Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Drift and Cure continued to travel toward Cancri B.
They avoided any ships they encountered. That was easy to accomplish. Their monitoring ranges had been expanded. As soon as they detected another vessel, they shifted their path temporarily.
When the space in front of them was clear, Drift flew their modified freighter all-out.
But he was unable to break the speed records set for that type of vessel.
“We’re only a heartbeat off.” He was confident he could accomplish his goal. “On our return trip, our cargo hold should be emptier. That’ll give us the engine capabilities we require.”
“We’ll have fewer nourishment bars.” Cure pointed his handheld at him. Everything Drift experienced was being noted. “If we have excess medical supplies at the end of our mission, I’ll leave them on Cancri B. According to my contact, they’re in need of supplies.”
“They’ll be in need of a Rayan Skin Restorer also.” Drift teased the medic. “We could leave that on the planet.”
“We could leave the Rayan Skin Restorer on the planet.” Cure surprised him with that response. “But we won’t leave it there. It’s returning to the Dauntless with me.”
Drift laughed.
“You derive joy from provoking me.” The medic shook his head. “That’s not logical.”
“I derive tremendous joy from provoking you.” Drift’s mirth increased while he decreased their ship’s speed.
They had passed Powlus Zetus, and the charts for the part of the sector they were entering were incomplete. There would be no more attempts at breaking speed records. The probability of collisions was too high.
“If you listened to your organic side once in a while, you would process not everything is 100.0000 percent logical.” He told Cure. “Life is?—”
Red lights flashed on the console.
“My organic side is…inconsistent,” Cure muttered. “It serves no purpose to listen to it.”
“Apply your machine side to our current situation.” Drift projected the readings onto the main viewscreen.
The medic studied the displayed information. “It must be a ship.”
It was the size of a land transport, but… “Our systems relay it’s an unspecified lifeform.”
“That lifeform is situated in open space.” Cure straightened. “It must be wearing a new type of suit. And for a suit to enable the being to travel that range, it must be utilizing new technology.”
“I’m flying us closer to investigate.” Drift changed their trajectory.
“The mission should be our focus.” Cure’s protest was weakly worded. The medic was interested in the lifeform also.
“The lifeform is situated 2.3562 degrees to the east.” Drift wasn’t concerned about the deviation. “The time taken to investigate it will be minimal, and there’s no processing the possible benefits.”
“That new technology could be utilized to save lifespans.” Cure was focused on that aspect.
Drift was more interested in the transport capabilities. To travel at high speeds wearing only a suit would be thrilling.
And he would set all the speed records in that category.
The category didn’t currently exist.
“I’m sharing this with our brethren.” Cure transmitted their previous observations along with their current feed to every cyborg in the universe.
Proceed with caution. Their captain was the first to respond. Assume the entity is hostile.
There are tales, in this sector, of large creatures that fly through deep space. Strike, their former second-in-command, relayed that intel.
No visuals of those large creatures have ever been recorded. Argot, their communications officer, was more skeptical. If they existed, that documentation should exist.
Drift had doubts about that. Many of the sector’s planets weren’t documented.
This is exhilaratingly random. Grid was thriving on the chaos.
I’ve linked with your ship remotely. Choice, their newest engineer, informed them. I haven’t uncovered any malfunctions.
The modified freighter wasn’t malfunctioning.
Drift sucked back that retort.
The kid was trying to add value. And if Drift had viewed the data remotely, there was a 45.2569 percent probability damage to the vessel’s systems would have been one of his projections also.
Chatter filled the transmission lines. Thousands of discussions and debates occurred at the same time.
Being cyborgs, Drift and Cure could follow them all.
“We have visuals.” Drift placed the image on the main viewscreen and zoomed in on it.
All the transmission lines fell instantly silent. The quiet was eerie.
It was warranted. Drift couldn’t find the words in his databases to express what they were seeing.
A huge green lifeform chomped happily on an asteroid. It had large unshielded eyes and a solid shell on its back. The creature paddled its four flipper-ended limbs very, very slowly. It appeared to float on the intergalactic waves.
