Read Space Trader (Galactic Axia Adventure) Online

Authors: Jim Laughter

Tags: #An ancient mystery, #and an intrepid trader, #missing planets

Space Trader (Galactic Axia Adventure) (28 page)

“And out of curiosity, where are the Red-tail home planets?” the professor asked.

“As of the last mapping which is now centuries out of date, they are here,” Ert answered. The image of the Red-tail galaxy again enlarged to take up the entire projection. Red points of light appeared throughout the galaxy. There were only a few areas without them and those were out among the thinner regions of the Red-tail galaxy.

“So the ship is reasonably far away from the Red-tail concentrations,” the professor observed, noting the pulsing dot showing where the ship was located. It was thankfully far from any of the red dots previously shown. “That’s good!”

“Yes and no,” Ert answered.

“And why is that?”

“Because although it is good that they are safely away from the known Red-tail planets, it also means they are far from any of the Red-tail transit tubes that could bring them back home.”

 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“I’ve got an incoming message!” Lyyle shouted from the control chair. Ian looked up with a start from where he’d been working over one of the extra sensor systems pulled from his equipment store.

The last few hours had been a time of frantic activity onboard the
Cahill Express
, ever since the last signal from Ert had been interrupted in mid-transmission. He’d been sending instructions for further modification of the sensor systems of the ship when the signal dissolved into a crash of static.

Between Ian’s practical proclivities and Lyyle’s engineering ability, they had doped out what Ert wanted them to try. Even some of the trade material Ian had in his storage area was being used. To Ian’s surprise, several of his most unusual curios turned out to be useable components, some of them dating back to the Horicon probes.

“What’ve you got?” Ian shot back as he wiped his hands on a rag.

“It was on that same frequency,” reported Lyyle. “But all I got was a carrier signal and then some sort of distorted modulation.”

“Nice to know he’s still trying,” Ian commented. He pulled a test meter out of a tool bin and hooked up the leads to run a quick check of the connections.

“I got a partial record of the modulation,” Lyyle said. “Want to hear it? Maybe you can make sense of it. I don’t know that much about other civilizations out here.”

“Go ahead,” Ian said as he finished his test. “I hope it isn’t Red-tail.”

Lyyle hit the playback mode. The speakers hummed to life, followed by a rapid chittering sound. Then the signal ended.

“You recognize it?” Lyyle asked. “Sounds like an animal to me.”

“Nope,” admitted Ian. “Try slowing it down. Maybe it was a burst transmission of some sort.”

Lyyle punched the controls. The signal replayed at a much slower speed. In spite of the slower speed, the modulation was still undecipherable.

“Never heard anything like it,” Ian admitted. “Hit the translation circuit. Maybe the computer can make sense of it.”

Lyyle adjusted the equipment but the computer indicated that it could not render any coherent translation.

“Well, that’s that,” Lyyle said after trying the computer one more time. “What do we do now?”

“We continue doing what we can here,” Ian said. He turned back to the equipment he’d been working on. “Anything on the long-range sensors?” he asked as he powered up a signal tracer.

“Nothing,” Lyyle said. “Which I guess is good.”

“You better hope so.”

“But we have the Optiveil,” Lyyle protested. “They can’t see us, so we’re safe.”

“Only as long as it keeps working.”

“But it’s reliable!” objected the Vogel scientist. “It’s been keeping Vogel safe for generations.”

“Yes, but that’s with many backups. Out here we don’t have that luxury. And you of all people should know that any machine will eventually fail. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I’ll keep it going!” Lyyle stated firmly.

“You better,” Ian shot back, turning back to the equipment. “Give me a hand with this. I want to get this hooked in so we can test it.”

“All right,” Lyyle said disgustedly.

Pushing himself up from the control chair, Lyyle went back to the workbench where Ian had the equipment spread out.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Take the signal tracer there…” A blaring alarm cut their discussion short.

In one fluid movement, Ian dove for the control chair. Lyyle jumped for the auxiliary console and buckled in. “What’ve you got?” he shouted.

“We have some sort of disturbance off the rear starboard quadrant!” Ian shouted back. He brought the weapons systems up to full ready.

