ENIGMA: COSMIC ODESSEY
By
GERARD WHITTAKER
Enigma: COSMIC ODESSEY
By Gerard Whittaker
Smashwords edition.
Copyright by Gerard Whittaker, 2010
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Prologue
The Enigma skimmed over the South Atlantic at over two hundred knots, flying at her ceiling of sixty meters. The black manta shaped craft was too low to detect on radar, even if her slick hull of Carbon 60 composites would register.
The wedge of Tierra del Fuego could be seen jutting from the southernmost tip of South America, separated from the continent by the Magellan's straits, and tipped by Cape Horn. It was a frozen hell compared to the lush North; with wind swept trees and frosted grass. Just the place to build something secret with labour who would not need paying, or even a return ticket.
High cliffs on three sides protected the station, until the wind dropped enough to permit launches. Large hangars and buildings clung to the cliffs, sheltering from the near arctic winds.
"I don't see anything Captain," Erin reported. "I've scanned every foot of the place."
"Switch to infrared," Hugh suggested. "Most ICBM sites aren't known for advertising."
"Don't bother," Major Crowley dismissed the need. "Do you see a road leading from the station to nowhere?"
"That's it?" Erin asked.
"Right at the end of the road."
"Appropriate, somehow," Miles mused. "Okay Erin, that's Ground Zero."
"Range one hundred and fifty Ks," Pelle reported.
"This'll do, I want to be deep when it goes off. Con, take us down."
"Ten minutes to launch," Erin reported. "I'll hand over to weapons once it's programmed."
"Yes dear," Miles said softly.
The Enigma touched down on her skids, and slid below the waves.
"Should we warn them Captain?" Hugh asked.
"We'll only take out the silos; civilian casualties will be minimal."
"Captain," Pelle yelled, "the bogey's back!"
Far off a strange pulsating light could be seen throbbing ruddily.
"What the hell is that?" Crawley cried.
"A genuine USO," Hugh replied softly. "You can't see them from normal subs."
"It's a Harbinger warning us..."
"Possibly," Miles agreed, "but if so a simple call would suffice; we really don't need distracting right now."
"Programming complete," Erin said softly, "Weapons, you have control."
"I have control."
"Captain," Hugh gasped, "on the screen, the blast covers are pulling back!"
"Con, surface. Weapons, prepare to fire."
The screen revealed several six-foot thick portals being wound back, and the mist of frozen propellant as the Scalpels were raised into launching position. Then one silo exploded as a missile leapt for the sky.
"One missile launched Captain," Erin gasped. "More being prepared..."
"Interception?"
"Negative," Weapons replied. "We're too late."
"Surface Captain," Gwen snapped, "handing Con over to Weapons."
"I have control." Jock snapped. "Raising launcher. Systems diagnostic, A-okay. Ready to launch Captain."
"May God forgive me... Fire!"
The AGM 129 Cruise missile blasted from the launcher, ditched the solid rocket booster, kicked in the jets, unfolded narrow wings and flew off into the dusk.
"Launch confirmed Captain," Jock sighed. "Handing Con back."
"I have Con," Gwen confirmed.
"Track the ICBM Erin."
"London Captain."
"Estimate yield?"
"SS24 Scalpel, multiple warheads of one hundred K."
"Each far larger our Cruise," Miles mused. "Major Crowley, can you help?"
"Plug me in to the Pentagon and I'll try, but no promises."
"Good enough."
The pulsing bogie look saddened, the ripples changed colour and tempo.
"Con take us down,"
"Incoming Captain," Pelle said sharply. "Missile, impact one minute."
"Crash dive!"
The Enigma scooted for the depths, but was too close the continental shelf to find deep water.
"We're in trouble," Erin gasped, "SS-4 Sandal single stage ballistic- a Nuke."
A cosmic fireball lit up Tierra del Fuego, vaporising the Silos, a scorching wind blasted over the town and far out to sea. The cyclone caught the Sandal and tossed it around in pieces- that rained down to sea.
"It's gone," Erin sighed with incredulity. "I don't believe..."
A chunk of debris landed not far away, settling to the bottom in slow motion.
"Oh no," Erin gasped in horror, "it can't be..."
The bogey took off like a silver salmon, streaking towards the Enigma with impossible speed.
The wreckage touched bottom, the world seemed to wait with baited breath... Then the sun dawned underwater for one brief second, and a tidal wave of superheated steam exploded out towards the Enigma with incredible force.
Erin had barely time to share one last glance with Hugh, cramming a lifetime's love into a split second- then the blast tore the Enigma from the seabed, and away into oblivion.
The Sagittar
Far over the Earth a curious structure floated silently in space: a long tube was surrounded by a circular lattice and a dozen large fuel cells; three habitation modules rested at one end; powered by both immense solar wings and a fusion power plant, she was the ultimate in defence.
Seven USAF astronauts floated in the comcen, drifting from instrument banks to the port. "Sagittar to SAC," One woman snapped. "Sagittar to SAC, come in please; over."
"What's up Sharon?" a voice replied over the speaker.
"Trouble, so listen and pass it on pronto. Nuclear explosions near Tierra del Fuego, and a missile heading towards Britain; do we have authorisation to intercept? Over."
"Plot it and I'll get back; over and out."
"We haven't time for this bullshit," she cried.
Washington
"Mister President," the Secretary of Defence shouted across the oval office, "launch confirmed; will you authorise Sagittar to shoot it down?"
"Will it work? I'll not risk starting a war over a failure."
"Just give the damn order, or I'll do it myself!"
"Oh, very well, but you know the..."
"You have clearance Sagittar, fire at will."
Sagittar
"We have clearance to fire Captain," Sharon snapped.
"Systems check?"
"All systems on line, we're ready for launch."
"Fire at will."
Far below the railgun, the Scalpel missile tore upwards through the thinning atmosphere, heading for space, dropping the first stage as the second took over.
"We have a lock," Sharon laughed.
"Firing now!"
The large magnets that encased the railgun created a massive electro magnetic field through switching off and on, running on half a million amperes per shot. A simple slug of steel was fed through the breech and into the chamber, then it simply vanished down the two hundred yard long rail; exploding from the other end at nearly a hundred thousand Gs. At nearly fifty miles a second the slug tore towards the Scalpel, glowing as it entered the tenuous atmosphere, but deep within a tiny crack was rent apart by the un-natural forces - and it exploded into a million sparks...
"The damn thing didn't work," Sharon gasped.
