by C W Briar
Nick tipped a lopsided grimace at him, letting Varik know he didn’t want to have this conversation. “The politicians push for this stuff. I know you hate politics, but they’re the ones who ultimately pay us, so just deal with it.”
“Sorry, how could I forget?” Varik apologized sarcastically. “It’s not enough to explore the most significant find of all time. It’s all about winning the race for ol’ red, white, and blue. We gotta scratch Uncle Sam’s beard, right?”
Nick shot glances over his shoulders. “Watch what you’re saying.”
“I am. I toned down what I wanted to say.”
“No, I mean the president has his CIA bulldogs here around the clock. They’ve got their noses so deep in NASA’s business, I can’t fart without them knowing it.”
He checked over his shoulders again. “It’s not been announced publicly yet, but Russia moved up their launch date by ten days. You have two weeks before they join you, and I agree with Washington and London that we need to get all potentially lethal tech out of Angel One before Kashnikov can get his hands on it.”
Kashnikov was Russia’s president and a throwback to the unpredictable, militaristic leaders of decades past.
“This is why I prefer science,” Varik said. “It’s so much purer and simpler than politics.”
“Reality is messier than a laboratory.” Nick shooed him with his fingers. “Go get your suit on. I’m dying to see what’s on that ship.”
So was Varik. At that reminder, his curiosity and excitement overwhelmed his frustrations. “You really know how to sweet-talk me.”
Nick smiled. “Godspeed, Varik.”
***
In the final moments before the spacewalk, all chatter on the radios went quiet. Everyone involved in the mission, both in orbit and on Earth, waited to see if the suits would respond correctly to the vacuum of space. Varik heard only the hiss of the depressurizing airlock and the beat of his pulse. The plastic smell of his spacesuit filled his nose.
“Pressurization is at zero,” Varik said over the radio, breaking the silence. “My air is still good. Janice, what’s your status?”
“I’m good,” she responded from within her own suit. She tapped twice on her visor.
“Ishikawa?”
“No issues here.”
“Excellent. Houston, we’re ready.”
Nick responded, “All right. Stay put, Unity.” A few seconds later, presumably after affirming system readiness with the flight director, Nick announced, “Mission is go.”
Those three words thrilled Varik just as much as the booster thrust had when they took off from Earth.
All three astronauts grabbed the bar over their heads, then Varik flipped the door’s safety override and pressed the control button. The indicator light changed from yellow to red, and the door opened in a slow, silent yawn. Their target—the mottled, iridescent alien craft—loomed nearby. It was orbiting Earth with them at five hundred kilometers per minute.
Varik leaned out of the airlock. “I see Angel One.”
He could also see Aquila clinging to the ship’s back. NASA and the European Space Agency, ESA, had designed and launched Aquila within a mere twenty months of finding Angel One. The unmanned ship had operated as a rocket-powered claw machine that grabbed the interstellar prize and brought it back from the asteroid belt.
“Houston, are you receiving my helmet’s camera feed?”
A delay, then, “Affirmative. We’re watching with anticipation.”
At long last, here we go.
He bounded out of Unity and soared over the wide, blue expanse of the Pacific. The artifact hung gleaming against the even wider expanse of black space. Angel One was aptly named. Its wings stood out at its sides, and sunlight reflected from its surface in an array of colors.
“She’s beautiful,” Varik said.
“Yes, she is,” Nick replied through the spacesuit’s speaker. “Slow your approach, lover boy.”
Varik realized how quickly he was gliding toward the alien craft. His jump was on target, but unless he corrected his speed, his arrival at the alabaster hull would be a crash. He pressed his thumbs against his ring fingers, activating a short burst from his jetpack’s reverse thrusters. His body cocked sideways, and his velocity slowed.
Angel One filled his visor. While en route, everything seemed familiar, giving him déjà vu from his hours in the simulator.
Then he touched the ship.
