Parker's Folly

by Doug L. Hoffman

  “Captain, I can't find a trace of the alien vessel,” JT reported with considerable uneasiness. “Sir, it's just not there.”

  Chapter 17

  Bridge, Beta Comae Berenices

  Parker's Folly had been in the Beta Comae system for just over ten minutes and its quarry was nowhere to be found. Traveling 1.4 million kph relative to the star's frame of reference, it had moved nearly 250,000 kilometers from its point of emergence.

  “Captain, we are not detecting the presence of the alien ship,” Rajiv said, looking up from the radiation and particle detection readouts. “If it has its drive on we should be detecting the same radiation signature we saw before it disappeared into alter-space.”

  “Optical, infra-red and microwave bands are also negative,” added the frustrated JT. Then a blip on his instruments caught his attention. “Sir! I think I've found a planet.”

  “That's very good, Mr. Taylor. What is its location? Could the alien ship have taken refuge there?” The Captain leaned forward in his chair, concentrating on the annotations flashing into existence over the view forward, marking the planet's position in space.

  “Sir, it registers as a terrestrial type planet about 80% a massive as Earth. Its orbit is approximately 1.15 AU and its position is a third of an orbit beyond our current position—roughly 150 million km. For the alien ship to travel that far at its last known velocity and acceleration, and assuming the need to decelerate to match orbit, call it 35 hours.”

  “So either it beat us here by more than a day, or it has not arrived yet,” the Captain said, thinking out loud.

  “Yes, Sir. If it was still on the way to the planet we would be able to detect it.”

  “Captain!” Rajiv shouted excitedly. “We have just picked up a burst of gamma radiation from the vicinity of the emergence point. I believe that the alien ship may have arrived behind us!”

  “Yes. It is the alien,” added Yuki. “I am detecting the drive signature. Captain, the alien vessel seems to be altering its course. It appears to be heading for the planet JT discovered.”

  So the computer's warning was correct, Jack thought. What else might it know deep within its quantum entangled guts? “Helm, reverse course. Bring the ship to bear on the alien vessel.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  The alien sun dropped from sight as the ship flipped end over end. The star field in front of the ship stabilized, with new holographic numbers and markings identifying the alien craft, invisible to the naked eye at this distance.

  “Sir, you realize that we are now ahead of the alien, traveling away from the target at 350,000 kph. We need to shrink that delta-v, Sir, or our rail gun slugs will never reach the target.”

  “I am aware of that, Mr. Taylor. Engineering, we are about to find out what flank speed, or rather, flank acceleration really is. Mr. Vincent, all ahead flank, let's go catch us an alien.”

  “Aye aye, Captain,” Billy Ray responded enthusiastically.

  “Sir, we are topping out at 30 Gs,” reported the new Chief Engineer. “The reactor and engines are stable, the shields are up and the forward rail guns fully charged.”

  “Excellent, Mr. Medina,” the Captain said, easing back in his chair. “Mr. Vincent, time to intercept.”

  “Sir, we will take 5.6 minutes to achieve zero delta-v with the target, and another 5.6 to reestablish our original closing velocity. If we maintain this acceleration we will intercept in 23.8 minutes.”

  “I sense a ‘but,’ Mr. Vincent.”

  “Sir, we will be closing at 1.8 million kph when we overtake the alien ship, accurately targeting the vessel will be difficult.”

  The Captain nodded, did some math in his head and amended his orders. “Helm, once we have reversed our course vector reduce acceleration to match the target. That should give us how long to intercept, Mr. Vincent?”

  “Total time from the initial turn will be 53.7 minutes. That will keep our closing velocity around 350,000 kph. We should have a workable targeting solution in about 40 minutes.”

  “Very good, Mr. Vincent. Alright people, let's go do what we came to do.”

