"Warm seas, Sky Watcher." I replied. "Sky shells are coming. Sky shells to take Lost Ones from this place, come many tides from Lost One home beyond-sky. Lost One shells come and go this place for few tides, not stay. This one come to stop sky-fire. Make sky fire sleep, not break sky fire. This one wants stop sky fire burning Lost One shells."
Sky Watcher's avatar seemed utterly indifferent to this bold declaration. Somehow, its inscrutable alien features managed to convey a distinct impression that it didn't matter how eloquently I pleaded our case.
Obviously, Sky Watcher required far more substantial proof than mere words could provide.
"Sky shells bring seeds of Enemy, sky shells will burn." Sky Watcher said flatly. "Father of Shells not make sky fire sleep. This one will taste Father of Shells deep life-stuff for Enemy seeds before sky fire sleeps." With a slight motion of his right talon, the hologram indicated a low pedestal set in front of the data terminal pylon. "Father of Shells touch this place here... Make sky fire sleep."
I walked over to examine the pedestal. Reckon there's some sort of sensor gear in there, most probably a rig designed to check the genetic bona fides of anyone or anything intending to shut this cannon down. A raised square surface on the front of the pedestal had a distinctly button-like air about it, practically begging to be pushed.
However, I'm not rising to such obvious bait, at least not quite yet. After all, I didn't come down in the last shower.
I sub-vocalised, addressing the crew. "IANTO, DIGBY... Get everyone over here, but maintain a safe distance. Bring in the Exos and deploy them in a defensive formation, just in case. Events have just taken a rather curious turn."
After confirming that everyone is in position, I reached out and gently touched the square plate.
*doot*
Before I could react, a force field enveloped my right wrist and forearm, completely immobilising it. With a metallic hiss, a hose or cable of some kind detached itself from the pedestal and rose into the air, twisting and coiling with serpentine grace. Okay. That's well beyond unnecessarily creepy. Uneasily, I watched the disc at the cable's end apparently sniffing about my face and upper torso for a moment, then it tracked slowly down my arm. With infinite menace, a large hypodermic needle emerged from the centre of the disc. Never been a huge fan of needles, although I was more dismayed by the bore of that spike. Five millimetres!
What the hell are they after? - A bloody core sample?
Unfortunately, that's when my human side decided to kick in. Believe it or not, I panicked. However, it only took a few seconds of futile struggling to realise that my elbow joint and I would part company well before I overcame the restraining field's grip. Meanwhile, that wicked spike seized the moment, slamming into my forearm with roughly the same force as a .22 bullet. Ouch.
"Not permitted." Sky Watcher snapped. "You are not... Alive. You are a Made Thing. Machine."
I think the point is it's looking for clean organic life, and he aint alive. Heli will probs be up to get stabbed next.
Yes I know that. Obviously it doesn't prove anything if a toaster doesn't have a disease. But seriously, why does that neeedle need to be so dammed big?
"Oh aye, there's not too many who'd notice that." I muttered sourly. "Remind me to bring you up to date on non-invasive scanning technology sometime."
"You are not like other machines here. This one senses tastes of life. Makes confusion in this one."
"Fair enough. No harm done, at any rate." I shrugged. "Sky Watcher, we bring deep life-stuff taken from all Lost Ones touched by Enemy. Enemy seeds are all gone, all burned away. You taste."
"Sky fire small talon will taste. This one must feel same taste as sky fire machine feels. Sky fire must feel same taste as Sky Watcher before sky fire sleeps."
Ah. Now I see what the problem is. There's a safeguard polling system that prevents the weapon from shutting down in error. The cannon's sensors are reading me as a machine, although Sky Watcher has reasonable doubts regarding my true nature. That's what you get for having internal systems that mimic certain biological processes rather too accurately.
IANTO placed the trays containing the colonists' blood sample phials within reach of the cannon's probe, wisely removing their protective caps first, so that the probe could access the contents without destroying them. To my surprise, the flexible proboscis passed delicately and methodically over the containers, dipping its sampling needle gently into each specimen in turn before moving on.
Naturally, we aren't expecting the cannon to shut down purely on the evidence of those samples, although this step was taken in anticipation of any questions that Sky Watcher might ask about the other colonists. This way, we can allow Sky Watcher to verify that all colonists have been exposed to the Kharaa pathogen, and that they are now completely free of any contagion. Admittedly, I wasn't particularly happy about handing over a significant cross-section of the human genome for an alien intelligence to examine in detail. For what it's worth, I don't think that the Precursors or their evolutionary successors are particularly interested in using that information against Terrans.
