Eternal Frontier (The Eternal Frontier Book 1)

by Anthony J Melchiorri

  A slight laugh escaped Sofia’s lips. “So are we taking this guy up to medical?”

  “Yep. I want to do an autopsy. Test for any contaminants, biological or otherwise. Implants, mini-drones, parasites. Whatever. If you and Coren are right, we’re going to find the explanation, and I want to make sure this isn’t something that’s going to affect our Mechanic buddy on the bridge.”

  They pulled the body bag over one of the Mechanics, and Tag admired the engineering behind the busted orange visor across the alien’s face. Even after a kinetic slug had pierced it, some kind of polymer held the broken polyglass shards in place. He zipped the bag up over the Mechanic’s helmet and sealed the bag to prevent any alien pathogens from leaking out. The ship might well already be contaminated, but he figured he might as well start being more careful now that Sofia and Coren had clued him in as to the dangers of the Drone-Mechs.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ready.”

  Sofia wrapped her hands under the dead pirate’s shoulders, and Tag grabbed his feet. Together they hoisted the body up the ladders and back to the medical bay, where they laid the corpse out on an examination table and wheeled it into the laboratory. They each underwent the decontamination spray. With Sofia’s help, Tag used a chem-catalyst cutter to remove the busted pieces of armor and helmet from the Mechanic’s body until they revealed the lanky, fur-covered body.

  “You familiar with their biology?” Tag asked.

  Sofia brushed the fur, matted in blood, near the Mechanic’s neck. “A little. Coren lent me some data chips on their species. Most of it was on culture and history, but I’ve got some info on their anatomy. Be back soon.” She departed the laboratory, shed her biosafety suit, and ran off into the corridor, leaving Tag alone with the skinny, dead Mechanic. When Sofia returned, she paused outside the laboratory and held up a data chip. “May I?”

  “Be my guest.”

  She placed the data chip over a terminal, and the holoscreen glowed. A quick swipe across the screen transferred all the data to a terminal within the laboratory, and Sofia put her suit back on and joined Tag once again. Numbers and progress bars reported a slew of downloaded data transferred from the chip for a couple of minutes, glowing on the holoscreen. With a gesture, Sofia loaded one file. A holoprojection of a Mechanic appeared. It floated in the air between them and radiated a soft, ethereal blue.

  “Perfect,” Tag said. He manipulated the holoprojection with his gloved hands. Layer by layer, he peeled away different portions of the holoprojection like an artist cutting away clay to reveal the intricate cardiovascular and nervous systems wrapped around the organs of the simulated alien. “It looks vaguely human.”

  “Mmhmm,” Sofia said, entranced by the glowing 3D image.

  “I’m thinking I should take a sample here and here.” Tag pointed to segments of the brain. “If something affected their neurological chemistry, that’d be the best place to start, don’t you think?”

  “You’re the doc,” Sofia said.

  Tag turned away from the holoprojection and examined the dead Mechanic’s skull. Much of the fur along its scalp was covered in dried blood, and its nasal cavity was burst inward from its ill-fated fight with Tag. “Before I get too far into this, is Coren going to be offended by this? I mean, do they pay their dead any respects? I don’t want to have to deal with another raging Mechanic on this ship.”

  “They only respect the living. To them, the universe is a machine. Even living beings are mechanisms based on chemistry and biology. Consciousness and sentience are no more revered than complicated computer programs to them. They’ve got their share of religions, but most share a common belief that the dead belong to the universe. Bodies are simply matter, and there’s no need to waste space or time on them once life has left them. Short answer to your question: You aren’t going to piss Coren off. In fact, everything I’ve read in their medical textbooks points to the fact that studying dead bodies is a worthwhile pursuit to understand the biological mechanisms behind life.”

  “That’s awfully practical—and a little depressing,” Tag said. “But glad to hear it.”

  “Besides,” Sofia said, “I’m positive Coren’s going to want to know what’s turning Mechanics into Drone-Mechs. You find that out, you’ll win a friend for life.”

