Impulse (15 page)

“Not really, sir. With this equipment, it's like finding a needle in haystack,” I answered honestly. She considered all this for a moment. Then she made her decision.

“Turn us around, Mr. Marker. No point in delaying the inevitable. Mr. Layton, plot us a course back to the Search and Rescue shuttle.” She paused before turning to me. “And you, Mr. Cochrane. Finding that needle would go a long way toward easing my anger at you.” I nodded, then dove right back into my longscope scans.

The scans were fruitless. We were back to the S&R shuttle in due course and when we got to her, we did a damage survey and concluded our best chance was to actually drain the remaining resources from the S&R rather than transfer to her. We did a series of EVAs, connecting power transfer cables and running the Downship exclusively off of the S&R shuttle power supplies, which were lower than we anticipated. And now we had a clock: eighteen hours and
eleven minutes
until we exhausted both the S&R power and our own reserves. Then Captain Zander and the others would die, we would put on our EVA suits and live a few hours more, then join them. It was a bleak prospect.

Marker and Layton kept busy converting the rear of the passenger cabin to bunks so we could rest, though as tired as we were none of us were really able to sleep under the circumstances. No one wanted to spend their last few hours of life dozing as if they had no concerns.

I'd taken a rest shift after Layton and Marker, and I was halfway through my two-hour rest period when, unexpectedly, the commander parted the curtains and joined me, lying down in the second bunk across from me. We stayed that way in silence for several minutes, the cabin lights dim and the room quiet. Layton had my station at the longscope, but I felt useless lying there wide awake. So I sat up, ready to resume my duties.

“Please stay,” came the commander's voice out of the darkness. I dutifully lay back down, waiting for her to continue. “It's hard for me to admit, but you did end up saving Zander, though I don't agree with your methods,” she said. I pondered this a moment.

“I acted on impulse. Trying to save the captain was my only thought. I never thought about what I was doing, I just reacted . . . just did it,” I said by way of explanation. She said nothing more for a moment, and I thought perhaps the conversation was done, then:

“I've decided your actions in rescuing Zander won't be in my official report.”

“Thank you, Commander,” I said. Then the silence between us resumed. I had hoped she and I would become friends on our mission. Now I doubted if that would ever happen. After a few more minutes of silence, I sat up.

“Request permission to return to duty, Commander, and resume my scans. I can't sleep anyway. If I find anything, I'll let you know right away,” I said. She said nothing in response for a few moments, so I stood to go.

“You did good work in rescuing Zander. Carry on, Commander,” she said from the dark. It was the best compliment she could give me.

Ninety minutes later I had something to report.

“Wake the commander,” I said to Layton. “Tell her I've got an HD signal.” What seemed like seconds later Dobrina was standing beside me in the pilot's cabin. Layton took the nav station again and Marker the con.

“Report,” she said. I turned from my station to face her.

“About ten minutes ago I detected what looked like an HD signal,” I said. “It was faint, and not coming from the direction that
Impulse
had gone, toward the inner planets. Rather, the signal seemed to be coming from the near jump point. I thought it might be a reflection of some sort of anomaly at the opposing Lagrange point, so I checked it further.”

“And?” she said, impatient.

“The signal is powerful enough to be
Impulse
, but the mass displacement is far too small,” I continued. “I can't know for certain with these primitive longscope instruments, but I'd have to say it's a new ship that has entered the system at the jump point.”

“A
new
ship? Not
Impulse
, and not big enough to be a Lightship?” she asked for clarification. I nodded.

“Affirmative. It's much smaller, but every bit as powerful as
Impulse
, based on its HD signature. And it's heading our way,” I said.

“To rescue us, or to finish us off?” she asked. I shook my head.

“Unknown,” I replied. She contemplated this a moment, then:

“Everyone into your EVA helmets. Sidearms and weapons. If they're coming to finish this, we won't go down without a fight,” she said.

There was a round of “yes, sir,” and then we all got down to business.