"All are clean. Enemy is gone from deep life-stuff of Lost Ones." Sky Watcher announced at last.
I breathed a sigh of relief. That's one potential obstacle out of the way, at least. However, someone still has to push that button to shut down the cannon. Someone human. Fortunately, we have two. There's just one small problem.
"Héloise, Enzo... It's all up to you now. Be warned, that probe's needle is going to hurt like billy-o. I can't order either of you to activate the shutdown button, although it still has to be done. I can't even risk administering a local anaesthetic beforehand, in case it screws up the probe's readings. Basically... Who wants to be stabbed?"
Héloise shrugged casually. "Pfui. It wouldn't be the first time, my Captain." With a wry chuckle, she hiked her thumb at Enzo. "Regardez là, the poor kid's turning green just thinking about it... Guess I'll have to do it anyway."
Without another word, Héloise strode purposefully towards the pedestal, unsealing the lower sleeve of her dive suit to expose her right forearm. She paused briefly, mentally preparing herself for the ordeal, then reached out to press the button. The force field activated, locking her arm into place. As before, the probe extended its hypodermic and searched for a place to strike. Contact.
"Not permitted. Other life form is detected." Sky Watcher said flatly.
Yes I know that. Obviously it doesn't prove anything if a toaster doesn't have a disease. But seriously, why does that neeedle need to be so dammed big?
Héloise and I exchanged sheepish glances. Whoops. Cat's well and truly out of the bag now.
Gobsmacked by this sudden bombshell, Enzo could do little else but gape in stunned surprise. Naturally, the crew were grinning like Cheshire cats. After all, the modifications they installed during the recent rebuild of the old corpus Selkirki had made this feat possible. Without being too indelicate about this whole process, I guess you could say her pregnancy was a team effort. Incidentally, that beard modification was only a minor footnote on Héloise's wish-list.
"Yes, this one is carrying a child... Our daughter." I declared, not without a wee hint of pride.
"Not possible. You are machine!" Sky Watcher protested. "You cannot create life."
"Technically, no. Let's just say that 2172 CE was a vintage year for human DNA. Mine, in particular."
"This one does not understand your words, Father of Shells." Sky Watcher admitted.
"Alexander Selkirk saved deep life-stuff frozen in cold machine, Sky Watcher. This one used life-stuff to make new life, many, many tides later." I explained.
Héloise stepped aside from the pedestal, cautiously cradling her right arm. I motioned to IANTO, and he passed me a med-kit. Surprisingly, there was no blood seeping from the deep puncture wound. No serious damage done to subdermal tissue, muscles or bone. I suspected that an absence of blood might be attributed to a localised coagulation effect applied by the probe. My own wound had already began to fuse shut, although that was a sure sign that my nano-repair system already had the matter well in hand.
After tending to Héloise, I clapped Enzo heartily on his shoulder. "It's all down to you now, mate. Your moment to shine has come at last. Be magnificent."
Frankly, I'd hate to be in his shoes right now.
To his credit, Enzo only hesitated for a few seconds, then he was unsealing his sleeve and heading towards the pedestal in a completely businesslike manner. I followed alongside him, more for moral support than anything else. Héloise grinned fiercely at the lad as he passed, pumping her (good) fist in a 'Go get 'em, Tiger!' gesture calculated to inspire confidence. Only I could see his wretched expression, eyes half-closed in fearful dread. Standard Issue Blue Funk. Happens to the best of us.
"Buck up, laddie." I whispered. "It's going to be over in the blink of an eye. You can do this, Enzo."
I positioned Enzo directly in front of the pedestal, then moved to one side and turned to face him.
"In your own time, press yon button. Just keep your eyes fixed on mine, and you'll be okay."
Enzo nodded glumly, extending his trembling right hand towards the button. As soon as his fingers brushed against the button, the force field engaged. Sure of its mark now, the probe zeroed in on his forearm almost immediately. As its needle extruded and hung poised to strike, I popped the burning question.
"Hey... What would be a good name for our baby? I'm fair tapped out for ideas."
Enzo blinked uncertainly, his intense concentration suddenly scattered to the winds.
Ok, I'm not sure I'm buying that he had the foresight to freeze some sperm, just in case he might want to have a child hundreds of years later. I mean, is that really going to be what's going through his head when stranded on an alien planet and making his plan for transferring himself to a mechanical body?
