T'aafhal Legacy 1: Ghosts of Orion

by Doug L. Hoffman

  “Lower the deck gravity.”

  “What?”

  “I said, lower the deck gravity. It'll make it easier to move them.”

  “Great idea, Frank. I knew it was a good idea calling you. Assuming we do get off this rust bucket, what happens next?”

  “I'm going to call that merchant captain and ask him to come pick us up.”

  “You think he will?”

  “I'm declaring an emergency. Law of the sea applies. All ships in the area are required to provide assistance.”

  “OK. We'll get to work moving the others. Bridge out.”

  Chapter 27

  Bridge, Peggy Sue

  “Captain, I'm getting an SOS beacon from the Fortune,” reported Mizuki from her console.

  Now what? “Peggy Sue, open a channel to the Fortune.”

  “Captain, the SOS is coming from one of the Fortune's shuttles.”

  “Well contact the shuttle then.”

  “Yes, Captain. On your console now.”

  “Ship signaling an emergency please respond, this is the merchant ship Peggy Sue.”

  “Peggy Sue, this is the ESS Fortune. We are in trouble here and need assistance.”

  “Who am I talking to?”

  “This is Frank Hoenig, one of the shuttle pilots. I'm locked in my shuttle getting ready to separate from the ship, but there are several people trapped forward.”

  “We received transmissions that indicated the contagion from the planet was loose on board your ship. Is that correct.”

  “Yes, it's already wiped out half the crew.”

  “How do you expect those in the bow to escape, Frank?”

  “They are dragging those who were stunned into the escape pods. As soon as everyone is secured they will eject the pods.”

  “Stunned? Who was stunned and by whom?”

  “It's a long story.”

  “Humor me, Mr. Hoenig.”

  “The Captain went berserk, came out of his sea cabin with a stunner and started zapping people. He stunned three settlers we rescued from Zion and a couple of crewmen before they managed to overpower him. There are only two effectives left on the Bridge.”

  “Can the people on the bridge cut the engines? It appears that Fortune is maneuvering for the alter-space transition point to Earth.”

  “No, according to Leon the Captain gave some kind of code word and locked the helm controls.”

  “Mr. Hoenig, I cannot let Fortune depart for Earth. Not with the contagion on board.”

  “I understand, Peggy Sue. You can call the bridge and talk to Leon if you think it will do any good. I'm undocking and getting clear of Fortune. I would greatly appreciate a lift.”

  “Copy that, Mr. Hoenig. Get clear. I will call Mr. Leon.”

  Bridge, ESS Fortune

  Leon and the crewman had finished one trip down to the level where the escape pod access was. They managed to fit the two unconscious crewmembers and the two acolytes into the lift. After securing them in two of the escape pods they returned for the Captain and the Preacher. As they arrived a call was coming in on the comm console.

  “ESS Fortune, ESS Fortune, Peggy Sue. Please reply.”

  “Now what?” the crewman asked.

  “That would be our ride home once we get out of here.” Leon moved to the console to answer the hail.

  “Go Peggy Sue, This is the Fortune.”

  “Is this Mr. Leon?”

  “Yes, it is. And it's just Leon.”

  Pause.

  “What is your status, Leon?”

  “We got four people secured in the escape pods and we are about to take the last two down. Then we will be getting the hell outta here. Over.”

  “Copy, Fortune. The clock is running and you need to get off that ship, now.”

  “We're on it. Give us five more minutes. Fortune out.”

  Leon turned to the other man and said, “Get the preacher up, I'll go open the elevator door.”

  The crewman grunted and bent to pick up Brother Abraham's inert form. From his chair the Captain cackled like a mad hen. Leon walked over to the lift entrance and opened the door.

  He turned back in time to see the first black thread emerge from the ventilator. Leon's sense of self preservation took over—he lept into the elevator and hit the door close button. He watched terrified as black threads wrapped the other crewman and Brother Abraham. The door slid home as the black sinews reached Captain Chakrabarti, helpless and bound in his chair.

