Galactica: Book 1 - Via Lactea

 

Thebes maintained a steady pace and continued its progress toward the edge of the Milky Way. Time was spent waking up the Colonists. Things did not always go well as some felt disconnected from their time and had lost members of their family from the first landing on Earth. Those were put into stasis to undergo psychiatric treatment and deal with their losses. Captain Blight was called as witness to the reading of the verdicts of those that had been sentenced and executed already. He was shocked at the effectiveness of the Imperial Court and the extensive use of telepathic testimony, certified by three independent readings and cross-referenced by all six important Artificial Intelligences. He learned that his second in command had used his station for personal gain and vendetta, having innocents condemned for crimes he had committed himself. However ill-tempered the Captain had been, he was appalled by the pettiness of the Man and enraged at having been manipulated so easily.

Harp introduced him to Magic and its numerous uses, telling him his magical core size limited his power level at M-7 with some hard work, but that this was more than sufficient to function in a highly magical society. The Captain had lost his Wife as it gave birth to a still-born baby and had never contemplated settling down after that. He had pursued one-night stands and amorous adventures with no future between his stays in stasis. His ship had become his surrogate Wife, much like many Captains of the old sailing Navy. Captain Blight spent long hours watching the ship move in space, unaware of the passage of time or of people near him. Occasionally, one of his contemporaries, which were few and far between, would come to talk to him about the ‘good old days’, but his lack of response gradually weeded out their numbers until he found himself totally alone.

It had been three months since Blight had even talked to anybody. He had forgotten the name of the last person who had dared bother the old Bear with chit-chat so he was surprised to be called on the lounge speakers to report to the Bridge by a voice he did not recognise. He got up from the comfortable chaise-lounge he had claimed as his in the forward observation deck, finished his honey-beer in a single swing, still wondering why he could now drink a whole barrel without rolling under the table with it as bed companion to wake up with a sledge-hammer in the skull, and made his way to the portal node.

"Bridge!"

He had yet to learn the intricacies of entering a destination by hand, and he just could not understand he did not need to speak for the task to be done. He would have freaked out had he realised that the node read the request in his mind rather than interpret a command.

As he walked in, he saw on the Imperial seat Ian and at the Captain’s chair one of these strange Men with multifaceted eyes and scaly skins. He easily recognised he young Man as the Heir to the Imperial Throne; however, he could not name the golden Man, such was the notion of polymorphism strange to him. What kept shocking him was the total absence of not only uniforms, but of clothes. For a militarily-centred society, this one was totally out of the expected form. Blight had gradually stopped glaring at every nude person he met in the city, but he still expected a minimum of decorum in the military. The Captain, even if he was stiff-necked, was not dumb by a far shot, and he had abstained from complaining about the issue. To each his own was his saying.

"I have been requested on the Bridge?" he asked, after a nod to the Captain in office.

"Yes, Captain Blight. Please look at what an automated long-range Scout reports. It is dead ahead of us, at a distance of 522.8 light-years, just over the horizon of our extended sensors and barely within the outer circle of defence. At our current speed of warp 9, it is slightly over 105 days out."

The display on the forward screen was impressive. The Scout was transmitting over fold-space an image consisting of millions upon millions of bright dots which were still too far to resolve into distinct objects.

Blight looked at the screen, baffled.

"I am sorry, Sir, I have never seen this kind of scenery."

"I thought so. Oh well, it was worth the try. Please sit behind the Captain’s chair. Your input is as valid as any. Typhoon? Suggestions?"

"Port a Scout to the forward location and have it travel ahead further until we have resolution."

"Do it. Timor, go on yellow alert. Paschal, release a Scout to Harp. Harp, implement the decision. Sitar, report to Bridge!"

Blight watched the interaction on the Bridge and could not help but notice how well the team gelled. Less than 30 seconds later, he saw a Scout appear in the view projected on the forward screen. Then it took off, and from another screen, began projecting what its forward camera saw.

"Set speed at warp 9.1 for the secondary Scout," ordered Harp.

"It leads by 57.94 times the speed of light per second. This is in conformity to the new model," reported AI-6.

As the second Scout ate distance, the image became progressively clearer. Hidden in the fog of a massive supernova remains was a huge armada of ships of all sizes and shapes.

"Is there any activity?"

"The Scout is still too far, Ian," replied Harp. "Even at maximum sensitivity, the noise background masks everything. The secondary Scout is now 3,764.33 light-seconds ahead of the primary Scout, somewhat more than a light-hour. Clarity has improved, but we are still in the fog."

Time passed quickly as each second brought more clarity to the image. As the secondary Scout reached a lead of 10 minutes on the primary Scout, giving it a lead of 9.66 hours on the primary one, things suddenly clarified, as if a curtain had been opened to reveal the vista beyond.

What came into view was a wall of space-ships of all forms and shapes. Their surface seemed tarnished, and as the Scout made its way toward them, examination revealed apparent damage. There was no light, no indication of power being consumed in any form. Some ships seemed to either have collided violently or having been boarded forcefully.

"Slow down the Scout to warp six."

Alexander, who had taken control of the second Scout so Harp could focus on sensor data, executed the command immediately.

"The Scout is five minutes off or 35,324,824,324.6568 kilometres away, and dropping."

The situation became even clearer as the Scout made its progress forward. There had been a gigantic battle, involving a collision between two armadas of titanic proportions. A wide range of forms and shapes could be seen, from spheres to discs, from cubes to diamonds, from tubes to star-fish. Burn marks could be seen everywhere as struts and other elements protruded from the ships’ maimed shells.

