Graham frowned slightly He doesn't know anything. This will complicate the research.
Samantha Ross furrowed her brow. So he didn't accomplish this himself. What would that leave? She considered options. A natural phenomenon, some form of quantum tunnelling perhaps? That would be interesting. Or unatural means, technology. Not likely, not if He is unaware of any such technology in use.
Doctor Owens spoke; "I was thinking that we may be looking at an instance of a wave coupling effect of some type, or perhaps a classical presentation of matter-energy conversion. Of course then there would have to be a resultant energy to matter return."
E = mc2 Denise thought.. No, that's not it. She spoke; "You're talking about something like quantum tunnelling," (Voicing Ross' thoughts) "But consider this." She walked slightly around the table, stopping next to Doyle and Graham. The makeup might be hiding the circles under her eyes, but the long day and night, then day again , was starting to catch up with her. She continued; "You're talking about a random movement of particles, a very complex pattern of particles, which theoretically could slip through space-time and appear anytime, at any random point in the universe." She gestured at Doyle; "What are the odds that he would appear in the Sirius sector, exactly where the Alliance arrived after leaving Sol?" Not to mention in one piece, with his ship and everything. A point she left unsaid.
Doctor Owens replied. "That would be rather unlikely." Something of an understatement.
Doctor Donovan spoke for the first time; "I think we're getting ahead of ourselves. May I propose we learn more about the craft he came here in? It certainly appears to be several hundred years old. We should attempt to determine that actual age of the materials it is composed of. "
Graham answered; "I see, if we have a craft as old as the Alliance-Coalition war, that would indicate arrival through more standard means, like stasis or.." Graham stopped, realizing that for that to be the case, Doyle would likely know of it.
Donovan picked up on the inference, and glanced at Doyle. He's not telling us everything
Doctor Owens, if he had reached the same conclusion, apparently didn't react to it visually."If the vessel was relatively *new*in terms of the age of it's components, that would point towards an instantaneous transport, supporting the tunnelling hypothesis."
Or that this is an elaborate hoax Donovan thought.
Ross thought carefully. "Is there anyone in the Institute staff suitable for performing that type of analysis?
After a moment, Graham spoke: "I can't think of anyone. I know Doctor Cook hasn't expressed an interest in restaffing that field since most of the Metallurgy Department was killed in Kansas." Indeed, the departments section in the Institute building had been reassigned to the Astronomy branch months ago.
The comment, innocuous to the rest of the staff, felt like a knife to the heart for Denise. She was tired, her normal defenses were down, and she hadn't expected it. A look of shock and pain crossed her face in a quick flash. "Excuse me." She muttered, her eyes already faintly damp. She turned, leaving the hangar. The men on the staff didn't seem to notice.
Ross, knowing Denises' connection to the comment, watched her leave, concern apparent in her expression. I'll have to talk to her later.
Doctor Graham considered the aspects of what was being discussed. He spoke; "Mr. Doyle, can you be certain you were the only person left? I think we can all agree that this event is not likely to be a natural occurrence. Could the Alliance have developed some type of transportation technology? Maybe something that was used on you, maybe even accidently?"
Ross spoke before Doyle could respond; "That still doesn't account for the time variance. Being instantly transported to Sirius wouldn't account for why it would take from the War to eight-eighteen AS to arrive here. In fact, he ought to have arrived before the sleeper ship did."
Doctor Owens responded. "However, if we are to consider a technology based on quantum relativity, the time difference is not paticularly important. Suppose it was an imperfect technology, where the physical destination could be determined, but not the temporal one. After all, to have the year eight-eighteen be the year where the Lieutenant arrives seems fairly random. Why now? "
Donovan spoke; "Fair conjecture. But we should still establish more basic information. He looked at Doyle. "Mr. Doyle, what about your memory of your journey here? What is your first memory of being in Sirius?" He had decided to pursure the idea that Doyle might have been in some kind of stasis. At least until a proper study could be preformed on the vessel.
The feeling of his mind being pulled out of his body. Detachment, stillness, even as space lit up in a beautiful yet terrible nova...
"Nothing, it just happened, one minute in orbit, the next..."
He looked past the crowd and furrowed his brows.
"I think I showed up over what you'd call 'Manhattan'." Doyle allowed himself a weak little grin and then looked down to the floor. "Almost thought it was Earth.. Anyway, was really messed up, disoriented. Head hurt, kind of jabbing pain behind the eyes sort of thing. Ship was tumbling until I leveled her out."
Graham frowned again. "That's not much to start with."
Ross replied; "It's alright Doctor," Glancing at Doyle; "We'll proceed with analysis of the craft."
Angela Wight had wandered back to the group, catching Ross' remark. She spoke; "Doctor Hart has gone to fetch the hermetic detector from the N102. Should get us a better picture of the particle variation than the sensor packs in the helmets."
