The Agathon: Book One (18 page)

“Hello, Doctor McDonnell,” said Carrie.

“Please don’t call me that, Carrie. Makes me sound like an old codger. Call me Kyle. What are you pretty ladies working on?”

He joined them at the workstation and gave a caring flick of his eyes in Meridian’s direction. Carrie liked him. He was a
kind
-hearted and jovial man and had a real love for Meridian that comforted her. He always wore his lab coat, neatly pressed over his colonial jumpsuit. His thick brown loafers made no sound when he walked and he often commented on how comfortable they were. His hair was unkempt and badly in need of shortening, but he wore it well around a soft charming face. When he spoke, his soft Scottish brogue was pleasant on the ears.

“What’s this then?” he asked, poking his finger into the floating image and whirling it around. It flickered but held its form.

“It’s a big sandwich, you oaf. What do you think it is?” Meridian said, pushing his hand away.

“Ooh okay, touchy. Did we not have our coffee yet?” Meridian simply sighed.

“It’s a fragment from the last data stream sent by the signal makers,” said Carrie, trying to avert a fight.

“It’s not human,” he said quickly. McDonnell was light mannered, but highly intelligent.

“Well done, genius,” said Meridian. He ignored her and peered into the image.

“Look at the base pair sequences. Jesus Christ.”

Meridian slapped him on the arm. “Language,” she said. He looked at Carrie.

“Sorry.” Carrie waved it away.

“Why would there be gaps like that in the sequence, Kyle?” she asked.

“Could be an error in the transmission. They did send a Gamma pulse straight after. Unlikely though. This isn’t a joke, this was really sent in the signal?”

“Yes,” Carrie said.

“Christ,” he whispered.

“May I?” he asked Meridian, who gave up her seat. He took the console and began manipulating the image, looking at it from various angles and at various magnification settings. He went silent for a moment.

“Could be a test?” This caught Carrie’s attention.

“The gaps,” he said. “Look at the gaps.”

“Sweetheart, can you bring up a human DNA sequence for comparison. I want to check something.”

“Sure thing, sweet cheeks,” said Meridian, trying to play down his slip. Carrie pretended not to notice the redness in his face. He would be in trouble later. She tried not to laugh. Meridian pulled up a random sample of human DNA and it rose into view. Both strands now floated side by side. All three stared at them for a moment. Kyle tapped a command into the computer.

“Remove incomparable nucleotides along base pairs,” he said into thin air. The computer responded by removing the multitude of base pairs in the alien DNA sequence, until it began to resemble the human sample.

“If you wanted to identify a species from another planet how would you do it?” Kyle asked, looking at Carrie.

“Propose a mathematical puzzle and ask for a response?”

“Impressive. Not just a pretty face, eh?” he said smiling.

“What are you saying? That they sent us a puzzle then blew us out of the universe?” Meridian added.

“I don’t know,” said Kyle.

“But if we fill these purine and pyrimidine sequences in with fragments from a human DNA sample, then resend the whole sequence back as a completed fragment, we may get an answer. No?” Nobody answered.

“Just a thought.”

“Can we transmit in hyperspace?” Carrie asked.

“I don’t know, Carrie. We’ll have to ask Emerson or Tyrell that. Shit. Tyrell won’t be happy about not being in on this. Think it’s time we give him a call?” said Meridian. Carrie nodded.

“Super,” said Kyle raising his arms. “He’s just a barrel of laughs.”

“Doctor Meridian to Doctor Tyrell,” she said into the computer. There was a pause.

“Yes, Doctor, how can I be of assistance?” came a laboured reply.

“Can you meet me in my lab, Doctor? We have something of importance to show you before we approach the captain.” She heard a sigh on the comms. Carrie shrugged.

“I am on my way,” he said, grumbling. Carrie felt the tension in the room rise.

“Dunno how you put with that guy, Dice,” said Meridian.

“My father says I have my mother’s patience,” she said with a smile. Meridian put a hand on hers.

“That you do, but more importantly you have her eyes.”

