Chapter Thirteen
"You're bringing all that?" Molly asked as she approached with her suitcase.
John glanced at his two bags and violin case. "Well, I'm traveling with Sherlock, so…"
Molly laughed. "True."
John glanced around at the remote government building. "So, this is where England has been hiding Area 51."
"Doesn't look like much, does it?" said Molly, looking up at the three-story, plain white building.
"That's probably the idea," said Greg as he opened the lobby door and stepped out. He looked down at the three cases on the pavement next to John. "Sherlock bored?"
John chuckled. "That's the idea."
Greg grabbed one of the suitcases as John lifted the violin case and the second suitcase, and the three of them headed into the building, Greg grabbing his own bag with his other hand.
A man in a suit was waiting at the other end of the lobby. "Right this way, lady and gentlemen." He turned and led them to the lifts, using his keycard to call it.
Once all three were inside, the man pressed the button labeled "-3."
John smiled slightly at the memory of Baskerville and everything that had happened there. It had been a case they had taken between John finding out Sherlock was an alien and the whole nasty business with Moriarty. They had gone to Dartmoor to investigate the army base, where Sherlock then engaged in testing his theory by drugging John and playing with the lights to disorient him.
Highly unlikely to happen here, John. Not to worry.
John laughed as that thought floated through his head. If he tried hard enough, he could hear Sherlock's voice in it.
"What?" asked Greg.
John glanced at him with an amused smile. "Nothing. Just thinking."
Greg frowned a moment and then looked away as the lift doors opened. The man in the suit led them out and through the halls before stopping in front of what looked like a bank vault. Two guards stood on either side of it.
The man in the suit placed his thumb on a scanner as another one scanned his eye. "Shatner, 78341."
The door chimed, and Shatner stepped back as the door swung open. In front of them was a wide, sloped hallway that led down to another level. The four of them headed down the ramp and emerged into a gigantic room.
Molly froze, her eyes widening in shock as her mouth fell open.
Greg stopped in his tracks, his gaze riveted up at the room.
John's jaw dropped as his eyes took in what was in the room.
"Holy…" Greg breathed out in a whisper.
The room was the height of a six-story warehouse the size of Parliament, and in the very center was a spaceship. It was a sleek vessel with sharp, aerodynamic angles and was a deep red—almost a burgundy. It was almost reminiscent of an hourglass: a narrow portion in the middle with a top that pointed out in three directions—each of the three arms ending in what almost looked like propulsion units of some kind—and a bottom that branched out into three smaller landing braces. A lit-up ramp extended between two of the legs, leading up to a bright doorway. It was nothing like the flying saucers you saw in the tabloids.
And it was four stories tall.
"Welcome to MI-7."
John glanced down to see Mycroft approaching them.
Mycroft stepped up and gestured towards the ship. "May I present the T'Plana-Hath."
(Yes, this is the Vulcan ship from First Contact with Zefram Cochrane.)
John stepped forward next to Mycroft. "MI-7, eh?"
"Only sixteen humans know of its existence, and they are all in this room," Mycroft told him.
"Well, don't I feel special," John muttered, stepping towards the ship. "Listen, erm…how long will this trip take?"
"Twenty-four days until we rendezvous with the T'Lana Hamac and another twenty-four until we reach Vulcan," Mycroft replied, walking next to John.
"About a month and a half," John muttered. "Fantastic."
"Yes," said Mycroft. "Good thing you brought those books."
"Good thing," agreed John, knowing exactly how Mycroft had deduced that. "When do we launch?"
"One hour," Mycroft replied as they reached the ramp. He glanced back to see Molly and Greg a few steps behind them. "The ship has plenty of stores for the journey, an…admittedly complex laundering system, capabilities for—"
"Hold on, Mycroft," said John, pausing in front of the ramp and narrowing his eyes at a portion of the ship on one of the hanging arms above them. "You might want to get that fixed first."
Mycroft frowned and moved so he could see what John was looking at.
