Sargon had confidence in Belisarus. Frigidly cold the Thix-Thet might be, but highly competent it was. As he had learned over the years of shared watches. “Navigator, is our target asteroid located at the projected rendezvous site?”
“It is,” hooted Belisarus. “Asteroid 10 Hygiea is presently located opposite from Earth, at the outer edge of its solar orbit. Distance from the yellow star upon our arrival will be 3.5024 Astronomical Units. Average orbital speed is 16.76 kilometers per second. The asteroid is an oblate spheroid that measures 350 to 500 kilometers in size. It will block any visual or sensor detection of Hekar, once the ship takes shelter behind it.”
Hiding behind 10 Hygiea was the option endorsed at the last Compact Council meeting. Once there, Hekar would be safe from easy detection. So the Astronomy Bubble techs predicted. At least their Drive flares would not be visible to the Humans for most of this complicated double-gravity well swing maneuver. But the asteroid’s solar year of 2,034 Earth days would eventually bring them to the same side of the system as Earth. Or rather, Earth’s greater orbital speed would soon bring that world to the system side where Hekar hid. He gave thanks there were no Humans engaged in mining asteroids. Yet. Sargon looked left to Life, coiled up in his basin as his sensorium strip monitored flickering blue screens that nearly encircled the Strelka. The being was competent, reliable and a friend. He emoted some of his feelings before asking the questions mandated by the last Compact Council meeting.
“Life-Who-Is-Song, what is the current sociopolitical status of the nation-Clan and sub-Clan groupings of the Human bipeds this Watch?”
Life swayed a bit, then touched several side screens with both flexarms. “Brother-In-Thought, Hekar and our organic monitors report the Human planetary status as follows,” Life hummed low. “The United States of America continues to be the planet’s primary nation-Clan power in economic, cultural and technical matters. Its current president belongs to the Nativist party but was the candidate of the Democratic Clan. President McDonnell supports continued solar system exploitation, the joint Mars colony and maintains her nation-Clan’s alliances with Brazil, the European Union, Japan and China. The other major nation-Clan power, Russia, uses its alliance with India to foment conflict in the Indian Ocean. Hostilities between Iran/Iraq and Saudi Arabia are frequent but limited to naval battles in the Persian Gulf. The advent of fusion reactors has greatly reduced the influence of nation-Clans with oil hydrocarbon reserves, even as the Islamic jihadist movements aim to overthrow current rulers in Africa and the Middle East. Egypt and Israel continue as the primary nation-Clans in the Middle East. Elsewhere, the nation-Clan of Australia has used its military forces to push back efforts by Indonesia and Malaysia to colonize its western coast with supposed refugees.”
A true-light image of Earth now filled the front viewscreen. As Life mentioned the nation-Clans, their location on that world was cursor highlighted. “The most notable development over the last nine years of our approach has been the rise in power and authority of the United Nations. Under its leadership, the Humans have put nine laser and nuclear torpedo battlestations into low Earth orbit. The Russian battlestation operates independent of the UN stations but will likely collaborate with them. The function of the ten stations is to protect Earth from incoming comets and large asteroids, like the one that devastated the island Clan of Sri Lanka in 2041.” A holo image of a battlestation took form between the row of instrument blocks and the front viewscreen. “These stations would be a danger to any Compact shuttle or fighter craft attempting to enter Earth’s atmosphere.”
Sargon had spent the last year of their approach studying these Human battlestations. They were indeed a danger, outfitted as they were with multi-spectral sensors, infrared telescopes and millimeter wavelength targeting radar. Also a danger were the ground to orbit spaceplanes controlled by America, the EU and China. While not as agile or thrust powerful as the fighter craft of the Compact, still, the spaceplanes could be a problem for any covert Earth visit. “Well stated, Science Contemplator,” Sargon said. He felt more than saw the stance of T’Klose change as the Arrik leaned forward, his gaze fixed on the battlestation holo. “What Human dangers exist beyond Earth? On its Moon and elsewhere?”