Graham spoke; "Right then, excellent. We'll be able to clarify some of this nonsense about irregular particle streams."
Angela cast a somewhat sensitive look at Graham; "You'll believe it when you see it yourself."
Ross looked at Angela. "The two of you recorded some data with the sensor packs, did you not?"
"Not much, but yes." Angela replied. "Denise had a pack for particle traffic, and I had one for temperature readings."
Ross pressed; "And what did you see?"
Angela replied, carefully; "Enough to realize Mister Doyle isn't from around here."
Ross continued; "And where is that data now?"
A sheepish look crossed Angelas face. "We had not set up the data storage yet. I guess the readings are still on the storage chips in the helmets. My suit is in my quarters." She tensed slightly, waiting for criticism to follow for the breach of procedure.
"I see." Ross said. "Why don't you go retreive the chips then, and check on Denise while you are up there."
"Yes Doctor." Angela said. She left the hangar.
Doctor Ross returned to Doyle. "Lieutenant, if I may, what were you doing immediately before your arrival here? What is the last thing you remember doing in Sol?
Denise entered her cabin. She shut off the lights, not remembering leaving them on. She sat on her bed, soft and unassuming in the corner of the room , and wondered if Esperanza had found anything out about David. She wondered why she wasn't out looking for him herself. Because she was too soft, she knew. She didn't know the first thing about dealing with pirates, criminals, and the like. The sort of people who probably had David. She wondered if Ortega even believed he was alive. Not likely Denise thought to herself. No one else did.
She lay down on the bed, and wept quietly. Soon she had fallen asleep.
Looking at a big, blue thing that faded out and was followed by-
As if he was going to recount that wonderful image. Protecting these people from the horrors he'd seen was just as important as maintaining his credibility in the face of scientific scrutiny; he couldn't afford to be labeled a maniac after all this, babbling about giant space squids that blew up star systems.
"I was, ah..."
Watching everyone die...
"... staring down the Coalition Main Battle Fleet. It was right over Pluto, not more than an hour after the Sleeper Ships made their jump. They were closing in at flank speed, about to fire, when..."
When it appeared...
"... the next thing I know I'm tumbling around here..."
A flimsy story. He'd have to spill the beans at some point; their assessment would be inaccurate otherwise, but when? And to whom?
Angela Wight opened the door to her quarters, and stepped inside. It was very cramped. A small bed, a desk, a closet, and a hatch leading to a smaller head.
She looked around a second, then shook her head. She hadn't remembered leaving the lights on.
She walked over to her small closet, sliding open the delicate door. Her hazard suit helmet rested atop a shelf in the closet. She picked it up, turning it around as she did so.
There was a small slot for a data storage chip in the back of the helmet. A slot, but no chip.
Angelas heart skipped a beat. She was going to be in alot of trouble. She looked around the carpeted deck. Maybe it fell out?
[color=#FFFF00]Main Hanger Bay
Samantha Ross listened to Doyles' response, nodding slightly.
Graham spoke up; "Aha! I still say this is starting to look like a technology. Something able to convey material, and persons, vast distances." He took a few wandering steps between the table and Doyle. "Think of it. Would the Alliance really have invested all their chances, every last hope, on five.." (He coughed) "Or so sleeper ships?" Everything depending on getting these massive vessels launched in time? I submit that such an idea is nonsense!"
"The Alliance might have had their back to the wall, might have had a rough time of it, but their unwavering defiance for the duration of the war shows an incredible capacity to adapt. I find it rather hard to believe that they would place all their efforts into just a few ships. Not to mention leaving everyone who wasn't on one of those ships to their fate."
"I put forward the suggestion that perhaps the Alliance was working on other methods for saving it's people. Perhaps these methods were still in development when the Coalition Fleet arrived. Maybe, just maybe, there was a last-ditch attempt to use an imperfect technology, as the wolves closed around the Alliance, and they knew there wouldn't be another chance. Maybe, the Lieutenant is here because he was unknowningly part of that effort."
Ross blinked. Owens had been listening intently. Donovan rested a hand on his chin.
Ross spoke; "Doctor Graham, you have made some excellent points."
Doyle suppressed a wince; if only what they said was true. But from what he'd seen, it couldn't have been farther from the truth. The Alliance had neither the time nor the resources to do much more than tweak the drives for the Sleeper Ships and then cash in their luck. As Rockford had told him, the military and political elite had created a miniature ship with similar equipment to save their own skins; everybody else was forsaken. They helped the Sleeper Ships escape, and as such their last mission was over.
Then again...