"Reload," the Captain snapped. "Targeting, maintain the lock."
The Scalpel reached space, and swung around on a short arc, before falling back to Earth.
"Ready Captain."
"Fire!" he snapped.
The second shot simply tore itself apart on leaving the barrel, blasting ferrous dust across half the planet.
Far below the Scalpel started to glow on re-entry.
"Reload and fire," the desperate Captain gasped. "Surely one of the blasted things will work..."
The railgun fired a third time, and the slug flashed across space, to pass within a few meters of the Scalpel.
"Auto fire," the Captain snapped. "Let's burn the rail out!"
The Scalpel was glowing as the nose cone blew apart, revealing twelve streamlined re-entry vehicles.
A torrent of slugs flashed across space, heading for the Scalpel, leaving glowing streaks across the heavens; several slightly imperfect ones were cracked by the impossible velocity, and exploded, but more survived to hunt the missile.
"Keep a lock on," the Captain gasped. "We have to do it..."
Finally one slug tore through the missile, sending it spinning through the blazing air.
"We got it," Sharon screamed in glee.
But as the Scalpel was ripped apart, the RVs began to scatter and fall free...
"No!" the Captain yelled. "Keep it up, we could still hit a few."
As the RVs began to fall towards Britain, they were passed by shooting stars that struck the ground with the power of tactical nukes; there was no radiation, just massive explosions that left kilometre wide craters across the land. When the tumbling RVs scattered from Scotland to Cornwall, Ireland to the English Channel, it was almost an anticlimax.
Burtonwood.
General Muller stood outside his quarters with his family running the farewell barbecue. Troop transporters were heading towards the fleet of C130 and Galaxy cargo planes, commencing the final evacuation. The squadrons of F22 Raptors, F35 Lightnings and A10 Thunderbolts were powering up for the evacuation.
With a screech of burning rubber a Hummer roared around the block, and skidded to a halt by the low fence; an Air force Major sprinted from the car. "General Muller," he snapped in near panic, "we've just had confirmation of the employment of nukes in the South Atlantic. We're also tracking a missile heading this way. The evacuation is now sir."
Margaret sank into her husband's arms, sobbing in horror.
"You lot," he snapped to his family, "drop everything and get in the Hummer.
The Hummer sped for the airfield and stopped next to an Osprey, allowing the passengers to rush aboard the plane.
The air shook as whole squadrons took to the skies, one after another; fighters, ground attack planes, and lumbering cargo planes, all clambered for altitude in blind panic as death started to rain from the heavens.
Sally looked from the port, as glowing streaks fell from space; her face ashen. "That's..."
"The end of the war," Muller cried.
Sally sobbed, "And we lost."
"No," Margaret snapped in dread rage, "we all lost..."
Far behind the refugees a dozen suns began to glow. The re-entry vehicles weren't very accurate, being thirty year old ex Soviet stock bought on the global Black Market, it was a miracle the missile hadn't exploded on launch. Ground Zero was London, but the RVs scattered across the British Isles at random. The once United
Kingdom was re-united in hell!
PART TWO
ENIGMA: COSMIC ODESSEY
CHAPTER ONE
KANSAS?
The blast caught the Enigma with irresistible force, thrusting her through monumental shock waves like a balloon in a hurricane- and stopped dead. It was gone as though it had never been...
Erin opened her eyes to see water lapping against the Eye that should have ceased to exist. "We're dead," she almost laughed, "we must be."
"Then why does my neck hurt?" Miles complained.
"I didn't say we were in heaven."
"Oh... Right," he sighed. "Systems check, just in case we run into any little devils."
"Port wing hanging limp Captain," Basil replied from the engineering console. "Minor internal damage, other than that we're functional."
"But no more flying," Miles sighed.
"We came so close to flying with the trumpet and harp brigade," Hugh chuckled, "I'll not complain."
"Yes, there is that. Erin, please put an old man's mind at ease- where the hell are we?"
"Close to our last location Captain, Tierra del Fugeo of course."
"Where did you expect," Hugh chuckled, "Alpha Centuri?"
"It'd make as much sense as our being here. Did that bomb go off or not?"
"Yes Captain," Erin replied crisply, "the Nuke did explode."
"Then why are we still hurting?"
"Unknown."
"Captain," Crowley moaned, "you're set's out as well, I can't reach Washington."
"That's impossible," Erin gasped, "I can still reach the satellites."
"Plug back into that last spy-sat," Miles ordered, ”I want a bird's eye view."
"Coming up, wait, the codes have been changed; compensating, now..."
The screen showed Tierra del Fuego, but there was no crater where the Cruise missile exploded.
"So we missed, track north."
"Buenos Aires is gone," Hugh gasped. "Just vanished."
"Captain, I'm picking up unusual levels of radiation," Erin cried.
"I'm not surprised," Miles said dryly.
"No, it's not like that; it's not lethal, just- strange..." she finished weakly.
"The cities," Crowley gasped in anguish," they're gone, all of them."
They looked down on a continent where each city was marked by a black tombstone a mile wide.
The world, as they knew it, was gone- not a city survived anywhere on the globe.
"We did it," Erin gasped in hopeless shock, "we destroyed the world. We started World War Three."
"That'd take more than a few minutes," Crawley pointed out. No, something else happened, we've got to find out what."
"I've a contact off the port bow," Pelle called out. "Wreckage of some kind."
A mass of crystalline detritus floated not far off, scored by a terrible heat.
"The Bogie," Erin gasped.
"Number One, assemble a rescue team. You're going in."
"Me!"
"And me," Erin volunteered. "You'll need someone with brains."
"I'll answer that in my own good time," he warned her.
"Good, it'll give you time to think up a witty repose."
Miles turned away to hide his grin, it was unseemly to be seen laughing at his first mate. But he longed for the repose, God, she'd earned it.
Hugh, Erin and Harris swam up through the wreckage, easing their diving gear past each obstacle with care. Twisted spars and jagged bulkheads half covered several hatches, and one side of the Bogie was sheered off as though by a cosmic knife. Only one thing was certain, the wreck was at least five times as big as the Enigma, but they had no idea how big the ship had been before the disaster.
They finally broke surface in an octagonal chamber resembling the Enigma's engine-room. The bulkheads were of a smooth crystalline substance that showed no joints or seams; the walls were a relaxing green, deck brown and a diffuse yellow illumination came from the light blue ceiling. Angular words were stencilled on various systems in a vaguely familiar script that left tantalising impressions buzzing just out of reach.