"One minute to the first ship. Bring us to down to warp two. We are 38 seconds off the first ship at that new speed."

Thirty seconds later, Harp ordered to drop at warp one, noting they were now 80 seconds off the first ship. Five seconds off the ship, Harp ordered exit from warp and to engage the impulse drives.

"Alexander, bring the Scout in parallel to the displacement of that ship, five miles to stern port. Can anyone identify the ship?"

Silence met Harp’s question.

"Move the Scout to the next one ahead, Alexander. It looks different enough."

Sir, Scout One is now closing in as well."

"Thank you, Glaurung. Claudius, take control and begin manoeuvres to bring Scout One inside the garbage pile."

"Yes, Sir."

After hopping from ship to ship for hours and still not getting anywhere, Harp got impatient.

"Bring Scout near that big one on our left. Let us see if we can find any markings."

The first passes did not reveal much. It had been hit by torpedoes or something similar to a point the Atlanteans could see right through to the other side.

"The attackers were not saving ammunition. What a waste," said Sitar.

As Scout Two was making another pass under the ship, Felicia noticed a darker, regular shape.

"Slow down! Zoom the forward port camera on the middle section!"

Alexander brought the Scout’s speed to match the behemoth’s while Harp zoomed the camera. The image revealed a darker, regular pattern and a geometric figure.

"If my guess is right, these scrapes of rather severely weathered ochre stripes are numbers and the big geometric figure is a sort of banner," suggested Felicia.

"Sir, may I call your attention to an upcoming event? There is a meteor about the size of a small mountain headed for the ships. It might be profitable to observe the consequences."

"Okay Glaurung. Bring Scout One and two about and place them rear first toward the expected collision point. Switch to stern cameras," ordered Harp.

It barely took a few seconds to rotate the Scouts and both allowed a view of the same impending event at a different angle. The big chunk of rock came into view, coming from above at a rather impressive speed.

"That is a bit too regular in shape to be a simple meteor. I think it is artificial," commented Ian. "How far away are we from the cemetery?"

"Thebes is 105 days away. We barely travelled an hour since we began exploring. The long-range sensors are beginning to pick up some fluctuations in the field that would be considered random if it was not for the Scouts."

"Bring us to warp 9.9."

"Yes sir. The transwarp engines are engaged. ETA at 91.5 days."

"I hate it when space is so big! Engage slipstream drives at 10%."

"The ETA has dropped to 5 days, sir."

"That is more acceptable. Can someone convert that into warp?"

"Its approximate value is warp 9.99999999922994," replied AI-2.

"That is an ‘approximate value’? You guys make me sick! When shall I learn never to ask an open-ended question of an artificial intelligence?"

"I could add a few more decimals..."

The Artificial Intelligence’s sweet reply brought an explosion of laughter at Ian’s expense.

"I would never tolerate that kind of behaviour from a bunch of circuits!" said Blight.

"You better learn then, or you might end up as Fish food in the Oceanic tessaract," growled AI-6.

"The poor Fishes always get the garbage!" added AI-4.

"Yes, the poor sweet things got fed the last General Hospital Administrator and some had a coronary from a high-cholesterol diet. I had to resuscitate them! Doing mouth to mouth resuscitation to Fishes is not fun!" added AI-1.

Blight’s face was precious: he turned green, and made a mad dash for the nearest garbage can to throw up.

"Hey! Keep the food in! We like to deliver well-wrapped packages!" said AI-3. Had Blight been able to take his head out of the can, he would have seen a collection of smirks that would have made him turn even greener.

"Let us get back to work. The impact is imminent," said Glaurung. Everyone, except Captain Blight, turned its attention to the main monitor. The poor Captain dragged himself back to his seat and found a plastic cup containing water with mint. Timor told him to rinse his mouth with the water and spit it in the can, which the Captain gladly did. The garbage can and its contents vanished once its use was done to be replaced by a freshly materialised and clean one.

The object flew into the compact ships, missing several before suddenly detonating, flaring up like a miniature Sun.

"What the Hell?" asked Sitar as he triggered the Red Alert status. "Harp! What did you detect?"

"I am slowing down the recordings. There! Let me see... This thing blew up some 5,000 miles off that big ship that looks like a lost neurone. I am getting records on all electromagnetic waves but nothing sticks out. Let me check on other forces. Nothing on gravitation, nothing in the weak and strong forces, nothing in Magic, no lurking mass mine. I am baffled. We need to slow down our approach until this mystery is solved."

"I agree Harp. How far are we from the ships?"

"Fifteen seconds at current speed," reported Navigation.

"Drop us to warp nine at five seconds from target."

"That will give us an additional 125 seconds to target," replied Navigation.

"Good. I hate mysteries. Drop back again at warp 6, 3, and 1 each time we reach the five second mark."

"Acknowledged."

"Now, guys, I gained us some time. I want answers!"

The crew began trying to figure out the mystery they were dealing with. All sorts of ideas flew across the Bridge in some sort of organised mayhem. No idea was too frivolous to escape testing through modelling, but nothing stuck. Finally, after testing everything and coming blank, the only idea that made it through because it could not be tested was a time mine. That shocked Paschal, who just about freaked out. Finally, Ian called for some calm.

"You know the rules: once everything possible has been eliminated, what is left is how to see it, however improbable it is. So time mine it is. Now, how do we disarm it?"

"Before disarming, we need to detect. We can not even see it!" said Sitar, stating the obvious.

"Sitar is right, Ian," stated Harp. "If we can not detect it, not only can we not disarm it, but we might well be in the middle of a mine field and be headed to our doom."

"Warp 3!" reported Navigation, as Thebes slowed down once more.

