Free Starbridge by A. C. Crispin Page A

eight craft first arrived, Joan slowed Desiree to a crawl, and our escorts decreased speed correspondingly. The question is, are they an honor guard, or are we prisoners?
    In the beginning we were flooded with transmissions, but of
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    course we couldn't reply, and they soon stopped. We're still approaching the planet, but at this rate it'll take us half a day to get there.
    There are four of us here on the bridge: Jerry, Paul, Joan, and me. A few of the crew members are still watching the screen in the galley, but most have gone back to work.
    I don't know where Rob is at the moment, and, frankly, that's a relief. He's beginning to suspect something is wrong.
    I wish I could get over the way I feel toward him! But no matter how hard I try, each time I see him it's like a jolt of electricity. Painful, but it makes me feel so alive.
    I keep telling myself that what I'm feeling isn't love, that I'm too young for that ... but it feels like love. Is it possible to really love someone when you're almost-seventeen?
    How do you know when it's really--
    Mahree stopped keying abruptly, her brown eyes widening. Only force of long habit made her hit the "save" button before she spoke. "Aunt Joan! One of the ships is moving closer!"
    The First Mate looked up even as she keyed the intercom. "Captain to the bridge, on the double!"
    Mahree and the others watched, mesmerized, as the little craft drifted closer . . . closer to them.
    "Range, 750 meters," Jerry finally announced. "I'm going to take a better look at those black marks." He adjusted the magnification factor on the forward viewscreen to focus in on the small black lines Mahree had noted earlier.
    Close up, the "lines" were actually strings of alien symbols. "At least we can be sure of one thing, now," Jerry said. "They have visual sensing organs, or they wouldn't have any reason to put external markings on their ships."
    The little vessel moved toward Desiree, stopping about 500 meters away.
    Mahree narrowed her eyes, straining to see whether it had viewports of any kind, but the flared nose of the craft appeared completely featureless. Behind her she could hear the babble of excited voices as crew members jammed onto the bridge.
    "It's moving again!" Paul Monteleon said, a moment later.
    As they watched, tracking its progress on the viewscreen, the alien vessel began a spiraling course, circling Desiree from bow to stern. Then, as it began a second circuit, a bright light splashed out from its bow, to shine on the bigger ship.
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    Joan gasped. "Are they aiming some kind of weapon?"
    Paul glanced at an instrument reading, then shook his head. "Just a light beam. They want a better look at us."
    As it drifted past on its second survey, the little ship paused four times, the first time at Desiree's bow; the next just forward of the galley, near the emergency suit lockers; a third time amidships, opposite the lifeboat hatch; and, finally, "below" the freighter's belly, opposite the cargo loading port.
    "Why are they stopping?" Raoul asked. Mahree stole a quick glance and saw him standing beside her aunt, his hand gripping his wife's shoulder, either for comfort or support, Mahree couldn't tell which.
    "They halted for nearly five seconds opposite each of our airlocks," Jerry muttered thoughtfully.
    "Do you think they're planning to board us?" Mahree barely recognized Simon Viorst's voice, shrill with fear. She glanced back at the crowd, but could not see the Bio Officer.
    "I doubt it," Raoul said sharply. "If they were hostile, surely they'd have fired on us by now."
    "They were probably measuring the size and shape of our airlocks," Mahree said. "If they intend to meet us face to face, they'll have to connect one of their ships to ours."
    As they watched, the little craft, indistinguishable from its companions, again took its place among those escorting Desiree. "Show's over, folks!" barked Raoul. "Let's clear out and free up the air in here. We'll inform you by intercom if