CHAPTER 30
The walk to the core’s bottom floor was uneventful but fascinating for Commlead Haridep. The immensity of the core made her feel like she was in a building rather than on a spaceship. The frightening dark shadows of the upper levels gave way to lights illuminating the bottom level. The closer they came to the lowest level, the emptier the chamber became. All the equipment above was narrowing, its focus pointing toward the well-lit center of the floor.
Each forward step replaced some of her fear with curiosity and wonder. Every new level revealed more unfamiliar machinery hanging beside them. Her Kraken training was limited to few real hard facts and many suppositions. This machinery was beyond comprehension. The scale alone was hard to conceive.
Her reverie was interrupted by an insightful comment from Strikedag Tanner.
“Hey Commlead, any idea what all this Kraken crap is for?”
One man’s treasure… she thought. “No, Strikedag. Perhaps we will know more when we reach the bottom.”
Stopping at the end of the ramp, they stared across the huge expanse of floor and then upward. It was an imposing sight. The equipment on the bottom level was at the center of the immense expanse. There was a small control panel next to what appeared to be an eight-foot-high silver egg standing on its end. The entire mass of equipment above funneled down to this one object.
“Man, whatever that does, it must be impressive to need all that support,” said Lancelead Grey.
“You are correct, Lancelead. I must remind you both to touch nothing until I examine it,” said the Commlead.
“Not a problem, Ma’am,” said the Strikedag, looking above him as they neared the egg. “No way in hell I’m touching anything here. Wouldn’t want to make this whole thing fall down.”
Commlead Haridep stopped in her tracks as she visualized the mountain of machinery over her head. “Thanks, Strikedag,” she said, shooting him a glance, “but I really didn’t need that image.” As they advanced to the center of the room, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing upward occasionally.
“I can’t believe they don’t know we are here,” said the Lancelead. “This is too easy.” He flipped his laser’s safety off.
The strikedag did the same. “Could be a trap.”
“No. I don’t believe so,” said the Commlead, raising a cautionary hand. “Remember. The Cross wasn’t operational. There wasn’t anything aboard. The ship may have detected the hole we cut and sealed it as a matter of maintenance.” She gestured to the egg. “I’m sure they wouldn’t want us to see that.”
The strikedag gave her a half-nod of acquiescence.
They approached cautiously. The two marines fanned out on either side of the Commlead and peered into the far corners of the core, weapons at the ready. The silver egg was more imposing than it had been at a distance, perhaps because it was the obvious focus of the lights and mass of machinery suspended above it. The egg shone with a beckoning patina of mystery and power.
She bent to examine the control as the Lancelead reached out a hand to the silver egg. “I wouldn’t touch that, Lancelead. You never know what might activate it.” The Lancelead snatched back his hand as if burned.
Commlead Haridep closely examined the silver egg, then turned to the control panel. It had markings on the panel similar to the ones in the fire control center, but not enough to translate. “These controls,” she remarked to no one in particular, “are different from those we found in the Cross’s legs. Those panels had only machine interface couplings. This has one as well, but there are also surface controls – push buttons.”
“Why is that unusual, Ma’am?” asked the Lancelead.
“Well, to push a button you need a finger, a device much less accurate than an electronic pulse.”
“Ma’am,” said the Strikedag, “are you suggesting that this control panel was made for human fingers?”
“No, Strikedag. I just find it interesting. The suppositions will come later, believe me.” She remembered the droids sealing the core and had a thought. “Lancelead, can your suit give you a readout of the atmosphere in this room?” she asked.
“Why yes, Ma’am.” He blinked rapidly for several seconds and announced, “It’s a total vacuum… with a trace of argon gas.” He glanced at the Commlead. “Why, Ma’am? What were you thinking?”
“I thought perhaps this chamber might have a breathable environment.”
“Right now a roomful of air, a juicy fakesteak, a cot and a brew would make me a happy marine,” said the Strikedag. He lowered a knee to the floor.
“Commlead,” said Lancelead. “Do you have any idea as to what we should do?”
“We have several options, Lancelead.” She gestured to the Strikedag. “None of them includes Strikedag Tanner’s fantasy, though.” She paused in thought. “We can cut our way out and try to take over this ship. Might be difficult to do with just the three of us. I’m sure the ship has battle droids and I don’t like the idea of alerting them that we are here. We could sit tight and wait for rescue. That’s assuming the fleet will come rescue us instead of blowing this dreadnought out of the sky. Or, we could play with this control panel and see what the egg does. It might do something that would help.”
