The clattering of alien salvos against the outside of the ship gradually faded, and then ceased altogether. The engines took on a steadier tone as the ship travelled to a comfortable distance from the main conflict.
Cally watched Jenna steering them to safety, and was once again impressed with her friend’s calm, almost casual confidence. It was as though Jenna and the Liberator were connected through the flight controls. Jenna was instinctively at one with the ship. Completely at home. This was where she belonged.
Avon was busying himself with some calculations at his console. Vila tapped his fingers impatiently on his.
With a final flourish, Jenna completed their manoeuvre and released the flight controls. ‘This should be far enough.’
‘Not far enough for me,’ said Vila. ‘Are there still alien ships following us?’
Cally ran a rapid scan of the immediate area. ‘One small vessel. Vector eight six.’
‘Definitely not far enough!’ concluded Vila.
Jenna was already reviewing their options. ‘We should be able to pick it off with the neutron blasters.’
Cally continued to scan the solitary alien ship. Unlike their previous attackers, this one was making a direct approach. It accelerated on an intercept course, barrelling its way unerringly at them. Its trajectory steered it directly away from the main conflict, way over at the defence grid. The vessel had the Liberator clearly in its sights, and had the turn of speed and manoeuvrability to get in very close, very quickly.
‘Vila, are you ready? There may be just enough residual energy in the neutron blasters to pick this one off.’
At the last moment of its approach, the alien vanished abruptly from the view screen. Almost immediately, there was the pop of a small explosion outside the Liberator, and a metallic rattle as a hail of shrapnel cascaded across the hull.
That was odd, thought Cally. Had Vila managed to pick it off? Or had it just lost control and crashed into the hull?
‘Where did it go?’
‘You must have hit it, Vila.’ Cally checked the readings again. ‘The ship just… disintegrated.’
‘Did I?’ The idea clearly pleased Vila, and he sat a little straighter in his chair. ‘I mean, yes, obviously. I must be getting the hang of this now.’ He smiled at his own cleverness.
Cally smiled back at him. ‘Looks like you can relax, Vila.’
‘Adrenaline and soma?’ he asked her.
She wagged an admonishing finger. ‘Not that relaxed.’
‘I think I need a drink.’
‘I think you need to concentrate,’ said Avon. ‘Monitor auto-repair. We’ll stay here until Liberator is back to battle-readiness. Zen, is there any sign of alien hostiles?’
‘A LARGE, UNIDENTIFIED OBJECT IS APROACHING FROM VECTOR NINE-FIVE.’
Cally stared at her display, astonished that she had not spotted this while scanning for alien pursuers. ‘What does “large” mean?’ There was nothing visible to her at her station.
‘SENSOR DATA IS LIMITED. THE OBJECT HAS DIAMETER 2.397 KILOMETRES. IT HAS MASS 1.935 x TEN TO THE TWENTY-TWO KILOGRAMS.’
Vila boggled. ‘What does that even mean?’
‘It means it’s too big to be a space vessel,’ said Avon. ‘So, what is it, Zen?’
‘THAT INFORMATION IS NOT AVAILABLE.’
‘Oh great!’ grumbled Vila. ‘Zen doesn’t know.’
Jenna joined Avon at his console. ‘Are you sure it couldn’t be some kind of alien battle cruiser?’
He contemplated her question. Cally knew Avon didn’t like to admit when he was baffled, but that he liked even less to be wrong. He produced Orac’s key with a flourish. ‘Let’s find out.’
The computer flickered into renewed life, and grumbled away in anticipation of Avon’s question.
‘All right, Orac. What have you got?’
After the briefest of pauses, Orac said, ‘Would you care to be more precise?’
Cally smiled as Avon’s eyes narrowed. ‘What,’ he said in a measured tone, ‘have you been able to extrapolate from the movements of the alien fleet?’
‘I have analysed a substantial body of data from a wide variety of available trusted sources,’ boasted Orac. Nevertheless, the computer concluded: ‘I have identified no strong correlation outside the parameters of normal variance.’
‘Hah!’ snorted Vila. ‘He doesn’t know either. Computers, eh? Who needs ‘em? I suppose they’re company for Avon, though.’