To his surprise, the hull deformed like gelatin under his fingers and toes. Waves rippled through the surface until, as if suddenly drawn tight, the material stiffened and reformed its original shape. The shuddering caused Varik to slip. He slid along the vessel, the difficulty of weightlessness vividly apparent as he tried to gain traction. Only by using his jetpack and catching his boot in a groove did he finally stop.
“Varik, are you okay?” Nick asked. In the back of his mind, Varik realized the question was being repeated. He had been too occupied to answer the first time.
“Affirmative, Houston. I’m fine.”
“Your heart rate shot up, and you were cursing into the mic. What’s going on?”
“Sorry, I just got surprised. The ship felt … rubbery or organic, like I tried to get traction on a whale carcass. It’s rigid now, though.”
A female voice came through the speaker. “This is Janice. Varik, am I clear to come over?”
Varik turned his back on Angel One and faced Unity. Janice and Ishikawa waved from the airlock doorway. “Yeah, Jan. Aim for me. It’s easier to grab hold where the ship widens.”
“Okay. Coming to you now.”
Janice leapt out over the earth, followed a few seconds later by Ishikawa. From Varik’s perspective, they looked like giants sliding over the surface of Asia. Wide, circular clouds, the telltale sign of a cyclone, churned off the shore of India. From orbit, even a violent storm looked beautiful and calm.
“Don’t look down if you’re afraid of heights,” Varik said.
“Har, har,” Ishikawa replied.
“Earth looks stunning from up here.” He felt like they had the entire world to themselves. “Everything is serene. I could get used to this.”
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Nick said. “I don’t want you taking off your helmet and finding out how welcoming space really is.”
“No worries, Houston.”
“Okay. Unity, we’re putting your audio on public broadcast now. Remember to switch to the private channel if there’s anything you don’t want Moscow or the general public to hear.” After a pause, Nick said, “This is Houston. Commander Babel, care to share what it’s like up there?”
Varik collapsed into his thoughts. The moment had come. He had long wondered how many months Neil Armstrong spent pondering his words for the lunar proclamation. The “one small step” line still reverberated almost a century later, and Varik’s next words would be no less significant.
After clearing his throat and drawing in a long breath, he said, “If we, the people of Earth, are united by science, then nothing is impossible for us. The Unity crew has boarded Angel One.” Varik waited for the applause in ground control to die down in his headset. “Widowicz and Ishikawa are almost to me. I see no doors or windows, an indication the spacecraft was possibly unmanned.”
Varik knocked on the hull with his gloved knuckles. It felt hard but thin and hollow, like a pane of glass. “The exterior of Angel One is made from an unfamiliar material. It’s mottled and glossy. Even more unusual is its rigidity. At first touch, it rippled significantly, but now it’s as solid as titanium. Man, the folks in materials analysis are going to have a field day with this stuff.”
“That could explain the unusual readings from Aquila when it docked with Angel One,” Ishikawa said. He and Janice had almost reached the ship.
“You’re right. I’m going to— Hold on! It’s changing again.”
The metallic structure began to dilate at the spot where Varik had knocked on it. The dimple gaped and
widened to a round hole large enough for them to fit through. Varik stuck his head in the hole and shined his helmet lamp inside. He gulped air from his suit, unsure of how long he had been holding his breath.
“Houston, are you getting this?”
“We are. It’s incredible.”
The other two astronauts arrived, and they all crowded the opening. Their lights reflected off the white interior wall and silvery, grate-like floor and ceiling. Varik glanced down the throat of the ship, boring a tunnel through the darkness with his lamp.
“We seem to have activated an opening,” Varik said. “We can see the interior of the ship’s neck. It’s not pressurized, nor do we see any signs of life yet, but it does look like it could have been manned at one time. Perhaps it still is.”
Varik clambered forward, slowly, until his torso was inside the hole. He searched for movement. Something latched onto his spacesuit at the hip. Varik recoiled, flailing slowly and awkwardly in the zero gravity.
“I’m sorry,” Janice said, laughter tinging her accent. “I didn’t mean to startle you, Commander. I just wanted to remind you not to touch anything that looks biological. The last thing we need is to pass along a dangerous bacterium to Earth.”