Whatever though, it's your story. Just doesn't seem very plausible.
Clever tactic at the end. I found that talking to someone during blood tests diverts your attention from the needle so you won't feel much, or anything at all. Of course, I haven't tried that with a giant alien biopsy needle.
"This one is clean. Sky fire sleep-word is accepted." Sky Watcher said.
The restraining field dissipated at once, freeing Enzo's arm from the device. All colour had drained from his face, his jaw still locked in a tight grimace of pain. Uh-oh, there he goes. I caught him before he pitched face-first onto the deck, his legs buckling like a pair of over-cooked noodles. Classic shock reaction.
You wouldn't believe how many folks go for the face-plant after donating blood, and it's not just the weedy ones, either. I've seen some burly He-Man types topple like felled trees at the sight of their own blood in a hypo-sampler. In no small way, Héloise and Enzo took one for the team today.
The control pedestal retracted silently into the deck, its task completed. I lowered Enzo into the recovery position and turned to face Sky Watcher's hologram.
"DIGBY, please attend to Mister Savini here. I need to have a few more words with Sky Watcher."
"Aye, Sir." DIGBY replied briskly. He sprinted over to our position, med-kit held at the ready.
"This one lives. Why does it not move?" Sky Watcher asked, sounding a mite concerned for once.
"Och, just a wee fainting spell... No harm done. His shell is unbroken, Sky Watcher. This one sleeps."
"That is good. This one meant no harm." Sky Watcher replied solicitously.
"That is good, Sky Watcher. All Lost Ones swim with you. You feed our minds with your words."
All social niceties are done and dusted. Now, down to brass tacks.
"Sky fire sleeps. Our sky-shells will come. Stay for few tides, then go. All make no harm to This Place. Soon after, this one takes all Lost Ones back to first home, far above-sky. Will sky fire break sky shells? Will Sky Watcher break sky shells?"
"Sky fire sleeps until Enemy comes. Lost Ones are clean. Sky shells are clean, sky fire will not wake."
"This is good. These ones swim free by your words. Warm seas, Sky Watcher."
"Warm seas, Father of Shells. Swim free." Sky Watcher replied, adding a graceful gesture of respect.
I responded in kind, and his hologram simply faded away. Our business here is officially concluded.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Ensign Savini." I said cheerily. "You came over a bit mazey back there, but you haven't missed much. As far as Sky Watcher is concerned, we're all free and clear to go. The quarantine has been lifted, thanks to you. By the by, let's not forget that Madame Maida also bravely stepped up to the mark, and was not found wanting. I conjure that calls for a wee jug-up before heading back to The Broch. What do you say, mates?"
For the time being, those Precursor portals can go and hang. I'm certain they would be all kinds of fascinating, but we've got far more important things to do now. As soon as we were back aboard and underway, I contacted Captain Halvorsen and informed him of the situation as it now stands.
"That's excellent news, Selkirk!" Halvorsen replied. "I can have a shuttle prepped within the hour. Do your people require anything by way of supplies? We might be able to spare some basic meds or sundry other items, but don't ask for deuterium or pâte foie gras. Anything else, no problem."
"Thanks for offering, Captain. We're good. However, I'll need you to transmit the blueprints and specs for that shuttle, purely on the off chance that something goes wrong. At the moment, we're heading in to the colony's pub for a wee dram. Got me a pair of wounded mariners sorely in need of a bracing pick-me-up. I'll resume contact with you as soon as we've docked. Selkirk out."
After docking at Kaori-san no-shima, the crew immediately headed off to enjoy some liquid R&R at Margaritaville. Even though Héloise made me swear ringing oaths that I won't be long, I fully intend to join them later.
There's still some urgent business with the Carl Sagan that needs to be addressed.
"Kaori-san no-shima Base to Carl Sagan Actual. Please respond."
"Halvorsen here. Proceed, Captain Selkirk."
"I have a few last-minute details for you, Captain Halvorsen. Remember, your shuttle must be unmanned and thoroughly decontaminated inside and out prior to launch. Please be advised that these are particularly important requirements. The Precursor weapon has been shut down and safe passage has been guaranteed by the entity controlling it. However, that safe passage agreement is contingent on a complete absence of viable Kharaa genetic material onboard. Incidentally, have any of your crew previously served active duty as Frontiersmen?"
