Starship Alchemon

by Christopher Hinz

  She short-circuited the reek’s latest assault by dropping to the floor for a series of strenuous pushups. The workout did the job; the reek settled back into its subliminal crypt. But as she rose, another emotion surfaced. Anger.

  Her existence was unfair. The universe seemed to conspire against her.

  “Why are you here?” she demanded, smacking her palms against the glass. She was aware the question referred not only to the creature but also to her own presence on the Alchemon.

  “That remains unknown,” a voice answered.

  Startled, LeaMarsa spun to see Jonomy’s face peering from a monitor.

  “I am sorry,” the lytic said. “I did not intend to alarm you.”

  “It’s OK.”

  He was plugged into the umbilical, communicating from the bridge.

  “What are you doing in the containment lab?” he asked. “I thought you would be enjoying yourself with the others at the Homebound.”

  “I got tired of it. I wanted to be alone.” She turned back to the containment wall. Bouncy Blue had elevated again, this time floating a half-meter above the floor.

  “Why does it do that?” she wondered.

  “The most likely theory is that it, or perhaps the fetal organism within, is practicing a long-dormant skill. Like a human whose muscles have withered from inactivity, it is trying to get back in shape.”

  In shape for what? she wondered.

  “A more interesting question concerns its morphology. How and why such an organism exists in the first place.”

  “Any ideas?”

  “None that come close to aligning with current theories. There are no biological correlates. This creature is truly a unique find.”

  “What do you think it was doing on the planet?”

  “No single explanation tracks high enough on a probability matrix to be considered credible.”

  “You must have some idea, a best guess.”

  “In a realm of such low probabilities, I prefer not to speculate.”

  Jonomy didn’t think or talk like the others. He also seemed to be the only person aboard the Alchemon who didn’t want something from her, who wasn’t trying to manipulate her in some subtle or not-so-subtle way. Conversing with him was oddly comforting.

  “Are you a hundred percent certain it can’t escape the containment?” she asked.

  “Such a level of certainty does not exist. However, containments are designed with a high safety margin.”

  “I was reading up on the ship’s control network. The containment is only a Level Two system.”

  “Level Two systems are quite powerful.”

  “Not as powerful as those of Level One.” And not as powerful as the Sentinel.

  “Correct. But from a statistical basis, there is little to be concerned about.” Jonomy paused. “Have you given further consideration to Doctor Waskov’s research agenda, specifically item one-thirty-three?”

  “Not really.” That was a lie. She’d indeed thought about it and still had no intention of entering the containment with that thing in there. But she was curious as to what Jonomy thought of the idea.

  “Would you do it? If it were your choice, would you go into the containment?”

  “The question is unanswerable. I am not you.”

  “But if you were?”

  “But I am not.”

  She gave up trying to pry a response from him, tried another question.

  “This mission, do you think it’s going to be a success?”

  “In what terms are you defying success?”

  “Getting back to Earth.”

  She assumed Jonomy would answer in calculated percentages, with the odds highly in favor of their safe return to the solar system. But he surprised her.

  “There are facets of existence that remain impervious to comprehension, and thus defy all means of calculation.”

  Maybe he senses what I sense, that the Alchemon is a doomed vessel.

  CHAPTER 10

  Remnants of the Homebound were visible throughout the main social room. Faye’s natal suit lay crumpled along the wall where she and Donner had stripped to enter the freelane. Non-recyclable plates and utensils littered the floor. A beverage had been spilled or thrown onto a frame displaying a portrait of Charles Darwin, and the incursion was preventing the frame from evolving to its next image.

  Janitorial pups would arrive soon to clean up the mess. The robots were waiting for Ericho to exercise a captain’s prerogative and officially declare the Homebound over.

  Only June, Faye and Donner remained in the room. Faye, in her underwear, was wandering aimlessly, rubbing her forehead as if nursing a hangover. Donner, still naked, was curled up in a fetal position near a dispenser, sound asleep.

