Progenitor - Michael Jan Friedman [48]
Wu bit her lip. Was it possible that the vessel had already blown up? Or been vaporized?
“There’s a reason for that,” said Kastiigan.
He was standing at the tiny science station aft of the captain’s chair, his jowly face caught in the crawl of a moving graphic. Apparently, he had joined his colleagues on the bridge without Wu’s noticing it.
“A reason?” she prodded.
“Yes,” said the science officer. “According to my readings, only a portion of the Belladonna exists within the accretion bridge. The rest... does not.”
“You mean she’s been ripped apart?” the commander asked, trying to get a handle on the situation.
“No,” said Kastiigan. “There’s no indication that the Belladonna has sustained that sort of damage. Her sensor profile just seems to go so far and no farther.”
“Where is she?” Wu demanded. “I want to see her for myself.”
“I’ll relay the coordinates to Lieutenant Asmund’s station,” the Kandilkari said obligingly.
A moment later, Wu saw what Kastiigan was talking about. The Stargazer’s sensors were picking up a fragment of what might have been a Federation research ship. But it showed no signs of the carbonization or twisted metal that would have resulted from a hull-rending decompression.
It was just as the science officer had said—the Belladonna simply wasn’t all there.
Wu shook her head. It didn’t make sense. She was tempted to say so until she remembered something—that she was the one in charge of the ship at the moment. She had to keep her head if she expected her subordinates to do so.
“Good work,” she told Kastiigan.
“Thank you,” he responded.
The second officer stared at Gerda’s monitor, coming up with question after question for which she had no ready answers. For instance, how had a piece of the Belladonna wound up in the accretion bridge? And what had happened to the rest of the ship?
Then she got something new—an answer for which she had no question. “Commander,” said Gerda, “we’re detecting life signs.”
Wu watched as Gerda magnified the surviving portion of the research ship on her monitor. It was covered with red blips, each of them representing a viable, functioning life-form.
Without question, there were living beings aboard—humanoid, judging from their biochemical makeup. But how could that be? This was only a section of the Belladonna.
Or was it?
“Commander,” said Idun, her voice taut with concern, “we’re being drawn in the direction of the accretion bridge.”
The second officer eyed the viewscreen and saw a confirmation of what Idun had told her. The accretion bridge was growing larger at a slow but noticeable rate.
Wu didn’t get it. Accretion bridges didn’t have enough mass to generate gravitic forces. So what in the name of Zefram Cochrane was tugging at them?
As calmly as she could, she made her way to the helm. “Reverse engines,” she said. “Full power.”
Idun carried out the command. For a tense moment or two, it wasn’t clear whether she would win the battle or not. Then she turned to Wu and reported that the Stargazer was moving backward, returning to her original position.
Indeed, the commander could see it on the screen. The accretion bridge was gradually diminishing in size.
“Maintain thrusters,” Wu told her, “until we’re two thousand kilometers from the accretion bridge.”
“Aye, Commander,” said the helm officer, and they continued to retreat from the phenomenon.
Wu returned to her seat and regarded the image on the viewscreen. She no longer wondered how the Belladonna had wound up in the accretion bridge. Obviously, it had succumbed to the forces the Stargazer had just managed to overcome.
But where in blazes were those forces coming from? She couldn’t say—just as she couldn’t say how all those people had survived on a mere piece of a ship, or how it had become merely a piece of a ship in the first place.
Maybe the Belladonna’s crew could tell her. “Hail them,” the commander told Paxton.
The comm officer did as she asked. But after a moment, he said,