Omega Rising (6 page)

A few minutes after walking back into the corridor, carrying his helmet under his right arm like the guys in The Right Stuff, Jason was once again entering the main cargo hold. Before he could even think about donning his helmet Deetz walked over and began punching controls on the touchscreen panel that was mounted in the pedestal next to the main rear doors. A loud alarm started up a cadence and red strobes began flashing on either side of the doors as they slid apart revealing the cargo ramp, still up in the locked position. But, to Jason's horror it also began to move as it jerked and then lowered smoothly away, revealing the barren Martian landscape.

"Shit!" Jason shouted as he clumsily tried to jam the helmet onto his head in a panic. After two attempts he couldn't get the locking collar that sealed to the outer layer to go over his head.

"What is your problem? I thought you wanted to go out there," Deetz's calm voice floated across the cargo bay to him. Jason then realized that not only had there been no explosive decompression, but he could hear the other's voice so there had to still be atmosphere in the bay. That and he was still hyperventilating. He pulled the helmet back off and lowered it slowly, trying to salvage as much of his dignity as he could.

"So I take it there's something keeping the air inside?"

"Obviously. There's an electrostatic shield keeping the atmosphere in. It won't do anything to stop solid objects from coming in or out though." Deetz walked back to the middle of the bay where Jason still stood and took the helmet from his hands. It flipped it around and helped him slide it easily down over his head. After verifying the seals and ensuring the re-breather was attached and functioning he slapped Jason on top of the helmet and pointed outside the bay. "Have fun. You can call back to me if you have any trouble. Just stay out of the way of the bots that are shuttling up material from the trench, they're not very smart or attentive. You don't want one to smack into you." With that it turned and walked back up the stairs and disappeared back into the ship through the hatch, leaving Jason standing alone in the cargo hold.

Passing through the shield that was holding in the cargo hold's atmosphere was fairly anticlimactic; he couldn't tell any difference at all save for the display in his helmet alerting him of the external pressure change. The suit took up the slack seamlessly and he soon found himself standing with the toes of both boots right at the edge of the cargo ramp. He couldn't help but feel a chill run up his spine as he was about to leapfrog over decades of human technological development (and astronaut screening) to become the first human to walk on Mars. He felt he should say something inspirational, but his mind was so numbed from recent events he just stared blankly down at the reddish brown dirt in front of him.
Fuck it. Inspirational isn't really my style anyway.
He picked his right foot up and let himself drop down and put a boot print in the soil. Despite himself, he could feel his eyes well up with tears as the enormity of what he had just done hit him.

The lighter gravity of Mars made locomotion a bit of a challenge at first. He tried to do the hop-skip thing like Buzz Aldrin had done on Earth's moon, but the gravity was
too
strong for that. He eventually found that if he moved with a normal gait but pushed off with his toes at the very end he would drift a good distance for not a lot of effort. He looked back at the ship and noticed a few squat, multi-appendage robots dragging what looked to be chunks of slag metal under the ship and lifting them up into an iris-type opening that was forward and port of the main cargo hold.
That must be the input to the fabricators. I wonder what kind of metal that is...

Turning his back on the ship and all the repair activity, Jason set off along the perimeter of Valles Marianis, marveling at its enormity. He had been to the Grand Canyon back on Earth a couple times, but this was something else entirely. It was almost like the world stopped right before him. After what felt like a couple kilometers he came up to a small outcropping and stopped. He stared out over the canyon for a few minutes, then he sat down cross-legged in the Martian dirt and looked out while his thoughts turned in.
Amazing. This place looks like northern Iraq after one of those crazy sandstorms blew through.

             
Jason stared out unseeing at Mars as his thoughts flitted around in his head. He was a person who was naturally able to compartmentalize during situations of extreme stress, it was how he was able to operate so successfully during the war. However, he was starting to fully realize what it was that he had stumbled into, and he suddenly felt very, very small. Not only had he inadvertently gotten himself shanghaied aboard an alien spacecraft, but now the sole occupant (a smart-assed alien machine) wanted to take him along on a job of some sort. What could the ramifications of this be? What if something unforeseen happened and, as Earth's unofficial, unsanctioned ambassador to the stars, his world was made to suffer the consequences for his actions? His thoughts drifted to the beautiful blonde in the picture he carried; what would happen to her? He quickly shoved the entire line of reasoning from his head lest he rip open that wound again. While she was never far from his mind, he had learned to keep those memories buried, if only just under the surface.

Even as he went through the mental tedium of trying to talk himself out of going along with Deetz on this mission, he knew what his answer would be in the end. In spite of everything, the adventure was simply too much for him to pass up. That same lust for excitement that made him enlist in the Air Force at eighteen was also pushing him to climb aboard the gunship and blast off for the stars.

              "Jason, can you hear me?"

Speaking of the devil...

             
"Yes Deetz, I copy. What can I do for you? Over."

              "Over what?"

              "Nevermind," Jason rolled his eyes, "What do you need?"

"Just curious about how much longer you'll be. We're about done with repairs and will be ready for lift in approximately an hour."

              "Already? That was fast."

              "Not especially so. You've been out there for a few hours now."

Jason rose easily to his feet, looking like a gymnast in the light Martian gravity. "I'm on the bounce. I'll be back shortly."
Ha. On the bounce...
He laughed at the irony of using a line from one of his favorite novels, Starship Troopers, as he actually bounced across an alien planet in a spacesuit. If only Heinlein could see him.