"Full stop! Full shields!" ordered Ian. "Distance to target?"

"Somewhere around 58,411,107.59745 kilometres."

"AI-2, stop playing with my nerves before I flood your circuits with salty water."

"I am insensitive to water. I am based on a quantum matrix."

"I have a suggestion, Ian."

"Typhoon, you are always welcomed to state your suggestions, my love."

"Why not send out high-speed balls of matter ahead of the ship, say at .5 C? That should clear up a path for us, since these mines will be blowing up the objects in an effort to protect whatever they want to protect?"

"That is an idea. What was the mass of that meteor?"

"Way more than what we can accelerate. However, we can accelerate gravity mines quite easily and then trigger their mass activation to match that object’s measured value," suggested Paschal. "For safety reasons, we can trigger them at 500,000 miles off bow."

"Do it. Try to map a pattern in the location of the time mines."

"I suggest we extend the process all around the ship," said Thebes. "Who knows if one of these niceties is not headed toward us right now?"

"You have a point. Extend to all directions, at 1 radians angle."

"We will be short on gravity mines."

"Then make some more, damn it!" said Ian, looking at Paschal with blazing eyes. "Harp, go with him to materialise the needed components. We have to get this going as quickly as possible. Timor, Shields! Rockhook, Helm! Sitar, ready to fire the gravity mines as soon as they come off assembly! Thorsten, relieve Samson at Navigation. Get going!"

Captain Blight looked at the young Man with new-found respect. He was decisive, and knew when to take command with force. He also noticed the others acted immediately without questioning any of the orders. That in itself was a dream come true for the Captain that had lived his fair share of people trying to contest his decisions, undermine his authority, or otherwise sabotage whatever plans he and others had come up to stay alive.

A few minutes later. Blight saw a series of small objects measuring less than 20 inches in circumference, leave the ship in a sphere. They seemed to move away at an incredible speed. Wave after wave left the ship in almost parallel trajectories at one second interval.

"The first wave of graviton mines is active, the virtual mass is set at one Gigatonnes." said Typhoon, that had taken Harp’s Sensor station. "No detonation has occurred as of yet. The second wave is accelerating, and the third wave is being positioned."

The crew watched the progress of each wave, surprised at the speed at which the mines appeared and around Thebes and left the proximity of the ship. Suddenly, a powerful flash of light occurred some 52 light-seconds away from Thebes, preceded by a gravitational flux.

"Wave three, angle 320.232°, elevation -42.221°, range 52 light-seconds. Position is recorded," said Typhoon. Barely had he sprouted the numbers that another gravitational pulse followed by a light flash occurred. "Wave 2, 53.449°, elevation 63.224°, range 73 light-seconds. Position is recorded." Typhoon kept reporting more and more mines as time passed. "Sitar, disarm wave one. They are less then two seconds from the ships."

"Okay."

The crew continued watching as the gravitational mines swept through the apparently empty space, triggering the time mines by their sheer virtual mass. After 15 waves, no more detonation occurred in the space around Thebes.

"That is a good clean-up. Warp three. Get us closer to the ships!" ordered Ian. "Paschal, can you reactivate those mines that have not collided with the ships yet?"

"Yes."

"Do so."

There was a sudden series of explosions well inside the area occupied by the armada, clearly indicating the mine field extended well beyond the first line of ships.

"How many mines survived?"

"Around 250,000, Ian."

"Have we damaged some ships?"

"A dozen or so, no more, but we need to disarm again. The mines are getting near the other agglomerate of ships."

"Do so."

"We are 5 seconds from the ships. I am taking us out of warp," Alexander reported from the Helm.

"Okay. Position us abreast of the nearest ship at 100,000 miles. I want an away team on FSS deck One ready to teleport in two minutes. Colibri, Greywolf, Rockhook, Paschal and Kalseru, join Away team Alpha. Sitar, as soon as the mines are past the second agglomerate, reactivate them. I want the clean up process to continue. Harp, try to establish how far is the planet around which this garbage is orbiting."

"It is completely masked by the third layer of garbage!"

"The Hell it is! Use the apparent curvature of the crap and its orbital speed to estimate the distance!"

Harp looked at Ian wide-eyed. What was wrong with his little brother for him to act that way?

"Has it ever occurred to you that this pile of crap is not orbiting anything?" replied Harp in a rather icy tone.

"What do you mean? There is a visible curvature!"

"So? These two armadas collided in space, one presenting a compact mass of ships protected by a mine field, travelling in an attack formation. The other armada tried to assail the compact core and met the mines, getting destroyed, their tight offensive convergence turning against them! From what a mapping of the debris fields reveal, there were five major attacks on the compact core of space-ships, as attested by the five concentric spheres of crap we see over there. The sixth, last ditch attack made it to the core ships and destroyed them, but not without losing any capacity at leaving the battlefield."

Sitar nodded at Harp’s analysis.

"Ian, Harp is right. This is what I see too."

"I must add that this battle seems to date considerably," said Enron. "From the severe state of radiation ‘dust’ I would say a good 65,000,000 if not more years. We may be able to date it more carefully once we have a sample of the surface."

"Navigation, establish the target of the inner armada given its current trajectory. There, I assume it has not been disrupted by anything over the aeons. Oh, do not look at me with big eyes! I know that this assumption is on thin ice, but we must start somewhere! I also assume that this series of concentric spheres would have been disrupted if they had crossed the path of a solar system with enough close proximity to disrupt the course."

"That seems reasonable. Give me ten minutes," Fanfir replied, as he moved in to relieve the Ensign that had taken Rockhook’s place at Navigation. "Sit here, young Snake. I shall show you how to project a trajectory in time both forward and backward."

