Amanda stood. “Well, damn, they solved it. Lieutenant Jay, tune into that frequency.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
When Jay adjusted the frequency, they were bombarded by a plethora of strange voices speaking in some sort of incomprehensible speech composed of a jumble of many different languages, both human and xeno.
“I’m working to clean it up,” Jay said. “There are over 1,200 languages here. Captain, they’re cherry-picking from various communique that has gone through our slipstream frequencies over the last hundred years. Like a kid cutting up words in a magazine and using them to form a secret message. I need to run what they’re saying through our language matrix.”
“Will we be able to talk back?” Amanda asked.
“I believe so,” Jay said as he typed away at his terminal. “There. The translation will not be perfect, but it should be work.”
“Wonderful, Lieutenant,” Amanda said. “That’s excellent work.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Jay said. “Keep in mind that this is not what they sound like. This is just a computer-rendered approximation of words translated into English from over a thousand languages over a century of communication chopped up to form a message.”
A strange, alien voice came across the speakers; androgynous, raspy, and not in any way human. Amanda shuttered.
“Alien container. You’re murdering us. Halt! Stop killing them.” A pause. “We’re trying to scream at Consortium. Respond.” A very long pause, one long enough that Amanda thought it might be over, but then the voice returned. “Species that we are seeing, the people beg you to cease! We come in peace.” Another pause. “Xeno attack. Species defend!”
“That’s it,” Jay said. “That’s all the past messages they’ve sent to us since this all began.”
Just then, the ship shook, and the translation came through immediately. “Homeland surrenders.”
“They think we’re here to conquer them,” Amanda said. She looked at Lieutenant Jay. “Can we respond yet?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Let’s try it,” Amanda said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I have set it up to work verbally. I’ll open up a channel to the slipstream and start the matrix. One moment.” He worked for a few seconds, then said, “You’re open, captain. Try to use simple words.”
Amanda took a long breath and steeled herself. “This is Captain Amanda Hansley of the Earth Consortium Fleet ship Bending Crane. Can you understand us?”
A long pause. Then a jolt rocked the ship, and the same distorted voice spoke. “Spaceship controller, A Man Hand Lee. Species surrenders. Stop murdering many of us.”
“Do you have a name?”
A small jolt. “We don’t have name. If you desire name, we are empty. Do not slay for what we are missing.”
Amanda figured they didn’t understand the question. Maybe they didn’t have designations for individuals or thought the Broken Crane wanted names as a resource. She guessed it didn’t matter much.
“We are not here to kill or conquer you. We did not know you were here.” She couldn’t tell them they were explorers or were there in the name of peace because they were actively harming and terraforming their planet. “We did extensive—”
“Ahem,” Jay said. “Simple words will be better, captain.”
Amanda nodded. “Uh, we looked on your planet for life, but did not find it.”
A long silence, then a jolt. “Life on Nichelle Nichols. We live long life. We listen, we correspond. Stop your changing.”
“I am so sorry. Once the, uh, changing starts, we can’t stop it. We have slowed it down. We can offer you transport to a different world.”
Jolt. “Home. Only domicile. No other orbiting sphere. You destroy. Beings protect. Collective group surrenders, A Man Hand Lee.”
Amanda felt her emotions unraveling. She pictured James down there on that planet, suffocating in the strange new atmosphere. She held her tears at bay, but her hands shook; she put them into her pockets to hide her fragility. “I am sorry. We did not mean for this to happen. We were looking for a dead planet to change so we could live on it. We thought there was no life here.”
Jolt. “The group surrenders. Request permission you stop.”
They were begging, and there was no way to help them, and she didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, they needed her to stop, or they might eradicate this species of being, whatever they were. On the other, the project, the years and years of hard work, and the billions of dollars it cost to make it all happen.
“Stand by. I will try to help.”
Jolt. “Please, A Man Hand Lee.”
Her heart hurt. She knew what she needed to do, but would it be worth risking ending her career for? Being the captain of a Consortium Fleet ship meant one was willing to take risks and make the hard choices.
Amanda indicated to Jay to end the feed, and when he did so, she turned around. “Lieutenant Walton, what are the chances of planetary collapse or instability if we force the terraforming process to stop?”
“Captain?” Traven said.
“Lieutenant Walton?” Amanda said.
“Uh, in this early stage, only about 3.7 percent chance, captain,” Walton said after checking the math at his station. “But that’s too high of a chance to—”
“Good,” Amanda said. She turned to Traven. “I am about to make a decision that will probably get me into trouble. Commander, you must take command of the ship back after I give this order. But I ask that you do so after it is carried out. Lieutenant, open a channel to the Nova.”
Jay did so.
“Captain Santos. I need you to understand my reasoning behind the decision I am about to make and the order I am about to give my crew so that this way you can testify in court as to my mental state at this moment.”
“Captain Hansley?” he said. “Please explain.”
“We have just spoken the aliens. Communication is difficult, but we are killing them, and they are begging us to stop.”
“But the process can’t be stopped,” Santos said. “Right?”
