TEN
Iarrey was right. Three hours later, which they’d spent doing nothing, the crew saw one of the domes on the upper part of the hull expanding like a soap bubble. The surface did not change color as previously—the dome was simply growing upwards, although its circumference hadn’t increased by even a fraction of an inch. It took exactly a minute until a circular opening with a diameter of well over thirty feet suddenly appeared at the top of the protuberance.
“Send the cameras inside!” Morrisey ordered excitedly.
The closest robots moved toward the opening and soon after three of them disappeared over its curved edge.
“Visuals!” the captain ordered.
“No readings,” Annataly reported. “The ship’s sheathing completely blocks out our frequencies.”
“Position one robot above the opening; we’ll use it as a relay,” Iarrey advised. “If necessary, we’ll make an entire chain of relays, using the other robots. We have several hundred more onboard.”
“Good idea, First Officer …” The captain raised his electronic prosthesis above the chair’s armrest in a victory gesture.
Ten seconds later, on the screens they had a visual of a huge hall beneath the dome. The entire chamber was dark, only illuminated here and there by dim fluorescent light emanating from the fungi-like growths distributed at regular intervals over the spherical wall. The glow allowed them to discern the position of the “fungi,” but did not dispel the darkness even in their proximity. However, it wasn’t a problem for the cutting-edge night vision systems, which the Nomad’s reconnaissance robots were equipped with. The machines decoded the radar and infrared signals and changed them into a normal image, simultaneously creating a holographic model of the object under examination.
The chamber, now that the dome had risen, was shaped like a slightly flattened sphere. In its lower part there could be seen many strange constructions covering the curved wall, and clusters of phosphorescent “fungi” distributed around them. The robots’ sensors had also discovered over a dozen openings of different sizes. Morrisey ordered the smallest probes to be sent into them, but it rapidly transpired that the corridors were too narrow or too winding and even worse, they blocked the transmission, thus not permitting direct contact with the probes. The first officer suggested examining them one by one, by means of a chain of probes functioning as relays. The crew left it until later, however. They had something much more interesting to look at.
A cylindrical installation, which may have served the ship’s crew as turret mooring system, rose up from the lowest part of the spherical hall. It was divided into six segments of more or less the same length. Every one of them had six tubular projections with a lock at the end: the lower the segment, the longer the arms of the projections, to which small vessels were moored; their function could only be guessed at.
“What about that?” Morrisey asked, after they’d had a thorough look.
“I’d say we’ve found their hangar,” Annataly volunteered.
“Yes,” Iarrey agreed. “Clearly, their ship has implemented emergency procedures. The loss of power endangering the life support systems ought to result in a standard emergency procedure: evacuation in rescue capsules. In my opinion the spherical projections at the top of the mooring turret are capsules of that kind.”
“But,” the navigator added, “there’s no one left onboard who could use them …”
“Let’s hope you’re right.”
“Hope often blinks at a fool, Mr. Bourne.” Morrisey got up from his chair and stretched until his vertebrae popped. “Let’s move it. Iarrey, check all the unoccupied locks, I want to know how they work and if there are any mechanical security systems. We might be able to open one of them, which would be the easiest way to get inside. You have my permission to try anything as long as you leave no signs of forced entry. Nike and Bourne will help you. Let’s reconvene in three hours, and you’d better have some hard facts. And you, honey, come with me. We have to talk …”
Davidoff-Rozerer nodded and walked toward the door without a word. Morrisey chivalrously allowed the woman through first, only to then slap her lecherously on her rear. The soft hiss of the closing door cut off the navigator’s giggle. A silence fell on the bridge, punctuated by the beeping of the electronic devices.
“Right,” Iarrey muttered, looking at Bourne’s screwed-up face. “The old man’s gone off for an in-depth conversation with Annataly, and meanwhile we have to do the ‘open sesame’ drill.”
“Three hours isn’t much considering the magnitude of the task,” complained Bourne.
“And what does our whiz kid think about all this?” The first officer’s smile was utterly sincere. Neither could a trace of irony be detected in his voice.
“Doesn’t it strike you as curious,” Nike asked, “that the alien ship’s started evacuation procedures even though there isn’t a living soul onboard?”
Iarrey’s face darkened. The first officer frowned, and began picking at the day-old stubble and nervously chewing his lower lip.
“You know, Nike, you’re damn right … I’ve tried to recall what procedures apply in the Federation Fleet in situations like this. The central computer has to monitor the whole lot of processes, including life support systems. If it has no contact with a living member of the crew, though, it would never initiate evacuation procedures.”
“It seemed very suspicious to me also,” Bourne interjected, looking concerned.
“On the other hand,” Heraclesteban continued, “we really don’t know what made that ship open one of its hatches. Perhaps it has nothing to do with evacuation. Or perhaps after such a long time the machinery’s clapped out and not in control anymore, or the Aliens have other procedures than we do … We’ll get a chance to think about all that when we get inside and investigate this frigging crate.”
