Last Call -- Chapter 4: Small Amusements
A neon green wire frame of the EAS Toledo spun slowly in midair,
projected from the blueprints uploaded to the map room. An oval dais
held the projection unit and its lighted top illuminated the paper
blueprints scrolled open. Two empty mugs stolen from the conference
room and a palmtop computer weighted down the corners. Captain Gideon's
hand kept the fourth corner down as he glanced back and forth between
the blueprints and the 3-D display.
The Toledo was simple in its design; a saucer-like unit for command and
the modest crew quarters, immediately flanked by three long tubular
sections stacked like a collapsed tripod along the core. Quad engines
powered the craft and make it jump gate capable, but nothing guarded it
against attack. Freighters didn't have weapons as a rule, relying on
escort ships for defense of its cargo, especially if the cargo was
expensive or in great need.
A rustle of paper made Gideon look up from the plans, his eyes leveling
on an engineering tech in discussion with Lieutenant Matheson as they
walked in from command. The tech was Jaime Gomez, that much the Captain
knew. Gomez was in his late fifties or early sixties, silver taking
over nearly all of the dark hair of his mustache and short crew cut.
Dressed in utility overalls flecked with grease and dust, they held the
insignia of Chief, a position that oversaw the rest of the engineering
staff.
"Find something, Mister Gomez?" Gideon looked on expectantly as the
tech thumbed through his papers, assisted by Matheson to bring them to
the dais.
"I've gone over every speck of equipment the Toledo was packed with, and
not much of that would have remained through the decommission process.
I don't know what could be used to track her. She has a standard drive
with standard emissions like thousands of other Earthforce ships. And
because she's not a tactical craft, her com systems would have been
standardized with just a few modifications to encode or decode gold
channel signals. That section would have been stripped first.
"She was built to be low key-like a space-faring pachyderm-carry cargo,
a minimal complement of crew, and enough fuel to take her half-way
around the universe. The drive cores were immense…." Gomez paused,
lifting a hand to rub the side of his thumb along the corner of his
mustache. Thin eyebrows knitted together as he thought, his eyes
unseeing as he stared absently at the dais.
"Mister Gomez?"
"Captain, you said she was leaking radiation?"
"That's what the distress call stated anyway, but the pilot said levels
were low."
"That was most likely an internal reading. Unless there was a hull
breech in command," Gomez pointed to the saucer-like section, "not much
more than normal levels would be observed. That whole area is
shielded."
"But if there was a hull breech in the engine section, radiation would
filling the immediate area." Gideon continued, pointing to the engines
as he circled his finger around the hind end of the display.
"And by what Lieutenant Matheson tells me about the interference, that
could be the cause." Gomez nodded his head. "But I'm afraid that will
only work under closer range. There's too much additional radiation out
here to reliably try to track a leak plume from one particular ship."
"What amounts of radiation are we talking?"
"Depends on the severity of the breech. Could be just a few parts per
million to several billion parts. Although if the engines were really
damaged, I doubt the crew would be around to send a distress call."
"How come?" Gideon lifted his hand from the blueprint as he crossed his
arms over his chest, keeping a hip against the dais for balance.
"If there was a good breech to the engine core, the ship would have
blown nearly instantaneously."
"So it's a slow leak and one that is nearly impossible to trace."
Gideon didn't look happy.
"Correct, Captain. I'm sorry it's not what you wanted to hear." Gomez
shrugged, slipping his papers back into their folder. When finished, he
tucked it beneath his arm.
"No, that's all right. You've helped me the best you could, Mister
Gomez. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Captain. Let me know if I can be of any further
assistance."
With a nod, Gideon dismissed the engineer and turned back to the
display. Playfully he poked his finger into the shape. The image
dispersed briefly from the disruption, but quickly reformed the wire
frame. Even though the items on the counter's surface blocked the
projector, the display could be sent though it all depending on
thickness and content. Matthew's hand was merely a small dispersion of
the signal as it found its way either through or around the tissue and
bone. He could barely feel the tingling sensation of the power; just a
slight tickling itched his skin. With a gentle strum of his fingers,
the image rippled again but did not disappear, having discovered the
frequency to project through living flesh.
"Captain, should I adjust the scanners to pick up on the fuel core
emissions anyway?" Matheson stood at Gideon's right, watching as the
Captain played with the projection.
"Negative. Gomez believes we are too far away for it to be any good.
