by Greg Cox
“You’re in charge of this mission, Colonel. It’s your call.” The scientist’s gaze remained glued to his monitors. “But personally, I would never forgive myself if we didn’t at least try to solve this mystery.”
Shaun felt the same way. “Okay, it’s decided, then.” He had never been more proud of his crew. “Keep the LIDAR locked on that comet. Track its every move.”
“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else.”
Zoe waved her hand in the air. “Hey, don’t I get a vote?”
“No,” Fontana said in no uncertain terms.
“Fair enough,” Zoe said with a shrug. “Although, just for the record, I think you folks are acting like real starship heroes.”
Fontana rolled her eyes. “Why don’t I find that reassuring?”
It took several minutes to calculate an intercept course based on the comet’s current trajectory. They would have to leave Sacagawea behind. The probe’s thrusters had been intended for only minor course corrections; they lacked the power for this sort of chase. Shaun would have to be careful not to expend too much of the Lewis & Clark’s own engine power on this unplanned expedition. Mission Control would have a cow when they found out about it.
It will be worth it, Shaun thought, if we can make contact with a genuine UFO.
“Everybody strap yourself in,” he advised the crew and the stowaway. Zoe took a seat at the computer station next to O’Herlihy. She tapped out a few last notes on her tablet before stowing it away for safekeeping. “We’re hitting the gas.”
“Tally-ho,” Fontana said drily.
Shaun fired up the thrusters and initiated a controlled burn to accelerate the ship in the direction of the probe. The nose of the command module tilted as he altered the angle of their orbit to bring them into the same plane as their quarry. The Lewis & Clark climbed toward Saturn’s north pole. The planet’s axial tilt worked in their favor, as did the fact that Saturn was somewhat squashed in shape, being wider around the middle than from top to bottom, but because of the sheer size of the gas giant, it still took two-plus hours before they finally found themselves gazing down at the top of the planet.
“Whoa!” Zoe exclaimed. “What happened to the hexagon?”
Shaun was wondering the same thing. The celebrated six-sided vortex, which had been unchanged for decades, was visibly diminished. Its borders had contracted, so that it appeared to have shrunk in size by at least a third, and its color had faded, too, making it somewhat harder to make out against the planet’s turbulent yellow atmosphere. It almost looked as though the vortex was gradually shrinking away.
But was that even possible?
“Marcus?”
“I see it,” O’Herlihy replied tersely. “And no, our eyes are not deceiving us. The vortex has noticeably decreased in both size and intensity, almost thirty-two percent since the last time we analyzed it.”
“Why didn’t we notice this before?” Shaun asked.
O’Herlihy shrugged. “We weren’t looking for it, and there’s been a lot of Saturn, including its various rings and moons. Plus, it appears that the rate of the shrinkage has increased exponentially with the approach of the comet.”
Shaun didn’t like this. The hexagon, the rings, the comet — nothing was acting as it was supposed to. He supposed it could be seen as a lucky break that the Lewis & Clark had arrived in time to witness these astounding developments, but it didn’t feel that way. He was starting to wish they had gone to Mars instead.
“What about the comet?” Fontana asked. “Where is it now?”
O’Herlihy consulted the LIDAR. “Oh, my God. You’re not going to believe this.”
At this point, Shaun was ready to accept just about anything short of a flock of winged unicorns. “Try me.”
“It’s come to a dead stop nine hundred kilometers above the planet’s north pole.” Zoe started to open her mouth, but O’Herlihy beat her to the punch. “Yes, directly above the hexagon.”
“I don’t understand,” Fontana said. “How does a comet come to a stop?”
“You tell me,” the scientist said, sounding somewhat overwhelmed by the unexplainable phenomena he had been confronted with recently. “But the comet is definitely parked in a stationary position above the pole. Not an easy feat to pull off, by the way, even for a satellite.”