Erin's regulation bun hadn't survived the swim, as she slipped from her diving gear and examined the chamber, she combed her strawberry blond hair over the right side of her face; absently covering her scar right cheek.
"Okay, fusion power-plant," she pointed at each device in turn. "Drive chamber, power linkage. There's a huge power lead heading into the ship and a second one here, only looks like a retrofit."
"Hugh," Harris inquired innocently, "have you any idea what she's talking about?"
"Not the slightest old boy."
"Oh, that's all right then."
"It does her esteem the world of good to show off now and then- but we have to keep her on a tight leash most of the time."
"Quite understandable."
"If you two gentlemen would care to exercise your brain cells and figure how to open the hatch?" she snapped in anger. "Thank you."
Harris held the hatch open and waved her through, "Ladies first."
"Oh boy," she sighed. "And I never claimed to be a lady."
"Good job, what with all the trade description laws," Hugh mused.
She snapped her watch her mouth and gasped, "For Gods sake Mister Scott, beam me up!"
"Considering where we are," Hugh pointed out, "is that such a good idea? You never know, it just might happen."
She shivered slightly, and grinned. "Okay, the crew was Human, or as close to, that it's academic..."
"There she goes," Harris said in admiration, "using all those forty dollar words."
"I thought it was four dollar words?" Hugh asked.
"Inflation."
"Do you want to know where she's from?"
"Yes!" they both gasped in unison.
"Well so do I, so shut up and let me think."
"Oh..." Hugh sighed.
"I've seen several words stencilled on the walls that almost seem familiar- but none that made sense. The rest have a strange...” She shrugged, "I'll want to come back and record everything later. The ship's assembled, or rather grown, I think would be a better word, from living crystal; it's not a prototype like the Enigma, but mass produced."
"Say, she's good," Harris conceded.
Hugh took over, "But she’s been customised quite recently, that new power cable is running through here," he pointed to a door. "This may sound crazy, but could she be surplus?"
"If you're talking about a civilisation that builds these en-mass," Harris gasped, "it'd be a hundred times greater if they could afford to just let them go."
"I'm almost dreading what's behind that door," Erin warned them.
Hugh stated with a nervous laugh, "The answer is obvious- in an insane kind of way."
They opened the door to see a crystal football resting on a tubular mounting; the new power cable ran into the base. Deep within the sphere a multitude of lights flickered, almost resembling the workings of a brain.
A steel plaque was riveted to the frame, stating in clear English, 'Danger, Mark ten Jumpdrive. Do not disassemble, in case of trouble contact an authorised engineer on Æden.'
"This is how they arrived," Erin stated. "A star drive."
"It's a spaceship?" Miles gasped. "Not a sub?"
"Like the Enigma, she can do many things," Hugh explained. "The bridge is gone, but there's a lot to explore." He held up an handful of crystal strips, "We found these in a case next to the Jumpdrive, there's a slot in the casing- we think they're co-ordinates."
"Are you out of your cotton picking mind?"
"If we could just mount it..." Erin broke off.
"No way, there's not a chance in hell of the Enigma going... Is there?"
"What if we told the drive to take the Bogie somewhere?"
"She'd be easier to salvage beached," Hugh pointed out.
"A nice deserted beach, hot Sun, palm trees, cold drinks," Erin whispered enticingly. "Hawaii perhaps."
"And what happens if it blows the island into the middle of next year?" He stopped dead and gasped, "That's what happened to us, isn't it? The Bogie was fleeing the blast and was right on top of us- the Electro Magnetic Pulse from the explosion shorted out the Jumpdrive and carried us here?"
"See, it does work," Erin laughed.
They tried to explore the wreck but it was far too dangerous in the rough seas, and were restricted to the few chambers near the drive; many others were still underwater. It took a week to calculate a thousand mile Jump with the Enigma's computer; the variables had been astounding, twelve dimensional mathematics gave Erin a two-day headache. Hawaii had been ruled out as too small a target; that left America. California of course, Erin insisted they had to keep some standards.
But as the countdown neared the last few minutes she was still on the Bogie, and her father was getting increasingly worried.
"Get her out of there Number One," Miles snapped.
"Five minutes and counting," Pelle intoned as if only he had a watch.
Hugh gasped in incredulity, "You don't think?"
"You know my daughter as well as I."
"I'm going..." Hugh’s voice faded as he fled round the door.
He dived from the Enigma's deck to swim under the wreckage and up the corridor, the way was well marked and cleared of obstacles, so he entered the fusion chamber in seconds. Only to find the Jumpdrive’s hatch sealed- from the inside.
"Get out you stupid woman," he yelled in haste.
"I'm going," Erin snapped back in anger through the hatch. "I'd not miss this for, oh I don't know; I can't think of anything as exiting."
"Then let me in."
"Why?"
"Somebody has to keep you out of trouble."
"You're coming?" she cried in joy.
"Try to stop me," he dared her.
She opened the hatch and caught him in an embrace that seemed to last forever. They laughed and cried together, kissing so hard it hurt with delicious pain.
When the Jumpdrive took them on a short trip through another dimension it seemed somewhat anticlimactic: an infinitesimal feeling of wrongness, as if they'd forgotten something of no importance; a pop of displaced air; the sloshing of running water that drained the wreckage; a creaking as it settled in the sand- that was all.
"It'll take them weeks to reach us with a broken wing," Hugh warned her.
"I packed food," she smiled back.
"I'm in love with you, did you know that?"
"Yes," she replied with mischief, "I've always known that- pity it took you so long to realise it."
"I'm too old, getting on towards forty."
"You're thirty five, divorced and eligible. Now shut up and kiss me again."
A wise leader knows when to take advise, and advantage.
The wreck lay high on a golden beach, a crystal arc surrounded by twisted spars and drying seaweed.
Only the haunting cries of seagulls could be heard over the rushing surf; there were no recent signs of humanity, just the rotting detritus of a dead civilisation. Unknown miles down the shore a rusting super-tanker lay beached on the soft sand, it was now home to whole colonies of sea birds.
Hand in hand, Erin and Hugh walked the beach for a day each way, finding only long abandoned homes and rusting cars. There was no trace of man, the streets were deathly silent. Only a few feral dogs dared voice regret- their eerie howls filed the night as the couple crouched by a campfire of driftwood.
