Questor Read online

  Lieutenant Martin Henson, the requisitions officer, had taken a quick look at the food, drink, and sundry supplies position. As their three-year mission was almost over they should’ve had enough supplies for the six-month return journey, with a little extra for any delays. However, one of the storage bays had suffered serious damage, and they’d lost almost half of their food when one of the bays had breached. With relief it was discovered the drinking water and sundries were all intact, as were the emergency rations which were a specific dried type of food which would last quite some time. However, when the quantity and variety were worked out no one quite envisaged this type of emergency. The emergency rations would indeed do as a backup until they could find other more palatable supplies. But they didn’t have much leeway.

  The meeting continued in a similar vein for some time, setting out what they needed to face whatever the future might bring. Every avenue led to the same conclusion—they had limited time to find fresh supplies, of all types.

  In the end the captain confirmed his intention to head for home at their best possible safe speed, looking out for all the requirements they would need along the way.

  The possibility of settling on a habitable planet and making a new home was discussed, but it wasn’t given serious consideration. Besides the obvious, natural desire to return home to their families and friends, the crew was about seventy percent male. It tended to be the case that most serving officers were single. It made sense for those who chose a life that meant they would be away from Earth for years at a time. However, in this present situation, with a crew containing such a division of the sexes, that kind of math could cause more problems than it could ever solve, so the idea was tabled for the foreseeable future.

  Time passed by, space passed by, and the belief of the crew in their continuing survival began to pass by. The emptiness of space in this region seemed to stretch on and on, and Manny couldn’t find any indication of planetary bodies. It’d been just over six weeks since the storm had hit, and they’d had nothing but bad luck ever since. They’d started out on the course that would, in time, lead them home, but they’d hit what the crew colloquially called “the desert.” They had not been able to gain provisions of any kind.

  Food was rationed, nerves frayed and tempers flared. The crew morale reached an all-time low. The senior officers had their hands full trying to keep the crew under control. The scientists with their inherent knowledge and fertile imaginations were the worst culprits.

  Captain Sullivan and Commander Barlow held meeting after meeting, always with the same result. Supplies were depleting too fast, even with the rationing. Henson was already handing out the emergency rations for one meal a day, much to the galley’s disgust, but as he was fond of saying, he needed to keep ahead of the game. The cooks felt as if it was an insult for them to have to serve such stuff.

  Each day became more of a trial than the day before. Captain Sullivan was finding it all too frustrating. It was bad enough there were always so many shortages; equipment, materials, food, and now he’d developed a short temper that just made him feel more frustrated.

  He tried the relaxation exercises Doctor Mannion taught him, and even some of the more obscure methods he’d picked up over the years, but nothing had the desired effect.

  He marched out of his ready room into the command center, hoping for some news—any kind of news. Something to break the monotony that was so wearing on his nerves. He was angry at himself for allowing his frustration to grow the way it had, though to be fair he supposed he was carrying everyone else’s frustration as well. It was evident from the atmosphere onboard over the past few weeks the crew was far from happy, and it was natural their frustration would transfer to him. Everyone coped better when they were busy. Oh, not just busy with the everyday life of running the ship but with something “happening.” Perhaps it’s not wise to wish for something to happen, he thought, as the odds are it will!

  He stood at the entrance to the command center and glanced about him. Everything was under control. He had no complaints about the efficiency of his crew, even in a situation like this; which, if you thought about it, said a lot for the crew.

  “Ah, Captain. I was just about to contact you,” Commander Barlow said. “Our luck may have changed. At last, we’re coming out of the void. Perhaps we can find somewhere ahead to fulfill our needs.”

  As their needs were now extensive and continuous, it had become an urgent need to find provisions.

  “Lieutenant Mannheim, please ensure you take as detailed sensor readings as possible. Supplies are desperate after our long sojourn in that damned void.” He cocked his head toward Barlow and commented, “That’s a good name, Peter. Better than desert, I think.”

  “Mr. Barlow likes to show off his intelligence, sir. He doesn’t often get the opportunity,” interjected Manny with a grin.

  “Thank you, Manny,” replied Barlow, dipping his head in ironic acknowledgement.

  The crew was restless. When this mission had begun it’d been the pinnacle of their desire to find an inhabited planet. Now all they wanted was a planet that could provide food.

  So when Manny at last reported he’d found a system—no two systems!—on his long-range scans, the relief was palpable.

  The captain beamed and said to Piper at communications, “Open intra-ship.” Piper nodded confirmation even before Sullivan stopped speaking. “Briefing meeting in fifteen minutes,” he announced. Nothing else was required; everyone who needed to attend would be there.

  Jon wasn’t on duty when the captain’s message came over the intra-ship system. He got up from the chair in the corner of his quarters and paced to the large window overlooking the graceful stars that were foreign to his eyes. As senior helmsman he was familiar with the star charts. Most familiar with the star charts for the galaxy within the exploration circle from Earth and even within the next ten to fifteen light years, which were the next sectors to be explored. However, he was looking now on stars over so many light years from Earth that it would take the ship over twenty years to get home. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he headed for the briefing meeting.

