Operation Chimera (18 page)

“Frank, what sort of explosive are we talking about here?”

“I am unable to determine the exact nature of the device at this time, Captain. Neither explosion was detected by internal security screens; therefore I predict with a ninety-eight percent degree of accuracy that the devices were shielded.”

“How long have thossse chargesss been in place? Do you think they were inssstalled prior to launch?” Lieutenant-Commander S’lestra asked in a whisper.

Driscoll whirled on her. “Commander, now is not the time for speculation and conspiracy mongering. I will not have this bridge become a breeding ground for dangerous gossip.”

She bowed her head. “Understood, sir.”

Driscoll looked at them all, one after the other as he spoke. “Right now, our priority is to get the
Manhattan
back up and running. The enemy is out there, and our people are fighting them. It is only a matter of time before the Draxx find us. I shouldn’t need to tell anyone what will happen to us if we’re still floating dark when they get here.”

rifting in silence, Green Wing had lost all communications with the
Manhattan
. Despite several minutes’ worth of work, and several threats, Michael received only static from the console. Emma studied the outline of the derelict, aghast at the amount of force necessary to snap such a thing in half. Debris floated near the break, but her attention focused on a faint light toward the rear, just below the engine ports.

Keg ducked through a purpose-built iris door in the rear of the Manta’s cockpit, and soon emerged outside the fighter. He drifted out over the wing, surveying the damage. After a trip back to the tiny airlock, the bot set about doing field repairs.

The flickering light from the arc welder on Keg’s third arm glimmered through Michael’s cockpit. His finger tapped a dead screen as he considered the reason for the loss of communication. They had not gone that far away from the carrier. By distance alone, they should not have been out of touch. If the problem was signal interference from the nebula, why had it just started now? Perhaps it was a migratory cloud, some manner of energized storm that will pass.

“Lieutenant?”

Michael looked up at the sound of the placid female voice. “What is it, Betty?”

One of the small screens on the left side presented an image of the
Lewis & Clark
. “We are receiving an inbound communication request from the damaged vessel. It is using an older encryption modality that is no longer in use by Terran forces.”

“Okay, let’s have it.”

A thin blue line stretched across the smallest screen at the top left corner of his console, immediately to the side of the short-range spatial map. It warbled in the manner of an oscilloscope as a bored male voice came through with a lot of interference.

“―dentify yourselves. Your craft bear Terran mar… no recognized ship designs.”

“This is Lieutenant Michael Summers of the Terran Fleet, please state your identity.”

“I am EDEN 2.2 Experimental Digital Entity.”

“Whoa, hold on,” said Liam. “They didn’t have AIs back when this ship was launched. They had Kegs.”

“What?” Keg swiveled away from his welding. “Did someone call me?”

“Nothing, carry on.” Liam saluted the droid.

“Oh, very well.” The droid maneuvered another panel into place with his arms, and resumed welding.

“You’d think they could have mounted that welder in a better place,” said Liam, chuckling. “It looks like he’s doing something obscene to the wing.”

Aaron laughed.

The blue line blurred, the cadence of the voice went up and down, not fitting any emotion to the words. “I am experimental. This ship is experimental. My existence was not public knowledge.”

“Are you self-aware?” asked Michael.

“I am,” replied the voice. “Though I do not possess what you would refer to as a personality. My function was to maintain the ship’s systems and record data from tests.”

“What sort of tests?” asked Emma, still staring at the engines.

EDEN paused for a moment. “That is classified.”

“Jump drives,” said Michael. “They were testing hyperspace travel with this ship. It never came back from the first run.”

“How do you know this? This information was―”

“Classified, yeah I got that.” Michael rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Calculate the current year, Eden. You’ve been adrift for eighty-six or so years. You are a Terran ship. We are Terran pilots. The
Lewis & Clark
’s disappearance is well documented.”

“I now understand why your hull designs are not recognized. Adding to database, one moment.”

Michael, Aaron, and Liam, being in a straight line across from each other, exchanged incredulous glances.

“Eden,” said Zavex, “we are reading a life sign aboard. What is the status of the individual?”

Silence.

“Guess those old databases are slow.” Emma sighed into the mic.

“Update completed. Query received. Error, system damage is preventing access to medical bay. Parsing logs, please stand by.”

Everyone, except Emma out in front, found Keg’s work on the wing fascinating over the next several quiet minutes. When he drifted back through the airlock, they tried again to raise the
Manhattan
with little result.

Keg glided into the cockpit, coated in frost. “Will you look at this? Huh? What am I supposed to do with this?” A small gripper hand gestured at his body.

“Condensation. It’ll melt.” Liam used his green shamrock travel mug to avoid touching the sub-zero droid, pushing him back into the co-pilot’s station.

“I swear, they ain’t got no respect for lil’ old me. I put in almost seventy years with this outfit, and what do I get for it?”

“Keg?”

“Yo?”

“Did you bang your head on the way in?”

