlist their aid.
Do whatever you need to.”
Just then the lights in the bridge went out. There was a long moment of silence, then there was a voice, an androgynous voice that spoke with little inflection.
It said, “Prime Commander William Randolph Keeler, we need to talk.” chapter seven
Prudence
Unaware of any difficulty aboard Pegasus, Prudence maintained a fast and steady course toward Meridian. Four uneventful hours after launch found Tyro Commander Lear leaning over Tech. 1C
Halliburton. “Access the telemetry from the probes. They should be in orbit now.” Halliburton brought up the data. The orbits of four probes were displayed around the planet Meridian; two equatorial, two circumpolar. More details of Meridian’s surface filled in as the probes passed over the planet. “Can we get a ground visual?” Lear asked