  “Sounds like you’re still convinced he’s on our side.”

  “Yep. And if we find something in this Drone-Mech of yours, will that be enough to convince you?”

  Tag prepped a large biopsy needle and selected a spot in the Mechanic’s flesh to insert it. “If we find something here, the only way I’ll be convinced is if it isn’t in Coren, too.”

  “You can’t very well do an autopsy on him.”

  “Then we better hope it’s easy to detect.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  The needle went in with little resistance. Tag pulled back on the plunger, and the device captured a small piece of the Mechanic’s brain tissue. He repeated the procedure three more times in various regions. When he finished, he deposited each sample of pink tissue into individual vials.

  “Ready to go,” Tag said.

  Sofia peered into one of the vials. “Wait, that’s it? I thought you were going to have to open up the whole damn skull thing like a melon.”

  “Gods, no,” Tag said. “I like to think medical science is a little more advanced than that. We have imaging equipment if we want a peek inside.” He handed her a small wand-like device. “Handheld MRI. Trace this over the body, and it’ll create a holoprojection image. We can compare this Mechanic’s internals with the model of a healthy Mechanic you have on the data packet.”

  “Okay, I can handle that.” Sofia started scanning the Mechanic with the handheld MRI. “So if there are any weird devices or anything, we should be able to spot them.”

  “Exactly. While you do that, I’ll run mass spec and a few other analyses. I want to see if there’s anything microscopic or nanoscopic in nature that might impart neurological changes.”

  “Whatever you just said, it sounds good,” Sofia said, waving the wand over the Mechanic’s slender chest.

  Tag loaded the samples into an automatic tissue processor. It turned the samples into tiny slurries before the terminal-sized machine began humming and buzzing as it identified various components within the tissues. Results scrolled across the holoscreen. Genetic matter, cellular organelles, enzymes, and other proteins. All constituents strikingly similar to the makeup of a human body, yet with enough variation to demonstrate their alien origins.

  “Finished,” Sofia reported, handing the MRI to Tag.

  He stowed it in a cabinet full of other medical devices and then entered a command on the terminal. A new holoprojection model of the dead Mechanic floated next to the holoprojection Sofia had provided. The two bodies appeared similar in most regards, although several glaring differences were immediately apparent.

  Tag gestured over the holoprojection to examine their specimen. Pockets of pooled blood shimmered in dark blobs—evidence of internal bleeding. Fractures traced long lines throughout the thin bones in the Mechanic’s limbs, and fragments of cartilage and bone were scattered in the flesh along its face. All signs of its struggle with Tag. But as he delved into this MRI-based simulation, he found no obvious devices or other anomalies that might indicate the cause of the Drone-Mech’s violence against its own people and Tag’s crew.

  “I’m not seeing anything,” Sofia said. “At least, nothing that sticks out to me.”

  “Me neither,” Tag confirmed. He had been hoping they would find some obvious answer, some indisputable reason for the Drone-Mechs’ behavior. “But then again, I have no real idea of what I’m looking for.” He checked on the status of the tissue analysis. “We have a while before this is done. Check on the other two?”

  “I could use the walk.”

  They shed their biosafety suits and returned to the bridge. Coren was still hunched over a terminal, exactly where they’d left him,
working at a feverish pace. Alpha stoically and determinedly toiled at her terminal.

  “Status report?” Tag asked.

  Coren jumped and let out a surprised gasp. He composed himself and wiped his fur-covered brow with the back of his hand. “Repair bot AI systems are online.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Hull integrity of the cargo bay is eighty percent of normal,” Alpha said. “Bot work will begin on grav impellers soon.”

  “Can I get you two anything to eat or drink?” Tag asked. He needed something else to occupy himself as he waited for the results of the tissue analysis, or else the anxiety would drive him mad. “It looks like you could use something.” In truth, he wasn’t sure what either of them consumed. He figured Coren must be at least as famished as him, and the biological components of Alpha’s synth-bio system necessitated sustenance much like a normal human organ system, albeit at a lower caloric demand.