“Look, pal. I’m a damn box. I don’t have a
head
so just knock it off with the discrim―”

Liam hit him with the mug.

Keg swiveled to face him, grabbing at the places that would have been a head if he did not have the shape of a beer fridge. “What was that? Did you hit me again?”

“Yes, you went loopy.”

“Oh.” He floated into the co-pilot seat, and joined the others in trying to get the
Manhattan
on comms. “Sorry about that. Loose board or something I guess.”

“Log parse completed,” said EDEN.

Everyone jumped, and then stared at the scrolling blue line. Liam traced his fingers over the screen. Emma leaned closer. Zavex paused breathing, and even Aaron gazed with rapt fascination.

“Preliminary test diagnostics indicated all systems functional. Captain Obadiah gave the order to initiate transit into hyperspace. For reasons I am unable to determine, only forty-four percent of the ship entered hyperspace. The forward section remained behind. Eden lost contact with the bridge following this event. I estimate that the crew casualty rate is ‘high’ as a result of the malfunction.”

Michael, Liam, and Aaron exchanged another glance.

“So you have no idea what’s still alive in there?” asked Michael.

“Sensors are offline. I can confirm that the infirmary module still has power and ninety-seven percent of this section of hull has retained atmospheric conditions.”

Emma broke into the conversation. “If someone’s still alive in there, we have to get them out.”

“I agree,” said Zavex. “The survivor could have been one of the design engineers. They may have valuable information.”

Aaron grimaced. “Or it could be a janitor, a saboteur that knew the test would malfunction, or someone who’s sick and was already in the infirmary.”

“I doubt a saboteur would have stuck around for the finale,” said Michael. “Zavex, you up for a little walk?”

“Right behind you, Dragon.”

“Everyone else, stay alert. We’re not planning to window shop. Betty, give me a local map with a route plot to the infirmary.”

“One moment, Lieutenant,” said Betty.

The left and rear Glaives fell out of formation, taking a long curve to the underbelly of the stricken titan. Aaron pulled abreast of the Manta, giving Liam a nod. Michael slipped forward in his seat as he decelerated once the gargantuan wall of metal passed overhead, replacing the endless black with greenish metal ‘sky.’ He grumbled at the flat, paneled surface.

“Lieutenant, the shuttle bay on this vessel was amidships and accessible from the sides. It was on the section that presumably no longer exists. My recommendation would be to enter via the hull breach at the forward end.”

“Thanks, Betty.” Michael turned his ship in line with the wreck. “Zavex, we’re going for the break. Shuttle bay is vaped.”

He left the derelict above him, ignoring the sensation of flying upside down ten meters off the ground. They swerved around communication relays, cargo pods, and floating debris. Once clear of the end, they cut speed and pulled up. Michael flipped his Glaive about, pointing it at the open hollow and coming to a dead stop in comparison to the wreckage. Zavex’s ship eased alongside. Both men stared into the hollow cavity where humankind’s first attempt at hyperspace travel failed. Thousands of bits of flotsam drifted through the gaping, twisted metal. At least one or two body parts joined the cloud of fragments, e-tablets, mugs, and furniture.

“There, low right. We should be able to settle in if we’re careful.” Michael nosed his fighter through the breach, guiding it to a gentle landing.

He broke out in a sweat when the ship’s weight shifted a few seconds later and the room tilted. Sensing no further movement, he let go of the stick and tapped a few buttons on his left forearm. Segmented plates extended upward, over his neck, and linked to his helmet, sealing it. A few seconds later, the reassuring hiss of atmospheric pressure filled his ears. A light on the console went orange as the fighter reclaimed the air inside the cockpit, leaving him in vacuum.

“Zavex, I don’t care what that AI said, don’t break e-seal in there. We have no idea what might be floating around.”

“Roger.”

Both canopies opened at the same time, Michael flipped over the side and used his handgrip to guide himself to the storage compartment on the side of the nose. He grabbed an emergency e-suit and flipped the panel closed before pushing off the fighter and gliding alongside Zavex. The Talnurian swatted a floating chair, sending it spinning off into a dark bowl-shaped indentation in the floor.

“That was where the hyperspace engine used to be.”

Zavex paused to stare. “The parabolic bowl in the floor is for what purpose?”

“The floor was originally flat.”

“I do not think these people felt anything.” Zavex shook his head.

Michael slung the e-suit case over his shoulder on a strap and held his hands out as if he were grabbing flight controls. His flight suit sensed his gesture, and the reaction control system activated. Precise puffs of compressed air hissed out of his shoulders, back, and boots, launching him in a calculated drift for an internal door. Zavex followed.

The access panel flashed an evacuation alert, indicating that all personnel should find the nearest escape pod. According to the screen, EDEN had issued the order eight hours after the event due to ‘safety protocols’ when the Captain had failed to do it. As a result of the abandon ship order, all of the internal doors’ security was disabled.