Part 1,Part 2,Part 3,Part 4,Part 5,Part 6,Part 7,Part 8,Part 9,Part 10,Part 11,Part 12,Part 13,Part 14
"Flag At the Edge of Space" page, Athena Home Page, Other Stories Home Page.
Hall gathered his senior officers in the situation room. The six of them sat around the small table, jostling for space for their elbows, coffee mugs and padds. The captain stood up and looked over the other five, including Abuna, Weisser, Gerthe, Quirk and Torres. "Okay," he started. "That's the situation. We have the alien woman on board, but we lack the knowledge to treat her. Our only option appears to be to take her back to her people. The only data we got is the visual image of the course that the ship apparently took from an originating point. Commander Abuna, have you been able to locate this planet?"
"I believe so, captain, or at least the star." She tapped at a flat location on the table, causing a section of it to rise out and turn sufficiently to reveal a few controls. Abuna pressed a sequence of keys to display a visual recording of the data from the alien ship flight deck. "This shows the course the ship took. For some time, it was travelling in a more erratic manner, quite likely examining other, nearby systems. Then it moved into deep space and into hyperdrift."
"Can you align this image with our star maps of this section of space?"
"Yes," the first officer and science officer replied. "We did some fresh scans, possible now that we've been out of warp for a number of hours now, and updated the maps. I can get them to line up." Abuna manipulated the screen display to generate a transparent image of the updated star maps the Atlas had for this region of space. She had to rotate and alter the scale of the map, but she soon was able to get a pretty good match between the charts and the visual image. "The high exactness of this match suggests that this is the correlation between the map and the visual image. The ship originated at this star." That section of the map was enlarged, to reveal a system containing a single F7-class star. It had no name, just a number assigned to it by the stellar cartographer. He had divided the space they had travelled through into sectors that had fifty light years to a side. The stars within were assigned a number based on their characteristics and the position relative to the centre of the sector. Abuna continued, "The type of star has all the characteristics of a star capable of supporting a class-M planet. It's stable, and it's of the right age. However, it is almost thirty light years away from our current position, and at that distance, I can't tell directly what kind of planets it might have."
Weisser spoke up, "Going there could add ten to fifteen days to our mission."
"I understand that," Hall remarked. Turning to his engineer, he asked, "William, can we handle that? Do we have the resources and supplies for this side mission?"
"We do," Gerthe answered. "Such contingencies were taken into account when the amount and type of supplies were calculated. We do have fuel for such a side trip, and our food resources should not run out, especially since the hydroponics tanks have started to provide a wide variety of fruits and vegetables."
Abuna spoke up, "I believe that we should do it."
"Sir, I must speak up," the pilot started. "Although what happened to this woman is unfortunate, we must remember that our first mission is to go to Rigel. We've been out here a long time already, and this diversion is not something that we need."
Hall answered, "I believe that it is important that we help those we find along the way, those who need our help. That's one of the things that the Federation believes is important, and it's the kind of thing that we represent."
"I understand that too, but I don't think that planet is their homeworld." Naturally, Hall and Abuna and others wanted to know what made him jump to that conclusion, so he answered without even waiting for the question. "I mean, look at that course, the stars they're looking at. That looks like a survey pattern, an exploration pattern. Would you send out a small two-man ship, especially one with some of the advanced features we've seen on it, to conduct such a mission from your homeworld? I mean, wouldn't you know all about the local area? This ship clearly represents advanced technology, with their replicators and personnel transporters and their advanced engines. We've had warp drive for a century now, but that ship is more advanced yet."
"So you're saying that planet is not their homeworld?"
"No," Weisser continued. "I don't think it is. Look at their ship. It appears to be old, and it is well-worn. Unless it travelled thirty light years at sublight speed, I just can't see that kind of wear and tear on a ship coming only a journey from that planet."
"Then why did this diagram show that the ship originated there?"
"I don't know."
Abuna stepped in, saying, "Although we might rule out this planet being the homeworld, it is possible that it might be a colony or an outpost of some kind, and they lack the resources there to maintain the cosmetic appearance of their ship. They could well be exploring the neighbouring regions."
"Yes, that's possible," Weisser conceded.
Hall finally spoke up. "I've come to the conclusion that there is no practical reason why we cannot help this alien woman, and take her back to the planet. Hopefully, her people have some presence there, and can treat her in ways that we can't. The alternative is to let her die in our sickbay. The only objection that I'm aware of is the increased mission time. I believe that the properness of helping this individual outweighs the inconvenience of the mission time."
Weisser spoke up again, saying, "What happens if we approach this planet--assuming that there is one--and there's nobody there, nobody related to the alien woman? Do we keep searching? How long do we keep searching?"
