“Disengaging FTL ring,” came Emerson’s voice over the comms. The light vibration of the bridge lasted several seconds, as the ship slowed the spinning of the ring.
“Dropping out,” said Boyett. The view screens flickered as the greys of hyperspace were replaced by star fields. The FTL ring moved slowly past their fields of vision, as it came to a complete stop. All eyes were on the screens. The centre screen showed a large bright star ahead.
“Report,” said Barrington. Chavel looked over his navigational readings.
“Checking, sir, stand by,” he replied. Tyrell moved from the back of the bridge over to Carrie and began checking data.
“Report,” he said again with gusto. Carrie looked at Tyrell, who looked at Chavel.
“This isn’t it,” said Chavel. Young joined them at the navigation station and began looking at the data.
“Explain,” said Barrington.
“Sir, this isn’t the Aristaeus system. The star is twice its mass and these are not the correct planets, according to assigned data provided by stellar cartography.” Barrington’s eyes moved to Tyrell and Carrie.
“Charly, any contacts?” he asked Boyett, who was scanning the area.
“I have a planetary body at one hundred thousand kilometres. No asteroidal contacts,” she said.
“Let’s see the planet,” he said. Boyett brought it up on the main view screen to the front of the bridge. It was dark and featureless. The position of the ship gave it a poor angle on the shadowed part of the planet.
“Tyrell?” he said to the doctor who was looking at the planet. Tyrell shook his head.
“I don’t understand, John. We need more data to get an astronomical fix. I suggest getting a closer look at that planet for starters.” He looked at Carrie, who was staring at the image. She was frowning.
“Carrie?” he asked his daughter. She didn’t answer.
“Carrie,” he said again. She looked at him. He noticed she looked worried.
“I agree with Doctor Tyrell,” she said softly.
“Charly, lock up the FTL ring and set a course for the nearest planet,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
“Captain, I have a signal bearing 112 mark 224,” said Chavel.
“What sort of signal?” Tyrell said aloud, leaning over the lieutenant and staring at his console. Boyett looked at the captain. As did Chavel. Barrington just nodded his head.
“Highly organised,” he answered.
“Can you pinpoint?” said Barrington.
“Yes, sir. It’s coming from something in orbit around the planet we are currently en route to.”
Barrington looked over at Young. “Care to take a look, Mr Young?” he said. Young nodded eagerly and sat by a computer station to the aft of the bridge.
“Route the signal to Mr Young, will you, David? Let’s see if we can decode it. Tyrell, why don’t you assist?” Tyrell nodded and sat by Young at the computer station.
“Time to orbit, Charly?” he said.
“Eleven minutes,” she said.
Anything? Barrington thought to Carrie.
Something, she replied in his thoughts. I’m not sure.
The tension level on the bridge began to rise. “Everyone stay sharp,” said Barrington, deciding to use it to focus his team.
“I have a fix on the radio signal, I think I can get a visual,” said Chavel.
“Do it,” said Barrington. The centre screen flickered, changing its image from the planet to what looked like a small orbiting asteroid.
“It’s just under one mile in diameter,” said Chavel. “It’s definitely not rock. Sensors are sending back details of metallic composites. The computer is unable to identify some of the materials, but this is artificial, sir.”
Barrington rubbed his thumb over his eyebrow. He didn’t like this at all. Whatever it was it didn’t look particularly friendly. Jennifer would have had problems with that sort of scientific analysis, but he trusted his instincts and they were usually right.
“Mr. Young, anything?” he asked the Jycorp CEO, who seemed to be right at home on the bridge.
“The signal is definitely artificial in origin,” he said. “It bears no resemblance to that of the signal makers’ coding. If I had to guess I would say that this is something else. They’re not mathematical constants. And they’re being directed towards the planet surface.”
“David, can we get any readings on the surface?” he asked Chavel.
“On it, sir,” he said, anticipating his request.
