Dreams among Stars Read online

Page 2


  However, this safety is deceptive, as my predecessors sufficiently demonstrated.

  By now my body is as fit as it was before I was put into cryogenic sleep.

  For a technician I was in pretty good shape back then, once I even finished a marathon a bit under three hours.

  Yet I never trained knife fighting before, the improvised training program raises my doubts about this truly being a good idea.

  The training with the pistol though manages to raise my confidence again.

  My depth perception is working splendidly and my reaction time is sufficient to even hit fast moving targets.

  For now I waive trying out the sniper rifle.

  After exploring my abilities it is high time to find out about the opposition I have to face, what is it that I have to prepare for?

  Marple applauds my performance, while I seek out a comfy place to continue my investigation.

  Before watching the recordings I read the last available report.

  Maintenance report on the 23 of March in the year 4612, Bernhard Nwosu:

  The trouble with the canalization is shaping up to a dramatic scale.

  Sadly there have been some miscalculations about the abilities of the permanent active staff, expressly in regards to maintaining the systems throughout such a long-term duration. Within the enclosed attachment are contained my suggested improvements for the next generation space ship our descendants might want to construct in the future. In particular the ship systems need to become even more self-sustaining and less dependent from human maintenance.

  The societies which formed themselves aboard in the course of time are quite fascinating, but are very variously developed in regards to their ability to maintain the systems.

  Nonetheless all systems are functional and I am very confident about the ship reaching the destination.

  Additionally attached is a list of spare parts the next awakened technician should bring along.

  Neither the improvement suggestions, which sound very reasonable, nor in the spare parts list I can find any explanation about the escalated situation.

  At the time of the report everything seemed to be working well.

  The functioning water supply indicates that the problems that have been mentioned could be resolved.

  Very well, maybe the camera recordings are able to deliver the answers that keep eluding me.

  The first recording from 100 years ago proves to be quite unhelpful, a young man, which obviously had been put into cryostasis directly after finishing his degree, looks around nervously while leaving the exit.

  Nothing is happening at first and apparently he does not see anything unusual.

  Suddenly he gets startled and is looking towards a close by grove at the left.

  Someone is hailing, a very low sound of a female voice is audible.

  At least I believe its female.

  He gathers himself and keeps his pistol primed, while carefully moving towards the grove.

  Shortly before he arrives a very loud racket arises, it could very well be caterwauling from many throats.

  Something hits the young lad and he crumples to the ground, from the right side a large horde of attackers closes in, then the defensive turrets activate.

  The following bloodbath is as cruel as pointless and I wonder what lunacy has befallen the humans aboard.

  In the second recording a man in his prime is leaving the exit area with an authoritative stride.

  Sure-footed he scrutinizes his surroundings. Marple mentions that he refused to watch the recording of the previous attack. Something catches his attention and he raises a rifle and takes aim.

  After witnessing the unfolding events I am torn which recording is more gruesome.

  After only a very short pause he shoots and continues to do so, while moving away from the exit.

  The grove I saw earlier is gone by now.

  In the distance I can sometimes see persons, which fall one by one - I am unable to comprehend this man, either fright drove him crazy or he is completely without any scruples.

  Without asking any questions he just mows down every human shape which is visible.

  I almost feel relieved when finally an arrow pierces him.

  When some of the people try to get to the fallen technician the turrets prevent them from coming close to him.

  The next recording shows a young woman, probably also fresh from the academy, which is not acting as brutal. She is kneeling rifle at the ready.

  When someone hails from the distance she yells back “Do you come in peace?” the reply seems to satisfy her, as she is lowering her rifle and moves away from the exit. A group of uniformed soldiers is coming closer someone yelling “… o intent to harm.” Suddenly one of the soldiers points “Attention, there are rebels!” and while the soldiers take formation against the out of frame enemy I can hear the shrill shrieking of the woman “You mustn’t fight here!” while she is shaking the troop leaders arm.

  He shakes her off and she takes to her heels and tries putting as much distance between the soldiers and herself. I root for her and while the both troops clash and massacre each other assisted by the defensive turrets, which have sprung to life by now, she seems to have a chance.

  Suddenly the troop leader of the soldiers appears from the raging mass and my breath halts as with the drill of a veteran warrior he sends a spear towards the path of the awakened woman.

  She has no chance and this recording ends as the two before with tragic - no idiotic carnage.

  But I was able to learn something new.

  There are organized humans, a faction that sends soldiers and a faction that sends rebels to watch the exit, so at least two groups are out there.

  But how the hell could some troubles with the canalization result in such heavy social problems?

  And why all these primitive weapons?

  Before drawing premature conclusions I decide to watch the latest video.