"That's a problem that I'll worry about when the time comes. What comes next could well depend on what we find at the planet. I believe that this is the right course of action we should take. This is the kind of thing that I want the Federation to be known for. We're not just soldiers or explorers or diplomats. We want to help where the help is needed. It is the only decent thing to do. William, I want you to secure the alien ship to our hull using tractor beams, and constrain the ship to remain within our warpfield. Would that put an undue stress on the ship?"
"No."
"Weisser, plot the course to this planet, and be prepared to execute it once we're ready. We'll get to Rigel eventually, people, but right now, we need to do this."
* * *
"Command officer's log, March 6, 2170, mission day two hundred and thirty-three." Hall paused for a moment, wondering again what he was supposed to say, or should say. "Within the day, we will arrive at this planet, which has assumed the name of Alienworld as given by the crew. At first, we thought that this world might be the homeworld for the ill alien woman that we picked up ten days ago, but as we get closer, we do not believe that to be the case. This system appears to be uninteresting. At this distance, we have been able to scan the planetary system, and determined that there is a strong likelihood of a class-M planet around that star. But we have not scanned any other ships or large space installation, and have not detected any unusual energy readings or electromagnetic radiation coming from this system. We don't know what we'll find here. As for the alien woman, she continues to drift in and out of consciousness. When conscious, she tries to speak, but her voice is weak and the language she speaks is unknown to us. Perhaps if she was in good health, we could attempt to use first-contact techniques and learn her language while she learns ours, but that is not possible now. Doctor Torres has done the best job that can be expected of her in keeping her alive, even though he cannot offer much in the way of nutrition. She has survived ten days on the Atlas basically without eating. I just know that Manuel is frustrated in that he cannot do more for her."
* * *
Hall was on the bridge just before the start of his shift. He watched as the first-shift officers relieved the third-shift officers, and looked over the consoles to familiarize themselves with the current situation. Hall was already familiar. The Atlas was just two and a half hours from Alienworld.
Seeing the way that Abuna was looking over the readings gathered by the third-shift sensor officer and comparing that data to previous scans and new ones she was conducting right now, Hall could tell that she was not optimistic. "Not good news?" he asked.
"I'm increasingly of the opinion that this planet is not home to an advanced, space-going civilization. We're down to a colony, but it is at best a small colony. At worst, a failed colony. It might be a more primitive colony as well. Based on what we have seen, colonization usually requires a commitment, in terms of personnel, ships, and even orbiting infrastructure. I'm seeing none of that here."
"Then why did that star map you saw had the ship start at this system?"
"I don't know. I spent a good part of the evening looking at the scan from that flight deck display, and comparing it to our star maps and the latest data. Everything I see indicates that this is the star at which the ship started its journey. It could be that the planet was a way station on some other journey, and they might've reset their displays. We simply can't work the alien consoles."
"I see," Hall remarked. He did know that since they begun this journey, the small alien ship was held against the hull, and within the warpfield, by a tractor beam. That meant getting on board the ship impossible, although Gerthe had expressed the desire to go on board and look around "and see what makes it tick." Hall still felt that was not the best idea.
The captain waited for a short time before he turned on the intercom panel beside his seat, and tapped in the code for sickbay. Seconds later, he could hear a click, and Torres' voice, "Sickbay."
"What's the latest news?"
"Not good, sir," the doctor started. "She has been unconscious for twenty hours now, and her vital signs are starting to slip. Breathing and heart rates are at observed lows, and even the brainwave patterns are starting to deteriorate. The so-called ‘dream states' have all but disappeared. She's dying of starvation, and there's nothing I can do about it." The last few words were spoken with a sense of frustration, a feeling that Hall had been detecting from the doctor a lot lately.
"Doctor," Hall started, "you have done incredible work under the circumstances."
"I still feel that I could've done more. If she dies, this could haunt me. It's worse than when a human patient dies, because you can learn from that, understand why it happened, and hopefully prevent it the next time. With this woman, I don't know."
Hall had no reply for that comment. He just hoped that the species that the alien woman belonged to had a presence at this world, because this was their only option. If nobody was here, then they had no idea where the homeworld was. They could spend a lifetime looking for it, and the woman only had a very short time left. As the Atlas completed its approach to the planet, Hall thought about this situation. He wondered what they could do to avoid this from happening again. Was there something that they missed? If this were to happen in the future, could they do something different? Could they approach this differently? The hardest part to Hall was that they were not learning enough, beyond the fact that people of different species were quite different at the cellular level, even if there was a remarkable similarity between alien races like that of the mysterious woman and humans. The difference at the cellular level mattered much more than the similarities at the macro scale, and that made all the difference in how they could care for her.