  “Water and whatever deplorable protein you have available,” Coren said. “I’ve tasted Sofia’s food, and it’s not particularly suited to my palate. But it’s edible.”

  “And edible is what I strive for,” Sofia chirped.

  “Alpha?”

  “Water, as well. I’m at seventy percent of optimal hydration. Sustenance of at least three hundred calories should suffice for the remainder of our time on this planet.”

  “Sure,” Tag said. “Consider it done.”

  He and Sofia left, headed for the galley.

  “Never been on a ship where the Captain was the medic, steward, and chef,” Sofia said.

  “If you haven’t noticed, we’re a bit short-staffed at the moment. Although I just got three new crew members. One of ’em is a bit annoying. Thinking of assigning her to the galley full time to keep her off my back.” He gave Sofia a playful look.

  “Come on, Skipper. That would be most unkind to Alpha One,” Sofia said, parrying his ribbing. “Besides, she’s not that annoying.”

  The two scoured the preserved food stores to create a fresh meal. The one good thing about being shipwrecked in an exploratory vessel was the sheer amount of goods available to them. The ship was equipped to handle a decade-long journey for a crew of near one hundred. With only three normal lifeforms and a droid with the diet of a sparrow, it would take centuries to go through all their supplies.

  “Looks almost good enough to eat,” Sofia said when they’d finished reconstituting the freeze-dried meat and vegetables.

  “Don’t know what kind of fresh produce you got in the jungle, but you better get used to this stuff.”

  “Didn’t mean to offend, Chef,” Sofia said.

  Tag shook his head as he led them from the galley. It felt strangely soothing to be there with another human. It felt safe. Almost like normal if he pushed all the crowded memories from the past several days from his mind. He was no longer alone. But he vowed not to resign himself to complacency. After all, this was likely the calm before the storm. They might be safe for a while under the snow and ice of Eta-Five, but it wouldn’t last forever.

  He and Sofia delivered the food to Coren and Alpha. The droid offered her thanks, overly polite and gracious. Coren merely nodded, silent and focused.

  Tag’s mind still reeled at the thought of this temporary peace ending, upheaving their safety once again when they made their flight back to space, back to the Montenegro. He returned to the med bay with Sofia. A high-pitched chirp from the tissue-processing machine caught his attention. Instead of wading through the decon chamber once again, he opened the results on a terminal in the med bay. Results and data spewed forth like a crashing waterfall over the holoscreen. Most simply reported the normal biological matter—like proteins and DNA—present in the Mechanic’s tissue.

  Then a single anomaly glared in red. Everything else in the lab faded away as Tag’s eyes focused on the report. He couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it. The implications stabbed through his mind with an almost physical pain. He was taken aback and glanced at the screen again, desperate to find something that contradicted what he had read.

  “Oh, gods,” he muttered.

  “What? What is it?” Sofia asked.

  “Not good.” Tag pulled his hands through his hair.

  No, this momentary peace would be over sooner than he’d thought.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  “What is it, Skipper?” Sofia repeated, leaning over Tag’s shoulder.

  “This doesn’t make sense.” He backed away from the holoscreen, blinking. As if that would change the unexpected results. When he examined the anomaly again, his stomach twisted into a tight, painful knot of anxiety.

  “Tag?” Sofia asked, worry evident in her tone. She grabbed his shoulder. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I ... I’m not sure how to explain this.” He pointed at the chemical structures glowing in the holoscreen. “Silica-alloy complex nanites.”

  “Silica-what?”

  Tag recoiled from the terminal as if it were a raging fire, threatening to burn him. “Nanites.”

  “I heard you, Skipper,” Sofia said, peering at the chemical structures and descriptions next to them. “But you look like you just watched someone die. What does this stuff do? And where’d it come from?”

  “I have no idea.” Tag inhaled sharply, willing himself to control the mixture of confusion and worry clamping his brain, as he tried to reason away the presence of these nanites by considering weak hypotheses that, maybe, just maybe, another alien species could’ve developed them or come across this technology in an enormous coincidence, because surely, surely, his darkest suspicions couldn’t be true.

