Chapter Nineteen

 

“Joe?”

“Dad?”

Cramer opened his eyes, looking into Lila and Cindy’s faces, seeing concern on Cindy’s and even a hint of emotion on Lila’s. With blankets piled on him, warmth seeped into every fiber of his body.

“You saved us, Dad.” Cindy hugged him.

“The field’s power source. How far gone is it?” he asked.

“We have enough power to finish our trip through the Oort Cloud, decelerate to find the alien ship, and accelerate toward home again. After that we won’t be able to maintain the Ganzer Field,” Lila said.

“Right now, we have to get you warmed up,” Cindy said.

After a few days of rest his body responded, continuing to amaze him at how much cold he could take. At any rate, he longed for Arizona in August. Phoenix would be a good place to be that time of year. As soon as he could function again, his daughter went into cryo sleep. He kept an eye on things with Lila.

“I’m beginning to see your character through my association with you, Joe. Losing my memory of past events has been a great loss to me.”

“You cared for me and saw to my emotional needs. I had been separated from my daughter, and you went out of your way to help me deal with it. The strong character here was you, not me.”

“Again, I regret not remembering any of that. I thank you for your kind words.” Lila tilted her head, shutting her eyes in a respectful gesture.

“We should be a little over half way to the alien ship by now,” he said.

“It figures Floyd will be awake during the last three months of the journey, then all of you will be awakened for retrofitting the alien ship,” she said.

After three months of being awake, Cramer brought Floyd out of his chamber for the final three months of the journey. Cramer then went back into cryo sleep. The total time for all the human crew amounted to nine months in the sleep chambers and three months awake. At the end of one-year ship’s time they all awakened in anticipation of finding and working on the alien ship.

Activation of the Ganzer Field protected them for their deceleration from maximum speed to the expected slow speed of the alien ship. Long-range sensors pointed in all directions. Each of the crew manually monitored the sensors, but they registered nothing. Gravity effects, hazards in the Oort Cloud, variation in the alien’s ship’s speed, and other factors remained unknown. Drawing a blank after several days, they increased their speed.

Nagging questions badgered Cramer. Suppose they had passed the alien ship? Suppose it was way off their line of travel? Mona, after discussing the problem of finding the ship, decided to slow Compassion to a crawl in hopes the alien ship might be behind them. Days went by without any signal from their sensor scans. He chastised himself for not considering one important fact earlier.

“We know the radio frequency they used on occasions when they needed to communicate with their people who might be exploring on Titan or in their home solar system. Perhaps they might be sending a beacon, calling for help. That would carry for a long way,” he said.

“We’ve been monitoring their frequency,” Lila said.

“Yes, but we need to assume their signal would be omnidirectional. A sweep with our parabolic antennas, although more sensitive, isn’t covering enough area.”

“We’ll give it a try,” she said.

“I’m going to check the circuit design on our spare receiver to see if I can figure a way to increase its sensitivity.” Cramer left the main cabin and went below to the small workshop.

He got out the spare receiver and wiring schematics, feeling confident he could improve on the circuitry. He welcomed this change from staring at the mute monitors. Prior to the voyage, he asked Ganzer to include some old style test gear in the workshop. Cramer admired the old oscilloscope, headphones, and discontinued integrated circuit chips. He felt comfortable with antique equipment. Much of the modern equipment didn’t have the distinctive traits of the old equipment.

“You like doing hands on work, don’t you?” Mona said, startling him from behind.

“Yes, I do. A lot of repair and design nowadays seems sterile and detached. I prefer the more personal touch, getting my hands dirty. Say, it occurred to me I didn’t get your approval to go off on my own.”

“I don’t object. I think you’re on to something, so don’t let me distract you.”

“You already have,” Cramer said.

“I’m sorry. I’ll…”

“In a nice sort of way,” he added.

“Joe.” Her voice took a low pitched, chastising tone as she said, “I think I had better leave.”