The last two and a half hours of their journey was quiet and relatively uneventful. Hall checked in every hour, and heard Torres say just the same thing. The woman was slowly fading away, and even now, was barely holding on. In fact, he was surprised that she was still alive. "This could be one tough race," Torres said, on the last contact with the bridge before the arrival at Alienworld. "I'd like to meet them, and hope that they're potential allies."
"So would I," Hall replied. "So would we all."
"Captain," Weisser said, getting the attention of the captain and the others on the bridge. "We're on final approach. Dropping out of warp in thirty seconds."
"Commander," Hall said, as he turned to his right. "As soon as we're out of warp, begin the scan routines. We're coming in from almost directly above the poles, so we should have a good look at anything in orbit."
"Aye, sir," Abuna replied. She thought about, but did not mention, how this was the first time that they were putting their training and the results of the practice runs into a real mission. This was a real planetary survey, and perhaps even a real first contact situation. She was nervous, as was the captain and the others on the bridge. None of them had done anything like this. "Routines are ready." She checked the programming again, just to make sure.
"Dropping out of warp."
Hall was looking at the viewscreen as the Atlas dropped out of warp. The computer-generated image of the stars streaking was replaced by a real-time image of a planet that continued to approach slowly, even as Weisser started up the impulse engines in reverse-firing mode. They were coming in over the north pole, so they saw a large amount of ice, and the edges of the northern continents extending up into that ice. They could see some of the night side of the planet, but he could see no sign of any light or other sign of activity. Then again, they could not see much of the lower latitudes.
"Captain," Abuna started, "sensors have picked up two non-natural objects in orbit." Whatever hope the captain and the others felt was quickly dashed, however. "There is no sign of life on board. In fact, they appear to be nothing more than hollow shells, and have no atmosphere and no power. They're also space-cold, and pitted by micrometeorites."
Solemnly, Hall ordered, "Start scanning the surface. Helm, take us into an equatorial orbit, and make one powered orbit around the planet."
Weisser did as instructed, guiding the starship into a speedy orbit around Alienworld. From space, it looked like any other class-M world, with continents scattered about, their coastlines and the pattern of rivers and lakes essentially random. The upper latitudes had duller colours and ice, while the middle latitudes and the tropics were a lush green. Between were the tan and brown bands of the deserts, and the gray and purple bands of the mountains that folded upwards where the tectonic plates collided were all in evidence. As the Atlas passed around to the night side of the planet, they saw nothing, no cities, no light, no signs of an advanced technology.
However, the sensors told a different story. "Captain," Abuna started. "This planet does not appear to be inhabited now, at least by a sentient species, but at one time, it was. Sensors are picking up all kinds of cities and other infrastructure, things like roads and something that could be like railroads, and landform modifications, like canals and quarries and mines and the like. However, I'm reading no power signatures, and the sensors strongly indicate that the place has been abandoned."
"How widespread?"
"The distribution of ruins and abandoned structures is global."
"How long?"
"That's hard to say, but judging how the vegetation has reverted to the norm and encroaching on the cities, I'd say that the event happened about a hundred years ago, or more."
"But what happened?" Weisser asked. "Did they destroy themselves, or were they invaded, or what?"
"The infrastructure appears to be largely intact. Some of the damage might be an attack, or could be the elements reclaiming the structures. It's hard to tell from orbit. However, I doubt that this race destroyed itself in some cataclysmic war, and I don't see signs of a whole-scale off-planet invasion either."
Hall had the biggest on his mind. "Is this world the same xenotype as our guest in sickbay?"
"I can't tell that from orbit," Abuna remarked, and just by saying that, she knew that she would be leading another mission to the surface. If there were no large underground creatures or other surprises, she thought that she could complete this mission without any problems.
"Still," Gerthe started, "something doesn't add up here. If this planet is in fact the homeworld of the species the woman is from, then where did the ship come from? If this planet was destroyed that long ago, then the two must've set out on their journey well after the event that destroyed the planet. Were there survivors? Did they find a ship that might have been in a hanger or something? If so, it's a long shot that it would work, or that the two could operate it."
"Are there any survivors now?" Hall asked.
Abuna answered, "No, sir. I haven't detected even one. In addition, what William says is understandable. Closer analysis of the orbital structures, and of a selected location on the planet surface, suggests that extensive looting had occurred here. The orbital structures had been stripped bare, and it looks like that... someone helped themselves to a lot of stuff down there."
"So our guest is part of a group of scavengers?" Yuniki asked.
"Well, if they were, they didn't scavenge too much. We found nothing on the ship."
