Ad Astra (20 page)

Silence reigned for a moment, then somebody whispered the word I knew would come up sooner or later: "Salvage."

"Yeah," I immediately agreed, before a dozen disparate conversations could spring up on their own. "The
Odysseus
is derelict, long-abandoned. Whoever finds her can claim the ship and everything on her."

"Christ, Captain, this isn't just any derelict. It's gotta be worth a fortune."

"Yeah," I agreed again. "A very large fortune. Under salvage law, a portion of that fortune would go to everyone aboard this ship. The question is, what do we do about it?"

"What do you mean?" a passenger demanded. "If its worth that much money, claim it!"

"It's not just a hunk of metal," Val replied, her voice deceptively mild. "That is, or was, another ship. A ship whose crew is still aboard, though doubtless long dead. If we board, even just to rig a tow line, it'll be the moral equivalent of digging up gold in a cemetery."

"That's stating it a little strongly," I suggested. "But that is essentially the question. Do we desecrate the final resting place of some of mankind's greatest heroes, those humans who first reached for the stars?"

"I'm against it," Cargo Master Walker declared bluntly. "Leave them alone."

"Are you mad?" Garand blurted. "That derelict is ours for the taking, and worth a fortune to us all!"

"I don't care." Walker glared around, finally centering his anger on the space somewhere between me and Garand. "My family has been sailors for generations, on the seas of Earth. Let me tell you, there's a hard and fast rule sailors follow. Leave the dead to the sea. No ship, no sailor, ever prospered by disturbing those drowned. It's not right. Let them sleep. I've no wish to awaken their spirits to torment this ship."

A hush fell across the room, the quiet finally broken by Garand's harsh laughter. "Well, I guess science has spoken! Is anyone going to let rank superstition keep them from fame and fortune?"

"That's enough," I rebuked Garand, my tone bringing a flush to his face. "Does anyone else object to boarding the
Odysseus
?"

"I do," Val announced firmly.

"You agree with Walker?"

"No. Yes." Val's mouth worked, then tightened into a thin line. "Those people, the crew of the
Odysseus
, that's their tomb. They shouldn't be disturbed, not because we fear them, but because we respect them. We owe them that."

"You said they've been dead a long time," Doctor Ortega observed.

"Not long enough!" Val shot back, then subsided, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"No problem," I stated softly. "Who was it?"

"My great-grandfather. He served in engineering on the
Odysseus
." Val's eyes, icy with anger, fixed on Garand. "His final resting place deserves to be respected," she repeated.

Doctor Ortega cleared her throat, then spoke softly. "I understand your concern, as well as that of Mr. Walker, but this is far from the first ship to be found after being lost. There was that ship long ago, on one of Earth's oceans, what was the name? The
Titanic
. I read once there was considerable debate on whether the wreck should be disturbed or left as a monument, yet eventually some of the remnants were recovered. Is this not the same thing?"

"No." My flat response drew a raised eyebrow from Ortega. "Wrecks in deep water are different, Doctor. Unless you get to them pretty fast, there aren't any bodies left to desecrate. Everything, flesh and skeleton, disappears pretty quickly in the ocean environment. There weren't any dead left at the site of the
Titanic
when it was found, except in spirit. But a space wreck leaves everything behind, frozen for effective eternity. We checked the records, and no manned wreck has ever been lost for anything near this long. It's a unique case."

"Besides which," Val added sharply, "military wrecks have always been labeled national war memorials. People never hauled up pieces of sunken military ships because if they had they would have been tossed into jail."

"Was
Odysseus
military?" somebody wondered.

"It had some military personnel on board," Val confirmed.

"That's not the same thing," Garand insisted stubbornly.

"No, it's not." I nodded toward Wata. "Our records indicate
Odysseus
was officially listed as non-military, a peaceful probe of the stars. If it had been government property, we'd still have to worry about an official claim, but public sentiment of the time was such that it was funded by a quasi-private organization. Legally,
Odysseus
is private property, and thus liable to salvage. Since the derelict is still in interstellar space, no other private or governmental authority can dispute possession the way they could if
Odysseus
was in their territory."

