Guardship: VII Gemina
On rest station in trojan L5 off P. Jaksonica 3
11/23 shipsyear 3681; year 43 of the Deified Kole
Marmigus
Dictats: The Deified Ansehl Ronygos, dct 12
WarAvocat Hanaver Strate, dct. 1
Alert status: Green Three
WarCrew sleeping [.03 duty section]
Surveillance Mode: Passive
All was quiet in Hall of the Watchers. The whisper of electronics was soporific. Watchers struggled to stay awake. Third WatchMaster roamed silently, tapping shoulders with an ivory baton.
His admonitions were not vigorous. WarAvocat had not yet left his quarters. He might not. He was preoccupied with a new dalliance.
None of the Deified observed from their screens.
It had been this quiet for a shipsyear.
A ping! wakened everyone. Third WatchMaster tried to stroll toward the sound’s source. His legs betrayed him.
It was that kind of time. Any trivial break in routine caused quickened breathing.
The Deified Thalygos Mundt came onscreen, his expression malign as always. Third WatchMaster asked, “What do we have, Break Detect?”
“Traveler breaking off the Web, WatchMaster.”
Third WatchMaster looked to the head of the Hall. The appropriate displays were up. The routine challenge had pulsed out. He glanced up. The Deified Thalygos Mundt had gone.
What was it like, being a living part of the ship? It was a vagrant curiosity. He was young yet. Only the old entertained ambitions toward immortality.
The backfeed from the breakaway appeared on the wall, downsped pulse content running from right to left: Glorious Spent, House Cholot, bound from V. Rothica to D. Vawnii via P. Jaksonica: general cargo and passengers. Cargo and passenger transhipments scheduled at P. Jaksonica 3B, data follows.
Routine. A passenger list, in case one was wanted and stupid enough to travel without changing identity.
“WatchMaster! I have an emergency signal!”
“Bring it up audial. Alert, Yellow Three.” All over the Guardship green lights went yellow, blinking.
The message: “... Gemina, we’ve had an unauthorized discharge of an emergency escape pod....”
Third WatchMaster snapped, “Alert, Yellow One! Page WarAvocat. Relay the incoming to appropriate divisions.”
“... not yet know if anyone was aboard....”
“Search. Find that pod.”
“We have it, WatchMaster.”
“Lock on. Track and Probe.” Conscious of the screens overhead, he barked, “Get the data on the wall. I want everything up when WarAvocat arrives.”
Throughout VII Gemina the shift prepared for whatever demands might be placed on the Guardship.
“WatchMaster. We have Lock and Track. That pod is under control. Trajectory indicates a surface destination near Cholot Varagona.”
Was there another city on P. Jaksonica 3? “Probe data?”
“None yet, WatchMaster.”
“Feed the target data to WarCentral. Pulse Canon Garrison Varagona. Prepare to intercept illegal downbound.”
Half the overhead screens were live now but the Deified remained silent. Still, he felt compelled to demonstrate his grip. “Probe? How long is it going to take?”
“First approximation is due up, WatchMaster.... Here it comes. One biological lifeform. Artifact or nonhuman.”
Third WatchMaster hesitated. He did not want the disapprobation that would follow an order to waken the whole Guardship. “Alert, Red Three.” He slapped his baton into his palm, repeated it more forcefully.
Alarms snarled. Decks and bulkheads shivered. The air whispered and murmured and became cooler as inertial sectors locking-in distressed peacetime flow patterns. Already dim lighting faded as power shunted to battle screen generators. Sound levels rose as normally silent Watchers ran verbal checks with their neighbors.
Then came a bone-vibrating grumble as starspace drives went on line and Web tractor wells lit off.
Third WatchMaster sighed, ran a hand through brown hair, adjusted his khaki OpsCrew uniform. He had reached the limit of his authority.
The wall began running information from the Cholot Traveler’s report of conditions on the Web. The data proclaimed a routine passage.
WarAvocat Hanaver Strate, Dictat, immaculate in WarCrew black and silver, entered Hall of the Watchers.