The operations officer thought of something else. "Well, there is one other approach. Maybe the two were on some long journey, and it took them a long time to get home. When they finally found the way home, they found that home no longer existed. Thus, they set out again, looking for any survivors by checking in the neighbouring systems. Then..." Yuniki let her voice trail off, as she and the others could follow her chain of reasoning. Nevertheless, she spoke up, "They returned to this planet, but the inhabitants were dead, perhaps due to some disease. They picked up the disease, and once they left the planet, it struck them too. It would account for the whole hopeless feeling I get whenever I see the woman, and think of the situation."
"That's unsettling," Gerthe remarked.
Abuna added, "But not risky to us. It's an extremely rare disease that can jump species like that, since it would need the same xenotype as itself in order to reproduce or spread. I don't think we're at risk."
* * *
The shuttlebay doors opened, and one of the shuttles lifted off the deck and quickly left the bay. Those on board, led by Abuna and Weisser, with the latter piloting, were greeted by the brilliant sight of the planet looming so large and so close, its blues and whites and greens almost overpowering. With the way that the sun was reflecting off of the water and the clouds and the land, they almost had to squint. The Atlas had moved over a section of the planet that was likely the most developed region, judging by the advanced infrastructure and the cities. Although the sensors continued to show minimal life, Abuna was hoping that landing at this city would at least reveal some clues about what happened here, and who lived here, and how the gravely ill woman in the Atlas sickbay factored into this.
After going through re-entry into the atmosphere, the shuttle slowed to a more normal airspeed, and approached the western fringe of the largest continent. Sensors had picked up a large, circular lake, so circular that it could be nothing but an ancient impact crater. Long, narrow peninsulas curved around this lake to its opening to the sea, and it was here that the most dense development had occurred. As the shuttle travelled through the clouds and into open sky, the city opened up before them. From several kilometres up, the tall skyscrapers were seemingly bunched together tightly. They came in various shapes, although mostly square or square with rounded corners, and they came in several colours, but mostly white. Some had thick columns, while others had smooth facades of glass. From high above, they looked to be mostly intact.
"Kind of reminds me of New York City," Abuna said, "with the skyscrapers all bunched together, almost like trees in a jungle growing tall to get into the light."
"But this doesn't seem like a practical location for a city," replied Roberta Lane, the assistant medical officer. "I mean, at the end of this long, narrow peninsula. Imagine the transportation problems getting people in and out of this location."
"Sensors are showing lots of roads, and what could be rapid-transit-type systems among them," Abuna said.
Security officer Takashi Yomiburo, the fourth member of the landing party, was also working on the sensor console. He added, "I've noticed that the inward edge of the peninsula is studded with piers and docking facilities. The lake must've been filled with ferries and transport ships." He conducted another scan, and added, "Indeed, most pier positions have ships, and a lot have sunk."
"But clearly war did not do this city in," Lane added.
"No, not a large-scale attack, anyway."
While the city from high above looked to be intact, closer to ground level, the story was different. Around the taller buildings were many smaller buildings, which were likely somewhat older structures. Most of them had burned, and quite likely it was one large fire that destroyed them all since from above, the path that the flames took were quite obvious. Weakened by the unchecked fires, the buildings eventually collapsed, spilling debris into the streets. Many of the taller buildings had their lower floors burned out, and higher up, the evidence of fires could also be seen. Many windows were broken, and a great deal of dust and grit covered the rest. After touring the city core and its immediate periphery, Abuna began to look for a place to set the shuttle down. She had to rule out the belts of parkland that they could see from above, since at ground level, the growth had become somewhat unrestrained. Weisser piloted the shuttle down what likely was a main street, a broad, multilane affair with a wide median. In places, the vegetation had taken over, with trees growing freely and grass-like weeds filling every space not occupied by hard concrete. The road itself was in remarkably good shape, although filled with small debris of various descriptions. Quite likely, a subway-like structure and not soil or ground existed under the road, Abuna felt. Finally, they came to an intersection with another broad road, and on each corner were rather tall buildings, although they were set off a distance to allow something of a square to form in the intersection. "Take us down there," the first officer ordered.
"Aye," Weisser said, as he guided the shuttle down to a perfect landing.
As the pilot powered down the shuttle, Abuna conducted one last sensor scan. "Nobody around. I'm not even reading any animals."
"Just plant life," Lane replied, "and whatever plant life exists here would be the ones not dependent on animals."
"Which is quite a lot," the first officer said. As she stood up, she continued, "Okay, our mission is three-fold. The first, to establish whether the xenotype here is the same as that of our guest in sickbay. The second is to see what race built this city and once lived here and what happened to them. The third is to make a connection between the woman and this planet."
