The Lazarus War: Artefact by Jamie Sawyer Page B

the Artefact throughout our journey to Helios. It consistently broadcasts the same signal.”
    “No surprises there. Have we tried hailing Helios Station?”
    “Since we arrived in orbit, communications have been erratic. The signal broadcast by the Artefact is intense. It blots out most planetary comms, we think. But we have directed two short data-bursts at the station, and there has been no response.”
    “What technology does the station have?” Kaminski said.
    “Basic survival facilities,” Olsen said. “They were – are – a scientific mission. They have no extra-solar-capable transport.”
    “So they have no way off Helios?” Jenkins responded.
    “That’s right. The base has an appropriately armed security force,” Olsen said. “They also have a communication and metrological satellite in orbit around Helios. No air-defence that we are aware of.”
    “Is their satellite still operational?” I asked.
    “Appears to be,” Atkins said.
    That was interesting information. It seemed unlikely that a comms fault had caused the break in transmission. I rubbed my chin, considering that.
    “So that’s it, people,” I said. “A simple job, but in difficult circumstances. Once we’ve investigated the station, we move back to the Wildcat APS and we evacuate off-world.”
    Atkins took over. “Helios has an asteroid field in close orbit. It’ll take some manoeuvring to get us into a good orbital position, but the Oregon will remain on standby. We’ll be monitoring your progress.”
    “Olsen will take command in the medical bay,” I said. “Captain Atkins, you have your orders on the bridge. Sixteen hours for prep and final checks, then we go into the simulators. Unless there are any questions, this briefing is over.”
    “There is one more thing,” Olsen said, holding his hand up to halt my breaking of the meeting. “Before we left Liberty Point , I copied Dr Kellerman’s personnel record. It includes his transmissions back to Alliance Command.”
    I remembered that the corporate man back at the Point mentioned them. His dismissive tone had made me immediately interested in them. If things on Helios did turn nasty, there might be something in them that I could use. Olsen removed a data-chip from his smock pocket, and passed it to me.
    “I would suggest you study these files,” he said, his expression dropping. “I have done so. Dr Kellerman was once a great man, but things might have changed.”
      
    The Oregon moved on through the blackness. The ship gradually slowed as she fell under the gravitational sway of Helios Star, and I knew that although I couldn’t physically feel it. Moving by conventional propulsion methods now, rather than the exotic Q-drive system.
    Aboard, we readied for the imminent mission.
    Despite her size, there was nowhere really to hide aboard the Oregon . There was always noise and activity somewhere. Even in the quieter hallways, or more secluded cargo holds, the constant whirring of the atmosphere scrubbers reminded me that we were in space. It wasn’t the same background noise as the Point – I’d grown accustomed to that – and it mildly rattled me.
    The vessel didn’t have a dedicated gun-range, or even a simulation-booth that could emulate one. The mainframe had storage of almost all entertainment and sports programmes over the last decade, but I didn’t want to fill my head with banalities before the drop.
    Instead, I went to the ship’s gymnasium. That was well-equipped; most Alliance starships had one. I did some cardiac exercise on the anti-grav running wheel. The physical exertion was good for overcoming the freezer aches. Sweat-drenched and mildly fatigued, I realised that it wasn’t clearing my mind as well as I had hoped.
    So I did the rounds.
      
    The bridge room was crammed with view-screens, holo-displays and monitors, and despite its physical size it still managed to feel small. The blast-shutters were open, the view-ports displaying the vista