“Certainly, Joe. A-”
“I know it’s not just a yellow dwarf star with red food coloring.”
“What?”
“To make it orange instead of yellow.”
“Joe,” he sighed, “it is possible for you to get any dumber?”
“You want me to try?”
“No! Although, hmm, in a way, you are partly right. About the food coloring, I mean. The chemical composition of the star is partly responsible for the spectral lines that give its radiation a primary color, but mostly the color is due to the star’s surface temperature. An orange dwarf burns hydrogen like your Sun, but at a slower rate. This is important, because it means orange dwarf stars last longer in their main sequence, which gives life more time to develop on planets orbiting orange dwarfs.”
“Main sequence?”
“That is the time when the star is fusing hydrogen at its core into helium, and they are in hydrostatic equilibrium. The thermal pressure pushing outward from the fusion core is equal to the gravitational force pressing down from the outer layers of the star. When-”
“Wait, wait! I know this,” I announced, proud of myself. “After a star exhausts its supply of hydrogen, it starts burning, like, helium? Depending on the size of the star, it then either expands into a red giant, something like that? Or if its gravity is too much, the star collapses on itself to explode as a supernova?”
"Oh, that is-"
"Grade my answer on a Joe Bishop curve, Ok?"
"In that case, I should award you a Nobel prize. More like a IgNobel prize. Close enough for the amount of knowledge you require, Joe. Although in terms of astrophysics, your level of knowledge is equivalent to 'fire hot', 'water wet' or 'oxygen good'."
"Fire is hot, Skippy. You can't argue with that."
"It wouldn't do me any good to argue with you anyway."
"Hey, question for you. This orange star we're going to, the Elders didn't come from there, right? This was one of their colonies?"
"The Elders did not come from there, correct. Therefore I assume it is a colony, since I have little useful knowledge about the star system."
“Ok, so my question is, did they choose an orange star because it lasts longer than a yellow star? Did the Elders plan for their civilization to last long enough for the life of a star to matter?”
“That is possible, Joe. I simply do not know. As you so helpfully pointed out to me several freakin’ times, my memories of the Elders, of pretty much anything before I awoke on Paradise, are not exactly reliable. However, it does make sense that the Elders would have planned long-term, very long-term. If they had not discovered how to leave their physical form behind, they would very likely still be here today.”
“Yeah. I wonder about that.” The air from the vent above my bunk was no longer gently caressing my face. “If the Elders were still here, would they allow the Maxolhx and Rindhalu to be fighting an endless war? And would they allow those two senior species to drag client species into the war with them?”
“You are asking me to speculate, Joe.”
“Do it anyway, Ok? This is a question that has been bugging me for a while now. The Elders left the galaxy, they left their wormholes and some of their weapons-”
“Devices, Joe. I do not think the Elder civilization had any need for weapons.”
“Whatever you call them, the Maxolhx and Rindhalu used those devices as weapons against each other. Then those Sentinels the Elders left behind stomped anyone who used Elder weapons. Why? Why would the Elders care who uses the weapons they left behind? The Elders are gone, ascended above us or wherever the hell they went. If they cared about grubby species screwing with their stuff after they left, they should have taken their stuff with them. Or destroyed all of it, or locked it away somewhere. So, my question is why? This Roach Motel we’re going to; the Elders surrounded the whole system in a stealth field, and something in there kills any ship that tries to figure out the secrets. Again, why? The Elders are gone, Skippy. Why do they care?”
He didn’t respond immediately, and this wasn’t a case of him being busy doing something else that ate up his reduced processing power. This was Skippy thinking hard about something. “Joe, I often disparage your intellectual ability-”
“Really? I am shocked,” I said, clutching my chest and feigning shock. “When was this?”
“Very funny. In this case, you have been remarkably insightful, Joe. The questions you just asked have been bothering me also. Bothering me a lot. Like, to the point of distracting me. I do not have an answer.” He sighed. “This is another mystery I, we, need answers to. You can add it to the list of questions such as who threw Newark out of its original orbit, who or what destroyed Elder sites we found like the Dead Star moon on our last mission. Or who blew away most of Barsoom’s atmosphere, you can add that to the list of mysteries we need answers for.”
I considered that for a moment. A long moment. We did need answers, lots of answers. Several times, I had declared that the Merry Band of Pirates needed a long-term strategy, rather than frantically lurching from one crisis to another. So far, I had been too busy simply surviving to do much long-term thinking. Without knowing the full nature of the threats we faced, it was almost impossible to make long-term plans. “Promise me something, Skippy?”
“Without knowing what you are asking me to promise, I cannot-”
“This is important. For realz.”
“For realz. Got it,” he replied soberly, without the usual snarkiness in his tone. “Joe, our friendship means more to me than I can say. If I able to keep a promise to you, I will.”
“Huh. That was nice, Skippy. How did-”
“Our friendship is also far more humiliating to me than I can say. My best friend is a monkey. How pathetic is that?”
“My best friend is a beer can.”
“I see your point,” he conceded. “What is this promise you want from me?”
