Far Space (28 page)

Everyone on board had crowded on the flight deck after landing to receive their orders. Merck cleared his throat again and the crew fell silent.

Merck tried to smile and failed before pressing on. “I wanted you all to be here for this historic occasion,” he began. “As far as any records indicate, we are the first human ship to land on this world.”

There was a spattering of applause from the crew. Mason was the only one who clapped enthusiastically.

Jennifer looked around. Only her experience with the rest of the crew kept her from being completely surprised by the severe lack of enthusiasm for what should have otherwise been the high-light of the trip. Morale could not have been lower. Whoever had thrown this crew together had done a poor job of selecting such compatible personalities which were forced together within the tight confines of a spacecraft. As it was, most of the people in the room had
gotten on each other’s nerves so bad, they essentially hated each other. There had even been a fist-fight the day before in the mess area.

The Captain held up his hands as if quieting a roaring round of applause. He continued, “And now, I believe it is time to reveal our true mission.” He looked over to the civilian next to him. “I believe you all know Mr. Monroe. Please share our little secret with the rest of the crew.”

Monroe took center stage and gazed around the room, trying to give each and every crew member his best ‘I’m about to share something big’ look. He managed instead to appear condescending. “Hehem, yes, the Captain and I felt it necessary to withhold certain information from you, for security purposes, of course.” Monroe looked around again, obviously expecting consent with his wise decision.

Of all the people she was trapped on this ship with, Monroe was her least favorite. If the man would have morphed into a snake and slithered around on his belly, she would not have been the least bit shocked.

“Ahem, yes, then...” Monroe continued. “I have been tasked by the highest levels, the highest levels mind you, of the U.S. government. My mission, with your help, of course, is to engage in a dialogue with the creatures on this planet. My primary goal is to attempt to strike up an alliance with these beings.”

This caused more of a ripple in the gathered crowd than actually landing on an alien world.

Monroe held up his hand and smiled a toothy smile. “Hmmm, yes, I know it sounds fantastic. But we have solid evidence, hard intelligence, that these poor creatures forced to inhabit this world are outcasts. Rebels, if you will. As such, we believe they will jump at the chance to take up the fight against their oppressive masters. Having such allies, would, needless to say, be of great assistance in our great and continuing struggle against a common enemy.”

Jennifer wondered if Monroe really did not know the aliens name or simply chose not to use it. The Soosuri name had been one of the first things she had deciphered on her own. She also wondered who, exactly the ‘highest levels of U.S. government’ were and what their ‘continuing struggle’ actually entailed. Nothing the man said made her want to trust him anymore than she already did. Jennifer kept her face impassive. This whole thing was getting fishier and fishier.

“Okay, we have a lot of preparations to make, so let’s get cracking,” Merck said, clapping his hands.

As the crowd moved off to various duties, Jennifer stood and ensured her datapad was safe inside her jumpsuit pocket. If the only information Monroe had to work with was the data from Six, he was blowing smoke. She looked around the room. Monroe had needed her to find this planet. He likewise needed the other specialists to somehow figure out how to talk to the Soosuri. But about what? Allies in the backwater of a star spanning civilization would not be much good in a stand up fight. She suspected Monroe cared nothing about an alliance with the Soosuri.

Something else going on here, Jennifer mused. Why had Monroe and Merck brought them all the way out here? She looked up to find Monroe eyeing her.

Jennifer and Monroe’s eyes locked. She held his gaze, suddenly afraid to let any shade of frailty show in front of the man. As the seconds passed, Jennifer imagined his countenance grew darker and more intense. She was starting to wonder how to end the silent combat when the navigator stepped in between Monroe and Jennifer. Jennifer took the chance to duck away to the hatch leading down to the crew quarters.

Jennifer had no duties to perform as the rest of the crew made ready to disembark. So, clutching the data pad in her pocket, Jennifer made her way to her cubical of a stateroom and latched the door. It was not much in the way of a private retreat, but it was all she had. Sitting on her bunk, she ran through the list of everything she knew of the Soosuri. Jennifer wracked her brain, trying to find what she had missed which would be a cause for this amount of intrigue.