"Number three could be a long shot, commander," Lane remarked, "considering we're just one small group in one city on a large planet."
"I know, but all indications are is that the ship we've been towing came specifically to this planet. We need to know why, since that might help us find her way home."
"Of course."
The group split up. Lane and Yomiburo started to walk down the roadway, to where a cluster of native plants had flourished in one of the median planters. A simple scan of that, and the collection of some specimens, would quickly establish the xenotype and whether or not it matched that of the woman. Weisser stayed with Abuna, who spent a few moments looking around at their surroundings. The whole place seemed so derelict, so abandoned. The silence was eerie. Above, the sun darted in and out of the clouds, but the air was rather still. Given the exposed position of this city on a long, narrow peninsula, Abuna thought it would be windier than this. Maybe this was just a calm period.
"It's so quiet," Weisser remarked. "That's what is so odd about this place."
"I know. This city would not be out of place on Earth."
"It's eerie," the pilot agreed. "But notice the absence of... anything. Clearly, no attack came here. The streets are deserted. Such wide streets, with what looks like lane markers, and even controlling wires embedded in the pavement, suggest vehicles. But do you see any?" He looked down as far as he could see in this city of gently curving roadways, but could see nothing that looked like a vehicle. "The stuff on the roads, simple debris, wind-blown stuff. The buildings are mostly intact since the fires did not pass through here, although the buildings do show some of the inevitable deterioration that comes from a lack of maintenance."
"Your conclusion?" asked the first officer.
"Maybe it was biological. Maybe some kind of plague hit this planet, and this city. It was not the kind of plague that caused apparently healthy people to drop dead in the streets, but rather it weakened them, drove them to their beds, and there they died, the cities essentially abandoned. It would explain the lack of bodies too."
"Perhaps."
The two moved off of the street and to the nearest of the buildings. One thing that Abuna noticed immediately was that the lettering on the signs around the entrance did not match at all the lettering that the alien used in her language. That of course proved nothing, since on Earth, many different alphabets and writing systems existed. This could simply be the case here. The two entered the building. Most of the glass on the bottom floor had been smashed, and the first floor looked to have been burned out from a cause within the building. Very little flammable material had been located here, but the signs of fire could be seen in the scorched walls and the remnants of chairs, desks and other furniture. What looked like some kind of computer was merely a rusting metal shell sitting on a frame of a desk. Puddles of water had reduced to a gooey mess what had been a carpet, and the smell was not exactly the best either. Extensive rust and other corrosion scarred the exposed metal, and the walls, especially near the windows, were stained with water.
"This was likely some kind of lobby or waiting area, given all the available room," Abuna said.
"It's too bad that most of the information we could've got from this had been destroyed."
"I know. I wonder if it is possible to go to one of the higher floors, which might be more intact."
"We'll need flashlights."
Outside of the building, the two encountered Lane and Yomiburo. Lane said, "Commander, we've taken samples. The xenotype is not that of the woman in sickbay. The very structure of the DNA is fundamentally different."
"That's confirmed?"
"This DNA is as different from that of the woman as the woman's DNA is from us."
Puzzled now, Abuna asked, "Then why did that small ship come to this world?"
"I don't know."
"That's even worse," Weisser remarked.
"What do you mean?"
"All around us are signs that some kind of plague destroyed this planet, something wiped out all life here. It's certainly possible that the aliens, the woman and her dead companion, came to this world, and perhaps stumbled across whatever organism it was that infected the inhabitants. They got the disease, and it is killing them, just not very quickly. As you said, her DNA is different from ours, and different from the inhabitants of this planet."
"In other words," Abuna remarked, "we might have been exposed too?"
"Yeah."
"Damn," the woman muttered.
Lane added, "It's possible that our decontamination procedures might remove the disease. If it exists, it could be airborne and rather contagious, if it managed to infect and kill everybody on this planet. On the other hand, it might have a long incubation period. We'll have to carefully monitor anything we breathe in or absorb."
"Should the tricorder be able to pick this up?" Weisser asked.
"It could, but we would not be able to identify it among anything else that would be floating in the air." To demonstrate just what she meant, Lane set up the tricorder to scan for anything that was airborne and microscopic. What surprised her was just how little it was. On the other hand, she could not tell if any of the spores and airborne bacteria and other contaminants was the disease, and which was just related to the life that remained on this planet. She logged what the tricorder picked up, so that she would have some idea of what the decontamination procedure on board the Atlas should remove.
"It might be best if we return to the ship," Lane started. "If we give the contaminant any chance to get into our cells and start to reproduce and adapt, it might be too late. Based on tests of the woman's blood, it's possible that the disease might be able to adapt to the host's genetic pattern and spread that way. If we start seeing similar antibodies in our blood, then we'll know that we have the disease."
