“Do you think they will consider what we are proposing?”
“It is possible. I think there is a good chance I can at least convince them to allow a human only force to begin making attacks on enemy held territory. I'm not sure if alliance troops can be allowed to participate or not. I will suggest it. You must realize, however, that most of the citizens of the alliance would probably rather see it destroyed by an enemy than destroyed by its own military and political leadership.” Ktenu stood, bowed his head slightly to Drogue and walked out of the meeting room.
“We didn't even get on to the second and third raid proposals, sir,” Hanlon said, “I don't understand how they can be so fixated on maintaining a moral high ground when their entire way of life is about to be destroyed.”
“Do we have enough officers and crew in the expeditionary force to crew the proposed offensive fleet and complete the raids with humans only?”
“I believe so. We may have to rely on somewhat higher levels of automation than we're usually comfortable with. There will also be far less redundancy in the crews themselves, of course.”
“We'll hold out for a human only force, at least. With any luck, they'll come around to our way of thinking once they see how effective it is. If they don't, I can't see how we can hold the crabs off long enough to keep their society going.”
“I know, sir. I agree completely.”
Hanlon and Drogue worked well into the night, trying to find a way of defeating the crabs without destroying the moral fiber of the alliance.
Chapter 5
Rampart drifted slowly inward towards Buckman's star. After five hours, the search effort was yielding very little. The origin signal appeared to be coming from everywhere in the system at once.
Commodore Stokes sat in his command chair, fighting the urge to drum his fingers. “What's our progress, Miss Simmons?”
“We've navigated about eleven percent of the system so far, and current projection shows the scan taking another two and a half days to complete, give or take, sir.”
“Two and a half days?”
“Sixty-one hours to be exact. I-” She paused when a young enlisted man tapped on her shoulder. “One moment, sir.” She turned and listened to the young man speaking quietly for a few seconds. She returned her attention to the commodore and said, “Sir, specialist Jackson has found something he thinks may be of note. Specialist, please brief the commodore.”
Jackson gulped as he turned his eyes from Simmons to Stokes. He took a deep breath, visibly calmed himself and looked Stokes directly. “Sir, I was running a wave form analysis and then comparing it to an infrared decay rate graph, just playing with the new sensor suite, really. It has such a massive range and the spectrum analysis computer makes macro analyses so easy I just figured I would cross reference a full spectrum scan and see if there was any kind of vector analysis or energy waveform shift in a specific band -urk!” He stopped and stared as Simmons, who had poked him in the ribs to get his mind back on track. She stared intently at him for a fraction before he nodded and turned back to the commodore. “Well, I mean, what I meant, sir, is that the infrared and FTL signals have a high degree of interaction. So I tried to track the origin of the signal based on that interaction. Well, here are the results.” The young man tapped his console, and the main plot brought up a vector analysis the man had been talking about. A series of lines all pointed to a common point in space.
Stokes gritted his teeth silently for a moment to retain his composure before responding. Simmons continued to demonstrate incredibly questionable judgment and lack of leadership ability putting that young enlisted man on point like that – without even giving him a chance to prepare. Once he knew his voice would come out steady, he said, “Well done, Specialist Jackson. I can see you may have located the origin signal by... how did you put it? Playing with the main sensor array?” Stokes hoped a bit of humor would take the sting out of the situation for the young specialist.
“Uh, sir... I only meant I was trying new ways of running energy analyses.”
“Don't worry, specialist. You've done well. Miss Simmons, have you verified his findings?”
“Just getting my independent data now, sir.” Simmons turned back to her panel and tapped at it furiously for a moment. “Yes, sir. I can validate the specialist's data. This point,” Simmons caused a ring to highlight the convergence of the energy pattern on the plot. ”This seems to be the point of origin.”
“Mister Kri, what is our best ETA to this point?”
“Six hours, fourteen minutes, sir. Provided we don't have to break out the drones to clear the area once we get a bit closer. That point is actually below the plane of the ecliptic. We'll probably have to maneuver carefully to get there directly.”
“Noted, Mister Kri. Make our course for the origin point, best possible speed.”
“Aye, sir. Helm make your heading one-two-one by three-zero-nine, ahead full.”
The helmsman repeated the order before dialing in the new course and throttling up the engines to seventy-five percent of their rated power, their maximum setting for extended flight. The rumble of the engines flowed from the deck plates.
The following five hours passed without incident until Rampart had to begin maneuvering heavily to move away from the drifting asteroids. Drones were launched and began clearing a wider path than the hard mounted point defense system could manage on its own. As the smaller bodies were cleared away, their objective finally came into view. Stokes rubbed gritty eyes with his fingers, fighting the urge to doze off in the command chair. The entire bridge crew had been at their stations for twelve hours, none of them willing to miss the chance to be there for the moment when the origin of a signal so important was found.
Kri said, “Sir, that large asteroid ahead is the origin point. I'm putting it on the main plot now.” The plot changed to display a large disk-shaped asteroid.
“That clearly isn't a natural formation. Miss Simmons, what is your analysis?”