  But first I have a small break and drink some nutritional paste, which lies heavily in my stomach, while the gruesome images float through my head.

  “You poor thing” Marple tells me “I am so sorry you have to watch all this, but we really hope you manage to survive out there.”

  The technician in the latest recording is a portly old man, which I do imagine probably even bribed someone to get a place on the ship. Nonetheless he would need to have the abilities needed to actually fulfill a maintenance technicians duties.

  His strategy seems to bear fruit, right after exiting he activates an energy shield.

  After slowly taking in the scenery he yells “I know you are out there! Show yourselves - I want to negotiate!”

  Low calls are audible and after a while an unarmed elderly soldier is nearing, wearing the familiar uniform. Now I am able to distinguish that it consists of red and blue squares and that he wears something like chain mail above it. This relapse into barbarianism stirs sadness within me.

  With a difficult to understand dialect the soldier reassures my colleague from the past that no harm to him is intended and that the threat from the rebels has been eliminated.

  To the question against what the rebels where rebelling the soldier only replies that the Benefactor could answer this and all further questions.

  This reply yields a very dissatisfied from the technician, but apparently he still decides to come along with the company.

  After the group leaves the line of sight Marple exclaims “The next 15 minutes nothing happens, but then we recorded this sequence” the empty landscape extends on the screen, then suddenly a loud bang shakes the screen and shortly after I see one, two no at least five burning people running in the distance and then thrashing themselves on the ground.

  Its becoming pretty clear that heavy arms are insufficient to overcome the dangers outside.

  Nonetheless I fetch multiple energy shields from the arsenal.

  The rest of the day I spend with endurance training, while I ponder the freshly
attained knowledge.

  In a fit of heroism I decide that my discoveries have to provide a better survival chance to my successor.

  Marple and I concur with the assumption that the witnessed conflict has taken hold of a large portion if not even the whole of the ship. Possibly even more than the two already witnessed groups are preparing for the exit of us awakened technicians, taking place every 25 years predictable as a clockwork.

  With such amassed concentration of conflicting powers all around the exit my chances are looking very grim, to say the are slim would mean playing it down.

  I figure that speed could be key to survival, considering the primitive state of technology on board the best course of action might even be to exit in the midst of the night.

  Regrettably I cannot take too much equipment with me, else I would be weighed down far too much.

  The main computer suggests an alternation of my mission parameters.

  It was not envisaged that the data connection could be cut, so to mend the situation the main computer would like me to reconnect it.

  This time though through a connection on the outer hull, as soon as the connection is established, the maintenance centers should be able to establish a wireless network and provide access throughout the whole ship.

  It might have been a morbid assumption, but it had been taken into consideration that all permanent staff could become disabled or die.

  For that reason a flotilla of maintenance drones and robots was always ready to take over the caring for the ship, but apparently the backup mechanisms had been deliberately sabotaged. This obvious recklessness drove home the fact that someone must have been outright insane 225 years back.

  The establishing of the data connection on the outer hull was a pretty easy task.

  All I needed were 100 meters of cable and a working space suit or alternatively a remote controlled maintenance drone.

  Slowly my plan is taking shape and my stamina is measurably improved.

  It might be calculated optimism, but I cling to the belief that I am able to survive the discharge and am able to fulfill my new mission.

  Not much longer and my preparation time comes to an end, sadly the outside activity is not lessening.

  The weird dreams subside, which I take as a sign that my consciousness finally is fully embedded in the present.

  Instead I dreamed of my past life on earth last night and even though it actually took place not even two full weeks ago, it seems so much more unreal than everything that is happening around me now.

  Since then far more than a thousand years have passed - everyone I ever knew is long dead by now, or still in cryostasis as I was just before now.

  The question which side I should join id driving my to and fro, if even only the two sides I know of exist. Without any question everyone out there is ready to take extreme measures. The silly thought of me being a trophy crosses my mind, but the fact is that I am the hunted in a deadly race.

  Because if one side is able to get a hold of me, the other side will find a way to destroy the prize or in other words kill me.

  By now I do wish never to have seen the recordings, although I would not stand any chance without them.

  My equipment is ready, instead of the rifle I just packed a collection of knifes and two pistols with enough ammunition for a war.

  It probably even is a war I am going to.

  Additionally I take as much maintenance equipment as I can, the most important are the nanite machines, which will allow me to repair nearly everything I might need repaired. With enough raw materials I even could create completely new constructions.

  To enhance my chances I devised a distraction plan.

  Since at the outside they are waiting for the opening of the exit I took advantage of this.

  My plan consists of sending robots outside on a walkabout twice times a day, once at daytime and once at nighttime.

