“Action? No, no real action,” Scott replied. “Just simulated battles. The settlement rebellions were over long before my time, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Klaas steeled his glare. “My father saw action. He fought with the second rebellion. He doesn’t have much good to say about the Panhelion. Neither do his friends.” His nostrils flared as he spoke. “In fact, they rarely talk about it. Several of my kin died in the battle of Lyot Crater, and many still resent the puny compensation we get from the Panhelion for the resources we send to Earth. When the settlers rebelled, they didn’t expect the aggressive way the Panhelion military reacted.”
Scott rubbed his throat. “At the time, the Panhelion needed all the wealth it could lay its hands on for a fledgling interplanetary space program. The government did what it thought was for the greater good.” Scott’s eyes focused on an imaginary distant horizon. “Attitudes, I gather, still run rather strong among your people. Do they resent the fact that you joined the Panhelion military?”
“I suppose some do. Old hatreds still linger. Defense Command caused most of the destruction to our settlements. Camus captained one of the Panhelion cruisers that crushed the second rebellion. Many of our people say he caused far more destruction than necessary. Since I’m with Exploration Command, my kinsmen more easily accept my service in the military. When the first rebellion broke out, the Voortrekker rebellion, the settlers loyal to the Panhelion fled for their safety back to Earth. Those that sided with the rebellion still harbor bitterness toward the Panloyalists, as we called them in the old days. The Panhelion can be a fearful master.” Klaas’ voice dropped off as he stared down at the floor.
Scott gave a sympathetic nod. “Camus has a reputation as a ruthless commander, and as one who believed the offworld settlers were not equal to those on Earth.”
Klaas snickered. “Yeah, I know he thinks he’s superior. He hates the settlers on Mars, and he has good reason.”
“And that would be?”
“His family was loyal to the Panhelion. The rebels imprisoned his father and killed him when he tried to escape. His mother took Camus and his sister and fled to Earth in fear of their lives.”
Scott wrinkled his brow. “That’s hard to believe. I’ve read his bio. He’s from an original family of Earth.”
“I can tell you he is a third generation descendant from Martian settlers. He covered his tracks pretty well. After his family fled the settlements, he lived with a third cousin on Earth. Eventually he substituted that family’s for his own.”
The two disposed of their crumbs and joined Marie, already on the command deck.
Anton had the watch, and Scott acknowledged him with a nod as the three entered. “Anton, you’re relieved. Go get some rest.”
Anton stifled a yawn and went aft.
“Marie, if your fractal data is complete, I’d like to see the result,” Scott said, eager to learn what the data would show.
Marie took her station and studied the results of the computer analysis. “That’s strange.” She inhaled through clenched teeth.
“What is?” Scott spun round toward her.
Klaas’ head bobbed up from his screen.
“The bend angles of the pinger light don’t make sense.” She put her finger to her cheek “This data simply doesn’t match the physics I know. The responses are large, and the rise times indicate a sharp density difference. My measurements don’t show any significant mass. I’ve never seen anything like it. The reflection and refraction readings, as well as some other parameters, just don’t match the predictions.”
He sighed. “So, what do the computers show?”
Marie shook her head. “Inconclusive. The hard returns of the reflections don’t make sense. Hard returns like that imply a stiff material, like granite, only far harder, but with a slight drift or flow... like a cloud.”
“Harder than granite and flows like a cloud. Good God. You’re describing luminiferous aether.” Scott’s eyes widened with incredulity.
“Only a damn fool would make that claim.” Marie twisted her lips in a barely disguised sneer. “No, it’s not luminiferous aether. Michelson and Morley disproved the aether theory seven centuries ago.”
“So the thing doesn’t match what we believe to be current physics. Now, how about we concentrate on what you do know.” Scott shook his head in frustration and backed off his brusque remarks. “Marie, just do your best. Any suggestions?”
“We need data about how light is transmitted through a small part of the surface—say, around the edge—then I’d have something to go on.”
At a loss for ideas, Scott sat and put his head in his hand. “Ideas, anyone?”
“I can think of one way,” Klaas said with a wry smile. “We go back to the point where we hit the surface—to the wisp, I mean. Then we launch the shuttle and park it just over the edge. The shuttle sensors would detect any variation in light angle from the ship’s laser pulsers. That way I can also inspect the outer hull and engines for damage.”
Scott stood and bowed his head. “What do you think, Marie?”
“Might work. The data on how light penetrates thin sections, and the shallow angle refraction, may hold the clues we need.”
Scott thought for a moment. “All right, Klaas,take us to the wisp and prepare the shuttle.”
Hyades Star Cluster, the Anomaly
-
Pegasus
~~~
“Closing. Distance five hundred meters,” Marie announced.
“Hold when we reach one hundred meters.” Scott tugged at his collar as Marie called out the decreasing distance numbers.
“One hundred meters, Skipper. The wisp is directly ahead.”
At one hundred meters, the time of flight for the pinger pulses to reach the surface and return would be a mere six hundred nanoseconds. A few hundred billionths of a second separated them from annihilation.
