Derelict_Destruction

by Paul E. Cooley

  He shook the thought away. Dunn had his reasons. Probably Black had given him misinformation or, more likely, finally figured out it was an impossibility. Fucking AIs always had the right answer after people were dead. The flame grew a little brighter.

  “Excuse me, sir?” Copenhaver’s voice shattered the interior monologue.

  Nobel turned from the skiff to face the SV-52. Both she and Murdock stood next to the vehicle. With the grav-plate set to negative power, the craft floated two meters above the deck, affording plenty of space to weld and repair. “What is it?”

  The private’s eyes burned with intensity. “I think we’re finished, sir.”

  “Diagnostics?” Even as he asked the question, he brought up the report on his block. Pressure tests checked out, hull integrity was at 100%, and avionics were operating as expected.

  “Aye, sir. All in the green,” Copenhaver said.

  Nobel nodded. “Good work,” he said. “Now. Let’s get back to getting this sled ready.”

  The two marines rattled off “aye” and walked to the makeshift platform. There wasn’t much left to do. Fixing Taulbee’s craft had only put them a few minutes off schedule. Nobel checked the blueprints and made a quick list of the remaining parts.

  The platform for the beacon was mostly finished. Since no human pilot would be hitching a ride on it, and it didn’t require a cabin or life support, the rectangular sled needed little in the way of amenities. They still needed to attach a few more thrusters and begin programming the on-board computer, but Black could probably take care of that for them in a nanosecond or two. Nobel grunted to himself. Rather than trusting this job to the AI, he’d handle it himself. When he was done, he’d make sure Black took a look at the programming and ran a testing harness. He could at least trust her to do that.

  He turned back to the printer and sent a new set of instructions. In a few seconds, the printer would begin churning out more parts. A flare of pain rose from his leg, causing him to grimace. After they finished this, he was getting off his feet for a while. He had a bad feeling more repairs were just around the corner. Especially if the captain was sending Gunny’s squad and Taulbee back out again.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  He didn’t have time to take off the combat suit and rest. He didn’t have time to lay down for a quick nap. No. He didn’t have time for any of that. And he sure as shit didn’t have time to hide in the corner and weep. Nope. No time for that either.

  When he’d seen Taulbee and the captain talking in the galley, he’d made his way to the head and taken care of waste offload. He knew whatever was being said was none of his business. When he returned to the galley, the two officers had departed. But Wendt was there.

  The large marine stood next to the drink dispenser, his hands wrapped around a mag-mug of steaming coffee. When he saw Gunny enter, Wendt stiffened slightly before nodding to him. “Gunny.”

  Gunny said nothing. Wendt moved aside as Gunny pulled a hydration pouch from the dispenser, activated the nipple, and drank deeply. The cold water trickled down his throat and belly with a welcome chill. He felt Wendt’s stare and met his gaze. “Something to say?”

  “Aye,” Wendt said. “There wasn’t anything you could do, Gunny.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes, I am,” Wendt said. “More on me than you.”

  “Really?” Gunny growled. “How do you figure?”

  Wendt shrugged. “Maybe if I’d hit that fucking thing in the right place before it slammed into the hull, we could have neutralized it before it—”

  “Shut up,” Gunny said. “You did your fucking job, Wendt. You did your job and we both got away.”

  “Aye,” Wendt agreed. “And you did your job. That shit could have eaten you too.”

  Gunny stared at the hydration pouch as he fought the urge to slam it into the nearest bulkhead. He’d lost marines before. Shit, he’d forgotten just how many.

  “Gunny?”

  The word dispersed the whirlpool of thoughts and he once again raised his eyes to Wendt’s. “What is it, marine?”

  A smile tugged at Wendt’s lips. “There’s not a void-damned marine in this company that doesn’t trust and respect you. We put our lives in your hands, just as we put our lives in the hands of the rest of the command crew. Every. Single. Fucking. Mission.”

  Gunny sneered. “What’s your point?”

  “That you need to get your shit together,” Wendt said. His eyes narrowed. “Or none of us is going to get out of this alive.”

