Void Ship Page 3

  She repeated this sequence more than a dozen times, each time reaching out with her arms into an enveloping nothingness. It was harrowing, but she kept her emotions in check as well as she could.

  After nearly twenty minutes of exploration with no results Makera was sweating profusely. She had no idea if she had moved at all from the skiff. Then she felt a tug, a hard one. She pulled back in response. This was met with another tug, then a strong jolt yanking at her. She started breathing heavily as the minutes passed in utter darkness, no sense of motion, no sense of direction. She periodically checked the tether to make sure it was still rigid, and it was, indicating she was being pulled back in. Just when she didn’t think she could stand anymore of the blackness the reality of the airlock burst into her senses like an explosion. She fell into the EVA-suited arms of Senator Tam Renwick as he pulled her from the Void and then slammed down the manual door seal. As the airlock pressurized she struggled in Renwick’s arms for a few seconds. He held her firmly and after a calming breath she looked up at him. His voice crackled to her over the com.

  “Sorry to be so abrupt, Ambassador, but I had to get you back inside,” he said. Her ears pounded with the sound of her rushing blood as the suit normalized itself to the surrounding atmosphere. She could barely catch her breath to reply.

  “Why?” she finally croaked out. He looked down at her.

  “Because we’re moving,” he said.

  3.

  “How?” Makera asked as she slid into the in the pilot’s couch next to Renwick.

  “I don’t know the manner of our movement yet, but we are moving,” said Renwick. “Poul noticed it on the motion sensor while I was tending your tether. My best guess is that we’ve been encased in a bubble, or a tube, if you will, of normal space. Inside that bubble someone, or something, is drawing us in. Look at the motion grid,” he pointed to the console. “It’s actually registering our position relative to the galactic core and the plane of the ecliptic again, but it’s such a vague reading we could be anywhere within a light year of the Minara system. From the readings though it’s clear we must have traveled a good distance when we entered the Void, that much I’m certain of.”

  “This behavior indicates the Void is of intelligent design,” Makera said. Renwick wasn’t so sure.

  “Possibly. It could also be that these pockets of normal space are natural, as is the Void, and we just happened to drift inside of one,” he said.

  “Your people created the Void,” Makera said. Renwick looked up in surprise.

  “Our intelligence always said that your people did,” he fired back.

  “We didn’t have the technology three-hundred years ago. We don’t have it now.”

  “Neither do we.”

  “Then what created it?” she asked. He shrugged and turned back to his display board.

  “That’s an answer I cannot give you. But I can tell you we are moving faster. Look at the motion readout,” he pointed again. “It’s increasing relative to the core. And the increase seems to be incremental.”

  “Another argument for intelligent design,” she said. Renwick found he couldn’t argue with her logic, so he changed tactics.

  “Let’s call the others together and brief them,” he said.

  When Poul and Myra were both present in the main cabin of the skiff again Renwick explained what they knew at the moment.

  “But what’s drawing us in?” asked Myra, concern etched in her voice. Poul Rand held her closer.

  “It could be a ship, or a base, or some form of natural object, or a sea monster for that matter. I wish I had more comforting words, but whatever it is, it’s an unknown,” said Renwick

  Poul said simply, “At least we’ll get some resolution to this. I was hating the thought of being trapped in the Void to die slowly.” This didn’t comfort Myra in the slightest, making her even more upset as her breathing started to increase, getting sharp and shallow. Renwick eyed Rand and motioned for him to take her into the back cabin again to calm her down.

  “You don’t like her,” said Makera to Renwick after they departed.

  “Liking her is irrelevant,” he said. “She is efficient at her job. That’s why she was chosen.”

  Makera crossed her arms this time, emulating a pose she had seen Renwick take often. “So now what do we do?” she asked. Renwick sighed and looked out to the blank blackness of space.

  “Now we wait,” he said.

  MORE THAN FOUR HOURS later they were still waiting. Renwick was dozing in the co-pilot’s couch while Makera studied the mysterious pocket of space they were in. After taking several rounds of readings, she reached out and shook him gently to wake him.

  “Look here,” she said, bringing up an energy measurement display. “I’ve managed to measure the area of normal space that we’re in. You weren’t far off. This area is shaped like a tube, though more accurately it could be described as a tunnel.”

  “A tunnel of normal space cut through the Void?” said Renwick.

  “Yes, and it’s definitely designed for us. In fact, as we move through it the tunnel is closing behind us as we move closer to our destination.”

  “Whatever that may be.”

  She nodded. “As near as I can tell the ‘tube’ consists of positively charged particles, literally light energy, if you will, balanced against the dark energy of the Void.”

  Renwick crossed his arms and sat back in his couch, contemplating their situation. “For the most of the last four millennia human science has believed that ‘dark matter’ couldn’t really be seen or detected, only speculated about. Then the Void came, consuming so many worlds, and we still couldn’t measure it, but we could see it. When I was a child on Ceta I used to look up in the night sky and cover it, the Void, I mean, with my thumb. By the time I graduated university I needed my fist. By the time I die it will cover half the sky. In two centuries it will consume my home.” He swiveled the couch to look at her. “Whatever it is, I want to stop it, and if where we’re going can lead to a resolution of the Void crisis, then I want to be a part of that.”