He tapped Klaas on the shoulder. “I’ll take the helm. Time for you to go out there and snoop around.”
Klaas hesitated, took a deep breath, and rose out of his pod. His eyes darted back and forth between Scott and the exit portal. With a sigh of resignation, he trudged off to the shuttle bay.
Ten minutes later, his voice called over the comm. “Skipper, shuttle electrical and propulsion systems check okay. Remind Marie to set the forward pinger to constant, and tell her to make sure the beam clears the upper edge of the wisp. I don’t want to be the next light show.”
“The laser’s on continuous and pointed over the wisp,” Marie answered. “I’ve aimed it thirty meters above the surface. If you maintain track, you should clear.”
“Should?” Klaas muttered over the comm.
“Oh ye of little confidence. You’ll be clear. I’d stake my career on it.”
“I hope you value your career as much as I value my life.”
“More so.” A wry smile laced her lips.
“That is not a comforting answer.”
Scott switched the visual to the wide-angle, docking bay camera. The bay opened, and the shuttle slipped away from the larger ship. With the shuttle safely away, he brought up the forward camera on his screen. The image of the little craft grew smaller as it crept from its safe haven and faithfully hugged the laser beam streaming from Pegasus’ bow. The deck remained quiet as the shuttle glided over the precipice of the jut.
When the intercom again burst to life, Scott reacted with a flinch.
“Skipper, I’ve reached the other side of the wisp. I’m breaking lock with the leader beam.” Kaas’ voice broke an octave higher when he announced his move.
“We’ll lose communications when he drops behind the wisp,” Marie warned.
The shuttle, untethered from the guide beam, began a slow descent. Behind the wisp, the craft would be blind to the mother ship and could only rely on its own radar and laser systems to maintain standoff.
Scott wiped his brow a second time. “Can you see the surface well enough to stay clear?”
The tension on deck ticked up and he chewed his lip.
“I think so,” Klaas said. “I see a dim glow, and I’ve got solid radar and laser returns.”
Marie triggered the program. “Pingers are running again.” A swath of pulses shot across the short distance to the dark wall. “And we have a solid data stream from the shuttle telemetry.”
“The visual is fading.” Anton jabbed his finger at the image on the main screen.
The shuttle empennage disappeared in the edge glow, leaving only a portion of the stubby port-side fin visible above the luminous line of the edge.
“Are we still receiving telemetry?” Scott glanced from the screen down to Marie’s instrument panel. Klaas is risking his life for the damn telemetry data.
“I had good telemetry, just lost it.” Marie stepped back from her station, now displaying a red, flashing loss-of-telemetry circle.
“Visual fading. Gone.” Anton reported.
“Marie, update please.” Scott rubbed his neck.
“Nothing to get excited about. I expected this. I just couldn’t say when the thickness of the wisp would block the radio transmissions. When he’s above the edge again, or if he encounters a thin spot, reception should return.”
The deck fell silent again, except for the insistent beeping of the distance counter. Scott continued pacing the confines of the deck in anticipation of the little vessel’s reappearance from behind the ragged peak of the wisp.
For three hours, the crew checked and rechecked their systems.
“Any failures?” he asked for the fourth time.
Marie and Anton shook their heads.
Beads of sweat turned to trickles down his temple. He imagined a spider building its web as the shuttle wove a path back and forth on the far side of the wisp.
Without a word between them, Marie and Anton went about their routines, pausing only to glance at the intercom speaker in expectation of news about Klaas’ progress.
Four hours later, the intercom came alive. “Got it. I’m ready to get out of here,” Klaas hissed in a near breathless voice. “Where the hell is the beam? I’m not getting the damn beam. Is it on?” His voice exploded across the deck.
“Marie, is the beam on?” Scott’s words reflected the sharp edge of Klaas’ voice.
“It’s on. I tell you, yes, it’s on,” Marie shot back. “Are you clear of the surface? You’ve got to be at least ten meters above the beam to receive it.”
“That’s what my radar says,” Klaas said, “but I’m not receiving it.”
“Get away from the surface,” Scott bellowed over his implant. “Increase altitude, and lateral distance.”
“Lock! The servo just kicked in,” Klaas roared.
Marie’s shrill voice sounded, “The beam refracts near the edge. You have to correct for the refraction.”
The shuttle arrowed along the beam as it crossed back to the mother ship. A familiar shudder alerted Pegasus’ captain as the docking bay grapples secured the little craft.
Minutes later, a bedraggled pilot stomped onto the command deck with a scowl on his face and a glare focused on Marie. “What a damn stunt. I nearly bought my own small patch of the anomaly for your dumb experiment.”
“I told you, the beam bends when it passes over the edge of the wisp.”
Klaas ignored her for a moment, then sputtered, “You were responsible for taking that into account when you aimed the beam.” He spun around to face Scott. “She left me blind out there, Skipper. The leader beam was off track.” His eyes burned with rage, the chest and underarm of his flight suit dark with sweat.
“Stow it, Klaas,” Scott said in a gruff voice. “We’ll deal with the leader beam later. What did you learn about the anomaly?”