"One moment, please. I'll check our records." Halvorsen replied. "Okay. That's a negative to your last, Captain Selkirk. No members of ship's company are recorded as having served with TSF in any capacity. Full civilian complement, all current medical records are uploading to your link now."
"Excellent. I've already received your shuttle data and blueprints, so we're good to go at this end. I'll be sending 500 litres of processed deuterium to tide you over for the time being, as well as two week's supply of immunization derms for your crew. Those derms need to be applied daily for five consecutive days to take effect. It's absolutely imperative that everyone aboard Carl Sagan receives this vaccine. No exceptions whatsoever. If any serious adverse reactions do occur, please cease treatment and advise us immediately. The Kharaa vaccine has manifested no side-effects so far, although it has only been used on a very small cross-section of population. Better safe than sorry."
"Received and understood, Captain. Has a suitable landing platform been prepared yet?"
"Affirmative. I am transmitting the approach vector and landing co-ordinates now. Please configure your shuttle's in-flight systems for handover of atmospheric entry and final approach under remote command at our end. Landing beacon transponder ID: Sierra, Alfa, Zero, One. 'Skull Island."
"Data received. Under these circumstances, I fully understand your caution, Sir. There's far too much at stake for both of our crews. Shuttle Sunbeam will be prepped for launch immediately. Estimated transit time, 6.5 hours. Please accept our most sincere thanks for your able assistance."
"Thank you, Captain Halvorsen. Looking forward to having you join us. Godspeed to you all."
"And you also, Sir. Go join your mates and enjoy a cold one for me... Halvorsen, out."
The craic was nicely underway by the time I strolled into Margaritaville. Apart from a handful of colonists enjoying a quiet one before turning in for the night, the place was practically empty. I noted with approval that Héloise and Enzo were not quite screechers yet, although there were signs that they'd sunk at least two shots of the good stuff before wisely settling down on wine and beer. Their heads might be sore later on, but I figured it was best for everyone to unwind a bit tonight. Fair dos, considering things are starting to look up for once. Face it, almost every day on this planet has been an uphill battle thus far, so we're well overdue for some sweetness and light. If all goes well in a little over six hours time, there should be more than enough reasons for everyone to celebrate.
"Howay, lads and lasses!" I boomed cheerfully. "Halvorsen says his shuttle's about to launch, and we can expect its arrival sometime shortly before dawn." I pecked Héloise fondly on the cheek and sat down beside her. "First order of business, a toast to ye all!"
DIGBY nipped over to the bar and poured out a goodly measure of whisky, then darted back and set the brimming tumbler before me.
"Well spotted, that man. Man can't raise a toast without a wee nippie afore him. Thanks, old son." I waited until DIGBY had resumed his seat, then continued. "As I was saying, I'd like to propose a toast to your mighty works today. I could'na ask for more fearless companions. Hearts of oak, my jolly lads and lasses." I raised my glass, fit to burst with the genuine admiration I felt for them all.
The crew responded enthusiastically, downing their drinks in one go. After the toast, I excused myself from the table and quickly set up the crew with another round. By now, we had drawn the attention of the other colonists in the bar, so I invited their group over to join us.
I'd say 'total amazement' was a fair description of the colonists' reaction as they watched the holographic replay. However, when Sky Watcher announced that Héloise's scan was registering a second life-sign, that amazement turned instantly to good-natured disbelief, as well as some fairly coarse jokes at my expense. Rather than spoil the moment, I simply bit the bullet and explained everything.
"Tsembe, mate, it's absolutely true. Scout's honour. Yes, I have fathered a child with Madame Maida. Au naturel, in actual fact." I said bluntly. "Nothing even remotely miraculous about it. All it needed was a few minutes of quiet time, a brisk flick of the wrist and a Svalbard Mark III genetic cryo-stasis pod. Granted, that chip off the old Selkirk block was made nigh on a century ago, but the pod's power-cells remained active and it functioned perfectly the whole time. Okay, so I might have exceeded the recommended stasis period by 100 per cent, but I'm no' aboot tae ask for a refund. Those wee buggers thawed out nicely, and lo and behold, they still worked. Happy now?"
Tsembe Kala's face split in a toothy grin. "Makes sense to me meneer, but I still can't figure out why you'd bother saving your mojo way back when, specially without any women around at the time. Didn't your ship have clone tanks or something?"
I took a thoughtful sip of my drink before replying.
