Caryn_Galactic Archaeologist

by James Warner

  “How long do we have left, Captain?” Meph asked.

  “Maybe another half hour if we don’t do anything at all,” I answered tersely. I could not face even the idea of losing my best friend, Sassy, now.

  “Captain, if I don’t make it, please notify my next of kin,” Sassy said.

  “Who is that, Sassy?” I asked on our private intercom.

  “You,” she replied.

  “What? How? My Gods,” I mumbled. “Don’t worry, I

  won’t let anything destroy you!”

  I cried, fogging up my suit’s faceplate. After a few deep breaths to calm myself, I hooked up the radio transmitter, because it would work fine at local planetary distances and because it took the least power to operate, and set up a recording transmitting in the general direction of the third planet. We were coasting near it and would probably end up in orbit around it.

  “Meph, check the status of the lander’s power, would you?”

  “Hey Captain! What an idea! It’s fully charged. I know because I did it when we parked it!”

  “Okay, let’s go down to our old friend in the planet and see if we can rescue the Hornet,” I said with a great deal more enthusiasm than I had felt a few minutes before.

  We unplugged our suits, turned off everything, including the radio and the lights and felt our way in the dark with our flashlights to the bay where the lander was stowed. It was sitting there, innocent and luckily totally undamaged. The tell-tales were visible on the door lock. I cycled the hatch by hand after stabilizing its cabin pressure with the lower pressure in the Hornet. We got in, closed the hatch, brought the air back up to normal and then powered up. Lights! It was a great feeling.

  I used the lander’s manipulation claw to wind open the Hornet’s outside airlock door and we were looking at the star speckled (or was that debris?) blackness of space. Planet 3 was on the other side of the ship. Thank goodness the Pirates weren’t firing at us at the moment – Sassy’s shields were completely gone.

  I eased the lander out and we headed for Repair Station 142 down on the surface. I knew I could find it again with a quick orbit. But what I did find was a molten radioactive puddle where once we had entered the planet’s surface on our last visit. I decided to try calling, but I didn’t remember the frequency and the Hornet was in no position to answer questions right now. So I did a scan message trying the old hit and miss. And we hit it the first time through the frequency scan.

  “Hello Daughter. You have again made us proud. Please land at the coordinates we have fed to your lander. We will fetch your starship for repairs momentarily. Her memory will remain intact.”

  I gave the lander’s computer the coordinates and Meph and I sat back with a big sigh of relief – for a moment.

  I was jerked back to reality by a tremendous beam of energy flashing by outside, headed in the general direction of the Hornet. I swiveled the scanner around to see what was going on and my heart just sank. There behind us were three more Pirate ships using the Hornet for target practice! But thankfully Station 142 was defending her. The beam of energy from below had become a shield around the Hornet and the Pirates seemed frustrated. Unfortunately they had spotted us and apparently decided to take out their frustrations on us.

  “Meph, this thing doesn’t have much in the way of shielding. Did you bring anything in your bag?”

  “Well Captain, not much. My portable recorder and portable sensor. That’s about it.”

  “Shit!”

  “Hello Repair Station 142,” I called frantically into the comm link. “Do you hear me? We are about to be attacked and have no shielding,” and I was cut off as a bolt of energy from the nearest Pirate ship sliced through the thin atmosphere, just missing us. The EM pulse fried our radio transmitter. Meph and I quickly sealed our suits – just in time, as the next bolt hit the lander somewhere behind us near the engine, putting a hole clear through. When I turned around to see what the damage was I could see through the hole the planet below us and the red tinge of the lander’s bent metal starting to heat up.

  We lost all power, controls, life support, everything.

  Thank the gods the fuel hadn’t exploded.

  Our aerodynamics were shot and we began slowly spinning as the atmosphere thickened. Then we began tumbling. My suit filtered out the smell of burning shuttle bits as we heated up from the friction on the broken lander. I could hear the scream of the wind in my helmet as we fell like a leaf through the thickening air. I began feeling sick to my stomach.

  I was unusually calm, as I expected to die in another few seconds. My life didn’t flash in front of me, like they say in all the books and holos. Instead I felt a sort of paralysis and a tremendous disappointment that I had never been able to have a baby. Hell of a time to think of sex! But what can I say? I am a very healthy human woman in the prime of my life. Meph grabbed my hand with a tentacle in an act of closeness that surprised me. The noise was so great we couldn’t hear each other anymore.

  As if in slow motion, I saw the next bolt of energy from the Pirate’s guns coming at us. As it reached the lander it burst around us like an aurora, probably the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I figured I had just died and this was the gateway to heaven, or the other place.

  But I couldn’t have died, because the dead lander and the live Meph were right here with me. Then I realized what I was seeing. It was the effect of a beam hitting a force field, viewed from inside, in an atmosphere through the broken side of the lander.