Shaun knew what he meant. Geosynchronous orbits were easier to maintain above a planet’s equator, where the satellite’s orbit could be matched to the planet’s rotation. A satellite would have to be able to modify its orbit continuously to “hover” in place above the pole. Back on Earth, solar sails had been employed to attempt this, with mixed results. Shaun had no idea how a comet could do it — unless it wasn’t really a comet.
“I’m bringing us in closer,” he said. “I want to see that thing with my own eyes.”
Operating the thrusters manually, he cruised a kilometer above the comet. Because the ship was in an inverted position, with its belly facing away from the planet, they were able to gaze up at the “comet” as it hovered hundreds of kilometers above the anemic hexagon.
C/2018 floated like a hot-air balloon beneath them. To Shaun’s surprise, it was glowing much more brightly than before. Its misty coma expanded as jets of vapor steamed off the comet’s frozen nucleus, which appeared to be dissolving before their eyes.
“Huh?” Zoe said. “Is it supposed to be doing that?”
“No,” O’Herlihy said, sounding torn between dismay and wonder. “Not this far out from the sun. Granted, Saturn also radiates its own heat but not enough to melt a comet like that!”
Shaun stared at the comet, which was shrinking like an ice cube on a hot summer day. Its icy core seemed to be subliming directly from solid to gas, skipping the liquid state. Billowing clouds of vapor poured off the nucleus. Solar winds blew the gas back into the comet’s tail, which was wrapping around the planet below before dissipating into the vacuum. He had never seen anything like it.
“What’s happening, Doc?”
“Give me a second!” the harried scientist replied. He recalibrated their equipment, directing all of their sensory apparatus, including the trans-spectral imager, at the fuming comet. “I’m at my wit’s end here. None of this makes any sense!”
Join the club, Shaun thought. He’d had more jolts on this voyage than in the rest of his NASA career combined, up to and including the disappearance of the DY-100. “Hold it together, Marcus. Just think of all the history we’re making. We’re discovering stuff that nobody ever dreamed of before.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” Fontana said. She snuck her hand across the helm to squeeze his. “Count on you to see the upside.”
He smiled back at her. “Astronauts have to be optimists. Who else would blast themselves into space?”
“As long as we keep one foot on the ground,” she said. “Figuratively speaking.”
“You do a pretty good job of that. That’s why we make such a good team.”
Was that a hint of a blush on her cheeks? “Nice of you to say so,” she said, “but if we get abducted by aliens, it’s all your fault.”
She said it lightly, but Shaun knew she was right. If there was some extraterrestrial intelligence directing C/2018, there was no way of telling how it might react to their presence. There was no guarantee that first contacts had to be peaceful. Just ask H. G. Wells, he thought. Or Montezuma.
Steam continued to pour off the comet, which had already shed most of its mass, so that it was now smaller than the Lewis & Clark. A bright blue glow emanated from the nucleus, visible even through the thick clouds of vapor surrounding the core. The comet’s tail extended beyond the curve of Saturn, almost like another ring.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Zoe murmured. She grinned like the Cheshire Cat.
Shaun watched as the comet dissolved into mist. What was causing it to sublime like that? Surely not the heat of the planet.
“Marcus?”
“It’s heating up from within,�
� the scientist reported, “as though there’s some sort of internal heat source beneath the ice.”
Zoe stared at him. “You mean, it’s defrosting itself?”
“That would be one interpretation,” O’Herlihy conceded. “Although I probably would have phrased it differently.”
“That’s why I’m a journalist and you’re an academic.” She peered at what remained of the comet. “What do you think is under all that ice and fog?”
“I don’t know,” Shaun said, “but it looks like we’re about to find out.”
The coma surrounding the nucleus was sucked into the comet’s tail, exposing a shrinking chunk of ice that appeared to be no more than ten meters across. The glow seemed to be coming from beneath the icy crust, just as O’Herlihy had determined. Shaun wondered if the melting was taking place on purpose now that the “comet” had reached its destination. That seemed as plausible an explanation as any.
The last of the ice began to steam away. “Look!” Fontana said, pointing excitedly at the window. “You see that?”
