To find the most recent part, use your browser's text search feature to find @***@
Links to other Parts:
Part 1: Not Alone
Part 2: A Spy Unrealized
Part 3a: The Journey Part 1
Part 3b: The Journey Part 2
And now, Part 4
***
The Not So Distant Future...
"Shuttle prepped for launch, and the buggies are loaded."
"Great, Jay. We'll be right there." Flynn turned to the rest of his team. "Our job's easy. We go in, we make sure the tach-com is working properly, change the settings to accept our transmissions, and get out. Questions?"
"What about that thing that's out there?" Ariel Johnson asked. Flynn groaned mentally. All it took was one rumor... Still, it didn't matter. He was almost certain that there wasn't anything tangible there. Dust, a sensor glitch, nothing major.
"We don't know if there is anything there. It might have been a problem with the sensors. However, we will be going in with our shield down so we can use our maximum scanning capacity. So Jay, fly carefully."
"Got it." No more questions materialized, and the group climbed aboard the shuttle.
"I wonder how Jackal and Spitfire are doing," Flynn said.
***
On the surface, Spiridon Brand was not happy. "What do they expect us to find, footprints? Tire tracks? I'm a geologist, not a tracker. Besides, this isn't Luna. Winds, dust, and lightning, not an unchanging landscape that stays the same for years!"
"You think that you're out of your depth? I'm an archaeologist! I'm better at finding entire civilizations that have been dead for millenia than at finding a nomadic, living group."
"Just venting a bit," Spiridon assured him.
"Same here," Jackal replied. "Besides, we know where they found the grass, so we've got a starting place at least."
"Pity we couldn't take a hovercraft or the jet. We could use the extra speed."
"We'll get there soon. Besides, the hover fields would have wreaked havoc with any tracks that were there."
"True." Silence held for the remainder of the brief journey to the field. The grass there was brown, seemingly dead. "Well, they wouldn't have stayed here," Spiridon sighed.
"Hold on, I'll grab a sample of it," Jackal said. He climbed out of his buggy and cut a blade off. He placed it in a sample jar, then held it up to the light. Suddenly, he saw something glint green on the horizon. "Spitfire, you see that?"
"What?"
"Horizon line, green, reflective." Spiridon squinted.
"I see it. It's out of sensor range."
"Go have a look. Shields up, though, minimum strength. I'll look around here." Spitfire's buggy took off with a cloud of dust behind it.
"I'll check back when I can get a reading."
"Good luck." Jackal looked around and sighed. "You'd think they'd have left a HELP or something."
***
"We'll enter Phobos orbit in three minutes."
"Thanks Jay." Flynn switched over to the group comm. "Alright, comm check, everyone."
"The Dude, ready."
"Supercheese, prepared."
"Tigerstorm, accounted for."
"Flyclub, all set. Jay, you hear all that?"
"This is Solar Flare, I hear you loud and clear." Flynn laughed quietly to himself. Call-signs were good reminders of how individual people were.
"What do the sensors say, Jay?"
"Just normal debris. Nothing that would explain what I saw."
"I'll check the sensors when we get back to base. Last thing we need is..." A warning buzzer cut him off.
"I've got something! Starboard side, just coming around the moon!" Everyone rushed to the nearest window. As the shield plates slid back, all gaped at the enormous shape, looming over the satellite's horizon.
***
"Mission log, day 35..."
"Pause playback." The computer obeyed a bleary-eyed Glast's command.
"What is it, Tess?"
"Tom, use your head. We've skimming through over 800 hours of footage for the past 5 hours, and have found no references to secrecy, covert operations, or even who bluffed who at the weekly poker game!" Babage ran through his best options. A: become defensive, and irritate an already annoyed coworker; B: Become silent and ponder philosophy while Glast calmed down; or C: accede to the demands of both their tired brains for sleep. C seemed the best of all.
"Alright, then. We can come back to this later. You go get some sleep, I'll just watch this last log entry and turn in for the night." The prospect of sleep visibly calmed Glast.
"Okay. See you in the morning." As Glast stood and stretched, Babage resumed the playback.
