by Ken O'Steen
Chapter 6: Memories
The Onyx came to a halt in space, short range scanners mapping the surrounding area. And there it was, within three light years of min and Astro’s prediction.
The dark form of the ship we nicknamed The Wilhelm floated helplessly through space, rolling and drifting in the cold vacuum. Behind me the holo-table was building a 3-D map as it scanned the ship level by level.
I joined Anderson and the others as we searched for an entry point. Anderson clapped me hard on the back with a grin plastered across his face. I too was excited but the grim look on Angela’s face kept me sober.
“What about here?” Cal pointed to the punctured side.
“Maybe. There could be too much debris, power cables still active. Better to find a maintenance hatch or something similar. We’ll cut through it if we have to,” Anderson rotated the image, “Here. This will drop you center top. I’ll send two of my men with you with a metal grinder and cutter. Should get you through.”
We sat on benches in the airlock, strapped down as the red light began to flash. As the door to space opened the atmosphere rushed out and we were jostled against each other.
The light changed to green and one by one we unbuckled and kicked off into space. The jets on our back slowly pushed us towards the looming shape of The Wilhem. All around us was nothing but empty space.
Sparks flew as Johnson cut the hinges off the access door. Once inside we drifted through the large corridors, pushing off the walls to maneuver ourselves. We encountered several emergency doors, all closed to protect one section of the ship from the other. They had manual overrides but the steel was thick and it took several minutes to haul each door open wide enough to slip through in our space suits.
Without EMF displays we slowly followed the trickling of phantom power to the generator room. There was still energy running to the encased anti-matter, keeping it safe.
“Emergency measures are in place for energy conservation.” I was already overriding the control measures and sending power to the rest of the ship. The false gravity returned, sending us all to the ground.
The doors slid open easily now as we made our way across the ship to the bridge and up the elevator. The halls dark and empty as red emergency strips grimly lit our way to the bridge. The bridge was empty as well; large cooped seats, work stations and a dark monitor wall greeted us.
“Where are they? The aliens?” Cutter’s voice crackled in my ear.
“Escape pods?” Cal shrugged but I turned on a workstation and began investigating.
“They had a blown fuel line and contaminated atmosphere. Escape pods are all in their docks. Where could they go if they did escape? There’s no planets nearby, they’re too far from Kepler. They were probably hoping one of the other ships would come.” I exited the log and looked to the others.
“So they’re still here, somewhere.” Cutter immediately accessed another workstation to begin searching.
“All right. Let’s get back on track. We’re here to study the engines so where’s the engine room?” Johnson’s voice was gruff, commanding and slightly annoyed. He was a worse replacement than Nichols who was left behind in the biodome. Short tempered and stern with no patience of us clones.
Cutter interjected, “Surely the opportunity to study the internal makings of these aliens should be added to our list of priorities.”
“Engine room first Cutter. We can run it past Captain Anderson when we return. Let’s go.” Cutter’s eyes narrowed as she stepped away from the workstation but she kept silent, “Good. Let’s split into four groups and try to find a safe route to the engines.”
I walked behind Angela as Cutter led the way. Twice we reached compartments that were full of floating debris, the false gravity generators malfunctioning. Wires, some live and some dead, dangled precariously. Both times we were forced another way. Deeper into the bowels of the ship we went, slowly making our way to the stern.
The silence the ship had first offered was now interrupted by creaks and groans, by snaps and crackles of electricity and the vibrating hum of fans as they attempted to circle the non-existent atmosphere throughout the ship.
“What happened here?” Cutter paused in the entry way of a large chamber, obliterated and open to space. Twisted metal greeted us, the scorch marks of an explosion everywhere.
“This was not caused by a fuel leak. Something else happened here.” I answered as Angela turned us back, shutting the doors behind us.
The grey corridor was empty and we pulled ourselves along quickly, “These rooms are still intact. I don’t care what Johnson said, I want a look at these aliens.”
We were central again but near the very bottom levels as we made our way to the stern. Cutter began pausing and opening every door, searching for where the aliens had taken refuge. She stopped before an open door, staring into it. I kicked my way over to her side. Our eyes wide and mouths frozen.
The room was full of floating cots and crates and drifting bodies. Long thin things with blue skin, twice our height and dressed in uniforms twisted in the air. As one floated in front of us it spun slowly and its face came into view. My mind began to race.
I recognized him.
