Diverse Similarity

by Sharon Rose

  They arrived back at the Ontrevay right on schedule, completing the full trip in just under nine hours.

  Krdn’s voice came over the comm channel. “Beta crew, command is transferred to ex op. Kena, drop your load first and reenter the bay.” He indicated a course for her and then started directing the other craft.

  Kena flew beneath the hold, released the anchor of her sample containment field, and took her ship inside. The bay pressurized, and its gravitational field reengaged.

  The instant the command ship’s ramp came to rest on the bay floor, Dhgnr strode up it.

  Kena left the navigation module and invited him in. “She’s still asleep. I’ll let you wake her.” Turning to the rest of her crew, she said, “You can get out and stretch your legs, but don’t leave the bay.”

  She ran down the ramp as though she hadn’t just spent nine hours weightless. The others followed her more cautiously. Ghent awaited them, as well as several scientists, Metchell, and his reluctant assistant. Ghent and Piert drew Kena aside.

  “How’s the alpha team doing?” Kena asked, already aware that Delf’s team was behind schedule.

  “Not good,” Ghent said. “They have to deal with a lot more planetary material than you do, and there’s been an explosion. Both of the yellow craft were damaged. Also, they cannot find the exotic material we’re looking for in the small moon debris, only in the planetary debris.”

  Kena raised her eyebrows and looked at Piert. “Isn’t that last part a good thing?”

  “It does solve part of the riddle, but we must be certain it contains no exotic matter. That means we need a lot more close-up scanning.”

  Ghent said, “For all these reasons, we’ve delayed the alpha team. They will only make two runs and will stay longer at the target area.”

  Kena nodded and asked, “Do you want to reassign any of my craft to alpha?”

  “No. We thought about it but decided against it. How’s your team doing? Is there anything I should know that wasn’t in your report?”

  “No, they’re fine.”

  “Hrndl included?” Ghent asked.

  “As far as I know. I had her sleep most of the way back, so I haven’t talked to her in a couple hours. Better ask Dhgnr or Metchell.”

  Metchell was approaching, and Ghent went to meet him.

  Kena would have followed, but Piert detained her. “There’s something else you may find interesting. Do you recall that we believed this system once had a close encounter with another?”

  She nodded.

  “We have found that system, or rather, the remains of it.”

  He paused, and Kena tilted her head.

  “It’s at the heart of the nebula we passed on our way here,” he said. “From this side, we can get a better look at the central region. There are at least four…objects, shall we say. We aren’t sure how to classify them yet, but there’s easily enough matter to assume they could have been stars. If so, they died in a manner never before observed. The nebula appears to be the result of numerous explosions. It’s filled with debris. A large percentage has probably been ejected, but there is still a tremendous amount of matter, more or less orbiting the larger objects.”

  “That means…” Kena’s lips didn’t form the next word. Her eyes widened, and her brow tensed.

  “Yes.” Piert nodded as he drew out the word. “It means quite a number of very interesting things!”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ghent strode back to Kena and Piert. “Metchell tells me Hrndl is still fit for duty. It’s time to get underway.”

  Kena barely heard him. “Piert just told me—”

  Ghent held up a hand to silence her. “I’m sure he has, and it’s a fascinating subject. But right now, you are collecting samples, and we haven’t much time. Take your crew back out.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ghent headed for the door. Kena turned and announced, “Beta crew, get on board. The rest of you, clear the bay.” She strode up the ramp, and the crew hurried behind her. Hrndl stood in the airlock, facing Dhgnr. The corners of her eyes pulled so high that her cheeks stretched. Hmm. Delight, perhaps?

  “Hate to spoil your fun, but it’s time to go,” Kena said.

  Dhgnr’s response was unintelligible to Kena, but Hrndl uttered a gargling laugh and turned him around with a little push. In a few minutes, the ship was sealed, the bay doors slid open, and they slipped gracefully back outside. The two navigators had switched duties, so Hrndl issued the necessary commands to reassemble the craft into formation. They were soon speeding back to the large moon.