The wait was excruciating. The HD signal was getting stronger, closing directly on our position. I used one of the 'scope displays to get a look at her—she was dark and shaped like a dagger. If I didn't know she was there from her HD signal I would never have seen her. I had to admit the shape of her looked menacing, and that wasn't very comforting.

“Is she close enough for radio contact?” asked Kierkopf.

“The ship-to-ship isn't strong enough for a signal from this distance, and this ship has no longwave,” I said. “But we could try sending an IFF signal.”

“And hope they're friend, not foe?” she asked. I nodded.

“The way they're closing on us, it will all be over one way or another in a matter of minutes anyway,” I offered. She thought about this for a moment.

“Send the IFF ping,” she ordered.

“Yes, sir,” I said. I looked to Marker, who had control of the automated signal. He unlatched the key and typed in the code to send the signal. “At this distance we should get a reply within thirty—”

I was cut off by the positive beep from the return. Layton, Marker and I all smiled. Commander Kierkopf did not.

“So they say friend,” she said. “We'll find out in a few more minutes.”

At that, the radio com chimed for an incoming signal packet. Not a call, but a signal they were ready to receive a call from us. “Radio contact, sir,” I said. Dobrina nodded.

“Let's reply.” I hit the send button and she spoke. “This is Commander Dobrina Kierkopf of the Union Lightship
Impulse
. To whom am I speaking?” she said. There was a crackle of static as the line popped and blipped, but the response didn't come. “To whom am I speaking?” she repeated.

“This is Serosian,” came the raspy reply, “Historian of
H.M.S. Starbound
, on a rescue mission. Do you need assistance?” Now I smiled broadly.

“Indeed we do,” said Commander Kierkopf. “Indeed we do, sir. Can you lock on our coordinates?”

“Already done, Commander,” came the deep and familiar baritone reply. “I will be alongside you in seven minutes. Prepare to transfer at that time.”

“We have wounded here,” she said. “Can you assist with them?”

“Affirmative,” he replied. “I have full medical facilities on board. May I inquire as to the status of Captain Zander and
Impulse
?” he asked.

“Captain Zander is one of our injured.
Impulse
is . . . missing,” Kierkopf replied.

“That's what I feared,” came Serosian's voice back through the static. “One last inquiry. Is Peter Cochrane among you, or with
Impulse
?” he asked. Kierkopf looked at me and smiled.

“Oh, he's about two feet in front of me, Mr. Serosian. And I'll be glad when you arrive so that I can be rid of him,” she said.

The chuckle on the other end of the line gave me hope for the first time in days.

Rescue

S
erosian's ship, which he called a Historian's Yacht, pulled alongside us precisely seven minutes later and extended a sophisticated umbilical to the Downship's docking port. We had the injured survivors, including Zander, out of their docks and transported to the yacht within thirty minutes. The yacht contained a much more advanced automated medical facility than we had even aboard
Impulse
. The automated system was contained in a crystalline chamber that glowed and hummed with pulses of white light. I couldn't pretend to understand its functioning, but Serosian assured me that Zander and the others were already on their way to being healed and in no danger of dying, once we had loaded them onto pallets and sealed them inside the chamber. Recovery could still take weeks though, he said.

The rest of the yacht was every bit as impressive as the medical chamber. From the command deck,
Starbound
's Historian oversaw every function of the ship, monitoring from behind a central command console big enough for at
least three people
. He ran his hands effortlessly over the console, his hands moving in and out of the display like he was dipping them in a smooth, black pond. The surface rippled like water when he touched it, but his hands never came back wet from contact.

Behind the console was a pair of adjunct stations. The front of the command deck was entirely taken up with an impressive seamless visual display, which currently showed the way forward. Much like our displays on
Impulse,
there were a multitude of options: tactical, systems, star map, or “normal” visual view. The whole effect was like being in a high-tech, three-dimensional theater, only what you were watching was real. It was also of far higher quality than what we had available on
Impulse
, making it seem almost like you were looking out a window into space itself.

Once we were settled, Commander Kierkopf in the couch to Serosian's left at the main console and me to his right, with Layton and Marker at the rear stations, he put the yacht in motion on a course directly for Levant Prime, leaving the discarded shuttle and Downship behind.

