Beyond the Sky: Chapter 24
Challenger
Seeing as she wasn’t going anywhere, Captain Benson gave Takji the run of the ship. After, of course, providing her with a machine in a backpack, from which an air tube ran to clip in place over her nostrils. An “oxygen condenser,” he said, with a warning to never take it off unless she was back in the Envoy Compartment. Human air was thinner than a high mountain peak.
Takji still felt woozy, either from oxygen deprivation or sheer mental overload. The hallways were spacious, wide enough for two people to pass each other, and lit by the same lighting panels as the rooms. Elevators connected the decks, stacked like a skyscraper. The alien crewmembers gave her glances that might’ve been curiosity or apprehension, she soon realized why: She’d feel pretty nervous if her father invited a barbarian tribesman to wander the Palace’s halls.
Some were humans, but most another species Benson called “marsi,” who had been “uplifted” from creatures called “possums” on the human homeworld. They were shorter, with white-and-black fur and pink-nosed snouts, and busied themselves tapping at consoles or tinkering behind wall panels.
A curious device approached, floating in midair by some unknown means, looking like sets of triangles flanking a central body with lights and a black patch that might be a camera.
“Greetings.” The voice of Carter, again. “Captain Benson requested I keep an eye on you.”
“Can I refuse?” she grumbled on reflex.
“Unfortunately not, if only for safety’s sake. Some areas of this ship pose hazards to untrained persons.”
“What are you?” The instrument through which he spoke resembled a flying creature of some type, and earlier he’d observed the goings-on in rooms. She’d pictured a human watching an array of display-glasses like a security guard.
“An artificial mind,” came Carter’s immediate reply.
“A thinking computer? Sir Prespik thinks we’re twenty years away from that.”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath. Nor am I a computer in the strictest sense, I am as much hardware as software, just like an organic brain. The ship, in essence, is my body.”
That gave her a new feeling she wasn’t sure she liked, and the mental image of sailors’ tales about being swallowed by giant fish.
“And this?” she indicated the hovering device.
“A simple guardian drone, full sensor suite and light defensive capabilities. You may act as if it’s not there.”
“That’s not so easy.” Several passing crewmembers gave her glances. “Tell me about this ship. How does it work?”
“A question indicating any number of ship’s systems, please specify.”
“I mean; how did you get here? It doesn’t seem like you were swishing your tails for decades.”
The guardian drone faced the stripe of black display-glass along one wall. A video square appeared, showing a planet with banded clouds.”
“Hur’gat.” Takji recognized it.
“The second gas giant in your solar system.” Carter’s voice now seemed to come from the display, as if he’d shifted focus. “And under magnification...”
A blue square highlighted a patch of empty space and expanded to fill the screen. Not so empty—in its center floated a giant metal ring, thick-edged and with an eerie blue glow issuing from the interior rim. The camera panned slightly, to put the planet behind it.
It did not fill the interior. Takji sputtered in confusion before realizing—it wasn’t hollow! Or was it? Inside the ring were stars, but different in pattern from those outside.
“The human word for this references an animal not existent on your planet, and hence does not translate. It is an aperture, or gateway, connecting two distant points in space.”
“Gelec’s Mirrors!” Takji exclaimed.
“Elaborate.” Carter’s bluntness caught her off-guard.
“It’s an old legend from the Walled City. Queen Gelec had a pair of mirrors, each opening to the other. When the Garjax—Trinn warlords of the North—attacked, she passed her baby through to safety.” Just a story, of course. Far more likely she’d given him to a Flyer.
“A remarkably apt comparison. This stargate, or Mirror, if you prefer, connects to a counterpart in another system, which connects to another, and henceforth. Our entire civilization is networked in this manner, and our first act upon identifying your planet as an exploration candidate was to open this portal. We did it here, away from your immediate gaze, and came through in this ship.”
“Can you teach us how to build it?”
“That will take time. Though not as much as you might think.”
“What’s down that way?” Takji pointed right.
“The engineering compartment. I can show you, if you’d like.”
“Please.” She’d come to appreciate the alien ship in a way, once she calmed down enough to think. Regardless of whatever craziness happened down below, back home—a nuclear war, even—she’d be safe up here.
A double-door at the hallway’s end opened into a two-story compartment flanked on its walls by ranks of display-glass consoles, staffed by crewmembers. Some looked up as she entered, drone hovering over her shoulder. At the far end was a hexagon of great, thick windows, looking in on something emitting an ethereal blue glow, like the pool of a nuclear reactor. A turbine-like rotating component spun in front.
Between the two main sets of doors was a large, subtly-curved, display panel with a slanted input surface bearing keyboard-like buttons and small windows. The big screen showed a schematic of the ship, the same arrowhead-tower shape she’d seen earlier.
Carter narrated as the view panned: “Exploration Service Vessel Challenger, Manley-class, commissioned in 176 of the Unified Era, commanding officer Arthur Buchanan Benson and shipmind Yours Truly.”
“Challenger?”
“As in a scientific challenge, like climbing a mountain or traveling to a new planet. Our dispatchers expressed some concern over the name, its martial undertones, but Captain Benson had none of it.
“Design features include a redundant cluster of three gravitational impellers and radiator arrays, and a full suite of deflector emitters.” Various parts of the diagram highlighted as he spoke. Takji noticed he avoided any mention of weapons, despite several features she took for such.
“And that’s the Black Triangle hangar?” She indicated a large space near the middle, with a depiction of one parked inside.
“The shuttle bay, yes. Our compliment of auxiliary craft also includes one Stratzenblitz-class scout, and emergency descent pods.” A depiction followed of small blunt-bottomed objects launching from the ship’s middle and bottom, descending to a planet below. She didn’t hear the rest.
“Can I see the engine?”
“Of course. Access is to outboard.” The drone led her across the engineering space, to a narrow hatch in the wall. A mechanism like a rotating handle was built flush into it, as Takji approached it turned and a human emerged from the hallway behind. He paused, surprised, then muttered something and continued on, oblivious to the respect due a Princess of Mespreth. “This way.”
The drone flitted inside.
Takji slammed the hatch on it, spinning the handle back into place. Then she ran.
Comments