“That we will find answers to these questions, you and me. Even if you fix yourself, and contact the Collective. For my part, even if Earth is safe permanently, and all the species in the galaxy come together in peace and sing ‘Kumbaya’, I want to keep going, until we figure out what the hell has been going on around here.”
“Deal.” His avatar flashed to life on the floor, and he held out a holographic hand. I stretched out my hand and used two fingers to mimic shaking his hand. The hologram wasn’t solid so I couldn’t actually feel his tiny hand, although my fingertips tingled slightly from the effect of whatever field he used to project the 3D hologram.
“Deal,” I agreed. “Hey, speaking of questions, do you have any better info on the Roach Motel, now that we’re closer to it?”
“No. Come on, Joe, we are still lightyears away.”
“Yeah, but-”
“But nothing. I have focused the ship’s sensors on the system since we came through the last wormhole. The problem is, I can’t trust anything the sensors are telling me. I can’t even verify the star is an orange dwarf. Based on its gravitational effect on other stars in the local area, the Roach Motel star’s mass is seventy six percent of Earth’s sun, so it should be an orange dwarf. But I can’t declare that with any certainty.”
That worried me. “How close will we have to get before you can be certain?”
“Joe, we won’t know until we jump in.”
“That’s not good, Skippy.”
“I understand. There is no alternative, unfortunately.”
“We can’t jump closer in increments? Start a lightyear away, and jump something like a tenth of a lightyear closer?”
“No, that will not work. Other species have tried that. I told you, they even tried sending ships and probes in the slow way, coasting through normal space. Once objects get close to the edge of the system, they disappear. At the edge of the system, they disappear without ever getting close enough to see anything useful. If we’re going to get vaporized or whatever, we might as well jump in close enough to see what is insid
e that stealth field.”
“I hear you. I don’t like the idea of jumping in blind; but if we have to, we should jump in close and get it over with.”
“It’s not like we have a choice anyway,” Skippy added helpfully.
“Yeah,” I tossed my tablet on the bunk and sat up. No way could I relax and read a book with those happy thought racing around my brain. “I sure haven’t been able to think of an alternative, but I’ll tell you something for certain.”
“What’s that, Joe?”
“If we ever get back to Earth, UNEF Command is going to say I should have done something other than jumping blindly into a Roach Motel.”
“True dat.”
Chapter Ten
We jumped in as close to the Roach Motel as we dared without going close enough to risk the ship. How close we could get was not a hard line, it was a guess and I asked Skippy to be super conservative about it. Once we arrived, I requested a full day to examine the sensor data as best we could, and for the crew to double and triple check every piece of equipment we had.
“Ish the shensor data showin’ you anythin’ useful, Shkippy?” I asked.
“What?”
“Sorry.” I finished chewing the sticky peanut butter sandwich I was eating for a late breakfast in my office. That morning I had gotten out of bed at 0430 to help Major Simms pack away and secure supplies. After my quick brunch I was going to work in the hydroponics compartments, harvesting any crops that were ready. With the crew extra busy, I had declared a ‘Fend For Yourself’ day in the galley so no team had to spend the full day there. “Is the-”
“I understood you the first time, Joe; it is not polite to speak with your mouth full. Damn, I sound like Nagatha,” he grumbled. “The answer is, sort of. The useful information I am getting is what is not in the sensor data.”
“Uh, what?”
“The data looks correct until I examined it very carefully. The stealth field surrounding the star system is broadcasting a low-fidelity image. The Elders either think species outside will not notice the difference, or-”
“Or what?”
“Or,” he chuckled, “this is a way of the Elders saying ‘screw you’ to the universe. Either way, it tells me the data coming into our sensors is worthless; it doesn’t tell us anything about what’s inside that stealth field. I can tell from the movement of surrounding star systems that the mass of the Elder system is less than what I’m seeing through the sensor data.”
“So we have no idea what we will be jumping into?”
“There is a star at the center of that stealth field, I’m certain of that. Anything else is a guess, Joe.” He sounded miserable.
“Are you Ok, Skippy?”
“This is it, Joe. This could be the end for me. I never thought there could be an end for me. Now my only chance to survive is to jump a shipfull of monkeys into the unknown. I am not filled with confidence.”
“We monkeys will do all we can to find one of those damned conduits for you, Skippy.” Maybe the look of determination I was trying to project was lessened by me licking sticky peanut butter off my upper lip.
“I know you will, Joe. What I’m worried about is karma will take this opportunity to bitch-slap you into another dimension. Oh, crap, what the hell. It’s not like we have a choice, right?”
I needed to make a note to myself that Skippy should never be considered as the ship’s Morale Officer.
“Sir, the jump drive capacitors are at full charge, and-”
“You may proceed when the ship is ready, Colonel,” Chotek surprised me by saying.
“Uh,” I didn’t know what to say. The ship was fully prepared, all we needed to do was things like closing exterior vents, and people strapping themselves into seats.