Still nothing? he thought to Carrie. She didn’t answer.
“Dice?” he said out loud. She turned to him with her eyes wide open.
“Turn the ship around!” she screamed.
Seconds later the bridge began to explode all around them.
“Charly, reverse engines!” shouted Barrington over the sound of the exploding consoles and comm reports from the engine room. Boyett was currently lying on the bridge deck plating, after being thrown from the flight controls. Her left arm was on fire. Chavel had jumped on her to put out the flames that nearly engulfed her, when two of the view screens blew up overhead. Carrie’s head was bleeding from hitting the corner of the navigational controls. Barrington had managed to stay in the centre chair. Boyett clambered her way back into the flight chair and began trying to make emergency manoeuvres, her arm still smouldering.
“Sir, something has sent an enormous electrical charge through the hull of this ship,” she said. “I have no forward or reverse momentum control,” she shouted. Young had a fire suppression system in his hand and was putting out some flames at the back of the bridge.
“What’s our position, Chavel?” Barrington said.
“We are twenty thousand kilometres from the planet’s atmosphere and holding,” he said.
“Engine room,” he said, after tapping the comms system on his chair.
“Sir, this is Llewellyn,” came the young woman’s voice. She sounded scared.
“Talk to me,” said Barrington.
“Mr Emerson is under the FTL drive at the moment securing a plasma leak,” she said, her voice shaking. “We’ve had a collapse of one of the primary coolant generators. One of our engineers was inside, sir. I think he’s dead.”
Barrington moved past the news of the crew’s death quickly. “Where’s Tosh?” he said.
“Sir, Doctor Tosh is helping extinguish a fire at the rear of the engine room. The FTL is offline and I’m getting fluctuations from the environmental systems control. We’re losing power, sir. Whatever hit us has drained the central core. We’ve had some injuries down here, but Doctor Brubaker is sending a team.” Barrington thought about the escape life pods. He caught Carrie’s eye. She shook her head.
Something knows we’re here. It has us, she thought to him.
“Do what you can. I want updates every five minutes. Barrington out.”
He tapped the comm system again.
“Medical bay, this is the bridge,” he said.
“Sorry, Captain, unless it’s urgent I have my hands full right now. Call back later,” said Brubaker without a beat.
“Understood. Bridge out.”
“Sir, I have forward motion,” said Boyett.
“All stop, Charly,” said Barrington.
“Yes, sir, I understand, but there’s external force acting on the ship,” she said.
“Chavel?” Barrington said.
“Confirmed, sir. We’re back on course for the planet, traveling at fifteen hundred KPH,” said Chavel.
“Engine room, I need thruster control,” said Barrington into the comms system.
“Emerson here, sir. I wish I knew what the hell just hit us, but I can’t get you thruster control while one of the coolant tanks is still offline. We can’t get access to the control room u
ntil it’s vented. We’re working on that. The Betty is in bad shape, sir. Right now we’re running damage control. I don’t have any answers as to why we’re moving, but I’m working on it. Emerson out.”
Barrington felt helpless as control of his ship slowly fell away from under him. Something had just attacked and captured him and he hadn’t even seen it coming.
“Velocity increasing,” said Boyett from the flight chair.
“Sir, we’re on a direct collision course with the planet directly ahead at this speed and at this angle we’ll burn up in the atmosphere,” said Chavel.
“Time to impact?” said Barrington.
“Six minutes,” said Chavel.
“Can you get me a visual?” he said calmly. Carrie was now sitting next to her father’s centre seat and nursing the cut on her head.
“Trying to,” said Chavel. The main view screen flickered to life and the planet was now in full view. It looked like one solid landmass.
“Tyrell, what can you tell me?” he said, turning to the doctor whose face was much paler than usual.
“I don’t understand it,” he said, turning to a computer console.
“These should be the correct coordinates. I...” he trailed off as he began examining data.
