Another set of thrusters fired. Mira vomited wreckage from the missing plates in her stern. From this distance, it was impossible to determine exactly what had happened, much less what had been dislodged.
“Captain,” he said, “a whole lot of junk was just jettisoned.”
“Acknowledged. Black was just about to tell you about it.”
Taulbee rolled his eyes. “Aye, sir.”
“We have two more thruster burns. Hold tight.”
“Copy that, sir,” Taulbee said. His fingers tightened on the throttle and thruster controls. If Mira’s deck plates continued to fracture under the strain of the thruster pressure, there was no telling what else could break free; he might have to move the ‘52 in a hurry.
The two additional thruster burns didn’t cause any more damage that he could see. At least not from this angle. Until he traveled to the starboard side of the derelict, it was impossible to know if additional plates had come loose, and if there were any fresh punctures in the hull.
Regardless of the damage, Taulbee grinned. Mira was stabilizing. The rotation had definitely slowed. “Black? What’s her rotation?”
Mira’s tumble is now at 360° every five hours.
“How many more thruster burns do we have?”
We have five thrusters that still have fuel, Lieutenant. However, due to the damage, I have recommended we attempt to harness the ship.
The easy grin on his face disappeared. “You’re suggesting we take what we can get.”
Yes, Lieutenant. I’m uncertain as to whether additional burns are worth further risk to Mira’s superstructure. And, as you know, we are running out of time.
Time. Yes. They were on a clock before a very large Kuiper Belt Object entered the area and threatened both Mira and S&R Black. They had to fly the two ships out of danger. Once they were underway, he could search for the missing marines without delay.
Black’s voice suddenly broke across the general comms. “Warning. My sensors are picking up radiation from Mira’s aft.”
“Radiation?” Dunn asked. “What kind of--?”
Taulbee’s feeds turned to static, as did his communications. A flare of bright light lit up the darkness for a brief instant. His HUD filters dampened the flare’s intensity, but the afterimage still scarred his vision. Radiation alerts flashed across his HUD complete with warning bells. The static on the comm channels disappeared and the camera feeds came back to life.
“What the hell was that?” Taulbee yelled through the comms.
“Black?” Dunn asked. “Where did that come from? And what was it?”
“A short burst of gamma radiation,” Black said.
“Where was it directed?” Dunn asked.
Black paused. “The burst was directed in roughly the same direction from which Mira approached Sol System.”
Taulbee blinked. “So back toward Proxima Centauri?”
“No, Lieutenant. Toward where Mira came from.”
He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. Mira was supposed to travel to Proxima, but that didn’t mean it ever made it there. Damn, but Black could confuse him.
“Are we in any danger?” Dunn asked.
“No, Captain,” Black said. “The radiation was very short-lived and very directed. I doubt much of the energy affected Mira’s superstructure.”
“Any idea what could cause that?” Dunn asked. “I thought the reactors were dead.”
“They are, Captain,” Black said. “Source of the radiation is unknown. However, I am detecting a loss of bandwidth across all communication spectrums. It’s not presently enough to hinder radio or block transmissions, but it does shorten the effective range.”
“Understood,” the captain said. “Gunny?”
“Aye, sir?”
“Keep a watch on your rad counters. Black? If any of the harness anchor points are in that direction, find an alternative.”
“Yes, Captain,” Black said.
Nervous energy thrummed in Taulbee’s veins. He’d been in a hurry to get to Mira’s bow from the moment he towed Gunny’s skiff in half an hour ago. He had to find Kalimura and her squad, especially if Mira was trying to fry them. “Captain. Permission to fly to the bow and check for survivors.”
“Granted, Lieutenant. Gunny’s squad will depart momentarily. Once they reach Mira, I want you to help cover the harness placement.”
“Understood, sir. Taulbee out.
He oriented the SV-52 to put it on a course for Mira’s bow and hit the throttle. As the craft rocketed away from S&R Black, Taulbee focused on the warning lights on his HUD. Debris was ahead of him. This was going to be a fun flight.