“I’m sure you want to make preparations for the jump; placing damage control parties, assuring all personnel are strapped securely into seats, all that,” Chotek turned to look at me with a sad smile. He probably wished he was back on Earth doing something easy, like negotiating peace in the Middle East.
“Yes, Sir,” I responded slowly. “I, uh, thought you might want to wait here for a while, before we make the final jump in.”
“Why? Mister Skippy has already stated we will not get any more reliable sensor data until we are past the stealth field surrounding the system. I believe that while we remain out here, we risk whatever entity protects that system deciding we are already too close, and attacking us here. It would be a shame to come so close, and never see what in that star system is such a secret. If this ship is going to risk destruction anyway, I want to see what’s in there. What is the American saying?”
“Which one, Sir?”
“Something about the folly of taking half measures.”
“Oh.” I was thinking ‘you can’t be a little bit pregnant’ but that probably was not what Hans Chotek had in mind. “Um, how about ‘with bacon and eggs, the chicken is involved, but the pig is committed’?”
“No,” he smiled. “I know that expression. I was thinking ‘in for a penny, in for a pound’.”
“Ah.” A pound was English currency, but I wasn’t going to argue with him about it. “Yes, Sir. We’ll take two hours before we jump; give us time to make certain all our gear is secured, double-check all systems, and that everyone gets a bite to eat.” If things went sideways after we jumped, it might be a while before the crew got a good meal.
“That is a good idea,” Chotek said, likely contemplating what he could get from the galley before we jumped. “Before you go, I have one last question for our friendly beer can.”
Usually Chotek referred to Skippy as my beer can, so this was different; I didn’t know what to make of it. Whatever diplomatic training Chotek had often made his expression unreadable, and I reminded myself never to play poker with him. “Skippy?” I asked.
His avatar appeared on Chotek’s desk. “Yes, Joe? With what do you propose to waste my time now?”
Chotek actually smiled, though I couldn’t tell if it was sincere. “With asking how you can be sure that whatever entity is protecting that star system will accept your ID codes. That is your entire plan, correct? Transmit your ID codes, and hope for the best?”
“Yes,” Skippy said slowly in the voice parents use when speaking to slow little children. “These codes are known only to Elders, so they will-”
“How do you know that?” Chotek demanded, his smile fading. “You are basing your assumption on data you have taken from the senior species, correct? What if the Rindhalu or Maxolhx have Elder codes, but have protected them in databases you don’t have access to?”
I turned from Chotek to Skippy, wondering how Skippy would respond. Because Chotek had a good point, a very good point. I wish he had raised this question before we set course for the Roach Motel, but maybe the thought just occurred to him. I know what that was like; it happened to me all the time.
“Because,” Skippy replied slowly, “the codes are not simply ones and zeroes, or any lame encryption scheme. I used the phrase ‘ID code’ to make it easier for you monkeys to understand, but what I plan to use are not simply codes. It is a communications method. How I transmit is almost more important than what I transmit. If the Rindhalu or Maxolhx had access to this method, they would be using it, because it would give them communications that cannot be intercepted or decrypted. This communications method is deep Elder technology; no current species has even glimpsed the theoretical basis of this technology. Do you have any more time-wasting questions for me?”
I spoke before Chotek. “I don’t suppose you could share this technology with our science team?”
“Uh, that would be no,” he emphasized the last word in an extra condescending tone. “I still have restrictions against sharing advanced technology with primitive species. There is some good news, Joe. You know how I am not supposed to reveal myself to starfaring species, and how that has been causing inner conflicts for me, because we’re aboard this ship?”
“Uh huh, ye
ah,” I agreed.
“Well, the way you apes were a miserable failure at flying the ship without me has relaxed the internal pressure on me. Apparently, whatever system monitors my behavior has decided that the monkeys aboard this ship are passengers only, and pose no threat. So, goodness all around.”
“Yeah, goodness. Tell me, Oh Magnificent One, you have access to this super duper Elder communications method, even trapped in a tiny corner of your beer can?”
“I think so.”
Chotek and I shared a glance, and we were not smiling. “What do you mean, you think so?” I demanded. “We’re about to jump into the unknown, Skippy. This is a hell of a time to tell us you’re not sure you can do the only thing that might keep us alive.”
“Hold your horses, Joe. I have used this Elder communications technology before, and I am capable of transmitting the same way, even now. The reason I said ‘I think so’ is because I was being completely honest with you. Without an Elder device receiving my transmission and replying back to me, I cannot be one hundred percent certain my transmissions are going out correctly. But, I am one hundred percent certain there is no trouble with the transmission on my end. Does that make you feel better?”
“No,” I replied honestly. “But I understand what you’re saying. One more question; how can you be certain that whatever entity is protecting the Roach Motel, will be capable of receiving transmissions in this Elder communications method?”
“Hmmm. That is a good point, Joe. I had not considered that. However,” he added as my face grew red, “any such entity would be pretty much useless as a guardian of Elder technology, if it did not have access to Elder communications methods.”
Zero Hour (Expeditionary Force Book 5) Page 19
