by Rob Buckman
The searcher spread out, and Mike took Janice and Conner with him to look for the Bridge. He tried keeping an open link at first, but the babble of excitement was too great and he set his comm unit to standby mode after a while. For an hour they searched, going from room to room, deck to deck, up and down stairwells and automatic elevators, or lift shafts, but it wasn’t until they covered a quarter of a mile that they found something. They entered another compartment, and this did resemble a Bridge, and even as they entered the giant screens around the room lit up, and a voice began speaking. The words were unintelligible, but it was soon clear that whatever it was, kept repeating the same thing.
“It has to be some sort of automatic system, probably giving a warning of intruders, or asking for information.”
“Seems logical, Janice, see if you can find a terminal, or something similar.”
“Aye, sir.”
She walked around the room, her hands running over the smooth shelf that seamlessly stuck out from the bulkhead. There were several objects lying around the giant room, and Mike picked them up and dropped them in his pack, seeing Conner do the same.
“Found something, Skipper.”
“What do you have?” Mike walked over and looked over her shoulder.
“Not, sure, sir, but when I scanned it with a probe, this came up on the screen."
“ scrolled across the screen in odd looking letters. Then it changed, sped up,
“I’d say it was trying to communicate, sir.”
“Run the probe over it again.” Mike ordered. She did and the screen changed again. This time it came up in Anglic but was almost unreadable
“YouwhoARE - hereyouwhatdo.”
“Cindy!” Mike called, keying his comm unit, trying to suppress his excitement.
“Here, Skipper.” She answered, sounding a little miffed that she lost out in the lottery. She was standing in for Sally Goldman.
“Can you download the language file to my comm unit?”
“Let me see if it will fit in the buffer, sir - no, I can only download part of it, sir.”
“Is it structured?”
“Yes, sir, in three parts, but they are still too big to fit, sir.”
“What if you downloaded them in binary code, would that help?” Janice interrupted.
“Yes, sir, they would fit then, but they wouldn’t be usable.”
“Good, download the first part.” She did, and it only just fit.
Mike then rested his arm on the consult and waited. Somehow, this unit had a way of reading the memory in Janice’s probe, and he suspected that’s where it had got the words from. The probe's memory didn’t hold much language data, or structure, but he was hoping that like all computers it would be able to read binary code. Within seconds, the screen went wild, words and symbols flashed across it, first in binary code, then words. The trouble was, they didn’t make sense. Mike dumped the memory and ordered Cindy to download the next file.
This time, after the unit extracted the file the words started to make some sense, but they were flashing by so fast that they couldn’t read them. The last file did the trick, as this one must have contained the structure and cadence of Standard English.
“Who are you?” Scrolled across the screen. Mike and the other looked at one another. There was no keyboard, so how could they answer.
“What do we do now, Skipper?”
“I’m open to suggestion.”
“Without a keyboard, how on Earth do we talk to it.” All three looked around for some form of key pad, or other input devise.
“I am receiving your radio transmissions.” The screen announced.
“Well, I guess that answers that question,” Mike chuckled, “I’m Captain Mike Gray, of the Royal Naval Vessel H.M.S. Nemesis, and this is Chief Petty Officer Conner Blake, and Leftenant Janice Fletcher.” He said, looking around the room.
“Thank you, one called Gray - where are you from?”
“A planet called Earth, in the system on the other side of this warp point I think.”
“Warp point - explain?”
“This gravitational anomaly you are in.”
“This gravitational anomaly you name a warp point is called a gateway, but I will accept you calling it by a different name.”
“Thanks, but who, or what are you?”
“I am the translocation Battleship ‘Dracon’ of the Anacas Republic.”
“OK, and how long have you been here?”
“For 8000 cycles.” Mike looked at the others and shrugged.
“I will have to learn a way of converting that into our time measurement system for it to make sense to me.”
“Please state the orbital rotation of your star around the Galactic center.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have that information.”