12

Med
ical bay

Fifteen days since departure

12:00 Martian Standard

“I
f you were in any better shape you would be in a museum,” said Brubaker. Carrie had put off seeing the doctor until she was on board The Agathon. Even then she had made excuses not to see her for fear of Brubaker exposing something. She lay inside a diagnostic tube, of which there were four in the main medical bay. She wore a standard medical gown. The state of the art facility was well equipped to handle most off world medical issues, with plenty of supplies and extra bio beds that could be set up in the cargo bays in case of a pandemic. Although Brubaker was relatively short in stature, her gruff voice was packed with authority. Her greying cropped curly hair was held tightly against her head as she gazed at Carrie’s innards. She knew that Brubaker held a flame for her father. One that was not reciprocated. Carrie had found her to be a weathered type of woman.

“Okay, Ms Barrington, you’re good to hop,” she told her. The clear tube rotated her out from underneath the scanner and split in two, allowing her to step out easily.

“No sign of anything, Doctor?” she asked, looking at the floor while putting on her jumpsuit.

“Not a thing.” She looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “What should I be looking for, Carrie?” Carrie finished getting dressed, then turned to Brubaker.

“Nothing. I’m a little paranoid, that’s all.”

“Right,” Brubaker said frowning.

“Carrie, everything you say to me stays between you and me. You know that, right? Just because there aren’t that many of us left doesn’t mean all our rules are thrown out the airlock. If you have something to tell me, just tell me.” Carrie thought about it for moment.

“Did you find any residual electrical activity anywhere in my body?” Brubaker leaned back her chair and put her fingers through her hair.

“What kind of electrical activity. Static? Your neurological bio chemistry is completely normal, Carrie.”

“I have been getting mild shocks, that’s all.” Brubaker stood up and took a small handheld medical device from a drawer. She began moving the
multi
-coloured cylinder around Carrie’s head.

“When did they start?” she asked, watching the readouts on the wall carefully.

“A few weeks ago. Before we left Mars.”

Brubaker frowned. “Hmm,” she said. “Tell me about them.” Carrie thought for a moment about telling her everything but she couldn’t have her father worrying needlessly.
There are bolts of lightning firing out of my fingertips
!

“It feels like a static shock. Might be caused by excess
build
-up of charged particles on the inside of the lab walls. Doctor Tyrell and I have been running a lot of
high
-powered experiments, trying to boost the range of The Agathon’s stellar cartography abilities.” Brubaker looked deep into her blue eyes.

“I’ll take some readings of the lab later on to make sure there’s no residual charge,” she said. Carrie stopped her train of thought.

“That’s okay, Doctor. I can take those readings myself. I don’t think Tyrell would be too pleased with others poking around the lab. He’s quite particular about that.”

“I bet he is,” said Brubaker. “If it happens again I want you to come see me immediately.” She finished up her scan and sat back in the chair.

“Everything else going okay for you? How are you holding up with all of this?” Carrie hadn’t been asked that directly by anyone as of yet and the question took her by surprise.

“As well as anyone else on the ship, I suppose.”

“Ha,” responded Brubaker, rubbing her face. She had clearly not gotten any sleep lately.

“Some are not handling it well at all,” she said, straightening herself. “Poor Bobby Shields hasn’t left his quarters since he boarded. I have to bring him his meals every day or he’ll starve to death. Poor kid is scared out of his mind.”

“Understandable,” said Carrie. She stretched out her thoughts and felt Bobby’s terror for an instant before recoiling.

“You have a very strong head on you, Carrie.”

“My mother’s, I think,” she responded.

“Your mother was
bull
-headed. She was a great scientist but leaped before she looked. Don’t you make that mistake. Wherever we end up on this flying bullet, you make sure you keep your senses.” She gave her a friendly tap on the shoulder. “Now what’s this I hear about a DNA fragment?” she added, smiling.

“It’s a small ship,” Carrie said.

“That it is,” Brubaker said.

“If you are free, Doctor Meridian would like you to take a look at it today. We need a report to my father by first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Let me finish up with some patients and I’ll be right there,” she replied with a friendly smile. “How is your father doing, by the way?” she asked.

