Jeff had thought about this already. “Maybe the doors to the rooms were removed when the ship was rebuilt. Or the machine rooms were built in a way that they were always inaccessible.”
Irons shook his head. “I don’t think so. They must have been accessible to carry out maintenance.”
“Maybe every system was equipped with automatic repair units? They might have been made based on a modular construction system.”
The major frowned. “That’s possible, of course. Like our Falcon-class fighter jets. But the two-man crew of a Falcon wouldn’t be able to carry out repairs during a flight, even if they wanted to. But for large ships and stations, we would always provide a point of access, in case the automatic maintenance systems failed.”
Once again, Jeff realized just how little they knew about the ship’s builders. It was such a shame there were no clues of them left on the ship.
Irons took his handheld out of his pocket and started tapping around on it.
Jeff noticed that Irons’ handheld had a small red section on the back. “Do you have a different model from ours?”
The major hesitated. Eventually, he sighed and nodded. “It’s not a secret, but our policy is to talk about it as little as possible,” he said. “Yes, some commanding officers, including squadron commanders, get a specially encrypted handheld. It contains the transponder codes for all systems in the Empire. Including positions of secret stations near the front line, in case we end up there.
Jeff nodded. He had often wondered what would happen if they had to escape into another system with a sophisticated defense system and they weren’t on the list of welcome guests. If in doubt, an overly cautious station commander would fire a kinetic weapon before an enemy or hijacked bomber had a chance of releasing its Quagma bomb.
“And the red button on the back?” Jeff asked, although he already knew the answer.
“The button is actually a cap with a micro-switch underneath.”
“A self-destruct button?” Jeff asked.
Irons nodded. “Pressing this will release a capacitor, and the electric charge will erase the memory of the chip using EMP. The codes on the device must never fall into enemy hands. We are under orders to do whatever it takes to prevent that happening, even if it costs us our own lives.”
Jeff imagined an Alliance of enemy bombers with valid transponder codes entering the Earth’s Solar System. It gave him goose bumps.
“And we’ll need the codes,” Irons said.
“What for?” Jeff asked. They didn’t even have their bomber anymore.
Irons laughed. “When we enter the Sigma System in this thing, they’ll think it’s a trap set by the Alliance. They won’t take any risks and will destroy it with Quagma bombs. The only way of preventing that is to emit the right transponder code, and that’s in here.” He turned the little device around in his hand.
“How do you plan to connect that thing to the ship’s system to send out the signal?” Jeff asked.
“We’ll work that out when the time comes. I’ll talk to the ship’s computer.”
Jeff was about to ask another question, when a crackling sound filled the room.
“Speak of the devil…” Irons muttered so softly, Jeff barely heard him.
“Hello, dear guests,” said the now familiar voice of the computer.
“Hello, Computer,” Irons replied. “Is everything functioning properly on your ship?”
“There are no problems,” came the immediate reply. “I don’t have much time. I just wanted to inform you that we have completed our first hyperjump and have now moved one-point-four light years in the direction of the system you told me about. The next jump will be in six days’ time after the banks have been recharged.”
Irons nodded. “Thank you for the information.”
“You’re welcome. I will sign off now, as I have to take care of some maintenance on the life support system.”
Jeff shook his head. Gone again? It was one hell of a busy computer.
Irons opened his mouth to say something, but the crackling sound could be heard again and the major closed his mouth.
“These aliens don’t seem to have grasped the concept of multitasking,” Jeff said wryly.
Irons suddenly frowned.
“Everything OK?” Jeff asked him.
“Life support system,” Irons said.
“Excuse me?”
“It didn’t occur to me before, but hearing that word again, there’s something about it that really bothers me.”
“What?”
“If this spacecraft was rebuilt as a robotic ship, why did they go to the effort of pressurizing all the corridors—probably tens of thousands of miles in total—and give them a breathable atmosphere?”
It was a good question. “Maybe they weren’t pressurized until recently, and the computer did it just for us.”
Irons shook his head. “A small area near the airlock would have been sufficient for us, but not the whole ship.”
While Jeff pondered this, there was a knock at the door. Without waiting for an answer, Finni stepped inside. He was followed by Shorty, who shut the door behind him. “Here we are again!” the radar technician said chirpily. “It sure is spooky in those dark corridors. I keep thinking I can hear noises, but when I shine the flashlight, there’s nothing there. I’m glad I can stay here tomorrow.”
“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen,” Irons said dryly.
“What? Why not?” Finni asked, trying not to look too annoyed.
“I need your assistance tomorrow, Corporal. According to the ship’s computer, we recently made a hyperjump. I need you to go back to the airlock with Lieutenant Rutherford in order to ascertain our position outside the ship.”
Finni’s eyes widened. “We made a hyperjump?”
Jeff nodded.
“But I didn’t notice anything.”
Irons nodded. “Another reason to establish our position.” The Major turned to Jeff. “You will go, too. Together with Corporal Fields. You’ll wait at the airlock, to provide help if needed.”
Jeff nodded. It would have been his turn to go out again, anyway. Somehow, he was relieved not to have to go deeper down into the ship. Not tomorrow, at least.
“I thought we wanted to continue exploring the ship,” Shorty said.
Irons shook his head. “No. Checking our current position has absolute priority.”
“I was looking forward to it.” Shorty couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice. “What if we sent a second squad? I would volunteer and take Mac with me.”
Finni rolled his eyes. Shorty seemed to have gotten a taste for exploring the ship.
“No,” Irons said. “Tomorrow we’ll concentrate on the airlock. I don’t want to have to coordinate a reconnaissance squad at the same time.”
“But, I—”
Irons raised his hand and got out of his chair. “Enough already! This discussion is over. Tomorrow we’re concentrating on the airlock, and nothing else. That’s my final word. If everything goes according to plan tomorrow, I’m happy for you to go on another recon deeper into the ship. Have I made myself clear, Private Short?”
Shorty looked down at the major and nodded.
“Now what?” Finni asked.
“We’ll wait for the other squad and compare notes. Then we’re done for the day and should make it an early night. Tomorrow’s a critical day.”
“Critical how?” Shorty asked.
The major looked at him intently. “Because I’ll sleep much better once I know this ship is really heading for Sigma-7.”