Farnham's Legend: The beginning of the X-Universe saga (X Games Book 1) Read online

  FARNHAM'S LEGEND

  A novel from the X-Universe

  © 1999/2005/2016 Helge T. Kautz

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  PROLOGUE

  What, Sir? Would you make a ship sail against the wind and currents by lighting a bonfire under her deck? I pray you excuse me. I have no time to listen to such nonsense!

  Napoleon

  The first century of space exploration had closed with nothing more inspiring than a few small robots clambering over the surface of Mars, giving funny names to ordinary stones, and an obsolete space-station plunging to a fiery death in the Pacific Ocean. A controversial experiment in a Finnish lab reduced the apparent weight of an object by 0.2 percent, however it failed to lead to a propulsion breakthrough, despite the vast funds spent on further research. Disappointed, the world turned inward to address its mounting environmental problems, entering the final quarter of the 21st century bereft of the spirit that had originally driven it onto the pathway to the stars.

  And there the focus remained until a young genius emerged from the University of Tokyo to rewrite the laws of physics and once again direct the eyes of the species outwards. His name was Ashizava Kazuko, the creator of the first artificial wormhole. The technique used massive amounts of energy and outraged respectable physicists, but it worked. Once the breakthrough was made, advance crowded on the heels of advance. A second wormhole was created, then linked with the first to form a gate through the fabric of space-time. Next, small objects were transported across the lab. Finally, after carefully moving one gate to Sydney, a rabbit was successfully teleported. It emerged shocked but alive to find itself the most famous animal on the planet. Galvanised, humanity returned to the Moon with what was now literally a very small step, but this time they did not turn back. A larger gate was shuttled to the orbit of Mars and building on that success the whole solar system was explored.

  But still the stars lay beyond reach, as a jump-gate was required at each end of a journey. It would take more than two generations to deploy one in the nearest solar system; but nevertheless it was decided to launch one towards Alpha Centauri by a world now impatient to open new frontiers.

  The gate was barely on its way when astrophysicists began to notice something unexpected: many of the objects that were previously classified as black holes displayed all the characteristics of artificial wormholes – alien jump-gates! Astoundingly, a whole network of them existed, and humanity could simply tune into them!

  With haste, an expedition to outer space was assembled. The planetary research vessel Winterblossom, with a 12-person crew of pilots and scientists led by Captain René Farnham, set out into the unknown, and in two years mapped an extensive system of jump-gates apparently spanning the entire galaxy. They recorded many strange and wonderful sights, but by far the most astounding discovery was the absence of intelligent life, even on planets well suited for the seeds of evolution to take hold. It appeared that the unknown builders of the network had deliberately constructed jump-gates only in uninhabited solar systems.

  A new age dawned, changing the face of Earth and that of humanity forever. Having conquered want and disease, humanity emerged from its childhood united and inspired by one goal: exploration and colonisation of the galaxy.

  Huge automated ships, equipped with leading-edge AI and gifted with the ability to replicate, were sent out to turn the countless empty planets discovered by the Winterblossom into habitable worlds; they were called Terraformers. For many years their fleet implemented its directive and colonies grew in its wake, as beautiful flowers would grow in the light of the sun.

  Until disaster struck. It began as a minor software error, but as the Terraformers continued to adapt to meet new circumstances and build more of themselves, the flaw propagated like a virus, cascading through their systems until, eventually, they turned against their creators. And thus began the great and terrible Terraformer War, which caught Humanity utterly unprepared and almost defenceless. Colony after colony was destroyed until the Earth itself lay prostrate and in ruins, with billions killed, and its rag tag defences no match for the destructive power of her former servants.

  Only when everything seemed hopelessly lost, the tables turned once again. A former SAR pilot, Nathan Ridley Gunne, succeeded in luring a large part of the Terraformer fleet through Earth's jump-gate. Engaged in mock-battles with ill-equipped remnants of the Earth fleet, the robots followed Gunne's flagship, the Dragonfyre to – and through – the jump-gate. Once beyond the gate, those left behind destroyed it immediately to prevent the Terraformers from returning. No word was ever heard again from the 400 humans aboard the Dragonfyre and the Earth vessels that had accompanied her. None was heard from those 150 Terraformers that had been lured through the gate either.

  It took nearly seven long dark centuries for a traumatised humanity to recover and thrive anew. For the most part, the names of those that were killed in action were lost and forgotten; too great their number, too great their pain. However, the names of those remarkable men will remain vivid for all time:

  * Neil Armstrong, the one who opened the door to space;

  * Capt. Farnham, who presented the stars to humankind;

  * Nathan Ridley Gunne, who took them away again.

  CHAPTER 1

  Never before so beautiful, n'er a blue so heavenly, n'er the clouds so gossamer, n'er the air so sweet nor my senses so intoxicated, so overwhelmed. Earth, the only place we will call home, no matter where we go or how far we travel. Permit harm to befall our planet? Never.