Shaun saw. The icy crust had nearly misted away in spots, exposing patches of polished bronze plating. A glowing turquoise ring could be glimpsed beneath a frosty glaze.
A stunned hush fell over the flight deck. All present grasped the astonishing implications of what they were seeing. Even Zoe seemed rendered speechless.
“Okay,” Fontana said finally. “That’s no comet.”
“No,” Shaun realized. “That’s a probe.”
Eight
2270
“A probe?”
“So it appears, Captain,” Spock reported. “Of alien design and origin.”
Kirk strode onto the bridge, having been alerted to a change in the comet’s status. By ship’s time, it was after two in the morning. The ship’s corridor had been dimmed to simulate nighttime. The captain was gratified to see that his senior officers were already in place on the bridge. He dropped into his chair and peered at the viewer.
The probe, seen moving across the system under its own power, was shaped roughly like an hourglass, with wide concave dishes at both ends. Its dented bronze casing reflected the light from Klondike VI. A glowing turquoise ring orbited the neck of the hourglass. Kirk wondered if the spinning blue halo was the propulsion unit. Multicolored lights flickered along bands of instrumentation and sensors. The hourglass was oriented sideways on the screen. It was hard to judge its speed against the backdrop of the planet.
“Course and activity?” Kirk asked.
“The probe is approaching the northern tip of Klondike VI, its trajectory bypassing the rings and their hazards. It appears to be decelerating as it nears the pole.” Spock manned his science station. The glow from his scanner cast azure shadows on the planes of his face. “In addition, the ice that formerly covered the probe has now melted away entirely, as a result of the activation of an internal heat source.”
This can’t be a coincidence, Kirk thought. A freak comet was unlikely enough, but an alien probe arriving at the same time that Klondike VI and its rings were undergoing massive distortions? There had to be a connection.
“Bring us closer,” he ordered. “And dispatch a shuttlecraft to defend the colony.” A shuttle’s phasers were nowhere near the same class as the Enterprise’s, but they should be able to provide Skagway with a degree of protection while the starship was investigating the probe. “Have the shuttle equipped with auxiliary phasers as well.”
“Aye, sir,” Uhura said. “Relaying your orders to the hangar bay now.”
Confident that the shuttle would watch over the colony, Kirk gave the probe his full attention. “What do you make of it, Mr. Spock? Any idea who might have sent it?”
“Negative, Captain.” Spock looked up from his sensors. “The alloys and configuration do not match anything in our library banks. I am also detecting energy signatures of a highly unusual nature.”
Kirk didn’t recognize the design, either. It wasn’t Romulan or Tholian or even Gorn.
“What about you?” he asked Qat Zaldana, who had apparently beaten him to the bridge. The veiled scientist stood between Kirk and Spock, leaning against the red safety rail surrounding the recessed command module. Kirk gestured at the probe on the screen. “Does that object ring any bells with you?”
“I’m afraid not, Captain. We’ve been studying this system for decades now, and there’s no record of this comet — or probe — ever approaching Klondike VI before. I can’t place its origins, either.” She shrugged apologetically. “Then again, I’m an astronomer, not a xenologist.”
“Careful,” Kirk teased her. “Or our ship’s doctor will sue you for trademark infringement.”
Sulu and Uhura chuckled at their posts, but Qat Zaldana didn’t get the joke. She tilted her head in a quizzical manner. “Excuse me?”
“I’ll explain later,” he promised.
The quip had been intended to lighten the mood on the bridge. So far, the mysterious probe did not seem to pose any immediate threat, but every member of his crew knew that such discoveries had proven dangerous in the past. Take the Nomad probe, for example, or Balok’s radioactive warning buoy.
“Increase power to the deflectors,” the captain ordered. Their screens were already in place to ward off stray debris from the rings, but the probe might have greater potential as a threat than random chunks of ice. Kirk pressed a switch on his armrest. “Go to yellow alert.”
“Aye, Captain,” Chekov said.
Amber indicator lights flared around the bridge. The yellow alert signaled every crew member and department to go to an advanced stage of readiness. Emergency crews and systems were placed on standby.