“What is the location of your home planet in relationship with its sun, and what is your planetary rotation?”
“Earth is the third planet from the sun and has a three hundred and sixty-five day rotation. We break that down into 24 separate segments called hours to make one unit called a day.”
“Then by you time measurement, I have been here for 85000 of your years.”
“Good God!” Janice breathed.
“Have you taken the time dilation effect of the black hole event horizon?” Janice asked.
“No. I can only give you the amount of time I have spent here by my internal clock.”
“I see.”
“Until I can connect to the outside universe again and reset my internal clock to a known pulsar, I cannot tell you the total length of time I have been stationed here.”
“What happen to you, and where is your crew?”
“I sustain extensive external and internal damage and my crew departed for our home world in auxiliary vessels of the fleet.”
“That’s a long time to be alone, Skipper.” That struck a note with Mike. If this was an artificial intelligence, what did it feel in all that time.
“Has anyone visited you before?”
“No.”
“Who were you are war with?”
“A race called the Bracar.”
“Who won?” Conner asked.
“I do not know the answer to that question, one called Conner Blake.”
“Eighty-five thousand years, and no one has come back for you in all that time.”
“It suggests the possibility that either my race perished in the war, or they mutually destroyed each other.”
“What star system are you from?”
“A star system call, in your language, ‘Mariner’.”
“Guess we’d have to download some star charts before we get an answer to that, Skipper.”
“Yes, wouldn’t do much good looking at any here, no base of reference to work from.” Just then Mike received a ping from Pete Standish.
“Captain actual - go.”
“Skipper, we found what has to be the engine room, and my God is it big.”
“That’s good to hear. We managed to locate the CIC and we are in communication with the ship’s CI at the moment.”
“Everything alright, Skipper?” He could hear the worry in Pete’s voice even over the comm net.
“No problems here, Pete. The CI is very helpful… and none hostile.” He added.
“Understood, Skipper. By the way, I’m standing next to what has to be one of the fusion bo
ttles. It’s huge, in fact, it’s so big you could probably fit the Nemesis inside with room to spare.”
“You said one of. How many are there?”
“Six, Skipper, and I think there are two others that could be anti-matter reactors.”
“My lord. That’s a lot of power. Tread lightly, Pete. We don’t want to upset our host.”
“Ten-four, sir. We will treat everything with the greatest respect.” It was one thing to scrounge everything they could from a derelict ship and another from one that knew what you were doing.
“I have located you species in my database - you are species 1148 from a minor star in the Matalan cluster.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“You are a primitive race in your early stage of development, but you should not be able to travel inter-dimensional space yet.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but we do.”
“On the development scale set by the theorist Chanar, you should not be able to achieve inter-dimensional space flight for another thousand years.”
“Hate to tell you this, but your database is wrong, we have been in space for over three hundred years now, two of them with inter-dimensional fight as you put it.” Mike answered.
“My database of this sector of space is over five thousand of your years old, and it could be in error.”
“And the calculation made by your theorist Chanar.”
“I will have to enter that information for future reference, but as of this time, all his calculations have proved correct.”
“Well, war has a tendency to push things along a little quicker.”
“What species were you are warringwith?” There was an embarrassing silence for a moment, as it was clear that the computer thought they were at war with someone else.
“With ourselves.” Mike said at last.
“With yourselves.” Now it was the computers turn to pause for a moment, as if digesting the information. “I find this information hard to accept.” It said at last.
“Yes, I can understand that, we find it hard to accept at times ourselves.”
“This is counter to the survival of your species. How is it you have survived?”
“I know, but we don’t seem to be able to stop.” Mike sighed, thinking of all the wars fought on Earth, and now in space. “As to how we managed to survive, I guess it’s due to being able to colonize other star systems and relieve the pressure.”
“You are at war with yourself now?”
“Yes, in a way we are, I’m sorry to say, that’s what we were doing when we found you.”
“What were you doing?”
“On our way back from another planet that is building warships for us in the coming war.”