  Sid was still cackling as the darkness engulfed him.

  Shuttle B, ESS Fortune

  Instruments on the control panel finally indicated that the shuttle's reactor was on line. Frank switched the shuttle to internal power and released the docking clamps. With practiced ease he lifted the shuttle from its docking cradle and opened space between the ship and his craft.

  “Bridge, Shuttle Bravo. Leon, buddy, are you still on board?”

  No answer.

  “Peggy Sue, Shuttle Bravo. Come in.”

  “Go Shuttle Bravo.”

  “I am free of the ship, what course should I steer for rendezvous?”

  “For now just get away from the Fortune. Put as much distance between you and the ship as you can.”

  “Roger that, Peggy Sue. Break. I have not heard from Leon in several minutes, can you raise the Fortune?”

  “That is a negative, Shuttle Bravo.”

  Crew Level, ESS Fortune

  The elevator door opened on the deserted crew level, one deck down from the bridge. Leon looked out the door and then bolted for the escape pod access hatches. The closest pod was the one with the Navigator and other crewman. As he ran past the entrance to the pod he hit the emergency launch button.

  Ten meters away was the entrance to the second pod, the one with the two settlers. Leon dove through the entrance. Tucking into a ball, he grabbed the lip of the pod's hatch, letting his momentum spin him about. For an instant he thought he saw movement at the entrance.

  Leon slapped the large red emergency launch button. The pod's hatch slammed shut and a heartbeat later it launched itself into space. There was no deck gravity inside the pod and Leon ended up with both of the acolytes on top of him, his face pressed to the small view port in the access hatch.

  As the ship fell away Leon could see the empty hatch where the other escape pod had been ejected. With any luck the five of them made it off the doomed transport alive.

  Bridge, Peggy Sue

  “Captain, I am picking up rescue beacon signals from two escape pods that were just ejected from the Fortune.”

  “Very good, Dr. Ogawa,” the Captain replied. “Mr. Umky, target the Fortune with a pair of torpedoes. Antimatter warheads. A two second delay between the launches.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” the bear replied.

  “We will give the pods and the shuttle enough time to get free of the blast radius before firing.”

  After a moment's consideration, the Captain called Shuttle B.

  “Shuttle Bravo, Peggy Sue.”

  “Go Peggy Sue.”

  “You might wish to put as much of the shuttle's mass between you and the Fortune as you can. You are clear of the blast radius but there will be a burst of radiation after the torpedoes detonate.”

  “Torpedoes? I copy, Peggy Sue.”

  “The escape pods are at a sufficient distance from the target, Captain,” Mizuki reported.

  “Very good. You may fire when ready, Umky.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Two muted thuds, separated by as many seconds, marked the launch of the gravitonic torpedoes. Once free of the ship they accelerated at 1,000 gravities, locked onto the transport ship. Holographic overlays of the torpedo tracks were superimposed on the view forward through the Peggy Sue's transparent nose.

  Fourteen seconds later the first torpedo impacted Fortune's shields, traveling at a relative velocity of half a million kilometers per hour. The shields had as much effect as tissue paper. The first warh
ead detonated.

  Peggy Sue's computer automatically darkened the transparent panels in the ship's nose to dampen the star bright flash of antimatter annihilating matter. The first flash was followed by another, two seconds later, when the second warhead detonated inside the expanding cloud of plasma and debris created by the first.

  “Sensors show the target is destroyed, Captain,” said Umky with a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

  “Very good, Mr. Umky. Dr. Ogawa, any indication of solid debris?”

  “No, Captain. The Fortune is now just an expanding cloud of plasma.”

  “Excellent. Peggy Sue, sound secure from battle stations.” Billy Ray took a moment to ponder his handiwork. I sure hope there was no one left alive on that ship.

