Magic Dirt: The Best of Sean Williams by Sean Williams

Halfway there, three impact probes were launched from the Jew; they separated with a half-heard, half-felt clang and swooped down to their fiery rendezvous.
     
    An hour later, three tiny flashes of light were recorded and filed away for analysis. And that was it until the next flyby, three days later. If Freedom’s staff found nothing too unusual in the spectrographic data, the Jew would shift its orbit to study the primary star in more detail, after which we would head out to the gas giants. Then we would leave.
     
    Five weeks. Four, if the system was as empty as it appeared to be. Another month for me to keep the crew from each other’s throats.
     
    I stifled both a yawn and a recurring inspiration to write a romantic sub-plot involving Sara Mravinsky and myself, just to liven things up. Perhaps I was wrong to suppress this urge. The cathartic process included myself, didn’t it? Who was going to keep me from my own throat?
     
    Then it happened.
     
    ~ * ~
     
    (Cut to: Close scanner shot of JAKE FOO-WONG studying the astrogation screen, concentrating on tracing a path through the system. Suddenly, his head snaps up; on his face is an expression that combines both fear and total surprise.)
     
    JAKE:Captain! We have something!
     
    GABE: Yes, Jake — ? (he looks up) My God! What the hell is that?
     
    (Snapshot view of the screen: an orange tangle of overlapping lines and circles. One small dot is moving very, very quickly across the screen.)
     
    JAKE: (Struggling for self-control) Astrogation reports ... an unidentified object —
     
    GABE: Red Alert, Sara! Red Alert!
     
    JAKE: — velocity three four by ten exp seven —
     
    GABE: Standby main drive!
     
    JAKE: — heading ... (he looks up, and his face is pale) ... right at us, Captain ...
     
    GABE: Seal all airlocks. For God’s sake, Steve, get that engine running. I want medical on full standby!
     
    (Pull back: Control is a mass of confusion; voices shout into intercoms; an alarm begins to wail. Captured in one corner of the shot, with a look of absolute, impotent horror on his cola-black face, is me.)
     
    JAKE: (A little calmer, but still breathless.) We have visual, sir.
     
    (Cut to: A star-speckled view with Mu 1-Boötis in the top-left corner. Nothing is visible at first, then a bright green dot appears in the centre of the starscape. With a soundless whoosh, it instantly fills the screen.)
     
    GABE: Jesus Christ ... That thing is moving! What magnification was that, Jake?
     
    JAKE: Full, sir.
     
    GABE: ETA?
     
    JAKE: One-ninety seconds.
     
    GABE: Is it broadcasting?
     
    JAKE: No, sir, and it does not respond to signals.
     
    GABE: Shit. Give me an evasive course and I’ll take manual.
     
    SARA: (Looking uncharacteristically frightened) Can’t we just jump the hell out of here?
     
    STEVE: No. We need at least forty-eight hours to program a crossover.
     
    SARA: (Embarrassed) Of course. Sorry.
     
    (Cut to: FREEDOM MAXWELL, at her console. The same image as before, of the alien spacecraft zooming towards the ship, fills her screen. Note: although her hair retains its coppery sheen, even in this bright green light, her beauty is only matched by her efficiency at her job.)
     
    FREEDOM: OK ... (briskly, to the computer) ... roll it back a frame ... more ... there. Freeze and store. Magnify.
     
    ANDRE: (Leaning over her shoulder) What the hell ...?
     
    FREEDOM: (Tapping on the screen to highlight aspects of the alien craft) Disc-shaped, rotating at a very high speed, a border of yellow light around the edge of the disc, seems to leave a particulate vapour in its wake ... (Turning away from the screen) Gabe, is this some sort of joke?
     
    GABE: What? No, of course not. Why?
     
    FREEDOM: Well, in that case, Captain, we seem to have discovered our very first flying saucer.
     
    (Stunned silence.)
     
    JAKE: Bogey still approaching. (You can tell by the look on his face that he’s always wanted to play this role.) ETA now seventy