Odyssey One 5: Warrior King (6 page)

Eric smiled. “So maybe they have some evidence now?”

“Maybe. However, it’s still circumstantial. Right now we only have two correlating data points with no causal link as of yet,” Miram said, “and in all the years since we mapped the human genome, and the genome of countless other animals on Earth, we’ve found no sign of any tinkering. If someone had come along a hundred thousand years ago and decided to elevate us, we’d find evidence of it, sir.”

“Certain of that?”

“Yes sir,” Miram said.

“That just means someone did it earlier,” Eric said, “
much
earlier.”

Miram considered that for a moment. “It would have to be . . . seven million years ago, or more, Captain? The half-life of DNA is a little over five hundred years . . . total obliteration is in a maximum of almost seven million years.”

“So if someone wanted to elevate us, and do it without a trace, they’d have to have done it over seven million years ago,” Eric said.

Miram pursed her lips. “In theory, yes, sir.”

Eric shook his head. “That’s a long time to wait for a plan to come to fruition.”

“And it doesn’t explain the Priminae not having any early history,” Miram said.

“Don’t I know it,” Eric replied. “Which leaves me back at square one.”

“Why the sudden interest, if I might ask, Captain?”

“I told you, Commander,” Eric said, “something just doesn’t sit right about the Priminae.”

She looked at him evenly for a long time, then slowly nodded. “Aye aye, sir.”

Eric turned back to his research and stared for a moment before saving the search to his personal folder and flicking the display back over to the navigation telemetry for the ship.

He’d try to figure out Central and Gaia another time. Right now, they had a real mission to work on.

Three hours later, the
Odysseus
vanished from Ranquil space in a burst of tachyon particles.

CHAPTER 6

► The
Odysseus
, an hour out of transition, dropped in a shallow dive through the outer gravity well of the target system. Eric was standing on the observation deck, forward of the ship. The
Odysseus
had several decks that were open to visible light from the outside, all heavily armored, of course, though the decks were triple sealed with blast doors in case of hull breach.

The view, at the moment, was pretty spectacular. The
Odysseus
, while under warp drive, gathered high-energy particles in the dip of space-time that the ship “fell” into while under drive. The artificial gravity well captured stray particles, dropping them into a sharp orbit that spun them around in front of the ship as it moved.

Normally these particles were invisible to the naked eye, plus the gravity gradient was more than steep enough to capture visible light. However, while the ship was under power, the combination of the gravity warp and the occasional glimmer of escaping light as particles slammed into one another in the makeshift accelerator made for a truly impressive view.

The computer could reverse the warping, clean up the resulting picture, and present a true space picture of the system beyond, but right now Eric just wanted to enjoy the view.

“Hey boss. Nice digs.”

Eric glanced over to Steph, who was dropping into a seat at a nearby table, and nodded absently. “Yeah. I think I miss the zero-grav lounge on the
Odyssey
though.”

Steph shrugged. “That was a pretty sweet view, I’ll admit. I rather like being able to drink my coffee from a real cup while I enjoy this one though.”

Eric tipped his head, acceding the point as Steph lifted his mug. Eric walked back and took a seat across from Steph, who slid a second mug across the table. “So what do you want?”

“Boss, I’m hurt,” Steph replied with a dramatic look, “but now that you mention it . . .”

“Just get on with it.”

“I’ve already put the request through. It’s in the chain, but I figured I’d run it past you personally,” Steph said. “Lieutenant Chans wants to qualify on a shuttle. She’s got hours on the stick, just needs a final tagalong before she can do her solo.”

Eric raised an eyebrow. “You want to do that out here?”

“Sure. Once scans clear the system, we can do a drop and cut through it. Meet up with you on the other side.”

Eric thought about for a moment. “Alright, you’re cleared.”

“Thanks,” Steph said.

“But
not
until we clear the system.” Eric held up his hand. “The shuttle isn’t exactly armed.”