"Why backward? After all, it is a hunt and when you hunt, you bite ahead of the prey’s current position, not behind!"

"In a way it is. But suppose you want to find the nest of your prey to eat its eggs, you need to be able to project its trajectory back in time."

"Oh."

Fanfir began establishing some projections but was stymied by one missing factor: the speed of travel. The current speed was more akin to a drift due to left-over inertia than a planned interstellar speed. Oh, it was not slow, but it was not even warp one, so trying to estimate which star system was likely to have interested the ships before they were attacked turned out to be next to impossible. Furthermore, the uncertainty enveloping the age of the battle made projecting the galaxy back in time to have an idea of where each star was at the time was stopping the establishment of potential scenarios.

"Ian, I need a firm range of dates for that battle," finally clamoured Fanfir. "We might be able to guesstimate the speed from the location of potential stars of interest during that period, but until I can backtrack the rotation of the Galaxy to a date range, I can not find out what was the target. All I get for now are billions of possibilities, all as valid as the others."

"The away team just ported in the vicinity of that big hole. Paschal is sampling the material. It is being transferred to the laboratory under a force ten confinement field."

"A containment field for a mineral sample?"

"Ask Paschal when he comes back."

***

Paschal propelled his FSS into the gaping hole that marred the hull of the ship. He could see a couple of stars shining through the gigantic 8-mile deep gap but most were hidden by the other rings of ships.

"Get a sample of the carcass’ metal."

Kalseru materialised a cutter and began cutting a bit of the ragged edge to stop immediately.

"Come here, Colibri. What do you make of this?" he asked, as he pointed to the fine black dust that seemed to stick to the tool like iron to a magnet. "These tools are non-magnetic."

"Let me try and brush the dust off," replied Colibri, as he created a hard brush composed of carbon fibres. Barely had he touched the cutter with it that he saw the brush’s hairs dissolve and the number of black particles multiply! "Holy shit! This black dust is alive! And look! It ate the metal of the tool! It has all these little pockmarks like some ultra-powerful acid had been dropped on it! And the cutting edge is dissolving into black dust right under our eyes! That ship is being devoured from the skin to the inside! Guys! Do not touch anything. Look, describe, but do not touch under any circumstances," ordered Colibri.

"Leave the tools behind, and let us move deeper inside. Maybe we will find some information," decided Paschal.

The group moved deeper and noticed there were a number of rooms that had been breached from the impact, but others seemed to have exploded from the inside. Hallways also showed wiring, and torn doors, some which seemed to have buckled under intense pressure. The absence of artificial gravity made locomotion hazardous, as things seemed to stay hanging in mid-air, just waiting for something to get them in motion. Boxes could be seen in rooms, apparently held by nets that seemed on the verge of letting go at the slightest impact.

"Guys, given what we have found so far, set a force field around the FSS, level 10 repulsive. It will prevent anything from entering in physical contact with us," ordered Colibri. "Precautions are better than being sorry."

The sudden glow of the force fields around the suits illuminated the hole in a greenish hue that gave the place a demonic appearance with shades that changed as the away team made its way deeper in the vast ship.

"I wish we knew how this thing is designed," commented Kalseru. "I think if we could reach the Bridge, we might find some information."

"You assume everything is not eaten up," Rockhook replied.

"Well yes, I hope so, but I have no illusion. Let us take that big hall up here. I do not know where it goes, but it seems wider, and to be clear of obstacles for as far as I can see."

The group moved in file behind Kalseru and, using the capacity to curve space of Magic, made their way up through the vast hole to the ceiling. Greywolf’s force field collided with a strange oblong object that literally exploded in fine dust. It was accelerated by the force fields and, after banging between them for a few seconds, repulsed away from the group. It left the compact group at a phenomenal speed, headed for the far wall.

"I wonder why this occurred?" asked Kalseru.

"The force field is a polarised ionisation field that accelerated the particles in a particular direction. We share a common polarity, and each of us contributed to the acceleration process," explained Paschal. "I measured the mass of the object as it passed through my field: a nice 14 pounds. I expect some rather messy problems when that thing hits the far wall!"

"Let us move in the hallway before this happens," said Colibri. "Colibri to Thebes Bridge! Activate repulsion shields."

"I did it as soon as I heard Paschal’s analysis," replied Harp.

The away team resumed its progress and quickly engaged in the hallway Kalseru had spotted. Many side doors opened on top and bottom, clearly telling them that the gravity field used to be from left to right. After progressing about a mile, the group met at door that was partially torn and covered with the same black dust.

"We need to get by, but I do not want it to rub on the FSS. Suggestions?"

"Simple, Paschal: let us port on the other side. We can see beyond so we know it is clear," said Colibri.

"Still, I prefer testing the impact of using a laser beam before we are cornered!" replied Greywolf. Paschal nodded his assent at the idea, and Kalseru aimed a finger at the door’s twisted top. The beam hit the metallic surface that had not yet been invaded by the corruptive material, reddening it progressively.

"Damn, this metal is highly resistant to heat!" he commented.

"Continue hitting the same point until it melts."

"I am at one terawatt per second and it’s barely ruby. I am not even cutting it."

"Go up to one zettawatt."

"This is nuts!" said the Dragon, as the metal finally turned bluish-white and the laser began cutting through the door slowly. "Should I go a few order of magnitudes above? We could be here next year!"

"Sure. Try one yottawatt. It is possible to go higher, but let us not jump more until we observe the gain."