Whoa. Grid was the first to transmit.
That’s no spacesuit. Choice relayed information they all already processed.
Don’t fire upon it unless I give the command. Captain issued that unnecessary order.
Drift wouldn’t damage the lifeform. Not unless it sought to damage them.
That was a low-probability event. The creature appeared to be more interested in devouring its rocky snack than provoking hostilities.
The closest match in our databases is the leatherback sea turtle. Strike relayed that intel. It was once found on Ancient Earth. The Ancient Earth lifeform was 18.6185 times smaller than this one, however. And it existed in that planet’s oceans.
Not in fraggin’ space. Grid’s excitement was as acute as Drift’s.
Lifeforms do exist in oxygen-devoid environments. Cure added his input.
The universe contained a vast range of beings.
But to exist in zero pressure, with no atmosphere at all, that’s a biological achievement. The medic’s tone was flat while his words hinted at an uncharacteristic-for-him wonder.
It was a feeling Drift shared. They were looking at a never-before-documented species with never-before-witnessed abilities.
And stars, it was flying, unassisted, through space.
Albeit disappointingly slowly.
The lifeform could be creating its own atmosphere. Choice presented that theory.
I’m flying the modified freighter closer to the space turtle. Drift edged their vessel toward the creature.
Space turtle? Grid laughed.
Until we uncover how the locals refer to the creature, that’s as good a name as any other. Their captain sounded amused.
I’m noting it in the databases as a space turtle. Strike modified those shared files.
As their modified freighter approached the large creature, it leisurely lifted its head and stared at the vessel with its big eyes.
Drift rested his fingers on the controls and watched for any signs of hostilities. He prepared to reverse the modified freighter quickly if the space turtle reacted violently.
That caution wasn’t necessary.
The creature blinked once, twice, and then returned to feeding on the asteroid.
It isn’t hostile. Drift said that with 95.2369 percent certainty. But we’re maintaining a respectful distance from it. He flew the modified freighter around the creature.
The space turtle was focusing on recharging its energy levels. That was a vital task. He would disturb it as little as possible.
There has been no change in our environment. Cure studied the creature. It has adapted to open space.
They took more readings. And they recorded every angle of the space turtle. The documentation that Argot had earlier said was lacking now existed.
The creature finally completed its enthusiastic crunching of the asteroid.
It then looked at the modified freighter with a gleam in its eyes.
Drift decided it was prudent to leave.
But the wonder and the awe and the realization they were part of an amazing yet-not-fully-explored universe stayed with him for a long duration after the experience.
They were truly exploring new terrain.
And that was extremely exciting.
* * *
The rest of the journey to Cancri B, by contrast, was disappointingly uneventful.
They detected very few ships en route, and those vessels were easy to avoid.
Several planets were spotted that didn’t appear on any charts. Drift noted their characteristics and location and gave them temporary names like Big Blue 3.0 and Little Green 2B.
Cure spent his time monitoring Drift’s responses and projecting how the space turtle could survive in its unique environment.
The medic also negotiated over the communication lines with his contact on the planet.
That male didn’t want to meet with him.
Which Drift found vastly entertaining. But he didn’t share that with Cure.
Because the medic wasn’t amused. At all.
“He says he’s too busy with patients.” Cure’s voice was devoid of all emotion. “I’m telling him I’m a medic.” He tapped his fingertips against the face of his handheld. “I’ll assist him with his patients.”
There was a pause.
“He now says I don’t know enough information about their cases to assist him.” Cure’s forehead furrowed with processing lines. “I’m telling him I’ll read their case files.”
There was more to beings than their case files. Drift kept that response to himself also.
“He says he doesn’t have the time to explain to me why medics can’t treat patients based on their case files alone.” Cure hunched over his handheld. “I’m telling him if he kept better records, it would?—”
“Stop.” Drift couldn’t remain silent. The medic would anger his contact so much he would never agree to meet with them. “Delete that.”
