As Ken was putting the spacesuit on a second time he asked, “You said the shuttle was pressurized and had redundant backup systems, so why do you think we need a spacesuit as well?”
“The Trailblazer suffered massive systems failures, and only the places with multiple redundancies survived. If you did not have a spacesuit, your options would be limited,” Andreae replied. “We want you to be as well-equipped as possible, for any occasion.”
Valentinus nodded in agreement, “That too is our way. Multiple layers of protection make for a better outcome.”
Keeping the bubble helmets off, but carried along, Ken and Janae found that walking in the subtle and light-weight spacesuits was easier than either expected. It was only slightly bulky, and the joints bent nearly as far as a human body could bend. Their range of motion was not excessively limited.
Andreae led them to the shuttle, giving the flight instructions as they walked. The shuttle’s canopy lifted as they approached. “As I said, this shuttle is intuitive and responsive. While not as intelligent as a synthetic brain—oh where in a shuttle would we ever mount a central memory core? Alas, I digress, this shuttle is intelligent and needs very little direct supervision beyond a point and command.”
Janae stepped up and looked into the tandem cockpit. It was skinny, with the rear seat about a half-meter higher than the front, but not as tight as the FTL scout had been. The canopy consisted of two interlocking parts. One part could close and cover just the front seat, while the other could cover the rear seat, or—as the canopy was then—both parts could be raised and locked open.
“The seating compartments are almost separate,” Ken observed, “They can be moved independently, or opened together or separately.
Janae got into the front seat, and found that even in the spacesuit, she fit nicely into the contours of the well cushioned seat. The control dashboard had a major lever, rows of toggle switches, gauges, dials, and several small display screens. All of the instruments were labeled. She saw a dial marked, “Dampening field” and another maker “Auto-pilot” and one that was just marked “Emergency landing.”
“Looks like the same controls back here,” Ken said, “I am putting on my helmet and connecting it to the shuttle.”
“Understood,” Janae looked at Andreae and at Valentinus, “Thank you, for all of this. Thank you.”
“Blessings of the Sacrificed One be upon you,” Andreae intoned.
“The intercom will allow me to be able to hear and speak to you from the observation deck. Let me know when you are ready, and I will cycle the hanger bay,” Valentinus turned and walked away.
Snapping the bubble helmet down around her, Janae felt a strange sense of unease. When she had climbed into the FTL scout, back in Dome 17, her emotions had been a mess of chaotic contradictions. There, she had been around people she had known her entire life, Lorna, Brink, Willie, Doctor Chambers, and such, and doubted some of them, and hated others like Larson and Jubal. Yet, she trusted their machine, the FTL scout, and the new AI, Kimberly. Here, on the other hand, she was with people she barely knew, and was getting into a machine—which to her eyes—looked like an antique, and she was supposed to trust it. Neither time, had she had much control over what she was doing. Sure, she could have refused to track down the Trailblazer, and end up dead. And here, in this weird biome she probably could stay, yet she felt no desire to assimilate to these people, nor to the people in the Isle of Pines, and certainly not to the people back in Ida. “So, why am I going?”
“Janae? I hear you clearly, just like there was no helmet, but, I missed your question, I think. We are going so we can get back and attempt repairs of Kimberly, and check on the teleportation system. Maybe, we can make a difference.”
“Sorry, Ken. I was just thinking out loud,” Janae pulled down the canopy, and it locked into place. Green lights lit up on the cockpit’s display. A scrolled message appeared. Janae read it, “I have a message here, ‘All systems ready. Thruster tanks: full. Energy storage: full. Preflight checklist completed. Pilot One seat affirmed.’ I guess I am Pilot One.”
“I got the same message, but I am Pilot Two,” Ken replied. “At least that message did not tell us some tragedy was happening, or that terror was taking place.”
“I know that is right, but who did send us those messages? Bureau of Guardians? Ha! Guardians, right? I doubt it was these people here, helpful and strange as they are,” Janae replied.
“Well, when we get back and repair Kimberly, then maybe we can figure out that mystery.”
“Ken? Janae? I am in the observation deck at the controls. To let me hear you, flip the lever marked, ‘Short-range transmitter.’ Shall I cycle the hanger bay?” Valentinus’ voice came through speakers in both helmets. “We set you to private until you activate that.”
“Maybe they do learn here? At least not an apology,” Janae said as she switched the lever to the active position. Next to it was a second, and similar control marked “Long-range transmitter” and Janae wondered if it would reach all the way back to someone in Dome 17, but knew it would take decades to get there, as only the teleportation setup had FTL radio. “Unless, someone here on the Trailblazer invented that in parallel to Brink?” That comment she did not speak audibly.
“Short-range transmission engaged,” Ken stated. “Valentinus, cycle the hanger bay for us, and thank you, again.”
“Farewell. When you have left the hanger bay, activate the long-range transmitter and the dampening fields. You will then be able to speak to Johannes in the Exterior Repair Station. Blessings to you both!”
A very large display lit up on the back wall of the hanger bay. The lights in the hanger bay dimmed about fifty percent. Brilliant yellow letters on a deep blue background announced, “Depressurizing hanger bay in ten seconds.” It then flashed a countdown.