Activating the data pad, Jennifer glanced over the material she had deciphered.

“What have you missed, Jennifer,” she muttered to herself. A thought struck her suddenly. “Maybe they’re after some sort of weapon.”

Twenty minutes of fruitless searching later, Jennifer leaned back and sighed. Nothing.

She shook her head. “These guys wouldn’t have weapons. They’ve been quarantined on this planet for…how long?” She read through the ‘quarantine’
instructions for the world she was now sitting on. The instructions they had just blatantly disregarded. Maybe Monroe’s people had misinterpreted the quarantine as evidence of a biological infection. Perhaps it was not a weapon they were after but something which could be made into weapons.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Jennifer said shaking her head. “How would you even use bio weapons in a space battle?” She dove back into the database.

Jennifer gave up after nearly two hours. She had only one important revelation during that time; once Monroe got what he came for, her life and the lives of the other scientists on board might not be worth the lump of rock they were sitting on.

C-31R SOF Reconnaissance Spacecraft - “Reaper 16”

Far Space – Third Jump from Jupiter Space

Ian touched the overhead in the control room and pushed. The isometric exercise helped relieve some of the tension built up in his legs and shoulders.

“That’s three jumps,” Robin said. She looked back at Ian. “How many more we got?”

Ian leaned forward in the tiny compartment and held up the data pad for her to see.

Robin let out a long whistle.

“Sixteen!?” Ghost said. “Cripes, this could take all week.”

“That’s sixteen total,” Robin corrected. “We only have thirteen more to go.” She turned to Ian. “Sir, if I may, I can lay in all the data and let the computer do some of the work for us. It should be able to give us a pretty good idea just how long this is going to take. Or do you already have an arrival time in mind?”

Ian handed over the data pad. “I estimated at least six days.”

Robin quickly downloaded the jump file and handed the pad back to Ian. He watched as the navigator entered and correlated the data within the navigation program.

“Six days and three hours,” Robin said after the nav system had finished its own number crunching. “Give or take ten minutes, depending on traffic, and allowing for an hour quiet time after each jump plus travel time between inbound and outbound jump point thresholds.”

“Uh,” Ghost moaned. “I thought we were out here for a quickie.”

Ian looked up to find Bridges staring at him. “And what exactly are we going to the edge of the galaxy for, Captain Langdon? I take orders from my superiors but I think you’ll find my crew and I are more helpful if we know the whole story.”

Ian considered for a moment and decided there was no reason to keep the purpose of their mission a secret now that they were far from Europa and possibly prying eyes.

“The route Robin just laid in the nav computer is the same path taken by a U.S. ship on a mission into Far Space,” Ian said. “General Yates wants me,
wants us, to find the ship, ascertain its mission and, in his words, ‘take appropriate action’, if needed.”

“Appropriate action,” Bridge said quietly. “That sounds like Yates.” The commander was silent for a moment before leaning sideways with his head supported by outstretched fingers. He fixed Ian with a piercing gaze and said, “Captain Langdon, even I, a dumb snake-eater had figured out what you just told me. Care to share the rest of the story now?”

Ian nodded and smiled. “Yes sir, but it’s a long story.”

Bridges checked the master time on his display. “We’ve got plenty of time before we reach the next threshold.”

“It all started,” Ian began, “with a little trip I took on an elevator…”

Star System 4576B

Far Space

Jennifer donned her encounter outfit, a sturdy, self-contained environmental suit and helped the rest of the crew unload supplies for their base camp. The planet’s air had been declared breathable and preliminary tests revealed no pathogens or harmful chemical compounds. Merck had decided to play it safe while waiting for the final assay, being run by MacGregor, the team biologist, and ordered everyone to wear the suits. If the tests came back negative, they would ditch the suits. From what she could tell, the place could pass as home.

Home, the word had a whole new meaning for Jennifer now that she was sixteen wormholes removed from Earth. Funny, she used to think just going to the Moon was a particularly long trip. Then it was Saturn. Cripes, what I’d give to be back on that trip with Ian right about now, she thought.