"How long?" she asked as they stood in a dusty home, seeing scraps of rotted cloth and signs of a hasty departure.
"Ten, fifteen years- perhaps twenty," Hugh replied thoughtfully. "But no explanation, no reason. It must have been fast, if that's any consolation."
"They just left or died?" Erin replied as she examined a family portrait in a tarnished silver frame.
"They didn't come back," Hugh replied simply.
"The latter then," she sobbed and threw the frame onto a stained couch.
The stores had been looted of all canned goods, the rest had been left to rot- rusting tills held tens of thousands of brittle dollars. "That's even worse," she gasped on holding up a small fortune. "If these have been left as worthless..."
"When money isn't worth the effort to pick up, it truly is the end."
Erin closed her fist around the thick wad of brittle dollars and it crumbled to nothing- blowing away on the gentle breeze.
Racks of dusty clothing held colonies of vermin that had chewed the fabric to tatters. Only clothing stored in plastic bags had survived unscathed; they selected a few items, it was the first chance they had had to shop since the war started.
"Business looks slack," Erin commented as she slipped into a swimsuit, throwing the dirty rags of her uniform away with a sigh of relief.
"Well," Hugh said dryly, "at least we'll not have to cue for a sun-bed."
"This'd make a great health resort, guaranteed to lose you pounds."
"Sure, we'll be a lot thinner by the time we're picked up." He changed into shorts and shirt, consigning his own uniform to the bin.
Near the town's shopping precinct amidst a score of prestigious stores was a gun shop with doors blowing open in the breeze. Long abandoned cars and shopping trolleys littered the parking lot, from which half grown bushes pushed upwards through the tarmac. Almost lost among the rusted station wagons and saloons, a Roles Royce rested on rotted tyres- a baby's seat strapped to the cracked leather rear seat.
Erin forced herself to turn away from the Roles Royce, lest she start to wonder the child's fate, and followed Hugh into the gun shop.
Half the rifle racks were empty, the rest held rusted scraps of metal and wood. Hugh took a hunting rifle from the rack, only to feel the bolt rusted shut and the butt flaking with dry rot. With a wry grin he tossed the rifle away. "Why bother," he sighed, "they didn't do this world any good."
"I'm more worried about packs of feral dogs than anything else," Erin chuckled. "A pistol might be all it takes."
They checked the dusty cases, finding scores of rusted pistols, but nothing that would shoot; all had succumbed to time.
Then, as they were about to leave, Hugh noticed a pile of boxes near the door. "New stock?" he muttered in surprise.
"Relatively speaking," she chuckled and glanced at the sales docket. "If you consider twenty years new."
Several sealed cartons baring the Glock logo held polished wooden display boxes with automatics of GRP resin; cleaning kits and tools were side by side with empty magazines.
"Pay dirt," he said with a grin. "Plastic guns don't rust."
Erin rooted through the boxes, finding plenty of ammo and holsters for the Glocks; she slung a belt around her waist, and slid a Glock into the holster.
Hugh started loading magazines and slipping them into pouches on his belt next to the holster. They left the store with hold-alls full of summer clothing, ammunition, cleaning kits and spare magazines.
They walked back to the Bogie wearing beach gear and incongruous pistol belts, and tried their Glocks out- aiming at dirty plastic bottles that bobbed in the surf.
"Hugh, what happened?" she asked at last. It was a question that had hung heavily on them for days, but they hadn’t the courage to face up to the disaster- only time would help.
"Here or our Earth?"
"Did Britain die?" she sobbed.
"The USAF Sagittar railgun could have intercepted the missile, but it'd never been used for real; I'm afraid that Murphy's Law applies."
"Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong," she sobbed. "Then they're dead, they're all dead!"
"We don't know for sure." He aimed carefully a bobbing coke bottle, but missed by inches. "If it's any consolation, if this is an alternate Earth, there could be hundreds of worlds where Britain didn't die."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"This is America, right? Same culture and Dollars, right? But not our America. This one died years before our war. So it's an alternate reality."
"You're trying to say that we've lost a penny and found a pound?" she snapped. "We've lost one world and found a hundred."
"Probably much more, you're too conservative."
"But if they're all like this..."
"They won't be Erin, and if we can master the Jumpdrive?"
"We can play tourist. But they're still dead, aren't they?"
"We tried our best, and did a fine job; no one else could have done any better."
"Hold me love," she said weakly, "just hold me..."
They joined in love and desperation on a deserted beach in an empty world.
One cabin in the Bogie had survived the disaster, it even had running water and light due to some unknown system redundancy; it became their home for several weeks while they catalogued the wreck and tried to extrapolate a plan of the whole ship. There was a lot to learn but little to guide them as they struggled with a technology far ahead of anything they could imagine. The ship was elegant and simple, there was nothing that could fail or brake. The only thing out of place was the Jumpdrive, it did not belong. Although at first glance the Jumpdrive resembled the Bogie's technology, it was subtly different, somehow more refined and yet basic- the English script was only an indication of an even more alien origin.
As the plan took shape, Hugh noticed a discrepancy, a blank area just over the drive chamber. He quartered the area, above and below, but could not find a way in; then he saw a vague outline marked in dust, and called out, "Erin, I need you."
She came running as Hugh tried to force a crystalline panel free. "What's up?"
"I was tracing a subsystem back to the missing computer, hoping to find a backup, when I noticed this panel- here, take a peek."
She squirmed beneath two engineering work-stations and saw a gap between the panel and the doorframe it had been hiding. "Another chamber," she laughed. "It's been sealed for ages."
"Probably just junk," he grinned.
"Compared to the rest of this ship, their junk is probably all we can understand. Come on, let’s get it open."
The panel hid a gap between equipment racks and a workbench, it took all their effort to unbolt and drag them free, but as the panel was slid aside it did reveal a normal ship’s hatch.
"Storeroom," Hugh guessed.
"Then why the panel? It was hidden on purpose, but not very well."
"Judging by the dust it's been years, and it did take an A-bomb to reveal it," he laughed.
"Okay, improvised but efficient concealment- there, satisfied?"
The door opened to touch, revealing shelves of supplies and a stand holding eight long black oval cylinders, about seven feet long.
"Pay dirt," Erin laughed.
"There's enough here to keep us busy all week," Hugh chuckled as he examined racks of sealed packets.
"No emergency rations?" she asked hopefully.
"No such luck," he smiled sadly. "What about the cylinders, weapons?"
"In a workshop storeroom?" she scoffed.
