by B. C. James
The blackness returned. He tried to scream but nothing came. The sedation had worn off, and he slowly realized where he was. Not aboard the Cayenne, but on the Endurance. He remembered the events that had led him here. He wondered how long he’d been in the tube. Had it been hours? Days? Weeks?
He didn’t have much time for contemplation. The darkness began to fade. A warm glow grew in its stead as if the light of a rising sun was shining on his face. He realized he was seeing again, not with his mind, but with his eyes. He felt his heart start to beat in his chest. The strange feeling sent a jolt of panic through him. He could feel the cold leaving his stiff arms and legs. His fingers wiggled when he commanded them. Was he waking up, or was this another dream?
He felt his chest expand as he took in a deep breath. The chill of his body was being chased away by advancing warmth. He heard the hiss of the cryotube as it opened. After a few moments, his eyelids peeked apart. The room was dark and empty. The only light came from a blindingly bright bulb above him in the tube.
His restraints released automatically. He pushed off and floated out into the room. The lights flickered on as they sensed his movement. His mind still frosty, he looked back at the other tubes and saw his crewmates stirring as they came out of stasis. How long had they been under? There was no way to tell in the windowless room. He had to get back to the Rojo if it was still docked.
He made his way to the lower exit and slipped into the central corridor. His hopes were dashed as he entered. The door to lander one was closed tight. A red light next to it indicated there was nothing on the other side. The Pescado Rojo had detached. He pressed his face to the small porthole, hoping to catch a glimpse of his ship. All he saw was an empty field of stars.
Feeling defeated, he returned to the stasis room. The other crew members were exiting their tubes. He went to check on them. Arnold seemed unperturbed by the ordeal and produced a dumb smile when Sharp asked how he was. He was obviously still heavily sedated. Morales was less lucky. Her skin was fraught with abrasions and bruises from fighting against her restraints. She winced as Sharp grabbed her by the shoulder, brushing over a raw patch of skin. Briggs came over to help. He had a med kit in his hand and started tending to Morales’ wounds.
“You okay?” Sharp asked her.
“Yeah, Cap,” she whispered. “They’re not deep. I’ll be okay.”
He reached down and squeezed her hand before turning to Arnold. “You awake yet, Lieutenant?”
“Sure bud,” he said, his eyes squinting and that stupid smile still plastered on his face.
Sharp shook his head. “Alright, you’re with me. Let’s get to the bridge and figure out how long we’ve been under.” He pointed to Morales and Briggs. “You two, join us when you’re ready.”
***
The bridge was dark when Sharp and Arnold arrived. The blast shutters had been closed since their last visit, however long ago that had been. Sharp glided to the control console and switched on the lights. Arnold sunk down in the seat next to him and stared up at the blocked viewport. “See if you can get those open,” Sharp said, pointing to the shutters.
“Huh… What… Oh… Okay,” Arnold stuttered as he noticed Sharp’s outstretched arm.
Sharp felt lost as he stared at the control panel. “Dammit,” he complained. “It’s like a museum piece.” The multitude of buttons and toggle switches were labeled but were shortened into mysterious abbreviations. His hands hovered over them, hesitant to activate the wrong thing. For all he knew, one of these buttons could activate a self-destruct sequence.
“We should get Franklin up here,” Arnold chuckled from beside him. “I bet he’s old enough to remember this technology.”
Sharp looked over at him silently. Arnold met his gaze. “Oh yeah, sorry,” he said, remembering Franklin was dead.
Sharp returned his attention to the control board. His eyes stopped on a switch marked: BLST-SHTR. He crossed his fingers and flipped it. Electric motors whirred as the metal shield retracted from the viewport. A field of stars greeted their eyes. The empty vastness reflected the feeling in his chest. An empty, hopeless void.
Arnold leaned forward, craning his neck upwards to see above and behind. A smile broke on his lips. “Take a look,” he said, pointing up.