  * * * * *

  The minutes passed slowly as the crew anticipated drawing within firing range of the alien ship. While everyone on board referred to the main battery as consisting of a pair of rail guns, those guns were only distantly related to the small arms carried by the ship's Marines. Those weapons generate thousands of Gs to accelerate their projectiles while the main battery produced accelerations in the tens of thousands of gravities along its 100 meter length.

  Such acceleration would be problematic if the motive force was applied using electromagnetism. No reasonable projectile could withstand the strain of firing—the rounds would just disintegrate into a cloud of plasma.

  But Folly's main battery was based on gravitonics, which allowed projectiles to be launched using incredible accelerations without destroying their payloads. Even so, the relative velocity of the ship with respect to its target was more important than the velocity the rail guns could impart to their projectiles.

  “Sir, we are coming into firing range,” reported JT.

  “Captain, I have a lock on the target,” added Billy Ray.

  “Main battery, six round salvo. You may fire when ready Mr. Vincent.”

  “Aye aye, Captain, six round salvo,” Billy Ray replied, the ship shook three times in quick succession. The forward holographic overlay showed three pairs of glowing streaks headed toward the invisible target, shrinking to the point of invisibility themselves due to distance and perspective. “Salvo away sir, time to impact 131 seconds.”

  The next two minutes unfolded with glacial slowness, no one dared break the silence. Under his breath, Bobby quietly counted down, “three, two, one...”

  After a slight delay to account for the tardiness of light, a brilliant flair blossomed in front of them, a blinding white ball of destruction that vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

  “That was a direct hit, Sir,” JT reported. The navigation sensors had a better view of the impact than the naked eyes of the bridge crew.

  “Awesome!” Bobby exclaimed, as the helmsmen bumped fists, “we totality pwnd him.”

  “Shift maximum power to the forward shields, Mr. Medina.” the Captain ordered. “Helm, prepare for possible evasive maneuvers. Mr. Taylor, are there any sizable pieces of wreckage?”

  JT consulted radar and LIDAR readouts. “That's a negative, Captain. It looks like the ship was mostly vaporized. Did we really hit it that hard?”

  “I expected to cause major damage,” the Captain replied, “but there should not have been enough energy in those projectiles to totally vaporize the target.”

  “I believe you are correct, Captain,” said Rajiv from his bank of sensors. “The kinetic energy of each of the 10 kg projectiles was equivalent to approximately 15 tons of TNT. It is improbable that all of the rounds struck the vessel—one, maybe two at the most. I believe that the explosion we just witnessed was caused primarily by matter-antimatter annihilation. The radiation signature is quite distinct.”

  “Yes, this reinforces what we suspected about the alien vessel's drive and power source,” Yuki added, backing his fellow physicist's conjecture. “From the explosion on the Moon and the radiation signature of the vessel's drive we suspected this to be so.”

  “Are these science dweebs dissing your gunnery?” Bobby asked Billy Ray in a low whisper. “Naw, pardner,” the lanky Texan replied, “I shot it, I hit it, it blew up. 'Nuf said.”

  The Captain ignored his helmsmen's side conversation, instead questioning the scientists. “You're saying we ruptured its fuel storage, which contained enough antimatter to vaporize the entire ship?”

  “Yes, Captain. We believe that to be the most likely explanation,” Rajiv concluded.

  “I'm glad we didn't come along side and use the X-ray laser batteries.” Jack exhaled slowly, I wish they would tell me these things ahead of time.

  “Yes, indeed, C
aptain.”

  * * * * *

  The crew continued scanning for any large chunks of their vanquished prey, finding nothing. True to the science team's prediction, as the ship's trajectory took it through the area where the alien vessel detonated, no significant pieces of debris were encountered. The shields did register increased gas density and swarms of dust, which at such high relative velocities required a significant amount of energy to deflect.

  “Captain,” called JT. “About five minutes before we fired on the alien, we picked up a radio signal from the vessel. A burst transmission of some form. We only picked it up faintly, I'm guessing that it was highly directional.”

