Samson nodded. He was not so naive as to have pulled them out without checking, but it was their first time working together, so he let it pass. He had accepted that he would have to not only prove himself, but also separate himself from the cloud he had arrived under.
‘Looks clear.’ Price pulled on the bottom crate and slid them both out into the cargo hold. He set them beside one another, then worked his way around the lid with a small handheld scanner to make sure they were safe to open. ‘Not showing any explosives. They’re all yours.’
Samson flipped the latch on the first crate and opened the lid. It was lined with contoured foam to protect delicate objects. It was a modern storage crate, made of rugged polymer with sturdy latches—a type of crate that didn’t come cheap, and would only be used for expensive objects. It looked completely out of place on a ship like the Bounty, making Samson wonder what it was doing here.
He carefully lifted away some of the foam to reveal the contents. It was confusing, and anticlimactic at the same time. The object in question was a chunk of metal, twisted and jagged like a piece of crash debris. Something about it looked odd, though. It was like no alloy Samson had ever seen. It took a considerable application of willpower not to reach in and touch it. He gave himself a moment to think. It was odd that a piece of scrap would be put in such secure packaging. What kind of metal was it?
‘Price,’ Samson said, ‘what do you make of this?’
Price raised his eyebrows. ‘It looks unusual. Don’t think I’ve seen a metal like that before. The scan came back clear for explosives, so I don’t think it’s a bomb.’
Samson pointed at the piece of metal, which in itself looked odd enough—it appeared to be polished, but it was unreflective. More curiously, he noticed what looked like etchings on one of the surfaces. The script—if that was what it was—was utterly bizarre, making him wonder if it was writing at all, and not just some random decoration. He was unable to make out anything that looked like grammar: words, sentences, punctuation, or such. It looked utterly… alien.
He couldn’t believe he was even entertaining the notion. Alien. It seemed too far-fetched to be true. In all the years humanity had been exploring the galaxy, they’d not found even a trace of non-human life. Of course, there were some cranks who maintained the Nexus Current had been engineered by an advanced civilisation, but no sane person believed that.
‘Is that… writing?’ Samson said.
Price followed the line of Samson’s fingers, and his eyes widened. ‘I… uh, well, that’s not really for me to say, sir.’
Samson stared at it a moment longer before turning his attention to the other crate. He opened it up and pulled away the top layer of protective foam. His jaw dropped when he saw what it contained. A glowing orb was nestled in protective grey foam. Its surface looked solid, glass-like, but there was a swirling, greenish-yellow light contained within. The light was captivating, and surged between the two colours. Samson tried to make sense of it, to ascribe a purpose or use, but he couldn’t. It might merely have been a decoration, but there was something about it that said otherwise to Samson. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what its purpose might be, but there was something utterly alien about it.
‘Scan them both again,’ Samson said. ‘Scan for anything that might be dangerous, not just explosives. Whatever you can think of.’
Price set about his task, leaving Samson to stand staring at the sphere, wondering what in hell it might be. Where in hell it might have come from.
‘Scans are all clear,’ Price said. ‘I can’t tell you anything about them. Anything at all. It’s almost like they aren’t even there. The good news is they’re not registering as any type of danger. At least not any type that the scanners can detect.’
Samson nodded, not sure whether or not he considered that to be good news. ‘Samson to Sidewinder.’
‘Go for Sidewinder.’
‘We’ve found something unusual here, Captain,’ Samson said, doing his best to contain the sense of giddiness that was growing within him. ‘It’s a glowing sphere. About thirty centimetres in diameter, and there’s also a piece of metal that’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. All scans for dangerous materials have come back clear.’
‘Any ideas of what they might be?’ Captain Stettin said.
He briefly considered outlining his thoughts on the etching, but decided she could come to her own opinion on that when she saw them. ‘Not a whole lot,’ Samson said. ‘The sphere is… pretty unique. The metal fragment is too. I don’t know what to tell you, Captain. They’re strange. Securely packaged and hidden in a secret shielded compartment. Arlen clearly valued them greatly.’
Samson could hear Stettin sigh. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘Have Lieutenant Harper run another full set of scans on the objects. If they’re clear again we’ll bring them back here for a better look.’
‘Aye, Captain,’ Samson said. ‘Lieutenant Harper, did you hear that?’
‘Yes, sir. On my way to you.’
Samson turned back to look at the glowing orb. He didn’t want to admit it even to himself, but every instinct he had said these objects were not made by human beings. He didn’t know where the thought had come from, but it was in his head now, and he couldn’t shake it off. Alien artefacts would be valuable enough to make a man like Arlen open fire on them, the lust for riches overwhelming any common sense. Whatever these things were, and whoever made them, Samson was very interested to know where Arlen’s last port of call had been.
Life on the Frontier had suddenly got very interesting. Perhaps it wasn’t the worst place to be after all.
4
‘Harper’s scans tally with the initial one,’ Samson said. ‘There’s no sign of anything dangerous. At least, nothing
