Zhdanov could not help but wonder what methods the original inhabitants of Discovery had employed to combat the phobias of their isolation. So far only a small percentage of the massive ship had been opened to them—and perhaps one of the closed spaces held the alien’s medical treatments. But Zhdanov couldn’t think about the sealed off portions for long without falling victim to the worst fears his imagination could conjure.
I still can’t sleep at night thinking about what’s on board that we don’t know about.
No sign had been heard of the alien ship on their tail, but it could have passed within miles of them undetected in this place. Zhdanov’s only comfort lay in the discovery one of the scientists had made less than an hour ago—and it was part of the reason Zhdanov left the Stargazer laboratory to deliver their compiled report in person.
Zhdanov paused after explaining to Kansier that their knowledge of dark matter was limited despite all former theories regarding it and despite the rapid advancements in the past two days. The scientists would work on figuring out where they were, but for now the progress was slow and the prognosis not very promising. The crew needed something better to hold on to.
“One more thing, Colonel Kansier,” he added. “Shortly before the wormhole jumps, as you know, the dense matter contained within the engine sphere somehow creates a field of negative pressure around the ship which keeps us from emitting detectable gravitation, or acceleration, waves.”
“Yes of course,” Kansier nodded, unsure of what Zhdanov was driving at.
“Only,” Zhdanov shrugged, “as we left the Tiernan system, our measurements picked up an anomaly in the field. After an analysis we have now determined that the negative pressure generated a kind of cloak around the Discovery which we have not registered before.
“Captain, do you understand black hole theory?” Zhdanov suddenly asked. Kansier appeared startled.
“Why, yes,” he said uncertainly, but motioned for Zhdanov to explain.
Zhdanov nodded, seeing that he had been a little vague. “Captain, imagine you were to observe space from an orbit around the event horizon of a black hole.” Zhdanov gestured, throwing wide his arms. “The distortions of matter—of light and space—around such a dense object would cause you to observe a strange phenomenon. Everything would appear dark in front of you and around you. But behind you, the stars would appear concentrated in a small mouth, if you will. In this mouth the black hole would show the images of stars deflected from all around it. Now, we don’t understand how it’s being done, but the ship’s anti-gravitational pressure appears to have produced some of the same effects shortly before we left the Tiernan system through the wormhole gate.
“During that time, actually, right as the Charon aliens’ ship appeared, the field around us began deflecting the light of the stars, the image of space, from the opposite sides of the ship. When Knightwood’s shuttle returned, she thought she was imagining things—at first she says the ship seemed invisible, but then the field dissipated as the scout team approached.
Kansier jumped up in his chair, the color drained from his face. “If this ship became invisible,” he said at last, “perhaps the aliens didn’t know we left the planet and—remained on Tiernan.”
Zhdanov sighed. “I don’t know. We haven’t detected them since leaving the Tiernan system. But they have followed us through the other wormhole gates. Clearly they must know how to use them; at least they know more about the gates than we do. So—I doubt we’ve left them behind. They’re bound to figure out where we’ve gone sooner or later.”
“Let’s hope so, for the sake of the Earth,” Kansier said. “They have to continue to follow us, and not go back to the Earth.”
“Yes.” Zhdanov agreed. “But at least now we know more about what the Discovery is capable of. What I’d like to know is, why didn’t she hide herself in the first place—instead of coming to the Earth? Why is this ship manipulating us all? And what is the force driving it?”
* * * * *
Even after a month floating in the static conditions without any concept of location or direction, life settled down on the ship as the crew adjusted themselves to their environment. Kansier had forbidden any planes from leaving the confines of the fighter bays, mostly because the effects of the dark matter remained unknown.
However, the fighter crews substituted simulation time for the real thing, taking turns on the fewer number of simulacra units. But there was a lot of time to do either nothing or anything. At first the sheer boredom of so many free hours left many too much time to occupy their minds contemplating the hopelessness of their situation. Tempers were short and impatience grew, until at last the generation that had not understood leisure on Earth finally began to explore the concept. The constancy of their environment at last strengthened burgeoning feelings of security, and in time a multitude of activities appeared. One officer got the idea to reconvert an empty cargo hold too small for any major purpose into an improved recreation center; others took the idea further and reincarnated some ancient sporting games from Earth’s past. Soon the flight crews had subdivided into teams, and banners were printed reminding participants of upcoming, organized matches that instigated friendly rivalry.
A lot of the problems that had been faced so far, the shortage of food and the kinks encountered in the distribution and recycling of materials were resolved during the first few months of calm. The hydrogardens flourished with the first new dthúl fruit from Elphor, sending a pleasant sweet fragrance throughout the sections nearest the botanical hold.
Erin Mathieson had been indefinitely dismissed from all of her ship-board duties and found her time eaten up by the scientists, who were curious to document and analyze all of the information she knew about Elphor and suffuse her experiences with the data they had collected on Elphor and Tiernan. In five months, she was able to teach simple Elphoran to the six linguistics specialists on board, and an incipient understanding of Tiernan/Elphoran culture.