“Well, I could take her out in your Angel, boss.” Steph grinned, then held up his hands when Eric shot him a dark look. “Or not.”

“Even if she were spaceworthy, I don’t think even you could fudge the flight record enough to give the lieutenant her quals on a shuttle.” Eric paused, eyeing his junior officer with a suddenly sly look. “Not to mention that it’s a single-seater . . . Unless that’s what you were going for?”

“Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa . . .” Steph threw up both hands again. “Not with another officer on the same ship! I learn my lessons, boss!”

“You better,” Eric said sourly. “You almost got us fragged with that lovers’ spat between you and the dispatcher on the
Reagan
.”

“Swear to God, boss, not happening here.”

Eric looked the younger man over before nodding slowly. “Right. Well, you’re still cleared. Just wait for us to finish deep system scans. If we see even a sign of active Drasin presence, or anything else . . .”

“Got it, boss. System becomes a no-go zone.”

“If we see Drasin signs, the system becomes a war zone.”

►►►

► Long-range scanning across planetary distances took time, no matter what sort of systems you used. Tachyon-based detection was technically instantaneous, but it was
very
precise. That was a good thing if you knew what you were looking for and where it was, but if you didn’t, it would take years to scan a system that way.

Light-speed-based systems took longer, and you didn’t get real-time information, but they had a far superior range of resolution and you could scan
enormous
swaths of the sky very, very quickly.

As soon as the
Odysseus
had transitioned into the system, the crew had begun compiling light-speed images of everything around them. Priminae technology made that somewhat easier than it had been with the
Odyssey
’s reflected sensor sails. The warp field in front of the
Odysseus
bent light, thus functioning as a gathering system far larger than its actual physical size.

The crew had to adjust for interference, naturally, but since that was predictable given the drive system the
Odysseus
used, they had pretty decent resolution.

The entire system couldn’t be scanned in minute detail in anything less than several years, but for the most part that wasn’t needed anyway. First the astrometrics people just located all the large bodies visually and by their gravity effect. If everything worked out and there were no gravity anomalies, it was a fair bet that there were no active warp fields in the system.

While that was happening, the radio frequency systems threw their entire feed over to the computer for pattern recognition, looking for any signs of broadcasting. Similarly, the tachyon scanners started looking for interplanetary-range FTL signals, and the rapidly assembling visual images of the system were pored over for anything that looked out of the ordinary.

This was one of the Priminae’s outer colony worlds, and one of the first hit by the Drasin, so the scanners quickly found minor anomalies that brought their focus to the fourth world in the system. It was now a dead and crumbling mass of former Drasin drones, but none of them were remotely active, so the teams in charge of the system evaluation tagged the world’s orbit and moved on.

Other than that one world, the system was largely unimpressive. The star was a red giant, and most of the planets were barren or gas giants, though there were hints of organic chemicals in the atmosphere of the fifth world. This was tagged as an item of interest and set aside.

Hyperspectral scanners were useful for long-range analysis of such things, basically breaking down the incoming light that had passed through a planet’s atmosphere, or reflected off an interesting surface, and working out what wavelengths had been absorbed. Certain compounds absorbed very specific wavelengths of light, and so from light-minutes—or even light-years—away, it was possible to very neatly identify what exactly you were looking at on a molecular level, if nothing else.

After three hours of skirting the system, nothing unexpected came back. The
Odysseus
came down from general quarters and settled in to complete the survey in a more relaxed manner.

►►►

► Milla Chans stepped up the plank into the large shuttle, tapping on the aluminum ribbing. “Stephan? Are you in here?”

Steph appeared from the front lock. “Hey Milla. I see you got the word.”

“The system has been cleared, yes?”

“That’s what the official card said,” Steph told her. “Captain cleared us for a test flight, so we’re going to drop deeper into the system, sling around the fifth planet, and meet the
Odysseus
around the elliptic in two days. Works?”

“Yes. Works.”

“Good. Preflight.”

