Islands in the Void
Chapter 1
Encounter
Earth Date: 08/08/2292, Time: 12:59
Evolution Fulfillment Ship’s Time: 15:59
Voyage Hour: 174,976
Current Length of Day Cycle: 30 hours
Voyage Day: 6,088
LOCATION: Evolution Fulfillment, Ring 04, Council Room
Certainties.
Unknowns.
Questions.
Concerns.
Doubts.
Plans of action, racing through the Captain’s mind, a myriad of thoughts mixing together, but only 1 course of action stands out in this moment. Time in the real world is not in abundance. There is no painless option. The Captain’s mind is focused on the emergency at hand.
The Captain is good at estimations, yet at this moment, for the first time, the Captain is truly concerned, although no one will be able to tell how much.
How will I deal with this? How will the Ship’s Council react to this? With true concern the Captain makes the decision, and in an instant thoughts become action.
All the Ship’s Councilmembers are working at different locations around the spacecraft. In the same moment, adjacent to each Councilmember, a soft tone, just slightly above a whisper, a sound that everyone knows will be followed by an emergency message from the Captain; a sound familiar, heard in countless drills, although this time it is not a drill, and strangely the tones are just loud enough that only that Councilmember can hear, and then is followed by the Captain’s softly spoken voice.
The following printed message of the Captain’s verbal message appears on a surface adjacent to each Ship’s Councilmember in small print, individualized in such a way as to not be seen by any other crewmembers.
EMERGENCY MEETING!
THIS IS NOT A DRILL!
ALL SHIP’S COUNCILMEMBERS REPORT TO COUNCIL ROOM IMMEDIATELY WITHOUT DELAY!
DO NOT SPEAK TO ANYONE!
Earth Date: 08/08/2292, Time: 01:02
Evolution Fulfillment
Ship’s Time: 16:02
Voyage Hour: 174,976
Current Length of Day Cycle: 30 hours
Voyage Day: 6,088
LOCATION: Evolution Fulfillment, Ring 04, Council Room
Running along the hallway, Councilmember Meg Carp is almost out of breath. This type of request from the Captain is something that has never happened in her many years on this spacecraft. As she hastily jogs the last few meters down the declining hallway, she is the last to enter the circular Council Room, and she immediately feels the anxiety in the room. Looking at the other 7 of her fellow Councilmembers, she can see that their eyes are focused forward and their backs rigid; they’re acting far more formally than normal, ready for the Captain. All is unnaturally quiet—but in their eyes, stress and questions. A few have their arms crossed, others are nervously fidgeting, but all are intensely staring at the view-wall.
The seriousness of the moment is palpable as Meg nods to the other members of the Council. Few nod back, absorbed in their own thoughts; she takes her seat at the crescent moon-shaped conference table in the center of the Council Room and catches her breath.
The stadium-like floor of the Council Room declines in all directions, providing the Ship’s Council a commanding view of the Council Chamber’s 10-meter-high display walls.
Silently, the anxious Ship’s Council awaits the Captain to start the meeting. Some lean forward with elbows on the table; Meg sits upright in her chair, fingers clenching the chair’s arms. The Councilmembers watch the walls go black as the deep, perfectly articulated, female voice of the Captain suddenly pours out over them.
The Captain has a deep voice, like the voice of a loving giant, the voice of authority, unmistakably in charge, yet there is a subtle kindness in it. It’s the voice of a woman with profound life experience, a confident voice that can provide advanced working knowledge in any known subject. Its elocution in every word is so flawlessly delivered in direct relationship to the needs of each aspect of what is being discussed, the circumstances involved, and to whom the communication is directed, that the near-perfect enunciation is hardly noticed, as the information is so easily understood by the receiver. It’s the voice of an individual with a compassionate nature that is measured against Its leadership’s requirements in being the Captain.
“I have asked you all here because I’ve detected an unknown spacecraft approaching. All attempts to communicate so far have been unsuccessful. Here is an outline of the spacecraft; we’ll have a better view of it in a moment.”
On the view-wall, the Councilmembers can see what look to be 2 dark rectangles; in the middle, between these rectangles, is a tube about 1/10 as wide, and about 1/20 the length of each rectangle. On the leading rectangle, sticking off the middle of its leading end, is an identical tube pointing out oddly. The image is poor, with little detail.
“Due to that spacecraft’s distance from our position, it will be a few seconds until it can be clearly viewed. This ship is not at all like Evolution Fulfillment; it is much larger, and is moving at more than 6 times our speed,” the Captain states.
