The Colchester

June 19

"He passes to be King among the dead,
And after healing of his grievous wound
He comes again."
- Alfred, Lord Tennyson, "Idylls of the King "

-----

Analysis had been successful.

Examination of the data obtained from the HAL AI had given us what we needed to triangulate the current position of Wylder Aurotharius' survey ship, the Colchester.

As the location of the HAL AI played a role in this small victory, it was also a vindication of our renewed funding of Lab 81.

With me on this mission was Lieutenant Ceasar Otsuka, Mission Specialist and close personal friend.

We actually had a relationship of sorts a few years ago, before I made Captain. A combination of difference in rank and a stressful workload made it impossible to maintain even on a casual level.

Nevertheless, we remained on good terms and whenever we worked together we kept things on a professional level. He was set to return to civilian life soon, but a recent troop rotation meant I could add his name to my team roster at least one more time.

As our shuttle departed the hanger bay of the Alliance Monitoring Station, I began the briefing.

"Twenty five years ago, one of our top scientists, Wylder Aurotharius, led a team of researchers in a project to explore the application of cybernetics, robotics, Artificial Intelligence and other disciplines. Dubbed 'Project Aurotharius' it met with some early successes. After about five years however the project was shelved. The records sealed."

"Sealed?" asked Ceasar, "Not as successful as they'd hoped?"

"Early returns were good I am told."

"Yes," he acknowledged, "but there's only two reasons to seal. One, it worked out so well the needed to keep a lid on it. Two, it went very, very bad."

I nodded thoughtfully.

"My gut is saying number two," he added.

In the distance, an electrical blue sphere hung in space like a jewel.

I continued, "After the project closed and following the untimely death of his daughter Audrey.... Wylder, already a widower, chose a solitary existence aboard a small survey ship and headed out to the Halo Asteroid Belt. After one month the ship stopped transmissions. Rescue attempts were unsuccessful."

Ceasar gestured to the ship outside. "Is this it?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Yeah," he evaluated the scenario, "Number two."

I continued, "Recently obtained documents gave us a solid lead as to its whereabouts. Our mission is simple: We will gain access by any means necessary..."

"Simple."

"...We will remove any and all documents, artifacts and/or materials present, and we will look for clues as to the fate of Professor Aurotharius."

I paused for a moment.

"Someone has resumed the Project outside of UAP control," I added to emphasize the importance of the task ahead.

"Ma'am, with all due respect..."

"Yes Lieutenant?"

"That doesn't sound THAT simple."

I smiled.

-----

The shuttle craft powered down. I unbuckled myself from my chair and reached for my helmet.

We checked seals and communications.

"Testing comm."

"I read you, Major."

I worked the airlock controls and we stepped out into the Black.

There was a remarkable feeling of freedom as we drifted towards the other ship.

-----

The Colchester was an odd looking craft. The whole affair looked like a child's suction cup ball suspended within a glass orb.

One section of the heavy shielding that surrounded the surveyor was open, exposing a dish antenna and permitting access to the hull.

Ceasar keyed his pad into the door lock. His voice crackled over the comm. "What was his daughter's name?"

"Audrey," I replied, my voice sounding muffled in my helmet.

The door remained sealed.

"Try Ardra," I suggested.

"Nothin'," he replied.

"Colchester, it is the name of the ship," I said helpfully.

"Nope."

We tried several other ideas.

"None of them are working," reported Ceasar, "Did he have a favorite song or holie?"

"Let me think....can you get a fix on internal monitors?"

"I can't be sure," he answered.

"Lots of interference," I said. It was more of a question.

Ceasar twisted his mouth into a wry smile.

"Your thoughts?" I asked.

"I think we're simply blocked, Ma'am."

"Then let's blow the hatch," I said finally.

"Sounds good to me." Ceasar placed a small charge at the junction of the door. "Better pull back, Ma'am."

I pushed back from the surveyor drifting to a safe distance.

Ceasar hit a key on his pad and there was a flash. Silent in the vacuum of space. Instinctively, I blinked at the explosion.

As the smoke and dust blew out, Ceasar pointed at something inside.

-----

A computer dome dominated the center of the main floor. Iridescent shafts fed information back and forth from the main computer to the dish antenna. Around the walls monitors flashed and beeped.

What drew our attention however was a coffin like structure on one side of the room. A figure prone within. Surrounded by artifacts like a Viking lord on his way to the underworld.

"Is this...?" he began.

"Wylder," I replied, "In stasis."

Ceasar checked the readings on the module. "This will be interesting."

Suspended above the cryotank was a picture. A group of people. The last thing Wylder saw as hibernation overtook him.

I grew numb as I inspected the portrait, but I kept my breathing steady and my thoughts to myself.

In the center of the photograph standing next to Wylder Aurotharius, was a familiar figure albeit twenty years younger and wearing the uniform of a junior officer: A_______ M_______, the man who was now my commanding officer.