Walker jabbed a finger toward me. "So what do you think, Captain? Your vote is the only one that really counts."

"True enough. To be honest, I don't think I want to be remembered as a grave robber, but at the same time I know that our contact with the
Odysseus
has been automatically entered in our ship's official log. I can't tamper with that log, so as soon as we reach port a lot of other people will know where
Odysseus
can be found. That'll make it just a matter of time until someone else boards her."

"At least your conscience would be clear," Val stated, with an steely glance toward Garand.

"But what if there's survivors?" Wata wondered.

"Survivors?" Every eye shifted away from me and toward Wata.

"Impossible," Val declared flatly.

"No, not impossible," Wata insisted. "Very unlikely, but if enough crew sacrificed themselves, if everything went right, there might be. We can't rule it out, that one or two descendants of the original crew might have managed to survive this long. We can't leave, not without checking to see if someone is there."

"I'm not sure I'd want to find a survivor," Walker suggested with a shudder. "Alone out here all their lives, with all the things they'd have had to do to survive?"

"They might not be exactly sane," Wata agreed. "But that's not the issue." She turned to me. "Besides, Captain, if we claim
Odysseus
we can ensure she and her crew's remains are treated properly. True grave robbers might just rip everything apart and sell it to the highest bidders."

I thought about it for a moment, keenly aware of the eyes fixed on me. "Okay. Wata's right. We do have a responsibility to check out the ship. Beyond that, I reserve the right to leave
Odysseus
in peace or place a claim and take her in tow."

Garand glared at me. "I don't think I care for that. What's wrong with a vote now?"

"The Captain just voted," Val replied with a wolfish grin, "and that's the law out here, Mister Garand."

#

Doctor Ortega struggled with the seals on her suit, finally getting the last one secured. "You ever been on a walk, Doctor?" I asked.

"No, not in space. I trust that is not too great a problem."

"It means you have no bad lessons to unlearn," I assured her. "There's only three hard-and-fast rules on a walk out here. Number One, anytime you're outside, make sure you're fastened securely to something. Number Two, always make sure everyone else knows where you are and what you're doing. Number Three, keep your eyes fixed on the
Odysseus
or our own ship. Don't look away."

She nodded judiciously. "I understand the reasoning behind the first two rules, but why the third? Are not the stars glorious in interstellar space?"

"They are," Val replied in a dry tone. "Doc, humans have a well-developed fear of falling. Near a planet, that's not a problem, because there's something big nearby to fall on and that makes our hind-brains happy. Out here, there's nothing, just the one-and-only bottomless pit to fall through until the crack of doom. People lose their minds staring into it, because there's nothing for those minds to hold onto. Keep your eyes on the ships."

"I will," Ortega promised, paling slightly. She moved toward the airlock hatch, peering at an adjacent view-screen centered on the nearby hull of the
Odysseus
.

I took advantage of the doctor's preoccupation to sidle close to my Chief Engineer. "Val, are you sure you want to go?" I asked quietly.

"My great-grandfather's over there, Captain. Besides, you'll need a good engineer to look at the condition of the ship."

"It's not the condition of the ship I'm worried about. Look, the crew of the
Odysseus
were lost in the middle of nowhere. The emptiness out here can eat at healthy minds in working ships, and the people on
Odysseus
knew rescue was impossible. God only knows what might have happened."

"You don't think they died heroically?"

"I don't know. I don't know what we'll find over there. Frankly, I wish someone else was going to see. Maybe they're all sitting at their posts, after working until the end. But it could be very bad. Can you handle that if it is?"

"Captain, contrary to Walker's beliefs, I don't think the dead can hurt us. The only thing we need to fear is what's within ourselves. I'm not afraid of what we might find."

