Flight of the Tristan
Page 6
Brentford was pleased how well his crew had settled down, and seemed to accept the strange situation they were all in - due credit being given to his Officers, who kept a sharp lookout for anyone showing signs of stress. There was only one other fatality, the other man who had been under sedation just walked into the sea one day before anyone could stop him. A diver was promptly sent down, but only his shoes were found.
A very thorough search of all the buildings was made to try and find some indication of what the aliens looked like, but so far there was no trace of anything which related to their appearance, the food they ate, or even their clothes. Even the dormitory block was devoid of any personal possessions - and that seemed odd, considering the speed with which they had vacated the island.
There was always a slight nagging doubt with regard to whether the aliens might return, so a sharp watch was always kept for any signs of approaching space vehicles, using the submarine's radar. So far, the only intruders were two giant jellyfish, which once they had touched the hull, rapidly retreated to safer waters.
The more religious members of the crew were not comfortable with the idea of creating life - or to be more precise, giving life to a creature which had been assembled by man. The fact that some of the humanoids found on the islands were not unlike mankind in many ways, led to many lengthy and heated discussions, none of which were resolved.
Most evenings, Smithson and his C.O. spent a little time chatting about the things which had taken place that day, or observations which made no logical sense.
“You know, sir, there's something a bit odd about the different humanoids we've seen on the islands - there were no sign of genitals, so they can't breed, I would assume.”
“Yes, I had noted that too, and they were all about the same size - no young or old. I suppose the aliens just made a bunch of them, and dumped them on an island to see what would happen - doesn't make much senses to me. They have gone to a great deal of trouble to build the complex and equip it - but to what purpose? It can't be just to play around making odd looking creatures - there's got to be something more to it than that, and I think we should try to find out what it is.”
“There is another thing,” said Smithson. “Our uniforms aren't going to last for ever, so may I suggest that everyone keeps one good set, so that they can be duplicated when needed, and that goes for anything else which can wear out.”
“Good thinking, yes, see to it please; pity we can't do the same for ourselves!”
Smithson grinned, “I don't think you'd get any volunteers for that.”
The Med (Chief Medical Officer), spent a considerable amount of time experimenting with the code plates which determined what type skin and internals went into each creature he constructed; and after a great deal of effort, managed to produce a reasonable facsimile of a cat. It consumed (duplicated) meat with great gusto, but he was unable to ‘house train’ the poor creature, so it was banned from the buildings - especially the dormitory.
It took many days of ‘skinning’ simple models to find the right plate to produce something like normal skin, but he got there in the end. The plate was put in a box with details of what it produced inscribed on the lid.
CHAPTER 5
SOMEONE CAME UP with the bright idea of refloating the alien's shuttle craft, by injecting air into it. A feasibility study was undertaken, the upshot of which resulted in the construction an extended arm which could be ‘tack welded’ onto the bow of the submarine, so allowing a flexible pipe to enter the rent in the side of the alien craft, and hopefully fill it with air. Brentford was not overly keen on the project, but realised that it would give the crew a new interest, and they might also find out a bit more about the aliens.
Two days later, and the submarine set out with a reduced crew. Fortunately, a record had been kept (automatically) of the submarine's movements, so the site was located quite easily. The fun began when they tried to insert the air tube into the rent in the side of the alien craft, as it was too deep for divers to guide it in; this meant a lot of careful manoeuvring of the submarine, guided by the external cameras. With the air pipe inserted into the craft at last, the process of dispelling the water and replacing it with air began. The cameras showed the water being forced out, along with odd bits of detritus and several bones, which was disappointing, as they had hoped to retrieve a complete skeleton of an alien.
At last the craft began to rise - the air tube was withdrawn, and the pair of vessels rose to the surface in tandem.
The shuttle was lot bigger than it appeared on the ocean bottom, and was only just buoyant. One of the crew with a portable welder was despatched in great haste to attach a steel hawser to the craft before it sank again, but the welder refused to work on the alien metal. In the end, they managed to loop the hawser around one of the fins, and the very slow and careful tow back to their new home port began.
Upon entering the bay, the submarine got as close to the beach as they thought safe, unhitched the hawser, and slowly nudged the alien craft towards the beach, but they were still a few hundred metres short when the submarine's depth sensor sounded an alarm. Using the inflatable to push at full power was the only option left, but this would take a considerable time because of the huge mass of the alien craft. After a couple of hours, and a few refills of the inflatable's fuel tank, the shuttle finally grounded on the beach, as the sun dipped below the horizon.
