Derelict: Marines (Derelict Saga Book 1)

by Paul E. Cooley

  “Then that’s it,” Dunn said. “You’ve done well, marines. Let’s get some grub before we go into stasis.”

  Cartwright moved forward. “Chow down!” he yelled loud enough to echo in the cargo bay.

  The marines responded by yelling, “Aye, Gunny!”

  Kali and her squad stood and headed to the galley, Cartwright’s men just behind them. She was sure the command crew would join them shortly. Dunn always held the command crew back, probably to give them last minute instructions the rest of the marines didn’t need to hear.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The humans had retreated to the stasis couches. Each marine undressed themselves, climbed into the coffins, and placed a mask over their faces. Once the lids closed and locked, they were trapped in complete darkness. The mask delivered a natural sedative with psychoactive properties similar to psilocybin, the same chemical found in psychedelic mushrooms. In minutes, the marines’ breathing slowed, their minds filled with calm. Once they fell asleep, the mask automatically retracted and the coffin filled with liquid.

  Stasis liquid, composed of soluble oxygen much like what humans breathe in the womb, as well as nutrients, filled their noses and mouths. Their bodies, sedated to knock out primary motor functions, inhaled the liquid. The lungs absorbed the oxygen from the liquid, keeping the marines alive.

  Trippin ran a separate diagnostic from Black to ensure the marines were safe. They were. Trippin slept, a single thread waiting on a callback for the primary ion engines to start. Five minutes later, once all the marines were asleep and breathing in the liquid, Trippin received the alert.

  S&R Black engaged her ion engines assisted by a massive rush of heat vented from the fusion reactor. Blue plumes jetted from the conical exhausts. Powered by the nuclear reactors, millions of magnetic fields sprang to life adding their relatively weak force to that of the nuclear engines. S&R Black shuddered as 30x Earth’s gravitational force wracked the ship.

  Asleep in their coffins, their bodies protected by the complete absence of air in their lungs and the thick stasis liquid, the marines felt nothing. S&R Black cut the nuclear engines. The ion engines would sustain her acceleration for most of the trip to Pluto. Once she reached a single AU from the target, the ion engines would shutoff, and Black would make multiple elliptical passes through Pluto’s atmosphere to slow the ship’s velocity.

  Trippin received another alert when the ion engines cut out. Still crunching through its new instructions, essentially building itself a new brain, the sub-personality asked Black for more cycles. Black studied the request and rejected it because Trippin was already chewing extra cycles. Trippin reconfigured the request, wrapped it in an override code, and resent it. Black processed the request again, digested the override code, and increased Trippin’s access to additional unused cycles.

  While S&R Black Company slept in their stasis couches and Black steered the ship on the course Oakes had set, Trippin continued building itself. New nodes, new pathways, new predictive models, and new heuristics formed in its “brain.” The extra storage provided by the system upgrades allowed the sub-personality the space to continually increase its intelligence.

  As Black traveled the 19 AU to reach Pluto, Trippin consumed more and more data, sending secure acknowledgements and progress to the Trio on Neptune. The three AIs that created Trippin delivered more instructions. The security systems on Black purged the communications just as the Trio purged their own. There would be no history of the back and forth, the data sent, or the intent.

  Book 2: Pluto

  Chapter Nineteen

  The deep black of sleep flashed twice, and then a warm glow spread across his visual cortex. It was enough to knock him out of REM and bring him awake. Confused and groggy, Nobilis opened his eyes and stared into the darkened room. The overheads glowed with barely discernible light.

  Dr. Reed, a calm female voice said through his block, this is your alert call. Still confused, he glanced around the empty room looking for the voice’s owner. Dr. Reed? the voice said again.

  “Yes,” he mumbled aloud. “I hear you, Mickey.”

  When the voice spoke again, it was through the room’s speakers. “I’m sorry to wake you, Dr. Reed, but you set an alarm for when S&R Black approached orbit.”

  “Oh,” he said. He turned slightly and dangled his legs over the bed. A station-splitting yawn erupted from his mouth echoing in the cramped space. Hands on knees, he bent backward until his spine popped and then groaned with pleasure. “What’s their ETA?” he asked the room.