  “As do I,” said Makera. “Our race is in even worse shape than yours. Without this treaty and the technology of your Unity ships, we will be consumed before we can establish new colonies. I don’t like to think of myself as part of a dying race.”

  “Neither do I,” agreed Renwick.

  Just then every dial on the console went red.

  “What is it?” asked Makera, leaning towards him.

  “A contact,” replied Renwick. “And we’re being pulled right towards it.”

  THE CONTACT WAS HUGE. The coarse sensors on the skiff told them that much, but only that much. The lifeboat was never designed as a scientific vessel, which Renwick thought a pity. The data they could have collected on the contact would have kept both Unity and Raelen scientists engaged for decades, if they ever got out of this eternal darkness.

  All four of the survivors of the Phaeton were present now as the skiff approached the massive object that all of its instruments said was there, against all probability.

  “There!” said Renwick excitedly, pointing to a display that showed a visual view forward. “It’s actually visible in the natural spectrum and it’s emanating light!” He brought the display up in magnification and enhanced it so the others could see.

  The contact was big enough to be a human deep space station, the sensors indicating it was nearly five kilometers long from one end to the other. The ‘top’ was a giant flattened scoop shape, nearly half the contact’s width across, connected by a crane-like neck to a large base. The base itself was shaped like a flattened cylinder, with another scoop in front, facing the skiff as they approached. Extending out from the body of the base were two more flattened cylinders that looked for all the worlds like engines. A large structure seemed to grow out of the rear of the base cylinder, almost like the stern of an old Earth sailing galley.

  “It’s surely not one of ours,” said Makera.

 
“Nor ours, I’d say,” said Renwick.

  “Then who?” asked the frightened Myra, the tone of her voice indicating near desperation for an answer.

  “I’m sure I’ve no idea,” conceded Renwick.

  As they continued to be pulled closer it was the aft structure that they were drawn to. They passed by the massive top scoop, and looking into its dark recesses was not a comforting sight for any of the passengers. Then they were drawn over the body of the ship and finally over the foreboding aft structure, the skiff first floating past the stern and then into open space before being turned with expert skill by whoever was controlling them. They faced an illuminated deck intertwined with extensive geometric structure. Then they were slowly drawn inside, a tiny dot in space being consumed by the much larger mystery vessel.

  As they passed inside, the passengers of the skiff remained silent, watching in awe as they were pulled into the brightly lit bay and then gently dropped to the metal deck to settle amongst a host of other, unidentifiable craft. The massive doors they had entered through closed swiftly behind them. Whatever or whomever were the masters of this ship, the crew of the tiny skiff were now clearly at their mercy.

  A flash of light engulfed the skiff. Moments later the console instruments started twitching uncontrollably.

  “I’m reading atmosphere outside,” said Makera, “and heat and oxygen. It’s within normal ranges for both our species.”

  “Is that a man?” said Myra, looking out the cockpit windows. They all looked to the deck. A figure was moving towards them, either a man in a silver EV suit or quite possibly-

  “A robot?” said Renwick. As the figure pierced the environmental field surrounding the skiff, a quick yellow flash indicated it had passed through. A few seconds later and it moved out of sight of the skiff windows, but the destination was clear.

  The skiff’s airlock.

  Renwick gathered the passengers together, dividing up their supplies as best they could. He took the coil pistol personally, then turned to his crew of interstellar refugees.

  “They’ve brought us here for a reason, whoever they are. Logic would assume that they have some desire for contact with us. I can only assume that contact is intended to be peaceful, since they could have easily destroyed us at any time. At any rate, we really have no choice but to go outside. Are there any objections?” Renwick said.

  “Only to you being the one to carry the weapon,” said Makera. The rest just shook their heads.

  “Human weapon, human carries it,” he said back to her. “And I am trained in military tactics.”

  She smiled tightly. “So you say,” she said.

  “I’ll go first,” he replied, not missing a beat. “Then the Ambassador, then Poul and finally Myra. Wait for me to signal you out, clear?” Again, a chorus of nods.

  Without another word Renwick went to the airlock and pressurized it, then opened the inner door. He took a deep breath of cabin air and then depressed the button to open the outer door. He gave one last look to Makera, who nodded affirmatively in reply.

  The door swung up and a metal ladder deployed down to the deck where the robot waited. The robot was silver in color, with a sort of translucent green glow to it, almost as if you could see veins running through its body. It was shaped like a man, with arms and legs, none of which moved, and a rounded head with a single slit for an eye that ran across the ‘face’. It had no nose, mouth, or ears of any kind.

  There was a low hum as the robot glided backwards and away from the skiff. Renwick descended the ladder, stepping down onto the metal deck as the robot moved a few feet further back, its motion accompanied always by the hum. He motioned for the team to come out, and Makera was at his side a moment later, followed by Poul and Myra.

  “Now what do we do?” Makera asked, staring at the robot. Renwick shrugged.

  “Start negotiating,” he said. He stepped towards the robot, which moved back further again, its body pulsating with the green glow. As he got closer Renwick noticed that it wasn’t metal, but more some kind of softer material, very flexible, almost like human skin.