The cutting speeded up considerably. As the cutting beam neared the rotted metal, it began to sizzle but suddenly the dust exploded violently spreading in a sphere that was accelerated once again by the force field.

"We are lucky we have these force fields!" commented one of the enlisted Dwarfs that was part of the away team.

"Yes. Continue the cut, Kalseru. We need to pass beyond that door."

As the Dragon continued to work, Paschal eyed the dust that was violently ejected by the beam.

"Something is totally wrong here. Did you notice that the damn dust seems to head toward the energy source? I would have expected the laser to push the particles away from us, but it is like they drain part of the energy to come straight at us!"

"What do you expect? Not everything is gay, you know!" replied Colibri.

"Get your head out of the gutter!" exclaimed Greywolf, groaning.

"Get ready, the cut is almost done. We wanted a piece to examine, that chip is sizeable enough for analysis," Rockhook noted.

"I asked Thebes to activate a force ten confinement force field, and to de-pressurise the area inside, bringing the temperature to nearly absolute zero, mimicking the conditions we have here. As soon as it breaks off, I will port it into the field... Now!"

The chunk of severely contaminated metal vanished and an observer reported it was stable in zero gravity. Kalseru continued cutting the door and, gradually, more metal chips joined the first one on the confinement field on Thebes. Finally the passage was clear. The group then progressed further down the dark hallway, seeing more doors on each side. The metal seemed to clear progressively of its rot: at first the dark green and fuzzy look turned paler, and then some spots of grey started to appear and grow in importance until finally the material eating away at the metal was reduced to narrow strands spread like they had been woven by a drunk Spider. Finally, even this web was gone. By then, another door loomed ahead of the explorers.

"I do not want to open that door, guys. There are many reasons for that. First, there might be an atmosphere on the other side, and analysing its composition should tell us a lot about who built this ship. Second, if there are bodies on the other side, the sudden decompression would blow them to shreds. Third, I just do not feel like getting spray-painted by ET innards."

"You have these images... But, yes, Colibri, I agree it would not be a great experience. At least we know the thickness of the door. So, who does the jump?" Paschal asked.

"I shall do it. I only need to change shape first," replied Greywolf.

"What will changing accomplish?" wondered the same Dwarf that had talked earlier.

"I can reduce my volume by taking on the size of black Fly and the FSS adjusted.

«I did not know you had taken that gene map?»

«It is good to get rid of the Mites and Fleas after a hunt in a thicket. I shall port on the other side.»

Greywolf vanished from sight and the others waited anxiously. Finally, after a minute, Paschal could not help but ask what was happening.

«I did good to port as a Fly. There are lots of floating material on this side. I am clearing the hallway and changing size as the area opens up. I should be back to my alternate Human form shortly.»

Another five minutes passed before Greywolf told them to ready for visually assisted translocation. The first to jump were the away team members, followed by the command team.

"Have you noticed anything while cleaning up the area?" asked Paschal.

"The atmosphere is tenuous and probably leaked out through the seals until the dust blocked the passage. However, there are no traces of the cancer that is eating the ship in the hallway. I did not see any corpse, but there must be some, somewhere, Maybe there are bodies in the next segment. That ship did not fly itself."

The team made its way further, noticing some objects tied to the walls with strange-looking clips. There were also, at regular intervals, plates that were of different colour than the usual metal.

"I would think these are lights. After all, you can not be in space and live in the dark all the time," commented Rockhook.

"What about these objects?" wondered Kalseru.

"The most dangerous element on a ship, especially a space-ship, is fire. That these objects are placed at very regular intervals lets me believe they are fire extinguishers, probably using a chemical, since another enemy on a space-ship is water."

"I am curious as to the nature of the chemical," Kalseru said.

"So am I. Let me release one of them and port it on Thebes in another containment field," said Paschal. "Anyway, the ‘handle’ looks strange. We might be able to guess the anatomy of the users from it if we do not find a body."

The task expedited, the team progressed and reached another door.

"Do we use the same method?" asked Rockhook.

"It worked once," said Greywolf before porting across the door while changing his shape.

"He makes me nervous when he does that!" noted Kalseru. "If the FSS does not adapt fast enough, he could end up dead."

"True, if the FSS was not intimately interfaced to the body of the wearer. It is in fact liquid metal, and like any liquid, it follows the form of the container closely," explained Paschal.

"But it is outside of the body!"

"Again, this is a misconception. It is bonded to the body at the sub-atomic level. It will take any shape, shrink and expand as needed, without leaving even a gluon’s width between the wearer and itself. It becomes the wearer’s skin. When you dive into the unbounded FSS pool, you immerse yourself in the liquid that bonds to your skin just before porting. When you return, the polarity of the suit reverses and it leaves your body falling into the decontamination collector, whose role is to ensure the FSS fluid is cleared of any element not of its specific structure. This happens during the port, so you materialise on the deck totally dry. Once purified of any contaminant, the fluid returns to the unbounded FSS fluid pool. The contaminants are themselves processed to recycle everything from water waste to solid wastes. You certainly noticed your body stays relatively free of body odour even if you spend days in the suit. That is the reason."

"And where does the food come from?" asked Greywolf, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"The water is filtered from body waste. Food is produced by reshaping the molecules of the body’s solid waste into a series of edible products. In fact, the suit is a self-sustaining planet."

"I knew I should not have asked," said Colibri, after making some faces.