Sharp leaned over the control board, careful not to bump any switches. His heart swelled, and the hole in his chest filled as the ruddy-brown hull of the Pescado Rojo came into view. They hadn’t left yet. There was still hope.
Briggs and Morales entered the bridge. “You two think you can figure out how to fly this bucket?” Sharp asked.
“Uh, maybe,” Morales said looking around at the ancient controls. “Why? We going somewhere?”
“Home,” Sharp replied with a grin as he pointed up through the viewport.
13
Warp
The med pod door slid open, and Cormac sat up. She rubbed her forehead. The last thing she recalled was being dragged off the Endurance. A panic consumed her as she remembered Captain Sharp bound in the cryotube. I have to save him. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and her eyes found Pierce sitting on the bench against the wall.
“Good morning,” he greeted her.
“Is it morning?” she replied, frowning at him.
“I do not really know.” He stood up and moved to the door. “It is time to get to work though.”
“What makes you think I’ll help you after what you’ve done?”
Pierce grinned and looked down at a piece of equipment in his hand. She studied it as he held it up for her to see. “What is it?” she asked.
“This is my insurance,” he said, turning the square box over in his hands. “You will help me because if you do not, Captain Sharp and the rest of your friends will die.”
She glared at him. How had she ever believed this horrible man had any good intentions? “What do you mean? You promised not to hurt anyone else.”
He looked at her with that thin smile she’d grown to despise. “Our agreement still stands, Commander. You help me get to Alpha Centauri, and no one gets hurt. If you do not…” He raised the box for her to see. “This is remotely connected to the cryochambers back on the Endurance. All I have to do is send a simple signal, and your friends will never wake up.”
Hatred welled up inside her. A burning scorn for this man, and contempt at herself for getting her crew into this mess. “So, if I don’t do what you say, you’ll kill all of them?”
“Well, not all at once. One at a time they will drift off into the darkness until you learn to obey.”
“So much for your promise not to hurt anyone else.”
“I think we are past the point of diplomacy, Commander. We can no longer rely on abstract promises. I am simply giving you a tangible incentive to abide by our agreement.”
“You can phrase it any way you want, Pierce, but the fact is you’re a liar and are without honor.”
He raised one eyebrow, staring off into the distance. “Honor must sometimes be discarded as an obstacle to success.”
She chuckled to herself. There was no reasoning with a man so deeply deluded. This idiot was so high on his own perceived greatness that there was no point in carrying on the conversation. He’d just become more entrenched in his own point of view with every word. It would be better to get into a position where she had more control.
“Well, let’s get to it then, shall we?” she said, hopping off the med table. Pierce followed her out of the med bay and to the bridge.
She slumped into the pilot chair, feeling like she didn’t deserve to sit at the command console. The projected image of the Endurance hung on the view screen at the front of the bridge. Captain Sharp’s icy coffin, she thought. She looked down at the control panel, checking the ship’s status. She must’ve been out for a few hours. The docking boom had been retracted, her potential path back to the Endurance cut off. The Pescado Rojo was fully functional and ready to depart. She’d hoped for some complication to use as
an excuse to postpone their leaving, but none existed. She tried to think of some reason to delay.
“What is our status?” Pierce broke through her thoughts.
He stood behind her, the device tucked into a holster on his belt. His thumb traced along its edge as if he was itching to use it.
“Almost ready.” She stood and moved to the pilot chair. “Just have to plot a course. Where are we headed?”
He was silent as she looked back at him, catching his glare. His fingers tapped on the device, emphasizing his control over her. “Right,” she said, turning back to the controls. “Alpha Centauri. How could I forget?”
Looking back up at the main viewer, something caught her eye. Something was different. She examined the image of the Endurance stem to stern. Were the blast shutters open before? She could’ve sworn they’d been closed. She brought up the image on her console, not wishing to draw Pierce’s attention, and zoomed in on the ship. She squinted at the image, hoping to see any sign of life. A hint of movement flashed by the front viewport. She wasn’t sure she’d seen anything on the grainy monitor, but a small feeling of hope was kindled within her.