Chapter Four
The view from the cockpit wasn’t much to look at. S&R Black floated parallel to Mira; the 500 meters separating the two ships felt as though it was too far, and not far enough. The ship creeped him out. He’d seen the holo feeds of the strange pinecone-like objects clinging to the hull, the broken and fractured deck plates, and the curious damage to its aft.
He kept track of the feeds from the starboard side cameras showing him the firing of the stabilization jets Gunny’s squads had affixed to the giant ship. S&R Black’s AI, simply known as “Black,” had handled the firing sequence to minimize damage to their mission target, but Oakes had been more than a little interested to see how that process went. After all, if one of the stabilization packs malfunctioned, debris could rebound straight at S&R Black as though shot from a cannon.
After the jets fired, pieces of hull, decking, and who knew what else, spewed into space as if Mira had vomited. Luckily for him, the largest hazards flew from Mira’s starboard side far away from S&R Black. He’d still have to monitor the area, but, for now at least, he needed to focus on one thing--finding the source of the communications interference.
Corporal Kalimura’s squad, consisting of LCpls Elliott, Dickerson, and Carbonaro, was somewhere aboard the derelict. Communications with the squad were in a complete blackout. Black had received a signal from Kalimura’s block and the AI was certain that she, at least, had survived the wreck of their skiff. But since the energy pulse from Mira, long-range communication was spotty at best. Even if Kalimura found a way to send a signal, he wasn’t sure they’d pick it up through the interference.
Nobel, the ship’s engineer, had already headed to his diagnostic console in the bowels of the ship. He and the AI were trying to determine if a small radiation leak was responsible for the interference. Oakes very much doubted that it was. So did Nobel. Black, a little odd since its software upgrade on Titan Station, had thought it a long shot too, but didn’t have any other suggestions.
Oakes shivered. He’d worked with Black for as long as he’d been assigned to the ship. The AI, barely sentient, but serviceable, had always been friendly, diligent, and logical. But since the upgrade? Well, something wasn’t right with her. Black spoke more like, well, a human. No. That wasn’t right. More sentient. More like the Trident Station AIs, known as the Trio. Those AIs were much closer to human than Oakes liked. And now Black acted very much like them.
He swiped away the starboard cam feeds and replaced them with energy scans of the immediate area. Oakes felt as though he’d already done this a hundred times, but hell, what else did he have to do? The captain was behind him, presumably catching up on diagnostic reports, calculating their next steps, and dealing with messages from Colonel Heyes back on Trident Station. Until the captain gave him something better to do, tracking down the interference was the only responsible use of his time.
Sighing, Oakes stared at the control board. He’d already scanned for heat, bursts of cosmic radiation, and the standard battery of usual jamming frequencies. Nothing. One astronomical unit (AU) from Pluto, they were the only ship out here. Apart from Mira, nothing human-made shared their space. And Mira was as lifeless as an asteroid, at least when it came to energy readings.
Oakes frowned. Radar. Laser. All his sensors said no signals. Christ, what was he missing?
What frequencies could he possibly test now?
He initiated a private block connection to Black.
Yes, Lieutenant? the AI said in his mind.
What am I missing? I’ve tried nearly everything here.
The AI paused. Perhaps “nearly” isn’t enough.
Oakes rolled his eyes. Before the upgrade, he’d never wanted to punch Black in her virtual face. But now? It was an urge during every one of their conversations. Are you suggesting something?
Yes, Lieutenant, the AI said in a flat, emotionless tone. Sensor logs indicate you are thinking in terms of an enemy.
Of course I am, Oakes said.
It wasn’t present in the AI’s words, but Oakes felt Black’s frustration through the intimate connection. The Kuiper Belt has no human enemies for you to scan, she said. The Kuiper Belt is filled with objects of various compositions that may be the remnants of Sol System’s creation. However, it is likely some of these bodies are Exo-solar in nature and therefore their composition is impossible to guess. Regardless, the majority of Kuiper Belt Objects haven’t been surveyed even by the Pluto Exo-observatory.