"Let me finish by explaining the limits of the suit. It is not that it is, in itself, limited. It can derive energy from any source and could keep a person alive indefinitely. It is the wearer that imposes the limit. We are social animals, even you, my Snake friend, and we must interact with each other physically otherwise we become unstable. That is the real reason for the automatic recall function implanted within the FSS. In theory, since the FSS is atom-thin, we could have every living organism on Thebes in one, from the biggest to the smallest. Practically, that is another thing. How do you explain to a bacteria the notion of a FSS? And who wants to give a virus that option? In practice, should things turn so dire that it might be envisioned, it is Thebes itself that could be wrapped in a FSS cocoon. Let us hope this will never arise. Getting Thebes out of that armour would be impossible."

"Impossible is back in the dictionary? I thought that it had been banned," Kalseru said, smirking evilly.

"You, my friend, risk a dive in the pool when we get back!"

"As long as it is in a lava pool, I shall not mind!"

By then Greywolf called them to port on his side. The atmospheric pressure was a lot higher on the other side of the door, revealing that the seal had survived the outrages of time. But there were still no bodies to be found, which began to embarrass the Atlanteans.

"Could it be they were in the process of evacuating the ship with survival capsules when that big blow-out occurred?" asked Kalseru.

"Yes, and if so, the capsules are long gone and so are the occupants. The cancer eating this ship probably ate at any corpse that might have survived sudden decompression in the cold of space. Our only option is to find the Bridge and try to understand its functionality Hopefully, we are headed that way."

With that last comment, Paschal took the lead. They made it through several more doors until they finally reached a much shorter passage.

"That change indicates we are coming to a new type of area. Greywolf, if you would?" asked Paschal.

The Wolf made short work of transporting across the door.

«I think this will be of interest, guys.»

«What have you found?» asked Paschal.

«Wait and see! Focus on visually assisted porting.»

The group translocated to the area occupied by Greywolf. As he rotated, Paschal could not help but whistle.

"This is a surprise!"

"What do you think this is?"

"Definitely the Bridge, but look at these interfaces! Everything is sockets, absolutely everything! This ship was controlled by electronics only!"

Colibri and Rockhook walked around, eyeing the controls and the dark monitors. Finally, Colibri saw a door, slightly ajar, at the side of the room. He pushed it open gently and could not help himself. He emitted a shrill whistle, calling everyone to his position.

"Look inside, but do not touch anything. I think I found a crew member, or what is left of one, that is."

Slowly, the Atlanteans took turns peeking into the darkened room. What they saw was shocking. A bipedal skeleton was floating loosely, held together by a space suit. Except for the bones, organic matter had liquified and seemed t have accumulated in the lower limbs. The head, presenting two eye orbits close enough to allow depth perception, was visible, along with a set of very long, sharp teeth, indicating a carnivorous regimen. But this was not what shocked the Atlanteans. It was the presence of sensory sockets implemented behind the skull with another small cube at what could be conceived as the vocal box, and all around the top midsection of the cranium. After overcoming a natural repulsion, Colibri looked inside the space suit at what he could see of the body.

"That is what I thought. There are electronic components inside the body itself, tied to the skeleton by screws. This is a mix of organic and electronics that far surpasses the best efforts Atlanteans ever reached."

"What you describe is a cyborg. Cyborg? Borg! That is very fascinating!" exclaimed Paschal. "I am beginning to think we are seeing one of their first flights."

"Look at that!" said Rockhook. "That one stayed behind for a damn good reason! The atmospheric container is breached. It probably condemned the wearer to a quick death. That is why the bearer of the space suit was left behind."

"Okay. Now we know who were the attackers. They are the ancestors of the Borgs. At the time, ships were diverse, non-standard, and the Cyborgs still had organic components. That puts this battle at well before their collision with the Atlanteans of Atlantis One. By how much remains to be established. They were already in cubic form when they assaulted the Seraphrims’ home world, and that was well before they found Atlantis One. Did they still have some limited biological components? That remains to be seen."

"Paschal, if there was an organic component, it must have been very limited. They were eating more rocks than life when they did their crap with the Seraphrims. Maybe the destruction of organic life was more collateral damage than a targeted objective. I spent a lot of time talking to the Matriarch about her oral history," Rockhook told them. "I feel a kinship with her as we both lost our home world to an invasion, if it was not of the same invaders."

"Now, let us try to figure out their origin and target. Maybe there are records somewhere," wondered Paschal.

"Interfacing with that will not be easy," noted Kalseru.

"The FSS has many options you have never tried because we never did need them. Select the control panel, look at the bottom-left icon and focus on it. That icon is a hand. Once it gets activated, there is a scroll-down menu that appears on the same side, with images of paws and, at the bottom of the scrolling list, a circle, marking a change in scroll-down menu. Focus on that one."

Once every member of the team had reached the second scroll-down menu, Paschal continued his directives.

"Notice that the connectors we are looking for have 31 holes, arranged in three 10-holes row and an additional pin at the middle of what would constitute the fourth row. Now move the image until you see a 10-pin row, select it, and select the hold in place. Select two more times, and move the additional rows so they are aligned with the first one. Place each one on hold. Then select a single-pin and add it to the composite image. We now need to position the pins properly, but first, look at the holes and ask the FSS to measure their diameter and adjust the pins to the same size. Then use the same trick to measure the inter-space between the pins in the same row. Finally, measure the inter-space between adjacent rows and that single hole. There you have it, a map of the interface, and the FSS will now extend slowly on the finger you press on the holes until it reaches the maximum depth. You have your interface connection. The FSS will begin sending electrical pulses in an orderly fashion until it can make sense of the response pattern. It will do so very quickly. Reserve the right side of the heads-up display to analyse the data you will receive."

"What are we looking for?" asked Kalseru.

"A star chart."

"Are you not afraid that the data could corrupt the FSS artificial intelligence?" Colibri worried.