The view she presented them was of a conservative, organized race, eons beyond Earth’s level of advancement. The Tiernan ideal epitomized harmony, but contact with an even greater advanced intergalactic Empire in the distant past, that the Tiernans had named Udugiúrha—”after the ancients”—had disrupted their culture, bringing out the radical ideas of egotism and greed in a few; at least, this contact had rendered such maverick tendencies widely acceptable. Once Tiernan had been contaminated by humanoid representatives of the other Empire worlds, a few religious purists had left to join the remote Elphoran colony to preserve their cultural purity.
However, they had not entirely succeeded, and even on Elphor the worlds of the Collective continued to fight outbreaks of violence, especially as the food and resources fell behind the needs of a growing population. Though highly nutritious and flavorful, the dthúl plants and other edible plants of Elphor, descended from the same families that had originated on Tiernan, could no longer grow in the northern and southern regions of Elphor, whose soil, though supporting a rich variety of life, had been depleted of the necessary nutrients for the edible non-native plants. Replenishing the soil proved difficult, as only a few native species could put the nutrients back and took many years to grow. Elphor had been a thriving greenhouse when the first Tiernans arrived, but years of cultivating the alien plants had pushed its soil to the limit.
Tiernan had fared far better than Elphor, but the influence of the old cultures remained there, though the original languages and customs of the racial minority groups had been forgotten. All those born on Tiernan spoke only the low rumbling language of its inhabitants and had gradually adjusted to its stronger gravity, causing each succeeding generation of non-Tiernans to grow shorter, stockier, and stronger.
A few of the non-Tiernan humanoids had never learned to use the two additional voice-boxes with which evolution had equipped them. Only one race had long ago been able to interbreed with Tiernan humanoids and the resulting mix had been restricted to life in the urban cente
r of Hurdghu, the large city where Zhdanov, Knightwood, and the scout party had been directed to land.
Cheung and a few others asked about the humanoids that the Elphorans had thought looked like Earthlings. But Erin only knew that a few fughì—”unprotected ones” had been sent there in early history as exiles. Descriptions of them seemed to match the human profile.
During the discussions with lieutenant Mathieson, Knightwood wondered if this ancient mythical Empire had indeed traveled to the Earth and brought some of early man to Tiernan. That might explain why two alien species had arrived on Earth during her own lifetime, how both had known of the Earth’s existence without disturbing it before. The coincidence that she had doubted, that two races had independently discovered the solar system, could now be permanently questioned. If the alien “Columbus” had come from a diverse galactic Empire capable of large-scale space travel, then the resulting race to the Earth had been deliberate.
Knightwood’s mind wandered as the arguments continued, and a possible answer came to her. As in the Earth’s age of discovery, perhaps one race, this Empire, had found the Earth but another had formed tantamount designs upon hearing of the Empire’s discovery. The effects of time dilation that increased nearer the speed of light could have allowed thousands of years to pass on Earth while only tens of years passed for the original visitors to Earth. Then perhaps they—maybe even the Charon aliens—had only left a short time ago and just now returned to claim the territory.
After all, she thought, Earthlings had long claimed contact with alien intelligence—some even claimed that Earth’s greatest prehistorical achievements had been influenced by an advanced race. If aliens had once visited the Earth, millennia would have passed before they could return. Or before someone else could beat them back there.
And who knew that the Earth wouldn’t develop its own intergalactic center by the time the Discovery returned? Knightwood considered that she might very well live to see an Earth she no longer recognized, if they ever found the way back home.
Still, Knightwood’s colleagues seemed less interested in the history of a mythical Empire that had allegedly once controlled this section of space than in finding more vestiges of human life in the galaxy. Turning her attention back to the debate, Knightwood listened as some suggested returning to Tiernan once they had figured out where they were, since it appeared they had lost the Charon aliens. No one wanted the aliens to give up the chase and return to the Earth, as much as Discovery enjoyed the momentary peace.
Knightwood looked across the table at Erin’s tired expression and sighed. She knew that Erin returned home every day from the evening debates, well past the next morning, continuously harangued by some scientist or another even as she left the conference room. Instead of enjoying the festive sport competitions and endless banqueting going on, the poor girl was subjected to the endless questions of Knightwood’s colleagues. It would have been a miracle if she had seen more than a glimpse of her roommates and friends in the last month.
Poor girl.
And, once the excitement about Elphor had tapered off and most of the scientists’ questions had been answered, the unsolved curiosity had finally been addressed—how had Erin Mathieson been able to learn Elphoran in such a short period of time? After the initial analyses of the Elphoran and Tiernan measurements proved statements she had made concerning the planets and the recorded transmissions supported her translation system, no one had doubted her telepathic abilities. But how she had gotten them in the first place could not be explained, and Erin herself did not seem to know the answer.
At first, despite her own curiosity, Knightwood had tried to protect Erin from a string of unwanted medical exams, but in the end it was Colonel Kansier who ordered that she be left alone and given some respect. After all, he had reasoned, presenting his case to the objecting scientists, hadn’t she been put through enough of an ordeal with nine unending months of questions, ostracized from her own peers and the subject of unremitting scrutiny?