  “Mr. Lewis, let's go see to the survivors.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Sick Bay, Peggy Sue

  Shadi and Dorri lay side by side on twin medical beds made up with stiff white linen. They stared in wonder at the multicolored displays that were attached to each bed, showing heartbeat, respiration, and other bodily functions the girls could only guess at.

  “How long do you think they will keep us here?” asked Dorri in Farsi.

  “I don't know,” her sister replied. “Just relax and enjoy the first clean bed you've had since leaving the transport ship.”

  “I would, if I didn't feel like a specimen in a science experiment.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the ship's doctor, another African woman—no, an African-American woman. Betty White, MD, paused at the foot of Dorri's bed and consulted her data tablet. She nodded and moved to Shadi's bed, repeating the performance.

  “Well, ladies. It looks like your time spent on the colonization ship and the planet's surface has done you no harm. You have some vitamin deficiencies but otherwise you seem to be well nourished and in good health.”

  Betty smiled brightly at the girls, giving them a chance to ask questions. When they didn't, she continued. “Shadi, you are sixteen, and Dorri, you are thirteen, is that correct?”

  Both girls nodded.

  “And you have been having regular menstrual cycles?”

  Dorri blushed and Shadi answered “yes.”

  “Dorri?”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “Good, stress and the strange environment might have caused you some irregularities. I take it neither of you have been sexually active?”

  This time both young women blushed.

  “That's what my instruments say, but it never hurts to ask.” Betty smiled again, trying to make them feel at ease.

  “What's going to happen to us now?” asked Shadi.

  “Before the blackness came we were about to be married off to older men,” Dorri added.

  “Really? Well that will not be happening here, not unless you find someone and both of you want to get married. Though I must say, you two are a little young to be getting married to anyone. You especially, Dorri.”

  The relief on the sisters' faces was obvious. They were half afraid they would be sold into bondage or added to the Captain's harem.

  “What are we going to do? I mean to earn our keep,” asked Shadi. “On the planet we took care of the sheep, but I doubt you need a couple of shepherds on this ship.”

  “Oh, you never know. We do have a lot of gardens located around the ship. They grow fresh fruits and vegetables for the people on board. But you are right, we don't keep any livestock. The Captain will be along soon to talk with you about such things.”

  “Were there any other survivors?” asked Dorri, no longer able to contain herself. “Are we the only ones to make it out alive?”

  “I'm not sure. There are several people who made it off the Fortune before the Captain blew it up. I suspect I will know as soon as they bring the survivors on board. They will have to be examined just like you were.”

  “The Captain blew up the transport ship?”

  “Yes, Shadi. It was infested with the same contagion that destroyed your settlement—all three settlements. I'm sorry you lost all of your friends, but at least you two are safe, and you still have each other.” Betty's eyes got a faraway look. “I had a sister once, but I lost here during the bombardment.”

  The two girls looked at each other as the Doctor stood silent, lost in her memories. Then Betty's focus returned, as did her smile.

  “Alright, that's all for now. I'm going to keep you a bit longer until the last few test results come back from the autolab. The controls on the sides of the beds will let you sit upright and along the left sides there are fold out trays. The trays contain data surfaces that you can use to access the ship's library. While you are waiting you can look things up about the ship and crew, or whatever. The computer will help you if you get stuck. Right, Peggy Sue?”

  “Certainly, Doctor White,” said a new voice, seemingly from nowhere. The computer then said in Farsi, “it will be good to practice my Farsi with some native speakers.”

  The girls' eyes went wide when the computer addressed them in Farsi. They then busied themselves adjusting their beds and accessing the data surfaces.

  Betty chuckled. “I can see you two will be just fine in here. The Captain will be along shortly to talk with you. Then he will take you to the mess hall for lunch.”

  Chapter 28

  Cargo Hold, Peggy Sue

  The armored figure of Chief Zackly stood in the middle of the deck, fists on hips, elbows out. To either side stood a Marine in heavy armor, brandishing a large UV cutting laser. After observing the contagion in action during the rescue mission, it was recognized that railguns would not be an effective weapon against it. Consequently, the engineers had devised a new weapon for the Marines—cutting lasers modified to have a wider beam spread. The idea was, if any of the escape pods had black crap hiding on them, the Marines would turn the whole pod into plasma before the contagion could find a way onto the ship.

