by P P Corcoran
The scans from orbit around Ross 128 b, as well as those taken both on their approach and groundside, indicated that there was no sentient life left on the planet to appreciate the remarkable sight or sound of what had clearly been a focal point for the people who once inhabited the massive city spread out for kilometers in every direction. Hundreds of such cities dotted the planet’s four continents, many of them arrayed along the extensive coastlines, and they all seemed to have been constructed out of the same material as the monolith—titanium and polymers. Every city was devoid of any sign of their creators, overgrown by vegetation—to the point of obfuscation in some cases—by a wide array of thick flora. The only fauna they had found on the planet was a short list of hearty and predatory insect life, plus an entire ecosystem of pale-green, tardigrade-like organisms the team had affectionately labeled “beasties.” The creatures ranged in size from microscopic to about thirty kilos, appearing to subsist on every kind of vegetation in sight, and they paid the landing party little or no heed at all.
They were everywhere.
“You saw the data yourself, Commander,” Lieutenant Sparks, the resident botanist, said. His short, tight, red curls were a flash of color inside his helmet. He pushed a beastie aside with his boot as the thirty-centimeter organism inched towards him from beneath a nearby vehicle. “Whatever sentient race used to be here, assuming there was one, seems to have been replaced by these guys at some point in the distant past.”
“Assuming there was one?” Lieutenant Akashi asked, her voice full of sarcasm. “Who do you think built the cities? The trees? Or maybe it was the beasties.” Akashi held advanced degrees in both biochemistry and chemical engineering. She was also the smart-ass of the group, delighting in wisecracks almost as much as she did chemistry. Raised in Tokyo, she had a peculiar sense of humor that always seemed to elude Ramirez’s sensibilities, but she was one of the smartest people he’d ever met.
“I’m just saying that we don’t know,” Sparks retorted. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d conclude that the inhabitants were wiped out by the beasties, but that doesn’t jibe either. Any race capable of putting up satellites like the ones we saw should be capable of dealing with these things.... Cohen’s right ...” he added “it had to be a plague of some kind that wiped out the higher life forms, and the beasties filled the vacuum afterward.”
“Again... maybe?” Ramirez said, looking to where one of the gray, puffy, insect-like creatures undulated slowly, warming itself beneath the red sun. It was a half-meter long and looked all the world like a giant tardigrade, excepting for the color and the fact that it had five segments rather than the four exhibited by the microbial versions back on Earth. Theorists had long speculated that the bizarre and exceedingly hearty life form had possibly entered Earth’s ecosystems via a meteorite or other celestial body after impacting the planet’s surface. It was well known they could survive just about anywhere. Like those on earth, the beasties’ rounded faces folded inward like the flaps of a male orangutan, and their cylindrical mouths held small, bony white stylets for chewing up any vegetation they could reach. Their bodies were boneless, and they looked more like swollen caterpillars than anything else.
“They’re kinda cute, in a horrifying sort of way,” Cohen added. “Will we be taking some home with us?”
“Looking for a new pet?” Akashi asked with a chuckle. “You could call it Spot and teach it to fetch,” she added.
Cohen turned and rolled her eyes at Akashi through her faceplate.
“I suspect we will,” Ramirez said, hoping to cut off more banter. The two were always at it in one way or another. “It’s part of why we came, after all.... I just never expected to find such the flora and fauna on humanity’s first visit to an Earth-like planet, let alone the lost civilization we have here.”
“We all figured it would be water, rocks, and maybe some basic vegetation,” Akashi said.
“The questions alone will keep scientists talking for decades, never mind whatever we decide to take back with us,” Cohen replied, stepping away from the beastie that had apparently taken a liking to her boot.
“Captain?” Ramirez said, “Do you copy?”