We'll just have to head in the general direction that Galen told us and
hope more clues are forthcoming." Done with amusing himself, Gideon
shut off the projection.
They scrolled the blueprints again, removing the weights. The
Lieutenant received his palmtop back and Gideon took the two mugs in his
hand, the ceramic chiming softly as they gently collided. Taking a half
dozen steps to the closed doors of the conference room, Matthew pressed
a sensor on the key pad. The dual doors of the pocket hatch slid open,
revealing the empty room. The coffee carafe and tray from earlier had
been removed, and along with it, all the mugs. Gideon looked at the
bare table and frowned.
"Lieutenant, since when has the commissary staff been so efficient?"
The Captain called over his shoulder.
"Sir, it has been three hours since you requested the coffee. I'm sure
they felt you were done with it." Matheson's smile barely curled his
lips as he watched Gideon sigh. The Captain turned on a heel and
shrugged, walking back into the map room.
"I guess I'll take them back and get something to eat while I'm at it."
Gideon's stomach growled in agreement, having gone too long between
meals. Dinner the previous night had come and gone before Gideon
realized he had missed it, his concentration on reports that were past
due.
"Might I suggest the oatmeal, sir?" Matheson's smile widened as he
presented his usual take on the morning's fare. Gideon had relieved the
Lieutenant of his duties before Gomez made his report, knowing the first
officer could use a break. Gideon's expression soured at his dim
prospects for a decent breakfast.
"That bad?" Matheson nodded bleakly in response. "I guess I could
always find a few toast crusts to gnaw on if I have to."
"It might be better now, sir, with the shift change."
"Here's hoping." Gideon started walking into command, towards the
corridor and hatch that would take him to the below decks, but
Matheson's hand moving to the com at his ear made him pause. The
Lieutenant looked vacantly at the floor as he concentrated on the
message he was receiving.
"Don't tell me I'm going to have to go without breakfast, Lieutenant.
It's the most important meal of the day and you know what I'm like if I
don't get a good breakfast." Gideon's annoyance was fringed with
sarcasm as he raised his hand with the mugs to shake a finger at
Matheson.
"I'm sorry sir, but communications is picking up on something."
Matheson's eyebrows lifted in surprise as the final half of the message
came though. "It's possibly the Toledo."
"Why didn't you say so?" Quickly Gideon moved to the command chair,
handing off the mugs to a passing junior officer. Without questioning,
he took the mugs from the Captain, confused as to why he was receiving
them.
"Analysis shows they are similar to the signals Galen received. Playing
amplified message now, sir." At Matheson's order, static filled
command, punctuated by brief lapses in signal. The technicians were
already working to clean up the transmission and slowly the white noise
disappeared into a muffled voice. Even through the interference, it was
the same as the one Galen had recorded.
"Are we too far out of range to send a reply?"
"Not sure, sir. We could make the attempt."
"Yes. Record the following message-Excalibur to Toledo. Message
received and attempting to intercept. Advise on current status. End."
Gideon waited for the communications officer to end the recording.
"Send out in five minute intervals and keep the line open in case they
try to reply on the same frequency."
*~*~*~*
The ball hung in the air before him, its red polished surface reflecting
a trace amount of light from the power globe above his head. With
hardly a thought, he made it spin on an imaginary axis, to revolve at a
lumbering pace. A second ball came into existence beside its twin and
its revolution began counterclockwise. As the two red balls spun in
opposite directions, a third came into being, this time white with a
green stripe along its longitudinal circumference.
Within his mind's eye, Galen controlled each ball with a long-practiced
technique, honed to perfection. It didn't take much for the balls to
remain separate in his mind, his thoughts repeating each conjured
equation for size, shape, and motion to all the objects as they spun and
hovered in the air.
Releasing a deep breath, he added another equation that sent the red
balls spinning in an upright figure eight while the white ball circled
around the mid point. It gave the conjuring the appearance of a double
handled globe when the objects moved fast enough that his eyes couldn't
differentiate the shapes. Concentrating on the white and green ball, he
added the equation for color change on those for size, shape, and
motion, allowing the center to fade into purple, then orange, then
yellow, and finally back to purple.
Beyond the dizzying pace of the conjured objects before him, Galen
accessed his ship's scanners though the connection made by his implants,
and monitored the incoming information. Internal consoles appeared
beside the conjured images, scrolling information from the external
sensors and the thousands of probes he had planted in various areas
throughout the Excalibur. Bullet cars, corridors, transport tubes,
tactical stations, and even the cleaning crew's cart weren't free from
the nanoprobes that remained like silent sentinels over the crew.