“Got a lock on it!” Lyyle snapped. “But all I detect is something twisting in the ether!”

“Swinging us around,” Ian reported. He maneuvered the
Express
into position.

As the veiled ship swung around, both men could see a swirling in space a few hundred yards from the front of the ship.

“There’s nothing on my detectors!” Ian exclaimed as he started backing the
Express
away from the disturbance.

“Signal coming in!” Lyyle shouted. “It’s Ert!” he added, confirming the signature of the incoming transmission.

“Put it on speakers!”


Cahill Express
,” Ert’s mechanical voice began. “How do you re…” The signal began to fade and crackle.

“Get it back!” shouted Ian.

“All I’m getting is static! There was a brief spurt, then it quit!”

“That disturbance is getting bigger fast!” Ian snapped. “I’m getting us out of here!”

He swung the ship around on an escape tangent and prepared to advance the throttle.

“Wait!” Lyyle shouted. “What about Ert finding us?”

“I want him to find more than scattered atoms!” Ian shot back just as the
Express
started to shoot away.

“There’s something coming through!”

“Another signal?”

“No! It’s some sort of object!”

“Red-tail?” Ian asked as he slowed the ship. A spin of the axis ball brought the
Express
back around to face the disturbance.

“No,” said Lyyle breathlessly. “It’s too small! Should be visible now!”

Out in front of the ship the swirling ether contracted and then expelled some sort of object.

“What is it?” Lyyle asked as Ian started targeting the object.

“I don’t know,” Ian answered through clenched teeth. “I can barely get a sensor lock on it. I’m going visual.”

He swung the optic site into place. “I’m going to put it on the auxiliary screen. See what you can do with it.”

“Got it!” reported Lyyle as he started manipulating the image. On the screen was some sort of Ovid object.

“I can’t identify it!”

“Magnify and put it on the main screen!” ordered Ian. He moved the ship further back from the unidentified object.

“There you go!” Lyyle barked as the image filled the main sensor screen.

“Try to get some sort of sensor sweep of it,” Ian ordered. “If we survive, I want to take this back for some egghead to analyze.”

“I’ve only managed to get a fuzzy reading,” Lyyle reported after a minute. “I’ll use that to enhance the image.”

Slowly at first, but then faster, the image began to clear. The edges became better defined but the main body remained indistinct.

“Can you clear it up?” Ian asked.

“Not unless you get us closer,” Lyyle answered. “It isn’t following us. It’s just hanging there.”

“I got a good visual,” Ian reported from where he was squinting through the optical targeting system. “It looks like a giant walnut!”

“I didn’t want to say it,” Lyyle agreed, “but you’re right. And if I may offer an opinion, it is probably why the sensors are having a hard time locking on it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The curves and irregular nature of the surface will cause most sensors to scatter and not register. Based on that, I would consider the object to be of artificial construction.”

“Quite a deduction,” Ian offered. “I don’t recognize it and I am familiar with most ships flying in Axia space,” he continued, stealing another look at the enhanced image on the screen. “Then again, we’re not in Axia space, are we?”

“Wonder what it is?” Lyyle asked.

Suddenly, the comm emitted a receiver signal. “Incoming again,” Lyyle reported. “Same frequency as before.”

“Put it on speaker,” Ian ordered. The cabin immediately filled with a rapid chittering.

“Same as before,” Lyyle said for both of them.

“It’s a targeted signal,” Ian said from the control chair. “That signal is obviously meant for us.”

“Second signal coming in,” Lyyle reported. “It’s from Ert!”


Cahill Express
,” Ert’s voice began. “Prepare to receive a squirt translation download.”

“Do it!” Ian snapped at Lyyle. The Vogel scientist flipped on the necessary equipment just as the squeal of the incoming signal assaulted their ears.

“Got it!” shouted Lyyle. “Annotating the comm processor now,” he added as he booted in the translation matrix Ert had sent them.

“Run that last noise through it now!” ordered Ian. “That thing is starting to approach us!”

“Human craft,” the stilted voice of the translation circuit squawked over the speaker. “I am here to help. The Horicon you call Ert has directed me here.”