“I’m attempting to hail the probe,” Uhura reported. “No response.”
Kirk was briefly tempted to ask if she had tried every frequency, but he knew that would be redundant. Uhura had hailed more alien vessels and planets than probably anyone else in this sector.
“Analysis, Mr. Spock?”
“Insufficient data, Captain. Although there are indications that the probe is many thousands of years old and perhaps running low on power. Meteoroid scoring has pitted its hull. Its energy signatures register as both erratic and fading.”
Kirk nodded. “Is it emitting any harmful radiation? And what about weapons?”
“It appears to be unarmed, Captain.”
“But why is it here? Why now?” Kirk frowned; he didn’t need another mystery right now. “And what does this have to do with the anomalies affecting the rings? And the vortex on the planet’s surface?”
“It is difficult to say,” Spock stated, “without a closer examination of the artifact.”
“I have to agree,” Qat Zaldana added. “It might be useful to inspect the probe itself. We could learn something that would help us save the colony.”
Kirk had to smile. He suddenly felt as if he had two science officers at his disposal. That being the case, he would be foolish not to listen to them.
“Kirk to transporter room,” he ordered via intercom. “Prepare to lock onto that object and beam it aboard. Employ standard safety and decontamination procedures.”
“Aye, Captain,” a female voice responded. A glance at the duty roster informed him that Lieutenant Mascali was manning the transporter this shift. “Ready to proceed at your order.”
“Wait for me. I’m on my way. Kirk out.”
He rose from his chair. “Mr. Spock? Qat? Care to join me?”
“After you, Captain,” Qat Zaldana said. She tucked her data slate under her arm.
He headed for the turbolift. “The bridge is yours, Mr. Sulu. Notify me at once if that thing out there so much as burps.”
“Aye, sir,” Sulu promised. “You’ll be the first to know.”’
The two scientists followed Kirk into the turbolift. Crimson doors whooshed shut. Kirk took hold of the handle. “Transporter room,” he instructed the lift. “No stops.”
They found Scotty waiting for them behind the transporter con
trols. “Thought I should do the honors myself, considering we don’t know exactly what we’re taking aboard here. Better safe than sorry.” He glanced at Lieutenant Mascali, who stood by to assist him. Dark hair and olive skin hinted at Mediterranean roots, although Kirk believed she hailed from Alpha Centauri. “No offense, lassie.”
“None taken, sir,” she answered. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Kirk appreciated Scotty’s initiative, too. Nobody aboard could operate the transporters as well as the ship’s resident miracle worker.
“All right, then. Let’s take a closer look at our surprise visitor.”
Scotty nodded. “Locking onto the object.” He pulled the levers down. “Energizing now.”
The telltale whine of the transporter beam con-firmed Scotty’s report. A scintillating column of golden sparks manifested above a transporter pad, then coalesced into the shape of the probe. The radiance faded away, leaving only a hint of static in the air and a huge object resting on the platform. The image on the viewer had not quite prepared Kirk for the sheer size of the probe. At least twice as large as the conn stations on the bridge, the probe took up most of the transporter platform. Only sturdy Starfleet construction kept the platform from buckling under its weight. It lay sideways across the platform, resting on the rims of dishes at both ends, which crumpled slightly at the bottom. The glowing ring around its equator dimmed and slowed to a stop. Lights flashed intermittently here and there. Patches of melting ice clung to its hull. They dripped onto the transporter pads.
The probe had obviously seen better days. Its surface was badly scorched and corroded. Pitted metal testified to hundreds of microcollisions. The bronze plating was charred and melted in places. Kirk wondered what had inflicted the damage. Merely time and erosion, or had the probe had a run-in with an ion storm or something even more destructive? The probe’s battered condition made it hard to guess how old it was. Hundreds of years? Thousands?
Millions?
“Remarkable,” Qat Zaldana said. “Where do you think it came from?”
Kirk imagined her eyes widening behind her veil. He wondered how the probe appeared to her sensors. What else could she see?