“I don’t like any of those ideas, Commlead, but I think the best one is taking over the ship,” said the Lancelead.
“Strikedag Common Sense,” said Commlead Haridep, “what are your views on the subject, besides dreams of fakesteak and brew?”
“Well, Ma’am…” He hesitated for a moment, considering. She bet he would be stroking his chin if he didn’t have his battlesuit helmet on. “I think you should play with the egg. I’m sure it won’t blow up if you touch the buttons, but if it does, we might take out a Kraken dreadnought. A pretty fair exchange, I’m thinking.” He shrugged. “If nothing comes of the egg, then we can try to take over the ship. If we try to do the reverse and get burned down by a battle droid, we will never have the chance to see if the egg can help us.”
“A good summary, Strikedag,” she said. “Lancelead?”
“Egg,” he said, nodding.
“Egg,” echoed the Strikedag.
“Good,” she said. “I’ve been dying to push a few buttons.” She studied the panel. The four large ones she was certain did something major, the smaller ones grouped nearest each were probably parameters. She tried to deduce which button might be the correct one to try first, but in the end chose one at random. She turned to the others. “Ready gentlemen?” The Strikedag rose to his feet and unracked his laser rifle. The Lancelead followed suit.
As she reached out a hand, her mouth suddenly went dry and she felt her pulse pounding in her neck. She took a deep breath and pushed the first button.
The button lit. She waited, but nothing happened. With all this gigantic machinery overhead, she had expected something amazing, something incredible. The lack of a response emboldened her. “Let me try a smaller button,” she said and pressed the first button in the row. The button glowed but still nothing happened in the room.
“Talk about anti-climactic,” said the Lancelead.
“Let me try another,” said Commlead Haridep. She reversed the process and the button lights went out.
She pressed the second button.
Immediately the lights in the room grew brighter and they could feel a vibration coming from the floor through the soles of their feet.
“Something’s happening!” said the Lancelead. Strikedag Tanner backed away from the group and scanned the area, laser rifle at the ready. They remained poised for fight or flight for five minutes, but nothing else happened.
Lancelead Grey let out a sigh. “If that was meant to get my blood pressure up, it worked.”
“Wait a second,” said the Strikedag, racking his laser. He walked back to the group and blinked rapidly. “A low level atmosphere is building up in here.” He blinked more. “N
itrogen seventy eight percent, oxygen twenty-two percent, various other trace gases. This room is filling with breathable stuff. We already have a one-sixteenth atmosphere in here.”
“Commlead Haridep, can you press the button again and see if it stops, please?” requested the Lancelead.
“Is there a good reason why, Lancelead?” she asked.
“Yes, Ma’am. If we have to break out of here for the takeover of the ship scenario, I don’t want to do it from an atmosphere to a vacuum. A large pressure leak might activate another droid crew.”
“Good thinking, Sir,” said the Strikedag. “Do it, Ma’am. Do it, do it.”
Commlead Haridep pressed the button again. The vibrations ceased and the light on the button went out. The Strikedag started blinking again. “Looks like that’s the cutoff switch all right. The pressure is not rising. Sir,” he said to the Lancelead, “if you lend me your O2 filter pack, I can suck some oxygen out of this atmosphere and top off our tanks.”
The Lancelead nodded and handed him his pack. “Good idea, Strikedag,” said the Lancelead. “If you think of anything else, sing out – in your rich baritone, of course.”
The Strikedag laughed. “If the Commlead hits the brew button next, you’ll hear me sing out loud and clear.”
“Let’s try button number three,” said Commlead Haridep.
“Just a minute, if you will, Ma’am. I’d like to finish topping off our tanks.” The Strikedag proceeded to fill all their oxygen tanks to max. When finished, he nodded. “Go ahead Ma’am, press the brew button.”
She smiled and pressed the third button. A flash of light burst out from the silver egg. It split vertically, the front half of the shell sliding backwards inside the rear. The process happened so quickly everyone jumped back. No one moved or said a word, they just stared. Labored breathing was the only sound on the comm channel.
Commlead Haridep’s mind flashed again on her alien studies anthropology instructor at the academy. “Any machine reflects the organism it was designed for,” he had said.
Sitting inside the open silver egg was a white, fully padded, contour seat that could only have been made for a human.