"Orders came through today. We're to build a bunker, a safe-room beneath the base. Why this is being insisted upon seems evident, but the reactors have been stable since we brought them online. However, the orders were signed by Aubrey. We're also to keep this off the records, and not mention it in our logs, communications, or supply sheets. I'm not sure why so much secrecy is required, but I'm starting to think that something's happened with one of the test reactors on Earth. If these things are oversized bombs, I see the need for a bunker. But why the covert nature?" Tom turned. Glast had stopped with her hand on the door pad.
"There's something fishy about this. If they weren't supposed to mention these orders, why is this here?" An information request showed why. LOG, DAY 35, ERASED FROM PRIMARY MEMORY. TRANSFERED TO MISSION RECORDING DEVICE/BLACK BOX PRIOR TO ERASURE. "But Aubrey didn't know about the bunker! How could he have given the orders?" Glast's frustration was obvious, but Babage's thoughts turned to the less so.
"Perhaps he did know. Glast, we need to talk to Aubrey. Privately."
"You can't be thinking that..."
"'The simplest explanation is most likely the correct one.'"
"Tom, Occam's Razor does not mean that Aubrey is lying to everyone!"
"Even so, we have to make sure. And, on that thought, we should bring our CMO with us." Babage locked the files, then headed for sickbay, Glast following worriedly.
***
"What is it?" Johnson gasped. The station was at least 1,000 times the size of their shuttle. Kestrel tapped a few controls, and a partial tri-d of the station appeared.
"There's no registry beacon, so it's not one of ours. Anyone recognize it?"
"I think so," Flynn said. "Run a comparison between this and any large spacecraft lost in the last 20 years." Images scrolled over the screen. Finally, one matched. "Voyager 3!" Flynn was astounded. "I worked on that station as an intern! The first exploratory space station...and so far, the last."
"Wait, so that thing is from Earth?" Dustin Brown was skeptical. "Then why isn't it common knowledge? Something that size could not have been built in orbit without someone noticing."
"Geostationary orbit over Antarctica," Flynn explained. "NASA was skeptical about it. It was revolutionary, and as such, prototypical. Automated robotic maintenance systems, full size flight section, high speed shuttles that could break the sound barrier without a sound..."
"So it was expensive. Why is it here though?" Dustin demanded.
"The automatic maintenance system malfunctioned, and began damaging parts of the ship. It was equipped with heat shields, and if it had made it to Earth, it could have done some real damage there."
"Why'd they send it to Mars?"
"They didn't. It was launched towards the sun, to go into orbit as a solar research station. Plans were made for staffing the station, but contact was lost shortly after it passed Mercury."
"Well, guess we know where it wound up now," Brown said drily. "Should we ignore it?"
Flynn turned to Kestrel.
"Jay, are you reading an atmosphere?" The scans came back quickly.
"Oxy-nitro, well within Earth normal. 1G as well."
Flynn nodded in thought.
"What are you reading on the relay station?"
"Intact, operational. We don't even have to go down there, I can reset the permissions remotely."
"Alright then. Jay, you take care of the relay. Everyone else, suit up. We're going over there." As the rest of the group headed for the launch bay, Flynn opened a channel back to base. "Aubrey, you're not going to believe what we found."
***
As Flynn outlined what they had discovered, Falconer's expression grew more and more incredulous. "You're right, I don't believe it. Or at least, I wouldn't without those scans. Apart from you and me, only 30 people know about the loss of Voyager 3. Find out what brought it here, and then relay those findings back to me."
"No problem. Clubbaire out." As soon as the channel closed, Aubrey checked the status of the relay. The link was set. He typed in his password, and prepared to make a call to Mission Control. He was about to press the Connect button when his door chimed.
"Come in." Glast, Babage, and Futureboy walked in. "Did you find something?" Falconer asked.
"We did," Babage said. "Before we tell you what we found, we have to make sure of something."
"Alright, what?" Futureboy stepped forward.
"If you would place your hand on this pad?" Falconer did so. "What is your name," Futureboy asked.
"Aubrey Falconer."
"What is 6 times 7?"
"42." Falconer was perplexed now. "Is there a reason for this?"
"Please," Babage insisted. "This will only take a minute."
"Now," Futureboy continued, "were you aware of the existence of the bunker before we arrived on Mars?"
