The physicists insisted that traversing a wormhole with a nuclear reactor would not affect the operation of the wormhole. However, the same could not be said in reverse. There was no guarantee that the physics of the wormhole and the radiation around it would not affect the reactor. Subsequently ships always put their engines into a cold shut down state before entering the jump point. Nuclear weapons weren’t much different than a nuclear engine in off mode. They were each inert, in a relative sense of the word. This bomb, however, did not appear to be inert. If he went into the wormhole with it there was a very good chance Sebastian and the Sloth would come out as subatomic particles. 

He could veer off from the jump point but the thrust required would make him light up on everyone’s sensors. Getting boarded by the Navy with a nuclear warhead in his hold would be just lovely. If he jettisoned it after entering the jump zone it would follow him through the wormhole.  It might, or might not, explode. If it did it would still be behind him.  He might pick up some extra radiation but he probably wouldn’t be vaporized. Probably.

Sebastian checked the readout on his wrist. Just over four minutes till the jump. He slammed the container door shut and hit the releases on the remaining straps. Grabbing a zero-g rung he pulled himself up and over the container so he could squeeze himself between the wall and container. Pressing with both legs he slowly pushed the container away from the wall. Once moving, it floated slowly out into the middle of the cargo hold. If he could get it to sit near the rear hatch an emergency decompression of the hold should suck it into space. With a little luck it would also push it away from the Sloth. 

By the time it was in position and he’d released the manual safety on the rear hatch his readout indicated fifty-seven seconds till the jump. They would be inside the jump zone any second now. In a well-practiced move Sebastian spun and launched himself back toward the cockpit door. Half way across the hold he smoothly flipped his body so he would hit the door feet first, absorbing the impact with his legs. Locking the pressure door behind him he quickly strapped back into the pilot’s seat.

“Prepare to do an emergency decompression procedure for the rear hatch,” Sebastian told the A.I.  It seemed to take forever for a reply to appear.

Excuse me?

“You heard me.” He quickly punched in his override code on the keyboard.

I’m not sure that’s a good idea.

“Damn it! Just do it, um…A.I.?” It suddenly occurred to Sebastian he didn’t know what the A.I.’s name was. He’d named it when he was drunk. Now that he thought about it he was surprised the A.I. responded to him at all when he was sober.

My name is Jocko.

“Really? Jocko? You’re kidding right?” The cursor just blinked. Sebastian took a deep calming breath and let it out slowly. “Jocko, prepare to blow the rear hatch.”

Alright. 

The rear hatch indicator lights switched from green to a caution yellow. Sebastian switched the side monitor to a view of the cargo hold. He watched the jump readout tick down under thirty seconds and then twenty. Then fifteen.

“Blow the hatch.” A clunking sound came from the hold. The indicator changed to red and a whooshing noise filled the cabin. On the screen the container was pressed against the opening hatch, where it sat momentarily. Suddenly it appeared to jump out of the hold, sucked out into the vacuum of space.

“Shut the hatch!”  Glancing at the readout he watched it count off the last five seconds.

Please put your seats into their upright position. 

And prepare to kiss your ass goodbye thought Sebastian. With that the world turned sideways and inside out. Everything in Sebastian’s vision receded down a long dark tunnel to a pinpoint then exploded back with a crystalline clarity. The effect was actually an optical illusion caused by the brain trying to understand the world bending into a fourth dimension. 

Suddenly nauseous he leaned over and vomited into a waste bag. Everything seemed to be spinning. Something was wrong. The ship should have exited the wormhole with the same velocity and orientation it entered with. 

“Jocko, how’s the Sloth?” 

Tumbling, the A.I. replied.  Tumbling slowly. 

The ship appeared to be rotating around at least two of its axes. The main engines were offline so Sebastian used the maneuvering thrusters to counter the spin. His balance was still off and it took some effort to get the Sloth under control. Sebastian was an experienced pilot and zero-g certified. It was unusual for him to be so disoriented after a jump.

There’s radiation damage to the hull.

The bomb must have detonated behind the Sloth thought Sebastian. Hopefully the ship didn’t get too singed. “Do we still have hull integrity?”

 Hmm.  Probably. 

Sebastian pounded his fist on the side panel in frustration. The reaction force sent him floating against the opposite wall. 

It’s not my fault.  Some of my sensors are blind.

Damn it. There had to be some damage if there were sensors out. He’d have to do a suited manual inspection, maybe even a spacewalk to check for damage outside. That was risky. There wasn’t a Navy blockade on this side of the wormhole but there were probably other vessels in the area. Possibly even a patrol ship from the colony. The longer he stuck around the greater the chance of questions starting.

“Jocko, how many ships are near us?”

