Alien Emergencies A Sector General Omnibus

PART 1 SPACEBIRD The Monitor Corps scoutshipTorrancewas engaged on a mission which was both highly important and deadly dull. Like the other units of its flotilla it had been assigned a relatively tiny volume of space in Sector Nineone of the many three-dimensional blanks which still appeared in the Federation's chartsto fill in the types and positions of the stars which it contained and the numbers of planets circling them. Because a ten-man scoutship did not have the facilities for handling a first contact situation, they were forbidden to land or even make a close approach to these planets. They would identify the technologically advanced worlds, if any, by analyzing the radio frequency and other forms of radiation emanating from them. As Major Madden, the vessel's captain, had told them at the start of the mission, they were simply going to count lights in the sky and that was all. Naturally, Fate could not resist a temptation likethat... "Radar, sir," said a voice from the controlroom speaker. "We have a blip on the close-approach screen. Distance six miles, closing slowly, non-collision course." "Lock on the telescope," said the Captain, "and let's see it." "Yes, sir. Repeater screen Two." On Corps scoutships discipline was strict only when circumstances warranted it, and normally those circumstances did not arise during a mapping mission. As a result the noises coming from the speaker resembled a debate rather than a series of station reports. "It looks like a...a bird, sir, with its wings spread." "A plucked bird." "Has anyone calculated the chances against materializing this close to an object in interstellar space?" "I think it's an asteroid, or molten material which congealed by accident into that shape." "Two lights years from the nearest sun?" "Quiet, please," said the Captain. "Lock on an analyzer and report." There was a short pause, then: "Estimated size, roughly one-third that of this ship. It's non-reflective, non-metallic, non-mineral and" "You're doing a fine job of telling me what it isn't," said the Captain dryly. "It is organic, sir, and..." "Yes?" "And alive." For a few seconds the controlroom speaker and the Captain held their breath, then Madden said firmly, "Power Room, maneuvering thrust in five minutes. Astrogation, match courses and close to five hundred yards. Ordanace, stand by. Surgeon-Lieutenant Brenner will prepare for EVA." The debate was over. During the ensuing four hours Lieutenant Brenner examined the creature, initially at a safe distance and later as closely as his suit would allow. He was sure that the analyzer had been a little too optimistic over what was most likely a not quite frigid corpse. Certainly the thing was no threat because it could not move even if it had wanted to. The covering of what looked like large, flat barnacles and the rock-hard cement which held them together saw to that. Later, when he was ending his report to the Captain, he said, "To sum up, sir, it is suffering from a pretty weird skin condition which got out of control and caused it to be dumpedcertainly it didn't fly out here. This implies a race with space-travel who are subject to a disease which scares them so badly that they dump the sufferers into space while they are still alive. "As you know," he continued, "I don&amWhite, James is the author of 'Alien Emergencies A Sector General Omnibus' with ISBN 9780312877705 and ISBN 0312877706.