"No." Glast cleared her throat, then spoke.
"Did you sign orders requiring the construction of the bunker, and all secrecy associated with it?"
"No! Now what is going on?" Futureboy took back the pad.
"He's not lying," he confirmed.
"Thanks Doc," Babage said. "Now, Aubrey, what we found was that Thompson recorded a log entry in which he stated that the orders to build the bunker were signed by you. He erased it from main memory, but the recorder kept it."
"I never signed anything of the sort!" Anger was clearly present on Falconer's face. "Bring up the entry here. I want the Director to see this, and I expect an explanation."
***
As Spiridon approached the green glint, he noticed something about it. "Rob, that green thing's airborne."
"Any reading yet?"
"No." He closed to within 100 meters. "Metallic, but I'm getting life-signs as well! And there's another one on the ground!"
"What are they?"
"The one on the ground's human! I don't recognize the other one, but something is very strange about this! I'll try a call." The external speaker's focused towards the life-signs. "Hello!" The effect was almost immediate. The green thing dove to the ground, leveled out, and started running. The human broke into a run as well. "Rob, they're running!"
"Call them again!"
"No use, they're too far away already!" Suddenly, the life-signs disappeared. "They're gone!"
"What? No, that's impossible!"
"Nevertheless, they were there one second and gone the next!" Andrews sighed.
"That was probably our best lead. Let's head back to base, theirs nothing else here. I just hope we can figure out what that was from the recordings."
***
"The secondary airlock's located next to the bridge. We'll go in through there, set up a relay link to the computers, and then head for the flight recorders here, here, and here." The areas Flynn indicated flashed on everyone's screens. "One here, on the bridge. One here, in the hangar bay. And one here, on the lower level." Everyone picked up on the ominous tone in his voice on the last location.
"What's in the lower level?" Johnson asked. Flynn sighed.
"We managed to confine the Autonomous Maintenance System to the lower levels. No access to the power core, the airlocks, or the propulsions systems. However, it's power source was radioactive. If it failed to shut down with the rest of the station, it's still active."
"How bad can an automated cleaning service be?" Dustin's skepticism irritated Flynn.
"Trust me, you don't want to know. But if you hear or see something unusual, head the other way, fast."
"Sorry to interrupt, but we're here," Kestrel said from the bridge.
"Great. Wait here. If we go silent for more than ten minutes, broadcast this code to this area."
"What's it do?"
"Overloads the core." Surprised noises issued from everyone. "If anyone wants to stay here, that's fine." No one opted out. "Alright then, here we go." The shuttle's ramp came down, and 4 buggies drove onto the ledge of Voyager 3's airlock.
***
Kestrel watched as the small group maneuvered through the lock. Apart from the expected energy readings of the lock's motors, nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary. That is, if a rogue space station could be called ordinary. He blinked. The next time he glanced at the monitors, something had appeared. "Flynn, I'm picking up a metal object and life signs in the hangar bay! It just appeared!"
"What do you mean just appeared?"
"Just that! It wasn't there one second, and was there the next!"
"We'll check it out. Thanks Jay." Kestrel copied the sensor records from the past minute and sent them to the base. Maybe someone there could figure out what had happened.
***
"What is going on here?" The Director of NASA was visibly taken aback by Falconer's anger.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Daniel, I have just learned that a secret bunker was built without my knowledge under Planitia Base, and apparently authorized by me. Since I know I didn't sign anything similar, I'm rather curious as to why the heck my signature is on a document that I've never seen!"
"I've never heard of anything like this either! Plans, records, nothing says anything about that! So you can stop pointing fingers, because we're both in the dark!" Falconer was still fuming, but his rage was dissapating.
"Fine. Sorry. So, where do we go from here?" The Director pondered for a moment.
"Your tach-com's working at full capacity, right?"
"Yes..."
"And you have Zach aboard, right?"
"Yes...why?"
"Talk to him about remote access. Bring him onboard. If there are any files about this, on Earth or Mars, he'll find them." The director tapped a few keys. "Tell him to use the Ares Beta code on what I just sent him. He'll know what to do."
"Thanks." A window flashed at the side of the screen. "Something new here. Thanks for the help."