“Look at that! How fascinating! Propulsion and gravity generation must be based on a whole different technology,” exclaims Councilmember Matthew “Matt” Hosakawa. “We’re looking at some major technology breakthroughs! Or it’s …” Matt stuttered, and then, silently, stopped.
“How can anything move …” starts Councilmember Jon Greyton.
His eyes flare wide and he looks around the room, and then he stammers, “... like that?” As he points at the view-wall, he continues. “Technology has clearly been moving forward—they’re really pushing the Bubble of Accelerated Light-Speed Travel, but it can’t have any gravity; no one could live for years on that spacecraft; it has to be unmanned!” He abruptly finishes, looking wide-eyed at his fellow Councilmembers.
“I knew we would see ships like this one day,” interjects Councilmember Dr. Robert Onx, a.k.a. Dr. Bob-O, enthusiastically. “I just didn’t think we would see them before we arrive on Ercousin. It must only take them a fraction of the time it has been taking us. With this new technology, other missions leaving after us may already be on Ercousin! I expect there must be many other ships like this one en route as well.
“This spacecraft must have new information of Earth. Captain, as soon as possible, I would very much like to communicate with that ship. We could discover some of what we’ve missed over all these years. We could learn about some of these new technologies. It will be like … jumping into the future.”
The Captain’s voice spills forth from the view-wall again. “I have just completed a preliminary inspection of this approaching spacecraft via telelaserscope. It appears to have severe external damage and there are safety concerns; we will keep our distance. You should also be aware that this spacecraft is 110 degrees off the trajectory to be traveling directly from Earth; there is no clear reason why any spacecraft would have been in the area of space in which this spacecraft has approached us. Also, you should remember, they are not answering my hails.”
There is total silence from the Councilmembers. Dr. Bob-O’s mouth hangs a little open as the ramifications of what the Captain has just said sink in. Meanwhile, each of them is scanning the view-wall with an increased intensity from this new concern.
“When we have a better understanding of our situation, the entire crew should be briefed. Until then, I am going to request that this encounter be kept from the rest of the crew,” states the Captain.
The Councilmembers look at each other and collectively respond, “Yes, Captain.”
“When I first encountered this spacecraft on my sensors, 6 hours before I called you to this meeting, I began studying it and initiated contact. When there was no response, I sent a shuttle containing 3 robots and a probe to make contact. The shuttle will be able to attach itself to that spacecraft, providing it can get close enough to its path to get caught into that spacecraft’s gravity and bond with its momentum.
“I now have a clearer image on the center view-wall. This spacecraft appears to be on a heading to Ercousin. The fact that it is not responding to our hails concerns me.”
Every Councilmember’s attention is fixed on the view-wall; all their bodies lean forward, and their eyes are open and unwavering as the looks of concern on their faces show wrinkles from stress and fear. Previously unnoticed ridges on their foreheads are now obvious. The anxiety inside the Councilmembers is greater than their outward expressions show; this group is simply too professional to show that kind of emotion at this moment.
In the distance, a spacecraft can be made out with the image of the 2 large, grayish rectangles connected together by the shorter, narrower, tubular section.
The image on the view-wall is displaying the approaching darkened spacecraft. The ship’s 2 rectangular sections appear larger and larger as the shuttle grows closer. Every moment, greater detail of the huge, dark spacecraft is revealed. This spacecraft has no external character; its smooth, flat exterior surface is a cold, grayish-black, and its shape a soulless, flat, box-like shape, reminiscent of 2 oversized coffins connected by a cylinder end to end. This spacecraft is large enough to be a home to thousands, yet not a single light emits from its hull. It is visible only through shuttle scans, and the visual interpretations created by the Captain of Evolution Fulfillment for the Ship’s Councilmembers.
“This spacecraft appears to have a different technology base than anything in my database,” the Captain says. “From this distance, not a visible helm, bow, or stern can be identified. It may not have dedicated sections performing functions; indeed, it appears this spacecraft is complex in its propulsion, having functions in dispersed locations.”
The ship’s dark image continues to grow, and details are becoming evident. The visual zooms in with greater depth, expanding out across the entire Council Room’s view-wall.
As the shuttle enters the massive spacecraft’s gravitational pull, it is seamlessly captured in the great spacecraft’s momentum, all the time continuing to send back images. The shuttle effortlessly glides along its massive side, like a bird flying by the edge of the vast, sheer wall of a rock quarry.
