The Tau Ceti Diversion

by Chris McMahon

  “Starburst, this is Free Colonies Station Fourteen. You are to deviate from your present course and enter lunar orbit as instructed. Under no circumstances are you to enter space controlled by the Earth government.”

  “Mara, where are the fighters?”

  “Still coming in. Hold on … they are decelerating!”

  “It’s working!” said Andrai.

  Karic shot Janzen a look of triumph, but the former commander had sunk down on his chair, his eyes unfocused.

  Another message boomed from the speakers. “Starburst. This is your final warning. Attack craft are in position with orders to destroy you if you exit the neutral zone into Earth territory.”

  “Earth territory?” echoed Karic. The Earth he left behind had been a peaceful place. There were minor conflicts, but in most parts of the globe, war was a memory. Neutral zones, territorial borders defended by armed craft; these seemed unwelcome intrusions on the future from mankind’s violent past.

  “A squadron of ten ships is moving out of Earth orbit toward us,” said Mara.

  “Finally.” Karic unclenched his fists, unaware that he had been holding them closed.

  A powerful radio transmission boomed through the cabin. “Starburst, maintain your course. This is Commander Salek of the Solar Federation. We have jurisdiction in this matter.”

  “Solar Federation,” snorted Janzen. “Wishful thinking. They only control Earth now.”

  “The Free Colonies ships are turning,” said Mara. “They are on their way back to their station.”

  Karic sank back into his chair. A wave of tension flowed out of him. Thank God. “Andrai. Restore the magnetic containment.”

  “Roger that.” Andrai grinned as he worked the holographic display.

  “Welcome to Earth, Commander Karic,” came Salek over the speakers. “Your ship appeared on our sensor grid only hours ago. We had no idea you were inbound to the system until we intercepted the Free Colonies transmissions to you. It was almost like you were operating in some sort of stealth mode.”

  Karic and Andrai looked at each other in nervous silence.

  “Have ExploreCorp and Earth received our signals from Tau Ceti?” asked Karic. He waited anxiously. Across the control room, Janzen watched him with taut intensity. The signal’s time-delay stretched out into an eternity.

  “Negative.”

  Karic clenched his jaw. How could this be possible?

  “Nothing was received from Starburst after your last transmission from Epsilon Eridani. Given the intense radiation we are now reading from the Tau Ceti system, we assumed you must have been lost. You are the last, sir.”

  “The last?” Karic’s hands tapped out a restless tattoo on his thighs as he waited.

  “The last of the ten interstellar ships that were sent out to return. Your arrival will cause quite a scene.”

  “Can you tell me where ExploreCorp has its operations now, Commander? We need to dock and debrief.” He felt a tightness in his stomach. He needed to find out if it was he — or Janzen — who would be led away from the airlock in restraints.

  “Negative,” came the reply. “ExploreCorp folded decades ago when the first reports came in on Kestrel.”

  “No!” It was a tortured cry, torn from the throat of Janzen. He surged to his feet. “There must be still something! Let me talk to him.”

  “No.”

  Janzen advanced on Karic, drawn to his full height, his arrogant poise reminiscent of the powerful executive that once controlled Starburst. “The Davises will still have power here, Karic. I will still have power. If you ever want to command a ship again, let me talk to him.”

  Karic had learned the hard way not to give an inch to Janzen. His determination hardened. “Andrai.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  Janzen’s face fell.

  “Take Janzen back into the lander and put him in stasis. Indefinitely.”

  “You can’t do this!” shouted Janzen as Andrai led him away, but the real power, the real fight in him had gone; torn away with the last of his assets.

  Speaking with Salek was frustrating, and each time-delay chaffed at Karic.

  “You have chosen well to return to the seat of Solar civilization, Commander Karic. Earth government will look after you.

  “You did well to bluff the Free Colonies. Some of these provincial governments will try anything to get hold of the data you have. Off-world colonies are still big business.”