“Sir, the land masses on the surface of the planet seem to be changing,” said Chavel, puzzled.
“What?” said Barrington. Barrington looked at the planet on the screen above him. Barrington began to enter the sequence into the escape pod programming banks on his control pad, but Boyett interrupted the sequence.
“Sir, we’re slowing down!” she said. “I still have no control over the flight operations of the ship.” She turned and faced the captain.
“There’s something down there,” whispered Carrie quietly. A control panel chirping brought Boyett back to her forward facing position.
“Trajectory is being altered,” she said.
“By what?” barked Barrington.
“I have atmospheric entry protocols, sir,” she said. “We are beginning a descent.” Her hands flew across the flight controls.
“All hands, this is the captain,” he said into his comms. “We are making entry on a nearby planet. Our engines are down so this may be a rough landing. Brace yourselves. Barrington out.” He closed the channel and sat back into the centre seat.
“Everyone strap in,” he said to the bridge personnel.
“I’m picking up signals on the surface,” said Tyrell from a computer station. There was no response from Barrington or anyone else on the bridge. All eyes were on the approaching atmosphere. Boyett and Chavel activated their chair restraints, which curved around their shoulders.
“Changing course again, Captain,” said Boyett. “We’re slowing to entry velocities.”
The tension level on the bridge began to mount as the mysterious force that had control of the ship led it through the atmosphere of the planet.
“Report,” said Barrington to Boyett.
“Couldn’t have done it better myself, sir. Whatever has us is bringing us in on a smooth glide path towards continental land mass directly ahead,” she said.
“Chavel?” Barrington asked.
“I’m reading nitrogen oxygen atmosphere. Breathable. Class M, sir. No vegetation and the ground looks strange. It’s reading as metallic.”
Barrington looked at the visuals. The dark approaching mass was difficult to get a read on. He needed answers and control of his ship.
“Engine room, I need thruster control,” he said with haste into his comm panel.
“I’m trying, Captain,” said Emerson. “It’s a real mess down here.”
“Figure it out, Mr Emerson, before we hit the ground at a few thousand kilometres a second,” said Barrington, without hesitation. There was a pause on the comms.
“Yes, sir,” came the quiet reply.
“Sir, we’re slowing again,” said Boyett.
“Altitude ten thousand feet,” she said. “Slowing again. Forward velocity now approaching zero.” She cleared her throat.
“Tell me we have ventral thrusters,” said Barrington.
“No, sir, we have no thrusters whatsoever,” Young suddenly stated the obvious. He had been seated quietly at the rear of the bridge. “So we’re just going to fall out of the sky?” he said, standing up.
“Calm yourself, Mr Young,” Barrington said.
“I doubt very much that whatever is currently in control of this ship is just going to drop us onto the...”
Barrington was suddenly thrown from his chair.
“Dropping, sir,” shouted Boyett. The force of the drop in altitude was enough to momentarily lift anything not strapped or bolted down nearly a half a foot off the ground. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to make Tyrell throw up the contents of his stomach all over the console he had been working on.
“We’re in free fall,” shouted Boyett.
“Engine room!” Barrington shouted into his console.
“Understood, Captain!” shouted Emerson back. Barrington could hear shouting in the engine room as the reality of what was happening filtered through the crew.
“Five thousand feet,” shouted Boyett. “No flight control.” Barrington began feeling Carrie’s fear from beside him. Instinctively, she grabbed his hand and held it tightly. Her father squeezed it as he gritted his teeth, looking at the view screen as it showed a quickly approaching ground. The ship fell for what seemed like forever.
“Bridge, this is the engine room. You have thrusters,” shouted Emerson through the comms.
“Charly!” Barrington said to his head of flight.
“Firing!” she replied, not needing the order. The descent eased.
“We’re slowing,” she said.
“We’re still going to hit, sir, at this speed,” said Chavel.
Barrington looked at Carrie and tapped his comms panel. “All hands brace for impact!”