  Time to get back to reality, Ericho thought, vaguely troubled by the idea. It meant again dealing with the lieutenant and Hardy Waskov, not to mention whatever negative impacts LeaMarsa and the organism in the containment might be having on them.

  The return trip was always the dullest part of a voyage. Outward bound, anticipation produced a certain edge, an excitement that served to keep him energized even during the most routine duties. Going home offered no such relief, not until that flurry of activity five months from now when the Alchemon reached the Lalande 21185 terminus of the Quiets.

  The ship would enter a hundred-cubic-kilometer void surrounded by warning beacons. The vessel’s spatiotemporal coagulators would be phased into the odd energy patterns present within the Quiets and the Alchemon would emerge instantaneously at the solar system terminus. From there, the nucleonic engines would fire up again and the ship would embark on its final four-month journey to Earth. Shortly thereafter, Ericho would hire out on another Pannis vessel and return to the stars.

  His parents and siblings, all contentedly Earthbound, wondered when he’d outgrow his roving existence. Extended lifespans made it possible for citizens to enjoy multiple careers, and mega psychologists believed that people should experience a minimum of three professions in their lives to maximize emotional health. His family, all high achievers, had done that and more, and boasted accomplished resumes in multiple fields.

  But Ericho had never wanted to do anything beyond voyaging on starships. He had no desire for additional careers, no desire to compete for accolades. He realized he was ensnared in a repetitive life pattern. Yet it was a pattern he had no desire to outgrow.

  You can’t stay a grunt forever, you need an adult job, his older brother would tell him, an opening volley in what inevitably would grow into a fierce debate.

  But Ericho would argue that it’s what he loved to do, even while a faint voice in his head suggested that his brother wasn’t completely off the mark. A bridge officer certainly transcended being a grunt. He wasn’t trapped in the ranks of the needful majority, doing some lowly job like scrubbing miasma tanks in a nucleonic fuel plant. Modest family income had enabled him to avoid such a fate. Still, with lytics and AIs essentially running starships, few instances of pivotal decision-making were required of him.

  A Helioteer phrase sprang to mind: “go with the flow.” It could well describe his attitude toward being a captain. And that was the core of his brother’s argument, that Ericho was comfortable in circumstances that didn’t require him to confront real challenges, and thus take the next step in personal growth.

  “You look far away,” June said, coming up behind him and rubbing his shoulders.

  “Just reviewing the state of my irresponsible existence.”

  “Dwelling on your brother again, I see. Did I ever tell you that I think he can be a bit of a jerk?”

  “Once or twice.”

  She broke into a smile. He loved the way she smiled at him, how it could consign his troubles to a recycle bin.

  “Just feeling a bit philosophical,” he offered. “What’d you think of the Homebound?”

  “A reasonable success.” She gazed at Donner’s sleeping figure. “Most of us had an opportunity to cut loose or relax
in our own unique ways.”

  “Most but not all.”

  June nodded. “I saw you talking to Alexei. Nothing on the workout-partner front between him and LeaMarsa, I gather.”

  “She’s a challenge. Any other ideas?”

  “I’ve been doing further study. There’s some preliminary research that certain forms of relaxation can also lessen a psionic’s impact.”

  “Such as?”

  “A nutriment bath.”

  “Worth a shot. So, get her into NUB.”

  “Believe me, I’ve been trying. So far she’s resisted.” June paused. “I’ll push the issue, tell her it’s a medical recommendation.”

  Ericho related LeaMarsa’s warning that they probably wouldn’t make it back to Earth. He forced a grin as he said it, hoping June would be amused.

  The crewdoc’s voice fell to a whisper. “Did LeaMarsa say why she believes that?”

  “No.” He recalled another aspect of their conversation. “Mitochondrials and superluminals. I read an article, but I don’t remember the details. There’s some kind of correlation, right?”

  “Now there’s a question out of the proverbial left field.”

  Ericho nodded. “It relates to something I said to LeaMarsa and the way she reacted. I definitely touched a nerve.”