  Karic rose slowly from his chair, his heart racing.

  “How many off-world colonies do we have, Salek?” Karic paused and swallowed. “Have we broken the light barrier?”

  There was another pause, then Salek replied, clearly impatient. “We have three colonies, although Kestrel is the only direct Earth-analogue. As for the light barrier: it remains. But the anti-matter drives are up to 0.41C.”

  Andrai reentered the control room. He nodded to Karic and took his station.

  Salek continued, his tone harsh. “You are required to surrender the navigational control of your craft. On behalf of the Federation, I now request you give my computer access to your Shipcom and we will guide you directly to the orbital position of the main Solar Federation station.”

  He hesitated. Earth was their chosen destination, yet after so many years charting their own destiny, to surrender control seemed wrong. “OK, Andrai. Give them access.”

  Andrai methodically set the commands then turned to nod at him.

  Karic opened the channel to Salek once more. “We have given you access. Bring her in gently,” he said, his throat tight with emotion. Soon the adventure would be over. He would be in a foreign century, an engineer once working at the cutting edge of technology, now almost two centuries out of date. What would the future really hold for him now? Would he be able to track down his family’s descendants?

  “We are receiving another transmission from Salek,” said Andrai.

  “Starburst, your Shipcom is not responding. Please release control to us.”

  Puzzled, Karic shot a look at Andrai, who shrugged. “They should be in.”

  Karic reopened the channel. “Salek. You should have control, but we have been experiencing problems with our communication. Please forward the course corrections and we will code them from this end.”

  There was a delay. “Confirmed.”

  “We are receiving the vectors now,” said Andrai.

  “OK. Implement them.” Karic looked at the image of Earth on the screen, his neck tight with tension.

  “Commander, the ship is not responding to my change in course,” said Andrai with a note of panic.

  Karic went to Andrai’s console, his thoughts for the future banished instantly.

  “Computer, why have you not implemented the current course corrections?” said Karic.

  “Cannot access. Memory fault … processor failure.” The Shipcom’s voice grew steadily more inhuman — a sign of rapid deterioration. “Navigation algorithms … not accessible.”

  A cold feeling gripped Karic. The Fountain! It was sabotage. Karic paced the deck. Why let them leave Cru at all only to destroy them now? It did not make sense.

  “Mara, go down to the drive room, see if you can get direct control of navigation.”

  She sprinted out the door.

  Andrai worked frantically. Icons flashed and spun as he manipulated the interface, throwing key diagnostics up onto the main screens.

  “What’s happening, Andrai?”

  “The ship is maintaining its original course toward Earth orbit. All the navigation and control systems appear to be in perfect working order, but they are not responding to any input.”

  Karic reopened a channel to the Earth fighters.

  “Commander Salek, this is Karic. Our main Shipcom is down, and we have lost navigational control of the craft. We are locked into an orbital approach, but we have no way of knowing if the ship will achieve orbit.”

  A long silence ensued. There was no doubt in Karic’s m
ind that Salek was weighing the likely truth of their claims, and considering how he could take external control of their vessel. Karic suspected that Salek was not prepared to destroy the ship, and in the end, the Earth Commander had little choice but to work with them — after all, they were not bluffing.

  Karic had visions of the ship falling into the atmosphere of Earth, the fusion drive set to detonate like a massive hydrogen bomb, heralding a disaster for their homeworld. Could the Fountain have been cruel enough to let them travel to within sight of Earth before destroying them? No. He could have destroyed them at any time. The Fountain had given his word he would return them to Earth and not threaten their lives — and Karic had felt the truth of that. No. He had other plans for them. Plans that included blocking all their transmissions! Of course. He was a fool not to have considered it before. With the wormhole device at his command — utilizing the singularity near Tau Ceti to achieve instantaneous travel through space — the Fountain could have easily sent a ship through space to disrupt their first transmissions, placing another device on the ship before they left orbit to ensure that any subsequent transmissions were neutralized. Stealth mode indeed.