“It would help me if you stayed. I’ll behave. Do you see this integrated circuit?” He held up a component that looked like a hard-shelled centipede.

“What about it?”

“They’re not made anymore. Dr. Ganzer had the forethought to buy up a bunch of them, knowing they were going out of production. The new replacement ICs are inferior in quality and design. The old ones were long lasting and performed very well. Sadly, the market is driven by economics. Companies can’t make money if they sell a product that is long lasting.”

“I never speculated much about it. I know of other commodities that have been discontinued and they were superior,” Mona said.

“These ICs I believe will improve the sensitivity of our receiver. They’re stable, they have the property of giving a better signal-to-noise ratio, and that’s what we desperately need.”

“What can I do to help?”

“A woman’s delicate hands have a superior dexterity to a man’s, so you can insert these ICs where I mark on the mother board, then solder the leads on the opposite side of the board into place. I’ll work on these larger components and do the same.” He extended a mini soldering gun to her and used a slightly larger one for himself.

After an hour of carefully installing the components onto the main circuit board of the receiver, he ran a few tests to make sure they functioned. Satisfied with the results, he devised one final test before bringing the improved receiver into duty.

“Take this little transmitter I built and plug it into an external antenna that’s accessible from the pilot’s cabin. Call me when you’re finished.” Next, he gave Mona a small box with an external plug and a detent switch on the outside.

After she left, he went to work attaching the old-style oscilloscope to the receiver and to an external antenna available from the workshop. He tested the scope and observed the green background display with the white datum points that constituted a signal—in this case, background noise.

“In place, Joe,” she said over the ship’s radio.

“Okay, switch to the microwatt scale and turn the unit on.”

He tuned the scope to the transmitter’s frequency and watched the display. The scope showed a spike going off scale. The signal froze and remained for five seconds before collecting data from another signal. He told Mona to reduce the signal strength by one thousand. The nanowatt signal still went off scale as the improved receiver detected the low power broadcast. Next, he instructed her to reduce power by another thousand to one picowatt. Another strong indication showed. She reduced power by another thousand, which gave a femtowatt signal well above the noise. A final one thousand reduction gave a small spike for the attowatt signal.

“Thanks for your help, Mona. Can you help me carry the scope and receiver up to the pilot’s cabin?”

“Be right there.”

He and Mona installed the receiver and oscilloscope, then plugged the system into the ship’s best external antenna. Turning to the frequency listed in the alien literature they’d discovered on Titan, he then plugged the scope into the receiver network. He brought the headphones so he could hear the signal while viewing it on the scope. The headphones, he hoped, would pick out a weak signal when the scope might be struggling to pick it up. Then he considered the incessant ringing in his ears. He didn’t want to tune off frequency to accommodate his tinnitus, so he turned the headphones over to her.

“Mona, your hearing is better than mine. Their beacon will be a tone, not voice. Put the headphones on. I’m thinking the headphones will be able to pick up the signal before the scope does.”

She pulled her hair away from her ears and slipped the headphones over her head. He plugged the phones into the jack on the receiver, fiddled with the oscilloscope, checked the antenna connection, then observed the scope’s trace.

“Joe! A signal!” Mona pressed the headphones to her ears.

Excited, he looked at the scope trace and increased the sensitivity scale. The trace became noisy, but a distinct peak, although weak, protruded above the baseline hash.

“It’s getting weaker. Quick, stop the ship,” she said.

Lila responded as Cindy and Floyd moved to the station Cramer and Mona set up. They hovered at Cramer’s shoulder.

“We need to hook our receiver to one of the parabolic antennas on the hull of the ship,” he said, still observing the small spike dancing amidst the noisy baseline.

“We’ll lose the signal,” Mona said.

“I know, but we can’t establish a direction until we find it with the dish. We know there’s a signal, and we can always hear it again with the other antenna.”

