There was an ongoing argument about the shape of the xenocs. They were undoubtedly shorter than humans, and they probably had legs, because there were spiral stairwells, although the steps were very broad, difficult for bipeds. Lounges had long tables with large rounded stool-chairs inset with four deep ridges.
After the first fifteen minutes it was clear that all loose equipment had been removed. Lockers, with the standard dilating door, were empty. Every compartment had its fitted furnishings and nothing more. Some were completely bare.
On the second deck there were no large compartments, only long corridors lined with grey circles along the centre of the walls. Antonio used a dimple at the side of one, and it dilated to reveal a spherical cell three metres wide. Its walls were translucent, with short lines of colour slithering round behind them like photonic fish.
«Beds?» Schutz suggested. «There's an awful lot of them.»
Marcus shrugged. «Could be.» He moved on, eager to get down to the next deck. Then he slowed, switching his collar focus. Three of the hemispherical blisters were following him, two gliding along the wall, one on the floor. They stopped when he did. He walked over to the closest, and waved his sensor block over it. «There's a lot of electronic activity inside it,» he reported.
The others gathered round.
«Are they extruded by the wall, or are they a separate device?» Schutz asked.
Marcus switched on the block's resonance scan. «I'm not sure, I can't find any break in the composite round its base, not even a hairline fracture; but with their materials technology that doesn't mean much.»
«Five more approaching,» Jorge datavised. The blisters were approaching from ahead, three of them on the walls, two on the floor. They stopped just short of the group.
«Something knows we're here,» Antonio datavised.
Marcus retrieved the CAB xenoc interface communication protocol from a neural nanonics memory cell. He'd stored it decades ago, all qualified starship crew were obliged to carry it along with a million and one other bureaucratic lunacies. His communication block transmitted the protocol using a multi-spectrum sweep. If the blister could sense them, it had to have some kind of electromagnetic reception facility. The communication block switched to laserlight, then a magnetic pulse.
«Nothing,» Marcus datavised.
«Maybe the central computer needs time to interpret the protocol,» Schutz datavised.
«A desktop block should be able to work that out.»
«Perhaps the computer hasn't got anything to say to us.»
«Then why send the blisters after us?»
«They could be autonomous, whatever they are.»
Marcus ran his sensor block over the blister again, but there was no change to its electronic pattern. He straightened up, wincing at the creak of complaint his spine made at the heavy gravity. «OK, our hour is almost up anyway. We'll get back to Lady Mac and decide what stage two is going to be.»
The blisters followed them all the way back to the stairwell they'd used. As soon as they started walking down the broad central hallway of the upper deck, more blisters started sliding in from compartments and other halls to stalk them.
The airlock hatch was still open when they got back, but the exoskeletons were missing.
«Shit,» Antonio datavised. «They're still here, the bloody xenocs are here.»
Marcus shoved his fingers into the dimple. His heartbeat calmed considerably when the hatch congealed behind them. The lock cycled obediently, and the outer rectangle opened.
«Wai,» he datavised. «We need a lift. Quickly, please.»
«On my way, Marcus.»
«Strange way for xenocs to communicate,» Schutz datavised. «What did they do that for? If they wanted to make sure we stayed, they could have disabled the airlock.»
The MSV swooped over the edge of the shell, jets of twinkling flame shooting from its thrusters.
«Beats me,» Marcus datavised. «But we'll find out.»
Marcus called his council of war five hours later, once everyone had a chance to wash, eat, and rest. Opinion was a straight split: the crew wanted to continue investigating the xenoc ship, Antonio and his colleagues wanted to leave. For once Jorge had joined them, which Marcus considered significant. He was beginning to think young Karl might have been closer to the truth than was strictly comfortable.
«The dish is just rock with a coating of aluminium sprayed on,» Katherine said. «There's very little aluminium left now, most of it has boiled away. The tower is a pretty ordinary silicon/boron composite wrapped round a titanium load structure. The samples Wai cut off were very brittle.»
«Did you carbon-date them?» Victoria asked.
«Yeah.» She gave her audience a laboured glance. «Give or take a decade, it's thirteen thousand years old.»
Breath whistled out of Marcus's mouth. «Jesus.»
«Then they must have been rescued, or died,» Roman said. «There's nobody left over there. Not after that time.»
«They're there,» Antonio growled. «They stole our exoskeletons.»
«I don't understand what happened to the exoskeletons. Not yet. But any entity who can build a ship like that isn't going to go creeping round stealing bits of space armour. There has to be a rational explanation.»
«Yes! They wanted to keep us over there.»
«What for? What possible reason would they have for that?»
«It's a warship, it's been in battle. The survivors don't know who we are, if we're their old enemies. If they kept us there, they could study us and find out.»
«After thirteen thousand years, I imagine the war will be over. And where did you get this battleship idea from anyway?»
«It's a logical assumption,» Jorge said quietly.
Roman turned to Marcus. «My guess is that some kind of mechanoid picked them up. If you look in one of the lockers you'll probably find them neatly stored away.»
«Some automated systems are definitely still working,» Schutz said. «We saw the blisters. There could be others.»
«That seems the most remarkable part of it,» Marcus said. «Especially now we know the age of the thing. The inside of that ship was brand new. There wasn't any dust, any scuff marks. The lighting worked perfectly, so did the gravity, the humidity hasn't corroded anything. It's extraordinary. As if the whole structure has been in zero-tau. And yet only the shell is protected by the molecular-bonding-force generators. They're not used inside, not in the decks we examined.»
«However they preserve it, they'll need a lot of power for the job, and that's on top of gravity generation and environmental maintenance. Where's that been coming from uninterrupted for thirteen thousand years?»
«Direct mass-to-energy conversion,» Katherine speculated. «Or they could be tapping straight into the sun's fusion. Whatever, bang goes the Edenist He3 monopoly.»
«We have to go back,» Marcus said.
«NO!» Antonio yelled. «We must find the gold first. When that has been achieved, you can come back by yourselves. I won't allow anything to interfere with our priorities.»
«Look, I'm sorry you had a fright while you were over there. But a power supply that works for thirteen thousand years is a lot more valuable than a whole load of gold which we have to sell furtively,» Katherine said levelly.
«I hired this ship. You do as I say. We go after the gold.»
«We're partners, actually. I'm not being paid for this flight unless we strike lucky. And now we have. We've got the xenoc ship, we haven't got any gold. What does it matter to you how we get rich, as long as we do? I thought money was the whole point of this flight.»
Antonio snarled at her, and flung himself at the floor hatch, kicking off hard with his legs. His elbow caught the rim a nasty crack as he flashed through it.