  Probably no one had ever seen this before. I hoped no one would ever see it again, especially me.

  We were safe, with Station 142’s force field around us. The Pirates kept at us. All three busting their guts to blast us out of the universe. All totally fruitless on their part.

  Station 142 pulled us toward one of the ports I hadn’t seen before on the other side of the planet from the blasted entrance we had used last time. Finally the Pirates gave up on us and began attacking the port. However, it was also shielded. They tried the Hornet again but she was still shielded. So they hovered in an orbit, undoubtedly recording everything that transpired. And each one of them just winked out, one by one. Station 142 had some heavy defenses! Thank our makers for that!

  I was shaking a little from the adrenalin rush and I was getting tired. When we were brought inside and set down on a landing pad in the station, the lander just collapsed all around us. It was all I could do to stagger out of the dead lander debris, down the walkway, into reception and into a room. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the riddled shell of the Hornet slowly lowering into her docking bay.

  I didn’t notice that this was the same room I had been in before. I requested a meal of soup, got it, couldn’t finish it and fell asleep on the couch. All I dreamed about were men. Tall ones, short ones, handsome ones, ugly ones, Earth ones, alien ones, on and on throughout the “night”. Finally the dreams stopped and I fell into a deeper sleep, a more peaceful sleep of which I remember absolutely nothing.

  I later found out I had slept for about twelve hours straight. I guess with the wear and tear of battle I also needed some repair.

  When I woke up, I found that I was indeed in the same room I had stayed in before. I did the necessary cleanup and sat down to a breakfast. I was famished. It felt so common, so usual, for a few minutes I forgot all about the hell that was awaiting us out there in space. Then as I ate I felt the room shake as if there were a slight earthquake. But I knew there couldn’t be an earthquake here. That meant one thing. Bombardment. And big ones, too. My reverie was over.

  Just then Meph showed up and was I glad to see him.

  “Meph, what’s going on?”

  “You’ve been out for a while, Captain. Lots has happened since then. The Hornet is being repaired.

  And from that tremor, did you feel it?”

  I indicated that I had.

  “I’d say that the Pirates have called up some heavy guns and are bombarding us.”

  “That’s w
hat I thought. Station 142, are you under attack?”

  “Yes. It is of no concern at this time. I am very large and the fleet outside is quite small. They are not likely to do any serious damage. However, it would be wise for you to stay here until they finish. I would rather not destroy them all as my power capacity would be seriously drained and your culture does not yet have the capability to replenish it. The life expectancy of my power source is only 20,000 more of your years, so as you can see I must conserve it.”

  Conserve it indeed. If we could find that kind of power source, our civilization could really take off.

  “Meph, do you have the data on this power source?”

  “No, Captain. I didn’t get around to it. Let me see if I can load it into my datadesk.”

  “Station 142, will you release this technology to my First Mate so we can take it back to our civilization for research and development?” I asked.

  “I cannot do that because of the way my security system is arranged. However, your starship is a secure device under your direct control, so I can transfer the data there

  at your command.”

  “Okay, please do this as soon as possible.” Sometimes the most sophisticated computer can drive you around the corner with its unbendable logic. But I wasn’t about to complain; after all, we were alive, with our ride home apparently intact.

  Later in the day, Meph and I were back in the Hornet, checking out her systems. The radioactive spill had been cleaned off. The Hornet was on an umbilical, keeping the batteries powered up and we hadn’t yet been fueled.

  “Station 142, what is the status of refueling?"

  “This is not yet possible. I have sent a tanker to Planet 4 of the closest star system in search of fuel supplies such as that used by your starship. However, none have been found intact. There is an abandoned space station in an erratic orbit around Planet 4 that may have fuel. If so, your starship will be ready to depart within this wakeperiod.”

  “What are our options if there is no fuel to be found?”

  “Then your ship will have to be modified with one of the spare power plants stored here. This will take approximately four days, your home world time.”

  I thought about this for a moment. Four days. Fuel supplies could be scarce, but I could think of nothing more interesting than getting an advanced/Ancient engine system. But ... would it be as powerful, or as fast as the Hornet’s current system? Might as well ask.

  “I would be interested in this modification if it would be a performance advantage over what the Hornet now has. Is this the case?”

  “You may have the specifications so you can decide.”

  Next to the couch the gold sheets came out. I was getting the hang of the devices in my suite. They were a businesswoman’s heaven. From here I could talk to the Hornet, Meph, Station 142, even possibly the Boss.

  Meph and I checked out the specifications. They were very impressive.

  “Look at this, Meph. The power output is way more than the Hornet’s engine.”

  “Yes, Captain. And the duty cycle, if I translate correctly is around a thousand years. Could the Hornet even last that long?”

  “Not as a brainship, no. But then neither could I!”