... He hitched a ride on Rockford's ship. His fighter, latched to the surface like a fly, managed to make the initial jump with him. Had that really occurred? Maybe he survived the blast, then hitched the ride, and perhaps everything else was a delusion?
But even if he had, he'd have arrived when Rockford did, which was to say hundreds of years prior to the "current" date.
His head was beginning to ache. He knew what he saw, he couldn't forget.
"I wouldn't know," he finally said, "But why weren't other Alliance ships, and maybe even some Coalition ships, brought with?"
Graham raised an eyebrow. "Who's to say that they weren't?"
For a moment everyone pondered the comment.
Donovan frowned. "I would say everyone. We haven't heard or seen anything remotely similar to Mr Doyle here, and the Institute has been putting out feelers for weeks. Surely a collection of similar vessels would have gotten attention."
Grahams mustache twitched, and he replied; "I'm not so sure. From what I've gathered from Mrs. Ellis and Doctor Morris, the Lieutenant, most especially near the time of his arrival, made some effort to keep a low profile. Considering the circumstances, I can certainly imagine why. Consider what a strange enviroment this must be for him. I imagine any other individual sharing his origin would feel the same. It is a large sector, and ships can easily remain far from attention."
Samantha Ross spoke; "Pardon me Doctor Graham, but the Lieutenant has made it quite clear that he arrived here alone." She leaned forward slightly, and she brushed a strand of auburn hair from her face.
Graham replied, looking at Doyle; "As far as he knows."
A quizzical look crossed Donovans' face as Graham continued; "Consider this. Despite being launched near the same time, the sleeper ships arrived in Sirus sector years apart, and some distance apart; in the case of the Hispania and the Gallia, on the other side of the sector. A different outcome for each ship, either due to individual course corrections, damage, and so on. The best efforts to get us here still resulted in humanity scattered completely across the sector. I suspect other travelers from Sol, if they are indeed here, are not recognized as such, may have been killed during transit, or from meeting the wrong people. Or they simply may not have arrived yet.
"Do you really believe that there could be others?" Doctor Ross asked.
Graham replied; "I would say that the Institute should still be looking for others like Lieutenant Doyle. If indeed a technology was used to bring him here, there may have simply been miscalculations in it's use, which strikes me as likely if the process had to be hurried. Others could be arriving at any moment, indeed anywhere in Sirius."
Owens frowned, considering how to reply.
[color=#FFFF00]Cabin 12, Deck 2
Angela Wight keyed the chime to Denises' room. A long pause before she nervously keyed it again.
Denise answered, and Angela realized Denise had been crying, the makeup having run a little. She also seemed to have recently woken up.
"I'm sorry to...bother you Denise. I'm in trouble. I think I'm in trouble."
Densie became a little more alert, and asked cautiously; "Why? What's wrong?"
A question I should be asking you she thought "I can't find the chip from my sensor pak." She said. Her eyes were wide, and she was shaking a little.
Denise replied; "Is that all?" Denise spoke softy. "Where did you have it last?"
"It was in my helmet." She had remembered more clearly now.
"Okay, so maybe you took it back down to the hangar with you and..."
"No." Angela interrupted. I had forgot to take it with me...but that was after I put my helmet away.." Her eyes brightened. "...and I saw it then! It was in the back of the helmet as I took it off."
Denise replied. "It has been a long couple days Angela, I'm sure we'll find it somewhere. Anyway, I guess we should get back the hangar. Doctor Ross is going to be wondering whats happened to us." She yawned. "I guess I nodded off..."
"I'm going to be in so much trouble when Doctor Ross asks for the chip." Angela was looking dejectedly down at her feet. She looked worried. "It has the best proof of Him being different. The complete readouts the pak took of him and the ship."
"Don't worry, we'll find it. In the meantime, we'll just have to work off of mine." Denise crossed the room, pulled the helmet off her closet shelf, and turned it over.
There was an empty slot were the data chip should have been.
"Well, ah, what if it wasn't some technology HQ was cooking up?" he proposed, "Any natural phenomena or anything that could've.. y'know, done all this?"
As Doyle finished speaking, Doctor Owens rose from the table, and walked over the fighter, eyeing it casually. He glanced at Doyle, then at Graham. "The Lieutenant is right. Let's not jump to conclusions. If we follow the theory of tunneling , this could merely be a random event, however incredible the odds may be." He paused before adding; "Stranger things have happened."
Graham shook his head. "I don't believe it. An Alliance pilot, that happens to appear next to an Alliance colony, centuries later. The Libertys' landing point, no less." He had a gruff, deep voice, that others often assumed implied a hostile demeanor, though in actuality, rarely the case. "That has to be an indication of an intelligent decision to send him here. "
On the other side of the hangar, the larger hatch opened, and Gwen Hart began making her way towards the group, trailed closely by Thomas Keller. Gwen carried a large grey case, Keller pushing a tall rolling cart.