“It’s the truth.” Cure looked at him. “The male is incompetent.”
“The male has information we require.” Drift reminded him. “Delete it.”
Ten heartbeats passed.
“I’m deleting it.” Cure conceded that point. “It’s not logical but I’m doing it.
Thank the stars. Tension whooshed out of Drift.
He flew their modified freighter toward the planet and crafted a reply. “Tell your contact you’re bringing him medical supplies and giving him the temporary usage of machinery to assist him with his patient load.”
“My skills should be sufficient,” The medic jutted his jaw.
“Tell him that.” Drift wouldn’t move on his stance.
Cure stared at him for five heartbeats.
“I’m relaying your words to him.” The medic entered his response into the handheld. “Though all of that intel isn’t required. Having usage of the Rayan Skin Restorer is sufficient.”
“Ah yes, who could resist the Rayan Skin Restorer?” It was a struggle for Drift to contain his amusement.
“No one with functional processors could do that.” Cure’s tone was sincere.
Silence stretched.
“As projected, he couldn’t say no to that offer.” Cure nodded. “He has agreed to meet with me. And he has sent the coordinates and some other unnecessary details.”
Strike had already arranged Drift’s meeting with his contact. That contact projected he’d be speaking with a previous purchaser of a stolen ship, a Powluk.
Drift’s presence would be a surprise.
But that was the only way the face-to-face encounter could be set up. The Cancri B contact didn’t trust strangers.
“We have visuals of the planet.” Drift displayed that image on the main viewscreen. Cancri B was…orange. There was very little water on the surface. Or vegetation.
“I’m performing a lifeform scan.” Cure swept his hands over his control panel. “There are 23,525 humanoids and 92 humans on the planet.”
That was…disappointing.
“Either the Humanoid Alliance is blocking our lifeform scan or they don’t have a presence on Cancri B.” Drift tilted his head to the side. “The development of a superweapon would require a base. And they wouldn’t operate a base with only 92 humans.”
“No one has hailed us.” Cure pointed out that telling truth. “They wouldn’t have a base with no security.”
“They have to have some presence on the planet.” Drift was 98.1278 percent certain of that. “The vessel sold to the Powluks was a Humanoid Alliance Class A warship.”
“We have Humanoid Alliance Class A warships,” Cure countered with more facts. “The vessel could have been taken from a base on another planet by another being, flown here, and then the contact stole it.”
That was a concrete possibility.
“Fraggin’ hole.” Drift’s shoulders sagged. “We could have flown here for no reason.”
He hadn’t even set any speed records during the journey.
Though they had discovered a space turtle.
That was something. A big something.
“I’ll have to deal with the medic for no reason.” Cure gazed down at his handheld.
“And we will have to meet with our contacts.” Both of them.
The modified freighter shook slightly as they entered the atmosphere.
Drift steadied the vessel. “We can’t assume, based on a lifeform scan alone, that the Humanoid Alliance doesn’t have a presence here.”
“We have to investigate further.” Cure nodded.
“I’m completing three orbits of the planet.” Drift flew their vessel in the same direction as Cancri B’s rotation.
The planet consisted of rock-covered mountains, long-dried river beds, and flat expanses of sand. There were no spacecrafts flying at their high elevation. Their path was clear.
It would be perfect for setting speed records.
If that was their goal.
Drift flew frustratingly slowly. Because the purpose of the orbits was to gather intel.
There wasn’t much information to glean. There were only eight settlements, if a being pointing them out was generous with that description. None of them contained more than five hundred domiciles.
“There’re no Humanoid Alliance compounds.” Cure watched the footage on the main viewscreen. “Nothing is made of that gray simulated stone they prefer.”
“But that land transport is one of theirs.” Drift froze that image. “And there’s another one.” He captured that image also. “And another.”
One vessel might have been stolen from another planet. It was unlikely three would be taken. The small ships weren’t designed for interplanetary flights.
