Flight of the Tristan

by D. B. Reynolds-Moreton

  FLIGHT

  OF THE

  TRISTAN

  D. B. REYNOLDS-MORETON

  Flight of the Tristan

  This edition Copyright © 2012 by sci-fi-cafe.com.

  www.sci-fi-cafe.com

  Story Copyright © 2012 by D. B. Reynolds-Moreton

  The right of the author to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owners.

  ISBN 978-1-908387-60-8 (ePUB)

  ISBN 978-1-908387-59-2 (MOBI)

  eBook production by Oxford eBooks

  www.oxford-ebooks.com

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  CHAPTER 1

  THE NUCLEAR SUBMARINE Tristan was gently cruising along on the surface in the southern Atlantic. Her commanding officer, Commander John Brentford, and Executive Officer (generally called XO), a slim built younger man called Lieutenant Commander Mike Smithson, were atop the conning tower, enjoying the peaceful scene below as the mighty submarine cut through the gentle swell, heading south. Several sailors were strolling up and down the casing, stretching their legs and enjoying the exercise and fresh air after being below deck for so long.

  A report from the ACE satellite, positioned some one million miles from the planet, had been received earlier of a solar flare heading for Earth. It was a big one - one of the biggest on record, and no one knew just what the effect would be as it was heading for the south pole, the worst possible place; the north pole tended to bend the solar radiation away due to the northern magnetic field.

  A stream of high energy protons was heading for Earth, and nobody could do much about it. The induced magnetic pulse could take out power lines, so there was a big rush to connect up any lines which were out of the supply circuit, so spreading the induced load - hopefully safely.

  Brentford had never seen an Aurora, and was looking forward to what was predicted to be the biggest Aurora Australis ever witnessed by mankind, despite the possible dangers.

  The sun was just about to dip below the horizon when a message came through on the intercom that the proton stream was due to hit Earth any time soon. As darkness fell, the first flickers of colour lit up the sky. Filigrees of blue and green streamers slowly danced across the sky, growing in intensity as some of the crew of the Tristan watched enthralled at one of Nature's most amazing displays.

  The colours deepened, with flickers of red joining the green and blue fingers of fire, so bright that they outshone the stars above; and then things changed.

  “Look sir,” Smithson said, “there are flashes of blue now - that means the charged particles are cutting through the atmosphere, and that only occurs at sixty miles or so.”

  “You seem to know an awful lot about it,” Brentford said, somewhat surprised.

  “I've studied it quite a bit, seen several Auroras, but I've never seen blue streamers. There's a tremendous amount of energy up there - about twenty million amperes at fifty thousand volts is the estimate. The colours are due to molecules of our atmosphere losing or gaining electrons as the energy stream hits them.”

  “What happens if this energy were to hit the Earth's surface?” Brentford asked.

  “If it does, the magnetic pulse will induce a flow of electricity into any conductor it contacts, causing power lines to blow and starting fires - but this is very rare - I've never seen it.”

  “I hope we don't,” Brentford replied. “But we'd better keep a sharp lookout for anything unexpected.”

  The submarine cruised on in the ever brightening lights of the Aurora, but now the swell of the ocean had increased considerably, and flecks of white foam appeared on the top of breaking waves. A flash of blue white lightning ripped into the sea a few miles ahead of the submarine - and both men jumped as the sound wave hit them. Brentford switched on the intercom.

  “All personal on the casing, get below - close the Forward Hatch - standby to dive.”

  A filigree of fine sparks flitted from wave-top to wave-top with a faint crackling sound, while up ahead several more lightning strikes tore into the now foaming sea.

  “I don't like the look of that.” said the somewhat nervous Smithson. “Do you think we should go below?”

  “Yes, let's do that,” replied Brentford. “And I think we'd better take her down, that's an awful lot of conductive material we're sitting in, and I don't fancy getting fried alive.”

  With all hatches firmly shut, the command to dive was given, the submarine levelling out at a depth of one hundred metres.

  Several minutes later, the submarine shuddered, as if it had struck something, and the lights went out along with all the instrumentation. One by one the emergency lights reluctantly came on, accompanied by a sigh of relief from all those on board.

  “Main trips have gone down, sir,” the Engineering Officer of the Watch said, reporting from the Manoeuvring Room. “Permission to reset main power breakers, sir?”

  “Yes, go ahead,” Brentford replied, “but one by one - there may be a short circuit somewhere. Then check all systems.”

  The lights came on, section by section, followed by the sonar systems and under water TV viewing screens, and the other instruments necessary for the submarine to operate.

  “Periscope depth,” Brentford ordered, and the submarine slowly rose towards the surface.

  The sea was calm with a just discernible flat oily swell. The Aurora had disappeared, leaving the velvet black of the night sky and a few twinkling stars - except they were somehow different – one had a definite green colour.

  CHAPTER 2

  BRENTFORD WONDERED IF he should tell the rest of the crew, and then decided to go topside first to confirm his worst fears. Calling Smithson to join him, they both went up the conning tower and out into the open air to see if they could figure out just what had happened.