Owens spoke again; " I did not mean to suggest a random tunneling event to Sirius would be, or is, a common occurence. I'm only suggesting that this once, multiple factors combined, by chance, to produce the results we have now. Rather like the original formation of the universe. Terras' own place in Sol, and the life developed on it. Each a rare likelyhood of success, but each happened regardless. Just because the Lieutenant has a shared origin with the current occupants of this sector, doesn't mean we should instantly assume a connection."
"But Manhattan? To appear near Manhattan? I don't see that as an accident, cosmic or otherwise." Graham was frowning. "If he had arrived in the Reunion minefield, or out in the Edge Nebula, I would indeed consider it more closely; but as it is, I cannot believe it sir."
Samantha Ross spoke, glancing between Graham and Doyle; "I would tend to agree with Doctor Graham. I cannot see how this could have happened randomly." She blinked. "However, it would be negligent not to consider any possible alternative."
"Ooo! The conjecture phase! I love this part!" Gwen Hart had wandered within auditory range. She set her burden down on the deck, and threw a smile at the group. Nodding towards Doyle, she spoke again; "Maybe he's from an alternate reality! Just kinda popped in from somewhere else. Maybe where he's from, coffee tastes like Synthpaste! Or vise versa! Or both!"
Ross nodded. "Indeed, a reasonable proposal, Doctor Hart. The concept of an alternate reality, not the Synthpaste part."
Thomas Keller, who had been listening quietly, murmured; "Actually, I think Synth tried that once..." He grimaced.
Hart made a face, and then frowned, something she did rarely. "Ugh. That was a joke Doctor, I didn't mean to really suggest that. That's a little too science fiction for what we're doing here."
"Pardon me." Doctor Owens interrupted. "Not at all. I was about to suggest the same. The Everett-Dewitt theories may well apply here."
Graham raised an eyebrow. "You mean the cat is dead? The cat is not dead? What possible data do we have here would indicate that could apply?"
Owens replied; "The possibilites are endless. The very fact that he appeared next to Manhattan, for example."
Hart shivered, and said to Doyle. "Pretty soon we're gonna have to start calling you Iceman." She then glanced longingly at the table near the bulkhead; "Mmm. More coffee! STAT!" She walked over for another cup, her sixth so far in the day.
Donovan spoke; "We've all been saying how Doyle has "appeared" or "popped in"; but we really don't know that is what has happened at all. The Lieutenant simply regained consciousness here in Sirius. That doesn't really tell us anything about how he got here."
Ross interjected; "Go on."
"Perhaps he wasn't brought then to now at all, but simply took the full time to get here."
"Back to the idea he was in some sort of stasis." Owens said.
"Could someone really be recoverable after so long?" Ross asked.
"It would be unlikely, but not completely infeasible.There have been some cases of a human subject surviving far longer periods of time in stasis than they were originally intended. Admittedly, I'm not aware of any as long as the Lieutenant would have been. I'm just saying we should consider it."
Graham spoke; "Which brings us again to the fact the Lieutenant did not wake up in a pod. He woke up in a fighter, adrift. That fighter." He indicated the Minuteman. The fighter, adrift, not a pod." He repeated.
Donovan spoke, a bit softer then he had before. "Such a distance, for such a long time. We should consider that the Lieutenant may not be able to fully trust his memory. Something could have happened to disrupt the stasis, or maybe he was revived incorrectly. There might have been...damage. Even the sleeper ships had losses for the same reason. The Lieutenant should undergo a medical exam, to check for injuries related to improper recovery." He looked to Doyle and asked; "Tell us Lieutenant, have you experienced any memory loss that you are aware of? Lost time or not remembering something since you arrived here?"
Tumbling. Falling. A planet that looked like Earth. The transmissions, the gate, the water planet, the man on the station, then being back on Pluto, the fire, collapsing, escaping, General Rockford, the hyperjump, the bedroom, the Freeport...
As far as he could tell, he remembered everything well enough. Perhaps too well for his own good.
He grimaced a bit and muttered, "Crystal clear.."
Glancing back at the fighter, Doyle furrowed his brows and continued, saying, "I don't recall any stasis pod or even the jump. But if you're gonna look in there for life support equipment rigged for a thousand year trip you won't find it."
He tapped the nose of the snubfighter. "I mean Hell, it was pretty instantaneous as far as I can tell, one minute staring down the barrels of torpedo batteries, the next..."
Staring down the barrels...
Sensor records.
If it picked up that thing, then...
"Here," he finished abruptly. "Anyway, I can't say I'm exactly.. healthy, out here." He glanced around at the cluster of scientists, a little nervous. "I think it's safe to assume you can figure out what I'm talking about after you look into it."