  Through all these activities, Kena uttered not a single unnecessary word. Once the course was implemented and stable, she stared through the long-range image overlaid on the hull.

  After several minutes, Hrndl asked, “How long do you intend to stare into the void before you tell me what’s wrong?”

  “What?” Kena asked.

  “Stare into the void is a Grfdn figure of speech referring to deep abstraction with a fixed gaze. I see nothing on that scan to hold your frowning attention. What’s wrong?”

  “Mm, well, it’s not precisely that anything is wrong. It’s just so—startling!”

  “It must be,” Hrndl said. “You just hummed. A sure sign of very deep abstraction.”

  Kena chuckled.

  “Much better,” Hrndl said. “Now, tell me.”

  Kena related what Piert had said, and it was Hrndl’s turn to frown thoughtfully at nothing in particular.

  Kena exclaimed, “Hrndl! You’re staring into space.” At Hrndl’s puzzled look, she said, “That’s the Human version of staring into the void.”

  “Really? It’s virtually the same phrase. Is it commonly used?”

  “Uh-huh,” Kena said through barely parted, unmoving lips, much like a Grfdn would speak their native language.

  Hrndl smiled with her eyes and said, “I never cease to be amazed by the minute similarities between our two very different races.”

  “Yes, it’s almost as interesting as Piert’s news.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Hrndl said. “Have you considered what this means about the debris we encountered on the way here?”

  “First thing to cross my mind,” Kena said dryly.

  “We all assumed it was another PitKreelaundun device. But if that nebula is spewing out this mysterious matter—it could as easily be mere chance that debris exploded so close to us.”

  “Yes and no,” Kena said, her voice even drier than before.

  Hrndl looked at her with narrowed eyes. “I don’t like that tone, Kena. What do you mean?”

  “I recall speculation about the possible effects of gravity on this bizarre matter we’re trying to identify.” Kena took a deep breath then let it out. “Consider this: We go streaking along, generating a gravitational field all the way. In the vast emptiness of space, we hit a rock. How likely is that?”

  “Highly unlikely, yet possible. That is precisely why we shield our ships.”

  “Ah, yes,” Kena said, “and we shield them well! Yet this highly unlikely rock delivers a highly unlikely explosive force. So powerful, in fact, that the extended shield bows all the way in and crushes a sensor array. I’d say there is a pretty good chance we collided with the very type of matter we’re searching for.”

  Hrndl’s hand wrapped around a control stick, even though the computer was controlling their course. She exhaled a vibrating breath.

  Kena tugged at her shoulder restraints. “Then, we reenter normal space, still generating a gravitational field. A cluster of debris changes course to a much greater degree than it should and heads straight for us. We think that proves it’s controlled by an enemy. Disguised weapons, in fact. But what if our own gravitational field not only pulled it to us, but even triggered the explosion?”

  Hrndl was silent for a couple minutes, her frown deepening. Finally, she shook her head and said, “I do hope you are wrong.”

  “Why?” Kena asked. Was Hrndl reaching
the same conclusions she had?

  “Because, if you are right, the same scenario could have happened many times before. Who knows how much of this matter is deep in PitKreelaundun space—and the ejection arms?”

  “We certainly don’t know, but it behooves us to find out.” Kena’s voice turned grim as she added, “And more important, to find a way to calculate trajectories.”

  “Now, what are you thinking?”

  Kena fidgeted in her couch again. “I’ve spent plenty of time in the nebula’s ejection arms between Prednia and PitKreelaundun space. They hold anomalies that no one can explain. How many so-called attacks from PitKreelaundun disguised weapons have there been? I’ll bet it’s pushing a hundred by now. If those were really natural phenomena, how many near misses have we overlooked? Thousands, perhaps. How many times have our gravitational fields altered the trajectories of explosive debris? Maybe even redirected into PitKreelaundun space?” Kena shook her head. “Probably not often, but if it has happened even once, it may have looked intentional to them.”