  Salek’s voice blared over the speakers. “Karic, I have command of three heavy-lift low-orbital spacecraft. We will position them on your hull. If you fail to achieve orbital velocity on your final approach, we will push you back away from the planet and keep you there while our engineers board your craft and deactivate your fusion drive.

  “Hold tight, Starburst. We will monitor your progress. Salek out.”

  Karic raised his comband to his mouth. “Mara, any luck with the drive?”

  “Negative, Commander,” replied Mara through the open channel, her voice small and thin as it issued from the tiny speaker. “None of the manual controls are responding. All accessways into the main drive area have been sealed tight — it looks like some sort of weld. We won’t get in there without cutting equipment.”

  Karic froze. Welds? Something was actually on the ship! “Mara. Return to the main control room.” Whatever the Fintil had placed on the ship had not finished its work, he was sure of that. “Computer, what is the status of your memory?” The big screens flickered.

  “The Shipcom’s down,” said Andrai.

  Together, they started a manual computer diagnostic. A visual display of the Shipcom’s main processors, memory storage units, sensors and conduits flashed into existence on the main screens.

  “Damn!” said Karic. “Half the system is gone.”

  Memory was being wiped out at phenomenal rates. As he watched, he could see nodes sliding into blackness on the display. Empty. Most of the software could be restored but the rest … It was disappearing before his eyes.

  All their data from the mission!

  Karic watched, helpless to prevent the destruction, struggling to understand. What could he do? His gaze was fixed on the screen above him as two isolated sections of architecture were disabled with brutal efficiency. Then, gradually, he began to observe a pattern. The targeted areas of memory were all in the same physical location on the ship. The damage was not originating within the system. It was external. It was their saboteur, working with inhuman speed and efficiency.

  “Mara. Where are you?” called Karic, through his comband.

  There was nothing but static. She should have returned to the main control room by now.

  “Maybe she’s in a dead spot,” said Andrai, talking about the many areas of the ship where the radio signals would not penetrate.

  Karic grimaced.

  “There’s a pattern to this,” said Andrai.

  “Yes. Something is moving physically through the ship,” said Karic, pointing at the viewscreen above them. “You can see its location as it moves from section to section.”

  “Yes. If it was a computer virus it would have moved from the Shipcom to the main archiving areas then out to the peripheral processing units, but it’s jumping around everywhere. It went from the Shipcom modules in the main hold directly into the lander computers.”

  “Which aren’t directly connected, but are both in the central hold.”

  Andrai stood, drawing closer to the viewscreen as he traced out the pattern. “From the central hold it proceeded directly to the main fusion drive area, then on—”

  “Mara was in the fusion drive area!” Karic gripped the back of Andrai’s chair. “Where is it now?”

  “It’s moving through the atmospheric processing units.”

  What was it and how could they fight it? He did not dare use anything as dangerous as an XR32 inside Starburst. The ship security detail had high-voltage electrical stunners. With luck, they might be powerful enough to disrupt the electronics of a robotic device — assuming what they faced was anything like their own technology. They had to try something.

  “Andrai, take a stunner and see if you can intercept it. I am going to find Mara and warn her.” If that thing had not already found her.

  They armed themselves with stunners from the small armory on the main deck, then raced into the ship.

  Karic climbed the shaft into the zero-g of the ship’s axis, alert for any danger. He cursed the Fountain. If any harm came to Mara, he swore he would take his revenge on the arrogant Fintil, regardless of the awesome technology at his command.

  He found Mara floating prone and unconscious in the accessway to the fusion drive. Her dark hair was damp with sweat, fringe plastered to her forehead, her face flushed. He cradled her, calling to her, desperately trying to rouse her. Even her uniform was soaked through. Her eyelids flickered open, and she pushed him away.

  “What happened, Mara? Can you remember anything? What attacked you?”

