Our young ward, Alex, displays highly antisocial behavior, though Helen assures me that his reaction to his predicament and the loss of his parents is not uncommon. She refuses to speculate on the events of yesterday morning.
I, for one, will be watching Alex closely.
Once we are in flight, descending toward earth at three-hundred-and-twenty-four kps, I will transmit the first EPS report to Earth; I am not certain whether to include my thoughts on Alex yet, or wait until I have more information.
Captain’s Journal — August 30, 2090
It has been nine days since Alex’s rescue, and eight since the boy revealed some kind of electropathic kinetic ability with the EEG and the bio-analysis units; since then, he has not shown that the ability remains, or that the events of 22 August had ever occurred. Medical examinations provoke no unusual results, and, as far as the technical readouts are concerned, Alex is perfectly healthy.
Upon questioning, he denies any knowledge that the anomalies with the EEG and bio-analysis unit took place; although his odd behavior from that day persists. He refuses to participate in any discussion or recreation with the science team or command crew, and only comes out of his makeshift compartment in the medical bay for meal times.
Both Helen and I agreed not to include our observations in our report, and to maintain a clandestine vigilance over young Alex, watching should he repeat his feats. Even when alone, he does not experiment with his abilities; all medical bay monitors show steady, normal outputs. There have been no glitches in any other electronic equipment on board the ship.
Captain’s Journal — September 14, 2090
Although the past two weeks have been spent analyzing the TAHU and its contents, we have found no evidence that proves one way or another what exactly transpired in the asteroid belt.
What caused Macklin’s Rock to achieve light travel? Why did it cease its flight when it entered the orbital field of Pluto and Charon. Obviously, the termination of the rock’s journey has something to do with the Dis Pater artifact.
But what? It remains a mystery.
We received another EPS from NASA informing us that they have created a joint-venture partnership between USA, Inc. and Canada, Corp. to study Element X, Dis Pater, and the possibility of repeating light-speed travel.
Quantum Resources, Inc. has confirmed the directorship to the former vice-president of the Space Mining Division of Canada Corp’s CSE, the reputed Michael Sanderson, whom I have never met.
With him at the helm, the joint company has aggressively collected, collated, and documented all aspects of the events concerning their charter. All reports we send to NASA (the EPS informed us) will be copied and forwarded to Quantum Resources’ headquarters in Toronto, Canada.
We have instructions, upon arrival at Luna Station, to hand over the TAHU, all materials found within the unit, and a full report on all our finds to Quantum Resources, Inc. officials who will meet us at the station. There will also be a representative there who will take charge of young Alex and escort him back to Canada Corp.
So far, Alex has shown no inclination to repeat his remarkable feats of electropathic kinetics, nor has he acknowledged that he ever has, or still retains, that ability. I have decided not to include any observation in our reports to NASA and Quantum Resources, Inc. yet.
Once we have returned to NASA Mission Control, I will hand over this journal to Director William Tuttle, and rely on his discretion and decision whether to make issue of Alex, or report my observations to Quantum Resources, Inc. There is no malice in my decision; I merely do not wish upon Alex any more scientific and psychological scrutiny than necessary. Besides, I am not sure if my observations fall under Quantum Resources’ charter.
Captain’s Journal — October 29, 2090
In the medical bay, as at every science station on board the Orcus 1, there are cameras installed to document all experiments for future study. By no means were these cameras designed for security purposes, so it was with some trepidation that I programmed the computer to turn the cameras in the medical bay on, and leave them to record the room overnight.
This move was prompted by a revelation brought to me by First Mate Helen Buchanan earlier yesterday. Catching me alone for a few moments, she indicated her concerns.
“I don’t think Alex has slept a wink since coming on board the ship,” she said.
“What?”
“Do you remember him saying that he didn’t sleep that first night?”
“Yes.”
