The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books

by John Thornton

  “Essentially yes. I cannot be absolutely certain of no interruptions. We do have mysteries about the Conestoga we do not understand. In addition to the Shadow device, there is still the puzzle of our failed data sticks, and the large questions which surround the Cosmic Crinkle, and this planet Zalia. Nonetheless, I conjecture a high rate of success for S-1DT in its mission.”

  “How long until it can be dispatched to Beta? We want Khin and Vesna to get their security as soon as reasonable.” Cammarry had numerous concerns about what was happening in the asylum where she had been a prisoner. She did not trust the synthetic brain, SB Cotard, even though it was still overseeing the residents and patients there.

  The Alpha teleporter’s orifice winked out without a sound. There was a slight smell of residue, sort of mix of bitter and pungent, which always came when the Alpha Teleporter shut down. Jerome had asked Sandie, but her explanation involved multiple mathematics calculations, rotation variables on the planet, gravity manipulation generation fields, and the Coriolis force vectors. Basically Sandie assured him it was not a malfunction, and offered to make a simulation of Master Engineer Brink to fully explain the occurrence, but Jerome declined.

  “The Beta teleporter is ready at the present moment, and the receiving pad area is clear of potential threats or any habitat personnel,” Sandie announced.

  “Any estimate on travel time from that antechamber off hanger bay Dardanella 135 to the Special Care Unit?” Cammarry asked.

  “Only very rough approximations, which will not be accurate,” Sandie replied. “Without knowing the terrain along the edges of the sea and what might be potential obstacles, I cannot make any kind of accurate conjectures. The automacube S-1DT will make reconnaissance reports along the way, as well as being monitored by me. The trip itself will be a very valuable information gathering expedition.”

  “Assuming it is able to get out of the corridors, and through the ruins of that town of Quady without the people attacking it,” Cammarry looked at it closely. “It does look very much like a typical red automacube from the Conestoga, so I hope it blends in well enough to avoid problems.”

  “And avoid those gravity sink holes!” Jerome emphasized.

  “None of those phenomena have been observed from the limited assets we have in Beta,” Sandie replied. “Yes, I used the designs from the Conestoga as much as possible in modeling the exterior look of our version of the automacube. Shall I send it though now?”

  “Yes,” Cammarry stated and affectionately tapped the red automacube on its top.

  “In Alpha, those red automacubes tried to kill us.” Jerome crossed his arms across his chest as he watched the machine roll over to the sending pad component of the Beta teleporter. “In Beta I had to destroy some, so it is good to now have them on our side.” It rolled onto the pad, and stopped.

  The jumbo fusion boxes on the corners of the smaller teleporter hummed a bit as its system was engaged. A shimmering of energy began on the flat grid pad. On the opposite side from where S-1DT was parked. Two bright balls of energy popped noisily into existence and hovered above that end.

  “All aspects of the teleporter are functioning well within operation parameters,” Sandie reported.

  The glowing energy balls moved together and united. They then expanded as the orifice was created. It was just a tiny ring for a moment, but looking down that ring was like peering into a long pipe. At the end was the receiving pad in the antechamber. The ring quickly expanded and then again it snapped with a loud crack. A rectangular upright passage was created. All around it glowed a brilliant white line of energy.

  “It is nice to do this without someone shooting at us, or an urgent need to escape. Finally, we are getting where we can do our own exploration in a controlled and calculated manner,” Cammarry said with a smile. “I still wish we had connected to Dome 17 and gotten our people to come to us.”

  “You know I feel that way sometimes too,” Jerome said somberly. “But I would not wish them to be here on the Conestoga at all.”

  “I know that is right,” Cammarry agreed. “I know we have talked of this before, but I did not realize how much I would miss Dome 17 and especially the people there. This base we have built is beginning to feel like a safe home, at least it is more routine now.”

  “Indeed. Maybe a dull and regular life for us now, right? Some have said their minds rebel at stagnation. They want constant problems, and puzzles, and mysteries. They call for ever increasing mental stimulation to work on some obscure and abstruse cryptograms, or the most intricate problems needing solving. That is the milieu they constantly crave, yet not I. I can use some normal calmness.”

  “Jerome, those old writers you quote never visited the Conestoga, or explored the dead domes on Earth. You have done both. You have far exceeded any of the people you quote and recite!” Cammarry laughed.

  “Yes, only a fool will abhor the dull routine of existence. You and I have been adventurers since we were fifteen and began training for it,” Jerome said. “Sure the job suits me well, and you are excellent at it, but after traipsing across Beta, alone for much of it, lost and without technology, it feels very nice to have a home base from which to operate.”

  “Agreed.” Cammarry smiled at him.

  Sandie the AI announced, “Synchronization complete. Orifice stable. S-1DT proceeding to teleport.”

  The red automacube rolled up and into the orifice. From Cammarry’s perspective, for a moment, it looked like it was sticking out the end of the orifice in Beta, and yet still partially on the needle ship. That strange moment was very brief. Then it was through.