“This vessel is not a standard navy ship,” said Kierkopf, her comment half statement and half question. Serosian shook his head.

“No, Commander, it's not. But it is
part
of a standard navy ship,” he said. Her brow furrowed at this answer.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He nodded upward, not taking his attention from his tasks. “If you went one deck above you would find my library, office, and sleeping quarters as they appear on
Starbound
. In fact, when this ship is docked, it is part of
Starbound
,” he said.

“Really?” I asked, fascinated by this. “You mean this yacht is the core of
Starbound
?” He nodded.

“In a sense, yes. Under normal circumstances the yacht is docked inside
Starbound
, with its own power source, of course, but I only activate it in an emergency or when the yacht needs to operate independently. I can control every aspect of the ship, any system, from here. It was designed as a failsafe, in case anything were to happen to the Lightship's own hyperdimensional drive.”

“Wait,” said the commander, “we were never told about this capability. Do you mean that at any moment a ship's Historian can take control of
any
Lightship?” Serosian nodded soberly in response.

“And this is what I fear has happened with
Impulse
. Tralfane is from a different school of thought than I am, a different sect of the Historian Order, if you will. Something must have happened to cause him to act, to take control of
Impulse
, for her own good.”

“Or for his own purposes,” I said. Commander Kierkopf waved me off.

“And the command crew of
Impulse
, or any other Lightship, are never told of this command override functionality that you Historians possess?” she asked. He looked at her sidelong for a moment.

“Since you are the acting captain of
Impulse
, I will answer that question, even though I am under no obligation to do so. Captain Zander knows of this, as does Captain Maclintock of
Starbound
and Captain Scott of
Valiant
. The idea was presented by us to the Unified Navy command during the design phase of the Lightship program, and signed off on by Admiral Wesley and your father, Peter,” he said, turning to me. Then he turned back to Kierkopf. “And so now I am informing you because you are the acting captain of
Impulse
.”

Acting Captain Kierkopf paused for a moment to let that sink in, which afforded me an opportunity to jump in with my own questions.

“I don't understand how
Starbound
is functioning without the yacht connected. And how did you know we were in trouble?” I asked.

He smiled at me, like he always did. “
Starbound
is perfectly fine. She has her own HD drives and can carry out her mission for months before the crystal will need any kind of maintenance. As for how I knew you were in trouble, I didn't. But I did have orders from Admiral Wesley to shadow your mission, in case you got in trouble. And you did, Peter,” he said. “Though not in the way we anticipated.”

“That's certain,” said Captain Kierkopf. “And I don't want to break up your happy reunion, but I have a serious question: can we catch
Impulse
?”

Serosian's smile faded and he looked more pensive now. “Unlikely,” he said. “We have the same impeller propulsion capabilities as she does, which means Tralfane can keep his distance as much as he wants to.”

“But he's burning his impellers full bore. His fuel reserves must be nearly gone,” I protested.

“The impellers are designed to channel energy from the Hoagland Drive if necessary. He may never run out of fuel,” said Serosian.

“Something else that isn't in the specs,” I stated. Things got quiet as Captain Kierkopf contemplated the situation.

“Where's he going with my ship?” she said. “Why Levant?”

“Because I suspect there is something there that he values, something he knows about, or suspects. Something he wants.”

“To what end?”

“As I stated, his school has a different philosophy than mine. We are dedicated to the Union and to your well-being and protection, your nurturing, if you will. His school believes that the strongest should rule. It may be that he has decided that the empire represents the best chance for humankind's rejuvenation.”

“Which makes him our enemy,” said Kierkopf. At that a signal chime beeped in. Serosian checked his panels, which were a mystery to me, running his hands across the console. “What is it?” asked the captain.

“Bad news. I'm picking up signs of depleted hyperdimensional energy along our current path. That can mean only one thing.”

“What?”

“He's bombarding
Impulse
's primary HD drive crystals with anti-protons,” said the Historian.