Oakes didn’t sigh out loud, but through the connection. Your point?
My point, Lieutenant, is that you need to abandon your preconceptions as to both the source of the interference as well as the type.
Source. Type. You said various compositions. Like what?
The AI seemed to smile. The sensation sent a shiver up his spine. Ice. Various gases frozen into objects of differing sizes and formation. Previous studies indicate the presence of frozen methane, water, and ammonia.
He blinked. I don’t see how any of those could generate interference.
Correct, Black said. While the majority of KBOs may be ice, that is not to say they all are. Before PEO began surveying the belt more than 70 years ago, it was unknown that the belt’s size is hardly finite as new objects seem to appear in the belt now and again.
From where? he asked.
Black paused. Unknown, it said. Humankind lacks the number of observatories necessary to ascertain when new arrivals appear, let alone their source or composition. A new KBO could arrive this very moment and PEO would be unaware of it for days, months, or longer. By the time a KBO is trapped in Sol’s gravitational field, their incoming trajectory is forever lost.
Oakes tapped a finger on the chair arm. He understood what the AI was getting at, but that didn’t exactly help with an explanation. Let’s try again, he said. KBOs might have exo-solar origins.
Yes, Black said.
And if they are, there is no telling what their composition is.
Correct, the AI said. And without exhaustive sensor readings, as well as physical samples, it is impossible to guess whether or not their outer shells are indicative of their core.
“Shit,” he mumbled aloud. Rolling his eyes, he looked backward at Dunn to make sure the captain hadn’t heard him. Dunn was busy with his own private holo-display. Okay, he told the AI, then let’s think of the asteroid belt. Most asteroids are composed of metal.
Yes, the AI said.
So what’s to say a KBO can’t have metallic components as well. We can’t rule it out.
That is correct, Lieutenant, Black said. But you’re also thinking too small.
Frustrated, Oakes growled low in his throat. He felt the AI bristle at the emotion. Black? I liked it better when you stopped asking leading questions and just told me what the fuck was going on.
This, the AI said, is not fact. This is conjecture and therefore I’m merely preparing you for my less-than-factual conclusions.
Well then, he said in his mind, get on with it.
Centuries-old theoretical models predicted new elements with atomic numbers well beyond what humankind has thus far observed. Couple that concept with theoretical stable isotopes of common elements not thus far observed, then it’s possible that both theories are true in the context of exo-solar material.
He blinked. Very interesting, Black. But unless I’m mistaken, you’re not exactly outfitted with sensors to find new elements.
Sadly, no, the AI said. However, I do have sensors capable of finding traces of more common elements such as oxygen, carbon, ferrous metals, and a slew of other compounds used to create munitions as well as interplanetary craft such as myself.
Then we’re looking for something that doesn’t fit expectations?
Correct, Black said. Jamming radio waves isn’t difficult. However, my sensors show no evidence of jamming our most commonly used communication methods.
And we’re not experiencing significant cosmic ray radiation, Oakes said. So we can rule that out.
Agreed, Black said. However, I believe we are looking for something in that spectrum.
Oakes tilted his head. Please elaborate.
He felt Black take the AI equivalent of a breath. He’d felt Portunes do that before, but never the ship’s AI. The PEO AI, Mickey, first detected Mira via its distress signal. However, one of the telescopes caught a burst of light emanating from Mira. Mickey proposed the source of the anomaly to be the result of light reflecting from Pluto. The Trio is in full agreement that this is not only unlikely, but close to impossible.
And what did the Trio propose?
They didn’t, Black said. However, while we traveled from Trident Station to Pluto, the Trio put forth a theory that the light burst was due to a mass release of photons. Source unknown. I would say we just witnessed another such burst.
Oakes frowned. So this isn’t the first time Mira has spat out this kind of radiation.
No, Black agreed. However, my sensors have detected no such radiation since we arrived in the outer Kuiper Belt. Although the phenomenon may be cyclical in nature, its frequency is not known.
