“Look, Ivan, we’re all equally in the dark. But based on what I said yesterday, I don’t think this is an attack of some kind. Maybe it’s an attempt to communicate. I think it’s a fair bet that whatever engineered this isn’t human, so we can’t safely assume human motivations, but we can expect consistency.” Dr. Kemp tapped the palm of his hand with the marker while he considered. “If it’s taking care not to cause undue harm, I can’t see it suddenly changing course and becoming like a movie monster.”

“Unless it didn’t want me to be spaced before the conversion was complete.”

“Okay, granted, but then the best strategy would be to go after everyone at once. And to disable the ship quickly. However alien the intelligence behind this is, we still should expect it to act in a sane, consistent manner.”

“You’ve decided it’s alien?” Ivan cocked his head and smiled slightly.

“Haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s where I’d put my money.”

18.Strategy Meeting

18.Strategy Meeting

Dr. Kemp looked around the table. All the ship’s bridge staff were present. Several muttered conversations provided a low susurrus of sound, barely above the level of the air system. Captain Jennings slowly stirred his coffee, gathering his thoughts before he looked up.

“Record this meeting, please, Astra. For the record, present are: myself, Andrew Jennings, captain of the Mad Astra; First Mate Dante Aiello; pilot Albert Micoroski; co-pilot and purser Lita Generus; Charles Kemp, ship’s doctor; and Duncan MacNeil, chief engineer. The purpose of this meeting is to discuss the unexplained transmutation of crewman Ivan Pritchard into a being made of metal.”

The captain looked around the table. No one spoke. He gestured to Kemp. “Please start the ball rolling, doctor.”

Kemp played with the documents on his tablet, unexpectedly nervous. This meeting would go on the record. Every word, every document, every hesitation might end up being analyzed for years by—he wasn’t really sure by whom.

“During an exploration of a small asteroid where a density anomaly had been detected, Pritchard was exposed to an unknown substance, which coated his suit arm. The crew removed the suit arm and got Pritchard into the airlock. There was no obvious indication that the substance had penetrated the suit, and a medical examination of Pritchard revealed nothing unexpected.”

Kemp paused to flip the document on his tablet. He had made notes, to keep his narrative focused more than anything else. He knew he would have a tendency to wander into conjecture otherwise.

“The next morning, the subject woke up with his arm partly converted to metal…” The retelling was almost hypnotic, and Kemp found himself having to avoid going into a sing-song tone of voice as he continued. His report stuck to observations and facts; no analysis, no theorizing.

Finally, he was done, and he looked to the captain.