"No. That interface is running on a virtual machine behind a firewall. Anyway, it is only data. Any attempt to pass beyond the pins is halted because the electrical signals never really go further than an optical bridge. Each electrical pulse is converted to a photon that is detected or sent within the base of the pins. I never actually run anything in the virtual machine, only using it to generate data streams that are the source of the graphics you see."

After half an hour of trying to establish some form of control, Rockhook noticed a repeating pattern. Some analysis revealed a regular signal of a certain length separated by long streams of apparently random bits. Further analysis revealed another signal superposed itself on the short-term one, at regular intervals as well. Applying some more analysis, Rockhook noticed that the apparent randomness of the signal encased within the highest frequency one also seemed to have a semblance of order. He organised the data in subsequent rows and suddenly, an image of a room, rotated by 90°, appeared on his heads-up display!

"Hey, I have access to a camera monitoring a room! It is static, but it is recognisable!"

"Good. What do you see?"

"I would say a living quarter. The camera is focussed on some type of desk. I think that was the last image the Cyborg was watching when he died. It looks like a family area of sorts."

"Try to change the camera angle."

"Okay."

Paschal was the next to make some progress. He managed to access what seemed to be some text organised around drawings. It did not take him long to figure out he was accessing a technical manual of sorts, and he ravenously dumped everything in storage to the emulator’s memory for further study, including images. Admittedly, some parts were rather arcane until he found one that represented the atomic bonds of methane! He almost yelled his joy and would have hopped around if it would have been possible in zero-gravity!

Finally, Kalseru was the one to find what they were looking for: A star map. It was a rather difficult task to identify as a star map except that each dot was accompanied by a block of four numbers separated by a marker. At first, Kalseru was at a loss for the fourth number, until he added the need to account for the time light took to reach their current position; this needed to be taken into account for the jumps. After all, the longer the jump, the more the star would have moved from its recorded position. He copied the map and the line that seemed to travel in a three-dimensional spiral around an axis. The only issue left was to backtrack the Milky Way’s star displacement over time and try to match this map with it, a gargantuan task even for the Artificial Intelligences in Thebes. Then there was the need to take into account the displacement of the ship cemetery which would change the values over time. If only there was a way to measure elapsed time since the battle! Unfortunately, the external surface, which would have recorded micro-meteorite impacts, had been eaten up to the point of being useless. As he studied the star map, he noticed that some stars had a fifth mark, with strange symbols beside them. Maybe this could help in establishing the age of the map. Searching further, Kalseru began studying the apparent trajectory of the fleet and noticed the symbol changed.

"Rockhook? I shall send you a star map. I am not a Helmsman or Navigator, maybe you can make better sense of what I see."

"Sure. Anyway, I am stuck with the camera."

Rockhook studied the data and had to agree with Kalseru’s preliminary analysis. This was indeed a star chart, and he too, got intrigued by the spiralling line that seemed to change at some point. After some mind scratching, he realised that the line mapped past and future displacement. Now, which was which? Unable to decide, he put the issue on the back-burner and studied the star map with renewed attention. He noticed that the stars with 5 values seemed to have a rather low fifth number. Could it be these stars were used as beacons? What type of star could be a beacon? Pulsars would do nicely, but then the frequency of the pulses diminished as a jump brought a ship closer to the pulsar in question, due to the slowing down of the star’s rotation in time. Yes, to effectively characterise a pulsar while you used jumps, you needed five co-ordinates: X, Y, Z, T, F. If the pulsar was 100,000 light-years away, what you would measure would be the frequency it had 100,000 years earlier, not its current frequency. Still, Rockhook realised that the star map was static; it did not characterise a star’s displacement around the galactic centre. Then the Goblin thought it out further. That data would probably be stored elsewhere, in huge tables that could be used to model star displacement interactions and adjust the projected location from a model of the galaxy. That these Cyborgs had built such a galactic model was a feat by itself. It required vast processing power, well beyond a simple computer. Something ticked his mind, but for the life of him, he could not pinpoint what it was. As he looked at the problem, he was distracted by an inconsequential comment done by Colibri.

"Spit Snake, my friend, I really wonder what this big junk of electronics did to their brains. It seems to be linked to a veritable mesh of metallic electrodes, much like it was resting on their brain directly and allowing them direct interface with the ship."

"Who knows. I see a bank of connectors there, allowing them to sort of lay down and connect as their head stayed immobilised by the head gear."

More and more distracted by the exchange between Colibri and Spit Snake, Rockhook disconnected from the computer interface after having stored the map for further study and made his way to look over Colibri’s shoulder, mindful of his steps as Snake had returned to his primary form. His eyes rapidly alternated between the connector and the connector bank. The Cyborgs evidently used direct brain control of their ship, as evidenced by all these neural interfaces. Direct brain control... Direct brain control... Brain control... Control... Brain... Direct! Then it hit Rockhook like a ton of bricks. They used the brains to run the model. Each crew member on the Bridge contributed in computing the model! It might have been slow for a single brain, but if it used heuristics to solve the complex issue, it was well within the capacity of a brain hive to resolve the problem within reasonable time frames. Yet, there was more to this, and Rockhook was determined to find what. There was something the Borgs did that... Yes! They had a hive mentality! They had become so linked together with their brains they could no longer function individually! Interstellar navigation had been the driving force behind the loss of individuality! Totally shocked by his discovery, Rockhook did not respond to a question by Colibri, alarming Spit Snake and him.

"God to the Devil!" hollered Colibri, at a loss as to how to attract Rockhook’s attention and producing a thunder of laughter that finally passed through Rockhook’s fog.

"What is so funny?"