“Affirmative, Ramirez,” Captain Abimbola replied, her voice washed with only a thin layer of static. “Go ahead.” She was an astrophysicist of the highest caliber and one of the best astronauts to come out of the Global Union’s Earth Space and Research Agency in the past thirty years. She was the golden child of ESRA, instrumental in planning the eleven-Light-year-journey to Ross 128, and had been the natural selection to command the mission when it came time to make the decision. She’d even had the full confidence and support of the GU’s Council.
“We’re about two klicks from the lander,” Ramirez reported. “This city is abandoned, just like the scans showed.” Ramirez lifted his eyes skyward, looking to where the Patrocles was in stationary orbit above them.
“We’ve been monitoring,” Abimbola replied. Her tone was calm and cool, as if the discovery of both life and a lost civilization on a new world was the sort of thing she’d done her entire life. “What’s your recommendation?”
“Send down the other team down and have them set up in that wide delta along the coast south of here. They can start gathering data and specimens in a more natural setting while we do the same here in an urban one. They get the flora and fauna. We’ll gather as much anthropological and archeological data and objects as we can fit in the lander.” He shifted his gaze to Soon, the mission anthropologist. “Is that alright with you?”
“Yes, sir!” Soon said, his face beaming through the faceplate. He hadn’t said a word since they’d landed, simply taking images and making notes on his tablet as they walked through the city. The running joke was, Soon preferred dead people to live ones.
“We’ll relocate the lander and set up our environment shelters at the base of this big sculpture,” Ramirez continued. “We can use it as our base of operations. I suspect we can gather an inordinate amount of data in the two weeks that we have down here. I also recommend that Patrocles alter orbit and begin slow passes to do as much geophysical scanning as possible. It will put us out of contact intermittently, but I think we’re relatively save down here.”
“Copy that,” Abimbola said. “Stand by.”
“Roger that,” Ramirez replied, trying to rub his neck again. His headache was sharpening a bit, but not any worse that a sinus headache.
“I can’t help but wonder if we’re standing on the first colonized world of Terra,” Sparks said.
“Possibly,” Akashi added. “It would take years to swap out the helium in the atmo with nitrogen, but that’s just an exercise in engineering when it comes right down to it.”
“And the indigenous flora and fauna?” Cohen asked.
“Earth is crowded,” Ramirez said cautiously. “And you know as well as I that the colonies on Luna and Mars are far from being long term and self-sustaining. This place is a green world with water on it.... Fortunately,” he added with a sigh of relief, “such decisions are light years above my pay grade. I’m just a dumb dirt-digger.”
“Ramirez,” Captain Abimbola broke in, “your recommendation is approved. “Murphy’s team is prepping their lander now and should make landfall in a few hours. Get set up as quickly as possible and report in every two hours.” There was another pause. “One more thing.... I want Richards to do a full sweep of the area out to a few hundred meters before anyone goes wandering off. Let’s make sure there aren’t any obvious surprises.”
“Yes, Captain,” Ramirez said. “We should have the shelters set up before the sun goes down, if we hump it.”
“Understood,” Abimbola replied. “Patrocles out.”
Ramirez looked to where Lieutenant Richards stood, gently poking at a cat-sized beastie with the tip of his rifle. Everyone had side-arms as a precaution, but Richards, a marine pilot and biologist, was the only one of them with an autorifle and combat training. “Take two with you w
hen you do the sweep” Ramirez said.
Richards nodded and gave a sloppy salute. “You got it, sir,” he said, slinging the rifle.
Ramirez turned to the rest of his team. “Well, you heard the lady. Let’s get moving.”
#
Part 2 - Realization
January 19th, 2098 – Ross 128 b
“You’re the third person to complain about a headache in two days, Commander,” Cohen said, shining a small light Ramirez’s eyes. “How bad is it?”
They were inside the medical module that opened into one side of the main habitation module where a secondary air lock and the mess hall was housed. Each module, made primarily of a tough, carbon fiber material, could be sealed and self-contained in an emergency. Rigidity was sustained by narrow channels of high-pressure atmosphere that lined the interior in a crisscross pattern that could be inflated and deflated as necessary. A variety of equipment and cabinetry lined the module, all of it done in a very sterile white that made up the entire seven-module habitat.