First they checked the unoccupied locks in the turret’s upper section. It looked as though they were constructed similarly to those found on any Earthian spaceship. Unfortunately, all were shut fast, and they couldn’t see any panels, controls, or handles on the smooth surface of the metal. Nothing at all that would have caused the opening of the locks’ exterior hatches. Later they checked in turn the remaining sections where they had noticed unoccupied docking bays.
While Bourne and Iarrey were analyzing the construction of the locks, Nike supervised the work of six rootlers and drew up a detailed 3D plan of the “hangar,” as they had christened the hall. He also examined some corridors they had discovered, but after checking three he was certain he was on the wrong track. All of them had been tightly locked, which did not surprise him. There was no air beneath the dome, and if the corridors had been connected to the ship’s interior, they would have automatically sucked every single atom of gas from its chambers. So Nike left the laborious introduction of the robots to various tunnels until the very end and began scanning the lowest part of the hangar. And here he found a surprise waiting for him.
“Gentlemen,” he called the two officers.
Iarrey didn’t react; Bourne, however, went over to the cadet at once.
“I hope it’s something interesting,” he muttered, wiping sweat off his forehead. They hadn’t lowered the temperature on the bridge, even though Morrisey was long gone.
“I think I’ve found a solution to our problem …” Nike switched vision from the first robot’s cameras to the main screen. “Here you go …”
The lieutenant first looked at the turret’s base, nestling among a tangle of pipes and curious installations of unknown origin, and then at the young man grinning from ear to ear.
“Well, what is it?” he asked uncertainly.
“Don’t you see anything unusual?” Nike was genuinely astonished.
“To tell you the truth, I can’t see anything but a heap of garbage.”
A smile appeared again on the cadet’s face.
“Doesn’t that look familiar?” He pointed at one of the elements lying at the bottom.
Bourne squinted and pulled the virtual keyboard toward him. He carried out the same series of comparative analyzes that Nike had completed a moment earlier. And with exactly the same results.
“Would you mind coming over, Iarrey?” he asked, when the last pair of images had merged into one.
This time, the first officer dragged himself away from what he was doing. He walked over to them and had a look at the results of Bourne’s work.
“My congratulations, son,” he said appreciatively, and slapped the young cadet on the back.
“As you can see, sir, we’ll be able to get onboard stealthily,” Iarrey announced.
Morrisey looked in astonishment at the robot visible through one of the windows located in the corridor leading to the mooring turret.
“How did you get it in there?” asked the captain finally.
“All credit goes to our young friend here, sir,” Iarrey answered, pointing at Nike. “Let him say.”
“Come on then, son …” Morrisey turned his chair toward the cadet.
Straight as a ramrod, Nike faced the commanding officer bravely.
“While I was putting together the scans for the hologram, I found a damaged rescue capsule with an open hatch at the bottom of the mooring turret. It must have come loose during the crash. Close scrutiny showed that the docking mechanisms are equipped with mechanical protection systems only. We used a few small antigravs and lifted the capsule up to the first unoccupied docking bay. After fitting the docking ring into the collar, the turret lock opened automatically. The robot, which had previously been put into the capsule, got inside, and we moved the capsule away, simulating a launch. The external lock closed automatically, but the other door was open.”
“Here’s the analysis of the composition of the atmosphere inside the alien ship.” Iarrey handed his reader to the captain.
“Doesn’t seem to differ much from the atmosphere on Earth,” Morrisey noticed. “And the analysis of the bacterial flora?”
“We didn’t find anything,” reported Bourne. “The atmosphere seems to be as sterile as the inside of the booze bottle, but despite that and the similarities in the composition I wouldn’t recommend unsealing our suits even in critical situations.”
“No one’s suggesting that.” Morrisey thought for a moment. “The data you’ve gathered show clearly that the Aliens needed oxygen, just like we do. So we can conclude we’re dealing with a protein-based life form.”
“Possibly,” Iarrey agreed. “Judging from the size of the hatches, controls, and handles, and the chair in the capsule, they’re taller than us and more massively built. They might even be ten feet tall. While we’re on the subject, the shape of the seat is interesting …”
A view of the capsule’s interior appeared on the screen. The chair was very long, rounded, almost streamlined, with two vertical grooves in its upper part.
“Any thoughts?”
“Unfortunately not. I’ve got too little data to be more specific, sir. So far we’ve been only operating within the corridor. The robot did reach the lock leading to the turret’s main shaft and moved beyond to take samples of air, but then withdrew immediately. We waited for you before taking any further steps, sir.”
“Excellent.” Morrisey stood up. “Gentlemen, I think it’s time for a small step of a man but a giant leap for mankind. Annataly, you stay here. Someone has to keep watch over us in case of misfortune.”
“Bourne knows his way around this gear much better than I do,” she protested, pointing at the equipment.
The captain quietened her with a gesture.
“Honey …” he muttered, and walked over to her. “You’re the pilot and the only one around here who handles a joystick with such deftness—”
He stopped short on hearing a snort of laughter from Iarrey, but did not turn toward him. “Back off. You’ll have a chance for a trip once the coast is clear. I swear.”