Samir stooped over the computer console while Dr. Lukov was adjusting his equipment. Before them was suspended the unearthly metal sphere held up by multiple steel supports and thick cables from the ceiling. In the walkway surrounding the sphere, the Hyperion crew had set up multiple scanning instruments. Learning from their lesson the bridge, they had tuned down the pulse scanner and other similar devices from accidentally setting off the Andromedan systems. There were a few other scientists in the room working on the equipment, but most of the personnel were either with Dr. Terese attempting to learn how to operate the bridge or otherwise still exploring the vessel.

He was getting update reports constantly from multiple teams, already making progress on understanding the Andromedan language. Samir was bombarded with terms from linguists that he didn’t understand, but all he needed to hear was that the language further supported the theory that the Andromedans had remained more or less humanoid. A theory which was still frustratingly unconfirmed from the lack of any trace of the previous occupants, dead or otherwise.

He glanced down as another notification appeared before him. A screen popped up with information from the hangar bay. Apparently, four separate Andromedan shuttles were docked and were currently being cleared before the teams would move on to further sections of the ship. Samir sorted the report with all the rest. Sadly, he could not be on the Andromedan ship in person as protocol dictated he remain with the Hyperion. The recon room served as an adequate enough substitute anyway.

“It’ll just be a little while longer, Captain,” Dr. Lukov reported as he was adjusting a two-pronged device pointing towards the sphere. The contraption looked almost as a thin telescope except the end held two coiled pincer-shaped which extended about half a foot from the barrel. A long wire connected the sensor to a computer where the doctor worked.

“Is there any way to hurry the process?” Samir went over and watched over Dr. Lukov’s shoulder as the man worked.

“Believe me, Captain. We are already rushing through a dozen safety procedures. I wouldn’t have even brought our equipment here before Lt. Commander Terese’s team had a chance to decipher the language. At least then we’d have a proper idea of what we’re looking at.” Dr. Lukov tapped a few more keys on the computer while keeping track of several real-time data feeds Samir couldn’t even begin to understand.

Captain Singh studied the diminutive man. Dr. Lukov was a short man with curly black hair and a stout nose. Samir had only seen the man once or twice aboard the Hyperion. He only noted the man because it always seemed Dr. Lukov had his face buried in one book or another—even while walking. Even more odd, the awkward man still wore thick-framed glasses despite cheap surgeries being widely available for sight correction.

However eccentric he might have been, he was still one of the leading physicists of the Exchange and a top choice for the expedition.

“I’ve had some of my personnel mapping conduit lines from the sphere. Apparently, it’s connected to over a hundred emitters across the entire ship.”

“You think it might be what’s responsible for the particle shields?” Samir asked.

“I’d say it’s a very definite possibility.” The doctor squinted as one graph on the screen surged upwards. “What doesn’t make sense is the energy ratios.”

“What do you mean?”

Dr. Lukov pointed at one of the data feeds. “We’ve measured the energy output from the emitters to be approximately thirty-four decifols—about what’s needed to power a few small tertiary systems on the Hyperion. That’s not surprising since all you’re doing is basically containing a thin barrier of particles in a confined space—provided you work around the obvious difficulties of course. But…”

“But?” Samir glanced at the man.

Dr. Lukov shook his head in abject confusion. “If the preliminary measures are even half as accurate, the energy contained within this sphere is much more than what’s required to power those shields. Impossibly more.”

“What if it’s a buffer? A store of energy to draw on at any given time? That would make sense in case the generators were damaged.”

The doctor shook his head again, and his eyes drifted towards the ceiling. “Let’s say we increase those particle shields around the entire ship and leave them running for maybe… ten thousand years. That total energy would account for maybe a millionth of the total potential energy. It’s complete overkill, Captain. I can’t see it.”

Dr. Lukov gave Singh a grave look. “That sphere is containing about two hundred thousand times more energy than the Hyperion’s gravity core could put over a decade. And it’s the strangest thing—I don’t think this is a reactor. There’s no chamber, no reagents, not even a hint of a conventional containment buffer. As far as I can tell, the sole purpose of this device is the storage of an energy content enough to level a planet.”

“A weapon then?” Samir stood up and took a long at the sphere.

The doctor threw up his hands. “So far, our mapping shows this device is only connected to the emitters, plus a few other systems we haven’t had time to identify. If it is a weapon, it is unlike anything the Milky Way has ever seen.”