“Correct. There is a way to do it, but it will destroy years of work, and it will require much more time and money to recuperate. I am doing it to save the lives of this species. I am doing this to save lives, captain, but I am making this decision because it is the right thing to do. If we kill these aliens because of the mistakes we made in our sensor sweeps, we are at fault.”
There was a long silence before Santos replied. “I don’t know what you’re planning to do, Captain Hansley, but I agree with your reasoning.”
“Thank you. Hansley out.” She looked at her bridge crew. All of them she had known for a least a year, and some of them she had known for all seven. She saw it in their eyes; they were behind her. She looked at her first officer. Traven nodded.
“Open a channel to the aliens,” Amanda said, still trying to keep her emotions at bay.
“Open, ma’am,” Jay said.
“Beings who live here. I am going to try to stop the changing process. There is a small chance that stopping it will completely destroy your planet. This may work, or it may not. We will not stop until we find a way to help you. Do you wish us to try?”
Jolt. “Agree. Request aid and stopping. Yep. Gratitude.”
She cut the feed and pulled steady hands out of her pockets. “Lieutenant Ono,” she said.
The tactical officer stood up straight, obviously not ready for a command. “Ma’am?”
“Open fire on the Project Exo Homeland terraforming matrix node on the surface of Nichelle. Destroy it.”
“Belay that order, Lieutenant Ono. Captain?” Traven said.
She turned to Traven. “Lexie, we can’t stop the process by turning it off, but if we destroy the node, it will stop. Do it, Lieutenant Ono.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ono said. She worked on her console and pressed the firing mechanism.
Four long-range missiles shot out from the ship and f
lew down to a spot on the planet where the terraforming device had been planted on the surface when they were given the go-ahead by Command to start the process. She watched as the screen showed a small explosion.
“Target destroyed, captain,” Ono said.
“Walton?” Amanda said.
A long moment of tense silence filled the bridge; all Amanda heard were people working at their stations. She felt the perspiration on her forehead as she waited for confirmation.
“Captain,” Lieutenant Walton said, “the terraforming process on Nichelle has ceased, and the planet remains stable. Without the matrix sustaining it, the changes we made over the last 18 hours will reverse within a few days.”
A cheer went up on the bridge, and everyone looked relieved. Amanda’s hands shook again. She looked at Traven and nodded to her, telling her to do what she needed to do.
“Captain,” Traven said, “this has been difficult for all of us. I think we can handle it from here. You’re supposed to be on leave, and the Nova is here. Thank you for your leadership during this crisis, but I can take care of things now and try to figure out what the hell we’re going to tell Command.”
“Yes, commander,” Amanda said. “I relinquish control of the ship to you as acting captain. I will wait in my quarters until Command clears the Nova to take me home.”
With the formalities done, she offered her hand to Traven. “Thank you, commander. I’m sorry I’m leaving you with a mess to clean up.”
Traven shook it. “You did the right thing, captain.”
She walked to the bridge’s exit, but there was another jolt to the ship before she could leave, and a translation came through the speakers.
“Thanks, A Man Hand Lee. You finished. We survive. Never come back.”
Traven ordered a connection made and said, “Beings that live here. We are sorry for the harm we caused to your world. We will be leaving orbit soon.”
There was no response. The whispers had quieted.
“Communications have cleared, commander,” Jay said.
“Good,” Traven said. “Contact Command. I’ll take it in the captain’s office.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jay said.
Amanda left the bridge with a smile on her face. She walked to her quarters, and after she closed the door, she leaned up against it, slid down to the floor, and cried. They were tears of relief mixed with grief. A part of her had done it for James; another part of her did it for her pride. And now that it was over, all she had to look forward to was burying her husband and possibly a court-martial.
Once she gained control of her sobbing, she sat down at her computer, opened the slipstream, and looked at the eerie static; it returned to normal. The interference from the aliens had vanished. She closed her eyes and listened to the static for a while, hoping to hear James. Then again, maybe he already had, through the pleas of the lifeforms.
For the second day in a row, she lost track of time, and when she had settled down, she was back in bed with James’ love letter in her hand.
Her intercom chimed. “Captain, a shuttle from the Nova is on its way to pick you up,” a crewman said.
She reached for the intercom, which she forgot to remove from her belt. “Acknowledged,” she said.
Amanda washed her face in the bathroom, changed back into civilian clothing, and gathered her things. She put her intercom back onto the charging station on the wall and walked out the door. She strode to the shuttle bay, not moving with any kind of speed.
The entire bridge crew stood by the airlock where the Nova shuttle docked. A crewman took her belongings from her and placed them into the shuttle. The bridge crew saluted in unison and smiled at her as she walked by. Traven stood at the far end, closest to the airlock. Amanda stopped and faced her first officer.
“I informed Command of the situation, and Admiral Davis is evaluating the information and data we sent them,” Traven said. “We will be breaking orbit as soon as you’re on the Nova and will be heading for the nearest Command base. Captain, don’t take the fall for this. We will testify that it was the only way. We all will.”