"No problem. I owe you for handling the Planitia Disaster."
"My department, my responsibility. And keep this quiet, but from what we're finding here, it's looking more and more as if the Disaster wasn't that disastrous."
"Please, no cryptic statements. That's the last thing that John left us with: just another mystery. Tell me when you know more. NASA out." The link shrank and died. Falconer paused for a moment to think. No one knew anything about this, an impossibility in this day and age. Something was very strange. He glanced at the link. Communique from Brand and Andrews. Tagline: Analysis. With two taps, he forwarded it to Glast's department. More pressing matter were at hand.
"Computer, locate Zachary Zam."
***
"I don't understand it," Spiridon said. "The one was human! Why'd they run away? The only humans on Mars were in the first mission, right?"
"Maybe it was a Martian," Jackal said.
"Martians aren't real!"
"But according to the theory of exogenesis..."
"Which remains unproven..."
"Life could have arrived on Earth from another source."
"And you're suggesting that the life on Mars would look exactly like a human to the scanners?"
"Well, you did say that one was green..."
"That doesn't prove anything!"
"Well, we do know that life off of Earth exists!"
"How?"
Jackal waved the vial of grass at Spiridon. The geologist was quite peeved. "Grass does not a human being make."
"Just saying..."
"I heard. We'll know more once Analysis gets through with the tapes."
"And this. Race you to the cloud?"
"Alright!"
The two buggies tore away across the Martian plane. There sensors were cycled down as power was shunted to the motors. An unfortunate design flaw. On a ridge to the South, two sets of eyes watched them.
***
"Their buggies look different than the old ones," the human commented. His shorter companion nodded. "Wonder who they are." Shrug. "Sorry about your mike again. Maybe you shouldn't have landed so hard." Shrug. "Well, we should head back and tell everyone. Though I don't think he'll want us to go out on hikes anymore." Nod. The pair started climbing down. "Did you really have to send us up here?" Nod. "Guess I'll have to wait until we get back to find out why." Nod. "Oh well. Wonder what's for dinner."
***
Flynn groaned quietly to himself. This mission had turned into anything but simple, and they'd already done what they'd come here to do. Part of him wanted to just get everyone back onboard the transport shuttle, lift off, and blow this entire thing to smithereens behind them. But the new life-sign had changed that. They had to check that out at least. "Supercheese, get the recorder from the bridge and head back to the ship. Dude, you, Tigerstorm, and I will head to the hangar bay and investigate." Acknowledgements were made, and the four buggies split into two groups. "Jay, once Ariel gets back, I want you two to start prepping a quarantine bay. We'll need it if we're bringing whoever's over here back."
"Got it Flynn."
The distance to the bay from the airlock was shorter than Flynn remembered. There, amidst the rows of experimental saucer-craft and prototype transports, was a silver capsule. "The life signs are definitely coming from here," Dustin reported.
"Any sign of a comm system?"
"None."
"Orion, take care of the recorder here. Once you have it, get back to the ship."
"Sure you won't need help?"
"I'm sure." As the Dude headed into the recorder alcove, Flynn popped the canopy of his buggy. He walked over to the capsule.
"Life-signs are stable, right?"
"Yes. They indicate a sleep state."
"Okay, here goes nothing." Flynn tapped on the side of the capsule.
"They're awake!" Dustin shouted. Flynn jumped back as a hatch slid open on the capsule. A rush of air blew out into the bay, as the pressure equalized. Then, a suited figure stepped out. It started talking. Flynn could hear a voice in his suit's speakers.
"Flynn, glad to see that someone was on the receiving end. Odd, that seemed to take a bit longer than expected." The figure looked around. "Funny...why'd you drag these old things out of storage to meet me?"
The familiar way in which this person greeted him was a surprise to the engineer. "Who are you, exactly?"
"Don't joke, Flynn. It's me, Seb..." The voice trailed off. "My name...what's my name? Why can't I remember the rest of my name?" Puzzled, the figure seemed to peer at them more closely. "You look younger than I remember... you too Dustin. Who else is here?"
"Just Jay, Orion, and Ariel." Flynn carefully only gave first names. Whoever this was, something was very strange.