“Nothing of note, sir. The surface of the asteroid appears to be the standard mix of rocky iron you would expect, but the readings just drop off a few feet down. It's almost like the entire asteroid was shielded from our scans in some way. From a distance, it would certainly scan like any other rock floating by here, but this close we have the resolution to see the gap in the middle we can't scan.”
“How large is this asteroid?” Stokes asked.
Kri said, “Just over five kilometers across. It's exactly circular. Roughly one kilometer thick, uniformly across the entire thing.”
Simmons said, “Sir, we are getting a low energy reading now. It looks like some kind of short range active scan.” Simmons paused, working her console for a moment and then said, “Energy output has increased twenty-five hundred percent, sir. Definitely an active scanning system. Sir! Look!” Simmons pointed at the plot.
Stokes turned his attention from Simmons back to the huge display along the forward wall of the bridge. Glowing lines began to cross along the edge of the asteroid. The lines slowly grew until they merged, causing the whole asteroid to glow a pale blue. The entire bridge crew watched raptly until Stokes said, “Sensor analysis, Miss Simmons. What are we seeing here?”
Simmons gave herself a shake and began tapping at her console again. “Not sure, sir. Energy reading is negligible, aside from some visible and ultraviolet spectrum light, we aren't getting anything new from the asteroid.”
Kri shook his head. “That's no asteroid. Whatever it is, I suggest we be ready to defend ourselves, sir.”
“Agreed. Mister Patho, combat launch drones, standard defensive package.”
“Aye, sir. Launch in eighty seconds.”
Silence once again dominated the bridge while the launch counter spooled at the edge of the main plot.
“Is the light getting brighter, Miss Simmons?” Stokes asked.
“Yes, sir. Light intensity increase is on a linear slope. Graphing it to the secondary plot.” The crashing rum
ble of a full combat launch of drones echoed through the bridge as she finished her sentence.
“Drone launch normal, sir,” Patho said.
“Very well, Mister Patho. Miss Simmons, put the other energy output from their scanner up as well. See if there's any correlation.”
“Aye, sir,” Simmons said.
Stokes pondered the situation. Whatever this thing was, it had responded to their presence. Whatever its intentions, he planned on meeting it ready to defend the safety of his crew. The drones rumbled into space just as the counter dropped to zero. Their signatures began to populate the tactical plot to the right of the main plot.
“Light intensity decreasing, sir. Scan intensity has dropped as well, back to the originally detected level. I'm getting a visual change as well. It looks like the glow is fading entirely now, sir.”
Kri said, “Another set of lines are appearing. Black this time.”
“Those aren't lines. That's open space, sir,” Patho said.
The lines widened to gaps, ever widening until a structure became visible behind the occluding rocky strata. Material that looked like brilliantly burnished silver became visible and slowly resolved into curves and points. The entire formation becoming visible as an enormous silver ring with a series of seven elongated pointed pods arrayed roughly equally along the outer edge.
“What is it, sir?” Kri said.
“That's what we're here to find out, Mister Kri. Helm engage maneuvering engines. Let's close in. Mister Patho, keep the drones up in a defensive screen between us and the artifact. Miss Simmons, I want you to try to get an internal scan now that the rock is gone. Perhaps we will have better luck.”
The helm maneuvered the Rampart closer to the gleaming ring. Simmons worked at her station for a few moments before turning and saying, “Sir, the outer shell of the artifact refracts our scanner like a prism refracts a ray of light. Not only do we not have a chance of seeing what's inside, but we also can't even tell what it's made of. One moment, sir. I'm getting a new signal. A series of pings on a light speed frequency. Running mathematical analysis now, sir.”
“Very well, Miss Simmons. Mister Kri, get our scientists up here. This may be something they can help with.”
“Aye, sir.” Kri turned to message the passengers to come to the bridge.
Simmons said, “It's a repeating pattern or nine individual numbers, presuming a base ten numbering system. Each digit from one to nine in four different progressions repeated over and over. The whole cycle takes about twenty seconds to complete.”
“Sir, how much closer do you want me to get?” The helmsman asked.
Kri said, “Hold at five hundred kilometers, helm.”
“Aye, sir.”
The Rampart began braking to a stop relative to the artifact a few seconds before the bridge door opened to admit the two origin tablet scientists. Stokes turned in his chair and said, “Welcome to the bridge, gentlemen. The object you see displayed on the forward plot is the artifact that has been transmitting the origin signal. As we approached, it began sending a mathematical sequence to us. I believe it may be some kind of recognition code or, perhaps, a security measure. Have either of you seen anything like this in your studies of the origin tablet?”
Cobb strolled forward and paused just behind and to the left of Stokes' command chair. Stokes turned to see him standing in the regulation specified location for any assigned mission observer while the other scientist, Doctor Stapeley walked forward to the main plot and gazed with wide eyes at the artifact. Stokes also noted that Cobb had virtually no expression of surprise on his face. Curiosity, certainly, but his reaction was far more muted than any of the bridge officers had been, much less what he would expect from a civilian academic. Stokes filed the information away for later.
Stapeley turned back and looked at Stokes. His face was straight out of every child's imagination for the kindly elderly uncle. His soft brown eyes were wide in amazement. “How big is it, Commodore,” He asked.