He switched to the parabolic antenna, and the signal disappeared. He rotated the dish, seeking the signal.

“Wait.” Mona touched the headphones, narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips.

“If you hear something, take over adjusting the dish antenna.” Cramer pointed to the adjustment knob.

She adjusted the antenna’s position, listening intently. Her face lit up, and she tweaked the adjustment. Cramer saw a spike struggling on the scope face in the baseline like a drowning man trying to stay above water. Lila noted the coordinates and moved the ship in that direction. The signal grew.

“Can you connect the ship’s guidance system into that signal so we can maintain course and increase speed?” Cramer asked.

“The signal is too weak at this point,” Lila answered.

“The alien ship must be several light days away. We’ll have to go slow until the signal increases,” he said.

Several days passed, and they watched the signal get stronger. He switched scales on the scope and observed the spike, clean and strong, rise above a quiet baseline. The strength reached a level where Lila could feed the signal into the ship’s guidance system. Bit by bit at first, the ship’s speed nudged higher. Compassion turned back, to one side toward the alien ship. Their long range sensors began to spring to life with a faint dot in the center of an otherwise mute monitor. Night and day, according to ship’s time, somebody manned the monitors and receiver.

With the time of arrival at the ship now estimated at twenty-four hours, Mona called everyone together to go over their duties when they arrived. “First, we must board the ship and determine the condition of the crew. Everything we do after that hinges on what we find.”

“Right, but I think we need to be ready with the new power source, drive engines, and refurbishing gear, presuming the crew will be all right,” Cramer said.

“Joe, you and Lila can be the first to board their ship. Both of you have the linguistics skill. Depending on what they find, Cindy, you have the power source ready for installation, and Floyd—you can take over our ship and get it into a docking position to get the drive engines transferred.”

“Dad, you did it. We’re going to do these people a great service.” Cindy reached over from her position at the table and hugged him.

“Everyone had a part in this, sweetheart.”

“Can you determine the speed of the alien ship?” Floyd asked.

“It’s almost dead in space. Apparently, their fuel is exhausted, or their engines have quit,” Lila said.

~ * ~

The alien’s ship resembled their own, only a bit smaller. The silver bullet moved barely one step above drifting. Ganzer designed Compassion so a metal bellows would fit onto the alien’s ship, allowing boarding without using a space suit. There would be a pressure gauge on the alien ship’s door indicating pressure within. Floyd took over and brought Compassion alongside the alien craft. He matched her speed.

Lila and Cramer stood at the boarding hatch. The bellows extended, then pressurized. He opened their own hatch, then he and Lila flowed the thirty feet over to the other ship. The pressure gauge indicated normal conditions beyond. Cramer and Lila brought along small oxygen tanks with masks to protect them from possible stale air. Equipped with lights, they prepared to open their boarding hatch.

“Maybe we should knock in case they don’t know we’re here,” he said.

“Yes, they could be startled, assuming someone is awake,” she answered.

He tapped on the door several times, feeling silly at knocking on the door of a spaceship in the middle of deep space between stars. He paused, then tapped again. Lila reached for the external hatch mechanism and activated the opening sequence. The door showed a green light above it, then swung inward. They stepped into a dim compartment.

Cramer recognized this level contained the sleep chambers. The atmosphere tested twenty-five percent oxygen, the level required by the aliens. They found ten sleep chambers, nine being occupied. The sleeping aliens resembled Keldahl’s race and seemed to be alive in their sleep state.

“Let’s go to the pilot’s room. Perhaps the tenth person is there,” Cramer said.

“I think as we approach it, we should holler in the alien’s language alerting we’re here.”

“You know the language better than me. Besides, a woman’s voice will sound less threatening.”

She called out in their language as they approached the door. She continued to talk as Cramer eased the door open. An alien stood there waiting for them. That startled Cramer.

“Are you well? And is your crew well?” Lila spoke in their language.