18
The planet
19:22 Martian Standard.
The last thing Carrie remembered before she blacked out was her father’s voice shouting over the noise of the explosion of the impact. She woke in darkness. She raised her hands to her face and felt a warm trickle of blood slide down her cheek. Her head was pounding. A spark of light to her left gave a momentary flash of light into the bridge. She couldn’t see anyone and the smell of something burning began to play heavily on her mind. Another spark from a nearby console silhouetted a dark figure standing above her. She recoiled at the suddenness of seeing them. She felt a touch at her shoulder.
“Who’s there?” she proclaimed.
“Carrie, it’s me. It’s David,” came a soft, familiar voice. The bridge began to stir with movement coming from all around her.
“Emergency lights,” came her father’s voice, sounding winded. The bridge came to life as the backup lights came on. Carrie shielded her eyes for a moment and looked around as Chavel helped her to her feet. She became dizzy and grabbed his shoulder for stability. Boyett was still strapped into the flight control seat, although she was still unconscious. The captain moved across the bridge and placed a hand on her arm.
“Charly?” he said, while checking her vitals.
“Sit down, Carrie. Let me stop this bleeding,” said Chavel, guiding Carrie over to a computer console. He removed a med kit from under a closed panel and began sealing the cut on her head with a portable dermal regenerator.
“What happened?” she asked, looking around the bridge at the people now picking themselves up off the ground. Doctor Tyrell was sitting upright next to the navigational control holding his arm and looking dazed.
“We’ve hit the ground, but we’re still in one piece thanks to the thrusters firing at the last second. Are you all right?” he asked, looking into her eyes. She nodded.
“Lieuten
ant, I need a neural stimulant,” said Barrington, trying to prise Boyett’s eyes open. Chavel left Carrie seated and took a small vial of stimulant to the captain, who placed it on Boyett’s neck. He waited.
“Charly?” he said softly. “Boyett, wake up. That’s an order,” he shouted. She snapped her eyes open and recoiled at the shock.
“Easy, Charly, take a breath. Anything broken?” he asked. She took several deep breaths, trying to get the effects of the stimulant under control, then looked around the bridge.
“No, sir, I think I’m okay. We down?” she said. Barrington smiled.
“Of that you can be sure. I need a status report,” he said, looking at both Boyett and Chavel. He looked at Carrie. You okay, Dice?” She nodded. Chavel looked at her.
“Everyone still here?” Barrington said to the bridge. There were some crew members who clearly needed some patching up and Young was beginning to stand up to the rear of the bridge. Barrington walked over to the centre seat and tapped the comms channel.
“Engine room?” he said. No answer.
“Medical bay,” he said after changing the comm settings.
“Comms are down, sir,” Chavel said.
“Are the lifts working?” he asked.
“Internal power is on emergency. They should be,” Chavel said.
“Carrie, come with me. Tyrell, I want you to secure your lab,” he said, looking at the doctor. Carrie knew what he meant by that. The Black was still under heavy containment but it was worth checking. Tyrell gave a slight protest, but it was quickly muted. Her father knew exactly when to turn on the command aspects of his training and he became a force not to be reckoned with nor disobeyed in a situation like this one. Tyrell began to walk to the lift.
“Tyrone,” he said, stopping the doctor in his tracks.
“As soon as you’re done, I want you to work with the bridge on getting a star fix. I want to know where the hell we are and why we’re not where we’re supposed to be. Got it?” She noticed a change in her father’s disposition. He did not like surprises and this was a big one.
“Science can be reckless,” he had told her a number of years after the death of her mother. Tyrell nodded and left the bridge. Carrie hadn’t spoken much to Tyrell in a number of weeks, due to her reassignment and training. He had become even more difficult to read. Their eyes met briefly as the lift doors closed. He face was expressionless. Seconds later a klaxon sounded.
The Agathon: Book One Page 23