  Manny was in the middle of a detailed sensor sweep and was late walking into the briefing room.

  “It could be I have the answer, Captain,” Manny interrupted as he entered. “I have collated all my information now, and I can confirm those two systems just ahead could provide the assistance we need.” He hesitated for effect. “And each contains an inhabited world.” In the silence that followed he dropped another bombshell. “One seems ideal for food supplies and the other is giving off all the indications of a miner’s paradise. We should be able to obtain all the metals Sara is crying out for, and maybe even a fuel source.”

  “Providing, of course, the inhabitants are willing to help,” Barlow said, throwing a little cold water on Manny’s enthusiasm. Manny was prone to look at the good side of everything first.

  “Hmm.” Captain Sullivan leaned his chin on his hands and stared out of the window. “We exit the void and almost at once find two inhabited planets. How is that for serendipity? Too good to be true perhaps, all the more so after our recent absence of luck. This is making me quite curious, and while my natural inclination is to be cautious, in this case we’ve little choice. Our first priority has to be supplies. Sara informed me just a few hours ago if she doesn’t get what she needs, and soon, we’ll be seeing the results far too soon. The ship took more secondary damage than was first apparent. And Martin has reported that the quantity of food remaining is far too low now.”

  “We can’t delay obtaining engineering supplies while we get the food first, Captain. It would just be too risky,” chipped in Sara. She stood up and walked around the table to stop beside Henson. “How long is it possible to hold out with the food and other sundries?”

  Henricks’ officious manner always annoyed Henson and he replied, but to the captain, “I was about to suggest, Captain, we’ll soon need to go onto emer
gency rations twice a day; the situation is that severe. Even I can’t work miracles forever,” he added with a sigh. He took a calming breath. “I brought a tally of all my supplies for you to see, sir,” he said, bringing up a new display for all to see. “I was relieved when I realized we were out of the desert at last and could be approaching habitable worlds. Captain, the truth is my needs are quite as urgent as Henricks’.”

  “It seems to me,” put in Barlow in that quiet, steady way of his, “we need to be in two places at the same time. The question is, can we?”

  “Yes,” said the captain, looking thoughtful. “Is it possible to travel to both systems in a reasonable time?”

  “Maybe, but not as fast as it would seem both Martin and Sara would like,” Manny replied. “I’ve checked the figures, and if we’re in as much of a rush as I think, we need to split our forces.”

  “I think maybe food is our first priority, and this one,” the captain said while pointing at one of the planets in the nearest system on the computer screen where Manny displayed his results, “seems to be abundant in edible supplies at least.”

  “Yes, sir. The most distant one is a little more difficult to read. The atmosphere seems rather dense. However, I can pick out the fact that it’s mineral rich. I’m not so sure about vegetation though,” Manny added.

  Captain Sullivan seemed thoughtful for a while. “Could a shuttle reach the farthest system and see if we could obtain material supplies there, while Questor deals with this one?” the captain asked Jon.

  “Yes, Captain. At the shuttle’s maximum speed, it shouldn’t take more than about three days to reach the planet once we’re in orbit of this first one,” he said. “What is it you have in mind, sir?”

  “Follow the normal routine, Mr. Hardesty. Approach with particular care, on the lookout for any signs of space flight capability. We don’t want to come upon this race and be viewed as any kind of threat. At the same time, if they’re capable of space flight, or even if there’s any indication of artificial satellites in orbit, it’d indicate a possible acceptance of beings from another world. We’d still need to be extra careful. If the natives are advanced enough, we’ll attempt to make contact and try to gain agreement to visit. Then, I’ll take one team to negotiate for food stocks and anything else we can get from this first planet, and at the same time send you in one of the shuttles to the other world to see if you can arrange similar contact there for engineering supplies and, of course, anything else suitable. It’s a tall order, but we don’t have much of a choice.”

  “Who do you intend to send with Hardesty?” Barlow asked.

  The captain considered for a moment. “I think it would be best to send Mr. Mannheim.” He glanced down the table at Manny as he spoke and Manny nodded in reply. “We won’t need his particular skills while we are in orbit, and it would be best if he accompanied Hardesty, just in case.”

  “Just in case of what?” Jon asked, looking a little alarmed.

  “In case you can’t cope without me, of course,” piped up Manny with a grin. “You might need the guidance of someone older and more experienced.”

  Jon huffed, but then he smirked. “You’re liable to land me in more trouble.”

  “Just in case contact can be made,” interrupted the captain with obvious patience, “and an agreement can be reached, Mr. Mannheim will be in a position to get the ball rolling in any negotiations. Then, when we arrive things will be well underway.”

  “Sounds easy enough,” replied Manny, sounding sarcastic.

  Sullivan glanced at Manny but just said, “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

  TWO

  Manny kept up a continuous scan of the first system trying to gain as much information as possible before a decision on if, how, or when to make contact. As it happened the decision was made for them when Manny found evidence of space flight capability. There was a linked string of satellites surrounding the planet and Manny saw a ship leaving the planet to head for what appeared to be a small space station just inside of the ring of satellites.