“I thought it was just nerves, a mild case of insomnia. What with all he’d been through, it’s not that unremarkable. After a few days when he didn’t complain about it, and since he looked rested enough, it never crossed my mind again.”
“And what leads you to believe he’s been awake for, what, two months?”
Helen mumbled. “It’s not like me, but I left the bioanalysis unit on last night in the medical bay. When I went in this morning, it had stored a twelve-hour record of the only living being inside the room, Alex, in its memory banks. When Alex stepped out for breakfast, I accessed the data, and it proves conclusively that, although he remained inactive for a few hours, he never achieved Alpha sleep, let alone REM sleep. After the few hours, there was an absence of readings, indicating, perhaps, that he had left the room. Shortly before five o’clock this morning, he returned to the room and waited until I arrived.
“I was curious what he’d been up to all night, and so I did a quick investigation.”
My mind racing in twelve different directions, wondering what all this meant, I prompted her to continue: “What did you find out?”
Helen bowed her head a moment before continuing. “He accessed our main computer data banks. Although he managed to hide the identity of any data files he used or stored, he may not have known that every time a file or document is opened, the file usage meter is tripped in the log casement. During the past two months, Alex has been accessing the main computer every night. I know it’s been him, since I discreetly questioned the science team, and no one has any knowledge of using the machines after hours except on a few rare occasions.”
“Thank you, Helen. Don’t approach Alex. He’ll probably deny it. Let me handle this.”
Her relief was palpable. “Just thought you should know. I’ll be off to perform my routine sensor cache interactions.”
Captain’s Journal — October 30, 2090
Helen was correct. Alex does not sleep.
When I replayed the camera recording late this morning, I was shocked to see that at around 20:00 hrs, when everyone had finished their evening meal and sought refuge either in their own quarters or in the recreation cubicle, Alex, as was his custom, repaired to the medical bay.
To my great shock, he lay down on the cot and stared directly at the camera, situated in the corner of the small bay.
For fifteen minutes, I watched as he stared right at me. I had to remember this was just a recording.
I fast-forwarded, but the image on screen did not vary.
Hours went by, right up until 06:00 this morning, Alex did not move from his spot on the cot, nor did his gaze waver from the camera.
At precisely 06:00, when the ship’s chime indicated it was time to rise and that breakfast was being prepared by the AI in the dining facility, Alex stood up from his cot, took a step or two toward the camera, and spoke.
“Have a good morning, Captain,” he said to the camera, and left the room.
I recall that, over breakfast, Alex had been smiling at me furtively, although at the time I had paid no heed. He knew ahead of time that I was going to access the camera recordings.
There is something not right with young Alex Manez.
I don’t think he was this way before the Macklin’s Rock incident. He has changed in some fundamental way that I cannot put my finger on. Although he has not shown malice toward the crew, the ship, or me, I am starting to cultivate a fear of the young boy.
Captain’s Journal — Dec
ember 25, 2090
It is Christmas Day, and Helen and I took turns at the helm so we could enjoy the onboard festivities. The entire journey has been long, and we can all imagine ourselves in the comfort of our own homes, for the first time in more than a year. Especially now that we’ve begun our aggressive braking maneuvers, since we have passed inside the orbit of Jupiter and are fast approaching the asteroid belt.
It is unnerving to think that the outward trip took Alex and his asteroid approximately five hours; it has taken us four months to cover two-thirds of the distance. This boggles the imagination. To think that travel at light speed could be within our grasp! A trip to Centauri System would take a little over four years, instead of five thousand at present technological levels. I wonder what this advancement will mean in terms of the socio-economic impact on our fellow humans.
Every hour, we apply a retrorocket boost, dropping our velocity by a kilometer per second. At current speeds of over three hundred kps, the Orcus 1 would simply shoot past Luna in the blink of an eye. Over the next two weeks, we will have decreased our velocity to less than a hundred kps.
It bothers me that Alex has not participated even in our Christmas celebration. He has not overcome his antisocial tendencies, and has kept himself in the medical bay during waking hours. At night, he continues to access our main computer files.