They hosted one free, surprised how light it was once they got it moving; the top had a transparent oval near one end.
"I've a bad feeling about this," Erin sighed as she wiped off a thick layer of dust.
Hugh said, "I've just remembered what they remind me of..." he stopped as Erin stumbled back in horror. "Coffins."
An ancient mummified face stared at them through the oval screen, bony hands clawing at glass from the inside.
"I'll bet he didn't like the accommodation," Hugh sighed as he held Erin tightly.
"We've six live ones," Erin mused, "or at least not yet deceased. One empty, but the first casket was dead, life-support failure."
Four men and two women stared blankly from the caskets' ports, all attractive and frozen in an eternal instant.
Erin mused, "They're not frozen, some kind of molecular stasis."
"We have to revive one," he beamed eagerly, "if we can. Just think of how much we could learn."
"We could fail," she reminded him, "it might not be as simple as flicking a switch."
"Or we could wake one who didn't want us bothering him, and had the ability to stop us."
"So we pick the least threatening and valuable- someone expendable." She turned to the cylinder from which a petite girl peered fearfully out with sightless blue eyes. "Her."
"We could kill her."
"I'm just being practical, besides..." Erin pressed a green switch on the console, "I want to meet her."
The front panel split around the view port and down the length of the casket- the leaves opened wide as the monitor lights went dead.
"Is she...?” Erin smiled as a gentle sobbing issued from the casket.
The girl sat up, her face tear streaked and hopeless; she froze on seeing them smiling at her.
"Come child," Erin said softly, holding out her hand.
The girl rose and walked nervously towards them, oblivious to her nudity, and knelt in front of Erin; bowing she kissed the proffered hand.
"She's been hurt bad," Hugh growled in anger, "her back's covered in bruises."
Erin bent to kiss the girl's forehead, and stroked the short blond hair. "You'll not be hurt again," she whispered sincerely.
Hugh slipped his left arm around Erin, hugging her gently as they examined the stranger. She had a bewitching face and smooth skin of near alabaster perfection, small pert breasts and a slender figure. Her rich flaxen hair was combed straight and cut short just below the ears, and a bar-code was tattooed over her right eyebrow. She knelt without modesty, revealing she had no pubic hair. Although tiny and young she was far from innocent, her eyes smouldered with more than fear...
"Here comes trouble," Hugh chuckled as he hugged Erin.
Fear turned to confusion on the girl's transparent face, she rose to kneel in front of Hugh and reached for his hand so she could kiss it also. But he only smiled and lifted her up. The confusion turned to despair at his denial.
"Take her Hugh, she's terrified of rejection, she wants to belong to us."
"But, are you sure?"
"Trust me, I've been there; it's the only thing we can do."
Hugh turned back to the girl and held out his hand and she kissed it sobbing with joy. Her face lit with delight and was far more than just pretty, she was a work of art.
"Marina?" she asked, pointing at herself.
"What?"
"She's asking if she can keep her name. Yes, Marina," Erin said firmly. "Hugh, Erin; understand?"
"Hugh, Erin," she bowed to them in turn. "Marina." She prostrated herself before them, shaking slightly.
"Oh no child," Erin laughed, "we'll not beat you."
"Were you like this Erin, at first?"
"Nothing like as bad, but I understand how she feels. I can't remember my past- but she can't forget hers- it was only a moment ago."
"A moment, decades, a world away," Hugh mused as he helped Marina to stand, "we're getting in deep water."
"That's strong from a submariner."
"One of the benefits of experience my dear," he chuckled.
They led the strange girl around the Bogie and out onto the beach, so that she would understand the situation.
Marina turned back to see the wreckage and sank down to the sand in horror, sobbing, "Trajan, Trajan."
"The Bogie?" Hugh mused.
Erin held her until the sobbing had faded to a distant cry of loneliness. "You're ours now Marina, don't worry- you're safe with us."
The sobbing faded, the girl straightened and stood up, the fear was replaced by determination; she bowed and returned to the Bogie.
"What now?" Erin mused.
"Let's follow and find out."
A delicious smell of cooking wafted around the wreck as they caught up with Marina. She served two plates on the small table in their cabin, opened a bottle of wine- and squatted patently against the wall.
"One for you," Hugh gestured from the plate to the girl and back so forcibly she had to flee the cabin.
Erin followed and came back seconds later with a third plate, and a wonderfully bemused expression. "That microwave is a bit more advanced than we thought, it created this from nothing." She set the plate next to their own, and ordered Marina to join them; she did so, nervously at first, as though expecting it to be a trick, but settled down on seeing them smiling gently.
"She's earned her keep," Hugh laughed as he started to eat. "Can she ever be truly free?"
"Don't force her, she doesn't want to be- yet."
"We could insist,"
"And terrify her? No dear, we can only lead her where she's willing to follow; in her own good time."
"We hardly need a maid on the Enigma."
"She offered herself to us, and we accepted- would you break your word so easily?"
He turned to examine the delightful child who now shared his life with Erin, and grinned, "No, never. But she'll be trouble, I hope."
"She'll more than make up for it."
Marina felt the love they shared and knew peace, she smiled for the first time and hugged Hugh spontaneously, then Erin. Blushing she sat back to join their surprised laughter.
Marina helped them to understand the Trajan over the next few weeks, but was not an engineer; she had little more than a layperson's knowledge of the ship. While able to operate some systems she could not explain how they worked. Erin had been right, Marina was expendable, but not to them; she was so eager to please they could not help but love her.
"My position on Trajan was help in cabin," Marina said in stilted English, which wasn't bad for one week's training, "I belong to ship, but assigned to cabin duties, my master help navigate, his wife pilot officer. She jealous, I not know why; my duty to help both be happy."
"Why did they own you?" Hugh said simply. "Are you a slave?"
"No slave, they very expensive on Terra. I made to serve Humans."
"You're not human?" Erin gasped.
"Biroid, synthetic life..."
Erin reached out to take Marina's hand and inspected it closely. "Feels normal to me; would you mind if we examine you fully?"
"You not know? I sorry for..."
"Oh, knock it off Marina," Hugh snapped. "And stop apologising, you can't help what you are."
Smiling nervously, Marina lay on the bed as they pushed and poked her; they felt flesh and bone, but nothing more. It was only then they noticed she had no navel.
"Her responses are normal," Hugh declared.
"If a bit over sensitive," Erin chuckled. "She was born, not assembled."