“Thank you, Lexie,” Amanda said. “We’ll see what happens. For now, I’m going home.”
“I know it’s not the way you wanted, captain.”
“No,” she said. “But thank you for believing in me.”
Traven saluted again. “James would be proud of you today. I really believe that.”
“Permission to disembark,” Amanda said.
“Granted, captain. Safe travels, and my condolences.”
“Thank you, commander,” she said. She looked at her bridge crew. “Thank you, all of you. You’re the finest crew I’ve ever served with in my career. Stars guide you.”
“Stars guide you,” they repeated the mantra of luck for the Consortium Fleet.
She saluted them back, and she walked onto the shuttle. After the pilot made his pre-flight checks, he detached it from the airlock, and they traveled to the Nova.
Amanda pulled James’ love letter out of her pocket. “I heard your whisper in the dark static of the slipstream, James,” she said. “I’m coming home.” She kissed the paper.
Aaron P. Hansen
Aaron P. Hansen has been working as a web developer since 2015, writing code and frequently wondering how it works. He is a graduate of Algonquin College and is finishing his second Information technology diploma at Mohawk College.
His passion for writing came after a brief stint working for the federal government and realizing he did not belong there. Aaron sold most of his worldly possessions and spent six and a half months backpacking through Europe. It was there he started working on the first draft of his upcoming science fiction novel. He has written his local auto enthusiast newsletters and as a ghostwriter for the CEO of a private firm.
Aaron works and lives in Hamilton, Ontario. He finds his drive and inspiration from raising his ferocious daughter as a single father.
Learn more at Facebook.com/Aaron.Hansen.376695
Magic Loop Around the Sun
Aaron P. Hansen
Mark looked past the tablet to chase his eggs with his fork.
Alien Invasion Continues, the headline read. He skimmed the article as he pushed the last egg bits onto his fork with his fingers.
One year since they were spotted by the Mauna Kea Observatory, we still don’t know what they are doing out there, the article declared. He swiped to the next article, leaving a trail of egg grease across the screen.
“Did you see China is demanding the aliens recognize them as Earth’s global authority?” he called to Jane, who was busy in the other room. He tried to read the story as he attempted to wipe the grease from the screen, causing the words to bounce around on the page. Why someone hadn’t invented grease-proof screens was a bit of a mystery to him. He briefly considered how one might go about doing that.
“What’s that?” She called back, “Can you call the mechanic today? The car is making that funny noise again.”
He made a mental note to add a reminder to his calendar for the day, then flipped to the news about the US president trying to pass legislation to launch nukes at the aliens. His speech went on about the solar system being the sovereign territory of humanity and that the aliens’ presence was an act of war. The tone didn’t differ much from China’s rhetoric, but at least they weren’t trying to send nukes across the solar system to an alien race that seemed to have traveled a thousand light-years to get here. Give or take. There was still some argument over which solar system they had come from.
They had parked themselves in the center of a relatively populated section of the asteroid belt and went about their business. What the business was seemed to be anyone’s guess. The obvious answer was mining the asteroids, but no one had the slightest clue as to why. There was a small group of people who had proposed the aliens were staging an invasion of Earth. No one took those people seriously anymore.
Humanity would have more answers soon, at least.
Their first satellites were due to arrive in the next month or so. The Japanese had diverted one of their asteroid missions to scout the visitors, but had to make a slow journey around the sun to get there.
Mark was interested in the idea of what new tech they might be able to glean from their guests, much like every government on the planet. There was a new space race. No one had been that far out of the gravity well before, and no amount of money was being saved on building ships to get out there. It was like the 60s, but with higher stakes. He briefly considered what it would be like to be there, up close, whenever the first shuttles got there.
“Looks like the Democrats are filibustering the president’s nuke proposal,” Mark said as Jane entered the kitchen.
“Is that even a word?” she said, reading something on her own tablet and taking a piece of toast from his plate.
“What?”
“Filibustering?”
Mark shrugged, “Yes?”
Jane shook her head and walked back into the other room. “I don’t think it is.”
Mark flipped his tablet to his presentation.
He stared at the schematics he had prepared for the meeting with the investors. He had managed to convince a couple local angel investors to hear his pitch. He spent a few minutes worrying about his color choices, wondering if he should have chosen a more modern theme.
He was considering asking Jane for her thoughts when a call coming through the tablet interrupted him.
“Honey,” he called. “Where’s area code 818?”
“Uh, BC?”
He didn’t think so, but sent the call to voicemail. He would deal with it after the presentation.
“Who was it?” Jane asked as she refilled her coffee.
“Dunno, sent it to voicemail. What do you think?” He lifted the tablet to show her his finalized presentation.
She made a face. “Why would you think dark green and yellow would be a good choice?” she asked, pantomiming hideous retching.
“Tell me why I married you in the first place?”
“Too late now. You’re stuck with me.” She grabbed his head and kissed his face, leaving lipstick on his cheek. “My ride’s here! Love you. Good luck! Change the color!” The last bit she yelled as the door closed behind her.
Space Bound: A Dragon Soul Press Anthology Page 15