  Mickey responded an instant later. “Five standard hours.”

  “Do we have visual?”

  “Yes, Dr. Reed.”

  He nodded to no one. Scratching his belly, he walked to the room’s small holo-display. The moment he was less than a meter away, it sprang to life with the Exo-Observatory’s logo and the small rotating logo of SF Gov. “Show me.”

  The display faded out, replaced with a rectangle of utter black. A dot appeared in the center and slowly grew in size. The observatory’s optic telescopes, augmented with digital detail algorithms, took millisecond snapshots of the approaching object. The software intelligently filled in resulting pixel gaps giving the image a more complete picture.

  Nobilis whistled. S&R Black was coming. The view wasn’t head on, but at a nearly 45° angle. The ship was much larger than he thought it would be. “Jehovah,” he whispered. “How big is this damned thing?”

  “Large enough to carry thirty marines, a full complement of supplies, and various support and assault vehicles,” Mickey replied.

  He shook his head. He’d never been in the military and he’d never seen an S&R ship before. As far as he knew, there weren’t that many in SF Gov’s fleet. The fact they’d had to dispatch one from Neptune told him the fleet didn’t have any active patrols in the Kuiper Belt.

  “Any update on Mira?”

  The AI paused for a moment before answering. “Mira continues to tumble, although its trajectory has changed slightly.”

  Nobilis blinked. “Define slightly, Mickey. Explain.”

  “During your off-shift, a KBO in the Kuiper Belt either pushed the ship as it shattered, or collided with the hull. Regardless, Mira’s trajectory changed. She’s now on a collision course with Pluto, although its course may be altered again by nearby KBOs.”

  “Ice balls,” he said aloud and shook his head. “Guess S&R Black is going to need to tow her after all.”

  “Agreed, Dr. Reed,” Mickey said, sounding amused.

  He terminated the display and headed to the small closet. He stepped his long legs into the jumpsuit, zipped it up over his hairy chest, and stood up. “What shift are we in?”

  “Five hours into third shift,” the AI replied.

  “Good. I need coffee and something to eat. I also need all the reports from the last two days. We need to update the marines before they come out of stasis.”

  “Yes, Dr. Reed. Do you require anything else?”

  He shook his head. “Thank you for waking me, Mickey.”

  “My pleasure,” the sultry voice said.

  He spent the next two hours drinking coffee, compiling reports with Mickey’s help, and laying out courses for S&R Black. With updated telemetry, the search-and-rescue ship should have a much easier time traveling to Mira and keeping themselves safe from other KBOs floating in the area.

  When the ship was less than three hours away, he woke up all shifts, and began prepping the station for a refuel. S&R Black needed to get to Mira before something else altered its course. While the rest of the crew ran maintenance checks on the xenon gas supply and refueling equipment, he and Mickey recorded more messages for S&R Black and sent them. As he sipped more coffee, Nobilis sat on the so-called “bridge” of the observatory and watched the ship close the distance to Pluto.

  *****

  Trippin received communications from the observatory. The updated plans and telemetry were interesting, but hardly unexpected. The new AI
compiled the data and fired another packet to the Trio. Although the message would take two and half hours to reach Neptune, Trippin expected an immediate response from the governing AIs. By the time the ship reached Pluto and began refueling, the Trio would send final instructions for the docking procedures and the ultimate travel to Mira. Trippin waited as Black awoke all the systems and prepared for the marines exiting stasis.

  Chapter Twenty

  Deepest midnight, the stars appearing as pinpoints in an otherwise empty universe. He floated through the emptiness, ejecting stored CO2 from the back of his suit to provide thrust. The outline of a gigantic ship slowly cartwheeled through the darkness. He was closer now, a mere 100 meters from the colossal, wounded, metal titan.

  Controlling the jets with his block, he shot forward and to the side, all too aware he was running through his CO2 reserves at a fast clip. Fifty meters. Forty. Thirty. He could see the giant block letters spelling “Mira” on the side of the hull. He was heading for the “M” and the personnel airlock below it. The hatch to the lock jutted out from the hull like some kind of growth. As he approached it, he saw the Atmo-steel and transparent aluminum bubble had been crumpled like a tin can. The airlock was useless.