Shortly after discovering his nocturnal forays, I enlisted the help of Dale Powers, a whiz at all things technical, and developed a watchdog program to list by name all files accessed on Orcus 1. I have determined that Alex has never accessed the same information file twice. At this time, he has read close to eighty-nine percent of the information stored on board Orcus 1, including the Science Team’s data storage arrays. By the time we land on Luna, he will have accessed every single file contained in the data banks aboard the ship.
I estimate that if he has retained even a fraction of what he has read, then he will already know more about outer space and science than any three members of the Science Team.
I asked him what he was looking for. Expecting him to act shocked that we knew he was reading our files, it was my turn to be surprised when he replied. “It’s pretty boring here otherwise.”
“You’ve accessed technical readouts, schematics, hard science files, and encrypted files. Surely, you don’t understand them! You’re only ten-years old!”
For the first time in any of our discussions, he was forthright: “At first, it was difficult to understand them, yes. But after awhile, I figured it out.”
“Figured it out! More than half of that information I couldn’t solve with both hands, a flashlight, and a map. Most people take one look at some of NASA’s basic manuals and develop a permanent headache. I had to take calculitical telemetronics twice before I could understand just the fundamentals.”
“I know; I read your personnel files as well.”
“Oh.” For a time, I was too stunned to form a coherent response. “Don’t tell me you can remember all that scientific and technical jargon.”
He smiled, proud. “Every word.” Then he proved it, by quoting word for word the calculitical telemetronic manual of the Orcus 1. I was flabbergasted, but I had to know.
“And what are you going to do with all this information?”
His reply was as cryptic as I could imagine. I pressed him later, but he would not elucidate for me.
What he had said was, “I have to find out what they are saying.”
“What who are saying?”
He turned to me and said, “The planets.”
23
NASA Orcus 1 :
Sol System :
Flight Path Pluto-Luna :
EPS Security Monitor : (Command Bridge)
January 10, 2091
3:11:27 PM EST to 3:17:13 PM EST
3:11:27
The EPS view shows the command bridge of Orcus 1.
3:11:27
Present are Captain Justine Turner monitoring the command chair, First Mate Helen Buchanan at helm, and Dale Powers (Astrogation) at navigation.
3:11:27
Activity is minimal.
3:11:35
Log indicates routine implementation of breaking procedure in anticipation of attaining a solar orbit ahead of Earth’s orbit at 58,154 kph.
3:11:58
Proximity klaxon sounds.
3:11:59
Activity increases.
3:12:02
Captain Turner: What the hell is that? Give me a visual right now!
3:12:04
Dale Powers initiates long-range magnification sensor optics from navigation.
3:12:04
Trajectory computations appear on helm computer casement.
3:12:13
Dale Powers: I can’t get a fix. Working on it.
3:12:15
Helen Buchanan: It’s approaching at 102% present speed; impact in ten minutes, twelve seconds, mark!
3:12:19
Captain Turner: Don’t tell me we’ve got another frigging runaway asteroid!
3:12:20
George Eastmain and Sakami Chin enter.
3:12:21
Alex Manez stands in portal to command bridge, watches.
3:12:23
Sakami Chin: What the hell is going on?
3:12:25
Helen Buchanan: Negative on that, Captain! It’s not an asteroid. Magnetic Doppler shift indicates it’s a ship. Sensors also read exhaust emissions.
3:12:27
George Eastmain: What did you say? A ship?
3:12:32
Dale Powers: Affirmative on that. We’ve got a visual; it’s not great at this distance, but you can tell it’s an artificial coming at us.
3:12:35
George Eastmain and Sakami Chin hurry to their stations.
3:12:58
Helen Buchanan: They’re not responding to comm. I’ve initiated SOS and warning transmissions; they’re not responding to either of those!