"Good enough." I double-checked my own seals, then led the way into the airlock. "Okay," I announced over our suit circuit as the inner hatch cycled closed, "we can see an access hatch on the outside of
Odysseus
. Wata's maneuvered our ship so our own airlock is opposite it. We should have a straight shot." The outer hatch popped softly, revealing
Odysseus
' hull stretching from right to left across our field of vision, framed on top and bottom by strips of black spangled with brilliant stars. Clearly visible against the still-bright hull of the other ship was a large rectangle which should mark the access. I fired a grapnel across, watching as it locked onto the other ship next to the access, then led the way hand-over-hand. I reached one hand out, tentatively, my suited fingers finally brushing against the metal of a ship out of legend.

"Unbelievable," Val whispered. I turned and saw she was also gazing at the
Odysseus
with something born of disbelief and wonder. A moment later, she tore her eyes away to focus on the nearest portion of the hull. "This looks like the control panel," she noted, prying at a half-meter square panel. It resisted her efforts, frozen by time and space, until a tool forced it open.

"Will that still work?" I wondered.

Val grinned, though with tension, not humor, as she punched a series of buttons. "If not, I'll run a power cable from our ship. It looks operational, though." After a moment, I felt a lurch through the
Odysseus
' hull, followed by the smooth opening of the access hatch. "Bingo, Captain."

"Thanks." I led the way again, fighting down a feeling of intruding where I shouldn't be. The clean technology of the airlock clashed incongruously with my mental vision of penetrating an ancient burial mound. Val and Doctor Ortega hung close to me as the outer hatch sealed and the airlock began compressing. My right hand swung down to caress the holster where my sidearm rested, a rarely-used weapon usually safely sealed in the ship's safe, intended more for show than action. Memory of Wata's speculation of a survivor, and what condition such a survivor's mind might be in, moved me to free the seals on the holster. My hand closed on the weapon's grip as the inner hatch swung open with a soft sigh audible on our exterior mikes.

I'd prepared myself for a variety of sights when the interior hatch swung open, but none matched what met my eyes. An immaculate, empty passageway ran off in two directions, its dimensions obvious in the low illumination provided by glowing light fixtures at regular intervals. Occasionally, a dimmer gap showed where a fixture had failed, but otherwise the inside of the
Odysseus
seemed ready for inspection.

"There's still plenty of power." I didn't attempt to hide my surprise.

Val jerked her head to indicate aft. "They outfitted this thing with enough nuclear material to provide energy for a millennium, if it's properly rationed."

"I read plenty of atmosphere."

Doctor Ortega nodded, squinting at her read-outs. "Yes, Captain. Pressure is a little below standard, but not much. Unfortunately, it has a fairly high CO2 component and appears to be very stale."

"Stale."

"Yes. The air in this section of the
Odysseus
, at least, has not circulated for a very long time. I would not attempt to breath it. I also would not care to smell it."

"Noted. We won't try."

Ortega peered forward and aft down the passageway. "Very tidy. It appears we can rule out hysteria, panic or insanity."

"Maybe." I reached out and began to swing forward. "Let's check the bridge."

As I'd guessed, the large passageway led through a major bulkhead, then dead-ended at another. Following the cross-passage, empty of bodies or debris like its counterpart, my little boarding party soon reached a hatch with 'Bridge - Authorized Personnel Only' spelled out in the blocky text spaceships had inherited from their seagoing ancestors. My right hand nervously patted my side-arm even as my left punched the hatch access control.

It cycled open with a deliberation which suggested resentment to my heightened senses. Biting my lower lip, I leaned in, taking in the entire bridge with one glance. "Empty."

Val followed, crowding me in the access. "I thought we'd find the Captain here, for sure."

"Me, too. This is getting spooky." All the stations were clearly labeled, making it easy to single out the Command seat. "Val, can I access the Captain's Log from here?"

"Should be able to." She studied the controls for a moment, punched in some commands, scowled, punched some more, then smiled triumphantly. "There you are. Since there's atmosphere, I set it to normal sound playback. We should pick that up easily on our external mikes. What do you want to hear?"