"Oh, aye. Standard company procedure, mainly used when the Valkyrie Field fails. If we can't be revived normally, the material stored in the gene banks is used to create a clone, then it's just a matter of reloading the dearly departed's most recent memory template. Of course, there's no way I'd use stolen genetic material to create other humans. The ship's cloning tanks and memory archives were destroyed in the crash, anyway. Only 127 intact gene pods were recovered from Aurora, and they're coming home to Terra. It's the least I could do."
Comments
Sky Watcher's avatar seemed utterly indifferent to this bold declaration. Somehow, its inscrutable alien features managed to convey a distinct impression that it didn't matter how eloquently I pleaded our case.
Obviously, Sky Watcher required far more substantial proof than mere words could provide.
"Sky shells bring seeds of Enemy, sky shells will burn." Sky Watcher said flatly. "Father of Shells not make sky fire sleep. This one will taste Father of Shells deep life-stuff for Enemy seeds before sky fire sleeps." With a slight motion of his right talon, the hologram indicated a low pedestal set in front of the data terminal pylon. "Father of Shells touch this place here... Make sky fire sleep."
I walked over to examine the pedestal. Reckon there's some sort of sensor gear in there, most probably a rig designed to check the genetic bona fides of anyone or anything intending to shut this cannon down. A raised square surface on the front of the pedestal had a distinctly button-like air about it, practically begging to be pushed.
However, I'm not rising to such obvious bait, at least not quite yet. After all, I didn't come down in the last shower.
I sub-vocalised, addressing the crew. "IANTO, DIGBY... Get everyone over here, but maintain a safe distance. Bring in the Exos and deploy them in a defensive formation, just in case. Events have just taken a rather curious turn."
After confirming that everyone is in position, I reached out and gently touched the square plate.
*doot*
Before I could react, a force field enveloped my right wrist and forearm, completely immobilising it. With a metallic hiss, a hose or cable of some kind detached itself from the pedestal and rose into the air, twisting and coiling with serpentine grace. Okay. That's well beyond unnecessarily creepy. Uneasily, I watched the disc at the cable's end apparently sniffing about my face and upper torso for a moment, then it tracked slowly down my arm. With infinite menace, a large hypodermic needle emerged from the centre of the disc. Never been a huge fan of needles, although I was more dismayed by the bore of that spike. Five millimetres!
What the hell are they after? - A bloody core sample?
Unfortunately, that's when my human side decided to kick in. Believe it or not, I panicked. However, it only took a few seconds of futile struggling to realise that my elbow joint and I would part company well before I overcame the restraining field's grip. Meanwhile, that wicked spike seized the moment, slamming into my forearm with roughly the same force as a .22 bullet. Ouch.
"Not permitted." Sky Watcher snapped. "You are not... Alive. You are a Made Thing. Machine."
I think the point is it's looking for clean organic life, and he aint alive. Heli will probs be up to get stabbed next.
Yes I know that. Obviously it doesn't prove anything if a toaster doesn't have a disease. But seriously, why does that neeedle need to be so dammed big?
"You are not like other machines here. This one senses tastes of life. Makes confusion in this one."
"Fair enough. No harm done, at any rate." I shrugged. "Sky Watcher, we bring deep life-stuff taken from all Lost Ones touched by Enemy. Enemy seeds are all gone, all burned away. You taste."
"Sky fire small talon will taste. This one must feel same taste as sky fire machine feels. Sky fire must feel same taste as Sky Watcher before sky fire sleeps."
Ah. Now I see what the problem is. There's a safeguard polling system that prevents the weapon from shutting down in error. The cannon's sensors are reading me as a machine, although Sky Watcher has reasonable doubts regarding my true nature. That's what you get for having internal systems that mimic certain biological processes rather too accurately.
IANTO placed the trays containing the colonists' blood sample phials within reach of the cannon's probe, wisely removing their protective caps first, so that the probe could access the contents without destroying them. To my surprise, the flexible proboscis passed delicately and methodically over the containers, dipping its sampling needle gently into each specimen in turn before moving on.
Naturally, we aren't expecting the cannon to shut down purely on the evidence of those samples, although this step was taken in anticipation of any questions that Sky Watcher might ask about the other colonists. This way, we can allow Sky Watcher to verify that all colonists have been exposed to the Kharaa pathogen, and that they are now completely free of any contagion. Admittedly, I wasn't particularly happy about handing over a significant cross-section of the human genome for an alien intelligence to examine in detail. For what it's worth, I don't think that the Precursors or their evolutionary successors are particularly interested in using that information against Terrans.