  The words stung him like a slap from an armored glove. He opened his mouth in surprise, unable to believe some fuckup like Wendt had said them. A fucking lance corporal telling him to get his shit together? Gunny crumpled the hydration pouch. The recyclable polymer bag split beneath the force and water splashed in all directions. He flung the remains to the deck, not even noticing the squelching sound it made. Gunny stepped forward to Wendt, his glaring eyes staring up at the taller man.

  “The fuck did you say to me, marine?”

  Wendt lowered his head until he looked directly down at his NCO. “Get your shit together, Gunny,” he said.

  Gunny’s fists clenched twice before he rocketed a strong right into Wendt’s chin. The tall marine stumbled backward, and for a moment, he thought Wendt would lose his balance and crash into the deck. Wendt moaned, his hands covering his face. “Fuck, that hurt,” Wendt said and dropped his hands. His face held a burning grin. “And that’s a hell of a lot better.”

  A message from the captain appeared across his block. He was wanted in the conference room. Gunny sent an acknowledgment while he held his furious stare with his subordinate.

  “Go fuck yourself, Wendt,” he spat. He pointed down at the deck. “Clean that shit up before I bust you down to a fucking private.” He turned on his heel and left the galley. As he walked to the conference room, he realized he felt a little better. He wanted to think it was from finally hitting something, someone, anything to feel pain instead of the wretched emptiness inside. But he had to admit. It was Wendt’s words.

  “Fucker needs a promotion,” Gunny growled to himself. Suddenly, he couldn’t stop grinning.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Taulbee sat across from the captain, a 3-D holographic image of Mira floating between them. Gunny knocked on the hatch before entering and Taulbee yelled for him to come in. The grizzled sergeant entered and took a seat after Dunn said, “Please, join us.” Gunny looked under control, but probably felt the same way he did. The anger, frustration, and second-guessing that happened after losing a marine was enough to drive anyone insane or into a tailspin of depression. But Gunny was handling it. For now.

  Dunn leaned forward and tented his hands on the table. “Been a long day, gentlemen. So I’ll get to it. Oakes is minding the ship and Nobel is still working in the cargo bay, so it’s just the three of us.”

  Taulbee could tell the captain was trying to keep them calm and communicate he felt the same way they did without coming out and saying it. It didn’t make Taulbee feel any better about the situation, but it at least put things into perspective. The entire company was hurting, but everyone still had to do their jobs. He fought a sigh and focused his eyes on the captain’s through the translucent holographic model.

  “Black tells me the beacon is a very real threat,” Dunn said. “And due to the stresses and fractures on Mira’s hull, it’s impossible to tow her.” He paused for a moment and Taulbee thought he heard a slight hitch in the captain’s throat. “I wish I’d figured that out before sending the two of you out there to try the tow.” Neither of the marines spoke. “Nobel is building a sled to transport the beacon to Pluto.”

  “Pluto, sir?” Gunny asked.

  Dunn shrugged. “As good a place as any. It’s lifeless, locked in orbit around Sol, and anything that goes there isn’t going anywhere else. At least not without SFMC having plenty of warning.”

  “The beacon,” Taulbee said, “attracts those things
.”

  “Yes,” Dunn agreed. “According to the data Kalimura retrieved, and the observations of Mira’s scientists, the signal it produces is like a dinner bell. The creatures follow that signal and take up residence where they can. Just to be near it.”

  The room fell silent. Taulbee pulled his gaze from Dunn’s and stared at the model. Mira. Her crew had brought the beacon aboard and killed everyone in the process. And then they spread that danger into Sol System. He wondered if they even realized what they had done and what the repercussions would be. No, he thought, they probably died thinking it was over.

  “So,” Dunn said, “we need to retrieve the beacon, put it on the sled, and crash the bastard into Pluto.”

  “Why do all that, sir?” Gunny asked. “Why can’t we just send it back where it came from?”

  “Good question,” Dunn said. “I asked Black the same thing. Black has run the scenarios and the chances for success don’t pan out the way you’d think. If the sled was pulled off course by a stray Kuiper Object or some other anomaly, we’d have no way of knowing until it was too late. In other words, knowing precisely where the beacon is will keep it safe. And hopefully Sol System as well.”