 

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Piaffè surveyed the human ship in front of him. It was much larger than he’d expected. Using the frequency the Horicon had indicated, the young Jibbah tried to contact the humans. After two tries he still had not received a reply. Piaffè was confused.

It had been while Piaffè was headed deep into human-controlled space that he had received new instructions from the Horicon. Changing course, it hadn’t taken Piaffè long to find the small wormhole Ert had directed him to. Diving in had been easy, though it was the first time for the Jibbah pilot to traverse an artificial wormhole. He was thankful for his training on simulators before this mission. It allowed him to perform the dangerous maneuver with greater confidence.

With ease, the small Jibbah scout ship shot through the wormhole, emerging at a location near the edge of the human galaxy. Then Piaffè used a second wormhole to arrive in the dreaded Red-tail galaxy. Although far from the main concentration of Red-tail planets, Piaffè was still apprehensive.

Just as Piaffè was about to signal the human ship again, his comm signaled an incoming message. He placed the equipment to receive the signal. To his relief it was from the Horicon. Ert informed Piaffè that he had downloaded a translation program to the humans. Communications should be possible soon. Piaffè wondered what he would say to these strange creatures.

Then Ert outlined further instructions for the young Jibbah. He was shocked! Although technically possible, he had never seen or heard of such a plan. Even on the simulators there was nothing like what the Horicon was instructing him to do. But the Horicon had anticipated his reaction. Ert assured him that it was not only possible but necessary. Meanwhile confusion also reigned on the human ship.

“Did you check that translation?”

“Sure did,” Lyyle confirmed. “That little thing is here to help us!”

“How?” an astonished Ian asked for both of them.

As if in answer to his rhetorical question, another burst signal came through from the ancient Horicon computer. Both men sat in shock while Ert outlined his plan for their return to the Milky Way galaxy.

The two men waited apprehensively while they watched the airlock. Through the glassite windows, they could see the strange little Jibbah ship. Now they waited for its pilot to come aboard. Ert had all but ordered this meeting. It was necessary, he said, to facilitate their escape from the Red-tail galaxy.

“That’s it. He’s entered through the outer lock,” Lyyle reported from his board.

“Cycling,” Ian said as he remotely ran the airlock system. In seconds, the green light above the inner door lit, indicating that it was safe to open. But nothing happened.

“What’s he waiting for?” Lyyle asked.

“Probably not familiar with our controls,” Ian said as he again used the remote controls of the airlock.

“But even I understood them, having never been on a spacer!” Lyyle exclaimed. “How hard can it be?”

“Opening now,” Ian said. He pressed the switch. The inner door slid aside and the men looked at their visitor, their shocked expressions clear on their faces.

Or more accurately, they looked
down
at their visitor. For there just inside the airlock was the smallest quadrapedal creature they had ever seen in a space suit. Nimbly, it hopped over the doorsill carrying a small device with it.

“I hope that isn’t some sort of weapon,” Lyyle said apprehensively.

“Doubtful, considering that Ert said this race was non-aggressive. Probably some sort of translation device.”

The creature chittered. Immediately the device mechanically translated it into stilted Axia Standard, proving Ian’s theory correct.

“Greetings humans,” the mechanical voice said.

“Greetings,” Ian said for both men. “Why don’t you take your helmet off? Ert said our air is compatible with your physiology.”

“I will perform my own analysis,” the box said for the chittering creature.

“It is now complete,” it added after a second. Setting the device down for a second, the creature reached up with gloved front paws and released its helmet seal. With a twist, it removed the helmet entirely and both men gasped in astonishment.

There before them was a small, striped, space-suited squirrel, or rather what appeared to be a chipmunk. Tiny by comparison, it was a quarter the size of squirrels on human planets, but the species was unmistakable. The white stripes on its face highlighted its large eyes and pointed ears. The fur on its body alternated between brown, gray and black stripes. Its long furry tail rested on the floor, apparently used for balance. It had short forepaws and oversized back feet, again apparent for balance and speed.

“You are alarmed by my appearance?” Piaffè asked through the translation device.

“Yes we are,” Ian admitted after a second. “You resemble one of the small mammals common on human worlds.”

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