Homesick

Vladimir had not even begun his task when he contacted Sally to request more time. Had he jumped into action the moment he left the mess hall he may have been nearly finished by then, but he had other concerns. The first was very basic. After his experience with their less pleasant and more portly guest, Vlad had no intention of climbing into the bay without insulting himself thoroughly. Gloves and a respirator would not be sufficient. He needed a complete pressure suit! Fortunately, the departure deck included two maintenance cabinets with just such accessories. The suit was not as bulky as one that might be worn on an alien world, and it was much easier to put on. It was not armor plated, nor would it screen out much of the radiation one would encounter in space. It was similar in some ways to a diving suit and was designed for comfort and freedom of movement for workers performing maintenance inside areas of the ship that may on occasion be depressurized.

Climbing down the ladder, Vlad had been immune to the unpleasant smell, but still found it uncomfortable to grasp the rungs even with his gloves. Vlad had always had an intense dislike for other people’s bodily secretions, let alone those of an alien. This was one of the few instances in which he could be considered a compulsive clean freak. He carried a canister of disinfectant spray with him and used it liberally on his way down. Once on the chamber floor, he activated an automated sanitation protocol that bathed the ship with a similar solution. Finally, on his way into the pod itself, he sprayed ahead of himself like a firefighter dousing a smoldering bed of embers. By the time he entered the pod, any known microbes clinging to exposed surfaces would have been reduced to benign ooze.

More comfortable now, he set his tool bag down and glanced around the cabin with more interest. First, he examined the science station below the couches. The console was empty and appeared untouched. He pulled at the utility drawers, disappointed to find nothing in them. Then he glanced above towards the main view port. Draped over one of the couches was an outer garment that may have been a sort of cape. He snatched it hungrily and checked for pockets. There were none. He looked at it inside and out and then tossed it aside, continuing his sweep. Under the garment was something more promising. It was a leather item that may have been a wallet. He snatched this up with more interest. It was held together with a rawhide string, which he pulled at to reveal its contents. A small piece of metal was inside, which may have been a coin or some sort of key. The markings on it were unintelligible to him, of course. He bounced the metal in his hand as if to appraise its value. Aside from this, the wallet also contained a paper-like document with a leathery texture. The paper was marked with symbols and a diagram that made no sense outside their context. He tossed these onto the floor and looked in vain for other things that might provide insight into their strange guests. But there was nothing. With a frustrated sigh, he turned to his work.

He thought to warn Sally only when the voices in his earpiece got loud enough to warrant his attention. He had effectively tuned out most of the conversation in the mess hall, only satisfying himself that the aliens were still there. The prospect of them leaving, and thus showing up in or near the bay before he was finished, was his only true concern even with the suit. With this spur, he ripped his hand-held from its Velcro strip on his sleeve and called up his notes. He began at the science station, tapping the console screen to bring it to life. Then he drew a power-wrench from his kit and prepared to loosen the bolts on the panel below. The bolts were recessed and required him to drop to his knees to face them. Even then, it was hard to actually see the panel well enough to position the wrench. His helmet further hampered him and he cussed silently. Not wanting to lie down on the floor, he spread his legs as far as he could. But then he saw something that made him jump with concern. On the panel he was about to detach were hastily written alien symbols. Unlike the other symbols, these did not look like part of a written language. Drawn around the first recessed bolt Vladimir was preparing to remove was a crude circle that was almost egg-shaped. It was faint and looked like it may have been partially erased. Within the circle was the light trace of a shape that looked like a wedge. As Vladimir squinted and drew closer, its meaning began to dawn on him. The narrow end of the wedge pointed to the left. Vlad checked one of the other bolts. Again, there was a crude circle drawn around it and another wedge within. Like the first, the wedge pointed to the left. Vlad nodded with understanding. These were simple engineering instructions written on what would have been alien equipment to their guests. The bolts of the panel were identified as well as the direction they could be turned to release them. Vlad was apparently not the first person to open this panel.

The motorized wrench whined as it pulled up the six bolts holding in the panel. The panel itself was not particularly fortified, but was heavy enough that he could easily feel it when it dropped into his hands. He gently lowered it to the floor and examined the other side, finding exactly what he expected. On the inside of the panel were more drawings, these more detailed, and punctuated with notes in the alien language. Vlad didn’t have to refer to his hand-held to know that what he saw was a rough operating schematic of the computer system, including power pathways and what must have been descriptions of what each circuit board was thought to do. Perhaps the Englishman was right. Perhaps these people were smarter than they appeared.

Checking his own diagram, he grasped the first circuit card he would need to remove. The console above beeped in protest and a warning display blinked. Vlad glanced at it only briefly to confirm that its removal had the appropriate effect. He set the card on the floor and removed another, counting from left to right. And then another. More error messages appeared on the console, but the nature of them changed. One missing board would be interpreted as a fault, but several of them would indicate maintenance. Now a diagram appeared on the screen showing specific functions of the station that were still available and darkening those that were not. With the removal of five more boards, all that remained were two components. These were the environmental controls and the fuel consumption monitor. Then, from below the nearly empty chassis, Vlad grasped a black handle that was difficult to see from a distance. He carefully tugged at it, releasing a rectangular box. The moment he did so, the screen darkened completely, but for the words “Internal OS Failure.”

Satisfied that he had completed the first of his tasks, he lifted the panel to set it back in its place, but then stopped, holding the slab in midair. He looked again at the empty slots that once contained component boards and the vacant tray that held the databanks Ian was so concerned to protect. Below these were coiled a handful of multicolored cables, neatly organized. Some provided power to the system while others carried information. These did not appear to have been disconnected or tampered with, but on the bottom of the chassis, where he would have expected to see an even trunk line of cables feeding up from below, he noticed one irregularity. Some of the cables were curved, as if they had been moved aside from their original symmetry. As he looked closer, he could also see that one of the nylon harness ties had been stretched out of position to allow this to happen. He nudged at the cables and revealed what he had been hoping to find all along. Secured to the chassis was a component that did not belong there. It was a small, black box that had a curved shape, almost like that of a turtle. When Vlad worked it free, he could see a single copper wire connecting it to one of the lines in the mass of cables. An expert job, he thought. The alien device, whatever its purpose, was extremely well hidden and was apparently interfaced with the ship’s power systems.

“Crafty bastards!” Vlad said with respect. He then cut the line, seeing no obvious response from the mysterious black turtle. He turned it over in his hands with a triumphant smile. Then he dropped it into his suit’s pocket and inspected the empty chassis in search of other unauthorized modifications.