Authors: J. Alan Field
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #First Contact, #Galactic Empire, #Military, #Space Fleet, #Space Opera, #Teen & Young Adult
8: Mirror
Near Planet Venus
Two standard days later
A brilliant burst of light announced the arrival of
Kite
as it concluded its twenty-six standard day journey from Rusalka to the Sol system. The ship’s flight program had been executed perfectly and it was now situated nearly 260,000 kilometers from the planet. However, the planet was not Earth. Despite the fact that
Kite
was stealthy, popping into existence near Earth amidst a host of likely hostile warships was a sure way to make the visit a brief one. Sanchez had programmed the ship to exit hyperspace behind the planet Venus, where they could wake from hypersleep, collect themselves, then begin an ion drive journey to Earth.
Frank Carr was awakened by a series of injections and the rising temperature inside his coffin. As the hypersleep chamber slid from the wall, he heard a gentle female voice say, “Good morning, Captain Carr. I trust you slept well.” Initially he thought it was Sanchez, but it turned out to be the ship’s computer using verbal niceties to stir him.
The first thing Etta Sanchez said to him was “Hey, you look like hell.” Carr swung his legs to the floor and stood, wobbly at first. “It’s all right, I looked like hell too an hour ago. Take it slow for the first few minutes,” she advised. Sanchez had arisen earlier to do ‘pilot stuff,’ checking the ship to make sure all was well after its eleven light-year jaunt. She was wearing tan coveralls, which got Carr wondering for a second if his memory of her semi-nude body just before hypersleep had actually been a dream.
He hit the head to relieve himself and get cleaned up. Shaving his face, he thought about leaving the stubble that had grown on top of his head but decided to remove it too. Afterward, he made his way to the co-pilot’s chair and wolfed down one of the CRPs, combat ration packets, thoughtfully provided for the journey by the Union Marines. It was his first meal in twenty-six days. Sanchez was finishing her ship checks having already eaten, as evidenced by an empty CRP carton at her side. Wheat cereal wedges, taffberries, and an apple slice for breakfast wasn’t half-bad, but none of the CRPs contained the one thing Sanchez craved.
“Man, I wish I had a cup of coffee right about now,” she said in a desperate tone.
“So, how’s the old girl looking?” asked Carr.
“Assuming you’re asking about the ship and not her pilot,
Kite
is looking very fine. And, she’s not an old girl, she’s a hot young chick and she’s ready to party. There’s no activity in the neighborhood. I was afraid they might seed this region with sensor pods, but nothing’s showing up. I suggest you use part of the travel time to Earth to work on some pilot sims, just in case you need to fly this thing.”
“Will do. However, for the record, I’ve already put in some sim hours back on Sarissa.”
Sanchez shot him a surprised look. “Really? And here I thought you were just flying through all of this by the seat of your pants.”
“I read the briefing tabs and everything. I may be somewhat cavalier, and maybe a bit bad-tempered, but I’m not entirely unprofessional.”
Sanchez groaned, rolling her eyes. “Oh, Gods, I should have stayed on the coffee plantation,” she laughed.
On the four-hour trip to the Earth, Carr worked through some piloting sims as promised, ran several low-level sensor sweeps of the system and actually dozed for thirty minutes or so. He didn’t understand why he would be sleepy after hibernating for almost a month, but afterward he felt refreshed. For most of the journey, Sanchez allowed the computer to fly the ship. To Carr’s amusement, she looked over the equipment again—
that’s got to be the third or fourth time she’s checked the same stuff
—found a small area of the cabin to do some stretching exercises, and ate another CRP, this time Rusalkan shark steak and a zavaleaf salad. The two of them talked, mostly about the mission, but occasionally the conversation strayed off topic. They seemed to be more at ease with each other now. Perhaps the confrontation back at Camp Caspeta had been a turning point in their relationship. At the first mention of family however, Carr quickly steered the discussion elsewhere. Once was all it took and Sanchez didn’t bring it up again.
“Attention: entering area of active sensor engagement. Counter-measures ongoing and evidence suggests counter-measures are successful at this time.” It was the computer’s way of saying “we’re here.”