  As her vision cleared, she focused on Karic, and a look of confusion came over her face. “Karic … have we reached the target star?” She looked around her at the accessway, then back at Karic. There was fear in her eyes. “What am I doing here? I don’t remember … anything.”

  Terror gripped Karic as he finally understood the purpose of the Fountain’s device. It had the capacity to wipe out all forms of memory, even human memory. His heart beat like a drum, flooding his body with adrenaline. It was hard to think. To clear his mind.

  “Karic, what’s the matter?”

  “Mara, listen to me carefully. Do you remember the accident, the deaths, the planet Cru, the Imbirri …?”

  Mara concentrated, then cried out in agony. She collapsed into a ball, clasping her head as she bounced around in the zero-g. Karic steadied her. Her body was rigid with pain.

  “The Fintil,” she gasped.

  Sweat broke out on her forehead, then as abruptly as it had began, the pain left her.

  Mara met his gaze. “I remember some things Karic, but the planet … Fuck!” She paled. “I can’t remember anything about the planet, or the star system. I get vague images of the aliens, but nothing more. What’s happened?”

  A look of concentration and determination came over her face and the pain started again. After a few moments, she cried out and sagged against him, weak, but conscious. Karic guided her back through the ship’s axis to the lowest level of the habitat, where the sleeping quarters were. He took Mara to her cabin and secured her in her harness.

  “Rest, Mara. Rest. We will be back on Earth soon.”

  She fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. She must have fought the device with every ounce of her strength. Still, she had lost.

  Karic’s terror turned to fury. Somehow he had to defeat this device. He could not let everything they had achieved — everything they had sacrificed — come to nothing.

  Think. Think!

  He had to ensure that the last, untouched records of Cru, which lay secure in the Commander’s cabin, were not destroyed. But how to deceive this Fintil device?

  Karic turned toward the commander’s cabin, even more wary than he had been before. He raised the comband to his mouth. “Andrai, where are you?” He had sent him against this thing, whatever it was.
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br />   “I am following the Fintil device, tracking it through the damage it is causing, but it’s moving too fast. I can’t catch it.”

  “Break off the pursuit. I want you to meet me in my cabin, but take a route that leads you as far away from that thing as possible. Under no circumstances are you to try to confront or destroy it, understood?”

  “Yes. On my way.”

  Karic walked slowly along the corridor to the commander’s cabin, bouncing in the low-g. If the device had the capacity to destroy specific sections of human memory, it also had the capacity to read and understand it. If it got control of him, it would be able to lift the safe’s deactivation code from his mind, and the priceless data would be gone.

  If he could distract the thing for long enough, Andrai may be able to take the disks and beam the contents directly to the computers of the Solar Federation. Once inside a network of that size, there was no way a single device could track down and destroy all the data.

  Karic entered the cabin, unconsciously scanning the cramped confines with his senses. Andrai entered behind him. The tech’s blond hair was wild, and he was out of breath, but his light gray eyes were clear and focused. Karic drew him further into the room and explained Mara’s condition.

  “It wiped her memories?” Andrai said, astounded.

  Karic nodded gravely. “I think I understand the Fountain’s intent now. He wanted us back on Earth, but with no memory of Cru or the Fintil.” He also wanted Mara and Andrai to be transformed by their contact with Karic. To act with him as harbingers of an unstoppable transformation for humanity. But that would not happen. The Fountain had judged the whole human race based on the power of Karic’s altered mind; but as a human, he was unique. Mara and Andrai, like most of humanity, although responsive to his mental bond, could not develop his abilities through contact. “Once we were back in the Earth system, all records of the location of Cru, the planet itself, the Imbirri and the Fintil were to be destroyed.”

  “Including our own memories,” said Andrai.

  “Yes.”

  Andrai drew a breath. “Is it possible one of the Fintil is concealed on the ship? To be able to wipe out human memory, this thing would have to be partially sentient.”