Marina lay gasping under their examination, "No, I was created on computer and born in artificial womb."
"Genetic manipulation," Hugh sighed. "I'd almost expected an android."
"In a way she is," Erin said sadly. "She thinks she is one, which I suppose is even worse."
"But I not Human," Marina gasped, "I must serve you."
"Being Human is more than just having parents," Erin laughed, "I've met some creeps who shouldn't have qualified- should have been drowned at birth. And I've a friend who was conceived in a test tube, he's the gentlest man I know."
"I am what I am, it not be changed Erin."
"And it doesn't matter to us, we'd feel the same about you if you were human; nothing's changed."
Hugh asked gently, "What happened, why were you in storage?"
"My mistress hurt me for pleasing master, push me in emergency Biroid storage chamber and stasis locker. She said I was surplus and to find a new owner..." Her face slipped into remembered despair as she gasped, "Lid closed, then open and I see you."
"And the bitch sealed you in," Hugh swore, "nice lady.
“So you belong to the ship?” Erin mused. “What if we claim salvage on the Trajan?”
“Then you own me and there’s not a court on Terra that would disagree,” Marina said with relief. “You do want to own me, not just use me?” she gasped hastily.
Erin and Hugh exchanged bemused glances, and laughed together. “By own,” Erin asked, ”I take it you mean for life?”
“Until you sell me,” Marina begged, “please don’t just throw me away. I have to belong to somebody!” she gasped in anguish.
“And if you don’t,” Hugh asked, “what then? Freedom?”
“To a Biroid freedom means starvation or termination,” Marina gasped in horror. “Please no…”
“You belong to us,” Erin snapped, “now and forever!”
“We’ll never free you,” Hugh insisted. “Or sell you.”
Marina lay on the bed crying happily as they held her, she glanced up to see Erin and Hugh were also teary-eyed. They sobbed together as love began to heal broken hearts.
Later they returned to the chamber where they had first found Marina. Hugh pointed to the stasis caskets, “This is the emergency storage chamber? So who are the others?"
"Technical crew in case of termination or accident. I not meet them, but all have ship skills."
Erin started to laugh in triumph, "They're all Biroids? All like you?"
"Not like me, I domestic maid but others all independent workers loyal to ship owner."
"Tell me," Hugh beamed, "if we claim salvage on the Trajan, do we own them too?"
"Why, I think so; you are Human, yes?" She vowed, "We have to obey."
"No Marina," Erin insisted, "you don't have to obey us. Not if we're doing wrong."
"We want loyalty and respect, but not blind obedience."
"I want to obey you," she sobbed, reaching out with trembling hands. "I want to please you both."
"And you are doing," Hugh explained as he caught a hand and kissed it softly. "Very well indeed."
"You're serving us just fine, we've no complaints," Erin said gently as she embraced the girl.
That night they camped around a blazing fire of driftwood a hundred yards from the Trajan, re-cooking replicated food in the fire while tasting unknown wines. Erin and Hugh shared a blanket as the night turned cool, leaving Marina to tend the fire.
"Have you heard of Æden?" Hugh asked. "We think it's a planet."
"No, we'd colonised everything in our system, but not gone further; the stars are far off."
"Not any more, we found a stardrive mounted in the Trajan; have you heard about them?"
"No, never," Marina said around a mouthful of spicy barbecued sausage careful not to let the hot sauce drip onto her bare breasts.
"So," Erin mused as she tucked into a baked potato, "you were either out longer than we thought, or there's a new player hiding in the shadows."
"Would you mind explaining," he gasped around a mouthful of stake.
"We believe that the Trajan was bought as surplus and fitted with a Jumpdrive, right?"
"Well, yes; so far."
"But who created the drives, if not the Terrans then another group; so do they even know what happens to their old ships?"
Marina thought aloud, "We had no war for centuries, we did not need so many ships- I think the Trajan could have been sold for commercial use."
"What of your world, Terra," Erin asked dreamily, "what's it like?"
"Well I know, I was programmed to, but I've never been there- all my life I serve on Trajan." Marina sighed and began, "Terran history is four thousand years old, and the Marcuan Dynasty has ruled for the last two thousand years; steering the system towards peace. There hasn't been a war for over a thousand years, we have all we need, security, housing, food. The world is stable..."
"And rather boring?" Hugh chuckled.
"If it takes a nuclear war to give you a good time," Erin snapped in fun, "I'll take ennui any day."
"You!" he laughed, "You'd die of boredom faster than radiation sickness."
Marina laughed wickedly, "No, not so boring master Hugh; not..."
"Marina," he chuckled in warning, "don't ever call me master; I might get to like it."
"Thank you, mas..." she laughed, "Thanks Hugh."
"Is there something..?" Erin gasped.
"Pleasure Biroids were created to replace human slaves, they are experts in recreation, able to give and receive delight in a thousand forms; me, I'm just an amenity."
Erin sighed, "Amenity, would you care to explain?"
"On your world, you have free gifts in hotels and ships- yes?"
"Courtesy towels shampoo and razors," Hugh gasped in disbelief, "but you're a bit more than that." He stared at the girl in amazement, as the firelight revealed her perfect beauty. Marina grinned back sadly, sorry she had to reveal her lowly status.
"Everything is relative," Erin mused, "but this is approaching bad taste."
"Would you rather we have human slaves?" Marina asked seriously.
Hugh chuckled grimly, "I've known worse."
"But you know what I am, I want to please you; can you believe a slave who say same?"
"Can we believe you?" Hugh asked in surprise.
"I can not lie to either of you," Marina said sincerely.
"I didn't think you had," he laughed gently. "But I'd think that slaves would find the odd fib to be a survival trait." She blushed furiously, and he chuckled, "Well, what do you know- you really can't lie."
Erin laughed, "Marina, I thought I was good at languages, but you're picking up English so fast it's frightening..."
"Part of my duties, translation, but I sorry it take so long; English unknown on Terra."
"This is long," Hugh laughed. "What's short?"
Erin gasped, "How do you do it?"
"I have a database of all known proto-languages, comparison and extrapolation is automatic; we many cultures that no talk Latin."
"What?" Erin gasped in disbelief.
"What else should we talk, the Marcuan Dynasty was founded in Rome."
"Oh boy, Hugh sighed, "we sure aren’t in Kansas anymore."
"That explains the script," Erin laughed, "Latin, of an evolved kind; pity I wasn't interested in the classics."