Janae and Ken felt nothing when that countdown happened.
“Gravity manipulation ending in ten seconds.” Followed by another countdown.
Janae and Ken felt the sensation of weight leave. There were several loud clanks and clacks as the docking clamps released the shuttle.
The giant display then read out, “External doors opening in ten seconds.” The numbers counted down again.
Turning their heads, Janae and Ken watched as the large external doors rolled back, revealing a scene which showed mostly the blackness of space, but along an upper section—if upper was the proper term—a different one of the gargantuan cylinders which comprised the Colony Ship Trailblazer was partially visible. It looked very far away, and the lights on it were diffuse.
“Applying slight thrusters to lift,” Janae stated, as she followed the simple steps on the commands. It was far easier than driving a fusion truck back outside of Dome 17.
The shuttle lifted smoothly and slowly, and Janae adjusted the thrusters to point the shuttle at the now fully-open exit from the hanger bay. The outside hull of the Trailblazer was thicker than Janae had remembered from their first contact when the scout had landed.
The shuttle flew gracefully out of the hanger bay, and the last comment Valentinus said was, “May the Sacrificed One guide, protect, anoint, and equip you in your journey.”
“I am engaging the long-range transmissions… transmitter, sorry,” Ken said as he toggled that lever. “This is Ken in the shuttle. Johannes? Are you able to hear me?”
“Excellent! Praises be!” Johannes’ voice came through and sounded like it was as clear as if he were sitting next to them. “I have the shuttle on my neodar, lidar, and even old-fashioned radar. I am in Exterior Repair Station 056, and have a small network of arrays and dishes which are clearly picking you up. Have you put on the dampening field?”
Janae tapped a switch, and part of her cockpit dash lit up with a new display showing another icon which was green. “Yes, it is now active. What are we looking to avoid out here?”
“Oh, yes, the dampening field is working marvelously! Only by using multiple tracking locks, and knowin
g your frequencies am I able to observe you. Turning on that field made your reflective size diminish by ninety-one percent. That is better than in our simulations. As to avoiding things, well, I am now marking the cylinder you seek to go to, which we have identified as Habitat Three, which they call Ida. It will now appear labeled in your display,” Johannes remarked.
Janae watched as the labeling appeared, and the cylinder was not the closest one—which was visible from the shuttle. That surprised her. The displays in the shuttle cockpit showed a small version of the Trailblazer, with one specific cylinder marked as “Christianopolis” and another as “Ida.” Janae maneuvered the shuttle along, away from the irregular mechanical surfaces of Christianopolis Cylinder, at a distance of about fifty meters above the closest projecting out things. She was taking a slow route while she figured out exactly what they were doing and where they were heading. Orientations of up and down were lost, and she was trying to reacquaint her mind with perspectives.
“Johannes? When we were kidnapped, I hardly had much chance to observe what Butterfield did, but heard her speaking about some safe routes and not so safe ways, or something like that. Restricted ways, and safe ways? Authorized, maybe? Ken might have paid more attention to her than I did. She was…” Janae was about to say a sarcastic thing about some imagined romantic engagement between Butterfield and Ken, but held her tongue, and wondered why she even thought such a nasty thing.
“She was talking to someone in Ida, a Diego. I think he was the same person we spoke with when we first arrived here,” Ken jumped in to say. “That did not go as Butterfield had planned, and the crash resulted. She blamed Diego for some betrayal, or something.”
“Oh dear,” Johannes replied. “I do not know about any of that, but there are odd regions in the space about the Trailblazer. Your displays now show the Trailblazer in its ideal state, as she should be, but perhaps not as she is today. There might be debris for you to avoid as well, especially around what they call Axis Mundi. I have—we here have, I should say—been taking astronomical observations and watching for decades. Mapping of the exterior hull was a secondary priority, as we were trying to understand the Encounter. Our working hypothesis involves the micro-singularity and lingering residual traces of the Encounter. Not overtly physical things such as hull structures, but other things. I am confident your dampening field will protect you from all those factors, while an old-style shuttle would be subject to infection of its systems by the septic radiation belts. Those systems would fail. However, if you need to return at any time to our hanger bay, let me know, and I will tell Valentinus.”
At the term radiation, both Ken and Janae perked up and their hearts sped up a bit. Ken wanted to pull his RAM suit’s hood on, but knew it was beneath the bubble helmet. Instead, he just said, “Is there a way to display those radiation belts, as you call them?”
“Oh yes, just fine-tune the dampening field’s display screen and the belts will show up. I am transferring all observatory controls to your shuttle now. The Trailblazer is shown in its natural color of gray-blue. Red overlays will be the densest areas of septic radiation, while black, or transparent, will be the least concentrated areas. The habitat cylinders are relatively free from that radiation, but from my readings—our readings—please forgive my hubris, the needle ship was saturated by that radiation far worse than anywhere else on the Trailblazer. The micro-singularity may have been sucked in via the ram-scoop—a component of the main drive—but that is just a weakly support theory, and there are many others. Discussions have postulated that…”
“Halt! We are doing practical application here, and now, not some conjecture or simulation,” Janae manipulated the controls. “Ken, I am modifying that display. The derelict Trailblazer is still blue, but tan will show the heaviest radiation areas, and the clear areas will still be clear. I will keep us in the clear areas. In this case, black space will mean radiation free space. So, onward we go, unless you want to pilot this shuttle?”
