ECHOES
IN THE GREY
Book 2 in the Ross 128 First Contact Trilogy
DAVID ALLAN HAMILTON
ECHOES IN THE GREY
Copyright © 2019 by David Allan Hamilton.
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information contact :
[email protected]
http://www.davidallanhamilton.com
ISBN: 9781896794228
First Edition: March 2019
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
For my Dad
“The first envoy to a world always comes alone. One alien is a curiosity. Two are an invasion.”
Ursula Le Guin
“Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time.”
Albert Camus
CONTENTS
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FORTY-THREE
FORTY-FOUR
FORTY-FIVE
FORTY-SIX
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Acknowledgments
ONE
Saturday, June 7, 2092
Titanius Space Resources Lunar Geophysical Lab
Mare Crisium, Luna
Kate
The tip of her pocket knife scraped over ancient scars and recent cuts, carving a mesh of trails across her chest where her breasts would have been, leaving dark tracks and pimples of deep red blood in their wake. Kate inhaled, closing her eyes, sensing the only thing left she could feel: intense, personal relief. Approaching 30 years old. There were no prizes.
Mary Atteberry, 17 going on 30, stirred on the upper bunk where she dozed. The lab engineers created this geek’s dream habitat to house six scientists and technicians at a time, but in reality, only a few ever stayed more than a few days. The isolation, danger, and nature of the work—lunar geophysical surveys—chased away most worthy and sane people.
Except for Kate Braddock.
The rhythm of Mary’s breathing stuttered as she woke up from her snooze, knocking one of her treasured books on the floor. Kate brushed the coagulating drops of blood from her chest and lowered her form-fitting shirtskin over the mess. Then she sat up, hid the knife, and pulled on her jacket before rising and padding over to the bank of powerful computers.
“What’s it look like, Kate?” Mary yawned and swept the golden hair from her face.
Kate hovered over two large monitors in front of the worktable. “Still running data from the last survey. It’s weird, though.”
“How come?”
“Should’ve finished a while ago. This array wasn’t massive. Just a routine shallow-crust tomographic study.”
Mary inhaled a deep breath and swung her legs over the edge of the bunk. Then she hopped down, bouncing lightly in the low-g of the Moon, picked up her Ray Bradbury book, and drew a couple gels of water from the biofeeder. She padded over beside Kate in her socks, handed her one of the packs, and squeezed a gulp of her own.
After inspecting the filtered data on-screen for a moment, Mary said, “There’s jammage in this area.” She pointed to the surface coordinates of the survey at the top of the monitor. Kate grimaced. The problem with these surveys near the Mare Marginis on the eastern limb was that if anything went wrong, it’s a hell of a hike on the LunaScootas to get back out there and fix whatever needs fixing, then running it all again.
“Let’s wait and see what the filtering algorithm comes up with,” Kate said. “It may be nothing, just some data glitch or anomalous readings from the strong magnetic fields there.”
“Still,” Mary said, “it doesn’t seem to be anything systematic with the survey itself. See, Kate? The comp power focuses on that one spot, like there’s something in that location the program can’t resolve, so it keeps going.”
Kate turned to her and smiled. “You sure learned the fundamentals of this work quickly.” She chuckled and squeezed Mary’s forearm. “Come on, let’s have a look at tomorrow’s survey lines.” She pulled up a lunar topographic map on another set of monitors, and they reviewed the coordinates and variables of the next series of near-surface seismic arrays. Luna was a desolate, curious place, but it was also strategically important for its minerals, especially the extent of Helium-3, water, and metals. Fortunately, international treaties limiting the amount of strip mining and ore extraction had been established for decades. Now, resource operations on the Moon were all automated, and highly-regulated, and all out of sight on the far side.
The Titanius Space Resources Corporation was the only official outfit with a science lab on the Moon’s surface. It won the contract to perform routine geophysical surveys in the quest to locate and map new deposits and potential future mining sites. Data from the studies Kate performed were critical to Titanius’s clients, which included national and continental governments, private sector interests, and military units.
As they revisited their next lines, a soft chime indicated the data analysis was complete.
Kate nodded to the large monitors. “Shall we check what that hiccup was about?” She pulled up various layers of information on the screen, showing surface coordinates, the survey lines, and the shallow-crust tomographic image. The data covered a depth of only a few hundred meters, but there was something clear just underneath the dusty surface causing an odd-shaped anomaly. We couldn’t have missed an object that close, Kate thought, so why didn’t we see it out there?
“The resolution sucks with this setup,” Mary said. “We can’t resolve anything less than 10 meters wide or deep, at least not with any confidence.” Kate leaned closer to the monitor, zeroing in on the green and blue seismic wave patterns and the anomaly that grew more defined as the dregs of data ran to their completion.