"All are clean. Enemy is gone from deep life-stuff of Lost Ones." Sky Watcher announced at last.
I breathed a sigh of relief. That's one potential obstacle out of the way, at least. However, someone still has to push that button to shut down the cannon. Someone human. Fortunately, we have two. There's just one small problem.
"Héloise, Enzo... It's all up to you now. Be warned, that probe's needle is going to hurt like billy-o. I can't order either of you to activate the shutdown button, although it still has to be done. I can't even risk administering a local anaesthetic beforehand, in case it screws up the probe's readings. Basically... Who wants to be stabbed?"
Héloise shrugged casually. "Pfui. It wouldn't be the first time, my Captain." With a wry chuckle, she hiked her thumb at Enzo. "Regardez là, the poor kid's turning green just thinking about it... Guess I'll have to do it anyway."
Without another word, Héloise strode purposefully towards the pedestal, unsealing the lower sleeve of her dive suit to expose her right forearm. She paused briefly, mentally preparing herself for the ordeal, then reached out to press the button. The force field activated, locking her arm into place. As before, the probe extended its hypodermic and searched for a place to strike. Contact.
"Not permitted. Other life form is detected." Sky Watcher said flatly.
It's a biopsy punch. Some of those suckers have a frighteningly large bore. http://www.medline.com/product/Acu-Punch-Small-and-Medium-Size-Punches-by-Acuderm/Biopsy-Punches/Z05-PF84207?question=&index=P4&indexCount=4
Or is Heloise secretly some kind of crazy alien all along?!!?
Probably not.
If she's pregnant then Selkirk is going to be pissed, given that it's physically impossible that it's his.
Any of these events will have some consequences that I'm looking forward to enjoy
Still can't wait the new episode...
I DON'T READ FANFIC FOR ANY REASON, EVER
Me now:
OMG how am I just now discovering this??
Gobsmacked by this sudden bombshell, Enzo could do little else but gape in stunned surprise. Naturally, the crew were grinning like Cheshire cats. After all, the modifications they installed during the recent rebuild of the old corpus Selkirki had made this feat possible. Without being too indelicate about this whole process, I guess you could say her pregnancy was a team effort. Incidentally, that beard modification was only a minor footnote on Héloise's wish-list.
"Yes, this one is carrying a child... Our daughter." I declared, not without a wee hint of pride.
"Not possible. You are machine!" Sky Watcher protested. "You cannot create life."
"Technically, no. Let's just say that 2172 CE was a vintage year for human DNA. Mine, in particular."
"This one does not understand your words, Father of Shells." Sky Watcher admitted.
"Alexander Selkirk saved deep life-stuff frozen in cold machine, Sky Watcher. This one used life-stuff to make new life, many, many tides later." I explained.
Héloise stepped aside from the pedestal, cautiously cradling her right arm. I motioned to IANTO, and he passed me a med-kit. Surprisingly, there was no blood seeping from the deep puncture wound. No serious damage done to subdermal tissue, muscles or bone. I suspected that an absence of blood might be attributed to a localised coagulation effect applied by the probe. My own wound had already began to fuse shut, although that was a sure sign that my nano-repair system already had the matter well in hand.
After tending to Héloise, I clapped Enzo heartily on his shoulder. "It's all down to you now, mate. Your moment to shine has come at last. Be magnificent."
Frankly, I'd hate to be in his shoes right now.
To his credit, Enzo only hesitated for a few seconds, then he was unsealing his sleeve and heading towards the pedestal in a completely businesslike manner. I followed alongside him, more for moral support than anything else. Héloise grinned fiercely at the lad as he passed, pumping her (good) fist in a 'Go get 'em, Tiger!' gesture calculated to inspire confidence. Only I could see his wretched expression, eyes half-closed in fearful dread. Standard Issue Blue Funk. Happens to the best of us.
"Buck up, laddie." I whispered. "It's going to be over in the blink of an eye. You can do this, Enzo."
I positioned Enzo directly in front of the pedestal, then moved to one side and turned to face him.
"In your own time, press yon button. Just keep your eyes fixed on mine, and you'll be okay."
Enzo nodded glumly, extending his trembling right hand towards the button. As soon as his fingers brushed against the button, the force field engaged. Sure of its mark now, the probe zeroed in on his forearm almost immediately. As its needle extruded and hung poised to strike, I popped the burning question.