 Uhm.  The cursor blinked for several long seconds.  No ships. 

That was lucky, unless the Sloth was really damaged, then he might be screwed.

“How far are we from the Itasca Waystation?” The first thing done when a new system was opened was to establish a waystation near the jump point. Ships like the Sloth could dock and transfer cargo to other intersystem ships and surface transports. The waystation also handled all communications between any settlements and inbound ships.

Uhm. 

The cursor blinked for almost a minute this time. Sebastian watched it with a growing sense of alarm. If it was the A.I. that was damaged and not the sensors that could be a serious problem. 

It’s difficult to say.

“Why?” He could try rebooting the A.I. but there was a chance it might not restart once off. And then he’d really be screwed. He’d have to send out a mayday and pay for a tow to the waystation.

It seems we aren’t in the Itasca system.

Yep, something was definitely busted. “Jocko, how are you feeling?” Sebastian floated over to the main computer panels and started unlatching the covers.

 I’m not crazy. 

Sure you’re not thought Sebastian. Opening the main panel he started to punch in the override sequence to shut down the A.I. system.

There are only four planets. 

Sebastian stopped what he was doing and pondered the screen. Leaving the open panel he pulled himself back into the pilot’s chair and displayed the telemetry data on the main screen. One, two, three…four. Son of a bitch. Four. The Itasca system had seven primaries. Maybe the other three were on the other side of the sun?

Working under the assumption the astronomical sensors could also be malfunctioning Sebastian started scanning for routine communication signals from other ships, the Waystation, or the planetary settlements. Next he scanned for ANY electromagnetic emissions. In a sense of growing confusion, he then pulled up a spectrum analysis of the local star. An hour and three beers later he sat slumped in the chair staring at the wall.

“It’s not the Itasca system.”

 No shit. 

For a moment he thought about ripping out the A.I.’s main processor anyway but a calmness had settled over him. Whether because he was in the vastness of space alone or because of the beers he couldn’t have said. 

Eventually he dragged himself into motion. If he was going to get out of…wherever he was, the first order of business was securing the ship. That he could focus on. Donning a light pressure suit for work inside the ship he floated back to the cargo hold door. This time he would have to go through the cramped airlock. There wasn’t any point in fully pressurizing the hold until he knew it would hold air. 

Once through the airlock he activated the hold lights. Then he pulled an aerosol dispenser from his belt. Spraying small puffs of sparkling particles into the thin air he slowly floated down the length of the hold. After each puff he watched the particles carefully to see if they just continued expanding or if they got pulled toward a leak. He repeated the process around the entire edge of the rear door and was gratified not to find any evidence of a leak. Next he pulled out a handheld device with a small screen. Its nanotechnology sensor emitted low levels of neutrons that it used to generate a diffraction pattern from whatever it was pointed at. Sebastian swept it methodically around the metal of the rear door and key structural members. There were some residual stress points in the hull but nothing to be too worried about. Hull integrity, check. 

Next order of business, power.  Without power he was dead regardless of where he was. Tapping his wrist control he opened a direct channel to the A.I., Jocko. 

“Jocko, bring the main engines to stand-by and recharge the batteries.” The A.I. didn’t reply but he could hear the metallic noise of the heat radiators deploying and the growing hum of the engines coming online. Power, check.

Next, food and water? Air? No, water and air could be recycled and if he was out here long enough to need much food it wouldn’t matter. The amount of beer he might have left did give him slight pause. No, the next order of business was checking out the other two storage containers. The last thing he needed was another bomb trying to blow up in the hold. The other two containers were still tightly secured in the hold and undamaged. He grabbed a cutting torch from a toolbox and floated over to the first container. For a moment Sebastian hesitated. What if the container was booby-trapped or he accidentally cut into a bomb and it detonated? He quickly discarded that concern. The other container’s door was nearly ripped off and the bomb hadn’t exploded. Well…not right away at least.

Shrugging away his hesitation he made quick work of the locking mechanism and pulled open the door. Shining a light inside he wasn’t surprised to see a twin to the first bomb. The major difference being this one was undamaged and wasn’t acting aggressive. Floating over to the last container Sebastian cut its lock off and pulled open the door expecting to find a third bomb. What he saw inside was not a bomb. For several seconds he just stared trying to make sense of what he was seeing. A bomb he could work with, this…well this was another matter. Inside the container was a survival pod. Some vessels, not his, had them installed for emergencies. They would place a person into a medically induced coma to reduce the amount of air they needed until help arrived. This one appeared to have a standard interface but was hooked up to a portable power supply and several bottles of additional oxygen, making it self-sustaining inside the container. But the most surprising thing was that the pod wasn’t empty. Inside there was a person. A woman. Wonderful.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3