“Mass release of photons?” That sounded like a nuclear explosion or a reactor meltdown to Oakes. Black? The damage done to Mira’s aft section? Is there any way of knowing when it occurred?
He felt the AI hesitate through the mental connection. There should be, Black said, but I will have to think on that.
Fine, Oakes said. Meanwhile, I’m going to run some sensor sweeps in that area. Maybe the evidence is behind us rather than around us.
Good suggestion, Black said. If you need assistance, do not hesitate to ask.
He terminated the block connection. His back hurt. He realized he’d hunched forward during the conversation with Black as though he’d been in a shouting match. Forcing himself to lean back, he uttered a low sigh of relief. Without Black’s presence in his mind, he could finally concentrate. The AI wasn’t as helpful as she’d been on previous trips. Oakes wondered if he shouldn’t stop relying upon her for anything.
He turned in his chair to look at the captain. Dunn was still lost in his own private holo-display. He opened his mouth to speak, and then stopped himself. He turned back to his own display with a frown. Best to be sure. He’d run the diagnostics himself. He’d run the sensor sweeps. He’d do it all as manually as he could and then ask Black to do it again. He’d compare the results. Then he’d tell the captain.
“Let’s find that interference,” he said to no one and dived back into the holo-display.
Chapter Five
By the time Dickerson reached the shuttle, he was feeling a little better. The fuzziness in his brain had abated a bit more and he no longer felt like he’d been hit in the head with a rifle butt. The nannies were doing their jobs. Now, if only they could get Elliott to an autodoc, they’d be in much better shape. Of course, that meant he had to survive long enough for them to find one or for S&R Black Company to save them.
“I’m at the shuttle,” he said.
“Good,” Kalimura said over the comms. “We have Elliott back in his suit. He has pressure, but I have no idea for how long.”
“Copy that,” Dickerson said. “I’m ready when you are.”
As soon as he finished the words, he saw the red light on the side of the shuttle doors turn green. A sliver of bright white light app
eared at the bottom of the cargo bay door. His HUD adjusted to the brightness, but the first sight of it had already left a glowing afterimage on his retinas. He blinked several times while the door continued to rise.
Elliott’s unconscious body lay across Kali’s outstretched arms. Cursing, Dickerson moved forward to take him from her. “Help Carb. I’ve got him,” the corporal said.
He paused for a second, sighed, and walked to Carbonaro. She held out an arm to him.
“Escorting a lady,” Carb said, “you must be so proud.”
“Shut up,” Dickerson said with a smile. If she was giving him shit, she must be feeling better. He took her arm and carefully mag-walked her out of the shuttle’s cargo bay.
Once he and Carbonaro were a few meters from the shuttle, Kali’s suit thrusters fired. She and her charge floated through the air and toward the far wall. He watched in awe as she expertly maneuvered in z-g to not only stop herself from hitting the wall, but changing the direction she faced. Another puff from the suit, and she gently landed on the deck, her knees absorbing the shock.
“Damn,” Dickerson said. “That was impressive.”
“Come on,” Kalimura said, her voice flat and monotonic. “It’s up ahead?”
“Yeah,” Dickerson said. “Just keep going. You’ll see it.”
Kalimura didn’t respond except to mag-walk further into the gloom. Dickerson wanted to say something else, but stopped himself. The corporal was obviously in the zone. It’s a place you need to get to, a voice said in his mind. Because right now, you’re acting like this is no big deal. No big deal. Right. They were stuck on a ship that had no oxygen, no gravity, no power, and they had no idea how damaged the interior was. Now was not the time to fuck around.
He and Carbonaro walked in lockstep, his arm still around her waist. After a few steps, she swatted it away. “I’m fine,” she said over the private comms.
“Are you? How’s your head?”
“A little fuzzy,” Carb said, “but I think I’ll be okay.”
“Took a while for me to feel like I hadn’t been kicked in the head,” he said.
Derelict: Tomb (Derelict Saga Book 2) Page 4