  “Communication confirmed and secured. Teleportation successful. The S-1DT has linked to the shuttle NS-99 in the hanger bay as a redundant communication network,” Sandie stated.

  The orifice winked out. There never was a smell when sending things to Beta, but there was when sending or receiving things from Alpha. Jerome again wondered about that.

  “Give us regular status reports on that automacube,” Cammarry commanded. “We must learn as much as possible, for when we go back to help those people.”

  “Absolutely,” Sandie replied. “As it travels we will compile a much greater understanding of Beta.”

  “That is why I am enjoying the calm now,” Jerome said. “I know we must go back into that fray. Those gravity sink holes are an ominous threat, and that whole habitat might be in serious danger. I still wonder about those alien Crocks as well.”

  Cammarry stepped over and hugged him. “Slave traders in Alpha, and gravity sink holes in Beta, all on a world with enigmatic alien life forms.”

  “We are the real aliens here,” Jerome said as he hugged her back. “This is their world, and we are the space invaders. They did warn us to leave.”

  “That one wrote out, ‘You leave now’ and I am puzzled by how it knows our language,” Cammarry said. “But will that strain the routine you just mentioned and urge you to, how did you put it, ‘ever increasing mental stimulation on obscure cyphers, or intricate problems’?”

  “Yes, I said something like that.” Jerome grinned. “I know we still face many problems. Sandie, the next automacube will be ready at what time?”

  “The fabrication of the automacube designated T-1DT and its assorted supplies is proceeding well. I will teleport it here to the needle ship when an available safe opportunity arises. From here it can be dispatched to Beta so it can progress on to the Listening Ear. I am planning on having it take the opposite route around the sea from the journey of S-1DT, so as to make a fuller and better reconnaissance of Beta Habitat.”

  “Sandie, will those machines be able to tolerate or endure a gravity sink hole?” Jerome asked. “I have seen large animals have their legs broken, and even a human gets crushed down by one.”

  “But Jerome, you also said a small flying animal, a bird, was not killed when it entered one of those gravity sink holes,” Cammarry interjected before the AI could respond.

  “Yes, they mu
st be variable,” Jerome replied, “which in a way answers my question.”

  Sandie added, “Jerome, your question is based on a valid concern. These phenomena are not at all understood. I have added as many detection devices, monitors, and information gathering systems to these automacubes for the express purpose of assessment and evaluation of those gravity sink holes. I cannot guarantee the machines will be undamaged should they encounter one, but they will report to us a plethora of data about those areas. That will greatly aid in our understanding of them.”

  “We must find a way to stop them, and I believe the Crock beings on Zalia are somehow responsible. Call it a belief or intuition, but I think there is a connection,” Jerome said. “Put logic aside for a moment, and my instincts tell me so. There is no logical way to the discovery of how those gravity sink holes work. There is only the way of intuition, which is helped by a feeling for the order lying behind the outward appearance.”

  “In our database there are fourteen different people who have statements attributed to them saying very similar things. Basically that intuition is a deferment of logic due to impatience, or exasperation,” Sandie replied. “Right now we are taking logical, methodical, and reasoned steps to assess what has happened in Beta. That is our best course of action.”

  “Agreed. I am just deeply concerned,” Jerome replied.

  “Jerome, are you thinking of those missing children? Or the Ferryman? Or the anarchy which runs rampant in Beta?” Cammarry squeezed his arm. “When we learn more, we will be able to plan our next actions.”

  “Yes, I know. Actions without planning are a surefire plan for failure,” Jerome responded. “I want a stable, normal, and safe place, but I keep wondering how that can be achieved.”

  “Beta is not safe, that is a certainty,” Cammarry stated. “And we have visited Alpha. Has that habitat changed much? Still open rebellion and civil war?”

  Sandie stoically made a report. “We have the small reconstituted lattice of Conestoga’s synthetic brains doing reconnaissance in Habitat Alpha. I am in the process of evolving that reconstituted lattice into a more functional system, but it will take some time to advance its capabilities. SB Sherman is keeping log of the doors it controls and who has passed through them. SB Bodowa is overseeing Reproduction and Fabrication and the corridors around it, and SB Yomaris reports to us on Alpha’s solar mimicry, weather, and main reactors. SB Yomaris is maximized on its abilities keeping those essential systems functioning, but has made regular and helpful reports. None of those Conestoga systems have reported anything resembling a gravity sink hole. Habitat Alpha appears to be relatively mechanically stable. The social status there with the slave holders and freed slaves is tenuous and uncertain. Continued fighting has been observed by SB Sherman who has tried to intervene by shutting down egress in tactically and intentionally meaningful ways. However, civil war is an accurate description of what is happening in Habitat Alpha.”

  “And six other habitats with unknown conditions,” Cammarry muttered. “I wonder what the stories are from those places?”

  5 On the bridge

  Eris stared at the Central Memory Core Gallery. She did not notice the gunk seeping through the material covering her knees as she knelt.