  “A directional signal aimed at what, Mr. Taylor?”

  “At the planet, Sir. I didn't think it all that important at the time, but I'm picking up another signal and this one is coming from the planet.”

  “You're sure, this is a reply to the probe ship's signal?”

  “Fairly sure, Sir. The frequency and encoding are the same, and if you figure out the transmission time to the planet and back—about 8.2 minutes each way—the timing is right.”

  “Do we know what they said to each other?”

  “No idea, Sir.”

  Damn, and I thought we were done here, Jack thought furiously. I need advice about what this might mean. “Lt. Curtis, would you and the science team join me in my sea cabin. Mr. Medina, you have the Conn.”

  “Aye, Sir.” replied Jo Jo, moving to take the command chair as the Captain headed for his cabin.

  Captain's Sea Cabin, Beta Comae System

  The Captain and his advisers all packed snugly into the cabin and shut the door. Jack looked around the room, framing his next remarks carefully. “It would appear that our efforts to prevent the alien probe from reporting to its masters may have failed. I need your best information and speculation regarding our current position before deciding what actions we take next. Let's start with you JT.”

  It is a common practice for commanders to ask for advice starting with the most junior member of their staff. That way the younger officers are not swayed by the opinions of their superiors. Having been in the Army JT knew this but he still felt the pressure of going first.

  “Captain, that planet could be habitable. During the pursuit, I continued scanning the planet for signs of life and found that the atmosphere is somewhat similar to Earth's. It's thinner, primarily nitrogen with about 12% oxygen but there's significantly more CO2 and traces of methane. Just how much I can't tell from this far out.”

  “Are you saying people could live there?” asked Gretchen.

  “Not comfortably, not enough oxygen. And despite being in the middle of the habitable zone the temperatures are 4-5º colder than Earth. It's a lot nicer place than Mars, but definitely not a garden spot. That's not to say that some other species wouldn't find it comfortable.”

  “Do you think that the planet is inhabited? Could the probe have delivered its information in that radio burst?” the Captain asked, focusing on the crux of the matter.

  “Yes and no, Sir. Though it's possible that the transmission contained a report about Earth, I don't think that it was meant for the inhabitants of the planet.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because I don't think there are any.”

  This remark caused the others present to pepper JT with demands for an explanation. The Captain patiently signaled for order and said, “explain.”

  “Well, I've been monitoring all parts of the electromagnetic spectrum since we entered the system. Back home, Earth sends out signals on all sorts of frequencies—radio, TV, microwaves, radar, cellphones, millions of sources. Any advanced inhabited planet would probably do the same, transmit like crazy. Since we've been here, the only transmission I've heard from the planet was the reply to the probe's signal.” JT paused for breath, looking around to check the others' reactions. The Captain made a motion for him to continue.

  “What I'm saying, Captain, is the planet is not inhabited. There may be an alien base on the surface or, more likely, in orbit, but there's no civilization on that world.”

  “Interesting, thank you JT.” The Captain pondered the implications of JT's words for a few seconds and then turned to Yuki. “Dr. Saito, what do you think? Have we failed to contain the alien probe's information or is there still a chance to head it off?”

  “I would say we need to assume the information was passed to whatever installation sent the reply signal. In light of the lack of activity from the planet, I would guess that there is a monitoring site on or around the planet, much like the one we destroyed on the Moon.”

  “And you, Dr Gupta? What are your thoughts?”

  “I concur with my colleagues. If this planet is inhabited by the aliens who built the probe and placed it secretly on our Moon then I would have expected a response to our presence in this system. The aliens are obviously capable of traveling between star systems and must have spaceships of their own. Why have they not responded to our invasion of their space?”

  The Captain nodded and looking at Gretchen raised his eyebrows. “Lt. Curtis?”

  “Sir, I would say we need to investigate more closely. The lack of response from the planet makes me suspect that Rajiv is right—this system probably has a monitoring outpost like our home system did. We haven't detected any other ships like the alien vessel trying to depart the system, have we?”