He accessed a favored probe, giving him a glimpse into Dureena Nafeel's
quarters. Galen had placed it on the paneling above the vid console,
allowing her a small amount of privacy from the short angle recording.
Dureena sat in one of her low wooden chairs, sipping at a mug of tea
while she read an electronic novel, using a finger to tap-scroll through
the document on the palmtop. Not wanting his spying to approach the
verge of voyeurism, Galen moved on, checking Medbay and Doctor Chambers
before moving on to Max Eilerson.
Paying too much attention to the probes had loosened his control on the
balls slightly, their revolutions and spinnings beginning to degrade.
With renewed concentration, Galen added the equation for fire, giving
the balls the illusion of being set ablaze. The effect was spectacular;
the conjuring was almost life-like in the level of detail Galen had put
into it. Each flame rippled, swirling around as the balls gyrated,
engulfing till only darkened ash was beneath.
Galen accessed the probe he had placed at the foot of Gideon's chair in
command. The angle made the Captain seem huge in appearance, towering
above the recording, and Galen smirked. The intercepted transmission
said the same as what the Technomage had accessed through the probe; the
Excalibur had finally picked up the Toledo's signal for analysis. Galen
watched as Gideon sent back a confirmation message, in hope it wasn't
too late.
"Excellent, Matthew." The Technomage commented to the objects revolving
and burning before him. Satisfied to the degree of complexity he had
put into the conjuring, Galen dismissed it, releasing a slow breath from
his lips across them. Gradually the image in the air disappeared like
grains of sand being blown from slate till the last of the ash faded
into nothing.
"I suppose now we just sit back and wait." Taking a moment to stretch
the muscles in his neck and between his shoulders, Galen closed his eyes
and thought of a new object to conjure, his mind deciding on one of
Dureena's daggers.
"Yes, yes, this will do nicely." Gradually the curved blade took form
in the darkness, the light leather of the hilt imprinted with the strong
grip of its owner. Keeping the point transfixed downward in his mind,
Galen added the equation for circular motion and the hilt began to
rotate in a wide ellipse, spinning like a top above its apex.
A neon green wire frame of the EAS Toledo spun slowly in midair,
projected from the blueprints uploaded to the map room. An oval dais
held the projection unit and its lighted top illuminated the paper
blueprints scrolled open. Two empty mugs stolen from the conference
room and a palmtop computer weighted down the corners. Captain Gideon's
hand kept the fourth corner down as he glanced back and forth between
the blueprints and the 3-D display.
The Toledo was simple in its design; a saucer-like unit for command and
the modest crew quarters, immediately flanked by three long tubular
sections stacked like a collapsed tripod along the core. Quad engines
powered the craft and make it jump gate capable, but nothing guarded it
against attack. Freighters didn't have weapons as a rule, relying on
escort ships for defense of its cargo, especially if the cargo was
expensive or in great need.
A rustle of paper made Gideon look up from the plans, his eyes leveling
on an engineering tech in discussion with Lieutenant Matheson as they
walked in from command. The tech was Jaime Gomez, that much the Captain
knew. Gomez was in his late fifties or early sixties, silver taking
over nearly all of the dark hair of his mustache and short crew cut.
Dressed in utility overalls flecked with grease and dust, they held the
insignia of Chief, a position that oversaw the rest of the engineering
staff.
"Find something, Mister Gomez?" Gideon looked on expectantly as the
tech thumbed through his papers, assisted by Matheson to bring them to
the dais.
"I've gone over every speck of equipment the Toledo was packed with, and
not much of that would have remained through the decommission process.
I don't know what could be used to track her. She has a standard drive
with standard emissions like thousands of other Earthforce ships. And
because she's not a tactical craft, her com systems would have been
standardized with just a few modifications to encode or decode gold
channel signals. That section would have been stripped first.
"She was built to be low key-like a space-faring pachyderm-carry cargo,
a minimal complement of crew, and enough fuel to take her half-way
around the universe. The drive cores were immense…." Gomez paused,
lifting a hand to rub the side of his thumb along the corner of his
mustache. Thin eyebrows knitted together as he thought, his eyes
unseeing as he stared absently at the dais.
"Mister Gomez?"
"Captain, you said she was leaking radiation?"
"That's what the distress call stated anyway, but the pilot said levels
were low."