“Doesn’t seem natural, does it.” A statement, not a question. Kate’s heart pounded louder in her chest.
“Come on, suit up. Let’s have a look at this . . . whatever the hell it is.”
They exited the lab through the main airlock, unplugged the heavy charging cables from the LunaScootas, and tore off toward the Mare Marginis—a boundary between the light and dark sides of the Moon on the eastern limb where they’d established the seismic array. The lunar day had barely dawned, so virtually al
l of the 600 km journey would be in darkness. At top speed, the single-person workhorse haulers would reach the zone in just over an hour. As they hurtled closer to the target coordinates, Kate reflected on what this anomaly could be. She had seen nothing as well-defined as this in her five solitary years on Luna. Sure, there were odd readings from time to time, but these typically resolved themselves as random outliers or some malfunction or noise and dust in the geophones.
But this one was different.
Larger.
Artificial.
The two said little as their scooters flew on, kicking up surface spray as they screamed across the moonscape. Sunlight greeted them as they approached the site, and everything appeared in order. The array, now quiet since the automated thumper had timed out, looked normal. They checked the lines, looking for objects that might have caused the data anomaly, but found nothing.
“Let’s head to that volcanic slope.” Kate pointed to a rough incline about a hundred meters away. “I want to get a better view.”
They whirred up the short hill and Kate eased her scooter down on its two nacelles in a smooth patch of dust. She dismounted and surveyed the entire area. The cause of the anomaly, assuming it wasn’t a malfunction in the software, did not appear anywhere on the surface.
“Infrared spectrum lock,” Kate said, and the images on her helmet visor shifted as her viewer panned through the ultraviolet EM band. Nothing. The whole field was exactly as it should be, precisely as—
“Are you seeing this?” Mary’s audio crackled as she waved to their right at an area near the edge of the array grid. “Something in the infrared range. That shadowy patch over there.”
Kate turned and followed Mary’s arm where she pointed to the surface below. A dark blue image emerged from the dust, and as she adjusted the visual filter embedded in her visor, the object resolved into a perfect geometric shape. A small, oval, charcoal grey body appeared, twenty meters long, she guessed, five meters wide, and expanding another few meters near its center.
“What is that . . . thing?” Mary now looked straight into Kate’s eyes through the helmet.
And Kate knew.
She understood Mary was thinking the same: that this was no random occurrence, no outlier. A little over six years ago, she and Jim had both observed the blip on a screen; confusing data scrolling by at the Mount Sutro transmitter site in San Francisco, suggesting a vessel en route to Earth traveling faster than the speed of light.
“Kate?”
Fear suddenly cut deep into her bones . . . a steadying horror that rooted itself in the fibers of her soul as she realized the frightening thought had become the terrifying thing.
“Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”
“But—”
“Now!”
Kate climbed the LunaScoota, swung her leg across the flight seat, and buckled herself in. Mary scrambled back to hers, and within seconds they tore off, blowing past the seismic array at full throttle toward the lab. Kate grimaced and bit the inside of her lip hard until the comforting ferric sting of blood hit her tongue.
This could mean only one thing.
Only one.
They had come.
TWO
Kate
Whorls of Moon dust kicked up from the racing scooters and floated momentarily, suspended in the lunar vacuum like dandelion seeds in dark flight. Half the trip passed before her heart resumed its normal rhythm. Fear of the alien ship gave way to panic, and Kate realized how fortunate she was that the return voyage allowed her to process the madness in her mind, and keep her emotions well-hidden from Jim Atteberry’s daughter. She’d learned over the years working in space that anxiety could be deadly. It sucked up oxygen reserves; caused bad decision-making. And Nature’s cold equations, in their own immutable form, did not care.
Kate and Mary approached the lunar lab, down-throttled, and slowed to a rest beside the habitat’s powerbanks. Kate dismounted first and plugged her machine into the recharger. Then she did the same to Mary’s before the scooter engine had even powered down.
“You were pretty quiet.” Mary glanced at her, eyes full of questions. “What got you so spooked out there?”
Kate ambled away from the powerbank and gazed across the desolate landscape. Perhaps this was the ship they tracked years ago at Mount Sutro. Or, it could be something else. She adjusted the audio in her helmet and, while scanning the horizon, said, “Do you remember what happened that night?”
“At the transmitter site?”
“Yeah. Your mom took you into hiding before her soldiers put an end to the only functioning subspace radio on the planet.” She turned to face Mary still sitting on her scooter. “And do you recall what happened when we later reassembled at that old school house?”