"Me neither, just Naval warfare. Marina, can you tell us how the Marcuan Dynasty came to be?"
"Do you want a four hour lecture or the legend?"
"I'll take the legend," Erin said quickly. "I'm sure we'll have better things to put us to sleep than ancient history."
"Simply told," Marina intoned, "Senator Marcus of Clan Julii was condemned to death by the mad Emperor elect Domitian. The legend tells of how his daughter Julia and her Champion asked the Gods for magical weapons to rescue him and save the Empire. They were granted a sword that could heal as well as kill, and spears that would slay at a distance. They fought their way through a renegade Legion, killed Domitian and saved Marcus, who became our greatest Emperor- and let us to the light."
"Domitian," Hugh mused, "we had an emperor called that; died of a bad case of political intrigue brought on by years of insanity and paranoia."
"Oh no Hugh, my Domitian died before he could assume the purple robes of office."
"Sounds like Princess Julia chose the right champion," Erin chuckled.
Marina said sadly, "Julia and her Champion were never honoured, the Gods’ price was that the lovers would be cast adrift in time, forever in limbo... They were never seen again."
"Dirty trick," Hugh said sleepily.
Erin poured the last of the wine, as the legend faded away. "You'd better not be too tired," she chuckled richly.
"With you, never," he sighed.
Erin awoke in Hugh’s arms in the early hours, to hear Marina's gentle sobs. She looked over the fire to see the Biroid shivering with cold. "Bring your blanket," she said gently, "come and join us."
"You mean it," Marina sighed happily.
"Would I lie to you?"
Hugh half woke as Marina snuggled between them as though she belonged there. "Hush," Erin laughed, "go to sleep."
The morning was cool and misty; the fire had died down to smouldering embers that lifted thin tendrils of smoke into the early light.
Hugh awoke fully and felt Marina between him and Erin, he felt embarrassed and afraid, wanting to hold the Biroid and scared of driving Erin off.
"There's nothing wrong in loving us both," Erin mused aloud. "Is there?"
"I'm not sure," he stammered. "She was created for this role, we didn't make her..."
Marina stretched and yawned, totally at peace between them. She felt their embarrassment and rolled free, snatching the spare blanket to cover herself; then lay cloaked not three feet away, grinning sadly. "Erin, do you fear me?"
The question was so ridiculous Erin laughed, "Should I?"
"And Hugh?"
"I could never be afraid of you."
"Could I break your hearts?" Marina asked seriously.
"Well yes, I suppose..."
"No she couldn't," Erin snapped. "Because we hold your own heart, don't we?"
"If you'll have it. Do not worry Hugh, I'll not touch either of you until you both want me to; I do not need too." She smiled across at them, as a prickling of hedonistic power seemed to stir around her- nothing had changed- and everything. Her face beamed with erotic delights that left them surging with lust. It was as though the innocent child had become a Succubus, and her trembling hairs were transmitting pure sensuality; an aura of carnal lust seemed to wash between Erin and Hugh, stirring them to wild abandon. And yet Marina had not moved a muscle.
Hugh turned from Marina to Erin, and saw her gazing up at him with lust-glazed eyes. "Is this..?”
"Shut up and kiss me, you damn..."
They joined in love without restraint, giving and receiving pleasure till they though to die... As Marina looked on with a secret smile.
Later Marina helped them to wash in the cabin's shower, scrubbing them both clean of the sand; then giving massages that left them floating in heaven.
"I think we'll keep her," Hugh gasped in delight as Marina reached a tense muscle on his back and eased it away.
"Good choice," Erin laughed.
As they sat up Marina knelt before them, smiling with friendship and reached forward to kiss them both. "Thank you Hugh. Do you trust me now?"
He reached forward to cup her face and grinned, "If we're a bit slow I hope you don't mind, we're only human."
"You're a bit provincial," Marina admitted with a sly smile, "but I don't care- if you let me please you."
"If I've a complaint," Erin laughed, "I'll let you know- but so far you've more than earned our love."
CHAPTER TWO
REUNION
The bay
The days dragged on and Marina learnt to speak clear English under Hugh and Erin's enthusiastic tutorage as they sunbathed on the beach and ransacked the Trajan. Only once did Hugh have to open fire with his Glock so scare off a pack of feral dogs that were rooting through their campsite. But the isolation was beginning to tell on top of the mystery of the world's fate; three people alone in an empty world, feeling cut off and vulnerable. Nerves were beginning to fray ever more as time dragged slowly on.
Hugh suggested reviving the other Biroids and Erin said she'd welcome more company on the beach but Marina almost started to feel jealous of sharing their attention. She was ashamed at how little she really knew compared to experienced technicians. Domestics were not encouraged to leave their cabins, except on lone to human crewmembers.
They tried to carry the caskets up through the service tunnels, it was not hard, due to the inbuilt Gravetics they only weighed a few pounds. However, it was almost impossible to drag them while climbing the narrow access ways clinging to the thin ladders with one hand.
“Marina,” Erin mused, “have you any kind of crane on this ship?”
“We had lifters,” she replied, “but I have not seen one since the accident.”
“Any rope?” Hugh suggested.
“Sorry.” Her pretty face flitted from sorrow to mischief in a second. “I wonder. Hugh, have you seen any loose floor plating?”
“Near the drive chamber, but what for?”
“I’ll show you,” Marina laughed. She took a section of floor plating and fumbled with a mesh just under the cover. A little later the plating began to hover a few inches over the floor. Marina laughed as she stepped onto the plating and began to surf down the corridor.
“What the hell,” Erin gasped.
“Gravetic mesh built into the plating,” Marina called back. “Same as on the caskets but a lot stronger. They lift the ship and provide synthetic gravity for the crew.” She barrel-rolled down the corridor standing upside-down on the ceiling.
“Artificial gravity,” Hugh gasped.
“Just think what it would mean to the Enigma,” Erin beamed.
Hugh and Erin dragged the five caskets onto the beach. There was not any need, they could have been opened in the ship, but Erin suggested that an open-air briefing might be a good way to start off the relationship.
As it gave her an excuse to try on a new bikini Hugh did not object. She still left her blond hair sweeping over her scar, it was a personal quirk that Hugh found appealing, but he hoped that she would get over it; he loved her, scar and all.
Marina checked the readouts and initiated the revival, everything was automated and the caskets swung open almost as one.
Four men and a brunette stood up, glancing around nervously. All were tall and handsome, intelligent and capable, but they looked totally lost.