Samir put his hands in his pockets and approached the sphere, just stopping short of the railing. I wish we had more time. Theoretically, they could spend decades researching this device. There were components that could innovate whole scientific fields and revolutionize several schools of thought. Despite the Andromedan vessel seemingly being clunky, their line of development had been entirely different from the Milky Way. Their approach to solving the problems of galactic civilization would change the face of the Free Exchange—Samir knew that already.

Who knows? Maybe they would get lucky and the signal would fall on deaf ears. Samir didn’t believe it for a moment, but one could still hold out a flicker of irrational hope. Every passing second was precious and there was so much to do in so little time.

“Captain, if I may suggest something.” Dr. Lukov stood up from equipment. “There has been something that has been bothering me.”

“What is it?”

“It appears to me this ship might never have been intended to come to the Milky Way. At the very least, we can assume it didn’t account for being attacked. If the quantum signal was nothing more than a distress beacon—and it was never intended to be set off—then that begs a few questions.”

“Such as what exactly was this ship doing with the quantum computer in the first place.” Samir completed the thought.

He had given it some thought himself. The fact was there was no known technology that could replicate a quantum computer. While the Andromedan’s theoretically might possess such a device, there would be no telling which frequency the signal emitted without the original. The more he thought about it; the more he became certain that the quantum signal came from the original.

But that only raised the same question again. An entire galaxy of civilization and that last tether to Earth happened to be on this ship? That was far too much of a coincidence.

A notification came in from Sergeant Barnes. We found it, sir. Samir swiped the image away and turned towards Dr. Lukov. “Speak of the devil. We’ve located the device. Alert me when you’re ready for the first set of scans.”

Dr. Lukov nodded and went back to his equipment while Samir waved his hand and pulled up an interface. It was a simple matter of swapping holographic generators to the one attached to Barnes’ team. There was a moment of complete darkness as the hologram stream loaded in and the environment could be replicated.

Samir blinked, and he stood in a long hallway much like the one they had first come into when they had entered the vessel. Surrounded by marines, Sergeant Barnes stepped forward.

“The quantum computer is in there, sir.” Barnes pointed toward an open doorway.

Stepping through, Samir went into a dark maintenance room. It was mostly barren save for a wall panel that had been carefully ripped from the hull, exposing wires and cabling. Rerouting a power conduit, several sturdy cables fed into the quantum computer which blinked with a small blue light in the darkness. The bulky computer was in the shape of a large box with only a manual switch and a touchscreen needed to turn it on.

A thin layer of dust covered the metal from the years it had spent aboard the Andromedan ship, but what shocked Samir was the computer was almost pristine. Not a scratch or a smudge had made its mark on the device, despite being nearly three thousand years old. It seemed as brand new as the day it had been built.

The quantum computer had traveled galaxies twice and witnessed the development of a civilization, and yet it seemed like it had only been yesterday since it had left with the Herodotus. Samir knelt down next to the device, wishing that he was actually there to place his hand on it. It was a piece of history that connected humanity across eons, and it seemed criminal not to be in its presence.

But something about this is wrong. Samir thought as he studied the device. Even if the quantum computer was stored in a museum and preserved from the elements, time should’ve still taken its toll. Three thousand years should have made some sort of mark, but here it was, perfect and unblemished. As much as he wanted to investigate further, that would have to wait until he could afford to assign a team to it. The remarkable condition of the quantum computer was only a smaller mystery compared to the rest of the ship.

“Orders, sir?” Sergeant Barnes came into the room.

Samir stood up from the device and turned towards the youth. The black-haired boy waited with an eagerness that had long departed Singh. The Captain couldn’t help but smile at that. Barnes believed he was on an adventure, and really, he was not far off from the truth. There was something unmistakably human in this moment. For whatever reason, a call had been sent and now it had finally been properly answered. The bridge between two galaxies had now been crossed. Perhaps Singh had that innocence beaten out of him, but he still couldn’t help but appreciate it in Barnes anyway.

“You may do the honors, Sergeant.” Singh stepped aside and gestured towards the manual switch.

The youth took a moment to understand what Singh was saying. Looking over to the quantum compiler, he gave a thankful nod to Singh and stepped forward to the device. Grasping the switch with one hand, Barnes hesitated. Samir crossed his arms and waited. A chapter of history had been closed and now a new one would begin—and no one had any reasonable idea about what could come next. Barnes flipped the switch back and the impossible beacon flickered off for the last time.