  That’s got to be it, he thought. Right?

  But the evidence presented by the results proved far too damning to dismiss by coincidence. “These nanites share a ninety-nine percent match with technology developed over three hundred years ago.”

  “Before the SRE?”

  “Before the SRE.”

  “How do you know?”

  “This is human technology.”

  He watched the grim realization sink into Sofia. She shook her head as if she, too, didn’t want to believe what he now suspected to be true.

  “Look.” Tag pointed to some of the text displayed beside the nanite models rotating on the holoscreen. “These types of weaponized nanites were outlawed by the UN and classified as illegal biological warfare. It was supposed to be eradicated.”

  “And what was the nanites’ purpose?”

  “Mind control,” Tag said.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. What, are these things like little parasites or something?”

  “No, nothing so complicated. Here.” He gestured over the holoscreen, and a 3D model of a brain fizzled to life. “The nanites find their way into the bloodstream. It doesn’t matter how. Ingestion. Injection. Passive absorption through flesh. Whatever. They’re made to target neural tissues.” Millions of tiny blue particles flowed into the simulated brain. “And once you get a high enough concentration of them, this happens.” The blue particles started to coalesce into structures, forming miniature, perfectly shaped spiral galaxy clusters. “The nanites turn into—”

  “Antennas,” Sofia said, rotating the holoprojection brain with one hand.

  “More or less. And these ones here are supposed to respond to grav waves. I thought they were only theoretical, but ...” He let the words trail off, still struggling to grasp the enormity of their discovery.

  “So you can send signals from, my gods, light-years away and still control the nanite victims?”

  Tag nodded. “The Drone-Mechs ...”

  “The Drone-Mechs really are being controlled by something. By human technology.”

  “I’m afraid you were right,” Tag said. He reluctantly corrected himself. “You and Coren were right.” All at once a white-hot ball of rage coursed through him. His fingers clenched into a fist, and he slammed the terminal. The holoprojection shimmered, shaken by the impact. “Who would do something like th
is?”

  Sofia stood, still entranced by the holoscreen images of the nanites. “You think the SRE did this?”

  “I don’t want to believe it. I mean, I can’t believe it,” he said. “The SRE, as far as I know, doesn’t have the ability to communicate via grav waves. So how did this happen? How did this technology get into the hands of aliens? And why would they do this to the Mechanics? Why would they have the Mechanics attack us?”

  Sofia leaned against the bulkhead. Her hands were flat against the alloy walls. “Gods, I wish I knew the answers to any of those questions.”

  Tag cradled his head in his hands, wondering why an unknown alien race would do this. Typing the commands, controlling the Mechanics like they were pieces of unintelligent software. “When you spoke to Coren and the others, did they ever mention another race who had contact with humans before?”

  “No,” Sofia said. “None that he knew of. In fact, he said they hadn’t ever even heard of humans until me.”

  “Then who took our nanites? Who is using them out here?”

  “Maybe no one else is. Maybe it’s us.”

  Tag shook his head. “You think we controlled the Mechanics? Grav wave comms are just a theory on Earth. We haven’t even developed them. Besides, I’ve never heard of any current operations in these sectors. And what strategic value would we gain by using a banned weapon like this to enslave a species and use them against ourselves? Against the Argo?”

  “I don’t know.” Sofia slumped onto a stool. “I don’t know.”

  Nothing made sense to Tag, and he could see Sofia suffered from the same cognitive dissonance coursing through him. Had humans unbeknownst to them used such an ignoble technology against an entire race? The mere idea of enslaving a sentient race like this flew in the face of every oath Tag had ever taken in the SRE. He couldn’t believe that his government, his people, had been behind this.

  But the fear, cold as ice, flowing through his vessels wasn’t just for the unanswered questions about conniving governments and interstellar warfare. It had a personal root, too. He’d spent his time doubting every word Coren had spoken, and he’d made his distrust known at every opportunity.