Erin chortled, "Marina, do you all go into stasis unclothed?"
"You've seen bits of metal flaring in a microwave?" She said with a grin, "Well Erin, the same would happen to clothing in a stasis field- something to avoid."
"I thought it might be aesthetic," Hugh laughed.
“Well, now you mention it, there must be some reason they never developed stasis garments.”
Erin giggled, "Go on love, give them the briefing."
Marina called them together, and gave a brief account of why they were there and what was expected.
The leader, a handsome man in his late thirties, stepped forward and Marina helped translate, "I'm Cadminus, if it pleases you."
"I don't care what you call yourselves," Erin insisted.
"That's not the way," Cadminus complained. "We're supposed to take your names, and add -ipor on the end."
"Hughipor," Marina chuckled, "Hugh's boy."
"Or Erinipor, Erin's girl- no, we'll stick to Marina." Of to one side Marina gasped with relief.
Hugh sighed, "Do you always do that? It must end up with a ship full of people with the same name."
"There are exceptions," Cadminus admitted.
"We’ll stick to first names, for now; what do you like being called?" Erin sighed.
The Biroids went into a brief discussion.
"I will retain Cadminus, then Mario, Lilinius, Papinus," he nodded to the woman, "Hosta."
"Very good," Hugh grinned. "Will you accept our leadership?"
"Could we do other?"
"Not right now," Hugh admitted. "We'll need your skills to leave this world, but after, that will be up to you."
"You don't have to remain slaves if you'd rather have freedom."
"We're not slaves," Cadminus insisted. "They have rights we do not."
"What do you expect of us?"
"To use us and abuse us- then slap us back in stasis until you need us again," Cadminus sighed, "as is always the way."
"Help us," Erin insisted, "and you'll never see stasis again- you'll have the same chance of life and happiness as the rest of us- this I swear."
Cadminus gasped with incredulity, "Will your Captain agree?"
"He's also my father, and yes he will."
"Mister Hugh?"
"Yes, he'll be more than happy to have such skilled crew."
"You offer us places as crewmembers!" Cadminus gasped.
"If you want to earn the right," Hugh laughed.
"Let us see this great ship of yours, where Biroids are treated as crew."
"The Enigma's a boat," Erin sighed.
"Boat, is she then that small?"
"No," Hugh moaned, "but she's still a boat."
Enigma
"Just you wait till I get my hands on those runaways," Miles fumed for the hundredth time, "I'll keelhaul them, just see if I..."
Harris chuckled, "You'll be too busy hugging them. Mind you, Erin has a lot to answer for, kidnapping our First Officer, and all that..."
"They could have..."
"You're not blind, you must have seen how they act around each other; they're in love, unless I'm going senile."
"So they're together, alone in an empty world for weeks..." Miles sighed, "We're in trouble."
Pelle called from the Bridge, "Captain, surface contact; baring oh fifteen degrees, range five hundred Ks."
"Can you trace her engines?"
"Negative sir, she's dead in the water, but she's big."
"Con, set course oh fifteen; speed thirty knots. Let's see what's out there."
The Enigma limped along with a broken wing, as the repair crew tried to fix her internal damage; there was nothing that could be done about the wing. She would never fly again.
It took days for the crippled boat to approach the target, which grew ever larger; finally they could read the name on the aircraft carrier's rusty stern: USS Kitty Hawk.
Harris sighed, "I was on her once, running a joint exercise with the US Marines; she was a damn fine ship."
Major Crowley asked, "Captain, I request permission to board her; we might be able to salvage supplies or even find out what happened."
"Harris, what do you think?"
"We have to try Captain, our rations are low and intelligence even lower; we must know what happened."
"Very well gentlemen, we'll drop you off and take up station providing covering fire- if needed. Prepare your men, and good luck."
An hour later Harris and Crowley led an assault team onto the Kitty Hawk's stern rail, and began climbing to the flight deck.
The ship was eerily silent, with rust streaked grey paint and seagull-infested stairs. They climbed through the squawking birds onto the massive flight deck, to see a huge hole bored straight through the ship, down fifteen decks to the sea- rocks could be seen supporting the rusted hulk.
Harris examined the rusted cut, and pulled his bloody hand away. "It's still smooth and sharp after all these years."
Crowley turned to examine the flight deck, "The planes, they're gone; all seventy of them."
"Come on, let’s try the galley; there should be some tins left, if nothing else."
The way was tortuous through narrow passages and tight stairs, following a route half forgotten in Harris' memory. Several times they took wrong turnings and entered dimly lit quarters or a squadron ready room. All gave to impression of a hasty departure, clothing and papers were scattered around, but there was no indication as to why.
The galley was empty, every can was gone, packets had rotted away and a carrion stench warned them not to open the walk in freezers.
Finally they entered the Island, and climbed to the bridge. One rotted body lay over the helm, a hole through the head and pistol in a skeletal hand.
"The Captain?" Harris guessed.
"We know less now than when we started," Crowley snapped.
"What do you want, a signed confession?"
"Whatever it was that did this was sudden and catastrophic- have you any idea how much power it must have taken to destroy the world over night?"
"More than you," Harris snapped, "I've experienced my country being destroyed in a single night. It's just a matter of scale."
"Ah, yes my friend, but I've one question- where are the bodies? We've only seen the one, what happened to the others?"
"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not know- I just want to leave this world."
"That is beyond simple soldiers like us, it's up to Erin, if she's survived."
They signalled the Enigma, and left the USS Kitty Hawk- sailing away with few answers and yet more questions.
Craft of a hundred kinds littered the ocean, slowly drifting with wind and current back and forth across the world, until they finally rusted away and sank. All were as lifeless as the Kitty Hawk, and while a few had edible supplies, none offered any answers to the anxious crew.
Harris finally asked permission to visit the mainland and shoot a couple of cows that grazed near the beach. It took an hour to kill the beasts, and all day to butcher them, but as night began to fall the crew rushed to complete the messy job and hurry back to the Enigma- they only relaxed once the boat had slid safely below the waves.
The bay
Marina took a snack for the Biroids as they attempted to fix an old truck, it was a long walk to the nearest town. They grinned at her, trying to remember what wheels were for, she laughed in sympathy and returned to the Trajan. Still grinning she entered the cabin, holding three packets taken from the store, she handed one to Hugh and Erin. "You might as well look the part when the Enigma arrives," she chuckled. "Terran officer's uniforms, they're the right size."