"That almost makes it sound like this disease was a biological weapon."
"It probably was," Abuna remarked.
"In addition," Yomiburo added, "if we picked up the disease by coming here, and the woman and her companion picked it up by coming here, then we might have already picked it up simply by being on her ship and in contact with her, assuming that this disease can jump species."
"Too much to think about," Lane said. "We worked under the assumption that whatever struck the woman was limited to her xenotype and we were not at significant risk. Now that assumption might have been wrong. It was a risk to go on board that ship, and to bring her onto the Atlas."
"We had no idea at the time."
Abuna continued, "Since we're here, and we might have already been exposed on the Atlas, then we should remain here and continue our investigation. We still don't know why that ship came here in the first place. We're no closer to bringing this woman back to her home and the help she needs."
"Maybe there's no help possible," Lane continued. "Think of this place. If this plague is striking the entire population, and it has total mortality, then this society--and it certainly looks advanced to me--is going to put everything they have into finding a cure and reversing the course of this plague. It didn't work. Whatever they did did not work, and they all died. If the woman came here on her ship, and this is not a planet associated with her people, then her people can do nothing for her."
"And by extension, if we have the disease, there's nothing we can do about it."
"Looks that way."
Abuna thought about that. When she was in the training academy, one professor covered the possible ways that a starship could be lost. Picking up an alien disease was one of them. It was one of the unavoidable risks of starship exploration. The only way to totally avoid the risk was to avoid travelling to other planets. Even visiting planets that were known was risky, because what might have been harmless to the race living there might be deadly to visitors. However, given the nature of biology, the risk of picking up an alien disease was rather minimal, but it was not zero. Should a ship pick up a dangerous disease, then the consequences were established in the procedures of the Earth Starfleet, and Abuna was pretty sure that they would be followed in the new Federation Starfleet. The ship could not return to Earth, nor could it approach any other planet or installation. It would also do its best to avoid being "rescued" by some other ship, especially if that other ship had no idea what had happened on board the ship they came across. Oddly, Abuna noted, this regulation did not apply in the other direction. They were supposed to offer aid and assistance to stranded ships that they encountered. Was it possible, she wondered, if the woman, in her attempts to speak, might have been to warn them off? Because they might not be able to communicate with other ships that they encountered, the final order that a captain of a plague ship should give was to activate the self-destruct mechanism. This is what they had come to. Abuna suddenly felt saddened. The possibility that "hardly anybody in Starfleet will likely have to deal with" has come through for her. It was just her luck.
"We'll spend a few hours here," she finally said. "Lets gather what data we can, and then return to the ship. Maybe, through the merciful fortunes of any mythological beings that you believe in, we might not get this disease. I hate to think how it would end for us."
"Like that woman?" asked Weisser. "Bedridden, with those scabby sores?"
"No, self-destruction."
"Oh."
Abuna and Weisser got their flashlights, and returned to the building that they had entered earlier. They found what looked like elevator banks, but those were useless. Nearby was a stairwell. The door was rusted in place, and it took the combined efforts of the two to pull the door open. The hinges creaked noisily and eerily. Beyond, the stairwell was dark. Their beams cut into the darkness, where they saw stairs made of some kind of stone-like cement but stained with water. Puddles of water covered parts of the landing, and water stains littered the steps. They even found some kind of curious brownish-green growth on the walls. Considering it was perpetually dark in this stairwell, it was obvious that the moss-like plant did not rely on photosynthesis too much.
The two climbed four storeys, to get above most of the damage that had been visible from the outside. The doorway had to be forced open, since the metal edges of the door had corroded and fused with the doorframe. Beyond was a corridor, illuminated only at one end by an open door. They shone their strong flashlights down the length of the corridor, and found that the greenish-brown growth was mostly feeding on the carpet, but other masses were growing on the walls. Otherwise, the corridor looked intact. The two walked a short distance and picked a door at random. Their flashlights played over a sign that had been attached to the wall beside the door. Maybe it marked someone's office, or a business of some type. Weisser forced open the door, and entered what looked like a reception area. This had a big, circular disk on one side, and a short walkway towards a window and some kind of waiting area. Several doors lined that short walkway.
"Strange how this is so like Earth," Weisser remarked.
"Yes, I've noticed that. This place has offices, waiting areas, receptionist desks, just like home."