“How long before we can move out?” Pierce asked.
“We’ll have to put some distance between us and the Endurance before we engage the warp engine. Otherwise, the wake will tear it apart.”
“Do it,” he ordered.
Her reluctant hand moved to the ion thruster controls. The subtle acceleration pushed her down in the pilot seat as the ship moved vertically, away from the Endurance. Her mind searched for an idea, any plan that would delay them. She couldn’t stand the thought of abandoning the rest of her crew out here. She switched the main viewer from the live image of the shrinking Endurance to a graphical third person view. The screen projected a green lined representation of the Rojo moving away from the smaller ship. She kept the live image on her console screen.
As she watched, the image the Endurance tilted. It was moving, she realized with excitement. She quickly changed the main viewer to a projection of their plotted course to Alpha Centauri. The vastly zoomed out image would keep Pierce from seeing the movement of the other ship.
The Endurance lurched to and fro wildly as she watched it on her console. They must be awake and trying to pilot the ship, she thought. A green light illuminated on the main viewer, indicating the Rojo had reached a safe distance.
“Engage the warp engine,” Pierce said, seeing the display.
She hesitated. She had to buy a little more time. If they left now, Sharp wouldn’t have a chance to get back to the ship. He’d be left out here in the black expanse of interstellar space, at the mercy of the void.
Pierce moved up beside her. “Engage the warp engine, Commander,” he said again louder, putting emphasis on her title. He’d pulled the device out of its holster and his hand was hovering over it at the ready.
She sighed and hit the button. The ship shuddered as the singularity generator pulsed to life, sending a stream of energy into the center of the Dyson collector. A buzzing vibration reverberated under their feet as the tiny artificial black hole formed.
“It’ll be a few moments until it reaches full power,” she said as she reached over and reduced the energy to the generator, slowing the formation of the singularity to buy some time. “As soon as the warp field is formed, we’ll be on our way.”
Pierce grinned and slid the device back into his holster.
***
“We can’t let them get away,” Sharp yelled as he looked out the Endurance’s viewport. He was holding onto the backs of the two bridge chairs as Morales and Briggs punched away at the control console. They’d managed to activate the ship’s maneuvering thrusters and, after some violent bucking, had pointed the ship’s nose toward the Pescado Rojo. A blue glow was forming in the center of the round Dyson collector. “They’ve started the warp sequence. If they go to warp, we’ll never be able to catch up with them.”
“I’m working on it, Cap,” Morales said, struggling with the flight stick as the ship lurched back and forth.
“Sir,” Briggs broke in, “if we don’t get inside the rings before the warp field is formed, we’ll be torn apart.”
“That’s why we’re gonna get there before that happens. Right, Morales?” Sharp answered.
“Uh, right.” She didn’t sound as confident as he would like.
Sharp almost lost his grip on the seat backs as Morales worked the thrusters, and the ship jerked forward. They slowly moved toward the Rojo.
“Come on, Ensign, can’t you go any faster?”
She only grunted in reply.
“We’re not gonna make it,” Arnold said from behind them.
Sharp ignored him. The blue glow grew stronger and a yellow haze shimmered on the edges of the two warp rings.
“Morales,” he said, his voice stressing her name.
“I see it. Everyone shut up and hold on,” She replied.
The seat slipped out of Sharp’s hand as Morales fired the main rear thruster, and he slammed into the aft bulkhead. The G-forces held him upside down against the back wall, and from his precarious position he could see the Pescado Rojo growing larger, filling the viewport.
“Easy, Morales,” Sharp called out as he pushed off the bulkhead. “Don’t over shoot her.”
She backed off on the control stick as the yellow haze expanded, flowing out from the rings like a rippling pond.
“Put us just inside the aft ring,” he ordered.