"Ariel? But he's... back on Earth... oh my..." The figure collapsed. Flynn rushed forward in alarm.
"Dustin, life signs!"
"Heart rate's up, but slowing. He's unconscious."
"This is just getting stranger and stranger...Dustin, take him back to the ship. Once Orion's done, I'll head for the last recorder."
"No way. If what's down there is as bad as you say it is, you'll need two people at least!"
"This isn't up for debate. We don't know what's wrong with him, and we need to keep casualties at a minimum, if there are to be any."
"At least have Orion stand guard in the elevator! If you need help, everyone else will be too far away."
Flynn sighed. "Fine. But only if he agrees."
Wilson agreed readily, to Flynn's dismay. Still, some back up would be nice. Dustin placed the prone Seb into the rear seat of his vehicle, and then started to head out. "Wait," Flynn said. Dustin paused. "If you can, push this pod back to the ship too. It might be important." Dustin complied. As the silver device was rolled off, Flynn climbed back into his buggy. He sealed the canopy, and, with Wilson tailing him, headed for the access elevator to the lowest level. He was not looking forward to this.
***
"Early lunch, eh, Zach, Chris?" Spiffy reached under the counter and pulled two plates of food out for the lounge's latest visitors. "Anything new with the security level onboard?"
"Nothing to report," Christian Krieger said. "I just got done with a check of the lower levels. Someone said they saw someone. Guess who I found?"
"I was checking the fiber optics to the mission recorder," Zam explained. "Forgot to check in. Sorry about that, Chris."
"No problem. Still, we probably should have a few drills to improve readiness. Too much more of this complete calm, and we'll be next to useless if there is an emergency."
Zam's glasses flashed. "One second..." He skimmed the text scrolling across the lenses. "Got to go, see you. Falconer." He got up to leave.
"Now wait just a minute," Spiffy said. "You're not going to leave all this food here, are you Zach?"
Zam shook his head. "Sorry, can't. Urgent message." He hurried out the door.
With a sigh, Spiffy tossed Zam's plate into the recycler. "Now what could that have been about?" he wondered. Krieger shrugged.
"I don't know, Spiff, but I'm putting the security staff on alert until further notice. Something's off, and I want us to be ready for anything."
***
The elevator's seals hissed open. Flynn's buggy rolled out into the corridor. The lights in this section were completely dark. He looked hallway. It was completely empty. He cautiously started the buggy forward. The silence was eerie. He gulped. "The recorder should be just down the hall," he told Orion. "I'll be back out in five minutes."
"Got it. Just remember, if we lose contact, I'm coming in after you."
"Got it." Flynn drove further into the darkened hall. His headlights only lit a small path in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could almost swear that something was on the floor. He turned suddenly, but the beams only fell on empty, perfectly clean flooring. Perfectly clean... "Stay alert, Orion. The AMS is still active." He could see the alcove where the recorder should be. Just a few more feet...
"How can you tell?"
"What Orion?" He was at the alcove now. He popped the canopy, alert for danger. His personal light illuminated the alcove.
"How can you tell the AMS is still working?"
"The floor here is perfectly clean. When we left, there were piles of dust everywhere."
The light shone on the recorder's cover. It was open.
"Guess it must have not gotten out, then. The elevator's full of dust! Heck, I think we must have stirred it up, because it's swirling around like crazy!"
Flynn frowned as he reached into the recorder's housing. A part of his mind noticed that the recorder didn't quite feel intact, but he was puzzling over the dust. He didn't remember seeing any dust in the elevator. The only place it could have come from was in the corridor, but there wasn't any... "What color is that dust, Orion?"
"Silvery-grey, like metal shavings. It's strange, but it's almost like it's moving by itself. Kind of neat to watch, actually."
The engineer froze with the recorder half out of it's container. "What was that last?"
"Neat to watch..."
"No, before that."
"It's almost moving by itself..."
"Oh no... Shields up, Orion, shields up!" Flynn was already back in his buggy, strapping in. He raced back up the hall, towards the elevator. Behind him, lying where it had been abandoned in haste, the recorder crumbled into a fine, silvery-grey powder. Slowly, it began drifting down the hall, following Flynn's buggy.