“Barely noticeable but there,” he replied, leaning forward on the collapsible examination table. “On and off again since shortly after we entered the city. Who else?”
“Soon and Akashi ... and they said the same thing.” Cohen placed a small monitor to the side of Ramirez’s throat, just over the jugular, and watched the readouts for a few seconds.
“Do you think it’s environmental?” Ramirez asked.
“All seals remain unbroken on both the suits and the modules. And all decon protocols have been followed to the letter, so I’d have to say probably not, unless we missed something really, really small. But I’ve been checking the air every thirty minutes, and I take blood samples whenever they return to the modules.”
“You should ask the others if they’ve noticed anything and just haven’t mentioned it. You know what a hard-asses Sparks and Richards are.”
“I’ll check with Sparks as soon as he returned from his sweep. He and Soon were investigating what they thought might be an arboretum of some kind about a kilometer to the southeast. And I’ll check on Richards once we’re done here.”
Ramirez nodded. “Could it be from radiation, maybe?” he offered.
“Negative.” Cohen shook her head. “That bloody, great monstrosity in the sky might be ugly to our eyes, but what we receive groundside from it is actually a little less intense than what we get from Sol back home. And the suits still apply.”
“Well, maybe its just stress. We are on an alien planet, after all.”
“These readouts would seem to agree with your assessment, Commander,” Cohen said, motioning for him to get off the table.
The headache at the base of Ramirez’ skull suddenly intensified with a sharp spike and then faded. He winced at the pain and then sighed as it dissipated like the bursting of a bubble.
“Are you alright?” Cohen asked, clearly concerned.
Ramirez stood up straight and took a few breaths.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “I am. It’s gone ... like it lit up for just a moment and then disappeared completely, as if it had never been there.”
We wish words... the voice, although that term didn’t really apply, filtered into Ramirez’s thoughts, almost as if he’d thought them himself, but he knew he hadn’t.
“Did you hear that?” Cohen asked, looking around the module.
Ramirez nodded, and he looked spooked. “Yeah. ‘We wish words,’ right?”
Cohen nodded.
“Hey,” Richards said, poking his head around the module entrance, a sandwich held in one hand. “Did you two just hear something in your head?” He had a truly perplexed look upon his face.
“Commander, I think you better get out here,” Akashi’s voice came over the speakers spread throughout the habitat.
Ramirez moved quickly over to the comm panel on the wall and hit the actuate button.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
There was a long pause.
“I’m not sure .... I think so?” It was Soon’s voice this time. He sounded a little worried but not frightened. “You better bring Richards, sir.”
“I think we’re good out here,” Akashi added. She’d been just outside the habitat, taking air samples. “But I wouldn’t dawdle.”
“Copy that,” Ramirez said. “We’re coming out ASAP.” He released the comm actuator.
“Richards, gear up and grab the rifle” Ramirez said, brushing past him. “You’re coming too, Cohen,” he ordered over his shoulder. He marched across the mess and into the suit bay where everyone’s environmental suits hung along the walls.
All three of them suited up as if the habitat was losing atmosphere, checked each other’s seals, and then stepped into the primary airlock in record time. None of them said a word, but there were plenty of worried glances exchanged as the seal closed behind them.
“It followed us from the arboretum, sir,” Soon said as Ramirez, Cohen, and Richards exited the outer hatch. “And it’s just been sitting there since we got here, as if it was waiting for something.”
“Or someone,” Akashi added a bit ominously. She was seated in the rover, her hands on the controls, staring at something on the ground just beyond the hood. Soon and Sparks stood off to the side a half-dozen meters, looking down at the same spot.
When Ramirez stepped around rover, he saw what they were looking at. He gasped in surprise, stopping dead in his tracks.