Varik let out a strong sigh. His breath reflected off his visor and tousled the front of his hair.
“Too bad,” Ishikawa interjected. “I was hoping to keep the flesh-eating parasites as pets.”
“Unity?” Nick said. “That reminds me. Did you bring the Taser?”
If Varik could have beaten his forehead against his faceplate, he would have. How many times had Nick regurgitated this topic? After broadcasting himself clearing his throat, Varik said, “Uh, no, Houston. I left it in the ship.”
“You do realize you are potentially endangering yourself and your crew, correct? There may be hostile entities inside.”
“So be it.” Varik pulled the rest of his body into Angel One. “Unity questions the wisdom of carrying a weapon while making first contact with a more advanced species. I would rather risk my life than risk this moment.”
“Suit yourself, but note NASA recommends you be prepared.”
Ishikawa, the crew’s resident fanatic of classic science fiction and horror, said, “Varik, keep your mouth closed when you meet ’em. You don’t want them laying any babies in your chest.”
The stationary helmet prevented Varik from casting a sideways glance at the specialist. “Ishikawa, I suspect Houston and Director Phillips are not keen on their astronauts recording frivolous banter at this crucial moment.”
“Sorry, sir.”
Nick snickered.
The grated floor and ceiling were segmented into a grid of diamond-shaped tiles. Varik glided over the checkerboard pattern like a chess piece, moving toward the nose and hopefully the cockpit of Angel One. His narrow light beam revealed an area where the walls curled in, choking off all but an open doorway in the ship’s neck. He advanced through it, expecting to find computer terminals, seats, and other equipment in the forward room. Instead, he discovered … nothing.
To his disappointment, the room was as empty as a newly made coffin. The only other doorway doubled back down a second hallway that paralleled the first. He twisted his body to and fro, panning his light over the walls in hopes of finding more. How strange for such a prominent extension of the ship to be empty.
Janice, who had followed him into the room, must have sensed his confusion. She offered, “We can return later to swab for DNA and chemical samples.”
“Commander?” Ishikawa called through the radio. “I think I’ve found something.”
Varik moved to the doorway, then used a slight burst from his jetpack to fly down the hall to Ishikawa.
“I noticed one of the floor panels sticking up higher than the others.” Ishikawa’s wide, excited eyes were visible through his faceplate. “Can you help me with it? I think there’s something underneath.”
Ishikawa and Varik took crowbars out of the toolkits in their packs, then slid them under the corners of the panel. It guarded its secret well. Varik strained his back while prying the stubborn panel up enough to slide his fingers under the metal. Once the men had a decent grip, they widened their stances and lifted it together. Varik groaned through gritted teeth.
When the panel reached waist height, they let go and floated backwards. Janice swooped in and shined her light at the substructure they had revealed. Her voice rising, she exclaimed, “It’s a container!”
“Janice, what’s in it?” Nick asked with equal excitement.
Varik regained his orientation and glided to the raised compartment. Janice was holding one of the many clear, sludge-filled bags stowed beneath the panel, squeezing its contents. She announced, “It’s green and fibrous but seems to be moist.”
Mission Specialist Emma Stadt, watching the video feed from aboard Unity, spoke up for the first time since the spacewalk. “Is the matter organic?”
“I don’t know.” Janice pressed the end of the bag, thinning the contents in one corner. “It resembles algae. If … if it is …” She trailed off as she turned it over several times. “We might have found an alien organism.”
Hairs rose on Varik’s neck. He winked, activating the helmet’s camera. The picture of the bag in Janice’s hands displayed for a few seconds on the side of his visor, then disappeared. The sludge looked like a green version of the oatmeal they ate for breakfast, but he had never seen anything so magnificent.
Alien organic matter.
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Janice warned. “It might be synthetic.”
“Manufactured matter is still an incredible find,” Nick said. “Will you be able to send some down to us in the drop pods?”
