Christopher Nuttall - Ark Royal

Or maybe there’s something in them that wants to beautify their ships , he thought. There were human movements that wanted to produce ships identical to science-fantasy ships from the previous two centuries. Most of them were utterly unworkable, at least as military starships, but civilian models could work if someone put up the cash. Wouldn’t we, if we could get it to work ?

“We’ve moved the prisoners to Ark Royal ,” Major Parnell said, when Ted finally reached the alien engineering compartment. “None of them talked to us, so we put them in with the others, in hopes they would speak.”

Ted nodded. The more samples of alien words they recorded, the quicker it would be to decipher the alien tongue. “And the self-destruct?”

“We accidentally disabled it, according to the engineers,” Parnell admitted. “We got lucky, sir.”

“I know,” Ted said. He looked over at Anderson, who seemed to have merged a chunk of human technology into an alien control system. “What can you tell me?”

“Good news and bad,” Anderson grunted. The engineer pulled himself away from the merged system with obvious reluctance. “I think I've figured out how they extend the range of their FTL drive; they actually create a stream of gravity pulses that boost the potential tramline into reality long enough for them to use it. It's actually much more flexible than we realised, sir. We may discover that there are more than two tramlines in this system.”

Ted blinked in surprise. “How do you figure that?”

He held up a hand. “Spare me the technobabble,” he said, quickly. “Just plain English, please.”

“There's a difference between potential tramlines and real ones,” Anderson said. “Our assumption was that it was impossible to actually do more than ride the tramlines we knew to be real. But this left us with the mystery of why some tramlines exist and others do not — or at least seem not to exist. It’s possible that space is threaded with potential tramlines the aliens might be able to activate at will.”

“I see,” Ted said. There were five known tramlines leading from the Sol System to various destinations, nine counting the projected alien tramlines. But what if there were more? The aliens might be able to leapfrog across far more of humanity’s territory than the Admiralty had realised. “Can we duplicate the system?”

“There shouldn't be any problems with producing a duplicate,” Anderson said. “I’d prefer not to start dissecting the system until we got back to Earth, though. The alien command and control unit is quite complex and I don’t want to risk annoying it.”

“Which leads back to the important question,” Ted said. “Can we use the drive to get back home?”

“Easily,” Anderson said. He grinned, suddenly. “We’d just have to secure Ark Royal’s hull to the alien ship.”

Ted blanched. Securing one capital ship to another was dangerous, even when both ships belonged to the Royal Navy. If something went wrong on the alien ship and she exploded — he found himself wishing that he knew the ship’s name — Ark Royal would be caught in the blast. Even her armour probably wouldn't provide protection against such a close encounter.

“Do it,” he ordered. If nothing else, the reporters would get one hell of a story. And besides, if they got home, the entire crew would be eligible for the prize money. “But I suggest you hurry.”

James couldn't help feeling nervous as the engineering crew carefully linked the two starships together, ensuring that parting contact was impossible. He couldn't help the feeling that it would be impossible with or without the cords; Ark Royal moved like a wallowing pig and the alien starship, as yet unnamed, was little better. The engineers might be fascinated by the chance to study so much alien technology, but James had to concentrate on the dangers. And it was perhaps the riskiest manoeuvre the Royal Navy had ever carried out, at least in the face of the enemy.

“We’re linked, sir,” Anderson reported, finally. “We’ve attached a tube so crewmen can move between the two ships, as well as supervising the alien drive.”

“Understood,” James said. The reporters had been begging for a chance to board the alien craft as soon as they’d realised what had been accomplished. He sighed; sooner or later, he would have to surrender to their request, even though it was quite likely that all of the details would be thoroughly classified. The Royal Navy wouldn't want to give up any intelligence on the alien ships without a fight — or at least getting something of equal value in return. “When can we jump?”

“I’d prefer to spend more time monitoring the alien power curves,” Anderson said, “but we should be able to jump as soon as we reach the tramline.”

James smiled, ruefully. The longest jump ever recorded — at least before the aliens arrived — was ten light years — and that had only been possible because both stars were massive enough to create a longer than normal tramline running between them. Now , Ark Royal was going to set a record, at least until human researchers started messing around with the potentials of the alien drive system. Genuine original science would be done, Anderson had claimed, during one of his brief naps. Humanity would learn a great deal from the alien ship.

“Good,” he said. Manoeuvring interlinked ships through interplanetary space would be tricky, but doable. “We will leave as soon as the Captain gives the command.”

Ted felt his heartbeat pounding faster and faster as the conjoined ships entered the phantom tramline. Human technology could barely detect its existence, let alone traverse it to an unknown destination. But the alien systems seemed to have no difficulty recognising that it was there. He hesitated as the two ships came to a halt — the whole jump was dangerous enough without trying to do it at speed — then gave the order. The universe seemed to darken…

For a terrified moment, he was sure he’d killed them all. The moment of darkness stretched on and on, then cleared with astonishing speed. He felt his ship lurch, as if it had rammed something, then quieten down. The display was already starting to fill up with data.

“We made it, sir,” Lightbridge said. “All systems report nominal.”

Ted sat back in his chair, feeling sweat running down his back. Fourteen light years. They’d jumped fourteen light years, effectively instantaneously. And the aliens did it all the time. The implications hadn't changed from the conclusions in the half-panicky reports he’d been sent the Admiralty, but they hadn't quite seemed real . Now… now he comprehended, finally, that the territory the aliens controlled might be much greater than the human sphere.

“We have several reports of crewmen fainting,” Commander Fitzwilliam said. There was an odd note of amusement in his voice, which seemed out of place until he continued. “All, but two of the reporters also fainted.”

Ted nodded, then looked down at his console as the reports flowed in from all over the ship — both ships. Spacers were used to normal jumps, but this one had been unusually violent, although no one was quite sure why. Perhaps it explained, he decided, why the aliens were so lax about chasing the human ships through the tramlines. Their drives reacted poorly when asked to jump at speed.

“Check the aliens,” he ordered. Was it possible that they were stunned… or dead? “How did they handle the jump?”

“They seem fine, sir,” Major Parnell reported, two minutes later. “But clearly a little agitated.”