It was the mother of all beasties, over two meters long, two-thirds of a meter thick, and with a head the size of basketball. As Ramirez came into view, it raised its strange-looking head and lifted its first segment off the ground, pointing its mouth straight at Ramirez.
Richards immediately raised the rifle reflexively, aiming down the barrel at the beastie’s face.
“Easy, Richards,” Ramirez said, placing his hand on the barrel and lowering it gently. He turned to and locked eyes with Richards. “Stand over there,” he motioned to a spot a few meters off. “Where you won’t have a problem with line of fire.”
Richards nodded, a stern expression on his face.
“Don’t do anything unless I say so or if it attacks anyone. Understood?”
Again, Richards nodded.
You hear. We think.
The words hit Ramirez’ brain as clear as a bell, and he saw that everyone jumped at them.
Ramirez realized that everyone could hear the “voice,” and there was little doubt that the big beastie was the source.
Take time to learn thoughts. Will take more. No more head pain.
“It’s talking to us,” Cohen said.
“Apparently,” Ramirez said. “It seems our mission of exploration has just become a first contact mission.” The implications staggered Ramirez’s imagination.
“Holy shit,” Akashi whispered, but everyone heard her through the comms.
“You can understand me?” Ramirez said, taking several steps towards the beastie. He stopped only a few meters away and went down to one knee, getting on an eye to ... well ... snout level.
You hear. We think, it repeated.
Ramirez didn’t know what to say next. They’d gone over some scenarios about meeting space-faring races and how to handle any sort of contact, but this was different. Was this a primitive species with a rudimentary language, something on par with human intelligence? Or was it something greater?
We think like you, it said.
It had heard his thoughts.
“Everyone,” Ramirez said slowly. “Do us all a favor and try not to think of anything aggressive towards the beastie or which might compromise to the mission.”
“It can read our thoughts, can’t it?” Cohen said.
Ramirez nodded slowly. The mission just became a whole lot more complicated.
“Cohen,” Ramirez said. “Would you go back inside and let Patrocles know what’s going on here. Don’t alarm them, but they need to know. Tell them I have a Level 4 Omega situation on my hands, but that I don’t expect
trouble. Abimbola will know what it means. And think quietly,” he added.
“Yes, Captain,” Cohen replied as he moved back towards the airlock.
Ramirez stared at the beastie for a moment, and it looked like it was staring right at him, although it didn’t have any eyes. “We come from another world,” Ramirez said. “And we come in peace.” He couldn’t believe those words just passed his lips. Was this really happening?
Other world. Yes. Peace. Yes. Home here.
“This is your home?” Ramirez asked, feeling a bit confused by the conceptual way it injected thoughts into his mind.
Yes. Home.
“Are you the only one who can speak to us?” Ramirez asked.
Yes-no.
That didn’t make any sense to Ramirez.
I think. Yes. No pain. Others speak. Some. Yes pain. I speak you now. No pain. You we learn.
Ramirez nodded his head. It made sense. It was the one speaking, and there were others of its kind who could send their thoughts to the landing party. It might explain why some of them had experienced the headaches. He assumed their telepathic communication required the beasties to send in a manner humans could perceive. Or humans needed to adapt somehow to receive the messages. Or both. And only the big one was able to communicate as clearly as it obviously could without causing the humans any discomfort.
I and we same think, it said.
Ramirez cocked his head to the side, not understanding. Did “we” mean the beastie and the humans, or all of the beasties combined?
“I think it’s a sort of collective, sir,” Richards said. “When we speak to it, we may be speaking to all of them ... and vice versa.”
Ramirez nodded his head.
Why here? it asked.
“We’re explorers,” Ramirez said. “We came to see what this world was like.”
You want live here? it asked.
The question hung in Ramirez’s thoughts. It’s ability to communicate with him was already improving. It was adapting quickly to alien minds.