  “I thank you for your rescue,” he said to it, “Are you the operators of this vessel, or this station?” he asked. The robot said nothing of any kind. After a few more failed exchanges Renwick gave up and went back to his team.

  “Impasse?” asked Makera.

  “I don’t think it speaks our language,” said Renwick. Makera put her hands to her hips.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say this was an automaton,” she said. “A programmed device. Designed to serve a particular purpose, and nothing beyond.”

  “And what purpose do you surmise it has in mind?” said Renwick.

  “It came to greet us,” said Rand. “I’d say it probably wants us to follow it somewhere inside this thing. Remember, it, or something else, did bring us here.”

  “Something did,” agreed Renwick, nodding. “I think you’re right Poul.”

  Renwick looked to Makera.

  “Seems as logical a course as anything else,” she said. With a wave of her hand Rand and Myra joined the rest of the party on the deck. Then the robot turned and proceeded back the way it had come at a slow pace. The group of castaways followed.

  “Its feet don’t move,” said Makera to Renwick. He observed the robot for a few seconds as he walked behind it.

  “It’s got separate legs and feet,” he said. “It looks like it could use them if it wanted. Must be some kind of magnetic levitation. That’s the hum we keep hearing. Likely this whole deck is magnetized.”

  Makera noted the many other vessels on the deck, all of unique design. “This looks like a graveyard of alien ships,” she said. “That does not bode well for us.”

  Renwick looked to both sides, observing the other vessels. They were indeed dissimilar in many ways, and some showed the wear and dust of great age. Most were on the huge deck, but some were suspended high above them by forces unknown. He didn’t recognize any of the designs.

  “Without knowing how long this ship has been operating, it’s impossible to tell if these are ships from our pasts, or some other races entirely,” he said. Makera moved closer to him in response.

  The robot led them down a long gangway and outside the area where the initial environmental bubble had been established, then down an enclosed corridor towards a huge wall with a large red door on it, easily two stories tall.

  “Elevator lift?” surmised Makera. Renwick nodded while he continued to observe. His hand went to the coil pistol enclosed in his diplomatic vest. It was small comfort against the scale of the technology on display before them, and he doubted it would be of any use. Whomever had brought them here, the refugees of the Phaeton were all clearly under their control.

  The lift doors opened and they all followed the robot in. Then the doors shut behind them, closing with a thud. A second later and an unmistakable feeling of motion took over.

  “We’re moving through different gravity fields,” observed Renwick. “Deck after deck.”

  “And at a considerable rate,” noted Makera.

  Renwick turned to observe his other passengers. Rand had his arm around Myra, almost completely enclosing her. She still had the worried look on her face, and he couldn’t blame her. He turned his attention back to the door as their rate of climb slowed.

  The lift doors slid open to reveal a massive command deck. Large windows looked out on the blank black of Void Space. Dozens of consoles were lit up and humming with power in the shadow light.

  The robot slipped past them and onto the command deck, ignoring them and moving away, walking this time, as if it had other tasks at hand. From behind a large central console a pleasant looking young woman with flowing brunette hair, clothed in a short brown pattern dress and knee-high boots came towards them. She walked up to the crew and looked them all up and down, smiling the whole time.

  “Welcome,” she said in common Standard, “aboard the Kali. We’ve been expecting you.”

&nbs
p; They all stood together, looking at her and each other in stunned silence.

  “What are your orders?” she said.

  4. ABOARD THE KALI

  “Orders?” said Renwick. He looked to Makera, who offered no expression or comment. “I think there’s been some kind of mistake.” The woman merely stared at him, unblinking, then continued.

  “I am pleased that the relief team has finally arrived,” she said.

  “Relief team?” asked Renwick. He looked to his crew of survivors, then back at the young woman. “You mean us?” he said, pointing to himself for emphasis.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “Um,” started Renwick, “I’m not sure we’re the people you think we are.”

  “You’re not the relief team?” the woman asked.

  “What relief team?” he said.

  “Sent by Captain Yan.”

  Now Renwick looked completely perplexed at this. “Who is Captain Yan?”

  “Captain Yan is commander of the Kali. She went for help and promised to send a relief team after the accident,” the woman said.

  Renwick held up his hands. “Wait, we’re not the relief team. We were stranded in Void Space after an accident as well,” he said. The woman merely stared straight ahead, unblinking again, as if analyzing his statement. He felt Ambassador Makera’s touch on his shoulder.

  “Look there,” she said, pointing. “And there.” Renwick saw two other figures, one the male robot and one more distinctly female in appearance, moving about the command deck, working diligently while activating systems and monitoring readout displays. “The way they move. Like humans, but not quite.”

  “Androids?” he said. She nodded.

  “I think so.”

  Renwick turned back to the woman, who still looked at him, unblinking. “Let’s start again. I’m Senator Tam Renwick of the Terran Unity, and this is Ambassador Makera of the Raelen Empire. We were stranded in Void Space after an attack by Gataan pirates on our cruiser in the Minara system. We got stuck in the Void until we were drawn into this station by you. Now let me ask you a question. Who are you?”