***
The doors to Falconer's office slid open. "You wanted to see me, Aubrey?" Falconer keyed the door shut behind Zam. The lock clicked into place. The computer expert raised an eyebrow at the added security. "Maybe you should have called Krieger instead."
"No, I need your help." Falconer quickly explained the mystery at hand.
"So someone faked your authorization, eh? That's not too hard."
"It's more than that. All transmissions made using the tach-coms are recorded. There's no record besides this mission log."
"So, what do you want me to do?"
"I need you to go through the NASA computers remotely. Try and find any deleted transmissions."
"You know I don't have authorization to access that."
"The director says to use this code." Zam's glasses flashed with the new information.
"Ares Beta, huh. Already planning ahead. I looked through those files a month ago. Some nice ideas."
"Is anything secret to you?"
"Not that I know of." Zam's glasses flashed, and the doors opened. "I'll let you know the minute I find something." As the doors slid shut behind him, information was already flying before his eyes.
***
Dust swirled around the two buggies. The iron rich Martian soil slowly settled to the ground of the receiving bay. Jackal popped his canopy first. "Look's like you could spit fire," he laughed, leaping out of his vehicle.
Spiridon sullenly climbed out of his own buggy. "I still say you cheated using wings," he grumbled.
"What are you talking about? I never left the ground."
"Yeah, but you kept them deployed, so when I hit that ridge, I went rolling, while you just plowed right over it." Spiridon groused. "Wings are for flying!"
"Not if you're a penguin."
"I don't see you wearing a tux."
"Fine," Jackal sighed, "we can have a rematch next time we're planet-side. Now that you know the trick, nothing's stopping you."
"You're on!"
The wait for the airlock to equalize was annoying, as usual. Spiridon let out a groan."Why doesn't Flynn use those fancy fields Maize conjured up to replace these?"
"Simple," Jackal said. "A sudden pressure change like that would either give you the Bends or collapse your lungs. Not exactly fun, either of those."
"Jackal, you do realize that we're wearing pressure suits, right?"
"Oh, right. Still, if the power failed, the fields wouldn't work. These, on the other hand, would."
"True." The lock cycled through, finally. On the other side, Glast was waiting.
"Alright, which of you two edited this?" She waved a vid clip in their faces.
"We just filmed that on the surface. We haven't had time to change anything," Spiridon explained. "Why do you think we did, anyway?"
"This metallic thing you saw?" Both of them nodded. "It looks suspiciously like a big eared rabbit."
"A rabbit?" The response was simultaneous. Both Jackal and Spitfire blinked, confused.
"Well, that's the closest the computer can come to a 50% match. Couldn't you have gotten better footage?"
"Better footage? I was recording at the highest quality!" Spiridon was even more confused now.
"It's all fuzzed up! The one that's walking could be a Yeti or an ambulatory rock pile, for all the matches the computer's found. Heck, they could be mirages!"
"You don't have a clue about it either, do you?" Jackal said.
Glast groaned. "No, I don't. It only gets more confusing. Just tell me that one of you actually saw them disappear?"
Both shook their heads.
"Well that's just great. Because that's exactly when the interference in the video is at its worst. All it looks like is a fisheye's view of a multicolored cotton ball. At least tell me you have something to go over that makes sense?"
"Here," Jackal said, handing her the vial. "It's the grass sample I took on the ridge."
"Great. Maybe this leaf will make up for all the sleep I lost when that video came through!" Glast stormed off.
"Maybe you shouldn't have given that to her," Spiridon whispered.
"Why? What'll she do to it?"
"Well, last time I gave her something to look at, she took a hammer to it."
"Oh," Jackal said. "I guess we're going to need more samples."
"Maybe. Now, let's get something from the kitchen. I don't know about you, but I really could eat."
***
Shocked, Flynn surveyed the scene in the elevator. The swirling dust was eating away at Orion's tires. Thankfully, the shields was keeping it back from the main buggy, but the tiny sphere was starting to flicker. "I think some of this stuff got into the wiring," Orion explained. "What is it?"
"The AMS," Flynn said. "It's nanotech. It's programmed to break down what it considers clutter."
"What does it consider clutter?"