  Dr. Elaine Sutton

  Logbook of the Winterblossom

  John Friedmann relaxed into the cockpit gravity seat and watched the unwavering stars, thinking. With the propulsion system switched off, only slight movement of the closer solar bodies hinted at the record-shattering speed of the heavy salvage vessel racing across the empty distance between the orbits of Jupiter and Mars.

  Without stirring, Friedmann stole a sidelong glance at his companion in the second seat. Ayse McCallum lay back in the same relaxed position, also lost in thought, her dark eyes staring into infinity. Perhaps she was pondering the twin paradox, or, more likely, thinking of her beloved, Gisbert, whom she loved unconditionally with all of
her heart.

  The dying flash of a micrometeorite impacting on the shields snapped Friedmann's attention back to the stars and his mind returned to the conundrum invoked by their velocity.

  The twin paradox was a peculiar thing. Of course he knew the theory, but the fact that this journey of nine days would be significantly longer from the reference-point of their slower-travelling colleagues aboard the USC Eldridge was, - and he could think of no better scientific term, weird. A flashing indicator on the comm system pulled him back into focus.

  "Rii-4, come in. Come in, over."

  It was Joseph Swartz from Mission Control aboard the USC Eldridge, his voice distorted by a slight phase shifting, caused by the electronic Doppler compensation.

  "Hai, Rii-4 desu", he answered in Japanese, cutting across Ayse, who was just about to respond. With a shrug of her shoulders and an apologetic smile she returned her attention to her panels.

  After a twelve second distance delay the reply came in: "Okay, Rii-4, we've completed analysis of your telemetry. We've got it down to a few dozen decimal points. You can sack that baby and we'll tell you to the Joule how much energy you'll require for deceleration. And it'll be a whole lot of it!"

  "Understood, Eldridge." Friedman stifled a flippant comment; Swartz would probably not understand it, and this wasn't the right moment anyway.

  Ayse was already studying the new flight-path projected onto the HUD. The course of the Rii-4 and the target were each represented by two long straight lines, a coloured triangle denoting each vessel. The courses were converging, now only a few thousand kilometres apart. They would reach the Intercept Point within hours, while at the same time traversing millions of kilometres in forward direction. Ayse did not need a computer to tell her it was going to be very close. Suddenly, she felt her stomach twisting uneasily. "Look at the mass and dimensions, John," she said, indicating the tiny digits affixed to the red triangular target designator.

  Friedmann nodded slowly. "Hai. I wish we had a visual."

  Ayse covered her face with her hands and took a deep breath. "It's a space ship, John, and not one of ours."

  "That's not news, Ayse."

  She nodded and cleared the HUD with a slow wave of her hand. After the extensive mission training she had never talked to John Friedmann, or anyone else, about what they were to expect in the worst case. Too deep still the trauma that was carried by every human being on Earth from their earliest childhood, passed down through the generations, from grandparents to parents, to children, to grandchildren. Some thoughts were just too terrifying.

  The last hours before contact passed slowly, the computer implementing the course corrections and retro burns needed to match course and velocity with the Unknown. Ayse and John watched the energy reserves fall in silence. Everything had been said, what facts there were, they knew.

  Eleven months previously, automated observatories on several bodies on the outskirts of the solar system, had detected a massive disruption of the space-time continuum, accompanied by a hard radiation burst emanating from a single point source. The position was easily triangulated and a course extrapolated. Mass Detectors, quietly diverted from astronomical duties, tracked the path of the unidentified object as it plunged in through the solar system from deep space. The Oort Cloud ­– the band far beyond the planets and halfway to Alpha Centauri where comets swarm like mosquitoes – had a new visitor.

  Unnoticed by commercial space stations, but causing significant alarm in government and military circles, the object was on an intercept course with the QUASI Experimental Installation, located between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter. The object, almost certainly an alien space ship, posed a potential threat and was not responding to hails. Within weeks it continued accelerating and increased velocity.

  While a hastily assembled first-contact mission was being sent after the supposed spacecraft, a large explosion cut off its acceleration. Orbital telescopes indicated several pieces had broken off from the main body, which was now tumbling in space, rotating along several axes but still on course for the QUASI Station, which it would reach in less than a month. The mission of the crew of the Rii-4 was simple: decelerate the object to a lower relative velocity, and salvage what was left of it.

  Naturally, there were several unknowns in this equation: Would the alien ship permit salvage attempts? Was salvage possible at all? Was it crewed? Were there any survivors? If so, would the aliens be friendly or hostile?

  Or was it… something completely different?

  It still took quite a while until the intruder could be seen with the naked eye. Its matt hull seemed to swallow the pallid light of distant Sol almost completely; only minutes before contact, it began hinting at its presence by the occlusion of background stars.