  “Well, the stars do look different,” said Brentford, “and as for that green one, I've never seen anything like that before.”

  “And look at the moon, it's almost on the horizon and very small - and travelling far too fast - and, good God! - there's another one, over there,” he said, pointing to the opposite side of the sky. “Where the hell are we?”

  “Good question, and I wish I knew,” Brentford replied in a low voice. “I rather think the impossible has happened - we're on another world. I know it sounds crazy, but look at the facts; different star field, two small moons, the Aurora disappeared within minutes, and the sea is as flat as a dish. I can't think of any other explanation, can you?”

  “Put like that, I'd have to agree. It's just possible that the energy from the solar flare somehow warped space and dumped us here - something to do with quantum physics I would think; thank goodness it wasn't in space itself, at least we're set up for watery conditions - so to speak. I reckon there must have been an almighty pulse of energy - and it just happened to hit us.”

  “And now we're in the soft brown stuff, and we have no paper.” Brentford said.

  Smithson didn't know whether to laugh or remain serious - so he kept a straight face, although in the darkness the Commanding Officer wouldn't have known.

  “Good God, there's a third moon just showing on the horizon!”

  “Well, we'd better break the news to the rest of the crew,” Brentford said with resignation. “I hope to God they can tak
e it - better be on standby to handle anyone who flips his lid - and there might be a few.”

  They returned to the main control room, where Brentford picked up the hand microphone.

  “Now hear this - this is the Commanding Officer speaking. Remain calm while I try to explain what has happened to us. We have been hit by a massive pulse of energy from the sun, and as far as we can tell, have somehow been transported to another planet. I know this sounds preposterous, but it's a fact. We have been up top, and we now have a different star system, three small moons in close orbit and travelling very fast, and a flat, and I mean really flat, sea. It's night time now, and pitch dark, but when it gets light, those who want to can go up on the casing in small groups, to see for yourselves. If anyone needs to see me, contact the XO who will arrange it. You will be kept posted of any other information we can obtain - that is all for now.” The microphone clicked off, and there was complete silence, except for the soft murmur of the ventilation fans.

  Slowly, very slowly, the crew began talking among themselves. Various ideas were put forward ranging from, “the old man had raided the rum store”, “the radiation had got to him”, “he was missing his mum”, to the other extreme, “I didn't sign up for this”, and “let's see what we have up top before we lock him in his cabin”.

  Three crew members requested permission to see the Commanding Officer, and were duly shown in. A gentle explanation of the situation coupled with a generous portion of sedative laced rum put them into a more stable frame of mind, and they returned to their duties - covertly overseen by an officer.

  The submarine was now stationary on the surface, there being no point in proceeding any further until a plan of action could be formulated. Brentford moved among his crew, reassuring those he deemed to need it, and chatting cheerfully in general while he desperately thought out what to do next.

  “Contact ahead, sir, large unidentified object moving slowly towards us.” Brentford hurried over to the radar screen and said, “Port thirty degrees - half power.”

  A few minutes later the operator called out again, his voice an octave higher.

  “It's changed course, and is heading for an intersection with us.”

  Brentford studied the outside camera screens. It was still too dark to see anything on the surface, although there was a glimmer of light on the horizon, and the infra red camera only showed a very faint blob with no details.

  “Stop. Dive to one hundred metres and hold position,” Brentford called out.

  The submarine hovered motionless in the alien waters, while the blob on the surface slowly moved to a position directly above them, and then stopped.

  “Up to fifty metres and hold position.” Brentford swung the outside cameras to the vertical, and gazed intently at the screens. Slowly, a dark shape could be seen forming above them on the surface. Brentford slowed the ascent and then called “Hold position”. Above the submarine, a mass of rope-like tendrils waved about in the water, some of the thicker ones seemed to be extending down towards the submarine, and then, having reached the limit to which they could stretch, stopped.

  “What the hell's that?” asked Smithson quietly.

  “If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a giant jellyfish,” replied Brentford. “But I think it's something a little more sophisticated somehow. Come up a few metres, and hold.”

  One of the tendrils was only a few metres above the conning tower, and was desperately trying to reach it. The screen clearly showed a rope-like structure covered in cup shaped suckers, the edges of which pulsated as if they were trying to get hold of something.

  “Looks like it's organic,” said Brentford, looking from screen to screen. “Its movement would certainly indicate that, and of very low density according to the returning sonar pulses. I think we can rule out a constructed entity, so we have encountered our first taste of alien life here.”

  Most of the crew who were not otherwise engaged, crowded around the viewing screens, with various expressions of amazement on their faces. One rating suggested they launch a ship to ship missile at the tenuous mass above them.

  “There's no point in doing that,” Brentford retorted, “it's doing us no harm, and is just going about its natural business of looking for food, I would suspect.”

  Just then, one of the tentacles made a herculean effort, and touched the top of the conning tower. It immediately retracted, as if stung by something, and a cloud of blackness descended from the main body above to engulf the top of the submarine, blotting out the camera vision.

  “Half power for five hundred metres,” Brentford ordered, “and then surface.”