  “All right, Hitch, poke the first one through the cargo door.”

  Steve Hitch was outside the ship, piloting a space tug—really nothing more than a heavy push plate with surrounding grapples and a cluster of repulsors to move it about. The tug didn't even have a cabin; Hitch was wearing regular space armor, as was Matt Jacobs in the second tug.

  “Pushing her in now, Chief,” the petty officer replied. Aside from causing trouble and annoying the Marines, Hitch and Jacobs were both qualified to operate most of the small craft on board the Peggy Sue. They could even fly the Captain's pinnace in a pinch, not that the Captain would let them.

  The Peggy Sue had been modified to incorporated the T'aafhal's magic permeable hatch material, like that installed over the docks on Farside. Though the starboard cargo door had not been physically opened, it was possible for solid objects to pass through the seemingly intact hull. Of course, the permeability was controllable and had to be switched on, otherwise people and things could accidentally fall overboard into the vacuum of space.

  There was another complication, however. An object passing into the ship had an atmosphere on one side and vacuum on the other. The pressure of the air in the ship, though it could not escape through the barrier, still exerted force on the object. An object that stopped part of the way through the barrier would pop back out into space if not held in position by an opposing force. Getting that force right using the tug was Steve Hitch's job.

  As the roughly spherical escape pod passed into the ship the force trying to expel it reach its peak half way in. The sailor expertly adjusted the amount of force generated by the tug's repulsors until equilibrium was reached, and the pod was sticking half way through the door.

  “All right, hold it right there, Hitch,” yelled the grizzled old Chief. They were linked by their suit radios so yelling was not required. Still, habits learned during decades spent on ships at sea died hard.

  “Gotcha, Chief,” Hitch answered.

  The Chief gave the visible portion of the pod the eye. He was not alone. Peggy Sue'
s computer also examined the pod from all possible angles and at great magnification. Satisfied that there was no contamination on the pod's surface, the ship spoke to the Chief.

  “It appears to be clean, Chief Zackly.”

  “Great.” The Chief was not one to hold long conversations with equipment, even a starship.

  Leaning in closely, the Chief peered through the transparent viewing port in the middle of the pod's circular hatch. Inside, peering back, were a couple of disheveled crewmen from the Fortune. The Chief snorted.

  “All right, yous. Let's get these shipwrecked sailors out of the lifeboat and onto the deck.”

  An engineer, also suited up, stepped up to the pod and fiddled with the control panel next to the hatch. With a hiss of escaping gas the hatch swung upward, and the passengers tumbled out onto the deck. They quickly scrambled to their feet and found themselves staring at a small man in space armor.

  “That all of ya?”

  “Uh, yeah. Who are you?”

  “I'm Master Chief Zackly, the chief of this ship, you knuckle head. I'll ask the questions here.”

  Both sailors swallowed hard.

  “Hitch, get this piece of garbage off my deck.”

  The open escape pod quickly melted back through the cargo door as though it never existed. The Chief looked the refuges up and down with a critical eye.

  “Sound off! Name and rank. You first, Chatty Cathy.”

  “Raoul Mendez, ship's navigator,” the man said.

  “Not anymore.” Zackly shifted his gaze to the second man. “And you?”

  “Ethan Jones, Sir. Able Spacer.”

  “Do not sir me, sonny, I work for a living.”

  Jones stared at the cargo hold wall, eyes focused on a spot two feet above the Chief's head, doing his best to remember how to stand at attention.

  “All right, Sheffield! Get these two sorry sailors outta here. Take 'em to the showers and get 'em new jumpsuits.”

  “Aye, aye, Chief,” Lou replied, motioning for the still disoriented survivors to follow him forward.

  “Jacobs! Push the other piece of jetsam into the hold.”