The spacecraft’s surface of metal alloy is polished smooth, with only occasional spots of a worn, paint-like coating, visible in some crevices, suggesting something has worn the ship’s exterior down to an oddly polished condition.
From the outside, with no detectable stirring of crewmembers or other signs of habitation so far, the huge spacecraft seems eerily vacant.
Some portions of the frigid, lifeless exterior are highlighted by gaping, exposed holes ringed with charred soot. It appears completely barren, with absolutely no life signs, but showing every indication of having experienced fire and explosions; it appears to be abandoned—a ghost ship.
The Councilmembers continue staring at the view-wall. Subconsciously expelling some nervous tension, Meg’s leg is bouncing rapidly up and down. She looks around the room at her colleagues, but no one will meet her eyes—they are gripped by their focus on the matters at hand.
The shuttle focuses on a spot on the spacecraft with ripped metal skin, as if a catastrophic exit wound. It’s circular in shape, 10 meters across, with jagged edges, like a big dried flower protruding out of the spacecraft’s side—clear evidence of an internal explosion.
“It would seem that a strange, heavily damaged ship with a violent past has crossed our path,” the Captain states with no emotion.
The Council Room remains strangely quiet. Meg’s eyes focus on the image appearing before her. What nightmare could have caused this? In her heart, she knows something terrible has happened, and part of her doesn’t want to know what that is. Her mind wanders.
“It appears that a small war has taken place on this ship,” says the Captain, interrupting her thoughts.
“How do you know? Where is the spacecraft from? Who attacked them?” Meg assaults the Captain machine gun-like with her questions. She remains unnaturally still as she waits for the Captain’s reply.
In a long moment of silence, as the Captain does not respond to the questions, the tension in the room increases. The Captain can sense this.
The Captain’s behavior, and direct disregard of a question by the Ship’s Council, has never been witnessed before. Silently and simultaneously, each member of the Ship’s Council arrives at the same questions: Does the Captain know how to deal with this problem? Does the Captain understand what the ramifications of this problem are likely to be?
Their Captain, for the first time in their institutionalized, protected, highly managed, peaceful lives, is now either hiding something from them or at a loss to share an answer or theory to this unprecedented event. The Captain could be in the dark, just as the Ship’s Council is. Their fears are unspoken but the concern in their eyes unanimous: The irreplaceable Captain’s leadership is an absolute necessity, never failing them; it is almost incomprehensible that the Captain has no answer for them.
The Council Room’s anxiety again ratchets up another notch, and the longer the silence, the greater the level of anxiety as the Council Room inches toward a quiet panic.
Displays on the view-wall are enhanced via the Captain’s ability to interpret visual cues and juxtapose concrete facts with intuition, then display both as fully formed visuals created from the spacecraft’s scanning capabilities in the darkness of space. The Captain can create a complete, lifelike visual image from all the data it has, while extrapolating information that is being observed to create an accurate, cohesive whole.
For example: If a location is being observed and the Captain knows the equipment type and location, an image can be created showing the equipment at that location doing whatever the equipment is doing, even though it isn’t a real image, and the observer would know that the image is the Captain’s real time re-creation. But that image would look real, and it would be accurate to such a degree that, as a re-creation, if there were video of the event, that actual video and the Captain’s real-time reproduction would look identical.
The cultural consequence is that the crew considers the Captain’s real time re-creations and actual video equivalent, without any real thought about the process. It is just accepted.
The shuttle rounds the back of the spacecraft, revealing a massive, flat, rectangular, dark-green, metallic panel, taking up almost all of the rear of the ship.
The Councilmembers look at each other using their peripheral vision. The Captain has still not answered Meg’s questions.
“That is the main engine. It was only a conceptual idea when we left Earth. I am familiar with the theoretical science behind it.” The Captain narrates along with the shuttle pictures on the view-wall.
“That metallic panel is a type of magnetic pulse-engine. It creates thrust through extremely intense microreactions of electrons flowing and colliding in rhythmic patterns, far more intensely than ours can; these engines work on the same principle of creating an incrementally building thrust that, over time, pushes the spacecraft faster and faster, the same as our engines do, but these engines appears to be profoundly more advanced and at least 6 times more powerful. I would expect smaller high-powered electron pulse-engines to be at many locations around the spacecraft in order to slow and turn.
“The engine appears to be off; most likely it is in a conservation mode, but the ship is definitely maintaining a heading to Ercousin and traveling at approximately 6 times our speed,” says the Captain.
“What savaged this ship?” asks Dr. Bob Onx, posing the question everyone wants to know the answer to but no one wanted to ask, especially after the Captain ignored Meg’s similar question.
