What Judgments Come

“Maybe we should take that as a hint then,” Davis said. “After all, it seems that whenever we try to kick-start Shedai technology, it turns around and bites us on the ass.”

When Xiong turned to regard the engineer, he saw from the expression on the other man’s face that he was not at all serious with his suggestion, and it made him realize how negative he was sounding. “Okay, point taken. Besides, I really have no intention of waiting around for the next happy accident.” Eyeing the isolation chamber, he frowned. “I just feel like we’re poking a stick into a cage sometimes. I know I don’t like being poked. I like to be asked. Nicely.”

“So if I ask you nicely,” Davis said, “you’ll bring me breakfast?”

That made Xiong laugh, which in turn helped to dispel at least some of his somber mood. “I think not,” he said, leaning back in his chair and lifting his feet to rest on the edge of the console as he let his gaze wander across the set of status monitors at his station. The patterns of energy readings fed to the screens by the isolation chamber’s internal sensor network were almost hypnotic, and as his mind began to wander, he considered how the sensor probes might be received within the body of the artifact. He knew from previous scans that it was a complex latticework imbued with energy, even though the source of that power remained a mystery. As for the Shedai entity held within the artifact, of course it was present in a noncorporeal state, but beyond that? How did the Shedai’s energy—its life force, he allowed—exist within its crystalline prison? He doubted this bizarre incarceration was comfortable for the entity, but what else might be in play here? Could the sensor scans to which Xiong and his companions were subjecting the artifact be having some kind of detrimental effect on the Shedai? Was it possible that the life-form was in pain?

“I know that look,” he heard Davis say. “I see it on faces all over this ship. What are you thinking?”

Removing his feet from the console, Xiong pushed himself closer to the workstation and began entering a string of commands. “We’re telling the artifact what we want,” he said, more to himself than the engineer.

“Excuse me?” Davis asked.

Xiong did not look away from his console as he replied, “We’re sca

His eyes widening in surprise, Davis then nodded in appreciation. “Okay, that’s a bit out of left field, but everybody on this ship owns property out there. I see where you’re going. By subjecting the artifact to the intensive sensor sweeps and rudimentary linguacode hailing messages, we’re essentially trying to force the Shedai to talk to us.”

“Exactly,” Xiong said, feeling renewed excitement begi

Davis’s brow furrowed as he considered the notion. “Can we do that? I mean, we’ve been hailing it, even if we’ve been clumsy about it.” Moving closer to one of the operations hub’s adjacent consoles, he began tapping a series of colored buttons. “We could try transmitting a standard hail using a tight-beam directional broadcast, like we would a message sent via subspace.”

Realizing what the engineer intended to do, Xiong held up a hand. “Wait. You want to try this right now?”

“Why not?” Davis asked. “You worried we might wake it up or something?”

Despite himself, Xiong chuckled. “No, of course not. It’s just that we haven’t discussed it or anything.”

Davis eyed him. “You want to wait until morning?”

It would be the prudent thing to do, Xiong knew. Even with the containment procedures in place, and given that this experiment would not even approach the level of intensity of the previous sensor scans inflicted upon the artifact, there was the omnipresent concern of some unexpected consequence of their action. However, days of sensor telemetry indicated such a development was unlikely.

When he saw the smile on Xiong’s face, Davis laughed. “Now you’re thinking like an engineer.” Reaching for the console, he input another string of commands. “We’ll use the same standard linguacode messages that are employed for first-contact scenarios. After all, when in doubt, go with what works.”

“We probably shouldn’t expect any sort of meaningful response,” Xiong said. “Then again, we don’t know anything about how the Shedai communicate with other life-forms.”

“One thing at a time, Lieutenant,” Davis said, his attention fixed on his workstation. “Activate the isolation protocols.”

Xiong carried out that task, nodding in satisfaction at the status indicators telling him the chamber was in full isolation mode. “Everything shows green. Transmit whenever you’re ready.”

“Here goes nothing,” Davis said as he pressed a final control. “Hailing frequency open; transmitting linguacode greeting.” Drawing a deep breath, the engineer looked to Xiong before adding, “Knock, knock.”

Pointing to a new set of data scrolling on one of his display screens, Xiong said, “I’m seeing indications that the beam’s scattering once it penetrates the artifact’s outer shell.”

“I can try changing frequencies,” Davis suggested, entering the necessary commands to his console. A moment later, he shook his head. “I’ve set the transmission to repeat on a rapid cycle through the frequency bands, but it doesn’t seem to be having any effect.”

“What about increasing power?” Xiong asked.

Pausing to consider that, Davis tapped the edge of his console. “This system isn’t all that powerful, but we can still kick it up a few notches and see what happens. If we really wanted some juice, we could pump the signal through a subspace relay.”

Xiong shrugged. “Got any of those lying around?”

“Sure,” Davis replied, “but they weigh about four hundred kilos and are around the size of a photon torpedo. Bring two, if you’re going.” Holding up a finger as though arriving at another idea, he said, “On the other hand, if we reroute through the Lovell’s communications array, that would almost certainly be more than enough power to get the job done.”

“And it would violate the isolation protocols,” Xiong countered. “I’m not ready to take that kind of risk just yet.”

Davis nodded. “Agreed. Let’s just see what we can do with what we’ve got, then.” Tapping a sequence of controls at a speed that almost made Xiong’s eyes hurt as he tried to follow, Davis entered another set of commands. “We’re at full power, and I’ve got the hailing message cycling through every frequency, including several that are out of range of most regular communications equipment.” When he saw Xiong’s questioning look, he said, “We like to tinker on this ship, remember?”

Ignoring the question, Xiong moved back to his own workstation, noting the new readings on his monitors. “The transmission beam is holding together a bit better now, but I think it’s still scattering.” Once again, he could only marvel at the construction of the inscrutable Mirdonyae Artifact. How had its creators managed to forge such a brilliant feat of engineering prowess and even artistry?

“Damn, but that thing’s stubborn,” Davis said, shaking his head in wonder.

“Wait.” When the engineer looked in his direction, Xiong pointed to one of his monitors. “There’s a new reading here.”

“What?” Davis all but jumped from his chair, moving to stand behind Xiong. He leaned over the lieutenant’s shoulder, angling for a better look at the screen. “I’ll be a son of a bitch. It’s working?”