  “Well, first of all, superluminals, especially the type found in humans, aren’t easy to understand. We know they exist and we can reach certain mathematical conclusions about them, such as that their effects intensify in direct proportion to physical distance. But when you really try to examine them in detail, the quantum observer effect and Heisenberg uncertainty kicks in. Basically, the deeper you study superluminals, the less sense they seem to make.”

  “And mitochondrials? Power plants of the cells, if I remember my bio courses.”

  “They supply the chemical energy,” June said. “They have other functions as well, such as signaling and cell growth. Their connection with superluminals comes from a body of research pointing to mitochondrials as the primary genetic carriers of superluminal abilities.”

  Her explanation triggered another fact from the article. “Psionic abilities can be passed on from parent to child, right? And they tend to run in families.”

  “That’s the current thinking.”

  “LeaMarsa said her parents were bioresearchers specializing in mitochondrial DNA. What do you know about that?”

  June hesitated. Ericho had a hunch she was faced with a medical ethics conundrum.

  “You can’t tell me without violating confidentiality,” he concluded.

  “I’ve learned some things about LeaMarsa through standard GEL and MED files. Those I can talk about. But other things were revealed during private sessions.”

  “Got it. Still, give me what you can. In fact, I’d like a comprehensive med file on LeaMarsa as soon as possible. Put in anything and everything you can dig up on her history.”

  “Care to tell me why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  June’s frown implied that Ericho was being evasive.

  “Honestly, I don’t. I just have this feeling it’s important.” Ericho couldn’t analyze his request any better than that.

  He activated his mike. “Jonomy?”

  “Yes, captain.”

  “I’m declaring the Homebound over. Normal duty shifts from here on out.”

  “I’ll issue notifications.”

  Ericho sensed movement behind him, turned. Tomer Donner approached in a swerving gait, on the edge of drunkenness. The lieutenant had restored his minimal attire, the silver jodhpurs and icicle earring.

  “Homebound’s over,” Ericho said, trying to waylay Donner with rational thought before the man could launch into fresh ramblings. He should have realized the effort was futile.

  “I am the offspring of excitation, the skulking metaphor extracted from synergy and made real.”

  Donner teetered. Ericho grabbed his shoulder to steady him.

  “Why don’t I walk you to your cabin. You look like you could use a bed.”

  “Bravo, captain. You don’t insult directly by questioning my sanity but instead utilize a diversionary tactic. Still, I believe you’re right. It’s time for me to leave this place for a more lasting arena of slumber.”

  Ericho guided Donner through the forward airseal and into downdeck’s main transverse corridor. The lieutenant walked slowly, lost in thought. Ericho remained silent, not wanting to provide fuel for fresh effluence.

  They crossed through a central airseal that divided port and starboard halves of the ship. As the door whisked shut behind them, Donner raised his gaze to the lume-encrusted ceiling.

  “Something wrong?” Ericho asked.

  “An infinitely speculative question.”

  A faint shiver seemed to pass through the lieutenant, followed by a bout of nervous laughter.

  “Ah, captain. You think you are in control, but you are not. Other forces are at work, disjunctive forces that will soon rip us asunder. Be forewarned. There are consequences for not recognizing the truth.”

  “Which is?”

  “That you cannot command that which cannot be commanded.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Donner walked on, at an agreeably faster pace. Almost there, Ericho thought, concentrating on the elevator up ahead. A quick ascent to the crew cabins and the man would be out of his hair, at least for a time.

  They entered the elevator. The door closed. Before the compartment could move, Donner slammed the emergency stop button.

  What now? Ericho wondered.

  The lieutenant backed into a corner and fell into a crouch, arms dangling loosely at his sides, fingers bent inward at the first joint. There was no mistaking a fighting posture.

  Ericho assumed a matching stance, not about to take the chance that this was more playacting. He kept his tone light, hoping to steer the lieutenant back to reality.

  “You’re probably as fatigued as I am. It’ll be good to get some real sleep, huh?”