Milla nodded and moved forward, slipping past Steph and through the lock into the forward cockpit. He had signed out a Marine shuttle for the test flight, unarmed and stripped down for fast landing and even faster dustoff.

He would have preferred one of the armed versions, just as a matter of principal, but Major McAllistair had something to say about that. The Marine in charge of the
Odysseus
’ contingent was as much a stickler for procedure as Eric had ever been at his worst, and while he might have to sign out a shuttle at the request of the ship’s chief helmsman, giving a Navy flyboy weapons wasn’t something the major was willing to do.

Steph ducked back through the lock, watching as Milla slipped into the pilot’s seat with just a little trepidation. He sealed and dogged the hatch, securing the cockpit before he dropped into the copilot’s seat and pulled the straps down over his shoulders.

“So, checklist?” he asked, glancing over.

“Yes sir. All systems read as green,” she told him, flipping a switch. “Lifting access ramp. Seals are green, Commander.”

“Good. Next?”

Milla blinked. “Call for clearance?”

Steph just stared at her.

Milla looked around, trying to figure out what she’d missed. “What?”

“Well?” Steph waved at the windows.

“I don’t—oh!” Milla’s hand went to her earpiece. “
Odysseus
Control, Marine lander shuttle
Eagle One
. . .
Eagle
Actual speaking.”

“Go for Control,
Eagle One
.”

“
Eagle One
requests clearance for departure.”

“Roger
Eagle One
, you have clearance on cat nine. Confirm.”

“Cat nine, confirmed.
Eagle One
, under power.”

“Roger that.”

Milla set three dials, then flipped a bank of switches before taking the stick and throttle. The shuttle shuddered slightly before it started to move. She steered it around, following the directions of the deck crew as they waved her to catapult nine.

Steph settled back, watching the process as the shuttle stuttered to a halt on the catapult square.

The Priminae didn’t use catapult launchers. Their shuttles didn’t need them, and frankly, they wouldn’t have any idea of how to use one. Steph had been part of the discussion when the admiral had demanded having them installed. It had been an interesting talk.

The
Odyssey
had used an electromagnetic launcher, but the
Odysseus
worked with a gravity launcher. Once the shuttle was hooked up, a process done entirely with software, the deck crew cleared out.

“
Eagle One
, stand by.”

Milla sent confirmation, opening the comm at the same time. “
Eagle One
, standing by.”

Stephen checked his restraints, though he doubted he’d need them. Unlike a last-generation cat, if they felt any acceleration, the odds were it would be the last thing they’d ever feel.

Milla checked the systems again, making sure everything was still green.

“
Eagle One
,
Odysseus
Control.”

“Roger, Control,” Milla said. “Go for
Eagle One
.”

“You are cleared to put power to your CM system,
Eagle One
.”

“CM,” she replied, pronouncing the letters carefully, as she flipped another bank of switches. “Activated. Powering now.”

The shuttle lifted on its wheels as the counter-mass system shunted a majority of the craft’s mass and inertia out of this dimension, away from normal space.

“CM fully powered, Control.”

“Roger that,
Eagle One
. Stand by to launch.”

An alarm went off outside and the deck crew emptied out of sight, other than a half-dozen in full vacuum suits.

“
Eagle One
, standing by.”

The comm clicked off and Milla sighed, turning her head to look at Steph.

“There is so much repetition,” she said wearily. “It is tiring, no?”

“That’s how we make certain everyone knows precisely what everyone else is thinking,” Steph said, half smiling. “It’s boring, but clarity keeps people breathing.”

“We have no such procedures,” she admitted, “and people do not stop breathing often on a Priminae vessel, Stephan.”

“How many flights does a Priminae ship launch in, say, an hour?”

“Not many,” Milla said. “Likely less than one, if you wish to average them.”

“A carrier on full operation can launch and trap between eighty and a hundred and twenty flights an hour at peak operation, with as many as two hundred people on the decks while they’re in use,” Steph said. “One mistake in that kind of a crowd can kill dozens easily.”