The Definitive SpaceFed Trilogy (SpaceFed StarShips Trilogy).: A thrilling, action-packed Sci-fi space adventure. (SpaceFed StarShips Series Book 8) Page 6

  “No, Jack!” Philips interjected. “You’ve got it wrong.”

  “Have I?” he growled.

  “Yes. It's Frank who controls the Andromeda, not the other way around. He can be as much as forty kilometres away from the ship, and still be in control.”

  Jack said nothing, but turned and peered out of the window. Frank was a great friend of his, and this mind-link business was like a kick in the stomach to him.

  ‘Oh well, what the heck, does it matter anyway’ he thought. ‘Frank's in control, and in the last analysis that’s all that really matters.'

  “Okay, I accept your statements, gentlemen,” he murmured turning.

  “But all of you listen to me. If Andromeda destroys the alien ship, we're safe. If she's captured, we’re dead. All of us.”

  “Jack, this supposedly 'highly developed' alien race might be friendly towards us,” Anderson ventured. “After all, we don’t know whether the Hawk struck first.”

  “What with?” Philips exclaimed. “The Hawk was an Exploration ship. Its force field was designed solely to protect it from meteorites, and it wasn’t expected to be involved in combat so only had limited armament.”

  “Philips is right, the Hawk couldn't start a fight,” Anderson added.

  “True, and we can’t possibly think alike, so don’t know how the alien’s mind would respond to another race. Yes, their ship must have attacked the Hawk,” Jack replied.

  “So, are you saying that this alien species could attack us at any time, and wipe us out?” Carter asked.

  “Yes!”

  “I think I agree with Jack,” Philips muttered.

  “Whatever we think, the Andromeda has the most sophisticated computer brain that has ever been devised by man. So, if Andromeda says the Hawk was attacked, and by aliens. Then I go along with that.”

  “Aliens more advanced than us, by the very nature of the weapons being used,” Jack reminded them.

  “Well, there are more ships nearly completed in our Mars space docks, so we must get at least two of them into space as soon as possible.

  Otherwise, gentlemen. If Frank and Andromeda can’t pull something off together,” he let his words hang.

  “Andromeda can't fight the aliens alone. Especially if these aliens have a fleet.”

  He looked at them with hardness in his eyes. “If Andromeda is captured, then the aliens will know where our planet is, within moments of it being captured.

  Therefore, we must at least try to do something to counter any attack. Humanity deserves a chance, and they will have it. Won’t they gentlemen?”

  “Even if there is nowhere to go?” Carter asked.

  “Yes!” replied Jack. “Even if humanity is chased to hell and back by the aliens,” he paused.

  “I propose that the process of crew selection for the new ships starts immediately. With all of them being ferried out to the vessels without delay. By which time the ships should be ready to go.

  They must be despatched into deep-space. Sending each of them in a different direction. Then, they must stand-by for any action deemed necessary!”

  All three murmured their agreement, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

  Chapter 9.

  The Graveyard.

  Frank, looking at the alien’s ship through the viewing screen, said. “We’ve wasted two days already Alan trying to find their principal weapon.”

  “Damn it, Frank, we don’t even know what it looks like, let alone where it is.”

  “I know, but time is running out.”

  “Look, we’ve found that most of the control panels are fused together; it's the same throughout the ship. We need more time!” Alan exclaimed.

  “That's the one thing we haven’t got.”

  “One day, Frank. One lousy day, that's all I'm asking.”

  “No. And that’s final.”

  “OK. Well, I suppose there was only a slim chance of finding it anyway, especially since even Andromeda’s detectors couldn’t locate it.”

  Turning back from the image on his screen of the alien ship wallowing outside like a dead fish, all wrinkled and split down the centre. Frank directed his thoughts to Andromeda’s ‘brain.’

  ‘Andromeda. Recall the men,’ he ordered, and before he'd finished, he knew that they were already on their way back from the wreck.

  “Something new Alan,” Frank said. “During our battle with the alien ship, Andromeda intercepted a message, which seems to be a contact between the alien, and probably its command ship.

  We’ve used information from the Hawk’s data crystal, plus predictive language association, to translate it. So, the translation is as good as we can make it. But, of course, we need more of their lingo to be able to build a better language base for these aliens.”

  He paused. Then called, “Andromeda?”

  “One moment, please Captain. Ok, this is the message.”

  Sector Two to control. We have reached the intruder, we must have additional orders, please.

  Ten seconds passed, then.

  Control to Sector two. Scan and transmit all the intruder's available data, then terminate its existence.

  A cavalcade of weird sounds rattled through the sound system, followed by a long pause, then.

  The intruder has jumped. We are following it.

  Another pause.

  One more attack should finish it. Wait. It’s jumped again. The intruder is either foolishly wasting power or being very cunning.

  OK, we are following it again.

  Yet another pause, then only static could be heard.

  Sector two, this is Command. Acknowledge. Sector two. Acknowledge. Another pause, then.

  Command to Fleet. Prepare to engage. The jump coordinates will follow via the link. Maintain communication silence.

  “That's the end of their transmission Captain.”