“We should be able to,” Janice said. “I’ll grab more bags.”
“How much of that stuff do you think Angel One is hauling?” Ishikawa asked. “There’s hundreds of floor panels in this hall, and they might all have bags like this under them.”
“I don’t know,” Varik said. “Janice, grab a few and let’s proceed. I want get as much exploration as possible out of our oxygen tanks.”
Next they explored the halls that traversed the wide, circular body of the ship. The passages were bent into narrow, meandering arcs that never straightened for more than a few meters. Because of this, Varik’s light carved out only a short distance of visibility. Shadows peeked around every curve, and the thought of being ambushed by aliens defending their ship became a genuine concern. The complete lack of environmental sounds and the inability to run away worsened his nerves.
Why did Ishikawa have to mention Alien? Varik would never confess it, but the movie, which had given him nightmares as a child, was feeding into his active and jittery imagination. He sensed movement at the edge of the darkness. Nothing materialized. He knew better than to expect lurking, acid-filled monsters, but someone built Angel One, and they might not be taking kindly to trespassing humans.
Get ahold of yourself. He’s got you spooked over a movie that’s as old as your father. You’re supposed to be a man of science.
Nonetheless, his anxiety persisted. He felt as though he were diving in the shark-infested ruins of a sunken ship. Halls existed for a reason—so inhabitants could move about. Were those inhabitants pursuing them as his intuition insisted, baring their teeth or weapons?
Varik slapped his helmet, trying to dislodge the unnerving thought. The artifact had been drifting in distant orbit for years, if not centuries or millennia. Not even basic life forms had ever been proven to survive under such conditions.
“Are you all right?” Janice asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Varik clutched wildly in his mind for an excuse. “I thought my speaker cut out, but I hear you loud and clear.”
“This seems very inefficient,” Ishikawa said.
“What does?”
“The halls. Why curve them? It complicates navigation.”
“You’re thinking like a Homo sapien,” Janice said
. “Instead, translate the ship’s design into clues about the travelers.”
Varik found a room that branched off from the hall. “Something tells me our Janice is going to become a professor of xenosociology.”
She chuckled. “Sounds like a good fallback plan to me.”
Varik halted at the offset doorway and swept the next room with his light before entering. The chamber was kidney-shaped, and its white walls had a texture similar to tree bark. A bundle of green tubes hung from the ceiling and drifted lazily like seaweed in calm waters. Most intriguing was the array of stump-like fixtures that protruded from the floor.
“Houston,” Varik said. “We have, uh … forty objects of unknown purpose in this room. They’re brown, approximately fifty centimeters in height, and round with ridged edges.”
“They look like giant peanut butter cups,” Ishikawa added as he hovered over the top of one.
Varik pointed at his own lips with a jab, a gesture meant to remind Ishikawa their audio was being recorded for posterity. “Thank you, Ishikawa. I’m sure the people of Earth will be thrilled to know aliens travelled across the cosmos to bring us chocolate.”
Each of the objects had a tall, curved plate that extended up from one side. When Varik pushed against the nearest one, it moved.
“The objects are fastened to the floor but do rotate. They have straps on these vertical portions.”
“Chairs,” Janice suggested. She turned to Varik, but the glare from his light veiled her face. “I’d bet my last oxygen tank they’re chairs.”
Varik nodded. He pressed the top of one seat. It compressed under his hand. “They’re cushioned. I think Janice is right on this one. That makes forty passengers, at least. Where are they?”
Further searching revealed two similar rooms, tripling the number of seats. But they did not find any advanced life forms, living or dead. They also became disoriented by the roundabout courses of the halls, unsure if they were moving toward the ship’s interior or exterior. Twice the labyrinthine corridors doubled back for no apparent reason.
Varik was considering how they might map the halls when Janice said, “Do you feel that?”
He spun to face the others, and his helmet scraped along the ceiling as he continued drifting. Janice was in the back of their group, enveloped up to her shoulders in darkness until Varik aimed his light at her. She pressed both hands against the wall.