"Nothing of importance, but you did not answer when I asked you what was wrong..."

"There is nothing wrong. I just made two major discoveries. One, it is possible to date that star map by backtracking the pulsars by frequency in time. Second, the hive mentality of the Borgs is due to the necessity to solve the arduous navigation problem created by star jumps. Their solution is frighteningly simple: merge the brains of the crew and use the combined power to produce a projective map of the Galaxy to their current objective. It reached a point where each Cyborg was linked to a master brain, and had limited autonomy. The only issue is identifying one or two pulsars. I figured that the best candidates would be extra-galactic ones, whose position would barely move relative to the Galaxy for the past maybe 500,000,000 years or more. I plan to project the map on a screen and remove everything that is not in the exact same spot, including pulsars. There should be a good 100 reference points. If I lose all light sources, I will extend the time coverage, but that is more than likely improbable. Once we have a couple of pulsars, Yamato can try to break their number symbols."

"Okay. Let us move back to Thebes and proceed toward the core of that fleet. We need to know who the others are."

***

Thebes slowly progressed between the gaps. Gravitational mines were sent in the gaps, detonating the time mines and clearing the path for the Atlantean space ship. The gaps were getting narrower as they progressed, clearly indicating that the number of Cyborg ships had been much reduced by the time the last sphere had closed around the battlefield from the outside. The last gap was in fact too narrow for Thebes to make its way through, so Sitar projected a few minor gravitational mines directly on the outlying hulls of Cyborg ships. The gap widened and became practical. Thebes moved closer and closer to the compact ship arrayed in a defensive posture.

"That proves the adage that says the best defence is offence," said the God of War of Atlantis. "We are less than a dozen miles from the nearest ship. I think we are close enough."

"All right. Alexander, hold station. I want an analysis of these ships. We now have an unobstructed view of their form," ordered Ian.

Slowly the giant collection of ships spun under the watchful gaze of the Atlanteans. Again, a variety of ship was revealed.

"Hey, zoom on that one!" ordered Enron.

"Which one?" asked a surprised Harp.

"The one with that almost needle-like shape! I have seen that before! Thebes! Identify! It was not too long ago we met such a ship!"

After a few seconds, the Artificial Intelligence came back with what could be considered a positive identification.

"You are right, King Enron. That form matches the one recorded in time by the sensor left to record the installation of the black hole powered Elohim trap around the Earth, which was attributed to the Founders. This is a Founder ship."

The shock was total. Here, in plain sight, was a complete armada of Founder ships encircled by an even bigger armada of Cyborg ships.

"What do we do? Cyborgs, we know how to deal with, but Founders are an entirely different matter," said Sitar, as he looked expectantly at Ian.

"We do what must. We go see up close. Colibri, Greywolf, Rockhook, Paschal and Kalseru? Are you available to lead another away team?"

The five nodded and made their way to the FSS deck quickly.

***

"Funny to see you guys again so soon," said Colibri as the away team appeared at the portal node. "I thought you would have taken a well-deserved break."

"And miss the chance of meeting face to face with a Founder? Over my dead body!" exclaimed Spit Snake.

"You have grown..."

"Yes, I moulded a day ago."

"I meant you have gained emotions. Before that, you were a bit cold... blooded."

"Being able to take Human form has taught me the richness of emotions."

"Just make sure that, contrary to some of my Brothers, you are not guided by them when cold thinking is best."

"That, I learned, is easier said than done. I have a lot to learn from all the species that compose my extended family."

The away team ported near the closest Founder ship and began trying to find a way in. The ship seemed to be sealed air-tight and no easy entrance could be found. Finally, a port hole was seen down in its underbelly, and revealed a somewhat narrow view of a room inside. Greywolf ported across the rather thick wall and helped the others gauge their distances properly. Once everyone was inside, the FSS sensors revealed a rather average contents of oxygen and nitrogen.

"Let us move. That door seems to open this way. It does have a strange oval shape, but then a door is a door," decided Paschal. He tried to push the handle down but it resisted, so he reverted the movement and the lock clicked allowing him to pull the door open. The group left the room and made their way toward the ship’s core, hoping to find some information on the long-lost Founders.

Their progress was hampered by a total absence of knowledge about the ship and they took many wrong turns before finally coming out at the end of a much wider hallway. There, Paschal had them line the walls in two lines rather than occupy the middle of the hallway, reducing the chance of being taken in a cross-fire should thing turn ugly.

As they walked across the hallway, it lit up by segment, in a rather reddish glow.

"Either their Sun is red, or they are running low on energy," suggested Colibri. "By the way, this ship is totally devoid of micro-organisms. It is more sterile than the surface of the Moon! I pushed the tests to the atomic level in the filters and all I get is oxygen and nitrogen, absolutely nothing else. We are the polluters here."

"I can not say, but it is encouraging. They still have power," replied Paschal.

"I do not like over-sterile environments. That can only mean two things, Colibri: One, they have powerful antibacterial or life suppressors, which constitute a risk for us. After all, nothing guarantees that these microbial suppressors can not kill us one cell at a time. Second, if there is a life form in here, it has lost immunity to any pathogen, even the most harmless. We must not, under any consideration, leave the FSS."

"You know we can not even if we wanted, so stop worrying about it," said Paschal.

The group had decided to amplify sounds with the help of the FSS, since there was an atmosphere equal to 1.5 times the one found on Thebes. This allowed them to detect hisses and other noises well before they could see the source of the perturbation. Thus it was a total surprise for them to meet face to face with an occupant that seemed to float in mid-air as it progressed silently in the hallway. It too seemed to be in shock of meeting them!