  “Now you can see why we must leave, Alan. Andromeda has calculated that we have less than six hours before we must be in transit.”

  “OK, then I’d better have a look at the latest debris that's been brought on board.”

  “Fine,” Frank replied.

  After Alan left, he directed his thoughts to Andromeda. ‘Let me have your evaluation of the situation, and possible solutions please,’ he ordered.

  “Yes Frank,” she replied out loud.

  Then a few seconds later Frank asked why he felt there was something wrong with the air.

  ‘Just a glitch, Captain.’

  ‘Please explain?’

  ‘Well, you know that we bond different molecules together to generate food, air, water, and so on.’

  ‘Yes, I know all about protein-bonding. And how three molecules, like two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom, make up a water molecule. Get to the point?

  ‘Well, the last battle put my synthesizers out of sync.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Do you know the complexity in bonding so many different atoms together in such a large quantity?’

  ‘Yes, and?’

  ‘Well, I’m nearly back to norm.’

  ‘Glad to hear that. I’m starting to feel hungry.’

  ‘Ten more minutes and food will be fit to eat.

  ‘Sit back and relax Frank.’ Andromeda suggested, her voice, in his mind, sounding soft and soothing.

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t keep going from calling me Captain, to calling Frank when you feel like it… It’s not logical.’

  Then he sat back on the couch that had risen from the floor to meet him and closed his eyes for a moment. It occurred to him how pleasant Andromeda’s voice was. It sounded feminine now, but, of course, when it wished the computer could change between masculine and feminine.

  Something came drifting back to his mind, he wasn’t sure just what it was. But at times like this, when he forced himself to relax, Andromeda seemed to be inside his mind, something different, and something gentle. Not just the jungle of Andromeda’s electronic circuits. He couldn’t explain it.

  ‘W
e are in good shape,’ continued the voice inside him. ‘The power banks and converters are all at go.’

  A patch of green soothing light began to swell in his mind.

  ‘Frank. I think the Hawk was destroyed because it located the alien’s home system. However, the tape only indicates this; it doesn't confirm it.’

  ‘Why would they attack the Hawk?’ He wondered as his mind peered at the now stationary patch. It looked beautiful, shining like a gigantic green emerald.

  ‘I think the Hawk’s Captain wouldn’t give Earth’s location to the alien. Why I don’t know. Perhaps it was the alien's personal attitude to other races. However, for their own safety, this would leave the alien ship with no alternative but to destroy the Hawk and any other Earth vessel.’

  Such a beautiful color, he thought. It’s like the centre, a heart of…, yes. Like a heartbeat.

  ‘The aliens are stronger than we are,’ Andromeda said, her voice in his mind interrupting his thoughts.

  ‘I'm sure they can follow us through warp space. We won't be able to outrun them, and their home system is definitely not in this area. I believe it's pointless to think that advanced life existed around Procyon. If it did, then the aliens would have ended it, or worse still they could be in control. I’m sure they must have considered any advanced life-form would be dangerous to them, even before our contact,’ Andromeda finished.

  “Captain, the weapon's department has a question,” Andromeda suddenly said out loud.

  “What is it?”

  “Mark Trask has asked for verification of his theory that the alien’s warp-energy is channelled back through their ship’s centre, where it's then converted into low-value Antimatter.”

  “Why low-value?”

  “If it were pure, then the Hawk would have been entirely consumed.”

  “And your answer?”

  “With special magnetic fields, it is possible. That would explain the central hollow tube which we thought was a lifeboat launcher.”

  “That makes excellent sense. Let Mark know that we agree it's a possibility, but to keep on exploring the subject. Please ask Alan to join me now, Andromeda.”

  The green crystal ‘patch,' previously seen in Frank's mind, had now gone, as he continued talking with Andromeda.

  “So, what are our options? First. To stay, would be suicide. Second. Return to Earth is too high a risk, without knowing the 'safe' time difference required to ensure the aliens couldn’t follow. Third. To go on, in the hope that a solution can be found.”

  “I suggest that we go on, Frank,” ventured Andromeda, then added, “Alan is here.”

  “I agree. We'll take the third option. Ok, send Alan in, then plot out a search pattern around Procyon. Oh, and order the communication's department to re-program everyone’s translator units to include the alien’s lingo.”

  Alan came in, barely making a sound as the door opened and closed silently behind him.

  “I won’t be a moment, Alan,” he said.

  Then, “Andromeda. Check on that!”

  The whole ship shuddered and creaked as her screens showed stars spinning around crazily in space. The screens then gradually fading into darkness. Men floated about in their cabins, bouncing from one wall to another, sending them into fits of sickness.

  Matrix gravity control had gone, and so too had Andromeda’s power.

  Awareness came slowly to him as he heard a distant voice getting louder with every passing second. “Frank,” it repeated, over and over. At last, he forced his eyes open and looked for the source. The room was pitch black, and the voice had now ceased. He listened. Not a sound. As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he knew things were desperate.

  The screens were dead, and he couldn't hear the usual constant hiss of the air supply. Meaning that oxygen was not being fed to the rooms. His head throbbed, and he felt sick as he staggered to his feet.