They would have to wait until daylight before they could explore the shuttle safely, much to the disappointment of most of the crew. Breakfast was consumed with indecent haste next day, and then the exploration party set off for the beach. The shuttle was exactly as they had left it the night before, and a search for the entry hatch began. They found it right on the water line, but there was no visible means of opening it. The usual method of opening the alien doors didn't work, and although they could see the hatch, they couldn't open it.
The only way in was via the rent in its side, but this was jagged and barely large enough to squeeze through. It took many hours and considerable bad language before they had bent the jagged edges back enough for a safe entry.
A portable generator, extension leads and a powerful floodlight were brought over from the submarine, together with a pump to extract the remaining water from the shuttle.
When the pump had done its work, Smithson, with a microphone and transmitter attached, crawled in through the rent with a small video camera and lamp, dragging the power cable in behind him. Outside everyone stood around expectantly, waiting for the running commentary from Smithson.
“I'm standing in what looks like the main passenger compartment - there are about forty seating positions with restraining straps. There's a whole pile of bones on the floor, and a few scraps of fabric - Oh, and some skulls! There's a big chunk of what looks like lava too. It's a bit smelly and slippery in here. I'm now going down to the far end of the hull - can't help feeling sorry for the poor sods - it must have been an unpleasant ending. There's a door here at the end, I'll try and open it. Looks like an emergency food and drink supply - a large container with - I think it's a tap, and a collection of metal boxes - usual strange writing on them.”
“I'm now going back to the front of the vehicle (muffled curse) these bloody bones are slippery! There's another door, and it's open. Two seats, a viewing screen and what looks like the controls. The seats are empty, but there are some bones and two skulls on the floor. I'm coming back out now.”
Smithson emerged from the shuttle looking none too well, and sat down on the fin of the vehicle, breathing deeply.
“You OK?” asked Brentford, looking worried. “You look as if you've seen a ghost.”
“Yes, I'm fine sir, thanks. Must say, it was a strange feeling in there - I don't believe in ghosts, but there was something hanging around - I could feel it.”
“OK, let's all take a break,” said Brentford. “we'll go over the video record and see if you missed anything.”
Later that day, Brentford ca
lled for his XO., explaining an idea he had had.
“You remember the front compartment? You had to step down into it, so therefore I would think the bones in there belong to the pilots only. If we collect them, we should be able to get an idea of what the aliens looked like - skeleton-wise, that is - what do you think?”
“Good idea, I'll get a volunteer to collect them up,” Smithson replied, glad to give someone else the doubtful honour of doing so.
There was no shortage of volunteers for the bone collection - everyone wanted to see the inside of the alien shuttle. When the volunteer came out with the bag of bones, he too said he experienced a ‘presence’, and felt very uncomfortable about it.
The bones were washed, sterilised and evenly divided into two equal piles; one pile was bagged up for possible future use, while the Med set about laying the other out like a flattened skeleton. A few hours later he called for his CO.
“They're not too different to us,” he said. “But there are slight differences. Each hand has four fingers, but with two thumbs, one each side of the fingers. The vertebrae are a lot thicker and bigger than ours, which would point to a planet of greater gravity, and they have two more vertebrae than us. The head, you will notice is larger, and with a bulging forehead - the brain cavity being larger than ours. Apart from that, they are basically similar to us, but a little taller.”
Brentford sent for Smithson, and when he arrived, showed him the skeleton layout.
“I've got an idea about this, XO, do you think you two could assemble this skeleton? - You will probably have to use some sort of glue, as these bones don't join up like the manufactured ones do. If you can assemble it, using that special marker pen, you could put the muscle and tendon points on the bones, and then we could put some flesh on the whole thing. I'll get Maintenance to measure up the eye sockets, and make up a couple of plastic eyes to add to the realism.”
The assembly took a little longer than they had anticipated, and the marking of connections for the tendons caused more arguments, but they got there in the end, just as Brentford turned up.
“You've made a fine job of that,” he said, approvingly. “Now let's get some muscle on it.”
The skeleton was carefully lifted into the muscle adding device, the hood lowered, and the knob pushed. When the vapour cleared, they were all in for a shock - the creature before them looked powerful and menacing - and hideous in its red brown coating of muscle.
“My God,” said Smithson, “I wouldn't like to meet one of those in daylight, let alone on a dark night. I don't think we should do the next stage, putting the internals in, it might just come to life.”
“I've no intention of going through that stage,” said Brentford, patiently. “I think the final machine detects if brain tissue is present, and then gives it life somehow - if we miss out the next stage, we can then skin it - but put the eyes in first. Have you managed to find a data plate with the right kind of skin on it?”