"That was most likely an internal reading. Unless there was a hull
breech in command," Gomez pointed to the saucer-like section, "not much
more than normal levels would be observed. That whole area is
shielded."
"But if there was a hull breech in the engine section, radiation would
filling the immediate area." Gideon continued, pointing to the engines
as he circled his finger around the hind end of the display.
"And by what Lieutenant Matheson tells me about the interference, that
could be the cause." Gomez nodded his head. "But I'm afraid that will
only work under closer range. There's too much additional radiation out
here to reliably try to track a leak plume from one particular ship."
"What amounts of radiation are we talking?"
"Depends on the severity of the breech. Could be just a few parts per
million to several billion parts. Although if the engines were really
damaged, I doubt the crew would be around to send a distress call."
"How come?" Gideon lifted his hand from the blueprint as he crossed his
arms over his chest, keeping a hip against the dais for balance.
"If there was a good breech to the engine core, the ship would have
blown nearly instantaneously."
"So it's a slow leak and one that is nearly impossible to trace."
Gideon didn't look happy.
"Correct, Captain. I'm sorry it's not what you wanted to hear." Gomez
shrugged, slipping his papers back into their folder. When finished, he
tucked it beneath his arm.
"No, that's all right. You've helped me the best you could, Mister
Gomez. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Captain. Let me know if I can be of any further
assistance."
With a nod, Gideon dismissed the engineer and turned back to the
display. Playfully he poked his finger into the shape. The image
dispersed briefly from the disruption, but quickly reformed the wire
frame. Even though the items on the counter's surface blocked the
projector, the display could be sent though it all depending on
thickness and content. Matthew's hand was merely a small dispersion of
the signal as it found its way either through or around the tissue and
bone. He could barely feel the tingling sensation of the power; just a
slight tickling itched his skin. With a gentle strum of his fingers,
the image rippled again but did not disappear, having discovered the
frequency to project through living flesh.
"Captain, should I adjust the scanners to pick up on the fuel core
emissions anyway?" Matheson stood at Gideon's right, watching as the
Captain played with the projection.
"Negative. Gomez believes we are too far away for it to be any good.
We'll just have to head in the general direction that Galen told us and
hope more clues are forthcoming." Done with amusing himself, Gideon
shut off the projection.
They scrolled the blueprints again, removing the weights. The
Lieutenant received his palmtop back and Gideon took the two mugs in his
hand, the ceramic chiming softly as they gently collided. Taking a half
dozen steps to the closed doors of the conference room, Matthew pressed
a sensor on the key pad. The dual doors of the pocket hatch slid open,
revealing the empty room. The coffee carafe and tray from earlier had
been removed, and along with it, all the mugs. Gideon looked at the
bare table and frowned.
"Lieutenant, since when has the commissary staff been so efficient?"
The Captain called over his shoulder.
"Sir, it has been three hours since you requested the coffee. I'm sure
they felt you were done with it." Matheson's smile barely curled his
lips as he watched Gideon sigh. The Captain turned on a heel and
shrugged, walking back into the map room.
"I guess I'll take them back and get something to eat while I'm at it."
Gideon's stomach growled in agreement, having gone too long between
meals. Dinner the previous night had come and gone before Gideon
realized he had missed it, his concentration on reports that were past
due.
"Might I suggest the oatmeal, sir?" Matheson's smile widened as he
presented his usual take on the morning's fare. Gideon had relieved the
Lieutenant of his duties before Gomez made his report, knowing the first
officer could use a break. Gideon's expression soured at his dim
prospects for a decent breakfast.
"That bad?" Matheson nodded bleakly in response. "I guess I could
always find a few toast crusts to gnaw on if I have to."
"It might be better now, sir, with the shift change."
"Here's hoping." Gideon started walking into command, towards the
corridor and hatch that would take him to the below decks, but
Matheson's hand moving to the com at his ear made him pause. The
Lieutenant looked vacantly at the floor as he concentrated on the
message he was receiving.
"Don't tell me I'm going to have to go without breakfast, Lieutenant.
It's the most important meal of the day and you know what I'm like if I
don't get a good breakfast." Gideon's annoyance was fringed with
sarcasm as he raised his hand with the mugs to shake a finger at
Matheson.
"I'm sorry sir, but communications is picking up on something."
Matheson's eyebrows lifted in surprise as the final half of the message
came though. "It's possibly the Toledo."