Mary dismounted and joined her. “Sure. Bits and pieces, anyway. Dad talked a lot about the aliens—the Rossians he called them—and how they could arrive any day and we’d have no way to contact them.”
“Exactly.”
“Do you believe that’s an alien ship in the dust?”
Kate felt a dull ache rise in her neck. “I do. It’s likely the one Jim heard, and that the TSA detected from the Ross 128 star system.” She faced Mary. “I also think we have to get the hell off this rock as soon as possible.” She bounded toward the lab access port.
“Just like that? Without investigating that object?”
They entered the hatchway. “See, if that is the Rossian ship, it means there’s concrete evidence we’re not alone in the universe. Think about it. You and I are ill-equipped to deal with that.” Thoughts of cautionary First Contact protocols raced through her head, along with international squabbles over who should reach out to the aliens, and who would secure their technology.
Mary hesitated before saying, “Well, before going all neural, maybe we should confirm what it is before calling headquarters. Let’s get inside and check that data.”
Kate considered it, then agreed. The airlock cycled through pressurizing and depressurizing to eliminate as much ambient dust as possible. When the safe light turned green, they opened the latch to the main lab and removed their helmets. Kate slipped out of her sleek envirosuit and hung it up before helping Mary remove hers. Even though these suits were lighter and more flexible than anything in history, they still required practice and experience to manipulate. After she stored the envirosuits, Kate plugged them in and clicked fresh oxygen canisters into their slots.
The two women sat at the main workstation. Images of the array site continued scrolling across one of the large monitors. “There,” Kate said as an image of the mysterious object appeared. Mary paused the images and adjusted the focus, then tuned the filter to delineate the anomaly from the rest of the environment.
“Why there?” Kate asked, “And why now?”
Mary touched the viewscreen, optimizing the filtering parameters to improve the image resolution as much as possible. “I’d like to know if it’s the ship you and Dad saw years ago, because if it isn’t, then what?”
Kate stood, stretched, and paced around the lab, wandering between the computer consoles, powerbanks, and living quarters to the right. She’d seen a lot of peculiar things in her former career as a Spacer, working on orbiting satellites and in numerous toxic radiation zones surrounding automated manufacturing facilities. But alien technology, let alone an alien ship, was poles apart. A riot of emotions swept through her as she remembered Jim’s great desire to share everything with the world, the Terran Science Academy’s long-range search for extraterrestrial life, and her own desperate fear of the unknown. Paralysis was close, she knew, hovering like a shadow.
“Everything okay?”
Mary squeezed her arm and that brought the room back into focus. “Yeah, this is a lot to digest, you know?” Kate returned to the workstation and opened a new project folder, then accessed the security protocols in the network, and encrypted it.
“What’s that for?”
“It’s precaut
ionary. Jim and I disagree somewhat on how to handle aliens. He’s a mi casa es su casa no secrets person. I’m not. And the UN Protocol on First Contact is pretty clear about keeping these things quiet until the international community has a chance to process it all.” The transferring files zipped into the hidden directory.
“Aren’t we supposed to validate the findings?”
Kate’s fingers danced across the viewscreen as she continued cleaning the data. “Yes, that’s part of it, but the key is to keep such intelligence quiet. No need to alarm people. The more important reason for subterfuge is to be unnoticed by extra-terrestrials.” Kate looked into Mary’s eyes. “Just in case they don’t come in peace.”
The computer chimed when the last of the raw data files had transferred. At this point, no official record of the seismic array findings or the discovery of an alien ship existed. Kate stored all the information on an external memory tube.
Mary smiled. “You are a super cautious type, aren’t you?”
She looked up from her screen. “Doesn’t hurt to keep things to ourselves while we sort this out a bit.”
“What do you mean? I thought you wanted to leave the Moon?”
Kate swung around on her stool until she faced Mary head on, and folded her hands in her lap. “I do. This is the last place I want to be right now.” She sighed. “But, there are lots of questions surrounding that object. Like, is it the ship we detected from Ross 128 back in 2085? If so, why land on Luna? Is it manned? What are their intentions? How long has it been here? And on and on.” The computer churned, processing data in the background. “I’m scared to death about what that thing is, but we can’t evac without providing Titanius a damn good reason.” She scratched her chest. “Doing that could be worse in terms of the Protocol.”
“We should tell someone about it,” Mary said. “Like my Dad.”
Kate chuckled. “Yeah, old Jim would love that! Perhaps someday, but not yet.” Her voice grew darker, more serious. “Look, if we speak to anyone about what we’ve seen, all space-faring nations and corporations would surround this place, each one of them either trying to blow it up, or take its technology, or both. Anything FTL, whether subspace comms or travel, is the new gold. The first to claim it, owns us. All of us.”
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