  “All destroyed? Physically demolished? Why would anyone do this? ‘Machines are our greatest allies, and thinking machines our most loyal friends’. They are essential to the Conestoga.”

  Eris looked out over the Central Memory Core Gallery. In the dim light there were shadows and odd silhouettes of where the beautiful machines had once stood. It reminded Eris of the swamp preserve her father and mother had taken her to when she was a child. It looked nothing like the mechanical wonderland she knew from training and orientation. The central memory cores were the physical essence of the artificial intelligence systems on the Conestoga.

  “All gone?” Eris cried as she looked about.

  The gallery was designed using a rigid geometric pattern in the decking. That allowed for an evenly spaced set of twenty platforms. On top of each of those raised stages was the housing for the individual central memory core for each primary artificial intelligence system of the Conestoga. Smaller central memory cores, the ones for the synthetic brains which did secondary and tertiary functions were dispersed and scattered throughout the other parts of the Conestoga. However, the essential heart of the Conestoga’s lattice of artificial intelligence system compeers was the Central Memory Core Gallery. To many of the engineers it was a sacred, nearly holy place. Eris had toured it on many occasions during training, and each time was a special treat. The smooth hum of the cores, along with the amber pulsing of the liquid bubbling inside the twenty upright clear permalloy columns, and the sparkle of the diamond shapes suspended in the middle of each core, added a glittering neatness and opulence to the experience. It was breathtaking and amazing to see where artificial intelligence took place.

  None of that was present as Eris looked. Just broken stumps, and overgrown mounds, covered with growth medium and foliage. Lumps of organics: wet, stinking, and chaotically growing biologicals.

  “No!” Eris cried out and stood up. “This place was supposed to be a harmonization of the chaos. This is where random chance was channeled into purpose. Here was where we creating order. This is the amygdala of the Conestoga.”

  She looked for any part that might be salvageable, but everything was fractured, broken, shattered, and ruined.

  “How is the ship still operating?” Eris said as her mind tried to catalog all the damage. “Life support, gravity manipulation control, and some power systems are still working. Somewhere some part of the Conestoga is still active. The ship is not dead.”

  Stepping away from the doorway which had sealed behind her, she looked at the main entrances. There were burn and melt marks around those doors and frames. Some spots showed evidence of explosions. The damage was extensive.

  Eris looked around and sought something that would explain some aspect of what had happened. That was when she saw in the dim light two sets of footprints in some of the growth medium. The foliage and fungi, were smashed down, but the tracks were clear in a few places. Not being specialized in footwear, she did not notice than the tracks were made by unusual types of shoes. Squatting down next to those impressions, Eris also saw another set of prints, of bare human feet.

  Standing up, she looked for a display, monitor, or panel on any of the walls. She spotted one display, inactive and streaked by water staining, but she walked toward it.

  “Maaa!”

  Eris jumped and her heart raced.

  “Maaa!” The sound came again.

  “Goats? It is only goats. Just more wild animals where they do not belong,” Eris said and placed a hand over her still rapidly beating heart. She took several deep breaths, prayed silently, and looked for the animal.

  It was standing beyond the ruined doors past the burnt doorway. It had a whitish face, with brown and black body. It repeated its call, and then bounced away.

  Eris placed her palm against the inert display. A blue flickering happened, and then it sputtered out. “Not enough power to open a display. Maybe the Command Bridge will be better?” Eris said aloud. “Hey goat! Yes, you! What happened here?”

  She heard a distant bleat, but nothing else.

  “Those people did not know, and now I am asking a goat? Really? Come on Eris, just hold it all together now.” Silently she offered a supplication for guidance.

  Walking through the remains of the Central Memory Core Gallery, Eris left via a ruined doorway. She knew the Command Bridge was nearby, but had little hope. Her mind was running circuits for the secondary systems, and the schematics for the tertiary systems. She had a rough guess on which systems were probably still in operation, but she marveled at how any of it was working without the primary AIs.

  A pressure door was labeled, ‘Command Bridge: Authorized Personnel Only’ in faded off-white lettering. As Eris approached, the door opened about half way a
nd then jammed. She turned sideways and slipped though. Her mind was surprised, as there was no growth medium or foliage. She had expected it to be there, but it was missing from the Command Bridge.

  “Someone has done some repairs,” Eris said. “No, that gunk was never in here. Interesting. Very interesting.” She righted a small chair and sat down at the command countertop. Most of the controls had been crudely removed from the wall leaving jagged gaping holes, but a few places had obvious marks where people had wiped, cleaned, or otherwise did some type of basic upkeep.

  Eris placed her palm against the countertop where she knew the main activation switch had been located. That spot was just dull permalloy now, but she tried anyway. Green light flashed twice under her palm, then a blue glow emanated from the control board. Overhead lights, only three of the multitude which should have increased their lumens in response to her presence, did light up. That greatly increased the illumination of the whole area.