“Thanks, Ship. Initiate passive scanning program Earthview-Zero-Zero-One.” Sanchez took control of the helm as they crept into what had to be considered hostile space about a half-million kilometers from the Earth.
Kite
wasn’t actually invisible, but the chances of someone eyeballing the ship were so small, it might as well have been. Just in case, she would keep a healthy distance from the numerous vessels and other objects flying about.
Kite’s
computer tracked thirty-two objects that it identified as spaceships in the vicinity of Earth. Some looked like transports of various sizes, but many were almost certainly warships. There were numerous satellites in orbit as well, several of them receiving particular attention from Sanchez.
“That’s how they were able to keep all of this a secret. These sats are emitting some sort of sensor haze that’s masking what’s actually here. You have to be close to the planet to read any of this. If we were, say ten million kilometers away, we wouldn’t know this stuff was here.” Sanchez was impressed and it showed in her voice.
Carr squirmed in his seat. “So, any indication they know we’re poking about?”
“None. Either they know we’re here and are playing it very cool, or our stealth is better than their anti-stealth. Let’s move a little closer, shall we?”
The Lieutenant Commander nudged her ship forward, taking care to stay away from the main body of spaceships moving to and fro. Most of the ships were shaped vaguely like crescent moons, the convex portion of the crescent being the front of the ship, with the pointy sections dragging behind. Several big objects caught their eye and the interest of
Kite’s
computer.
“Look at this,” said Carr, simultaneously caught up in the fascination of the moment but still diligently manning his station. “The computer has tentatively ID’d this large object as a small shipyard and this big one as either a space station or orbital habitat.” A low whistle came from Carr’s lips. “This is quite an operation.”
“Whoa! Carr, check out what’s behind your space station.”
As
Kite
crept through space, moving slowly to attract minimal attention, an enormous spacecraft revealed itself on the other side of the large station. Almost as big as the station itself, the goliath was not a crescent silhouette, but shaped something like a gigantic manta ray, well over four-hundred meters across. Shuttlecraft were coming and going from hanger bays located directly in the center of the beast’s belly. Needle-like spires stuck out across the surface of the great ship. Carr didn’t know what they were, but they looked nasty.
“Sanchez, that could be a problem.”
After another hour or so of drifting around and collecting soft sensory data, Sanchez nudged
Kite
away from the community of ships and orbital facilities. They were heading around Earth for a position over the continent of Europe and the site of the known colony.
“Co-pilot, take the controls,” she said as she stood from her seat.
Carr’s face flushed as he complied with her instructions. “What the hell! Got someplace better to be?”
“Right now? Yeah, the head,” she laughed. “Just hold her steady for a few minutes.”
Actually, Carr was aching to give it a go. He had piloted shuttlecraft before, but never a ship like the stealth scout. The controls were responsive and smooth, and the hours he’d put in on the simulator turned out to be time well spent. Just when he was feeling relaxed, a low-toned alert went off and the computer highlighted something off the horizon.
“If you liked that big-assed battleship, you’re going to love this,” he said as Sanchez slid back into her seat.
“What is it?”
“I have no idea, but it’s huge.” The object hung about 1.5 million kilometers from Earth.
Kite’s
computer showed it to be enormous, but was having trouble trying to render a visual representation to show the human crew.
Sanchez scanned over her instruments. “Whatever our new treasure is, it’s positioned at Lagrange Point Two. That’s a bit of a hike out and back, but we definitely have to check it out. Listen, I have a recommendation. Let’s call it a day, park, and get a few hours rest before we pursue this. We can add it to tomorrow’s work schedule.”
“Agreed,” Carr responded. Even though he knew the adrenaline pumping through him could keep him going for hours, his mind told him her notion was sound.
Kite
headed for their planned ‘parking place’—the dark side of the Moon.
Sanchez found a nice level crater and set the scout down. After securing the ship, the pair found themselves pouring over some of the volumes of data they had collected that day.
“For the hundredth time,” said Sanchez as she sipped from a water container, “it’s just incredible. Carr, do you think these could be people from some human settlement that we lost contact with after the Diaspora. A few colony ships from that time went out toward the Rim, in the opposite direction from our ancestors. Maybe they established settlements that grew into starholds and now they’ve returned to recolonize Earth. They might not even know about the Sarissan Union or the Renaissance Sector, let alone the Quarantine Treaty.”
