Hatchlings: fantasy and sci fi tales

Mottled: science fiction

This just in:

Unmanned Reconnaissance Scouts, known in the spaceways as Ursa, today made the first approach and assessment of Anomalous Object 571, previously assumed to be an ice comet. Lunar Industries recently won the bidding war for harvesting rights, a hotly contested issue since AO571's appearance on long-range radar three weeks ago.

Then came the first surprise. Ursa's first A & A report classified AO571 as man-made, bumping the classification of LI's operation to Salvage of Abandoned Materials, a prospect not so lucrative as H2O procurement.

The second report, however, came as a shock to all spacefarers. Though drifting and radio-silent, AO571 turned out not as dead and abandoned as it appeared. Exterior markings identify the five-hundred-meter diameter cylinder as Biosphere V, thought lost on its way to Jovian orbit eleven years ago.

One exterior light blinked an archaic code recognized by Ursa's scanners. The eight scientists aboard are all alive and well, must to the disgust of the LI salvage team. By international treaty no fees can be charged for rescue of the long-lost crew.

What mysterious disaster befell the propulsion and communication systems will shortly come to light in debriefing at Lunar Medical's quarantine wing.

Captain Huze limped through the airlock and turned left, her mouth set in a grim line. The rest of Biosphere V's crew, newly released from debriefing and quarantine, tottered the opposite direction, drawn toward Lunar Medical's cafeteria like iron filings to a magnet. Her mouth, like theirs, watered for real food, anything besides the constant diet of those foul-tasting mushrooms that had kept them alive after other resources failed. The first phase of Biosphere V's deployment plan included self-sufficiency resources for merely two years.

But Huze wouldn't enjoy a feast of real food until she settled her grievances. She slid into a body-port and requested a bubble to Tarcomed Innovations, based on Earth Prime. "Vice President over Customer Satisfaction," she stated, and gave the access zap provided by her recently acquired lawyer. "Live person, full interface."

She tapped the port's shell with her stained, fungus-mottled fingernails, while her stomach rumbled hunger and her jaw gritted on the words that had stewed in aggravation over the last decade.

"I'm back," she told the long-faced person who appeared before her. "I'm surprised you're still in business. We heard all the brouhaha following our disappearance."

"You heard--?" His expression turned sheepish.

"Yes, we could still receive. The first solar flare destroyed our transmitters. The first one! But we had a backup reception antenna to deploy."

"Well, solar flares, you never can--"

"'Extensive testing,' you blazoned in all our negotiations. Extensive testing should have covered solar flares."

"Well, you might have a point--"

"And your 'innovative intelligence navigation system' failed in its first long burn. We can't make a fix on our location, can't plot a chart. Then surprise, surprise, it's blazed all over the news that the testing all took place in simulation only. Of course the disclosure came too late for us. We lost years to your lies and unbased, over-inflated egos. Years!"

The representative, pixelated from the waist down, showed teeth in an ingratiating smile. "But you made it back--" he began.

"No thanks to you. Took five years to rehash the calculus and make course adjustments. Seat of the pants navigation." Huze slapped a fully-spiked quasi note onto the interface where it appeared to stick to the vice president's nose. "Send," she ordered, and a replica burst into being behind the jerk. "According to our contract, as per point 3.1415, I demand you reimburse my investors for their failed investment. You'll find my claim for damages in the addendum."