  “Pardon me, Captain,” Taulbee said. “Can’t we just turn the fucking thing off?”

  “You mean with the key Kalimura’s team found?”

  “Yes,” Taulbee said. “Can’t we just do that?”

  Dunn shrugged. “It’s another risk. Even if we turn it off, the exo-solar lifeforms aboard Mira would still remain a threat to Sol System.”

  “Not if we destroy the ship, sir,” Gunny said, his voice tinged with frustrated anger.

  “And that’s another problem,” Dunn said. “We don’t know if those lifeforms will survive a detonation. We also don’t know how many are aboard.”

  “Shit,” Taulbee said. When Dunn swung his eyes toward him, he blushed. “Sorry, sir. Hadn’t really considered that.”

  “The Trio gave us weapons, sir,” Gunny said. “Shouldn’t they be enough to wipe these things out?”

  Dunn paused for a moment. “The things aboard Mira aren’t the only problem. We have a KBO coming in. We don’t know what it is, but Black and Mickey seem to think it’s not just a piece of rock and ice coming at us. It changed trajectory after we slowed Mira down.”

  Oh, shit, Taulbee thought. “There’s more of them?”

  “Unknown,” Dunn said. “But I think it’s a good bet.”

  “Excuse me, sir,” Black said over the speakers, “I have an update from Mickey. May I put it on the holographic display?”

  “Be my guest, Black,” Dunn said.

  The model of Mira melted into an empty starfield. The view zoomed out into a spherical map of grid lines. Small yellow dots appeared in various locations on the 3D map along with notations for velocity and vector.

  “What am I looking at, Black?”

  “Captain, the highlighted points on the map represent KBOs that are traveling toward our position. They are moving at a speed that puts them less than 1.5 hours away from Mira. Their velocity has not changed, but their trajectories have. It’s as if they are moving to intercept the ship at its future position rather than its current location.”

  “Shit,” Taulbee muttered. “Have any good news?”

  Black ignored him. “The number of KBOs appears to be increasing in number.”

  Gunny’s face pinched into a mask of rage. “And why didn’t we know about this before? Can’t you see the fucking things?”

  “Alas, no, Gunnery Sergeant,” Black said. “My sensors are not powerful enough to track these objects as they approach. They are far too small for that. Mickey estimates the largest of the objects is roughly 100 meters in diameter, although that is his best guess.”

  “That’s why it’s called an estimate,” Taulbee said. “Where does Mickey say these things are coming from?”

  “That is the perplexing part, Lieutenant. Mickey has attempted to backtrack their origin points based on the current locations, their speed, and the trajectory adjustments they are making. The objects appear to have been in the Kuiper Belt the entire time.”

  Dunn leaned back in his chair, mouth open. Taulbee felt as though he’d been kicked in the balls. “They were always here?” he asked.

  “Possibly,” Black said. “According to historical astronomical records, the Kuiper Belt was considered a very empty portion of Sol System. Unlike the asteroid belt, the number of KBOs discovered was relatively low. Less than 200,000 for the entire belt, which as you know, is considerable in size.

  “When PEO came online and began its comprehensive scans of the belt, that number rose into the millions. Astronomers have wondered for the better part of a hundred years how the instruments in the Common Era, unsophisticated as they were, missed such a large amount of solar debris. It would seem we now have an answer.”

  “Bullshit,” Dunn said. “Mira didn’t leave Sol System until 50 years ago. PEO discovered the crowding long before Mira departed for Proxima and the ship didn’t encounter the beacon for seven years after it departed. How could these things be here if it took the beacon to attract them?”

  “Unknown, Captain. However, I do have a theory,” Black said. “It is possible that the objects were sent into our space long ago in anticipation of the beacon’s arrival.”

  Taulbee blinked. “Who the fuck would do that?”