“My father is my father. If he could lift the universe up on his shoulders, he would,” Carrie said.

“Do me a favour?” Brubaker asked.

“Keep an eye on him?” Carrie finished. The doctor smiled and nodded.

“Burdens of command can isolate and he’s not the most forthcoming man about his stresses. He has no love of doctors.” She paused and looked at Carrie. “Unfortunately.” Carrie nodded.

“I will, Doctor, thank you for your concern.” She began to leave.

“Carrie, might do you good to get some exercise if you are in that lab all day long. Cargo bay one makes for a great running track. It’s good for the heart.”

“Thank you, Doctor, I’ll do that.”

Carrie left the medical bay and made her way to Tyrell’s lab. The low hum of the ship quietly filled her ears. She walked past a number of people as they went about their daily duties. Some of them she recognised. Others she had never met, having transferred in from one of the Jycorp stations. She smiled and nodded at the colonists as she walked past. They were afraid. Their uncertain faces told her stories of loss and hopelessness. The air was tense in the corridors. The psychological profiles of those who chose a life off world usually included a healthy sense of adventure and appetite for risk, but nothing came close to preparing them for something like this.

“Hey, Carrie,” came a young male voice. She turned and greeted Sam Reynolds, a mechanical engineer from Dallas, Texas. At five foot eight he was a stocky
twenty
-
nine
-
year
-old, who had spent most of his time at Atmo One running maintenance on the atmospheric regulators. He had a thick black beard and always seemed to be covered in some sort of grease or oil. He was carrying several meters of cable hooped over his large shoulder. Carrie often figured him to be a handsome man, if he ever emerged from the forest on his face.

“Good to see you, Sam,” she said smiling.

“Tyrell still got you locked up?” he asked gruffly. He had a warm nature about him. The silent type. He had strong brown eyes under thick dark eyebrows.

“Still,” she said. He stood beside her and looked around at the others passing them on the deck.

“How fucked up is this? I heard Mars was broken in half by the Earth fragment?” Carrie looked past him.

“How are you holding up?” he added.

“Okay, I guess. I consider myself one of the lucky ones; my family is all here,” she said. She paused for a moment. “Almost,” she added. Reynolds nodded and gave a reassuring smile.

“Well, our good captain has me running around the ship rerouting half the electrical conduits. Turns out, in the rush, someone forgot to hook half of them up to the main power grid so running water is a problem for a lot of the ship.”

“No better man for the job,” Carrie jested.

Without warning the two were suddenly thrown against the bulkhead. The whole hallway listed sharply as colonists were flung on their sides. The force of the impact knocked the wind out of Carrie, as the lights in the hallway dimmed and turned to red. Her shoulder absorbed most of the impact, but Reynolds’s arm had caught her. Her forehead began to drip with blood. The gravity seemed to right itself as she found herself on the floor cradling her arm. Reynolds was unconscious. He had hit his head on the wall. She reached out and felt his pulse. Still strong.

“Sam?” she asked with her hand on his cheek. “Sam, can you hear me?” His heavy eyes slowly opened.

“What the hell?” he grumbled, placing his hand on his head.

“Take it easy, you’ve had a knock to the head,” she said.

“All hands, this is the captain,” came a sudden announcement.

“We have had a momentary loss of power from the inertial dampeners. Possible impact on the outer hull. We are trying to disengage the FTL to assess damage. Please stand by and report to medical bays if injured.”

“You’re bleeding,” Reynolds said, looking at Carrie. She placed her fingertips on her forehead and felt the gash.

“Just a cut,” she answered, “Come on, let me help you. We should go to the medical bay,” she said, linking her arms under his and helping him up.

“Thanks, I’ll be all right. Not my first bump on the head. What the hell could have hit us in hyperspace?” Carrie shook her head curiously.

Agathon Bridge

“Hull breach on deck three,” shouted Chavel. He had just picked himself up off the deck, along with most of the bridge crew. Barrington had rolled under Boyett’s flight chair and was crawling back to the centre seat.

“Bridge, this is Tosh, running down the FTL now. Sixty seconds.” He sounded out of breath, no doubt having been thrown from his chair.