  The first times the robots even had been attacked with a hail of arrows when they reentered, but after six days of this game the people became accustomed to the robots walkabout.

  My hope is that this allows for an undetected exit on my part.

  Now that everything is prepared and my physical condition is as good as it ever could be, I only have to conquer my fears. However beforehand I prepare a report for the next to be awakened and moderate the four recordings, to mitigate their cruel brutality if only by a bit.

  I don’t mean to sugarcoat the situation, but only to lessen the shock, as the situation as it is already is grim enough.

  Just two weeks ago I was shopping in Paris, now I have to save the world.

  Of course this was an overstatement, the reality was that two weeks back me and everyone else checking in for maintenance duty had been en-route for about a quarter of a year in a smaller spaceship already. To be frozen up aboard the IPS-2 later on, which was another transportation ship, which would carry us to the generation ship where we would become stored goods.

  Also I never cared much for shopping and I don’t need to save the world.

  Or… well in a way this ship is my world now.

  A world I do not know yet and which does not know me.

  Its about time to change that!

  I wake with a racing heart.

  On this day I went to sleep already early at the afternoon, to be ready for the night.

  I have one hour of time for a last meal and a warm shower.

  Right now I desperately miss a prolonged bath in a hot tub with a good book, my choice usually would be some construction manual. Sometimes I allowed myself to read an exciting distraction, like the blueprints of the interplanetary space station, usually though I would keep to more practical projects I could try out in my workshop.

  Once I nearly blew up my gas driven motorcycle, by now every vehicle ran purely on electricity and this past technology provoked my curiosity.

  The engineers were not making any jokes when they called these engines combustion engines.

  I realize that my thoughts are caught in the past, because I am avoiding to face my situation.

  For a moment I am tempted to haggle with the main computer and find a reason to delay my discharge.

  But to prepare any better than I am is not possible, should I stay I would lose all courage and completely refuse leaving the waking area, but that is not who I am.

  Freshly showered and well fed every step towards the exit seems like complete mountain on its own.

  Many more times I have to tell myself not to duck out and when I finally face the door I feel like turning around and running.

  Out there only death awaits, better to be put back to cryogenic sleep again.

  And if the ships systems completely fail? If all sensors malfunction and we just fly into a sun?

  Its practically irrelevant what I decide to do, but should I decide to leave through the exit I just might have a tiny chance and even might be able to put some things back in order.

  I cling to that thought while the door slowly opens up. Conspiratorially Marple whispers “Helen darling you can do that. Any moment the robot is on its way and no one will notice that you are right behind it.”

  I will set everything right.

  Then I step through the door.

  After my foot touches soft ground I pause for a short moment, to get an impression of my surroundings.

  Only now I truly arrived aboard the Starfarer-1, before now I only had been unconscious cargo when I was moved to the sleeping area, now I would have more than enough time to explore, provided I could manage to survive.

  The robot started on its way towards the ships middle and I silently sneak towards the opposite direction, I had memorized the way to the closest airlock, in case Marple should fail. Unfortunately I have to overcome a distance of well above two and a half kilometers and I have to do so undetected.

  Not even a hundred meters away I spot the tents of a camp, obviously the soldiers made themselves at home because they had to wait that long
for me to leave the exit. Very well its fine by me if they have to wait a good while longer. The robots will keep doing their rounds for some days to come.

  Besides the camp there is a small grove. I have to move along the side of the massive building the sleeping area is located in, to find out what lies behind the grove. As I spot another camp I silently curse.

  “Marple, my only option appears to be going through that grove. Please do an extensive scan of the area and we’ll confer as soon as I find a good hiding spot.”

  Right now I am thankful about the regression of technology, with active searching lights I would not have stood any chance to keep hidden. As it is I slowly tiptoe towards the grove and pray that no one notices my silhouette. Dark clothing had been a wise pick.

  Fires crackle in both camps and loud voices are to be heard, given that the exit is located at a very oversee-able area probably not even a hundred soldiers are sufficient to fully surround it.

  Only the wear of the long waiting time and the distracting tours of the robots allowed me to get that far.

  At the edge of the grove Marple explains that tripwires have been set up between the trees.

  It doesn’t matter if these traps are meant for me or not, this way seems to be blocked to me.

  A good opportunity to open up my bag of tricks. From my knapsack I take a stripe of one use nanites, which I put onto a nearby tree. “Sorry but to get ahead I need a bit of your wood.” I whisper to the tree and have Marple send a construction plan to the nanites.

  Without any noise the tiny engineers craft a model car sized all terrain vehicle, which actually is equipped with an engine that allows it to move around for half a hour. Also the vehicle is easily programmable.