"Anything not bolted onto the station."
"Oh, great. Any idea how to stop it?"
"Just one," Flynn admitted. "Keep those shields up." He flipped off the safety, then opened fire on the cloud. Swathes of the microscopic machines fell, but none seemed to remain inoperative.
"This isn't working, Flynn," Orion said. "Try upping the power!"
"I'm already at max!" Flynn suddenly noticed that some patches of dust were forming on the floor. "It's working, but its not hitting enough of them! I'm going to try to use your shields to disperse the effect evenly! Brace yourself!" Red light rippled across the surface of Orion's shield. All of the machines in contact with it, directly or indirectly, fell to the floor.
"Great! Now, what about the ones inside?"
"We can't do anything about them now. Just get out!"
Orion needed no further prodding. He was out of his buggy in seconds. In under a minute, he was strapping in to Flynn's passenger seat as the shields came up again.
"What about my buggy?"
"Sorry Orion, we have to leave it." Using the shields, Flynn nudged the ruined vehicle into the hall. He blasted all of the dust in the elevator one more time, to be safe; then he triggered the lift. As the doors closed, he saw the small pile of dust that had followed him begin to 'feast' on the disabled car.
***
Krieger had finished lunch and was headed to the armory to reset the lasers for training mode. Unexpectedly, his comm beeped. Surprised, he answered. "Krieger here. What's the problem?"
"Chris, it's Jay. We're about ready to head back, and we have a passenger. I'm sending you facial features and prints now. Could you run it through the database?"
"It'll take time for the request to go through. Background checks aren't exactly top priority when no new personnel are expected."
"That's fine. I just want to know. There's something strange about this guy. Kestrel out."
Krieger shrugged off the strange conversation. Where the team had found the passenger wasn't important. He continued on his way for the armory. Kestrel's request wasn't urgent, so he would use the terminal there to start the check, while recalibrating the weapons. Nothing like a bit of multi-tasking to put one back to work.
***
The hiss of air refilling the shuttle's exit bay masked Flynn's sigh of relief. Though there had only been two close calls on this mission, he was ready to call it a day. He clambered out of his buggy, followed by Orion.
"Why again didn't you tell us what this AMS was before it tried to eat us?" the technician demanded.
"The existence of a working nanotech device is highly classified. It wasn't registering as active on scanners, so I decided to keep the true nature of the AMS on a need to know basis."
"So, because of your assumption, we're down a buggy and almost down a man. Flynn, if you'd explained what was down there, I would have had the shields up from the start!"
"I admit I made a mistake," Flynn hissed. "However, the AMS is still classified. So if you expect us to remain on active duty, we are both going to keep this secret."
"And how exactly do you intend to explain the loss of an entire vehicle?" Orion whispered back. The edge in his voice reminded Flynn that that buggy had been Orion's pet project.
"The truth. We encountered the AMS, and it destroyed one buggy. Besides, you agreed to this mission."
"I didn't know what we'd be dealing with!"
"Well, get used to it. The unknown is going to be the norm out here. We're not on Earth anymore." Flynn marched out the bay's door, heading for the bridge. Orion followed.
"Darn it Flynn, you could at least apologize for this!"
"Fine, Orion. I'm sorry we couldn't recover the car, but it was get out while we could or get broken down ourselves. If you have a problem with that, that's your problem." Flynn stormed through the shuttle, Orion following sullenly.
***
Both engineer and technician were still fuming by the time they stepped onto the shuttle's bridge.
"What happened over there?" Kestrel asked, eyes flicking between his controls and their faces.
"The AMS wrecked my buggy," Orion explained. "It's unsalvageable." He glowered, thinking about how much work he'd have to do to replace his car.
"Did you get the recorder?"Johnson asked, entering from the hall.
"No. It was destroyed long before we got here. How's our guest?" Flynn's subject change passed without comment.
"Still unconscious. His vitals are stable, but there doesn't seem to be any reason he should be out. We won't know more until we get him back to Doc."
"Well then, we shouldn't stick around here. Jay, take us home."
The shuttle's thrusters flared as it left station-keeping. Flynn turned towards the hall again. "Let's see what Dustin's been able to pull from the recorders."