Kansier even suggested that perhaps they were mistaken about Cameron’s involvement—and about Erin’s ability. Perhaps it had not been Erin’s doing but the Elphoran aliens who had singled Erin out and somehow transmitted their thoughts to her. If Knightwood and Zhdanov’s initial assumption was correct, and the Elphorans had understood their human captives, then was it not reasonable to assume that they could make themselves understood?
Kansier’s case had merit; in the nine months since Erin had returned from Tiernan, she had shown no outward signs of telepathic ability. And despite her initial explanation, the scientist in her gave Knightwood reason to doubt herself and the impossible events she had seen.
Knightwood’s proclivity leaned towards accepting Kansier’s suggestions, but she hesitated. Kansier had not been there on Elphor. And while Zhdanov seemed willing to accept the possibility of Kansier’s hypothesis for the time being, he was preoccupied with his own chemical analysis of the Tiernan climate, ecosystems, and planetary composition.
Yet Knightwood could not forget the surprise on the Elphoran Head councilor’s face when the Earth officer boldly addressed him.
One of these days, and perhaps soon, it would be time to examine Erin’s brain fully.
* * * * *
The baby in her arms looked up at her with curious eyes. Erin had missed the christening of little Hans Rheinhardt but had been invited over to a Blue Stripes Sky Hawks reunion party, the third so far, to meet the newest member of the crew.
Little Hans had been born two weeks ago, on the day when the Discovery at last emerged from the dark matter. The ship had traveled thirteen months and four days after the jump from Tiernan when a background of stars suddenly reappeared.
They had come to the edge of another galaxy. Immediately the scientists that had been clamoring to overturn Kansier’s order regarding Mathieson had absorbed themselves in charting the thousands of signals they were receiving. At the edge of the galaxy, the local systems were spread apart, and little background interference allowed the scientists to record the farthest reaches of this section of the universe. They could not pass up the opportunity to figure out what was nearby, what they passed, and where they were going.
Erin’s friends had ceased asking questions about Elphor and Tiernan—she could not tell them more than they already knew. The scientists’ monthly reports had been sent to the entire crew, but the other Blue Stripes kept their distance from the subject for other reasons. They sensed that it might be best to leave academic subjects to the research teams and preserve what remained of Erin’s privacy.
Besides, there were other things to talk about—like the difficulties in finding a good baby-sitter.
As the son slept peacefully in Erin’s arms, across the room, Hans senior had found Erik sitting by himself on a couch panel.
“You should go over there and try holding him yourself,” Hans said amiably, sitting down beside him. “If you’d like.” He added, laughing.
“I can see from here.” Erik protested, with deliberate nonchalance. “Besides, I’ve already been to visit three times since he was born. I hardly think he can have changed very much since the last time I saw him.”
Hans shrugged. “You’ll understand better when you have one of your own,” he said. “I tell you, I could look at him all day, Erik.”
“The role of the doting father suits you,” Erik observed dryly.
“Doesn’t it?” Hans said, refusing to be daunted. “But there’s nothing like the warmth of a family. You should get married, Erik. Otherwise you’ll be missing out on something pretty special.”
“Why is it all newly married people go on a crusade to marry off their friends?” Erik said, feigning mirth.
“It’s just a suggestion.” Hans said, throwing up his hands. “Anyway, if you really want to be happy, you’ll take my advice.” Hans said, giving a friendly warning, then stood and walked back to welcome some new arrivals.
As if it’s that easy, Erik thought to him
self.
“Aw, he looks just like you,” Ho-ling laughed at the other end of the room, appearing behind Erin.
“Ho-ling!” Erin said and turned around, a smile on her face. “Liar.” She teased slyly. “When did you get here?”
“Just now. I had a little work to finish in the hydrogardens.”
“What’s this?” Nikolai had wandered away from the group around the new mother to join them. “So, they’ve put you to work in the botanical wing,” he commented, his Russian accent still as thick as ever though his English was flawless.
“Where have you been—I haven’t seen you in ages,” Ho-ling said and reached out to give him a hug.
“I have been busy in the education center we put in for the children.” Nikolai said in his Russian way with an apologetic smile, combing the fingers of his right hand through his reddish-blond hair. Ho-ling suddenly remembered that the children on board were from the Ural Base and spoke Russian almost exclusively. All of the ship announcements had been given and printed in the two languages—Russian and English.
“Most of the kids can speak English now,” Nikolai said, as if reading Ho-ling’s thoughts, “but the parents still speak Russian at home, so I do a lot of translation work as well. Zhdanov and a few others cannot do it all you know.” He laughed. “Besides, Zhdanov is Ukrainian, and his Russian isn’t perfect. That is okay as long as I teach only the English to Russian children, but now I am teaching your UESRC scientists’ children to speak Russian, and they are all sounding like Zhdanov—”
Erin and Ho-ling looked at each other and burst into laughter after a prolonged effort to keep a straight face.
Nikolai looked puzzled and threw up his hands. “Where is Nathalie?” He asked, looking around the room.
Erin looked around, following his eyes. She hadn’t spoken to Nathalie in weeks. Ho-ling shrugged. “She’s been awfully independent these days—but she said she’d be here tonight,” Ho-ling said, sounding uncertain.