With only a little light coming in from a small window, the two could only see dimly within. Abuna went around to the other side of the desk, and was half-expecting to see skeletal remains on the floor by the chair. She saw nothing like that. Weisser went down the line, opening the doors to the offices and looking within. Abuna saw that the receptionist desk was mostly empty, but covered with a thick layer of dust, as was everything else in the room. However, off to one side was what looked like a pad of paper. The top sheet had turned yellow and had curled, with much of the edges having crumbled away. Abuna shone a light on the paper, and could see what looked like handwriting, but the ink had faded to near invisibility. Instead, she lifted the top page, although that just caused the brittle paper to crumble in her hands. Underneath, the sheet was almost in the same poor condition, but the handwriting was a bit clearer. Flipping through pages further down, Abuna saw just a deterioration of the paper along the edges, although overall, the paper had yellowed considerably. The handwriting was pretty clear. Judging by the relatively few different characters used and the columns and rows that they made, Abuna thought she was looking at a column of numbers. She scanned a few pages for later analysis on the Atlas. Next, she checked the drawers. The first one revealed some books, and thought the spines creaked as she opened them, and one book fell apart, the paper was preserved enough to allow her to see that they contained a mix of the same kind of characters she assumed were numerals, and others that might have been an alphabet. She scanned samples of both. A small drawer opened to reveal what could only be personal items, including something that might have been a hair brush, and others that might have been clips. She saw some small bottles that contained what looked like medication. At the bottom was something else, a disk of plastic with something enclosed within. She pulled it out and shone her light more firmly on it.
"Commander," Weisser said, as he returned. "I've checked the other rooms. They're abandoned offices, lots of dust, looking like everything was put into order before the occupants left, and no bodies."
"I don't think we'll find bodies here. This was a business district. Look at this." She handed the man the plastic disk, and he shone his flashlight onto it.
"Well," he added. "That just about decides the issue. This planet was not the homeworld for the alien, nor a colony nor anything else." The disk contained a photograph, or something similar. It was a strikingly detailed and realistic image of three individuals, clearly a family. The shorter of the adults was a woman, considering the bustline, while the taller was the man. He had rather broad shoulders and bulky arms. The third was a child, of indeterminate gender. The skin was a gray, but it was a strange sort of gray, a deep, warm gray even. The eyebrows were bushy and a little wild, while the woman's hair was greenish-gray and spiky and thick and not terribly disciplined. It was the kind of effect Abuna could get in her hair if she never combed it, especially after washing it. It was hard to tell what kind of hair the man had, since it was cut so short. The clothing styles looked to be mostly a shimmery material in various colours. Whole outfits of that material could be a little gaudy, Abuna thought. On the other hand, maybe that was their version of fancy clothing.
"A family portrait," Abuna said. "Perhaps it belonged to the person who worked here. More than likely, it was the woman. Was this her handwriting? Did she go home one day, not feeling the best, and never returned? It's strange to think about it."
"It likely happened a hundred years ago, maybe more," Weisser said. "This place is frozen in time, at a peak in this planet, when something went wrong. Are you going to keep the disk?"
"Yeah," the first officer replied. "I'm not really collecting souveniers. However, using this, it might be possible to identify the race that once lived here, if the Vulcans and other individuals have information on these people. I think it's time to return to the Atlas. The decontamination procedures are going to take some time."
"Understood..."
* * *
The shuttle was approaching the Atlas, which loomed ever larger in front of them. Seeing that the ship was approaching, Hall contacted them. "What do you have to report, commander?" he asked.
"I don't have good news, captain. Indeed, I have some serious news. First of all, it appears that some type of disease wiped out all sentient life--all animal life, it appears--on this planet. We have little means of knowing whether or not the affliction that has struck the alien woman came from this planet, or whether or not we have been infected. We need to go through decontamination."
"Understood. I'll put the procedure into effect."
After the link was shut off, Weisser commented, "I don't like decontamination."
"Nobody does."
"And I don't think it'll do any good either. If we already have the disease, then what good is it?"
"Procedure is good,"
The pilot brought the shuttle to a perfect landing on the hanger deck. They waited on board for the hanger doors to close and the deck to repressurize. Once the four left the shuttle, they did not head for the exit. Instead, they went into the decontamination chamber. The entrance was like an airlock in that it had dual hatches, and the air within could be withdrawn and cleansed through various treatments. Within the chamber were a number of booths, which had opaque glass for privacy. Abuna and the others headed for the booths, where they had to remove their clothing and slide them into a disposal chute. Once undressed, she had to put on a specially-designed breathing apparatus, which not only provided air, but also allowed for the sensors to check her expelled breath for any contaminants. Depending on what was detected, medicinal gases could be added to the air to handle that. Once she had the breathing apparatus on, the air was replaced with argon gas, and the air checked and cleansed. Rotating overhead shower-head like jets, and similar devices at mid-level and low level came on, spraying on an antibiotic solution which supposedly killed contaminants on her skin. Abuna had to hold up her bushy black hair to make sure that it did not block the sticky gel from reaching all parts of her skin. When the jets shut off, she was supposed to look at herself, and see if the gel was properly applied. If she saw any part of her body that was not glistening, she had to spread the gel to those areas. Nice floor-length mirrors were provided so that she could see her back. Abuna had been worried that being on a starship for a year or so with little physical work to do would cause her waistline to expand, yet she saw herself as quite trim when looking in that mirror. Maybe that was why the mess hall served the food that it did. Those people made sure she did not add on any extra and unwanted weight.