  “Slow down, Kena. You’re extrapolating this pretty far. Bear in mind, they don’t have the technology to understand generated gravity. Even if we did accidentally send some debris their way, they wouldn’t necessarily connect its arrival with our activities.”

  “How do you know they don’t have gravitation technology?”

  “Because they don’t use…” Hrndl’s voice tapered off.

  “If I lived where they do,” Kena said, “the last thing I would generate is a gravitational field. They need them, too, with all the large ships they have. But instead, they build cylindrical ships and spin them to create centrifugal force. Ever had to maneuver a spinning ship?”

  “Only in simulation,” Hrndl murmured. “I admit, it’s not my first choice for a ship design.”

  “Nor theirs, I suspect. The smaller ships are never cylinders. I begin to wonder why they have such vast fleets of large ships. What do we really know about their history? Are they really struggling for dominance, as we believe, or are they trying to ensure racial survival?” Her grim tone turned bitter. “I even begin to wonder about the Collaborative’s stance on the PitKreelaundun conflict.”

  “All right, Kena, stop and listen to me for a few minutes,” Hrndl said. “You’re raising valid questions, but we don’t have the answers right now. The question of explosive debris, which may or may not be strategically placed, is one thing. PitKreelaundun fighters are another thing entirely. You should know that better than most of us. Whatever their motives, whatever they think of us, we still need to survive their attacks.”

  Hrndl slowed and emphasized her words. “More important right now, we need to survive the debris field we’re flying into. Piert did not tell you about this so you could spend the next eighteen hours considering racial issues. If you want to use his information for analyzing trajectories, fine. But forget the rest of it until tomorrow. You and I are piloting a command ship, and that is all we are doing.”

  Kena’s frown had melted away, and a grin replaced it. “Ghent really ought to make you chief navigator.”

  Hrndl’s brow pulled back. It took her a second to clear the surprise from her face. “Where is your focus? Were you listening?”

  “Beyond doubt!” Kena’s voice acquired great enthusiasm. “Observe me running an unnecessary scan and double checking the display against it. Look! It matches. Oh, this is so exciting!”

  Hrndl choked back a gurgling laugh and assumed a dignified pose. “Performing a routine task is an accepted method for reestablishing focus.”

  “You sound like a training manual.”

  “Why does every officer on this ship, and even me, let you get by with all this frivolity?”

  “Don’t you know, Hrndl? It’s because I work best when I’m relaxed, and humor relaxes me. If Ghent does promote you to chief navigator, it won’t be just because you can deliver a stern reprimand. It’ll be because you know how to adjust your leadership style for diverse personalities.”

  Hrndl feigned offense. “Really? I don’t suppose it would have anything to do with my navigational skills.”

  “Oh, no! If that were the case, he would promote me.”

  Hrndl laughed, but quickly followed it with a question about the alpha crew’s status. Kena responded and let Hrndl guide both their conversation and activities.

  Their trip back to the moon was uneventful, but once they arrived, the work became grueling. They had to mine several large pieces in a denser region on this run. Watching continuously for danger, directing the activities of the small craft, and collecting samples of their own, demanded constant vigilance and intense focus.

  After a couple hours, Kena began to worry about Hrndl. She fidgeted, repeatedly adjusted her life support belt, and made uncharacteristic mistakes. As support navigator, Kena monitored and compensated as necessary, but Hrndl needed as much compensation as a junior navigator. Kena used her console to send a private message to Thrayl. When he responded with a trajectory analysis correctly identifying the greatest risks, she re-assigned him to navigational scanning.

  “This may be hard for you to imagine,” Kena said to Hrndl, “but I think we’re getting too focused now. It’s time to switch tasks.”

  “I hope you’re right about the source of the problem. If I monitor and scan as poorly as I’m piloting, we’re in trouble.”