  “Again, sir, unknown. The beacon was obviously created by an exo-solar intelligence. Until Mira’s arrival, humanity was unaware of other life in the galaxy, let alone living in proximity to our system. Sol System resides far from the galactic core on the Milky Way’s Orion arm. We are located more than halfway down the length of the arm and at its inner edge. If our galaxy were an ocean, we would be nothing more than a tidal pool on a sandbar. Infinitely small in comparison.”

  “What’s your point, Black?” Taulbee asked.

  “Perhaps the beacon was created to spread life across the galaxy. Or attract it.”

  He shook his head. “If that’s the case, then why didn’t the damned thing get here a lot sooner? If this shit has been hanging around waiting for it, why didn’t it show up centuries ago? Or hell, millennia ago?”

  Black paused for a moment. The display cleared and then refreshed. Seven dark objects appeared on the screen, faraway stars glittering like chips of ice in the sun. “Mira discovered these planetoids. Although I cannot prove it, I believe the Trio and Mira’s mission planners already knew about them. Which is why they sent Mira on the trajectory they did.”

  “Bullshit,” Gunny said. “You’re talking about a solar-level conspiracy to keep that information hidden. It would be impossible to create that kind of cover-up.”

  “No,” Dunn said, his voice lifeless. “It would be easy.”

  Taulbee cocked his head and looked at the captain. “How so, sir?”

  “The Trio. They run everything out here. They are responsible for processing and coordinating the data transfer from PEO, Trident Station, and damned near every nanoprobe and satellite we have traveling the Kuiper Belt and beyond. If they decided to keep that information from the rest of us, we’d have no way of knowing. All it would take is for them to massage or omit the data.”

  “Agreed, Captain,” Black said. “But I don’t believe the Trio would engage in that behavior unless specifically ordered to.”

  “Ordered by whom?” Gunny said.

  “SF Gov,” Black said. “Or the SF Military. It’s impossible to say.”

  Taulbee shook his head and chuckled. Gunny and Dunn both stared at him, their faces slack. He felt their stare and glared at the planetoids on the display. “Mira was supposed to be humanity’s last shot at finding resources before we exhaust Sol System. Another five hundred years and we won’t have the materials to even create ships, let alone keep our existing infrastructure online. It explains why Mira has shuttle bays, a refinery, and all the mining equipment.”

  “Agreed, Lieutenant,” Black said. “Mira
wasn’t searching for resources. She was sent to explore the viability of those resources humanity had already found.”

  “And the beacon?” Dunn asked.

  “I have a theory,” Black continued, “that the beacon was supposed to arrive millennia ago. Perhaps even longer. Perhaps just after the planets formed. The data gathered by Corporal Kalimura’s squad indicates the beacon was found in a crater on one of the planetoids. It’s very likely the beacon crashed into the planetoid before reaching its destination.”

  “Void wept,” Gunny said. “Are you even certain we were the target?”

  “No,” Black said. “It is impossible to know the actual intent or destination for the beacon. All of this is conjecture, albeit formed from the evidence currently available.”

  “Evidence currently available,” Taulbee echoed. He felt as though his brain was going to explode. Aliens sent the fucking thing to Sol? To what? Populate it? Spread life to this arm of the galaxy? It was completely insane. Black had obviously lost her mind.

  Or had she? The more he thought about it, the more it made some sort of sense. If aliens were trying to spread life through their galactic backyard, what better way than leading the bottom of the food chain to a new biome? Let it take root and attract more complex lifeforms?

  “Black?” Taulbee said. “We’ve seen a pretty serious size differential in both the pinecones and the starfish creatures. That last one that attacked me was much larger than the one we encountered earlier.”

  “Agreed,” the AI said.

  “So what’s to say these aren’t, shit, I don’t know, maybe analogs to what made up the biome of our ocean?”

  Black thought for a moment. The planetoids disappeared from the holo display and a scrawl of writing replaced them. The words “the tide is coming in!” scrawled in frozen, crimson lines stared at them. A pair of suit lights illuminated the bulkhead’s frozen surface on which the words had been written. Well, written was being kind. More like painted with one or more gloveless fingers.

  Taulbee stared at the image with an open mouth. Gunny shifted in his chair and Dunn blinked at them.