@***@
Glast rubbed her eyes, then yawned. She was rapidly approaching a complete 24 hours without sleep, and although she could handle up to 72, she did not enjoy staying awake for this long. The working noises of the DNA sequencer reminder her why she was awake at this ridiculous hour. "This had better be some really special grass that Jackal found," she muttered.
"You've missed a lot of sleep, if you're saying something so easily misinterpreted as that," a voice said. Glast turned, noticing the first officer entering the lab.
"Morning, Andre," she said, with another yawn. "I'm busy with this sample Jackal brought back. What's your excuse?"
Picard waved a data plate."Met Tom on the way here. He looked about the same way you do, so I volunteered to take care of this so he could get some sleep."
"And what is 'this', exactly?"
"Biometric comparisons. This log recording here, the odd one out, as it were, was recorded under additional security. Aubrey's codes unlocked it, but Tom wanted to compare the biometric ID that belonged to the person who made the log with the one we have on record for John."
"Why? It's him, we can tell."
"Tom thinks that something's off about this log, and I agree."
"And so do I. Andre, we all know that no one could have ordered a secret construction like that except for Falconer, and he doesn't know anything about it!"
"I know, but there's something more. If the recorder kept this log, there shouldn't be any reason it didn't keep others like it. It's almost as if someone wanted us to find this one."
Glast blinked in surprise. "Wait, you mean that's the only one that mentions the bunker?"
Picard nodded. "Tom's been up just as long as you have. He finished going through the entire recorder. That's the only evidence that something was out of the ordinary."
The sequencer beeped. Glast glanced at the report, then ordered a print out. "Well you've got your mystery, and I've got my answer. I'll run a comparison later. Good night." She tugged at the report, but it didn't come loose. "Blasted printers! I knew I should have gotten a digital scan! It's stuck!"
"Here, let me try," Picard said. Gently, he pulled at the paper. It slowly came free of the printer. His eyes widened as he noticed the first line of base pairs.
"Thanks Andre," Glast said. But Picard wasn't listening. He followed the genetic information down almost half the page, before becoming certain about his suspicions.
"This is from the sample of grass that they brought back?" he asked.
"Yes. Why, what is it?" Glast replied.
"Then something is very odd. This," he said, indicating the strings of DNA data, "is almost an exact match to the genome of grass from Earth."
***
"There wasn't much to find," Dustin explained. "I superimposed the course I got from the recorders on a simulation of the inner solar system. It went into orbit around the sun, but once contact was lost, no one was in control to compensate for the solar wind. The station drifted outwards, heading outward, and wound up here within the past week. Or at least, that's what the recorders say."
"You don't sound sure that they're right," Flynn observed. "Something wrong?"
"I won't know for sure until I've gone over the sensor records, too. The course, though, just seems very unlikely. The solar wind makes sense, but having only entered orbit here within the past week, after being lost for years? It all just seems very unlikely. I calculated the odds, and the odds against are..."
"Remember that asteroid collision?" Flynn interrupted.
"Yes, but what's that got to do with this?"
"The odds were against that, too. Just keep in mind, Dustin, the odds aren't always right." Flynn turned towards the corridor once more. "If you do find anything that definitely doesn't fit, though, make sure to tell us."
"Will do."
Flynn walked back to the bridge. "How long until we land?" he asked Kestrel.
"About 5 minutes."
"Call sickbay. Tell Doc that we've got a patient for him."
"Way ahead of you. And Flynn, one more thing."
"What is it, Jay?"
"I asked Krieger to run a background check on our guest. He's sending me the results now."
Everyone on the bridge crowded around the screen. The results flashed by: GENETIC PROFILE: NO MATCH. FINGERPRINTS: NO MATCH. IRIS SCAN: NO MATCH.
"Impossible!" Flynn exclaimed. "Anyone who would have access to the tech that he showed up in would have those listed! It's as if he appeared from nowhere!"
"I think I can explain," a voice from the doorway said. Everyone spun around. Their guest stood there, illuminated by the sun peeking over the edge of Mars, and smiling slightly. "My name is Seb, and the reason you won't find me in any of those records is because I don't yet exist."
***
End of Part 4Sincerely,
Picard