‘There are too many unknown variables,’ Orac replied dismissively.
‘At least Zen was more honest about it,’ added Vila.
Avon clearly wasn’t satisfied with this. He placed his hands so that he was leaning on either side of Orac’s casing. Cally thought this made it look, improbably, as though Avon was literally pressing the computer for an answer.
‘What about this large, unidentified object that’s approaching us?’
Orac seemed more interested in this. ‘It is fascinating.’
‘So, fascinate us,’ said Avon.
‘It is a dwarf planet that circles Star One’s sun on a wildly elliptical orbit.’
Cally hadn’t heard of anything like that before. ‘A dwarf planet?’
‘Its operational signal indicates that it is called Megiddo.’
‘Sounds charming,’ said Jenna.
Vila shared her pessimism. ‘Ideal for a short break. I’ll start packing. Might be able to get a drink down there,’ he added sourly.
‘None of us,’ snapped Avon, ‘are going anywhere.’ He straightened up, and was about to give them another piece of his mind when something seemed to strike him about what he’d just heard. He turned back to Orac. ‘Wait a minute… you said operational signal?’
‘Of course,’ replied Orac, apparently exasperated that he had to repeat anything. He was sometimes like an unwilling teacher forced to remain patient with a class full of inattentive pupils. ‘I have detected an extensive technological complex buried beneath the planetoid’s surface.’
Cally decided that she, at least, was prepared to be an attentive student. ‘So what is it?’
Orac sounded almost cagey. ‘The Federation technology pre-dates the original Tarial Cell.’
‘That must make it old,’ said Cally. ‘Much older than Star One.’
‘Further information is mere extrapolation,’ Orac told her sniffily.
Avon wasn’t in the mood for niceties. ‘All right then. Extrapolate.’
Orac’s operating note quavered and steadied, as though reaching a reluctant conclusion. ‘The technology is primitive. It could be a simple storage capacity, or a weapons facility, or an abandoned earlier…’
‘Weapons facility?’ Cally was startled by Orac’s casual inclusion of this possibility, and apparent lack of curiosity about it.
‘Kindly do not interrupt while I am enumerating the possibilities,’ snapped Orac.
Cally pulled a face at the computer.
‘As I was saying,’ continued Orac, ‘Megiddo could also be an abandoned earlier iteration of the Star One complex, or even a waste disposal site.’
‘But,’ insisted Cally, ‘you say it could be a Federation weapons facility?’ That was good enough reason for her, she decided. ‘Avon, I say we should go there and recover what we can.’
‘I say none of us are going anywhere.’ Avon turned away from her, rudely underlining his dismissal of her suggestion. ‘We cannot spare someone to go down there based on mere… extrapolation.’
Cally refused to accept this, and stalked across the flight deck. She stood between Avon and the view screen to confront him. ‘Can we afford to let this thing fall into alien hands?’
‘Assuming the aliens have hands,’ observed Vila.
‘Oh Vila, you know what I mean,’ she sighed. It wasn’t so very long ago that the human crew of the Liberator had thought of her as an alien. It had taken her a while to earn their trust, to overcome the parochialism of people from Earth about the trustworthiness of off-worlders. And now here they were, faced with the truly alien. Faced with the annihilation of all humans, whether from Earth or from Auron or from anywhere in the known galaxy. And this dwarf planet might be the solution. She couldn’t allow the opportunity to pass them by.
‘I will teleport down to Megiddo,’ she said firmly. Her eyes never left Avon’s.
He blinked slowly, and turned to Orac.
‘What are the odds that it is weaponry?’
‘There are too many…’
‘… unknown variables,’ interrupted Avon. ‘Yes, I thought you’d say that, Orac. And it answers your question Cally.’ Now he was staring right back at her. Impassive. Unyielding. ‘You’re staying here.’
He snatched the activation key from Orac, and the computer powered down with an ill-tempered yelp.
Cally watched Avon walk away from her, towards the exit. ‘So, where are you going, Avon?’ she demanded.
He shouted over his shoulder as he left the flight deck. ‘Narrowing down the variables.’