  With the last of his jets, he glided to the top of the mashed metal and stood upon its lip. He activated the magnetic boots and walked around the lip as he attempted to find enough space to crawl through. And then he saw it.

  His suit lights illuminated the metal, but that’s not what stopped him in his tracks and flatlined his heart. It was the eyes. The red and yellow eyes staring at him from the darkness inside the ship. Three of them. Then ten. Then thousands. He screamed in his helmet loud enough to make his ears ring. He detached his boots and pushed off into space. Cartwheeling away, he caught a glimpse of the airlock and what was coming through it.

  *****

  Dunn’s eyes opened and he immediately closed them again. The world was filled with blinding light. He raised his head above the liquid and tried to breathe. He couldn’t. He reached for the coffin edge, hung his head over the side, and coughed the thick fluid from his lungs in a spray. After a few more punishing coughs, cold metallic tasting air flooded his nostrils and into his lungs. Dunn took a deep breath before attempting to stand.

  Captain, Black’s voice said through his block, do you require medical assistance?

  He shook his head. Droplets of liquid fell from his scalp back into the coffin. Hands on the grips, he pulled himself into an upright position and slowly raised himself with his legs. “Can you dim the lights?” he said.

  Of course.

  The hellishly bright light dimmed considerably. Dunn gingerly opened his eyes, blinked several times to clear the excess liquid, and stared down at the grav-plated floor. He shook his head hard and liquid flowed out of his ears. The sound of other marines coming awake finally permeated his groggy thoughts. He turned slightly and saw Taulbee and Gunny both standing up in their coffins, each man looking as though he’d fall over at any moment.

  “Where are we?” he asked Black.

  We are an hour out from Pluto orbit, Captain.

  “An hour out?” He wished his brain would stop wanting him to lay back down for a nap. More importantly, he wished the goddamned bio-nannies would get their shit together and start clearing the fog from his thoughts. “You woke us up rather late.”

  Navigational anomaly, Captain, Black said. I’ll explain the situation once you are dressed and have had your coffee, sir.

  He grinned at that. Coffee. God, but coffee would hit the spot. But first things first. He stepped out of the coffin and onto the cold grav-plated floor. Naked, Dunn walked on unsteady feet to one of the dozen spigots jutting from the Atmo-steel wall. He pushed the recessed switch and warm water flowed from the showerhead.

  Rotating himself beneath the spray, he rubbed his hands across his skin, sliding off excess stasis liquid. The drains caught both the water and stasis liquid for recycling. When he no longer felt as though he’d been drowned in thick batter, he shut off the shower, and walked to the dryer. The vents opened immediately, rapidly puffing air across his body. He raised his arms above his head and stretched as they did their work. After a couple of turns, he felt dry.

  Taulbee walked beneath one of the showerheads and began to bathe. He cast a drowsy look at Dunn. “Dammit, sir,” he said, “we’re still alive.”

  Dunn grinned. “Aye, Lieutenant. But the day’s not over yet.”

  Taulbee laughed as he turned around beneath the spray. Seven more spigots activated as the other marines crawled from their coffins and began the process of waking up and cleaning up. The bio-nannies had finally decided to start their cycle, micro-dosing him with adrenaline to get his body kickstarted. His brain felt less fuzzy now. I think I actually had a thought, he said to himself. Dunn uttered a short bark of laughter and walked to the lockers.

  He put his hand a few centimeters away from the door and it slid open. Dunn reached in, removed a jumpsuit, and shuffled into it. As he put on his boots, Taulbee sat on the bench next to him. His short hair glistened with moisture beneath the slowly brightening overhead lights.

  “You get a message from Black?” he asked Taulbee.

  “No, sir.”

  “Hmm,” Dunn said. The boots auto-laced around his feet. “Well, meet me on the bridge when you get cleaned up. I’m getting a coffee first.” He slapped Taulbee’s shoulder. “I think you should, too.”

  “Roger that,” Taulbee said.

  Before he left the stasis room, most of the marines were washed and suiting up. Since there weren’t enough spigots for everyone, the marines took turns. Gunny was already yelling at them to hurry the fuck up. Dunn smiled as he left the room.

