by Rachel Aukes
“He’s fine, and she’s still the same. Punch is strapping her to the bed right now,” he replied, then added, “He’s assuming we’ll get out of this black hole.”
She swallowed. “We’ll get out of it, and we’ll be better prepared next time.” She looked outside the window to see only black. Not a star in the sky. Would they get out of the black hole, or would they be trapped in it for eternity? Shaking off the sudden chill, she focused on the systems. Air processing and the heat systems were back online and functioning at near-optimal levels.
She switched views to the flight-control systems and frowned at the gibberish. Speed, trajectory, maps…all data flashed different numbers constantly, as though the sensors were trying to collect the data but kept receiving different stats. “Sylvian, see what you can find with the flight systems. They’re on the fritz.”
“Full diagnostics are complete. There is no significant hardware damage, and all systems are functioning properly.”
“No, they aren’t, Rusty. Look at the flight systems,” Throttle said.
“I show that the systems are all working. The problem is with the data coming into the ship.”
“You’re saying the black hole is giving us screwy data?” Throttle asked.
“Yes.”
“Then how do we know we’re flying in the right direction, or that we’re even flying? Without any stars out there, we can’t even use celestial navigation to visually plot a course.”
“Engine power is currently at idle. We can assume that we’ll fly forward by adding power. Let me run scenarios to determine how to establish a trajectory, assuming that’s even possible in a black hole,” Rusty said.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Eddy said.
“Join the club,” Finn said.
Throttle turned to the three crewmembers on the bridge with her. “The black hole had a way into it, so it’s got to have a way out of it.”
Eddy shook his head. “Not necessarily. There’s so little known about primordial black holes that we don’t know if it has an exit. It may just be black matter forever and ever.”
She scowled at him. “For the sake of wanting to live, let’s assume we’re going to find a way out. Let’s also assume that leaving is likely going to be as violent as entering was.”
Eddy shook his head again. “Even if it has an exit, we’d never be able to break from the gravity.”
She pursed her lips and held up a finger. “Assume that we’ll figure that out, too. So how about you two guys see what you can do to make sure the ship and everyone on board are ready for when that happens, okay?”
Eddy shrugged. “Fine, for all the good it’ll do.”
Finn rolled his eyes, put a hand on Eddy’s shoulder, and escorted him from the bridge.
Throttle sighed.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the communications system is dead,” Sylvian said. “Well, it’s not dead. It’s just that I can’t reach anyone. I tried to send an emergency beacon, but it’s like we’re in a dead zone.” She winced. “That’s probably a bad choice of words.”
“I have completed analyzing scenarios,” Rusty said.
“Tell me you’ve got something,” Throttle said.
“My recommendation is to make no adjustments to our heading or power settings. When the black hole pulled us in, the gravity would’ve naturally acted like a funnel and brought us into the center, where we should still be moving forward at the same speed as that which we entered with. Assuming this black hole is a one-way hole, in that its gravity pulls from one end toward the other end, then we will, at some point, be ejected through the other side.”
Throttle scowled. “That sounds like it’s completely based on assumptions.”
“It is. Due to my lack of understanding of black matter, my recommendation is based on my current scientific understanding.”
Sylvian chuckled drily. “So you’re just guessing, like the rest of us.”
“Yes.”
Throttle blew out a breath. “Okay then. When do you guess we’ll be ejected from this thing?”
There was a delay. “I don’t have an estimate, but I would expect for us to be traveling through this anomaly for an extended time. I recommend we minimize all power usage, as my hull cannot absorb any solar energy while within a black hole.”
Sylvian sucked in a breath. “How long before your power runs out?”
“If we maintain environmentals at the minimum survivable limits—”
“We will maintain environmentals within the survivable zone,” Throttle interrupted.
“Then my power cells will deplete in roughly six years, four months, twenty-eight days, and nine hours.”
Throttle rubbed her forehead as dread poured into her body like sand through an hourglass, each grain smothering a second of her life. “You won’t have to reduce power that much. We only have four months’ worth of food on board.”
Sylvian’s mouth opened. “I-I…”
Throttle nodded. “I think you should go check on Finn. I have things covered up here right now.”
She pushed to her feet. “Okay.” She stood for a moment, then turned abruptly and left the bridge.
“So we’re going to starve to death.”
Throttle turned to see Punch standing in the doorway.
“Maybe not. For all I know, we could break out of this hole in minutes.”
He ambled inside. “They’re called black holes for a reason. Things that go in never come back out.”
“Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” she said.
He shrugged. “My daughter’s in a coma. We’re in a black hole. Not a lot to be optimistic about.”
“Your daughter’s alive and with you. We’re alive. In my book, that’s plenty enough to be optimistic about.”
“I never took you for an optimist.”
“Then you don’t know me very well.”
He watched the floor, scuffing at it for a bit, before looking back up at her. “So you were following me back there.”
Throttle eyed him. “You’re welcome.”
A hint of a smile faded as soon as it’d formed. “Why were you following me?”