  “I wish things could be different.” Donner’s words echoed heartfelt emotion. “Please know this isn’t my fault.”

  “I’m sure you’re just tired.”

  “I’m not completely without blame. I did elect to come on this voyage, allowed things to get so out of control.”

  Ericho suspected he was referring to LeaMarsa’s presence. He wanted to ask why Donner hadn’t backed out of the mission, knowing she could have a negative impact on him. But at that moment, he attacked.

  Ericho jerked his head back. Donner’s left hand swept past his neck, a vicious karate swipe.

  Purgefire!

  Donner swung his right foot upward, aiming for Ericho’s crotch. The blow went wide. Ericho grabbed for the arcing foot but missed.

  The lieutenant pivoted, rammed his bare heel into Ericho’s guts.

  Doubling over in pain, he backpedaled toward the opposite corner. Donner charged again. Ericho deflected another wild kick with his elbow and went on the offensive, swung a haymaker toward the lieutenant’s face.

  For a man who looked drunk, Donner moved with surprising speed. He sidestepped the fist and unleashed a brutal left jab into Ericho’s windpipe. Gasping, Ericho’s hands instinctively shot up to protect his neck from further hits. But that opened up his midsection.

  Donner’s heel caught him full force. Ericho flew backward, slammed the wall. Stunned, he collapsed to his knees.

  The lieutenant unleashed a mad wail of triumph. Unpinning the icicle earring, he crushed it beneath his heel. For a fragile moment, the craziness seemed to leave his face.

  “The Quad awakens,” he said, looking infinitely sad.

  Donner opened the elevator and dashed back into the downdeck corridor. The door slid shut, leaving Ericho on his knees fighting a wave of dizziness.

  He struggled to his feet, tabbed his mike. “Jonomy, Donner’s out of control. He just attacked me.”

  “Already tracking him, captain. I belie
ve he is heading for the containment.”

  “Seal the door.”

  “Done. However, as a bridge officer he possesses the override code for all internal seals.”

  Ericho cursed under his breath. The door had innumerable security features to prevent anything from escaping the containment and its lab. But entry into the lab wasn’t considered such a major issue. Only modest safeguards were in place.

  He staggered out of the elevator. His neck and midsection were sore, as was his upper back where he’d slammed the wall. Fortunately, it didn’t feel like anything was broken.

  “Captain, the airseal into the containment area has been overridden. Lieutenant Donner has entered the lab.”

  Ericho recovered his strength. Ignoring the pain, he dashed toward the containment. He would be more aggressive when he caught up to Donner. Even though he’d been alerted to the assault, his desire to soothe the lieutenant had caused him to hesitate, not respond fast enough to the violence. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  “I have lost surveillance video inside the lab,” Jonomy’s voice came over the link.

  “How’s that possible?”

  “A simple means. The lieutenant has draped the overhead cameras with adhesive fabric.”

  “Where the hell did he get that?”

  “He had it with him, in one of the pockets of his jodhpurs.”

  He doesn’t want us to see what he’s doing. A more ominous conclusion surfaced. Whatever it is, he’s planned it in advance.

  “I am modifying the camera’s EM characteristics. I should be able to incorporate wavelengths that can penetrate the cloth and allow us to see–”

  A vibration shook the corridor. The rest of Jonomy’s words were lost in a wail of alarms. It sounded as if half a dozen systems had just gone to emergency alert status, each with a distinctive bell, klaxon or pulse. The shrieking mélange filled the air. It would be wailing away in every corridor and crew area of the ship.

  “Jonomy! What happened?”

  The mix of alarm frequencies blotted out his response. Ericho raced down the corridor toward the containment, trying to make sense of the warning signals competing for his attention. The highest pitched one was a Sentinel alert, in and of itself indicative of major trouble. A harsh beeping indicated the problem was internal and a thumping bass horn proclaimed a complete airseal shutdown, meaning the ship was being automatically compartmentalized against some hazard.