  “Andromeda,” he called. “What happened?”

  There was silence.

  “Andromeda,” he called again.

  Still no answer. The ship was inoperative.

  He started towards the door, each step taking him two or three feet off the floor.

  ‘We must be slowly rotating’ he thought. ‘So, there is some gravity.’

  “Frank,” a voice called out behind him. “Over here.”

  “Alan! Are you all right?”

  “I think so, what happened?”

  “I don’t know. The ship is dead, and we’ll be dead as well in about an hour if we can’t get the oxygen feed restored.”

  “What can we do?” Alan croaked.

  “I’ll try the emergency control board first. We appear to have a total power loss, which was never anticipated.”

  “You mean we're in a virtual tomb?”

  “Not quite. There are some old space suits stored in the corridor lockers. They'll give us another four hours of life support.”

  “That’s not long,” muttered Alan, now standing beside him.

  Frank said nothing. But turned and headed for the door, operating the manual emergency handle to open it. Outside, the corridor was also in darkness; the air was thinner, and smelt of machinery and other unpleasant odours that were, usually, removed by the air purification system.

  “Tell everyone to put on those old space suits, Alan,” Frank ordered.

  “Okay. But couldn’t we just manually bye-pass the oxygen valves?”

  “Good idea. See to it first.”

  Even as he spoke, he knew it was the wrong move. He was aware that this was his second mistake.

  “Wait! Alan.”

  “What is it?”

  “Can you remember how many times you called out my name before I regained consciousness in the control room?”

  “Only once, why?”

  “I heard my name being called over and over, then when I stood up…,” Frank paused. “I made my first mistake. I shouted Andromeda’s name. I shouted it out loud.”

  “So?”

  “Don’t you see? When I agreed to your suggestion to manually bye-pass the oxygen control valves, I knew it was my second mistake.”

  “I still don’t understand,” reiterated Alan. “We’ve got to protect ourselves.”

  “Exactly,” returned Frank. “In both cases, I would have been creating noise.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Noise would be a dangerous thing. If there are 'visitors' outside capable of detecting minute changes in magnetic flux, or, ripples in the black matter connecting everything. Then, any noise, even in space, is the last thing we need.”

  “I see. So, Andromeda deliberately caused the power failure to protect us.”

  “Yes, and Andromeda can’t communicate with us now. Because she knows that the magnetic field created by the power needed to communicate would, in turn, cause noise that could be detected by the alien’s ship.”

  “Yes! Of course.”

  “All right. So, Alan, you go and get the men. Tell them to bring their suits as well, in case we need them. Be sure to keep everything quiet.”

  “Okay, Frank. Where will you be?”

  “I’ll be back in the control room, removing the false wall that covers the small emergency window.”

  The emergency window was the only window in the ship and was situated in the forward part of the control room. It was hidden behind a removable plastic wall that, usually, made up part of the leaf green décor. The window was made of thick, armoured 'atom' glass and had its own force field emitter, which, with the lack of power, was out of operation now, of course.

  The first thing that came into Frank’s view from the control room window was a large group of boulders floating just outside the ship and blocking out most of the stars.

  The Andromeda was now in the middle of an asteroid belt.

  Between the light grey asteroids, the stars flickered like jewels casting their light into the room. Then, as he watched, tiny specks of light from far outside the asteroid belt moved a
cross his vision. He had counted at least seven before they vanished from view.

  ‘So,’ he thought. ‘Those aliens are searching for us.’

  Alan came into the room wearing a spacesuit, with its helmet swung back over his shoulder and another one over his arm. “Your suit Frank,” he murmured.

  “Thanks,” Frank returned, taking it from him. “I’ve counted at least seven of these ships searching for us out there.”

  “No wonder we’re hiding.”

  Frank smiled. Inwardly thinking of Andromeda’s action, and the speed of which she found a hiding place when the enemy emerged.

  “Come to that,” Frank said. “How did we get here without being followed? The aliens must have seen us when we jumped.”

  “I don't understand it either Frank. They should have found us by now. We should all be dead.”

  “I agree. But they're still out there, looking.”

  “Then, we’re still in trouble,” Alan replied.

  Frank sighed, thinking to himself, he’s always pessimistic.

  Through the window, he could see that the seven points of light he had seen a short time ago had gone.

  “What is it?” Alan asked, fearing the worst.

  “Nothing.”

  Power returned to the ship as suddenly as it had left, and he felt Andromeda at his side once more. 'Thank God for that,' he thought.

  “Alan, help me set the window panel back in. Then leave us,” he ordered. “Andromeda and I have some thinking to do.”

  As soon as the panel was back in place, Alan went, and Frank lay down on the still extended couch.

  “Andromeda, give me your report, please, including the status of our crew.”

  “Thankfully, everyone’s fine. As you know, it was essential to seek an instantaneous hiding place as we are no match for the alien’s vessels.

  So, as you can see, we are hiding in a group of asteroids covering almost two million cubic kilometres. But, the alien’s ships are searching this quadrant and have been intersecting our 'last known' visual time co-ordinates every two hours. Therefore, we must quickly make a move before they find us.”