Again, a surprising moment of silence as the Captain, still, unexpectedly and again completely out of character, doesn’t respond to the question.
On the view-wall, the shuttle now moves up the far side of the spacecraft, gliding up close enough to identify what appear to be 2 small windows on the outside, worn as if polished by sand. There is a covering of soot on the inside of the first window, which makes it impossible to see inside. The shuttle moves 30 meters farther, down to the 2nd window, which is also scoured on the outside and covered with soot on the inside.
As the Councilmembers glance at each other, fidget, and shift in their seats, the soft sound of clothing rustling can be heard, almost enhancing the silence of the non-answering Captain.
A few minutes later, the shuttle momentarily slows in front of a hole in the side of the spacecraft about 4 meters across. More jagged metal stretches outward, obvious evidence of another explosion having taken place inside the ship. Debris is piled tight on the inside, jamming up the hole, preventing any view of the interior of the spacecraft at that location. The pause is brief; the shuttle continues on at speed.
Skimming across the vast surface of this monstrously large spacecraft, with its stark flatness, empty of character, minutes pass as the shuttle zips over a sea of flat, polished metal. Then, suddenly, the shuttle drops a sharp 90 degrees, dipping fast and down into a chasm at the space between the 2 sections of the ship.
The Council Room is along for the ride as the view-wall expands out farther, giving the Council a 180-degree view of the shuttle’s video feedback, as the visual of the 2 walls of metal race by on both sides of the Council Room’s peripheral walls.
The Councilmembers are gripped by the video as the racing shuttle approaches the connecting tube in the center of the 2 halves of this enormous spacecraft.
On the trailing end of the forward section of the spacecraft, there are 2 massive rectangles of a dark-green, metallic surface above and below the connecting tube, each the same length, but only 1/3 the width of the panel on the rear section of the ship.
“Those 2 green metallic panels are also magnetic pulse-engines. It appears this forward section of the ship is capable of separating from the other section.
“In this spacecraft’s current configuration, these engines could not function. These engines would only be used if or when this section of the spacecraft was separated from the back portion.”
A fearful quiet oozes over the Council Chamber as members silently stare at the view-wall.
The shuttle’s display now shows the far side of the connecting tube that holds the 2 sections of the spacecraft together. The shuttle has been exploring the outside of the trailing half of the ship, and on this half a large rectangle-shaped opening is now visible. The shuttle comes to a stop in front of this large room, which is open to the outside of the spacecraft.
On the view-wall, the Ship’s Council can see the shuttle bay’s walls are so melted that they are barely identifiable. A charred skeleton of some type of shuttle sits on the far right side.
“This appears to be the main shuttle docking bay,” states the Captain. “It is 70 meters wide and 10 meters high, and runs deep into the spacecraft. Here in this shuttle bay, much of the ship’s exterior is missing, presumably removed by an internal explosion.”
The shuttle moves into the shuttle bay, hovering slowly near the black, burned-out hulk of the former shuttle to get a comprehensive look at the spacecraft’s interior. Melted walls that look like overflowing wax from giant, muddy, black candles, whose flames have long gone cold, leaving frozen wax that once dripped down their sides, still and silent, are now fixed in place from that violent moment.
“The surface melted as the result of an explosion. An ensuing fire, fed by the ship’s hot, compressed air racing out into the shuttle bay, turned the whole area into a furnace,” says the Captain.
“Melted materials oozed both up and down walls, toward the spacecraft’s interior floors, where we can see clear evidence that artificial gravity is generated,” the Captain continues. “In the coldness of space, everything from that moment is solidified in place.”
“How do they generate gravity?” asks Matt Hosakawa.
“I do not have that knowledge,” the Captain responds.
The Councilmembers are silent; the Captain has stated that she does not have an answer and doesn’t even offer a theory. Fearful thoughts run through the Councilmembers’ heads; some of their hands are clenched on chair arms, their knuckles stretched white. Their Captain’s world of management is showing them its flaws for the very first time, and at a very critical time.
The pattern of melted material stretches out across the walls and accumulates at the base of the floors in large, lava-like, overlapping lumps, while more melted material located 3 meters and more up above the floors has stretched thinner and thinner, running up walls to the respective opposing ceiling, where again it becomes thicker, piling up in stalagmite-like formations on that ceiling, just as it has done on the floor below. It makes for an odd-looking structure adhered to the inside of the docking bay as hundreds of pairs of these double-opposing stalagmites of melted material meet, forming combinations of columns that ring the walls of the entire bay like a huge, monstrous mouth.