She watched him for a moment before answering. She could’ve told him that Chief had given her the order, but she said the truth instead. “Sylvian told us about the data card.”
“Ah. I figured she would have. She’s a bit of a Goody Two-shoes, that one.”
“She’s a friend and a team member. We trust one another because we don’t withhold dangerous secrets from one another.”
“And you don’t trust me.”
“You’ve never given me a reason to trust you. We thought that you were going to sell the data card, and that’s exactly what you did.”
He held up a finger. “I didn’t sell it. I traded it for my daughter’s life.”
“You still performed an act of treason. We could’ve told Chief, but we didn’t.”
He frowned. “Why didn’t you?”
She cocked her head. “Because we were giving you the benefit of the doubt. We were hoping that you weren’t going to use it. But if you did, we were going to be there to do whatever we could do to keep it from ending up in the wrong hands.” She looked out the window. “Looks like it still ended up in the wrong hands.”
“Not all of it, at least,” he said.
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I kept a few files off it. Just enough that they won’t have a complete picture of the Atlas network architecture.” He shrugged. “But it probably doesn’t matter. They still have plenty enough to start building their own.”
“Who knows? Maybe the other ship was sucked into this black hole, too. If they’re stuck in here with us, they can’t get that data out to anyone.”
“Ah, there’s that optimism again. You should watch out for that. Optimism’s been known to lead a person into trouble when they should be running in the other direction.”
Chapter Ten
All three marshals’ emergency locator transmitters—or ELTs—went offline at the same instant the tracker Chief had placed on the Javelin went offline. Their last readings were deep within the Tumbleweed Trail asteroid belt, in the vicinity of a rock cluster field known to damage ships.
The Black Sheep were supposed to be on vacation, but no one on vacation would choose to visit an asteroid belt that was known to hide pirates and other criminals hoping to avoid the law. Chief’s jaw tightened. He knew Finn had been holding back earlier; he should’ve pressed the marshal harder.
He tapped a finger on his desk while he thought. Occam’s razor would point to the most obvious cause of three ELTs and a tracking beacon going offline at the same time. That meant that everyone on board the Javelin was likely dead from a collision with an asteroid. But Chief also knew that the asteroids held secrets, secrets that he’d been read into when he became director, but secrets he’d found hard to believe at the time. He was now reconsidering his earlier disbelief.
Galactic Peacekeeper general protocol dictated that Chief should send a marshal to investigate the Javelin’s last known coordinates to verify the deaths of five Peacekeepers. His gut told him that this wasn’t some run-of-the-mill crash. Even though the asteroid belt was full of obstacles, a ship would have to be traveling at near jump speed to crash so devastatingly as to kill everyone on board instantly, let alone destroy all ELTs and a tracking beacon.
He accessed the Atlas chips of four of his best marshals. When they each answered, he said, “Prep your crews, and meet me in the docking bay in one hour. We’re going on a search-and-rescue mission to the Tumbleweed Trail. You should prepare for a worst-case scenario, so I’ve given you all complete access to anything you want out of the armory.”
“Why do we need to be loaded for bear on a simple search-and-rescue?” Marshal Gavin “Detroit” Jackson asked through Chief’s implant.
“The High Spirit’s dead in space and the Javelin’s completely offline,” Chief replied.
“Oh. Shit. Pirates?” Detroit asked.
“Possibly,” Chief replied.
“I see four marshals on this call. That’s four ships. Which of us do you want to take point on this mission?” Marshal Hank Williams asked.
“There are five ships going on this mission.” Chief corrected. “I’m taking the lead in the Gauntlet.”
Chapter Eleven
Vantage-Zulu-Seven-Seven-Four relaxed after it entered the beltway. For the next twenty-two days, three hours, twelve minutes, and forty-six seconds, it had complete autonomy to do anything it pleased. Mostly, that meant packaging surveillance data, performing thorough diagnostics, and running various upgrades on its drones. But since purging its human passenger, it also spent the time analyzing the data sent by the nanites before they’d been completely destroyed by the beltway’s electromagnetic pulses.
The probe, like all Vantage, was fully shielded against EMPs. The other ship obviously was not and must’ve been hit by a significant electromagnetic wave, because all the remaining nanites were wiped out in an instant. The probe knew that when the nanites died, the human died, and it found a sense of satisfaction in that. But any feeling of accomplishment was overshadowed by the knowledge of the other ship following in the beltway.
If only the probe could maneuver while in the beltway, it would destroy the ship. But the beltway took away all maneuverability. Once entered, the object would be delivered to the other side. Both the probe and the ship would exit the beltway into the Vantage system. There, Vantage Core would destroy the ship, and the probe would face a lengthy debrief. It could’ve avoided the debrief if the ship had never entered the beltway.
Despite Core’s orders, Vantage-Zulu-Seven-Seven-Four really should’ve destroyed that ship.