  “No, Gretchen,” responded Rajiv, “we would have detected the drive signature of anything similar to the probe we just destroyed.”

  “So we have an uninhabited planet, probably with a monitoring station nearby and, as far as we can tell, nothing has left the system. In short, the situation may still be contained if we can destroy the local monitoring station.”

  The assembled advisers all nodded agreement. The Captain pressed his fingers together, their tips pointing upward. Closing his eyes, Jack brought his steepled fingers to just touch his pursed lips, as though he was a child praying. From experience, Gretchen knew this posture as an indication of deep thought—or perhaps he was actually praying for guidance. Uneasy silence pervaded the group. Finally, Jack dropped his hands to the table and cleared his throat.

  “Very well. We will proceed to the planet for a closer look. Any other suggestions?”

  “Yes, Captain,” Rajiv immediately offered. “If I might suggest that we follow a course similar to that which the probe would have followed? I believe that we can detune the reactor grid slightly and produce a signature similar to the one of the alien vessel. That way, if we are detected, the station might think we are the probe.”

  “Yes, that makes sense. The crew will not be endangered and the ship's performance will be unaffected?”

  “Oh no, we will be perfectly safe. And the instant we need full power the grid can be restored.”

  “And how long will it take us to arrive at the planet? Mr. Taylor?”

  JT consulted his tablet. “We are below the local plane of the ecliptic and about one AU away. At 5 Gs and a turnover half way, we can make orbit in a little more than 32 hours.”

  “Very well. Let's proceed with the mission. Dismissed.”

  Bridge, Beta Comae System, Day 2

  It is astounding how large a solar system is. Though the Folly had just past 30 light-years in a week by slipping through alter-space, it was now faced with a voyage of only eight light minutes that would take more than a day. Still, any previous spacecraft launched by humans would have required months to make the same trip. The crew stood down from general quarters for 24 hours. Now, as the ship drew near the mysterious Earth-like world, the rapid bleating of the klaxon once again summoned all on board to their battle stations.

  “Captain, I think you might want to have a look at this,” JT called from the navigation console. “Dr. Tropsha and I have been analyzing the planet, looking for signs of an active ecology. There's more going on here than is immediately obvious.”

  “Something on the big scope? Put it on the
forward display,” the Captain ordered. The view forward was replace by an image captured by the ship's large telescope, which was capable of nearly Hubble like magnification and clarity. Hanging in front of the bridge was a closeup view of a dun colored planet, with sizable ice caps at either pole. A scattering of small seas were flung haphazardly across the landscape and a few wispy clouds streamed from where moist sea breezes caressed worn mountain ranges.

  Ludmilla, who had come to the bridge to help JT present their findings, nodded to the newest member of the science team and continued the explanation. “We are both in agreement—this is a nearly dead world. If there is anything alive down there it must be at the microbial level. There may be bacterial mats in shallow water, perhaps some sponges in the deeps, but nothing large or complex.”

  “Is there a reason that would be unusual? After all, the right conditions for developing complex life may never have occurred.” Jack was spellbound by the desolation sweeping across the projection before him.

  “Well, Sir. That's the bitch of it. This world used to be alive, perhaps as thriving with life as Earth.”

  “What!” Everyone on the bridge was stunned, not least the Captain. “How can you tell?”

  “From this,” JT's years as a camera man had given him a feel for the dramatic. As he spoke he zoomed the image in and then panned across the coastline of one of the larger seas. Faint lines and faded circular outlines could barely be seen. Concentric traces mostly centered on points near the coast, with linear marks radiating into the interior. Slowly, those viewing the tableau before them deciphered the meaning of those markings.

  “My God,” Jack said. “Those were cities. With networks of roads or railways connecting them. But now they are all dead—buildings worn to nubs and only a hint of connecting roadways. What in heaven's name happened here?”