  The submarine went ahead, stopped, and surfaced. The cameras showed they were a safe distance from the huge sea creature. Brentford and Smithson headed for the conning tower, and saw their first sight of the mighty creature in the flesh.

  “I thought our whales were big, but that thing is colossal.”

  “If it weren”t for that five metre hump in the middle,’ said Brentford, “you'd bump into it before you saw it - it”s the same colour as the water.’

  “I would suspect there is very little actual organic mass there, a bit like our jellyfish, they are mainly water - with a thin cellular structure holding the whole thing together.” Smithson said.

  “I don't think it can do us any harm, so let's leave it in peace,” said Brentford, and they returned to the main control room, telling the crew what they had seen.

  “As there's nothing to be seen on the surface, we'll travel at one hundred metres depth - there may be some other life forms down there for us to see - everyone keep a sharp lookout.” And with that, Brentford retired to his cabin.

  The submarine cruised on for several kilometres, and then came the call.

  “Object sighted ahead.”

  Brentford hurried to the control room to see an excited crew gathered around one of the sonar screens. Sure enough, something was showing up as a vertical bar ahead of the submarine, but they couldn't see what it was.

  “Ahead half power,” said Brentford, “stop when we have camera view.”

  At last the cameras picked up a clear picture of a rope-like object ahead; it seemed to go from top to bottom of the screens, disappearing into the depths below. It was difficult to gauge its exact size, but the best estimate they could come up with was about the thickness of a man's body - but it wasn't a rope, as there were no signs of the usual twisted pattern.

  “Right,” said Brentford, “back off fifty metres, and follow it down. Switch on the Depth Sounder.”

  Slowly the submarine sank, keeping the rope-like strand in view all the time, until a voice called out “One hundred meters to base.” Tilting the cameras downwards they could see an oval rock-like mound, with the strand somehow attached to its centre. It wasn't until the submarine backed off a little more that they realised just how big the rock was. The first estimate was one and a half times the submarine's length in diameter, and a good fifty to sixty metres high. Slowly the submarine was edged forward to get a clearer view of the rock's detail, and that's when they got their next surprise.

  “The bloody thing's moving,” called out one of the screen operators, disbelief in his voice. “Only very slowly, but it's definitely moving.”

  The submarine was moved around so that they could get a good view of its very slow progress forward. Although it appeared to be set firmly on the ocean bed, the front edge was rippling up and down in a series of waves, pulling in pieces of what looked like rock and small stones, along with any slow moving sea creatures which couldn't move out of the way in time. Behind the moving rock, the sea bed was smooth, leaving a flat ribbon-like trail the width of itself, disappearing off into the far distance.

  And then they noticed 'the rock' wasn't quite what it seemed to be. On closer inspection, the surface was covered in a multitude of crawling creatures of various sizes and shapes - some with legs, some worm like, and some like little domes which moved around with small jerky motions.

>   The huge rope-like thing they had been following down was attached to the top of the mound by a series of root-like tendrils, which spread out over several metres, and had somehow burrowed into the mound's surface to get a strong grip.

  “You know, sir, I think that rock thing is a living entity,” Smithson offered, “in fact I'm sure of it. In front there are rocks, stones and some slow moving creatures, but behind there is just smooth sand; so I reckon it engulfs whatever's in front of it, crunches it up and ingests what it needs to maintain itself, spewing out the unwanted remains behind it.”

  “Can't argue with that,” replied Brentford after a while, wishing he had worked it out for himself. “And I don't think that rope thing is part of it by the way it has rooted itself in. Something up above must have attached itself to the 'rock' sometime in the past - but for what purpose I wonder? Maybe we should go up and see what's there.”

  The command was given to surface, but slowly for the last hundred metres, as they had no idea what they might encounter above them. After what seemed like forever, a warning from the sonar operator advised that a large shape had come up on his screen, and it was immediately above them. The cameras were swung upwards, and they could see that the single strand had split into many, and spread out to join the shape overhead. The submarine went into reverse until the fast approaching shape was ahead of them, and then they surfaced. The cameras gave a view which even surprised Smithson. Ahead was a floating island of tangled vegetation, about two metres high at its edge, but with several mounds rising up many metres in height a little further in.

  What surprised them all was the size of this floating mass of vegetation; it stretched for two hundred metres on either side of them, slowly heaving up and down with the ocean's swell, in the bright blue green light of the planet's sun.

  The view from the conning tower was even more awe inspiring. Using the binoculars, Brentford relayed what he saw to Smithson, the XO.

  “The edge of the mass looks like wickerwork, although it doesn't have the pattern of a woven basket, it's a mass of strands, all interwoven and locked together - looks quite solid though. Below the water line it looks like strands of dark green spaghetti hanging straight down - thousands of them, and what look like fish are swimming around in amongst them. There's something moving about on the surface too - a large beetle thing, about the size of a cat I would think - there's another one! Looks like a swarm of flies - or something, flying around one of those higher mounds. Seems safe enough to go have a look.” Smithson hesitantly agreed.