"Hey... What would be a good name for our baby? I'm fair tapped out for ideas."
Enzo blinked uncertainly, his intense concentration suddenly scattered to the winds.
Zap.
'tis done.
Wanna bet?
Whatever though, it's your story. Just doesn't seem very plausible.
ERROR 1024: LOGICAL EXPLANATION NOT FOUND.
The restraining field dissipated at once, freeing Enzo's arm from the device. All colour had drained from his face, his jaw still locked in a tight grimace of pain. Uh-oh, there he goes. I caught him before he pitched face-first onto the deck, his legs buckling like a pair of over-cooked noodles. Classic shock reaction.
You wouldn't believe how many folks go for the face-plant after donating blood, and it's not just the weedy ones, either. I've seen some burly He-Man types topple like felled trees at the sight of their own blood in a hypo-sampler. In no small way, Héloise and Enzo took one for the team today.
The control pedestal retracted silently into the deck, its task completed. I lowered Enzo into the recovery position and turned to face Sky Watcher's hologram.
"DIGBY, please attend to Mister Savini here. I need to have a few more words with Sky Watcher."
"Aye, Sir." DIGBY replied briskly. He sprinted over to our position, med-kit held at the ready.
"This one lives. Why does it not move?" Sky Watcher asked, sounding a mite concerned for once.
"Och, just a wee fainting spell... No harm done. His shell is unbroken, Sky Watcher. This one sleeps."
"That is good. This one meant no harm." Sky Watcher replied solicitously.
"That is good, Sky Watcher. All Lost Ones swim with you. You feed our minds with your words."
All social niceties are done and dusted. Now, down to brass tacks.
"Sky fire sleeps. Our sky-shells will come. Stay for few tides, then go. All make no harm to This Place. Soon after, this one takes all Lost Ones back to first home, far above-sky. Will sky fire break sky shells? Will Sky Watcher break sky shells?"
"Sky fire sleeps until Enemy comes. Lost Ones are clean. Sky shells are clean, sky fire will not wake."
"This is good. These ones swim free by your words. Warm seas, Sky Watcher."
"Warm seas, Father of Shells. Swim free." Sky Watcher replied, adding a graceful gesture of respect.
I responded in kind, and his hologram simply faded away. Our business here is officially concluded.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Ensign Savini." I said cheerily. "You came over a bit mazey back there, but you haven't missed much. As far as Sky Watcher is concerned, we're all free and clear to go. The quarantine has been lifted, thanks to you. By the by, let's not forget that Madame Maida also bravely stepped up to the mark, and was not found wanting. I conjure that calls for a wee jug-up before heading back to The Broch. What do you say, mates?"
For the time being, those Precursor portals can go and hang. I'm certain they would be all kinds of fascinating, but we've got far more important things to do now. As soon as we were back aboard and underway, I contacted Captain Halvorsen and informed him of the situation as it now stands.
"That's excellent news, Selkirk!" Halvorsen replied. "I can have a shuttle prepped within the hour. Do your people require anything by way of supplies? We might be able to spare some basic meds or sundry other items, but don't ask for deuterium or pâte foie gras. Anything else, no problem."
"Thanks for offering, Captain. We're good. However, I'll need you to transmit the blueprints and specs for that shuttle, purely on the off chance that something goes wrong. At the moment, we're heading in to the colony's pub for a wee dram. Got me a pair of wounded mariners sorely in need of a bracing pick-me-up. I'll resume contact with you as soon as we've docked. Selkirk out."
After docking at Kaori-san no-shima, the crew immediately headed off to enjoy some liquid R&R at Margaritaville. Even though Héloise made me swear ringing oaths that I won't be long, I fully intend to join them later.
There's still some urgent business with the Carl Sagan that needs to be addressed.
"Kaori-san no-shima Base to Carl Sagan Actual. Please respond."
"Halvorsen here. Proceed, Captain Selkirk."
"I have a few last-minute details for you, Captain Halvorsen. Remember, your shuttle must be unmanned and thoroughly decontaminated inside and out prior to launch. Please be advised that these are particularly important requirements. The Precursor weapon has been shut down and safe passage has been guaranteed by the entity controlling it. However, that safe passage agreement is contingent on a complete absence of viable Kharaa genetic material onboard. Incidentally, have any of your crew previously served active duty as Frontiersmen?"