“And where were you going?”
“We were instructed to see if we could find a way back to Earth… our planet through this warp point.”
“I understand, and from what you have told me, and the information in my data banks, you star is indeed on the other side of this dimensional gateway.”That brought a smile to everyone’s face behind their faceplates.
“Will you return?” It was an odd question from a Cybernetic Intelligence. It bordered on being self aware, and that was a little frightening.
“No, I’m not sure, that’s up to you.”
“In what way?”
“You are causing a gravitational deflection here, and any ships that come through the warp point from the other side end up in the gravity well of the black hole or plunges into the star.”
“That is how it was planned.”
“Planned, how?”
“I was sent here to defend this gateway and prevent the enemy from using it. After I was damaged it was decided that I should remain on guard.”
“You said, you were damaged?”
“Yes, my inter-dimensional drive systems are non-functional, but I do have some weapons capabilities and can still defend this portal.”
“So you can’t move at all?”
“Only within a limited manner, as my fuel supply is almost exhausted."
“What do you use as fuel?”
“Hydrogen, but I need to move to a source or scoop as I travel and that I can no longer do.”
“That’s the same thing we do, and I can replenish your fuel tanks a little.”
“From my scan of your ship, I suspect it is far short of what I need for continued existence, but even that small amount would be helpful.”
“I’ll have my ship transfer as much as we can, then refill and come back with more.”
“I thank you, one called Gray.”
“We’ll have to go soon, but I would like to come back with some equipment and repair you so you can move.”
“I feel that your capabilities to repair my damaged system are beyond your technological understanding.”
“What if we could tow you to a planetary system, could you help specialist repair you?”
“Yes, that would be acceptable. With sufficient planetary resources I can self repair much of the damage myself.”
“It will mean leaving you alone again for a while.”
“As much as I would like to communicate with an intelligent species again, I can wait, one called Gray.”
“It might be several months before someone comes back.”
“By your time framethat is a small price to pay.” If Mike didn’t know better, he’d swear the computer voice sounded happy.
“Can you give us some data concerning your needs to repair yourself?”
“To what end, one called Gray?”
“So my people can look at them and see how they can help you.”
“That is acceptable - I will place the data on a medium that you can interact with.”
“Thanks, I’ll arrange for the fuel transfer now.” Mike switched frequencies and told Gable what was happening. He looked glum, but didn’t argue. The AI supplies the location of the fuel port, and the Nemesis came along side. It didn’t take Adam long to rig up a fuel transfer hose, but it did take time to pump the liquid hydrogen across. He kept enough for the ship to make a run to a gas giant and scoop if he needed more, then return with a fuel tanker.
“I hope that’s sufficient to keep you going.”
“That is sufficient for my needs, one called Gray."
“Wish I could stay, but like you, I have my orders as well.”
“Will you come back with the others?” The computer asked, sounding hopeful.
“Yes, yes I will.” Mike answered on impulse. Just then, the door opened, and a small bot floated in. For a moment, everyone jumped, Conner even drew his sidearm.
“Here is the information you requested.”
“Where?”
“This auxiliary unit will go with you, and is capable of answering your technical question. It also has a complete schematic of my construction, as well as star charts and a complete map of the other inter-dimensional gateways in this system and where they lead.”
“That should help immensely once we align it with our star charts. Can you switch off whatever it is that causes ship to defect into the black hole?”
“Yes, one called Gray, I have all ready done so. And will move to a location where you can safely use the gateway.”
“Thank you, at least now I can come back this way.”
“MAY THE STARS GUIDE YOUR FOOTSPETS ON THE TRUE PATH, one called Gray.” It was an odd statement, almost like a benediction with religious overtones, but he didn’t have time right now to ponder the implications.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Jesus, I was expecting a data chip or something.” Janice chuckled, looking at the mech. The bot followed them as they left, and it was with a feeling of sadness that Mike hit the close switch in the airlock. One way or another, Mike was determined he’d be with the first ship to return.