Meanwhile, following standard salvage protocol, Ceasar checked the central computer.

"Getting something, Ma'am," he reported. "Looks like all the info is still on here."

"We will download everything."

I joined him at the console.

Quantum Mind Data Disk....

Antimatter Data Disk....

Monopoles Data Disk....

A total of six sealed files.

"There are books here too," I observed, turning back to the stasis tube.

Five books laid out in a row along the side of the cryotank. Borges. Solzhenitsyn. Kafka. Shelley. Companions on the journey into the Long Night.

"So that's what those are," remarked Ceasar.

"He is an interesting man, our professor," I added.

"The cost of the weight of those things..."

I smiled. Spoken like a true spacer.

Ceasar indicated the picture. "Who's that person standing to the side?"

"Well,"that's Wylder in the middle." I frowned. "The little one holding the pig....." Was that a young Mercedes?

"I mean to the far right," prompted Ceasar.

"I don't know her," I said truthfully.

"Family photo, right?" he asked.

"Maybe. Then that might be Audrey." I pointed to the red headed girl, based on her apparent age.

"If she was a favorite daughter," speculated Ceasar, "wouldn't she be separated from the others?"

"The dark haired one? Possibly."

I looked down at Wylder. "We will just have to ask him," I said.

But the truth was I was thinking of asking someone else. Colonel M_______. I just didn't know what I would say.

-----

"Let's try to find the cargo bay," I suggested.

"This doesn't look like most survey ships I've seen."

"It is unique," I admitted, "Like Wylder himself I'll bet."

Ceasar checked the system monitor. "Cargo hold is right below this deck."

The deck itself was a smooth disk broken only by the computer which appeared to be sunken into the floor. A close examination revealed controls by which the device could be removed.

Once we raised the computer, we discovered that it was not a dome, as I had originally thought, but rather a complete sphere. Everything - floor, shafts, equipment - radiated from this one object. It added to the impression that we were inside the belly of an enormous artificial satellite, rather than a craft designed for human travel.

"That's it," declared Ceasar, once the way was clear to the lower compartment, "Shall we?"

"Yes."

Ceasar led the way down. As gravity was confined to the main deck he floated into the storage cavity.

"Holy go-su!" he cried.

"What did you find?" I asked peering through the gap in the floor.

"Crapload of boxes, Ma'am. Containment crates."

Approximately two dozen crates where clustered against the outer hull. That way for who knows how many years...

"Will they open?" I asked.

Ceasar answered, "I'll try."

I launched myself into the weightless cargo hold.

"I can't open them here," he reported.

We examined the collection. Each crate had a unique identifier. A series of symbols and numbers in bright holographic text.





"This is a lot of stuff, Major."

"We will take what we can," I replied, "and send a team up for the rest." Getting Wylder himself to safety was our top priority.





"What could be in all of these?" he asked





"This will keep our analysis team busy for a while. Could just be supplies for his journey." I speculated.

"Not just thrown down like this," Ceasar disagreed.





And with such odd script. Familiar...

"Let's head back," I said.

----

In short order we had Wydler, his computer, his equipment and personal effects loaded aboard the shuttle. We also took a sampling of the containment crates. I would send a second team to clear the hold.

Ceasar checked the air, then started to remove his helmet.

"The markings on the crates..." I suddenly remembered where I had seen that script before. "...engineering and science notation used at the Zenobian Polytechnic," I explained, "I'll need to get it translated."

I didn't have many contacts in the scientific community. Time to correct that.

I settled into my seat and began the pre-flight sequence. A retinal scan and the shuttle nav computer recognized me. Caine Shuttlepod whispered, "Pilot Pepper Siamendes."

"Start." I commanded.

"FTL Drive online," responded the computer.

"I don't envy you this, Ma'am," said Ceasar.

I shrugged a little. Cryptic markings were the least of my concerns. My thoughts kept going back to the picture.

-----

Ceasar monitored the comm traffic, while I steered our craft back towards the Alliance station.

"Your help on this mission has been invaluable," I began.

"Then I end my service term on a high note," he answered.

Ah yes. I wondered if we would talk about that.

"I do wish you would reconsider," I admitted.

"I've been in 15 years. I do want to go home."

I nodded giving him a smile. "And you deserve it..."

"Already have a job lined up."

"Oh?" I asked.

"Captain of the police in Spinwheel. Not the small town I grew up in, but not far from it either."

I brightened, "That's wonderful!"

Ceasar looked a little surprised at my comment.

"So you are staying in law enforcement," I explained. An excuse to keep in touch.

"It's what I know and do well."

"Indeed," I agreed.

Ceasar's eyes narrowed a little bit. "And you just got a new contact on Paquin," he added with a lopsided smile.

I smiled in return, satisfied.