"One moment, please. I'll check our records." Halvorsen replied. "Okay. That's a negative to your last, Captain Selkirk. No members of ship's company are recorded as having served with TSF in any capacity. Full civilian complement, all current medical records are uploading to your link now."
"Excellent. I've already received your shuttle data and blueprints, so we're good to go at this end. I'll be sending 500 litres of processed deuterium to tide you over for the time being, as well as two week's supply of immunization derms for your crew. Those derms need to be applied daily for five consecutive days to take effect. It's absolutely imperative that everyone aboard Carl Sagan receives this vaccine. No exceptions whatsoever. If any serious adverse reactions do occur, please cease treatment and advise us immediately. The Kharaa vaccine has manifested no side-effects so far, although it has only been used on a very small cross-section of population. Better safe than sorry."
"Received and understood, Captain. Has a suitable landing platform been prepared yet?"
"Affirmative. I am transmitting the approach vector and landing co-ordinates now. Please configure your shuttle's in-flight systems for handover of atmospheric entry and final approach under remote command at our end. Landing beacon transponder ID: Sierra, Alfa, Zero, One. 'Skull Island."
"Data received. Under these circumstances, I fully understand your caution, Sir. There's far too much at stake for both of our crews. Shuttle Sunbeam will be prepped for launch immediately. Estimated transit time, 6.5 hours. Please accept our most sincere thanks for your able assistance."
"Thank you, Captain Halvorsen. Looking forward to having you join us. Godspeed to you all."
"And you also, Sir. Go join your mates and enjoy a cold one for me... Halvorsen, out."
Noooo... Don't break my heart like this!
Ah, but this time it should be unmanned. Even if Sky Watcher thinks its a threat and shoots it down, no lives will be lost.
It should be unmanned. Assuming we take everything at face value here, it will be unmanned...
"Howay, lads and lasses!" I boomed cheerfully. "Halvorsen says his shuttle's about to launch, and we can expect its arrival sometime shortly before dawn." I pecked Héloise fondly on the cheek and sat down beside her. "First order of business, a toast to ye all!"
DIGBY nipped over to the bar and poured out a goodly measure of whisky, then darted back and set the brimming tumbler before me.
"Well spotted, that man. Man can't raise a toast without a wee nippie afore him. Thanks, old son." I waited until DIGBY had resumed his seat, then continued. "As I was saying, I'd like to propose a toast to your mighty works today. I could'na ask for more fearless companions. Hearts of oak, my jolly lads and lasses." I raised my glass, fit to burst with the genuine admiration I felt for them all.
The crew responded enthusiastically, downing their drinks in one go. After the toast, I excused myself from the table and quickly set up the crew with another round. By now, we had drawn the attention of the other colonists in the bar, so I invited their group over to join us.
I'd say 'total amazement' was a fair description of the colonists' reaction as they watched the holographic replay. However, when Sky Watcher announced that Héloise's scan was registering a second life-sign, that amazement turned instantly to good-natured disbelief, as well as some fairly coarse jokes at my expense. Rather than spoil the moment, I simply bit the bullet and explained everything.
"Tsembe, mate, it's absolutely true. Scout's honour. Yes, I have fathered a child with Madame Maida. Au naturel, in actual fact." I said bluntly. "Nothing even remotely miraculous about it. All it needed was a few minutes of quiet time, a brisk flick of the wrist and a Svalbard Mark III genetic cryo-stasis pod. Granted, that chip off the old Selkirk block was made nigh on a century ago, but the pod's power-cells remained active and it functioned perfectly the whole time. Okay, so I might have exceeded the recommended stasis period by 100 per cent, but I'm no' aboot tae ask for a refund. Those wee buggers thawed out nicely, and lo and behold, they still worked. Happy now?"
Tsembe Kala's face split in a toothy grin. "Makes sense to me meneer, but I still can't figure out why you'd bother saving your mojo way back when, specially without any women around at the time. Didn't your ship have clone tanks or something?"
I took a thoughtful sip of my drink before replying.
"Oh, aye. Standard company procedure, mainly used when the Valkyrie Field fails. If we can't be revived normally, the material stored in the gene banks is used to create a clone, then it's just a matter of reloading the dearly departed's most recent memory template. Of course, there's no way I'd use stolen genetic material to create other humans. The ship's cloning tanks and memory archives were destroyed in the crash, anyway. Only 127 intact gene pods were recovered from Aurora, and they're coming home to Terra. It's the least I could do."
Read it and weep.