  When Manny reported this to the captain, Lieutenant Piper suggested it might be wise to attempt to communicate sooner rather than later.

  “It’s probable the planet’s inhabitants are capable of scanning Questor’s approach and contact would indicate there was no intent to secrecy or deception on our part.”

  “Do so,” the captain ordered.

  The initial approach with the planet couldn’t have gone better. Questor settled into orbit around the planet they now knew as Midea. When a transmission from another space-faring race was received, the Mideans were delighted and not at all nervous at meeting a new species. It was apparent they’d had previous contact with another race, and it had gone well. To the crew of the Questor this seemed almost too good to be true, but they weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  However, it took longer than Captain Sullivan would have liked to arrange the orbital plot with the controllers on the surface. The Mideans appeared to be a most precise people, if somewhat pedantic. They enjoyed the to-and-fro of making specific detailed arrangements. They had rather strict travel lanes and various rules and regulations, including the use of just audio in their communications. They were unwilling, rather than unable, to transmit visually, and the captain hoped they were a little more accommodating when it came to the trade arrangements. The Questor crew was at a disadvantage to begin with as there was not much to trade.

  However, Piper learned from listening to public broadcasts that the Mideans had much to offer by way of food supplies, in exchange for information that could help them with their industrialization program, which appeared to be vast. It was conceivable there were methods, skills, knowledge, and experience the crew had that would be of particular use to the Mideans.

  Captain Sullivan spent considerable time discussing with Barlow and Mannheim what should be disclosed that would in no way endanger the ship. Based on the information gathered, they decided on quite a few innovations they believed would please the Mideans.

  It was decided it would be best to leave Barlow in command on the ship while Sullivan, Henson, and Assistant Engineer Simpson met with the delegation from the planet. Sara Henricks wasn’t invited as the one thing she was rather short of was patience, and it sounded as if that was going to be one of the main requirements on this mission.

  Jon was careful to check the coordinates and confirmed his estimate of three days to reach what had been designated system two. He’d been interested, and a little envious, to learn about the attitude of the civilization on Midea. He hoped his mission would be as fortunate.

  He went through the pre-flight checklist while Manny informed the command center they were getting ready for takeoff. Captain Sullivan and the others had just left in one of the larger shuttles for the planet’s surface.

  “You may launch when ready, Mr. Hardesty,” Barlow said. “Make sure you keep in contact with us as designated, and let us know the moment you make any contact, or when you intend to go into orbit.”

  “Yes, sir. Opening the hangar doors now,” Jon reported, to the background sounds of the warning alarm as the huge doors opened. “Launching now. See you in a few days,” Jon said as he swept the small craft from the ship.

  Jon Hardesty loved nothing better than piloting a craft. He didn’t much care whether it was the graceful Questor, or the more ungainly shuttle vehicle, he just loved the feeling of being in control of a craft as it flew through space.

  As the captain’s shuttle landed on the surface of Midea, it was to find a planet bustling with life; perhaps too much life. High quantities of pollutants were detected in the atmosphere, in particular around the large cities. Huge swathes of countryside all over the planet were kept for agricultural use, but there were also huge city complexes, bigger than anything ever built on Earth. Judging from Earth’s own history the balance was something the Mideans would have to tackle, and soon, if they wanted to protect the long-term viability
of their home world.

  Captain Sullivan said to Henson, “You have your shopping list?”

  “Oh yes, sir. Manny made sure it contained everything he liked!” Henson made a pretense of rolling his eyes as he said it, and Sullivan laughed.

  “I believe we’ve a welcoming committee approaching, Captain,” Simpson said, observing through the shuttle window. “What a sight, eh?”

  “Yes, Mr. Simpson, not something most of us will get to see in a lifetime. Let’s go and greet them. Make sure your personal interpreters are active,” the captain ordered.

  Sullivan left the shuttle and couldn’t believe his luck, and its contradiction. It was every captain’s dream to greet in friendship representatives of another species, but in his case it had become a matter of life and death. Instead of feeling overwhelmed at the idea of meeting an alien face to face, his main concern now was shopping lists.

  They met the delegation halfway. There were four of them, humanoid though somewhat taller and slimmer than humans. It gave them a delicate appearance, almost as if a strong puff of wind would blow them over. Their skin was a distinct white, and they had differing shades of hair color, two were so dark as to be almost black, and the other two were deep red. The hair was of a wispy nature and was worn long and loose down the back. It appeared as if it had been plaited tight and then just shaken loose. At first glance all of them appeared male, and they were wearing one piece outfits in some kind of shiny material that seemed metallic. They approached and made a delicate bow.

  “I am called Mevanwy,” a dark-haired being said. He indicated one of his companions with red hair. “And this is Alvani, my mate. Here we have Polodvy and his mate, Bowani.”

  Sullivan was somewhat taken back by this. It proved one should never make assumptions about alien species. It now appeared hair color was indicative of gender.

  “I am Captain David Sullivan of the Questor. May I present our engineering officer, Robert Simpson, and Martin Henson, our supplies officer?”