One of the packaging programs displayed a warning notice. The probe reviewed the warning and paused. The data received from the human was incomplete. At the time of receipt, the probe verified that the transmission had finished successfully, but as it analyzed the data, it found pockets missing. Either the human was incompetent in a simple task of copying data, or he’d intentionally withheld data. Both were possible, and both were likely. Still, the data provided would likely be enough for Vantage Core, as its data collection was for identifying weaknesses rather than gleaning ideas for advancement. Vantage hadn’t identified any opportunities for advancement based on human findings for many decades.
Vantage’s reason for existence was knowledge: the search for and accumulation of information. They had acquired so much information through the centuries that they were far more advanced than any organix species they’d surveyed. They expected to meet another mechanix species at some point, but Core estimated that it would be a few thousand more years before that day.
Until then, all Vantage would continue to acquire knowledge and fight any species that posed a threat to them or their purpose. The probe didn’t consider humans a real threat—their technology was obsolete compared to any Vantage technology. If someone was to disable the humans’ technology, how long would they survive? They wouldn’t need a war to eradicate humanity; simply finely targeted attacks on the pillars the species depended upon would be sufficient.
The probe was excited to share the data from its nanite experiment. As Core said, to defeat one’s enemy, one must understand their enemy. And Vantage understood humans very well.
Chapter Twelve
The alarm blared for the third time that day.
“Rusty, it looks like we’ve lost the air processor again,” Sylvian said.
“The other systems are all reporting errors as well. I haven’t found a way to shield the ship against the small EMP waves that keep passing through the Javelin,” Rusty said. “Attention, crew: I’m rebooting all systems in three, two, one.”
The lights went out, and everything went silent.
Seconds later, the lights flickered back on and the quiet hum of the systems returned.
Throttle entered the bridge. “That’s the third reboot in the past hour.”
“You were supposed to be sleeping,” Sylvian said.
Throttle took a seat at her station. “I woke early to get in a bit of exercise. My muscles were getting too tight.” She reviewed the data on her screens. “Why the surge in EMP waves?”
“Rusty thinks we’re nearing the end the black hole, which is why the malfunctions are occurring more frequently now. Fortunately, Rusty’s shielded against most of the waves that are hitting us, so he hasn’t gone offline since we entered the black hole,” Sylvian replied.
The software specialist had dark circles under her eyes. Throttle and Sylvian had been alternating six-hour shifts, to have one human at the controls when the inevitable malfunctions occurred.
“Go get some sleep. I’ve got things covered here,” Throttle said.
Sylvian frowned. “But your shift doesn’t start for another hour yet.”
“I’m good. Go. Take advantage of the extra hour before Finn’s off his shift. You look like you could use some sleep.”
Sylvian gave a small smile as she pushed to her feet. “Thank you.”
Throttle stretched her arms and back while Sylvian trudged off the bridge. Sylvian was one of those people who needed more sleep than others. Throttle slept fewer hours than most but also slept harder than most. She could sleep through just about anything quieter than a ship alarm. The alarms were currently shut off in all the cabins so that the crew could get some rest, but even Throttle was finding it harder to rest when every day brought the same black abyss and more malfunctions.
She continued to read through the data on her screens, trying to find some logic in the frequency of the EMP waves that had been washing through the Javelin since they entered the black hole. She looked up at the metal orb in the ceiling. “Morning, Rusty.”
“It’s afternoon in the Canaan time zone,” Rusty replied.
She sighed. “I don’t suppose you have anything new to report on this black hole and
how long we’ll be in it.”
“My sensors continue to collect massive amounts of data, but it’s often contradictory or nonsensical. The laws of science behave quite differently in a condensed black matter space. Unfortunately, that means I don’t have any new insights about our journey through this black hole.”
“I figured as much, but a little good news would’ve been nice,” she said.
“Eddy has completed reconfiguring the circuit breakers so that less power goes through each breaker. It reduces the chance of failure due to power surges by four percent.”
“That’s nice,” she said drily.
“Finn and Punch have produced twelve hundred rounds for the rail gun and have enough extra material to produce at least thirty thousand more.”
She perked up. “Now, that is useful.” She cocked her head. “Where’d they find the material to make that many slugs?”
“Finn discovered one of Eddy’s stockpiles of metal.”
“Eddy has stockpiles?”
“He has several. He’s filled all my cargo compartments below the flooring.”
Throttle straightened. “I thought you just had wires and pipes underneath the floors.”
“I do, but I also have unused spaces, which Eddy has found uses for. He likes to hoard metals.”
She chuckled. “Why am I not surprised.”
An alarm blared. Throttle scrolled through the error messages on her screen. “It looks like—”
“The water system is offline,” Rusty answered for her. “I will reboot the system now.”
“Thanks,” she said.
Rusty spoke again. “Throttle, Macy has entered ventricular fibrillation again.”
Throttle frowned. “What do you mean, ‘again’?”
“She also entered ventricular fibrillation four hours ago. This is the second occurrence. I am currently applying cardiovascular defibrillation directly to her heart. Correction: her heart rhythm has returned to normal. I’ll continue to monitor her biorhythms and apply immediate medical response as necessary.”
