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Atlantic in Shadow
by Benjamin Farthing
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The following is an excerpt from Atlantic in Shadow. “Sir,” interrupted Alphie, “we’ve received a transmission, dated today, timed ninety-four hundred.” “What colony uses that time system?” “None in the database, sir. However it seems to align with Earth time thirteen hundred.” John checked his watch. 13:03. “I told you not to trust machines,” said Tika. “There’s no way another Explorer could have gotten a message here so fast.” “Alphie, play message.” Alphie opened his mouth but kept it still. The voice that proceeded slid over the android’s pseudoplastic lips, filling the room like a fog. “Slik fathol vihn elluj u jid ruhz.” John started toward the cockpit. He felt his heart pounding in his fingertips. “Alphie, follow.” Tika hurried behind the android. “Dad, it’s probably just another Explorer playing a joke. Andrew has been threatening to do just that.” “The Consul would court marshal and excommunicate anyone who did that. Even your gorgeous Andrew. Alphie, identify language of previous transmission.” “Unknown, sir.” “Can you translate?” “Calculating most likely meaning currently. Will be complete in forty-three seconds.” “It’s just one of the other Explorers speaking gibberish.” “For once just shut up! Aren’t you always saying the simplest explanation is most often true? Open your mind up you stubborn little girl!” Tika bit her lip, glared. She ran back down the corridor. John shook his head and entered the cockpit. Through the view screen loomed a ship a dozen times the size of the Atlantic. Its sides rolled in places and broke into jagged edges in others, as if formed by flowing water. Amidst shadows something darted along the sides, but when John focused on the movement he saw nothing. “This she-wolf is a gift for my kinsman.” The sounds came from Alphie’s mouth, but the words seemed to come from the ship in front of them. “What does that mean?” “I cannot identify meaning, only terminology.” “Alphie, identify neighboring craft.” “Unknown, sir.” “Report any known facts about craft.” Another shadow danced just out of view. “Unable to connect with central databases.” “What? Why?” “Error at ship end, not android end.” John thought he noticed a shadow fly away from the strange ship. Unnerved, he checked the airlocks, then cursed himself a fool. If something had breached the airlocks, the alarms would be blaring. “Hell of a time for a malfunction. Alphie, repeat message back to craft.” “Unable to connect with ship computer.” “Can you connect manually?” “Yes sir.” “Then do it!” Alphie plugged into the terminal. “Dad?” Tika’s voice came through the intercom system. “The lights just cut off down here. I think there’s something moving around in the airlock.” “Tika, I want you up here.” Alphie spoke. “Unable to send message. Transmitter error.” “Tika?” “I can fix the transmitter, Dad.” The transmitter was between Tika’s quarters and the airlock. The ship was supposed to be secure, but John wasn’t taking anything for granted. This was his daughter. “STOP!” he shouted into the transmitter. “Dad?” Her voice wavered. “Come here. Now. Run.” He paused only a moment, and then sprinted out of the cockpit. The corridor declared normalcy, but something felt wrong. Tika ran into view from around the corner. She slowed when she saw him. “Keep running,” he urged, out of breath. John grabbed her arm and pulled her back up the hallway. He strained to hear over the thudding of their boots, not sure what he was listening for. Images of cold mandibles grabbing him from behind, or worse, snatching away Tika, insistently clawed at his mind. Then they reentered the cockpit and he closed the door behind them. He wrapped his arms around his daughter. “You’re okay. We’re okay now.” Tika pulled away and swiped her bangs out of her face. John noticed her expression of fear pushed aside like the unruly hair. “What’s wrong with Alphie?” She quickly busied herself examining the android, not noticing the imposing hulk on the view screen. John stepped toward the picture. The ship ahead floated still, but something still danced in the crevices. John leaned in closer to the view window. Darkness swirled, drawing him toward it. Idly, he wondered how Tika would feel about dawning their suits and exploring the landscape of the new craft. Actually, the suits would only get in the way. “Dad?” He should just leave her behind. This discovery should belong only to him. Why share it? It might be nice to never tell anyone. Just drift over and spend an eternity— “Dad!” John jerked away. “What is that, Dad?” Her worried expression was highlighted by her bangs dangling back in her face. She looked like she had as a toddler, crying after a nightmare. Her mother had been better at handling those situations. “The sender of the message, presumably. This she-wolf is a gift for my kinsman.” “What is that supposed to mean?” Alphie spoke again. “Power failure in second level.” Tika stared at the ship. “Did it send the message, or is it the wolf? Alphie, give the five next likely translations for ‘she-wolf.’” “Dingo, silent, scavenger, death, and ‘one with fangs.’” “Alphie,” said John, “lock all doors between cockpit and second level.” “Did you respond?” asked Tika. “I tried to play the message back to them.” Tika turned to him. “But you don’t even know what it means. What if it was establishing dominance? You might have just issued a challenge.” A deep, resounding cry echoed through the Atlantic. The cockpit shook. “Identify source of noise,” said Tika. “Two-hundred yards in front of the Atlantic, sir.” “Noise can’t travel through space.” “Alphie,” asked John, “are all of your systems functioning normally?” Excerpt from Atlantic in Shadow © Copyright 2009, Benjamin Farthing
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© Copyright 2010, Zefram Media LLC |
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