She leaned on the stick, carefully guiding the ship. “It’s gonna be a tight fit.”
“We’ll make it, just slide us in.”
The yellow field nearly encompassed the whole of the Pescado Rojo. Its warm glow covered the viewport as Morales slipped them under its leading edge. Sharp sighed in relief as she positioned them inside the arch of the aft warp ring.
In front of them, the blue light from the Dyson collector burned bright. Sharp shielded his eyes as the singularity collapsed, emitting a blinding flash. The Endurance lurched up toward the ring as the shock wave hit.
“I got it,” Morales yelled as she worked the flight stick, narrowly avoiding a collision with the ring.
The blinding light died away, and Sharp peered out through the translucent yellow field that encapsulated the two ships. The stars compressed around them as they entered warp, both ships carried along in the field, the Endurance piggybacking on the Rojo.
“Well, we made it,” Arnold said indifferently. “Now what?”
“Now we have to get back to the Rojo,” Sharp replied.
“And how exactly are we supposed to do that while we’re at warp? You go out there and the radiation will burn you up.”
“I thought the radiation was absorbed by the Dyson collector,” Morales said.
Briggs turned to her. “Most of it is, but there’s still enough of it bouncing around out there to cook a Gordarian Elephant to a blackened crisp in seconds.”
A bead of sweat rolled down Sharp’s forehead. He placed his hand against the outer bulkhead and quickly pulled it back as the hot metal sent a bolt of pain through his nerves. “I don’t think we have long before we’re cooked to a crisp in here. We’ve got to find a way to drop the Rojo out of warp.”
“How?” Arnold said.
Sharp shrugged his shoulders. “I’m open to suggestions.”
14
Disruption
“Well, anyone have any ideas?” Sharp asked as the interior of the bridge grew warmer.
“I could ram the warp ring,” Morales suggested.
“Any ideas that won’t kill us,” he replied.
Briggs swiveled his chair to face Sharp. “This ship is powered by a nuclear pulse drive.”
“Yeah, what about it?” Arnold interrupted. “You gonna fire a nuke at the Rojo?”
“Go on, Briggs,” Sharp said, glaring at Arnold.
“No, not at the Rojo. The nukes shoot out the back of the ship and are programmed to detonate behind the pus
her plate to propel the ship forward. If I can set one to delay its detonation until it reaches the boundary layer of the warp field, the blast might disrupt the field enough to collapse it and drop us out of warp.”
“Might?” Sharp asked.
“Well, in theory, it could work. Although, the shock wave might destroy both ships in the process.”
“Great, we’ll be dead, but at least we’ll be out of warp,” Sharp joked. “What do you think our chances are?”
Briggs shrugged. “Fifty-fifty.”
Sharp paused for a moment considering their situation. Either be cooked to death from radiation in this ancient tin can, or ram the warp ring and most likely be killed, or take a chance on Briggs’ theory and only possibly be killed. He sighed in resignation. “Alright, get to it, Briggs. I’d say we’ve got about ten minutes before we burn up. If you don’t have us out of warp by then, I’ll have Morales ram the ring.”
“Yes, Sir,” he said, pushing out of the chair and scrambling out the rear door.
Sharp sat down in the vacant seat. “I’m just kidding, Ensign. Please don’t ram anything.”
“I’ll do my best, Cap,” Morales said, half smiling, but not taking her eyes off the viewport. Her hands held steady on the flight stick.
Sharp admired her skill at manually maneuvering the ancient tub of a ship and holding it in place within the narrow gap between the ring and the hull.
Around them, the air grew warmer. All they could do now was wait for Briggs.
***
Briggs’ heart thumped in his chest as he floated into the engineering room. Their fate rested on his shoulders now, and he could feel the weight.
He was glad to see the elevator had been left open, Pierce’s crew must’ve left it unlocked after they’d retrieved the embryo containment unit. That would be one less barrier to slow him down.