A pattern is clearly shown.
“What caused this shape? Why does it look like that?” questions Councilmember Edward Singh.
“Gravity is the greatest in the first 3 meters out from both sides of the floor, then dramatically decreases in a 2-meter mid-zone between opposing floors, then increases again as the upper floor is approached. The spacecraft has been designed to take advantage of the gravitational qualities of its flooring, using the flooring’s gravitational force on both sides of each floor, consequently maximizing the greatest efficiencies of interior space,” states the Captain.
“It appears the nonstructural support areas of the ship’s interior are walls made of lightweight, composite materials. These double stalagmite combinations were caused when the material anchored to opposite floors melted and stretched out to opposing gravity fields.
“Look behind the burnt area, to the farthest visible area into the spacecraft, and you can see that a bit of the opposing floor spaces are still somewhat intact.”
A new image appears, zooming deep into the spacecraft, giving the Council a clear view into part of the interior.
“Look at the interior. There are no ceilings; both sides of each gravity-producing floor are workspaces. Those floors are inverted and opposing. There are about 8 meters of distance between inverted floors. If you looked up, you would see the heads of the people walking on the ceiling/floor above you,” finishes the Captain.
“How did they do that?” asserts Councilmember Ed Singh.
“The theory of this gravity-producing technology is unknown to me,” the Captain responds. “I do not know how they are generating gravity, but the process of generating gravity on this ship appears to continue in full effect.
“It’s highly likely that the ship’s emergency bulkheads are sealed shut in all areas leading to this damaged shuttle bay.”
On the view-wall, the shuttle moves on, crossing over the vast gap between the 2 halves, arriving at the rear leading section of the spacecraft, and begins to find less damaged areas.
For many minutes, the shuttle travels along inside the gap between these two sections of the spacecraft and then forward completely across the leading section of this vast spacecraft’s side; it rounds the corner to the front of the ship, and after many minutes it pauses in front of what appears to be another connection tube reaching out to nothing—the shuttle is now at the leading edge of the massive spacecraft.
“This connection tube has been damaged by an explosion. The bulkhead behind it is sealed shut; there is no simple access to this spacecraft here. Clearly something was attached to this tube, presumably another section of the ship,” says the Captain.
Pointing at the view-wall, Meg says, “Soot can be seen from multiple locations on the flat surface of the tube. Something terrible happened on the other side of this wall.” The other Councilmembers nod in agreement.
For over an hour they watch as the shuttle continues to study and circle the outside of the spacecraft, searching for an ideal entry point.
“We are still unable to establish communications with this ship,” relays the Captain. “I’m unable to detect any life signs. Severe damage is clearly detectable in numerous locations on the spacecraft’s hull.
“Although much of the ship appears undamaged, the best way to find out what happened will be from the inside. The most desirable location for docking is in the shuttle bay, but it is too badly damaged. I was not able to find any type of exterior entry point that could be operated from the outside. With these primary access areas unavailable, the shuttle will proceed with its back-up plan. We will need to make entry. The probe will enter the spacecraft first, and hopefully contact the crew.
“If that is, as I suspect, not possible, the probe will attempt to interface with the Ship’s Captain to find out what the status is, and assist entry for the robots waiting on the shuttle. Once this is accomplished, the probe will quickly map out the spacecraft and locate important areas for further inspection by the robots. The probe’s secondary mission, if necessary, will be to collect as much information as possible about this spacecraft. If this ship has anything like ship’s logs, or some kind of black box, the probe, if possible, will send back as much information as it can retrieve. I can attempt to decipher it and forward it to Earth at a later time.
“We will also investigate what the status of that spacecraft is by using 3 of our robots, in order to discover what went wrong. The robots will be able to physically dig through to places a probe may not be able to access.”
“Do you think we might want to send an investigation team?” Councilmember Ed Singh asks the Captain.
“I will not take unnecessary risks with humans. S.A.L.P.A.C.-controlled robots are better suited for this mission. I’m only going to send what is expendable, and robots will be able to spend more time on the ship.
“I have many concerns about this approaching spacecraft. I cannot be certain if even sub-basic life-support systems are up and running. My expectation is that the ingredients for breathable air will not be available for purification and use. Due to possible extreme freezing temperatures, the robots may need to spend 100% of their working time suited up in space-walk-level protection. This is not a realistic, long-term situation for humans.”
Softly, a few of the Councilmembers gasp; there is not another sound in the room.
End of Chapter One
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