Reproached, Pegasus’ Second-in-Command glanced down and then back to Scott. “The stuff hangs there in the same spot. It seems to drift a barely perceptible amount. In a few places, I saw light glowing through from the opposite side. Farther out the surface is blacker than a lump of dark matter.”
Marie remained hunched over her display, ignoring the discussion. “I’m transferring the information from the shuttle now. I need a few hours to analyze the result.”
The crew returned from break as Marie poured over numbers and characters on her screen.
Scott wanted his ship away from the deadly aberration, but he needed Marie’s answers to complete the mission.
“Skipper.” Marie expression took on a satisfied look. “I think I know what it is. You’re going to find it hard to believe.”
“Try me.” Scott folded his arms. “But spare me the technical jargon.”
Klaas stood behind him, straining to hear every word.
“The results point to a gradient in time.” She spoke her words with slow exactness. “If we could get through it, we would be in the future. With the shuttle on the other side of the wisp, light pulses from the ship arrived at different times depending on the location of the shuttle.”
His eyes blinked as his head swiveled toward Klaas. The two locked gazes.
“That’s absurd.” Klaas gasped. “You’re making this up, right?”
“All of a sudden you’re the expert here?” Marie snarled.
“Let me understand.” Scott stared at her in disbelief. “You’re telling me we’ve found a pure time shift, and beyond the surface of this anomaly time is in the future?”
“Exactly. We’ve come across an odd space-time shift. That explains why the probe disintegrated on the surface.” Her face went deadpan. “The material of the probe can’t coexist in two different times.”
Scott stood dumbfounded. After a few minutes he spoke. “Are you saying we can’t penetrate it?” The discovery served to deepen his frustration. “Suppose we want to continue, how do we get through?”
“I don’t think we can.” She rotated and stared him in the eyes. “If we try, the ship will be ripped to shreds molecule-by-molecule as one part of the ship moves into a different time while the rest of the ship remains in the present—a dichotomy, if you will. Right now, I’d have to say it’s unlikely we can get through. This thing is tighter than a triple-locked chastity belt.”
“What are the occasional flickers of lights we see on the surface?
Marie casually put a hand on her hip. “They’re photons of light released from some future time, photons that originated on the far side.”
The discussion left him puzzled. He stomped off the deck and headed for the mess alcove to mull over Marie’s explanation.
Composed, Scott returned several minutes later. “I want a large scale survey of the surface to see how much of the anomaly we can map for the science gurus back on Earth. Marie, can you determine the slope of the surface?”
“Sure thing, Skipper. The reflected angle of the light pulse return gives us the slope.”
“All right, pass the slope information to Klaas. I want him to set the navigation systems to track any decrease in the slope. Klaas, link your nav to follow the slope data to the surface as we traverse.”
“No problem, Chief,” Klaas muttered, his displeasure with Marie still tainting his voice.
As the ship resumed forward motion, the crew took to their stations.
Klaas fed Marie’s data in to the nav systems and engaged the engines, and mild acceleration nudged them into their seats.
The slope data streamed into the memory banks. In the preset search pattern, the ship’s computers commanded the heading vectors while sensors fed data on the time gradient’s slope into the calculations.
For the duration, Scott and the crew stood rotating watches, on eight hour shifts with two on duty at all times.
The next day, Scott entered the mess alcove to find Klaas snacking as he studied technical manuals on the ECCO communications equipment. “You want to transfer to ECCO command,” Scott said, “and sit around on Earth while you do nothing but send and receive entangled transmissions?”
“Yeah, that would be a cushy job. No long tours of duty. I
might even find a girl I like.” Klaas closed out the manuals. “Truth is, what I’d really like is to captain a Defense Command warship. Shorter missions, and some combat would be nice. Experience like that gets promotions.”
“We’re at peace now. Defense ships can get pretty boring—constant drills and readiness inspections. I know. I spent most of my career on them.” He harbored doubts about Klaas’ suitability for battle command. The officer didn’t seem the aggressive type.
“Well, you never know when Exploration Command will stumble into a breeding ground of mean, horned-toed aliens out to destroy the Panhelion. We all know it’ll happen someday.” Klaas licked his lips and grinned. “Then Defense Command will see all the action and the promotions.”
“You mean horned-toads, like the little lizards?” Scott snickered. “I don’t think aliens will look like that. If they do, it wouldn’t be a fair fight, us against such little creatures. Besides, fighting aliens, if they exist, is the hard way to get ahead.”
Klaas smiled and leaned back. “Na-ah, I think they’ll have horned toes. If we get to the other side, we might find aliens. Then we’d know what they look like.”
“If.” Scott sighed.
Hyades Star Cluster, the Anomaly
-
Pegasus
~~~
For two weeks, Pegasus cruised through the dark ocean of space surrounding the seemingly endless expanse of the surface, recording the shape and size of the anomaly while they searched for any cleft or variation that would allow passage though the gradient. Visual and infrared sensors scoured the surface for signs of debris.
On more than a few sleepless nights, Scott had asked himself why Admiral Delmar insisted he search for signs of the Themis.
Shroud of Eden (Panhelion Chronicles Book 1) Page 6