“Which means?” the Historian looked grim.

“He's destroying her hyperdimensional drive. If he's controlling
Impulse
from the yacht, it means he's crippling her.”

Six hours later I was working at the yacht's impressive longscope station when our circumstances changed dramatically.

“I've got a signal,” I called back to my companions. Serosian and Kierkopf were hovering over my shoulders in seconds.

“Report,” demanded Dobrina.

“I'm not sure if it's
Impulse
yet, but the signal is strong and I'm detecting depleted duranium on the trail we've been tracking,” I said. The two of them watched as I brought up the long-range tactical display on the main viewer.

“That's her,” said Serosian, after only a second.

“What's she doing?” asked Dobrina.

“Maneuvering,” said the Historian, pointing to a red path that displayed
Impulse's
track. “She slowed long enough to orbit the smaller satellite, here. It cost her nearly four hours of her lead on us. But now she's passed behind the satellite and is back on track for Levant Prime.”

“But why would she stop? What could be on the satellite that would make Tralfane give up nearly four hours of his cushion against us? He must know we're coming,” I said.

“He certainly does,” said Serosian. “He needed something from the satellite, and felt it was important enough to risk going there and losing more than half his cushion. He'll need time to accelerate as well. What's our current distance?”

“Three point four light-hours,” I replied after checking my display.

“Can we catch him?” Dobrina asked Serosian. The Historian nodded.

“At his current speed,” he said. “we can get within firing distance before he reaches Levant. But it will be close. Very, very close. And we don't know for sure if Levant is even his objective. He could be aiming for some other target, something closer. Even the larger moon, perhaps.”

Captain Kierkopf stood up and crossed her arms. “Is there something you're not telling us? Or something you suspect?” she said. “I insist that you share.”

Now Serosian stood to his full height, facing the captain as I swiveled in my chair, looking up at both of them. Serosian was impressive in his tallness, his all-black Historian's garb making him seem even more imposing than normal. But Dobrina was strong in her own right, I'd seen it before, on the fencing court, and she wasn't going to back down from him. She believed herself to be in command of this mission, and she was going to fight for that command.

Serosian clasped his hands behind his back before speaking. “Commander Kierkopf—” he started.

“
Captain
Kierkopf,” she interrupted, insisting that he acknowledge her acting rank. He nodded.

“Captain, I can only conclude that this maneuver had some intent. A Historian like Tralfane, so well trained and experienced, would not freely give as much ground to us as he did without some goal in mind. What that goal is I don't know,” he said.

“But you suspect?” Again he gave that slight nod of acknowledgment. She eyed him warily. “Then I demand to know what it is that you suspect.”

Serosian contemplated her, the two of them engaging in a standoff right above me.

“I would prefer to keep my suspicions private until I have more knowledge of the situation,” he said.

“Not acceptable,” she replied. “Not at all.”

“Captain, please understand, there is certain knowledge that I possess that I have sworn an oath to my faith to protect. No orders from you or anyone else of any rank, or royal station,” at this he glanced in my direction, “will be sufficient for me to reveal all that I know, or suspect.”

Dobrina opened her mouth to protest again but he quickly held up his hand to her.

“However,” he started again, lowering the hand, “I will promise you that at the proper time, if circumstances warrant, I will reveal to you and anyone else involved with this situation all that is necessary for you to know in order for you to act to protect your lives and this ship.”

She nodded, not satisfied, I could see, but accepting, for the moment. “And what about
Impulse
?” Dobrina said.

Serosian got a pensive look before answering. “All I can tell you is that your ship and its crew are in grave danger, and that I will do everything in my power to save her and her crew.”

“I will hold you to that, Mr. Serosian,” said the captain, not breaking eye contact.

With that, Serosian started away, calling back to us. “I'll be in my private chambers. If anything changes, I will return. No need to keep me updated, I can monitor all stations from my personal console.” And with that he was gone.

The captain dropped her arms down to her sides, hands clenched together in fists, clearly frustrated. Then she spun my chair back around to my station, leaned in close, and whispered fiercely in my ear.