“Human lifeforms are located close to them.” Cure’s head dipped. “It’s improbable that’s a coincidence. The Humanoid Alliance must have a presence here.” He gazed at the main viewscreen. “But where is their base?”
“They might not have a base.” That wasn’t standard Humanoid Alliance protocol but, with their numerous defeats and the killing of their top commanders, they might have modified their process.
“That would imply they’re engaging in a covert operation.” Cure leaned forward. “Stealth isn’t a Humanoid Alliance strength.”
“Never underestimate the enemy.” Drift had seen space turtles on their voyage. He wasn’t ruling out any possibilities.
Cure said nothing.
Drift slowed their ship.
“We’ve reached your meeting coordinates.” He hovered the vessel above that point.
“There’s nothing located here other than rock and sand.” Cure waved one of his hands at the image on the main viewscreen.
Drift narrowed his gaze at the image. “There’s nothing located on the surface here other than rock and sand.”
“I’m not detecting any lifeforms within human walking range of these coordinates.” Cure had run that scan.
Drift had a theory about why they weren’t detecting lifeforms.
But he required more inputs before he shared it with Cure.
“We’re landing here.” He lowered the modified freighter to the planet’s surface.
Moments passed.
Nothing happened. No beings emerged from the ground. No alarms sounded.
That was…disappointing.
His theory might not be valid. He had to further test it.
Drift rose to his booted feet. “I’m exiting the ship.” He swept his hands over his body armor. All the holsters and sheaths built into that protective garment were filled with weapons.
“I’ll accompany you.” Cure did the same. The male might be a medic now, but they had all been trained for missions like the one they were currently on.
The two of them moved toward the exterior doors.
Drift performed another lifeform scan.
No beings were detected.
He drew a gun with one hand and opened the doors with the other.
The ramp lowered. A blast of dry, hot air hit his face.
“Oxygen levels are within human range.” Cure verified his reading. “The air is compatible with human life.”
The Humanoid Alliance could have made Cancri B their base.
Those enemy forces were all human.
Drift swung his weapon from the left to the right and back again as he walked slowly down the ramp. His visual system spotted no movement other than the sand shifting on the rock-covered ground.
They reached that surface.
Cure crouched beside Drift. He pointed his handheld at the stone by their booted feet.
“Let me make a projection.” Drift kept watch. “The rock blocks lifeform scans.”
“That hasn’t yet been determined.” Cure covered his hand with a layer of sand.
Drift ran a lifeform scan. “I detect one cyborg male with your dimensions. Minus one hand.”
“My scans relay the same results.” The medic tossed the sand back onto the ground. He straightened. “The stone and the sand block lifeform scans.”
Drift looked around them. Mountains loomed to the right of them. Sand dunes stretched in the other direction. “We’re surrounded by stone and sand.”
“My contact could be situated under our booted feet.” Cure stared down at his footwear.
A wayward medic wasn’t Drift’s concern.
“ The Humanoid Alliance could be situated under our booted feet.” Drift shifted his weight from his left side to his right. That prospect made him extremely uneasy. “They could have fabricated a massive compound underneath the ground, and we wouldn’t process it.”
That wouldn’t be unusual for their enemy. Some of the Humanoid Alliance’s laboratories on other planets had been fabricated below surface level.
“They would have attacked us by now.” Cure dismissed that possibility. “And my contact wouldn’t have suggested this location if the Humanoid Alliance were situated here. He wouldn’t put the Rayan Skin Restorer at risk.”
Drift’s lips twitched. “You might have been manufactured in a vat, Cure—” As all of them, excluding the freeborn cyborgs, had been. “—but you are one of a kind. It’s a privilege to undertake a mission with you.”
Cure looked at him.
Drift gazed blankly back.
“I project your comments aren’t serious, but I don’t process what the joke is.” Cure shrugged. “We should unpack the supplies and the equipment. My contact is due to meet with me within 811 heartbeats.”
That contact would provide more information about where the Humanoid Alliance was situated on the planet.
Drift could wait for those answers.
He opened the cargo hold, and they began unloading the designated supplies.