Stokes turned his attention back forward. “Five point zero three kilometers. And the main part of the ring is exactly one kilometer long near as we can tell. Mean thickness is roughly three hundred fifty meters.
Stapeley's eyes glazed over while he pondered the information for a moment before he said, “That's something around three cubic kilometers volume.”
Stokes nodded. “That agrees with our calculation, Doctor. Now, would you please look at the four sets of mathematical progressions and see if they make any sense to you?”
“Ah, yes, of course.” The man stood directly in front of the sensor plot and rubbed the gray scruff on the bottom of his chin. He turned and said, “I've never seen anything like it, commodore. What is it?”
“It came in a transmission from the artifact. Radio frequency, not any kind of faster than light transmission. Low power, too. It was clearly not meant to be heard anywhere outside of this system.
“Of course, any light speed signal would take a very long time to make it to the nearest inhabited star system. Lashmere is the closest, and it's thirteen light years away. By then, the signal is virtually guaranteed to have attenuated to be indistinguishable from galactic background noise.”
Stokes nodded. “We already know this, doctor. Is there anything you can tell us about the origin tablet that may have something to do with this series of numbers?”
“I'm afraid not. It doesn't correlate to the ratios of the surfaces or sides of the tablet, and it also doesn't appear to relate to the materials of the origin tablet itself. Doctor Cobb? Can you shed any light on the situation?”
Cobb looked the numbers over for a moment and decided to hedge rather than tip his hand. His orders allowed him a great deal of latitude, but he was supposed to keep classified information classified if at all possible. “Have you run a semi prime analysis on the numbers? Perhaps in a base eight or base sixteen numbering system? I think it's a series of base eight semi primes, but I'm not sure. Mathematics was never my strong suit.”
“Miss Simmons run base conversion and semi prime analysis. See if we can find a decryption key for the signal.”
“Aye, sir. The analysis is coming back now. It will take a few minutes for the computer to run a brute force decryption routine on such large numbers.”
“Keep me advised of your progress, Miss Simmons.” Stokes turned and regarded Cobb again, who returned his gaze with an expressionless mask on his face. Stokes decided at that moment the man was certainly not a scientist. His stance, his way of imparting information and his clear familiarity with military ships all pointed to a far different conclusion.
Cobb noticed Stokes' scrutiny. “Is there another question or piece of information I can try to work on for you, commodore?”
“No, Doctor Cobb, I believe you have provided what we need for the moment. We will wait to see what the computer resolves from a decryption of the radio signal.
“Getting those results now, Commodore,” Simmons said, “It looks like the decryption Doctor Cobb suggested has unraveled a variety of information from the radio signal including what looks like text instructions. They, sir... They do not need translation. Putting them up now.”
The main plot split to show a block of text which read 'proceed in small craft to primary docking bay located in center pod. Use the following frequency to request entry. Further instructions will be provided upon entry'.
“Looks like we are going to take a short trip, people. Doctors, would you be so kind as to join us in the boat bay in fifteen minutes? Please bring along any research notes you think you might need. Mister Kri, you have the ship. Miss Simmons, you are on the team along with Mister Patho. Get Lieutenant Aves' marine platoon ready as well. Full combat load and drone escort into the docking bay.
Kri said, “Sir... are you sure you want to fly over to that thing on no more than a paragraph of text? We know nothing about it. What if something happens to you, sir?”
“Risk is part of the profession, Mister Kri. Don't
break my ship while I'm gone.” Stokes motioned to the two doctors. “Let's get to it, people.” He herded everyone off of the bridge while relief watch standers came to take the places of people assigned to the boarding crew.
Kri walked over to the command chair and plunked down into it. “Get me some more coffee, please. I think we may be here for a while longer.”
The boat bay was positively bustling with activity. Ten Marines in full combat kit, the two doctors, who were quickly suited into protective but unpowered combat armor, and three naval officers all in their version of combat kit as well were crowded around the pinnace. Rampart carried three pinnaces, each designed to carry twelve passengers plus a two-person flight crew.
Stokes addressed the gathered people. “It's going to be a tight fit, so I want everyone to get strapped in. Mister Aves, you have the aft section. I'll squeeze myself into the back of the cockpit with Simmons and Patho.”
Aves stood at attention and said, “Aye, sir. He turned and began hustling the Marines aboard along with the two scientists. As they boarded, Stokes, Simmons, and Patho walked to the forward hatch that went directly into the cockpit.
Once he was sure everyone else had boarded, Stokes said, “Cobb is not a scientist. I'm not sure who he is, but I noticed a few things about him that made me think he's something else entirely.”
“Like the way he always stands with his feet in the position of a basic hand to hand combat stance?” Patho said.
Simmons nodded. “And the way he figured out that encryption after looking at it for less than five minutes. If he was some kind of mathematician, I guess I could see it, but he's supposed to be a kind of archaeologist, sir.”
Stokes said, “Excellent observations, both of you. It looks like we'll have to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't try anything fancy.”
“Whatever that means,” Simmons said.
Stokes said, “Go ahead, Mister Patho. I need a quick word with Miss Simmons alone.”
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