"Why didn't you say so?" Quickly Gideon moved to the command chair,
handing off the mugs to a passing junior officer. Without questioning,
he took the mugs from the Captain, confused as to why he was receiving
them.
"Analysis shows they are similar to the signals Galen received. Playing
amplified message now, sir." At Matheson's order, static filled
command, punctuated by brief lapses in signal. The technicians were
already working to clean up the transmission and slowly the white noise
disappeared into a muffled voice. Even through the interference, it was
the same as the one Galen had recorded.
"Are we too far out of range to send a reply?"
"Not sure, sir. We could make the attempt."
"Yes. Record the following message-Excalibur to Toledo. Message
received and attempting to intercept. Advise on current status. End."
Gideon waited for the communications officer to end the recording.
"Send out in five minute intervals and keep the line open in case they
try to reply on the same frequency."
*~*~*~*
The ball hung in the air before him, its red polished surface reflecting
a trace amount of light from the power globe above his head. With
hardly a thought, he made it spin on an imaginary axis, to revolve at a
lumbering pace. A second ball came into existence beside its twin and
its revolution began counterclockwise. As the two red balls spun in
opposite directions, a third came into being, this time white with a
green stripe along its longitudinal circumference.
Within his mind's eye, Galen controlled each ball with a long-practiced
technique, honed to perfection. It didn't take much for the balls to
remain separate in his mind, his thoughts repeating each conjured
equation for size, shape, and motion to all the objects as they spun and
hovered in the air.
Releasing a deep breath, he added another equation that sent the red
balls spinning in an upright figure eight while the white ball circled
around the mid point. It gave the conjuring the appearance of a double
handled globe when the objects moved fast enough that his eyes couldn't
differentiate the shapes. Concentrating on the white and green ball, he
added the equation for color change on those for size, shape, and
motion, allowing the center to fade into purple, then orange, then
yellow, and finally back to purple.
Beyond the dizzying pace of the conjured objects before him, Galen
accessed his ship's scanners though the connection made by his implants,
and monitored the incoming information. Internal consoles appeared
beside the conjured images, scrolling information from the external
sensors and the thousands of probes he had planted in various areas
throughout the Excalibur. Bullet cars, corridors, transport tubes,
tactical stations, and even the cleaning crew's cart weren't free from
the nanoprobes that remained like silent sentinels over the crew.
He accessed a favored probe, giving him a glimpse into Dureena Nafeel's
quarters. Galen had placed it on the paneling above the vid console,
allowing her a small amount of privacy from the short angle recording.
Dureena sat in one of her low wooden chairs, sipping at a mug of tea
while she read an electronic novel, using a finger to tap-scroll through
the document on the palmtop. Not wanting his spying to approach the
verge of voyeurism, Galen moved on, checking Medbay and Doctor Chambers
before moving on to Max Eilerson.
Paying too much attention to the probes had loosened his control on the
balls slightly, their revolutions and spinnings beginning to degrade.
With renewed concentration, Galen added the equation for fire, giving
the balls the illusion of being set ablaze. The effect was spectacular;
the conjuring was almost life-like in the level of detail Galen had put
into it. Each flame rippled, swirling around as the balls gyrated,
engulfing till only darkened ash was beneath.
Galen accessed the probe he had placed at the foot of Gideon's chair in
command. The angle made the Captain seem huge in appearance, towering
above the recording, and Galen smirked. The intercepted transmission
said the same as what the Technomage had accessed through the probe; the
Excalibur had finally picked up the Toledo's signal for analysis. Galen
watched as Gideon sent back a confirmation message, in hope it wasn't
too late.
"Excellent, Matthew." The Technomage commented to the objects revolving
and burning before him. Satisfied to the degree of complexity he had
put into the conjuring, Galen dismissed it, releasing a slow breath from
his lips across them. Gradually the image in the air disappeared like
grains of sand being blown from slate till the last of the ash faded
into nothing.
"I suppose now we just sit back and wait." Taking a moment to stretch
the muscles in his neck and between his shoulders, Galen closed his eyes
and thought of a new object to conjure, his mind deciding on one of
Dureena's daggers.
"Yes, yes, this will do nicely." Gradually the curved blade took form
in the darkness, the light leather of the hilt imprinted with the strong
grip of its owner. Keeping the point transfixed downward in his mind,
Galen added the equation for circular motion and the hilt began to
rotate in a wide ellipse, spinning like a top above its apex.