"The nacelle is out of alignment," John told him.
Mycroft's jaw clenched as he turned towards a white-coated man. "Dr. Kelley, I trust you'll have this fixed immediately?"
"Yes, sir," the man told him, nodding at John. "Thank you for pointing it out."
John nodded back as the man moved away. "Although, it wasn't technically me…" He stepped up onto the ramp and into the ship.
Mycroft followed along with Greg and Molly. "Living quarters are—"
John was already heading down a corridor on the right. It just felt so familiar to him. This must have been the ship that brought Sherlock here.
Greg and Molly, meanwhile, were gazing in wide-eyed amazement at the white corridors as they followed John. After another two turns, they came to a stop at a grouping of five doors.
Mycroft stepped up to one on the left. "Dr. Hooper, your quarters." He gestured to the door.
Molly stepped towards it, looking for some kind of handle or a panel, when it suddenly slid open like one of the automatic doors on the lobby at St. Bart's. "Oh!" She laughed a little as she stepped inside.
"Inspector," said Mycroft as he gestured to the door next to it.
Greg approached his quarters, watching the door open.
"John," said Mycroft, pointing to one on the right. "Make yourselves at home and familiarize yourselves with the ship. If you'd be interested, I can arrange for you to be on the bridge at launch."
"Oh, definitely," said John. "Sounds exciting."
"Very well," Mycroft replied, glancing at his watch. "I will see you again in forty-nine minutes." With that, he headed back down the corridor.
John approached his door as Molly and Greg disappeared into their own rooms. The door slid open, and John stepped inside, letting the door close behind him. It was a frankly sparse room, occupied only by a table and two chairs, a bed, and what appeared to be a bathroom area behind a door in the corner. It wasn't much, but for two months, it would do.
John placed his suitcase on the bed and set the violin case next to it. He then went back to the door to retrieve the bag Greg had carried. This one, he placed next to the table, opening it to pull his laptop out and set it on the table. He then immediately turned to hurry for the door, that unquenchable curiosity demanding he investigate the ship. Once the door slid open, he found Molly approaching it.
Molly stopped in the middle of the hall. "Oh, I was just coming to see if you'd like to see the rest of the ship with me."
"Absolutely," John replied. "I don't think I can sit still for forty-five minutes."
Molly laughed as the door to Greg's room opened.
"We're going to see the rest of the ship," John abruptly told him. "Come on." He then immediately headed past them down the hall.
Greg and Molly exchanged a smile as Greg muttered. "Right away, your detective-ness."
That sent Molly into a fit of laughter, which caused John to stop and turn back.
"What?" asked John.
"Oh, nothing," laughed Molly as she calmed down and stepped past him.
John frowned as he watched her go and then looked at Greg as the man stepped up next to him. "I did something Sherlock-like, didn't I?"
Greg clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, you did, mate." He followed after Molly.
The three of them spent the next half hour exploring the ship, finding a dining area, library (although, it was all electronic), recreation area, a common room (much like a lounge) and several standard areas of the ship (engineering, medical facility, the brig). And just before they entered each room, John was able to name them. Thanks to Sherlock, he was almost as knowledgeable about the ship's layout as Mycroft was.
Greg glanced at his watch. "They're launching in ten minutes. Reckon we should head back."
"Probably," Molly agreed. "It's not every day you get to see a spaceship in action, let alone one you're on."
John suddenly burst into laughter, a smile on his face.
Greg watched him a moment, smiling. "What?"
John let out a sigh as he shook his head. "Sherlock…the things we get into because of him."
Greg laughed as the three of them headed back to the corridor outside their quarters. It was only a moment before Mycroft rounded the corner.
"If you will follow me," he stated, turning back around to lead them towards the bridge.
John stepped up next to Mycroft. "They did realign the nacelle, yes?"
"Of course," said Mycroft as they walked.
"Right," said John, looking up at him. "What is a nacelle?"
Mycroft glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "You don't already know?"