  “You probably just need a change,” Kena said, “but I’ve assigned Thrayl to watch for danger. Do you feel all right?”

  “Yes. It’s just—My back muscles are so tight.”

  Hrndl did a little better. With the added assurance of Thrayl’s support, Kena was able to gather all the material she’d hoped for. As she reassembled the quads for the return trip, however, she began to wonder again. She insisted that Hrndl sleep on the way back. Hrndl tossed fitfully and woke often. Kena let out a long sigh when she at last completed deceleration beside the Ontrevay.

  A support navigator’s voice came over the comm channel. “Welcome back, beta crew. Kena, release your samples and re-enter the bay.”

  This time, only Krdn, Metchell, and Dhgnr were waiting for her when she disembarked. Kena frowned at Metchell and jerked her head toward the navigation module. He nodded and followed Dhgnr inside. Kena turned her attention to Krdn. “Where are all the samples we collected before?” she asked.

  “We took the precaution of moving them farther out while you were gone. There are indications that the corridor to the moons may deteriorate earlier than expected. Ghent wants you back out immediately. We kept the navigators from alpha’s yellow pair here to deal with your samples, so you can get your crew back underway at once.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Still at the remote sample area,” he said. “Your crew can drop samples at anchor here. We’ll move them after you leave.”

  “Where is Ghent?”

  Krdn’s voice chilled. “Asleep. Do you doubt that these are his orders?”

  “Not at all. Who do you have inside for support?”

  “The same minimal crew.”

  “The least experienced navigators we have,” she said, lifting her hands and letting them slap her thighs. “When did you last sleep?”

  “A few hours ago.”

  Metchell returned and said, “I cannot guarantee that Hrndl can last another nine hours, though she insists otherwise.”

  “I will not accept the risk.” Kena turned back to Krdn. “Wake Ghent. I need a proficient support navigator, and you appear to be the only one available.”

  She turned without waiting for an answer and hurried back to the navigation module. Dhgnr was leaning over Hrndl, speaking in his own language. He stopped when Kena entered.

  “You’re relieved, Hrndl,” she said quickly. “We’re in a bit of a hurry, so you need to disembark at once.”

  “Who is—”

  “I’d love to chat, but I don’t have time. Dhgnr, would you escort her out, please?”

  “But there isn�
�t anyone qualified to—”

  “Come, Hrndl.” Dhgnr’s voice was quiet, but firm. He unhooked both her restraint and EVA belt as he spoke. “You must realize that none of us will agree to launch this ship if you are in it.”

  Conflicting emotions fought for control of Hrndl’s face. She let him lift her from the couch.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Krdn busied himself at a wall-mounted console, first dispatching someone to wake Ghent, then issuing orders to his limited staff. These actions were automatic. His mind grappled with a very different problem. Kena had asked him to join her. Inconceivable! What could come of it? Only two possibilities, disaster or redemption—The first, the most probable. One thing he must absolutely ensure; no action of his could be the cause of any mishap.

  He kept his back to Hrndl and Dhgnr until they left the bay, then he sprinted to the command ship. More automatic actions. Check the bay. Close and seal the hull. Quick glance at the crew before entering the navigation module. They stared at him.

  He closed the inner door and grabbed the EVA belt. “The hatch seal is confirmed,” he said, snugging the belt around his waist then checking its life support functions.

  Kena was already on an alternate comm channel, giving orders to the outside craft. She had fit an audio unit into her ear and now adhered its microphone to her cheek. “Krdn, use the main channel to finish whatever you need to do.” Without a pause, she returned to her previous task, saying into her microphone, “Amethyst, leave the sample area and align to the departure course. I’ll join you in a few minutes. Sapphire, drop your loads.”

  Krdn adjusted his couch and strapped in while he spoke on the main channel. “Ex op, we are sealed. Open the bay and release the gravitational field.”