  Black had already activated the galley. During the trip, the room had resembled a locked-up space with doors and cabinets, but no machinery, no surfaces, nothing. It might as well have just been an empty storage area. Counter tops had slid from the walls and the beverage dispenser hung from a metal support beam.

  “Bless you,” he said to no one. He pulled a z-g mug from the cupboard, placed it beneath the dispenser, and reached for the holo-display. He needn’t have bothered. Steaming black liquid flowed from the dispenser and filled the mug. “When did you learn to do that?” he asked Black.

  The AI’s female voice sounded amused. “All part of the upgrade, sir.”

  He raised an eyebrow. She sounded different. “Well, thank you, Black. I appreciate it.”

  “Very welcome, Captain.”

  The steel mug felt warm and inviting, although he imagined the coffee was probably hot enough to burn skin. Unless the dispenser had finally been calibrated properly. He took a test sip and then held the mug away. “Did the Trio finally teach you to make coffee?”

  “Aye, sir. I received a wealth of new data packages before we left.”

  He toasted the empty room. “Outstanding,” he said and took another sip. The coffee was hot enough to be the right consistency and taste without frying his tongue and throat. Also, Black had added sweetener and…was that cream? Tasted like it. Dunn suddenly thought this was the best cup of coffee he’d ever had.

  Only fifteen minutes had passed since he'd escaped his coffin, but he already felt awake and full of energy. Except, of course, for the rumbling in his stomach. He walked to another dispenser, waved his hand, and grabbed the nutrition brick that fell out. Coffee. Snack. He was ready. It was time to get through the messages and telemetry from both Neptune and the journey.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Black’s bridge wasn’t large. It had three chairs for the command crew and enough room to fit two additional personnel if they stood at the back. Oakes sat in the pilot seat, his eyes studying the graphs and tallies of numbers. The AI had pulled them out of stasis late. The Captain wanted to know why. So did Oakes.

  Dunn sat in his elevated chair, alternately looking at a private holo-display and staring out the trans-aluminum cockpit window. Oakes wasn’t sure what
the Captain was looking at, but he had a puzzled expression on his face. That’s not good, he thought.

  Dickerson had brought them coffee twice as well as breakfast. He knew Dickerson wasn’t a suck-up, so either Gunny thought it was fitting punishment for being late to the hangar before departure, or Corporal Kalimura had levied the task. Either way, it was funny. The first time the marine entered the bridge, he held a towel over his arm like some kind of waiter. Dunn had growled at him, but ultimately smiled. Oakes and Nobel had fought to keep from laughing out loud.

  Regardless of the reason why, Oakes was glad for the occasional distraction, not to mention the coffee itself. He was already working his way through a third mag-mug. Out in space, coffee was the best friend a pilot could have. Bio-nannies could keep you awake and alert for a long time, but the high led to an ultimate crash that was much worse than good old-fashioned caffeine. So when he could, Oakes chose coffee. Besides, Black had finally learned the proper recipe.

  He took a sip, placed the mug on the arm of his chair, and slid a hand across the display. The graphs disappeared, replaced with a map of Black’s flight from Neptune to Pluto. Oakes blinked at it and frowned. He made a private connection to Black. Why were we diverted?

  May I show you, Lieutenant?

  Of course, he thought. Like most people, he loathed making direct connections to an AI, but he’d learned over the years how to keep his private thoughts private. At least for the most part.

  The holo display melted into a map of the space between Neptune and Pluto. As he watched, a tiny white dot, ironically labeled “Black,” orbited Neptune twice and then shot out into space. The view quickly sped up with a time counter in the lower left corner. Three red dots appeared between Neptune and Pluto. As Black neared each, the view zoomed in.

  During the journey, we came across three unexpected Kuiper Belt Objects. I was able to analyze each as we passed, at least to check their primary makeup. In each case, the KBOs were ice-covered ore. Probably ejected by an unknown collision deep in the belt, or they entered our system without tripping Pluto’s alarms. Regardless, the three objects did not match any known KBOs. I sent the data to the Trio, but they have not responded with additional information.