“Yes, sir, but it's slightly darker than ours.”
The body was now too heavy for the three of them to lift, so reinforcements were called in to help. The look on the men's faces was something to behold when they saw the raw muscles of the reconstructed alien.
The body was carefully positioned in the final machine, the hood closed, and the vapours enveloped the hideous figure. They thought something had gone wrong, as it took much longer than normal for the container to clear, and when it did, there was a gasp from all present.
“Well, that looks much better,” said Brentford, cheerily. “Almost like one of us - on a bad day!” There was the distinct sound of held breath being exhaled from all present.
“I'll get Maintenance to knock up a frame to hold it upright,” said Smithson. “I doubt it'll stand on its own feet.”
There had been some discussion as to why the ‘master’ models didn't decay in the storage facility - the conclusion being that something was subtracted or added to the models during one of the processes - as no other explanation made any sense.
Once everyone had seen the reconstructed alien, things settled down to a more normal routine - not that anything was really normal.
CHAPTER 6
A FEW DAYS later, and the volcano cleared its throat a couple of times, and then got down to some serious volcanism. They could see the lava streams slowly rolling down the sides of the cone, and the order was given to collect up all belongings and board the submarine. They only just made it in time; the volcano erupted at full throttle as the submarine backed out of the cove and into deep water.
“I think we'll move out a few kilometres and stay submerged at two hundred metres for a while,” Brentford said to his XO, and then gave the orders to do so. They stayed submerged for two days, and then surfaced. The volcano could be seen in the distance, belching fire and smoke, and with an enormous ash cloud hanging over it; and with no sign of abatement.
“The island must be covered in lava and ash by now,” said Brentford to his XO, “so there's no point in waiting a while and going back - we may as well just cruise on.”
“May I make a suggestion, sir?” asked Smithson. His CO. nodded.
“I can't really explain this, but I think we should go back to the point where we arrived on the world - it's just a feeling I have, but a strong one.”
“OK, we have nothing better to do at the moment,” Brentford replied. “so we may as well - it will put the crew at ease knowing we are doing something positive - give the orders, XO.”
As their travels had been automatically recorded, it was easy to return to the chosen location, and they had barely done so when there was a violent shudder, and all the lights went out, followed by the instruments. After a long pause, the emergency lights came on, and the Chief Engineer reset the power trips, which had gone down.
Brentford called for a damage report, but everything seemed normal.
“Up to periscope depth,” he ordered.
“God - I don't believe this,” he said quietly to Smithson, who was standing beside him. “The sea's got waves on it, and the stars look normal - we'll surface and take a look outside before we say anything to the crew.”
Up on the conning tower, the pair surveyed the scene before them. The waves were normal, the star field was recognisable as seen from Earth - and there was no sign of the aurora.
“OK, XO, explain that,” said Brentford, trying not to sound sarcastic. Smithson was silent for a while, desperately trying to get his thoughts together.
“I have a little knowledge of quantum theory, but not enough to explain it fully. What I think happened is that huge pulse from the sun distorted space, and probably time as well, and we happened to be at the node, so we got shifted to that other planet. When the pulse ended, things were out of balance, and so we were pulled back to where we should be, as though we were on a piece of celestial elastic. That's about the best I can do.”
“Sounds plausible - well it must be, we're back on Earth, thank God,” said Brentford, with a sigh. “Let's see if we can get into radio contact with base.”
The radio operator reported that the air waves were almost silent - apart from some static, but he had contacted an amateur radio enthusiast, who told him his radio set was in an old shipping container, and he had taken the aerial down just before the solar blast - the container had protected his equipment. Brentford went down to the radio room to see what else he could glean from the radio ham.
It transpired that the solar storm had taken out most power lines, along with all broadcasting units attached to aerials. The world's data satellites had fared little better, along with telephone lines. As the storm had only abated a short while ago, little had been done to restore normal communications - but repairs were underway.
“How come we were away for so long,” asked Brentford. “But it was only a short while ago that the storm ended here on Earth?”
“As I said, time itself must have been distorted as well,” Smithson replied.
“I'd better
tell the crew,” said Brentford. “At least it'll be a pleasant shock.”
He picked up the hand microphone, and made his announcement.
“Now hear this - this is your Commanding Officer, as improbable as it sounds, we are back on Earth - welcome home!”
Unknown to them at the time, some of the alien's strange island creating ‘wicker-work’ type plants had got caught up on one of the submarine's fins, and finding the waters of Earth to its liking, began to grow at an explosive rate...
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