“I don't believe so, Ma'am,” Travis said, frowning as he pulled up the log. There hadn't been any mention of activity on the watch report he'd read when he'd arrived on duty an hour ago.
No wonder. The flicker Belokas was referring to was the barest bloop, something that would never even have been noticed if the rest of the universe hadn't been so quiet and Casey's crew so bored. The duty officer had put it down to a sensor echo; the sensor officer, after a thorough examination of his equipment, had suggested it was probably a hyper ghost, a phenomenon that shipboard instrumentation was unfortunately not well-equipped to pinpoint or identify. For that, a large-scale orbiting sensor array was necessary, and Manticore wasn't likely to be buying one of those monstrosities anytime soon.
But if the frown on Belokas's face was any indication, she wasn't happy with either explanation. An odd reaction, really, given that such ghosts weren't exactly unheard of out here. “There's been nothing new, Ma'am,” Travis told her. “Do you want us to run another sensor diagnostic?”
For a few seconds Belokas didn't answer, but merely continued her drift toward the command station. Travis watched her approach, his heartbeat picking up a bit. He was still somewhat new to this whole officer-in-charge thing, and he already knew how lousy he was at reading Belokas's expression and body language. Should he have run such a diagnostic already? Was she holding her peace merely because she wanted to be close enough to chew him out quietly, without the rest of the bridge crew listening in?
“More diagnostics won't tell us anything new,” she said at last, catching hold of the hand grip beside his station and bringing herself to a halt. “Let's try something else. Run me a simulation of what a soft translation about fifteen light-minutes outside the hyper limit would look like.”
“Yes, Ma'am,” Travis said, and swiveled around to his console. That possibility had already been considered, he'd seen from the report. But between the diagnostics and the hyper ghost hypothesis, that scenario had apparently been dropped. Certainly there was no record of anyone having done a simulation or even a data-curve profile.
Fortunately, it was a fairly easy job, with most of the necessary templates already stored on the ship's computer. A couple of minutes, and he was ready. “Here we go,” he said, starting the run. “I set it to cover the full range of thirteen to eighteen light-minutes. If that doesn't work, I can extend it outward—”
“Hyper footprint!” Rusk called.
For a fraction of a second Travis thought the sensor officer was talking about the simulation. Then his brain caught up with him. “Acknowledged,” he said, swiveling again and checking the sensor display. It was a translation, all right, a big, fat, noisy one.
And it was in the northwest sector, right on the same vector where the sensor bloop had registered. “We have anything on her?” he asked.
“She's reasonably big,” Rusk said, frowning at his displays. “Low-power wedge, low acceleration. Probably a freighter, possibly a passenger liner. There's something funny about her wedge, too—some sort of nonrhythmic fluctuation. Could be she's having reactor problems.”
Travis looked at Belokas, wondering if she would formally relieve him and take command. Ships didn't show up at Manticore every day, after all.
But she was just gazing silently at the displays. Waiting, apparently, for the officer of the watch to respond to the situation.
Travis squared his shoulders. “Send a request for identification and status, and inform the rest of Janus that we have a visitor,” he ordered. “Then send an alert to System Command.” He squinted at the tactical. “What is she, about ten light-minutes out?”
“Yes, Sir, just a shade under,” Rusk confirmed. “So about twenty minutes until we get a reply.”
“Unless she is having problems, in which case she's probably already screaming for help,” Belokas said. She tapped her cheek thoughtfully. “Where's Aegis at the moment?”
Aegis, the callsign for Admiral Locatelli's Green One force. “The far side of Manticore,” Travis said. “About twenty-two light minutes away from us, maybe thirteen or fourteen from the bogey. Shall I send an alert directly to Admiral Locatelli?”
“That would be a good idea,” Belokas confirmed. “If there's trouble, we're definitely closest. But depending on what's going on, he may want to reconfigure Aegis while we head out there.” Her lips compressed briefly. “And while you do all that, I also recommend calling Commodore Heissman to the bridge.”