Jennifer stood up from her task of staking out a shelter and gazed out over the waters of this unnamed planet. Calling it 4576B-2 after the stellar designation of the star and the fact this planet was the second from the local star just did not do it justice.

The local sun was just touching the horizon. It burned a little cooler than Earth’s Sun. This just made it a deeper orange color which contributed to the fantastic sunset. The clouds streaking the sky burst into color; first burning orange then fading to red, the clouds an even richer tapestry of color as the sun sank lower toward the horizon. Finally, as the last sliver of the rusted orb disappeared, the clouds softened to purple and then faded gently. The first star of the night appeared off to the right.

Seeing the first star, Jennifer could not help herself. The moment was so perfect, she wished for the first thing she thought, summed up in one word. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Ian.”

The sky was noticeably darker when Jennifer opened her eyes a few long moments later. She looked back at the ship, crouching on the rocky shelf. Before AM power, there would have been no way to land a spacecraft on such a field. As it was, the crew had been able to work their magic with the landing thrusters and done a reasonably good job picking a spot. Of course, who
could not make landing look easy when you basically had unlimited power and thrust at your command?

Jennifer looked around at the unfinished camp then at the pole in her hand. She tossed the pole onto the pile of fabric which would be a tent tomorrow and headed back to the ship. A short queue of suited crew members waited outside the decontamination annex which had been erected at the airlock. The sonic shower and ultraviolet bath would ensure nothing unwanted got back inside the ship except sterilized suits and tired humans. She was the last one to head back to the ship which meant she was last in line.

“So much for ladies first,” Jennifer breathed.

The next morning, Jennifer was up early and joined Thuros Rider at the airlock. There was a strict buddy system when going out. Rider wanted to gather some samples and Jennifer was more than willing to volunteer to serve as the older geologist’s partner. Away from the ship with Thuros, the day would be at be much more cordial.

The ‘ship’. Why did the thing not even have a name? Just another mystery Jennifer had encountered during the mission.

While Rider gathered up some sample bags and tools from a packing crate outside the airlock annex, Jennifer wandered along the side of the ship, looking for any markings. Anything would do if it had no name. It should at least have a model and production number. She was suddenly determined to name the ship by the end of the day, even if she had to make it up. Rider came up and stood beside her.

“Looking for something?” Rider asked.

Jennifer looked over at the stocky geologist. “Just trying to think of a name for this tub.”

Rider looked up at the ship and a thoughtful look crossed his face. “You know, it’s the color of coal and has an odd shape, how about we call her ‘Lumpy?’”

Jennifer bit her tongue for a moment before she could answer without laughing. “Dr Thuros Rider, PhD, do you really think Lumpy is a good name for a spaceship?”

“Why not,” Rider said, “it also describes this lump of land we’re on, the lump on my head from hitting a door frame last night, and the texture of the oatmeal I had this morning.”

Jennifer shrugged. She really had no good alternative. “Okay, the USS Lumpy.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s settled,” Rider said. He handed Jennifer some collection bags. “Now if you’re done with your intellectual exercise for the day, let’s do some real work.”

“Yes sir,” Jennifer said. “Maybe the Captain will give us some paint later and we’ll make it official.”

“Perhaps,” Rider said. “But you would really need a Champagne bottle for a proper christening.”

“Well, were not done unpacking. Who knows what’s in these other boxes.”

“Ah, ever the optimist,” Rider said. “Come on, the rocks wait for no man.”

“Or woman,” Jennifer added.

C-31R SOF Reconnaissance Spacecraft - “Reaper 16”

Far Space – Third Jump from Jupiter Space

LtCol Bridges had not moved while Ian told him the highlights of his connection with the alien spacecraft Six.

Ian had started with the destroyed elevator car, his egress jump, and the disappearance of the ship from Earth’s orbit. He then moved on to describe the Cheyenne mission, skimming over the combat with the aliens. Ian described the problems with pulling the alien navigation files and other data from Six’s equipment. Finally, he finished by describing the unusual classification and apparent disappearance of the data.