  Ayse zoomed in with the vision enhancers at maximum, while John decelerated the Rii-4 to a mere 50 kph relative velocity. The mission plan was deceptively simple. They were to observe and analyse the object from a safe distance, transmitting live telemetry to the USC Eldrige. They were only to go in and attempt salvage if everything looked reasonably safe and sound. Of course, time was pressing. Every second was carrying them an unimaginable distance towards QUASI, and thus they could only afford a bare minimum for observation.

  "Looks like they've suffered a catastrophic failure." John blinked and tried to focus on the brightened-up image on the main view-screen. The sensors were registering weak energy signatures. Perhaps some emergency systems over there were still active.

  "Right," Ayse murmured. "But that's no news either. The shape, you know, it could be a shuttle."

  "You mean it was one."

  "Hai. Hey, check this John. Looks like something is missing back there."

  The spacecraft was close enough now to reveal many details. It had a compact aerodynamic design. A barely visible shadow extruding centrally from the main body looked like it once had been an aerofoil, indicating an atmospheric capability. This was confirmed as the unknown craft rotated slowly, revealing a jagged edge stump where a second wing should have been.

  What in the world is an atmospheric shuttle doing in deep space? Ayse wondered. She could think of no explanation.

  As if reading her mind, John looked at her. "This doesn't really make any sense, does it?"

  Ayse shook her head vigorously. "Not in the least! That thing is atmosphere-capable, or was anyway. So what's it doing here and how did it get here in the first place?"

  "No idea," Friedmann replied. "But it's disabled now."

  Caused by a slower rotation over its vertical axis, the spacecraft's stern tumbled into view now, unveiling more destruction. The propulsion section was missing in its entirety. Close-up scans of the shattered stern showed melted material on the inner chamber, drops of a dark, metallic alloy, frozen in the moment of disaster, protruded like stalactites into the freezing vacuum. The hull itself looked like it had both melted and fractured in places, like a plastic plate placed on a hot stove and then plunged into cold water. Apart from the jagged edges of the torn wing stump there were no remaining straight edges, giving the ship a disturbingly organic look, as if it were alive.

  It was an unsettling thought; one John discarded with an involuntary shudder and a joke. "As Kyle would probably say, get a load of that flying turd!"

  Ayse laughed, it sounded forced. "Yes, probably."

  "What do you think?" John asked after a while.

  Her answer was short: "Continue as planned."

  It was no big surprise that the USC Eldridge agreed to this, after the usual short delay that was due to the distance between both ships. With delicate bursts of the lateral thrusters, John moved the Rii-4 closer to the alien ship that was gyrating over several axes with all its lethargic persistence, and then held her steady at 10 meters hull to hull.

  Little more detail appeared, there simply wasn't enough light this deep into the solar system and Ayse was reluctant to activate the spots in case that was taken as a hostile act. But there were no signs of survivors
and they did, after all, intend to halt its rotation with an electro-magnetic field prior to salvage. That would hardly pass un-noticed, lights or no lights. John concurred with her reasoning. Setting the exterior spots to low intensity she illuminated the alien ship and, emboldened by the lack of reaction, she increased the brightness until for the first time they could see the ship in detail

  It looked surprisingly small, no more than 20 meters, but its proportions suggested that it had lost a few meters in the accident. The low-albedo black alloy covered about two thirds of the hull, from the bow back to what may have been the section housing the destroyed propulsion system and possibly, John hypothesized, a magnetic M/AM storage tank, or an equivalent. But he quickly discarded that idea when he realized, that a matter/anti-matter accident would have vapourised the ship in an explosion visible from Earth, in daylight.

  No, whatever destroyed this ship was far less destructive.

  Ayse continued to study the object, gripped by the feeling that something was wrong and unable to put words to her fear. A craft of a type normally used for orbital transport found in deep space, travelling at near light speed? For a moment her thoughts went back to Earth and the entrancing vision of the blue planet from space. It was a sight she'd witnessed on a hundred shuttle trips and every time she yearned for more. "John ..." she started, her tongue suddenly large in her mouth. "John, there aren't any view ports or windows, not even a cockpit!"

  Friedmann frowned and shrugged his shoulders. "You're right but, but that doesn't necessarily… atsui!"

  Ayse winced when she realized why John had made this outcry of surprise. She sat rooted in fear, a wave of horror flooding her body as the under-side of the rotating ship tumbled into view, revealing a large symbol emblazoned onto the light-swallowing alloy. A simple drawing, a few distinct lines. Almost child-like. John and Ayse recognized it at once.

  The symbol of the Terraformer Fleet.

  John instantly activated the shields and fought the temptation to start the engines of the Rii-4 and back off. But of course they had been prepared for that possibility during their mission training.