“Yes, people of Earth. I had lost all hope. Our power is almost gone, our engines dead; soon our sleep chambers will fail. My name is Dordahl,” he said. He extended a boney hand, his large black eyes blinking, his expression difficult to recognize.

Cramer took his hand. “I’m Joe Cramer, and this is Lila. We’ve been on the moon in our system where you settled.”

“That explains how you found us. We can never reach our home system.”

“We’re here to help. We have new rocket engines, a power source, and electronics designed to upgrade your ship,” she said.

“Why would you do that?” Dordahl asked.

“Your people did us a great service. We journeyed to your system so one of our own could be healed,” Cramer said.

“We will indeed be grateful to you.”

“Okay, which systems in your ship need to be top priority?” she asked.

“Our sleep chambers first, then the maintaining of our atmosphere and food supplies.”

“We have studied the plans for your ship. If you’ll permit, we will get started,” Cramer said. “We have three more crew members in our ship. We all know what to do if you will allow us to upgrade your ship.”

“Please do.”

He concentrated on the sleep chambers. Dordahl brought the other nine aliens out of cryo sleep so Cramer could swap out their old electronics with new circuitry. Cindy took care of installing the Ganzer field electronics and new power source while removing the depleted power module. Floyd and Mona coordinated the movement of both ships and unloaded the new star drive engines along with the hydrogen. Everyone pitched in to revamp the electronics.

Lila provided information to Dordahl and his friends on the operation of the new star drive engines and the Ganzer Field during acceleration and deceleration. All the work took five months. Mona instructed the crew of Compassion not to say anything about their dilemma. Cramer admired her for that. They could have taken the new power source for maintaining their Ganzer Field and bailed themselves out of trouble instead.

During the final two weeks, they tested the new electronics and fired the engines.

“I am very impressed with the improvements you have made,” Dordahl said.

“Doctor Ganzer is our resident genius,” Cramer said. “It will take two or three years’ ship’s time to travel from here to your home star.”

“Amazing. I am looking forward to getting home and seeing our descendants. With the new communications breakthrough, you mentioned, we won’t be burdened with the eight-year time lag each way.”

“When you see Keldahl, I’d like you to give him this. I hope you didn’t mind my taking this from your colony on Titan.” Cramer gave the red leather-bound history book to Dordahl.

“We have all that in our computer cubes so we wouldn’t have to take the bulky books back with us. You have good taste in relics.” Dordahl took the book.

“We look forward to many exchanges between us in the years to come.”

“I would like you to have this. It’s a new volume of our history.” Dordahl passed over a dark blue leather-bound book similar to the red one.

“You’re too kind. Thank you, and may you have a safe journey.” Cramer held the book, running his hand over the front panel.

Dordahl tilted his head, his eyes closing in the respectful gesture Cramer had seen before.

The crew of Compassion each in turn gave Dordahl and the others a gentle hand shake, then exited through the connecting bellows. From Compassion, Cramer watched the alien ship take on the Ganzer Field glow then vanish in high acceleration mode.

“Everyone did a good job for them. Joe, they seemed to take to you. You’re a good diplomat,” Mona said.

“Thank you, Mona.” He still grasped the book Dordahl gave him. Cramer restrained his tears at parting with the aliens after the past five months.

“We need to discuss our power problem for the trip home. Does anyone have any ideas on how we can deal with the power shortage to maintain the Ganzer Field?” Mona asked.

After giving it thought, members of the crew offered three options. One involved spending more time in cryo sleep, thus robbing life support and other systems of power to supply the Ganzer Field. That option endangered the crew from being too long in cryo sleep. Slowing the ship to one-tenth light speed would take fifteen years to reach Earth, also unacceptable. Reconfiguring the Ganzer Field to only protect the crew while leaving the remainder of the ship unprotected involved too much risk to vital systems on the ship. They had to scrap all three options due to risks to crew and ship as well. It would be too long of a voyage.