Relics - Michael Jan Friedman [4]
The engineer nodded. “And I think I’ve pinpointed the source of it.”
“Can you give me a visual?” asked the captain.
Sachs consulted his monitors. “Yes,” he said. “I believe I can.”
A moment later, the image on the viewscreen changed from that of a gently flowing river of stars to something a good deal more ominous. What Armstrong and his engineers saw was a dark, featureless ball, one that would have been difficult indeed to discern with the naked eye if not for the stars it displaced. It almost completely filled the dimensions of the screen.
Now it was the captain’s turn to be annoyed. “I didn’t ask for maximum magnification, Ben. Don’t anticipate.”
Sachs turned to him, his heavy brows raised in indignant response. “I didn’t, sir. This is the lowest magnification setting we’ve got.”
The lowest… ? But for the sphere to fill the viewscreen at that kind of distance…!
“My god,” said Armstrong. “Is that thing as big as I think it is?”
The engineering chief nodded soberly. “Nearly the size of Earth’s orbit around Sol.”
The captain was in awe as he took a couple of steps toward the screen. It wasn’t listed on any of his navigational charts.
Suddenly, a grin crossed his face. It had been a long time since he’d grinned this way; it felt strange and wonderful.
“Any idea what it is, Captain?” asked Sachs.
“None,” said Armstrong. But inwardly, he knew exactly what it was …
His ticket to a real command.
As the turbolift doors opened, Scott got a view of the Jenolen’s operations center. Strangely, everyone seemed to be standing around, staring open-mouthed at the viewscreen.
“Remember,” Ensign Franklin whispered. “I tried to talk you out of it.”
“That you did,” agreed the older man. But he was already craning his neck to see what everyone was so fascinated by.
It was a perfect ball hanging in space. Not a planet, but something artificial. Walking over to the nearest unoccupied engineering console, he activated it.
And saw what had the crew so intrigued. According to the numbers displayed alongside the sphere’s digitized image in tire console, the bloody thing was twice the size of the Sol system-and then some.
“Composition?” asked Captain Armstrong, a stocky fellow who had greeted Scott personally when the older man boarded the ship. Armstrong hadn’t seemed to like his job very much-until now.
“Carbon-neutronium,” responded Sachs, the engineer. “That means our sensors can’t penetrate the surface. Too bad.” He straightened to his full height, which made him nearly a head taller than the captain. “It would have been nice to know what’s going on in there.”
Armstrong frowned thoughtfully. “Then let’s survey what’s on the outside as closely as possible. And before we’re done, if we’re lucky, we’ll at least be able to venture a guess as to what’s inside.”
“Aye,” said Scott. “Though ye’ll want to approach ‘er with caution, lad. Ye never know what her makers might’ve had up their sleeves.”
The captain must not have known Scott was there until he spoke-because when he turned to face the older man, he seemed surprised by his presence. Immediately, his eyes sought Franklin, who just shrugged helplessly.
Finding Scott again, he said “To what do I owe the pleasure, Captain?”
In other words, thought Scott, what the devil are you doing here? He put on his most casual air.
“I thought ye might need my help,” he replied plainly. And then, with a gesture to the viewscreen “And now I’m sure of it.”
Armstrong’s gaze locked onto Scott’s. ” We can handle ourselves just fine,” said the captain. “As Mr. Franklin no doubt informed you.”
“Aye,” said the older man. “He informed me, all right. But that was before ye ran into a Dyson Sphere.”
That got Armstrong’s attention. “A Dy … I beg your pardon?”
“A Dyson Sphere,” Scott repeated. And in fifty words or less, he described the theory behind such a construct. “O’ course,” he finished, “I cannae guarantee it’s what I think it is. But it’s certainly got all the earmarks of it.”
“I see,” said the captain. He glanced at Lieutenant Sachs. “You’re familiar with such a thing?