“Well, someone knows about us because they’ve been attacking our outposts,” Carr pointed out. “And that still doesn’t explain the tech gap. Whoever these people are, they seem quite a bit ahead of us scientifically. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe they’ve had help,” Sanchez said. “Maybe they’ve had the alien contact that we’re still waiting on.”
“You mean they have little green friends. That’s a disturbing thought,” Carr said as he finished off his second CRP of the journey, a bland serving of tree hen and rice.
“Sanchez, how do you think the
Theodora
stumbled onto all of this? The analysis of their information put them somewhere beyond the asteroid belt when they gathered their data. With the jamming system we saw today, that gas miner shouldn’t have been able to see anything but an empty planet and empty space.”
“My guess is that the camouflage system was down for some reason—maintenance, malfunction, whatever. I think
Theodora
just stumbled into the system at the wrong time.” She took another sip of water then sealed the container. Conservation of supplies on deep space missions was second nature to pilots.
After dinner and winding down for a few moments—Carr listened to some music while Sanchez did more yoga stretches—it was time for sleep. In terms of bedding, the tiny cabin left few options, so they would be sleeping in their reclined pilot and co-pilot chairs.
The ship instrument lighting dimmed and the ambient lights turned soft blue. Trying to go to sleep, Carr noticed for the first time that the air was starting to smell different. It wasn’t dirty or rank, just different. Large spaceships could provide hundreds of people with breathable air for an almost infinite period, but he suspected that after a month in space the air recycling units of this small ship were starting to be challenged. Just another reason he couldn’t wait to get to the planet’s surface—
Earth’s
surface.
“Carr, do you think we’ll find those people on the surface?
Theodora’s
crew I mean,” asked Sanchez.
A few seconds went by before he replied. “Get some sleep, Sanchez.”
* * * *
“The time is now zero four-hundred hours. Good morning, Commander Sanchez. Good morning, Captain Carr. The time is now zero four-hundred hours. Good morning, Commander Sanchez. Good morning, Captain Carr…”
“Thank you, Ship!” Sanchez yelled as she jerked awake, straining to sit up. The cabin lights came up slowly and Day Two of the operation began. They took turns in the bathroom and ‘showering.’ To conserve resources, showering involved no water. Carr could never get used to the idea that rubbing gel all over your body and then wiping it off was considered a shower. He realized it was better than nothing, but when this mission was over, taking a long, hot, wet shower was going to feel very satisfying.
The journey to investigate the object at L2 was not planned in the original mission sequence and Sanchez was developing some anxiety about the fuel supply. After some deliberation among the two humans and Ship, it was agreed that they needed to make the L2 run, but there would be no further deviations from the schedule.
Getting to Lagrange Point Two took about forty minutes, but they only went close enough to do some long range, passive scanning. What lay before them were two half-cylindrical structures separated by about three kilometers of space. It looked as though someone had opened up a gigantic metal can, cut it in half, and pushed it apart a couple of miles. Between the two structures, the space was visibly rippling, as if it were a pool of water that someone had thrown a stone into.
“It’s a hypergate,” guessed Sanchez. “But I’ve never seen one being held open continuously like this. The energy needed to do that must be enormous.”
Carr agreed it looked like a hypergate and scans seemed to confirm it, but
Kite’s
computer was skeptical. All Ship would say was that the structure “did not conform to any known parameter.”
“Wonder where it goes?” asked Carr. “Want to make a dash through the opening and see where we end up?”
“Are you crazy?” Sanchez replied, hoping he was just joking.
Carr grinned at her. “My feeling is that taking care of this is going to be at the top of Admiral Getchell’s ‘to do’ list when the task force arrives.”
“If by ‘taking care of’ you mean blowing it up,” Sanchez said dubiously, “I hope we’re a long way away. Destroying an active hypergate is going to produce one hell of a bang.”
“It’ll have to be dealt with some way,” he responded. “We can’t let any more of those monster warships come through. Just that one looks like it’s going to be hard enough to handle.”