3:13:30
Captain Turner: Dale, can you verify its trajectory? Is it coming at us on purpose, or is this just a freak coincidence?
3:13:48
Navigation computer runs test simulations with variations entered by Dale Powers.
3:13:49
Helen Buchanan: I’ve confirmed the computer’s emergency instruction set to send live EPS to Earth on continuous feed.
3:13:58
Dale Powers: Confirmation on trajectory. They’re definitely coming at us on a collision course.
3:14:01
Captain Turner: Shit! (pause) Helm! I know this ship is not designed for evasive maneuvers, but I highly recommend anything you might suggest. Get us out of this, Helen! Dale, can you get anything on visual that could help? Identify the bugger!
3:14:12
Johan Belcher, Ekwan Nipiwin and Henrietta Maria arrive and, seeing the approaching ship on main monitor casement, quickly take their stations. Captain Turner sees Alex enter, motions for him to stay where he is.
3:15:01
Dale Powers: Negative markings, Captain. The shape of it is unfamiliar. It’s not NASA or CSE.
3:15:05
Johan Belcher: ESA doesn’t have anything like that either.
3:15:08
Ekwan Nipiwin: It’s not Japanese. It looks private.
3:15:10
Captain Turner: What? Are you trying to tell me—?
3:15:12
Ekwan Nipiwin: Pirates did not die out in the Caribbean; they merely evolved. I say we are being attacked by pirates. And if you consider the information we have on board this ship, it’s no wonder why.
3:15:34
Alex Manez leaves portal of command bridge unnoticed.
3:15:35
Captain Turner: (shakes her head) How did they know! No one on this ship leaked any information!
3:15:40
Dale Powers: It could be anyone in any of our agencies. There are dozens of people who have access to government information. Not to mention hackers,
of course. Or other governments. When you consider everything, I agree with Ekwan; it’s not exactly a surprise. We should have anticipated something.
3:15:45
Captain Turner: Anticipated? We’re not a military ship! We’re scientific! This kind of shit is not supposed to happen!
3:15:48
George Eastmain: Whether it’s supposed to happen or not, I just picked up a radar sensor reading on that ship’s forward hull. It’s a can-opener.
3:15:53
Captain Turner: A what?
3:15:54
Ekwan Nipiwin: The front of the ship is a spike that punctures the hull of the victim’s ship, at the same time inserting a reverse claw that will pry open our hull like a can of sardines.
3:16:03
Captain Turner: You mean they’re going to ram us?
3:16:05
Ekwan Nipiwin: Yes. Also, if we do not don our suitshields, we will quickly run out of air and pressurization.
3:16:11
Captain Turner: Shit and damn it all! Helen!
3:16:21
Helen Buchanan: Sorry Captain. At current velocity, any drastic alteration in course will tear us apart.
3:16:26
Captain Turner: How long until impact?
3:16:28
Helen Buchanan checks trajectory computer, requests confirmation.
3:16:39
Helen Buchanan: Collision in five minutes, twelve seconds … mark.
3:16:42
Captain Turner: All right. Everyone don suitshields. If they want the frigging ship, they can have it. Dale, can you erase all main computer files?
3:16:47
Dale Powers: Affirmative … entering command codes now.
3:16:50
Captain Turner: Helen, eject everything from payload bay, let them chase the TAHU and everything else from here to forever. Everybody else, to the security receptacles.
3:16:59
Dale Powers: All non-essential files deleted. Confirmed. All essential files awaiting command code for deletion.
3:17:00
George Eastmain, Ekwan Nipiwin, Henrietta Maria, Johan Belcher leave posts and head for security receptacles.
3:17:03
Captain Turner: Voice print confirmation: Captain Justine Churchill Turner, Orcus 1. Security Code: Alpha-Alpha-Alpha-Zeta-Alpha-Turkey-Chicken-Rat. I never got around to changing it.
Forbidden The Stars (The Interstellar Age Book 1) Page 11