"Well, it's not like Sherlock's mind is a book I can open and find out, now, is it?" John told him. "Impulses, remember? Personality quirks, behavioral glitches…"
"The nacelles provide our propulsion," Mycroft informed him. "Specifically, the warp drive."
"Right, warp," said Greg. "What is that?"
"The ability of a starship to travel faster than light," Mycroft replied. "It's a relatively new concept."
"Right, you said something about Warp 4," John supplied.
"There are five categories of engine speed," Mycroft continued as they stepped up to a door marked "Turbolift," and it slid open. "Impulse, Warp 1, Warp 2, Warp 3 and Warp 4."
They stepped inside, and Mycroft pressed a button.
"Bridge," said Mycroft, releasing the button and turning to them. "Impulse reaches speeds of 74,350 kilometers per second, whereas Warp 4 allows us to travel one light year in three days."
"Wow," said Molly. "That's amazing."
"Not as amazing as it will be in a hundred years, I'm sure," said Mycroft. "I have no doubt that one day, starships will be capable of Warp 10."
The door of the lift slid open onto what had to be the bridge. The walls were practically lined with monitors and consoles. Two consoles jutted up from the floor at what must have been the front of the bridge, and a few feet behind them sat a large chair, almost in the center of the room. At the front of the bridge was a large view screen that took up the whole wall, and it was showing the large laboratory the ship was sitting in. Five people were meandering around the room, double-checking settings and various other parameters as they prepared for liftoff.
"My God…" said Greg as Mycroft stepped onto the bridge.
"Dr. Koenig," called Mycroft as John, Greg and Molly stepped out of the lift.
A man in a jumpsuit reminiscent of an astronaut's turned towards him. "Yes, Mr. Holmes."
"I trust everything is under way?" Mycroft asked.
"Yes, sir," said Koenig. "Right on schedule."
"Excellent," said Mycroft before turning towards the three of them and motioning to some empty consoles at the back of the bridge. "Take a seat."
John sat in one of the seats bolted to the floor as Greg and Molly sat on either side of him. He was looking all over his seat and around him but not finding what he was looking for.
"John?" Mycroft asked, noticing the doctor's searching.
"Shouldn't there be restraints?" asked John. "Or maybe a seatbelt, at least?"
"Oh, no need," Mycroft told him.
"Really?" asked John skeptically.
"This is a starship, John, not Apollo 13," Mycroft replied. He then moved over to the large chair in the middle of the room, obviously meant to be the captain's chair. "Five minutes, everyone. I want a last run-through of the systems."
The five jump-suited people in the room each moved to a console at his words: two to the two consoles in front, one to a console on the left, one to a console on the right, and one to the console next to the three civilians. Mycroft sat down in the captain's chair, watching the progress in the lab through the view screen.
"Can you believe this?" said Molly excitedly. "We're actually on a spaceship! I mean, every kid thinks astronauts are cool, but how many of them actually make it onto a mission into space? We're going to be the first humans to set food onto another planet! Well, there was Sherlock's father—"
"Oh, Molly, please do stop," John gritted out in annoyance. He then grimaced. "Sorry."
"It's okay," Molly assured him. "I'm used to it."
"Yeah, from Sherlock, not me," John told her.
"Well, same difference right now, yes?" Molly pointed out.
John still didn't look any more comfortable about it.
"Look," said Molly as she turned a little more towards him, "don't fight it."
John frowned in confusion.
"This katra business," Molly went on. "It's a fusion of your mind and Sherlock's, yes?"
John nodded.
"Well, how does Sherlock react when someone starts butting heads with him?" Molly asked.
John's eyes trailed over to the floor as he thought back to every heated interaction between Sherlock and someone who argued with or hated him: Donovan, Anderson, Sebastian Wilkes, DI Dimmock, Major Barrymore.
John smiled absently a little as he realized what the problem was. "He pushes back."
"Exactly," said Molly. "Sherlock is uncomfortable with opposition of any kind, so he deals with it the only way he can: by digging his heels in and fighting back. So, quit fighting him, however subconsciously you're doing it."