Satisfied that her body was glistening with the gel, Abuna next donned a pair of protective eye covers, and reached out to touch a square on a panel in front of her. That caused beams of radiation, infrared and ultraviolet and others, to flash over her, reacting with the gel to destroy any contaminants on her skin. Once the system beeped to indicate that the irradiation phase was over, she took off the eye protection and had the argon removed and replaced with fresh air. That allowed her to take off the breathing apparatus. She switched the booth over to a conventional shower. Water came down from multiple directions, and dispensers made soap and shampoo available. She was able to take a comforting, warm shower and thoroughly clean herself of the gel and the grit and dirt that had accumulated. The water ran down the drain, carrying the gel with it. Sensors in the water purification system scanned that waste water and the gel to determine what kind of bacteria and other contaminants had been removed. Once the water stopped and the heated blowers dried her off, she was able to take one last look in the mirror. She had "decontamination hair," as it was all messy and in desperate need of being combed. It was also why most people in space had short hair, as even shoulder-length hair became hard to manage after being in a decontamination chamber. At least, she thought, whatever they had picked up on the surface would be off of them, unless it got into their system. A quick trip to sickbay would soon determine that.
With a fresh uniform made available in another slot, Abuna dressed, and stepped out of the chamber. During their time in the booths, the air in the room had been removed and replaced with clean air. It seemed cool, especially since her body was still a little damp. Weisser was already waiting for her, and said, "Somehow, my experience in space can do without that."
"Agreed," Abuna replied. She did not to look in the mirror to see what her hair looked like. Weisser was following Starfleet officers' etiquette and not mentioning it. "I just hope this sort of thing doesn't become routine at Rigel, but you saw what happened down there. You don't want that on the ship."
"Or taken back to Earth."
"I know."
Once the other two left their booths, the four of them were able to leave the decontamination chamber and head to their next stop, sickbay.
* * *
Several hours later, Hall met with Abuna in the situation room. On the display panel was a view of the city that the shuttle had landed in, as seen from orbit with a high-resolution imaging system. Looking up at his first officer, Hall asked, "Now what? What do we do?"
Abuna was momentarily surprised that she was being asked this question, although she had to recall that one of the purposes of the first officer was to provide ideas and to be a sounding board for the captain's ideas. She was the former right now, but she did not feel adequate in the role. "I don't know," she answered. "This planet clearly has no connection to the race that the woman belongs to. I don't know why she came here, and why it looks like her journey originated here. If only we could talk to her."
"I know," Hall remarked. "If she was healthy, we could attempt to mutually teach each other our languages, or communicate through the Preserver code, if she has that ability, but right now, she's drifting in and out of consciousness. Are were going to keep her on board indefinitely?"
"Unless we do something for her, she's not going to survive much longer."
"I know," the captain remarked. He was about to continue when the intercom beeped. The display indicated that the call was coming from sickbay. Tapping the "receive" button, he said, "Hall here."
"Sir," started Torres. "We've completed the tests on the blood samples from the landing party. They all come back negative. There's nothing in their blood that should not be there, and certainly nothing like the antibodies and strange cells in the blood of the woman. I also tested myself and others who have been in extensive contact with the patient. Nobody has anything in their system that should not be there."
"I see."
"In short, whatever disease affected the woman and wiped out the population of this planet--if they are even the same thing--has no effect on us."
"That's good to know," Hall remarked.
"At least I feel a little relieved," Abuna remarked. "As soon as we assumed the correlation... I was rather upset, concerned. If this alien disease does not affect us, then perhaps we can explore this planet a little more."
"Perhaps another time, commander. Remember, we still have a mission to Rigel, and this side trip has already taken ten days away from that mission. We should continue on our journey..."
Part 1,Part 2,Part 3,Part 4,Part 5,Part 6,Part 7,Part 8,Part 9,Part 10,Part 11,Part 12,Part 13,Part 14
"Flag At the Edge of Space" page, Athena Home Page, Other Stories Home Page.