“Janae, you are doing superb! I am in this with you, and trust in your judgment and skills. I can see we need to fly around parts of the Trailblazer to get to Ida. Let me know what I can do to assist. I do like your color choices for the display, they are beautiful, like you.”
“Incorrigible, even out in a shuttle, in the backseat,” Janae chuckled, and it felt good to laugh a bit.
Johannes contributed more to the conversation, “Yes, colors are adjustable, to whatever you feel is best. Red is traditionally our color for warning, but if you want tan, that is fine. I also have located historical records of the various hanger bays on what they call Ida. I assume your Hanger 5 is in a clear area, otherwise those old shuttles will not function there. Sorry, but, even using that to limit possibilities, there are still nine possible locations. Those will show on your display as ‘Potential targets’ and I summon blessings upon you as you travel.”
“Uh? Blessings? Well, thank you,” Ken replied.
“Well, if you need me just call,” Johannes said. “I am not certain what more I can do, unless you are returning here. Then I could be of immense help, but you have everything I could find about that Habitat Three, Ida.”
“So, Johannes? Do you have an idea how to cycle a hanger bay from outside?” Ken inquired. “I am sure there is some protocol for that, but what do you say?”
“The lever marked ‘Emergency Landing’ will put out a distress call on all known frequencies,” Johannes replied. “That should trigger a response from a hanger bay, but that is only a theory. It has a limited range, only a thousand meters, and should not alert all of Ida. However, that is just a reasoned outcome from a scenario which we ran, using Christianopolis as our model. It might not work elsewhere. If the people in Ida changed the basic protocols, or frequencies, or made adjustments, I warn you, it might not work at all. If it does not work, another scenario is where I could walk you through landing on the hull near an Exterior Repair Station, securing the runabout to the hull, and entering the airlock. However, again, there is also the unknown effects of the septic radiation. I apologize for not being…”
“Stop apologizing,” Janae stated, but with less force than before. She was frustrated and not sure if they would ever change. Part of her did not want them to become like Jubal, and she actually appreciated the contriteness, even though it was also annoying.
Ken looked at the display and saw where the bands of radiation were located, and where the potential targets were. He disliked the idea of using the term target, as he preferred to think of it as his goal, and he also wondered how they would ever find homebase again. Then he fell back on the idea that a restored Kimberly would help in a myriad of ways. “Janae, I think we should just head toward the closest of the potentials. Unless, you can recall more of how Hanger 5 looked from out here?”
“I am fuzzy on that. I was relying on Kimberly to keep track. I honestly never thought we would be in space again, and here we are in this shuttle. Oh, Ken, I just wish there was a switch here where I could reset time and start over,” Janae lamented. “But, I cannot. So, sure, we head for that one here.” She pressed one of the potential targets on the display. It glowed both on her display and on Ken’s.
The shuttle’s thrusters fired and it moved along a space way which was clear on the displays, thereby indicating it was safe from radiation.
“Do we try that ‘Emergency Landing’ to gain entry? I doubt that Diego person will help us again, and if whatever it was that took place between him and Butterfield was any indication, they are hostile to our approach. If I recall correctly, Diego—or one of them—said they had repulsor projectors and microparticle turrets along some spots of Ida. That sounds like weapons, or tools that could be made into weapons. Like what happened when Butterfield was flying. But I am not sure which end we were on, or are approaching, and whether that was a warning about where we were, or where we were headed. The scout moved fast, faster than this shuttle.”
“We did encounter some kind of repulsors, I vivi
dly recall that,” Janae added. “But this craft has its dampening field, so, I guess, in a way, this shuttle is better suited for making this small crossing.”
“Which still does not tell us exactly how to gain entry into Hanger 5 when we find it.”
“True enough, but anywhere on Ida will be sufficient, and we can then make our way through the shell. As to using the ‘Emergency Landing’ option, maybe we should fly over and take some visual inspections first?”
“Agreed. We got trapped there once. You are wise to be seeking more information this trip. Intelligent, brave, and beautiful, Janae, you just lead us on!”
The shuttle moved along parallel to the surface of the Trailblazer, but then Janae adjusted the flight path, as she was following where the display showed a clear area—radiation safe ways. The parade of the myriad of surface fixtures on the hull were diminishing, as they moved away from Christianopolis, and toward the habitat cylinder which was closest. That was not Ida, but the safe space way led them toward it.
“Ha! Contact! This display also shows when repulsors are striking it. The dampening field is effectively slicing those away from us,” Janae said. “Thank you, people of Christianopolis. Not even a rippled in our inertia suppression system, although this old shuttle could never take the strains of a sling launch.”
Terror on the Trailblazer Page 18