  The Hornet’s mechanicals were designed for a life cycle of about two hundred years space-time, although that was just the power system. The space framework and electronics could last indefinitely - certainly more than a couple hundred years.

  However I could see there would be problems. This alien power supply and engine was one unit. In the Hornet the engine was a separate, replaceable module. And the power output from the Parents’ power unit was far greater than the Hornet’s, so there were interface problems. Even though the new power plant was considerably smaller than the Hornet’s, I was still wondering about how to interface it with the Hornet’s existing systems.

  “142, how will you feed everything to and from the power unit and the hornet’s systems?”

  “Meph, what do you think?”

  “I don’t know Captain. There are voltage, amperage and general conduit interface problems,” he replied.

  Perhaps we could feed everything into the batteries and use them as a buffer into the electrical system. I wasn’t sure. Meph wasn’t sure. So we asked 142. “Your starship will be able to interface properly with a few slight modifications. We will have to build better shielding for the bio-systems, however.”

  “Do you mean me and Meph, or are you including

  the Hornet’s computer?”

  “Oh, all three of you, of course,” the Station said. It made me think about Hornet’s biological computer.

  It was technically still genetically human, after all.

  “How long will the exchange and modifications take?” I asked, hope slipping fast. A refit, even a minor one, at one of the major Admiralty refit stations could take a month or more. I had never heard of an engine swap taking less than two months. Even for a small cruiser. We’d be very late.

  “We should have the power system installed in three ship days. A fourth day will be required for system testing. If it all goes properly four days will be required.”

  “Meph I want to watch this!”

  “Yes, Captain. It should be remarkable, to say the least.”

  So for the next day we watched the Hornet being torn apart aft of the storage bays. Her whole skin from there back was removed by the spidery ‘droids to facilitate access to the engine sensors and other systems. The speed of the ‘droids was amazing. Of course, the Hornet had fed all her technical details to the station, so 142 knew exactly what to do.

  After a few hours I couldn’t follow what was going on there were so many ‘droids moving so fast. Meph returned to his room to study the specifications and theory of the new power plant. I went back to my suite and started calling people. It was uncanny to be able to communicate in real time across the galaxy. I started with my close friend and counselor at the Academy.

  “Hello, Suzanne? This is Caryn.”

  “Caryn? McDowell? How the hell are you calling me? You’re supposed to be on mission!”

  “Yeah, Caryn McDowell. I am on mission, but never mind right now how I can call you – I have an important question. You remember the guy I recommended to the Academy Admittance Board?”

  “Sure, I remember him. Tall, handsome, bedroom eyes, voice that would melt chocolate?”

  “Yeah? Good. I just wanted to check on his progress.”

  “He’s doing fine. Top of his class so far. Stay away girl, he doesn’t need any distractions right now. It’s finals time.”

  “No problem. Just checking. Don’t tell him, okay?”

  “Of course. When are you coming to Earth? You have another scholarship awardee who just enrolled last semester. Her name is Philippa Tourneur and she’s from Italy on Earth. Your program could use some more publicity.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe after this mission.”

  “Okay. Give me a ring.”

  Suzanne was my counselor when I attended the Academy and she was still a counselor there. She was a really great woman and good friend with lots of connections and two girls of her own with her husband who was an accountant in Boulder, Colorado. I had named her as the administrator for the scholarship program I had set up for Fred and others.

  I had the Hornet send her entire log to the GED; under a confidential seal so only the librarian and I could mess with it. I was having fun. On the fourth day when Meph and I returned to the dock we saw that the Hornet was a very different ship. She had a dull dark gray skin aft of the cargo bay door, all the way to the stern. And at the front her skin was replaced with the same dark gray material around the sensor units from the nose all the way past the bio computer systems.

  “142, why has the Hornet been clad in this dark gray material?”

  “We do not have enough titanium alloy to make the changes with your materials, so we used what we had on hand.”

  “What about the front skin, why d
id you replace that?”

  “Since the sensors needed to be modified, we felt it was expedient to change the hull material around them as well. Also, we felt it was aesthetically pleasing.”

  Aesthetically pleasing?

  And now the front sensor units had been integrated with Meph’s sensors, giving the Hornet total sight in all directions, without having to rely on us to turn them on. I thought this was a good idea. But aesthetically pleasing? I guess it was. I was just hoping the food units hadn’t been messed with. I had carefully programmed them for my favorite meals.

  “Your starship has been repaired. Please stand by while all systems are checked out,” 142 informed us as we stood by the window looking at the Hornet. She looked like a Hornet indeed, with her black rear and black nose and the silver/reddish gold colored center section of titanium alloy she was originally covered with. The cruiser gun emplacements had been repaired and recovered with the same Artifact material. Somehow she didn’t look as sweet and innocent as she had before. I wasn’t sure I liked that, since I had relied on the harmless look to fool more than one trigger-happy idiot.