“Emergency bulkheads in place on deck three, atmosphere contained,” he continued.

“What hit us?” Barrington barked.

“I don’t think anything hit us. Seems to have been from inside the ship.” Barrington turned to Boyett.

“Charly, prepare for normal space.”

Boyett acknowledged with a simple, “sir.” She righted herself in the flight chair and switched all viewers to forward. Her hands flew across the control panel, preparing for manual flight mode. Resting her hands on both flight controls, she sat and waited.

“Ten seconds,” said Chavel. The bridge started to vibrate. The montage of greys in the view screens began to flicker and change colour, as the ship began to emerge from the cloak of the
space
-time distortion. The stars appeared and the flicker of the FTL ring became more visible at it slowed down. The vibrations on the bridge continued as the braking mechanisms for the ring kicked in and slowed it down to an eventual stop. Boyett looked out at the star field. Her eyes flickered quickly from her sensor readings to the view screens.

“Status?” Barrington asked.

“We have
re
-entered normal space, sir. No indication of any asteroidal bodies. Scanning nearby systems.”

“Status of hull breach?” he asked

“Sections
twenty
-two and
twenty
-three are exposed to space, sir.”

“Casualties?” said Barrington.

“Unknown yet, sir,” said Chavel.

“Any damage to the FTL ring?” he said.

“No, sir, none that is registering on any systems up here. It seems to have been unaffected,” said Chavel.

“Stow the FTL ring, Lieutenant,” he said.

“Yes, sir. Locking FTL ring at one eight zero.” The FTL ring aligned itself with the axis of the ship and slotted nicely into place, turning the ship back into its sleek disk shape.

“Engine room, this is Barrington. What the hell happened?”

“Sir, we are just looking into it,” came Landon Emerson’s voice. “Looks like we have a hull breach on deck three. That much is confirmed. Good thing it didn’t hit the FTL ring or we would all have been liquefied.”

“Landon, how could we get a hull breach in hyperspace? Was this internal?” asked Barrington.

“Starting to look that way. Maybe a power conduit blew out. There are distribution nodes that flow through that deck. I would like to EVA with a team to check it out.”

“Granted,” Barrington said. He looked at Boyett.

“Charly, you go with them.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, locking her control panel.

“Chavel, take flight.” The young man took Charly’s seat and tapped in his access code.

“Emerson, I’m sending Lieutenant Boyett down to join your team. Keep an open comm link with the bridge and bring a visual recorder.”

“Understood,” Emerson said as the comms clicked off.

“Barrington to medical bay,” he said.

“Brubaker here,” came a frantic voice.

“Injuries, Doctor?”

“Mostly cuts and bruises, John. Some broken bones, nothing serious. I have reports that some crewmembers are missing, Captain. Carrie came in with Sam Reynolds. She had a minor concussion, but she’s fine. I’m treating her.” Barrington looked at Chavel, whose head had turned to listen when her name was mentioned.

“Keep me apprised, Doctor. Bridge out.” There was silence on the bridge as Barrington tried to assess the situation. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. Crewmembers waited to hear what he would do next.

“Okay, let’s find out where the hell we are, shall we? David, start scanning any nearby star systems.” He tapped his comms pad.

“Bridge to Doctor Tyrell.” No answer. Barrington pressed the
ship
-wide open comm link.

“Barrington to Doctor Tyrell, please contact the bridge.”

He waited.

“Bridge, this it Tyrell,” he said after a minute. There were loud electrical sounds in the background.

“Tyrell, where are you?”

“Deck three, Captain.” Barrington furrowed his brow.

“Are you all right, Doctor?”

“Barely,” came the reply.

“Are you in any danger?” said Barrington.

“No, John, I’m just catching my breath. The bulkheads came down in the nick of time.”

“Are you able to come to the bridge?” Barrington added.

“Of course. I would like to check on my lab first, if that’s all right? To see if there were any containment breaches.” Barrington suddenly realised what he meant by that. The Black.

“Please do that, Doctor. Do you know how many there were in that section of deck three?” he said.