John stared at her for a moment before looking away. Could it really be that simple?
"Ship secure. All decks ready."
John glanced up at the voice of Koenig, over at the left console.
The man next to them, whose jumpsuit read "Nichols," turned away from his console and towards Mycroft, his hand held to a strange earpiece in his ear. "Secure link with ground control and the T'Lana Hamac."
The woman at the front left console, her jumpsuit labeling her "Takei," spoke up. "The T'Lana Hamac's location is laid in. Course plotted."
The man at the front station next to her, Doohan, chimed in. "Engines operating at maximum, sir."
The woman at the station on the right side of the bridge, Nimoy, turned towards Mycroft. "Orbiting satellites blind. Ready for launch."
Mycroft nodded once. "Commence launch."
Communications Officer Nichols turned back to his monitors next to them. "Ground control, we are commencing launch. Open launch doors."
"On screen," commanded Mycroft.
Nichols pressed a button, and the view screen at the front of the bridge changed. The view of the room in front of the ship changed to one of a set of massive doors slowly sliding open. They opened on a night sky, the moon just visible in the corner of the screen.
"My God, we're really doing this," muttered Greg.
The launch doors slid all the way open, leaving a gaping hole in the roof.
"Ahead at one quarter impulse," said Mycroft, leaning back nonchalantly in his seat. "Full impulse once we're clear of the structure. Engage."
John gripped onto the edge of the seat under him, suddenly wishing they came with armrests. Engineering Officer Doohan at the front reached forward and pressed a button on his console. A hum vibrated up from beneath their feet and enveloped the bridge. The view of the doors quickly moved towards them, giving John a sense of misperception.
Here he was with the visual evidence that they were moving forward, and yet, there was no great shuddering, no blast under their feet; there wasn't even a release of momentum like when you get pushed back into your seat after putting your foot on the gas pedal in the car. There was no physical sensation of moving whatsoever. For all he knew, they were still sitting in the building, watching a video.
The night sky suddenly zoomed towards them, the stars becoming clear instead of twinkling through the atmosphere.
My God, the atmosphere… John thought. We've left the atmosphere…
As though reading his thoughts, the view screen was changed to what must have been the view behind them. The Earth filled the screen, clouds drifting over the surface, as it slowly became smaller. The next moment, space filled the edges of the screen as the Earth became just small enough to fit inside it. It then came to a stop.
"We are clear of orbit," Navigation Officer Takei said.
"Satellites back online," Security Officer Koenig said and then looked towards Mycroft. "They did not detect us."
"Warp availability at your command," said Engineering Officer Doohan.
"Warp 4, engage," said Mycroft.
Doohan hit a button on his console, and the hum began once again, increasing in pitch. The view of the Earth seemed to stretch and elongate, the stars around it becoming white lines. The next second, the Earth shot away from them, becoming smaller by the second.
"Approximately twenty-four days and nine hours until rendezvous with the T'Lana Hamac," Takei reported.
Mycroft stood from his seat. "Thank you, Dr. Takei." He walked over to John, Greg and Molly, who stood from their seats. "I gather this experience was to your satisfaction."
"Oh, yes," Molly told him with a smile. "Definitely worth it."
"Good," said Mycroft, turning towards Nichols. "Ahead view."
Nichols flicked a switch, changing the view screen—which was now showing a miniscule, shrinking blue dot—to a view of the oncoming star field. "Begin shift rotations. Team Beta, you have the bridge." He nodded at Koenig.
Koenig nodded back at his captain and then moved to the command chair while Nichols and Takei vacated their posts and headed for the lift.
Mycroft looked back at the three of them. "If you will follow me, I will show you to the cafeteria. It's about time for dinner, I imagine."
Yes, every crew member is named for the cast of the original Star Trek (including Dr. Kelley in the lab and the guard Shatner—like you didn't already figure that one out). Giving my props to the masters.