The Black Gate (The Messenger #11) - J.N. Chaney Page 0,67
drive—not even exhaust ports or weapons arrays.
Wavelengths other than visible light didn’t offer much more. In infrared, it was a few degrees warmer than the ambient temperature of the medium around it. It was completely dark in other wavelengths, from long-wave radio to gamma rays. Sentinel could detect some neutrino emissions from it, suggesting a working power source aboard, but that was it.
“Its trajectory seems to be designed to match the rotation of the Sagittarius arm of the Milky Way,” Sentinel said. “With a slow convergence. Its current course will eventually cause it to enter the arm at a point approximately one thousand, two hundred light-years from the present location of the Black Gate.”
“How eventually is eventually?”
“It is difficult to say without further observation of its course and speed.”
Silence fell over the comm as the three of them simply stared at the obviously ancient object. Jexin finally broke the lingering quiet.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah,” Dash agreed. “By the way, your use of slang is a lot better. But yes. Holy shit, indeed.” He let his gaze roam across the kilometer length of matte surface. Whatever propulsion the ship used, it was nearly undetectable.
“Is that a Deeper mega-carrier, or something like that?” Leira asked.
“Only one way to find out.” Dash hit the engines, and his mech leaped forward. Leira and Jexin immediately fell in to follow.
“Well, that’s big,” Dash said.
Leira grunted her agreement. They now stood only a few klicks off, staring at the ominously dark and silent object. Even this close, their scanners couldn’t tell them much more than they already knew. A close examination of its hull showed evidence of deep abrasion by micrometeorites, dust particles, and gas, implying that it had been underway for a long time. A very long time, in fact.
“I would estimate at least one million years,” Sentinel said. “And likely considerably longer.”
“One million years? So this thing has been underway since, what, eight hundred thousand years before the last big Unseen-Golden war?” Dash said, marvel softening his voice.
“Again, probably considerably longer than that,” Sentinel said.
“And there’s nothing else we can tell about it?” Dash asked.
“We have employed all of the mechs in conducting scans,” Tybalt said. “Individually, and in tandem. We have scanned the entire EM spectrum and have attempted to detect every particle emission of which we are capable. The result of all that is the information you have.”
“Which is basically nothing beyond what we can see with our own eyes,” Jexin said.
“Okay, how can we learn more about this thing?” Dash said. “By boarding it? The three of us investigating a ship over a kilometer long?”
“Just the thought of that gives me the shudders,” Leira replied.
“Not just you.” Dash stared at the incredible data on his display. The scale verged into unreality, and he kept wanting to tap the screen to see if it was a phantom. “It clearly seems to be Deeper tech, or something very much like it. So I guess we could destroy it. But unless it does something, it’s not much of an immediate threat to anyone. We’d also be passing on our chance for some answers, maybe important ones, about the Deepers.”
“So we don’t board it, we don’t destroy it—what’s left?” Leira asked. “Sit here and stare at it?”
“Sentinel, would you be able to tell more if you could actually get a sample of it?” Dash asked.
“In all likelihood, yes. Unless it is bound by different physical and chemical laws that we are, analyzing a sample should allow us to determine more about its age from certain isotopic ratios, more about the nature of its impact damage, more about its flight history—”
“Okay, yeah, got it. I’m sold.”
“So, guys? We’re going to take a little taste?” Jexin waved her power-sword against the backdrop of endless black.
“A sample. Yeah. If we do it quietly, mind you. I’d rather avoid attracting any more attention than we have to,” Dash said.
“They’ll never even know I’m there. I’m naturally sneaky,” Jexin said.
Jexin’s Polaris had been designed and built with stealth in mind. Even on the Archetype’s display, her mech had shrunk to a small, diffuse data point. Dash watched as she nudged her way closer to the mysterious ship, taking her time. Dash leaned onto the very edge of immediate action, in case the ancient ship suddenly came to life and Jexin needed help.
But she kept easing closer until she was immediately adjacent to the massive hull—and nothing happened.