Approaching the gunship Jason could see significant changes, most notably to the hull, which had been splotchy with burn marks and scarred by blast impacts. It was now smooth and shone dully in the light like burnished steel. The cargo ramp was still down so Jason bounced up and into the hold, stumbling slightly as the gravity doubled. It appeared that artificial gravity had been restored, so Jason had to assume the slip-drive reactor was also up and running without incident. After popping the seal on his helmet and removing it Jason could
really
feel what the damage control system had done. The ship positively hummed with energy; a low-frequency, omnipresent tingle that hadn't been there before. As he made his way across the cargo bay Deetz's voice came over the ship's public address.

"Meet me in the room you suited up in and I'll help you out of that thing. We should be ready to get out of here once you're dressed again."

It was at least forty minutes after boarding before Jason was free of the exo-atmospheric suit. "These things aren't really designed to be quick or convenient. Nearly anyone who would serve aboard a ship like this would have a much more capable combat suit that they would wear. These are more contingency items." This last comment brought Jason's thoughts right back to the missing crew, and the synth's evasiveness about where they might be. He decided to ignore the thought that was nagging at the back of his mind, as he had more or less decided to go with Deetz on this cargo run. Dwelling on it wouldn't do him any good.

As he laced up his boots while sitting on a bench, he asked Deetz a question, "So how long of a flight is it to this cargo pickup?" Silence. Looking around, he noticed he was talking to himself as the synth was nowhere in the room. "Well what the fuck?" He couldn't believe Deetz had been able to so easily exit the room without his noticing. Either his situational awareness wasn't nearly as good as he had been led to believe, or the synth was extremely sneaky. Shrugging, he stood up and stretched, enjoying the normal gravity, and strode out of the room on his way to the bridge.

Walking onto the bridge, Jason was further impressed at how alive the ship seemed now. Deetz stood in the middle of the raised dais in the center, feet shoulder width apart and hands on its hips. Jason had already become accustomed to the human-like gestures and mannerisms the machine exhibited, so its appearance no longer startled him. "So, what's the play?"

              "I'd say that depends on what your decision is. So, what will it be? Ready for the adventure of a lifetime?" The cheesy, used car salesman act Deetz was doing grated on Jason's nerves.     

              "Yes. I'm going with you," Jason began, ignoring the wide smile that appeared on the synth's face. "But, I want it made clear that I'm simply a glorified passenger. I'm trusting that you aren't planning on tossing me into anything more... involved... than just being a biological at the pickup." Jason realized how idiotic his speech was. He would be a de facto prisoner once they were there, marooned God knows how many light years from Earth. If Deetz had nefarious intentions, Jason would be in no position to do anything about it. Still, the risk to reward ratio was still tipping the scale in favor of going along for the ride.

              "Not an issue. You'll just disembark, tag a couple forms, and we'll be on our way. You'll get to see some incredible things before I bring you back to your planet."

              "Ok. We ready to rock then? I'm assuming this bird it at 100%." Jason especially appreciated the clean processed air that the environmental system was pumping out. It was a vast improvement over the acrid aroma of burnt electronics and ozone.

              "Oh not quite at one-hundred percent, the damage control system is good, but it can't work miracles. There are some things that will require some better equipped facilities to get back to full strength." Deetz was settling into the left hand seat on the dais and motioned to the seat at his right for Jason to sit in. As soon as he sat in the seat it began to subtly adjust itself to his body shape. It gave in the right places and bolstered in the others, the result was one of the most comfortable seats he had ever sat in. It gave the initial impression of suede leather, but upon further inspection was definitely some sort of synthetic material.

Jason looked bemusedly at the array of controls and displays before him. It was an interesting mix of familiar toggle and tactile switches along with the more expected glass touch panels and, he noticed with delight, a pair of holographic displays. One of them showed the ship in its entirety, slowly rotating, with key information being displayed with arrows indicating to parts of the model. The other seemed to show the Solar System with Mars clearly highlighted by a rotating halo. On a whim, he closed two fingers and his thumb together and pushed his hand towards the Mars icon in the model. Once he felt like he was "touching" it, he quickly splayed the three digits outward. The result was satisfyingly as he expected; the holo zoomed quickly until it was showing only a rotating Mars in exquisite detail along with more scrolling text. There was also a red strobing crosshairs flashing near the Valles Marineris that he knew must indicate their position. He assumed if he "swiped" again that the holo would zoom in even further and maybe even show the ship itself. Instead, he inserted his open hand into the holo and quickly closed all his fingers together, zooming the display back out to the original display of the Solar System.
Too cool. It also shows that humans must not be that unlike whoever designed these interfaces.

              "If you're done playing..."

              Jason looked over at Deetz sheepishly. "Just playing a hunch," he said.

              "Ah. Well, if you're done we can lift off and get out of here. Once we're in flight please try to control your hunches; I'd rather not have one of them activate the self-destruct." Deetz's hands flew over the controls and a deep, steady hum started building in volume and pitch.

              "This thing actually has a self-destruct?"

              "No."

              Deetz rested his hands on two dimly glowing hemispheres on either side of his seat, the blue light shining weakly between his fingers. While Jason couldn't exactly make out the motions the synth made, it was obvious these were the manual flight controls when the ground dropped away. He quickly gave up trying to decipher how the controls actually worked, being a far cry from the familiar stick and rudder, and enjoyed the view as Mars slid underneath them at an increasingly fast rate. Deetz was speaking out loud in that same alien dialect he used when Jason first stormed the bridge, obviously talking to the ship. As he spoke he could hear and feel changes in its configuration; some solid thumps seemed to be the landing gear coming up and locking and the pitch of that oppressive whine seemed to be directly related to their speed. "Want to see something incredible?" Deetz was now looking over at him,