His Strelka friend tapped another blue screen. “There is a large reflector telescope placed on the far side of the Moon. Its sensors cover the infrared, ultraviolet and true-light wavelengths. Next to it are automated true-light scopes that look outward, constantly on the watch for incoming light flares emitted by small comets or asteroids,” the centipede hummed. “Near to the scopes is a particle accelerator that produces antimatter for Moon orbit experiments in building an antimatter space drive.” Hoots, gasps and similar reactions came from the other crew. “The Humans have, so far, failed to replicate our magnetic focusing lenses for use of antimatter in space drives. At present, the Human-occupied spaceships make use of the VASIMIR magnetoplasma drive and a simple deuterium-helium-3 fusion pulse space drive. Their best transit time to Mars from Earth is 90 days. As you know, your Horem shuttles can make the trip in three days, thanks to the antimatter-boosted fusion pulse drives of the shuttles.”
Sargon knew that. The shuttle technology was hundreds of years old. Similar shuttles were maintained by the Strelka, Arrik, Gosay and Zik species. “Life, what of the positive Human events? Surely there are some?”
Life lifted his sensorium strip. “There are many positive aspects absent from this synopsis. Do you require further elaboration?”
“Yes!” interrupted T’Klose. “Are there any signs of orbiting antimatter projectors?”
“No,” Life hummed. “The Human offensive space capability is currently limited to low Earth orbit for the spaceplanes, ABM launchers and battlestations. There are a few geosync satellites outfitted with neutral particle beam energy weapons.”
T’Klose flapped his wings impatiently. “That may be. But what is the maximum orbital insertion ability of any Human launcher?”
“Around 500 tons using the American Orion heavy-lifter launcher,” Life said patiently.
“That is sufficient to orbit one of their 50 megaton fusion bombs, is it not?” T’Klose whistled, his wings opening somewhat.
“True, but—”
“Sept Ruler,” interrupted Sargon, tired of the Arrik’s paranoia. “As you are aware, those devices have never been mated to the Fractional Orbital Bombardment System developed ninety years ago. Nor have they been moved from their north Siberia storage depot. Which contains two devices, according to Internet reports. I see no need to worry.”
“Watch Commander!” T’Klose hissed in irritation. “Have you forgotten the many space launch sites of the Humans? A giant bomb could be delivered to any one of them and then launched into orbit. One of their VASIMIR spacecraft could then transport it to our Asteroid Belt hiding site.”
Sargon rubbed his eyes wearily. Nine years since his last Suspense. All that time he’d put up with T’Klose’s obsessive paranoia about the Humans. He was simply tired of it all. But as Conflict Commander, he had to honor the being’s questions.
“Life, would you please give me, and my guest, a review of the Human space launch facilities?” he asked his friend. Maybe the flow of voluminous data would daunt T’Klose.
Life-Who-Is-Song paused a moment to reorient his summation. The Strelka’s left flexarm touched a pressure stud. A side Imager screen fleetingly illustrated visual and geographic details of his report for Sargon and T’Klose, while a split-screen appeared at the front.
“Watch Commander, there is normal activity reported by our Earth-monitoring sensors,” said Life. “The Chinese East Wind facility near Shuang-ch’eng-tzu is preparing a Long March 7, three-stage rocket to send a Tianzhou Moon shuttle to its base at Langrenus crater. That will happen in three days.” A brief green light image of the chemical rocket flashed before Sargon’s eyes. “The Indian Sriharikota facility near Chennai two days ago launched a manned capsule into a low equatorial orbit using an SLV-4
vehicle. The Japanese Tanegashima base has an H-V rocket on the pad ready to put a Shikazu Moon shuttle into orbit before departure for its Moon base at Biot crater, while the Kagoshima base will receive an M-3S-kai-2 missile fitted with a Venus probe within a week.” Images of narrow rockets with fins flickered before him. Ballistics and atmospheric drag required certain basic forms, he reflected. “The French facility near Kourou, French Guinea,” Life continued, “is preparing an Ariane 6 to launch a Hermes spaceplane into low Earth orbit in 12 hours. The Russians are active at all launch facilities at Tyuratam, Volgograd and Plesetsk. They are preparing to launch a Lenin shuttle to resupply their Moon base at Copernicus crater. Several other Russian spacecraft are in low Earth orbit at present, most involved with supplying staff to their polar orbit battlestation, or to their Tsiolkovsky space station. Yesterday the Americans launched a Mars resupply flight into equatorial orbit from their Vandenberg base. It will shortly mate up with their Armstrong Mars transit spacecraft. A second Orion heavy-lifter is preparing to launch from Cape Canaveral. It will send a Kennedy shuttle loaded with supplies and staff to their base at Tycho crater.” The Strelka paused a moment to consult his readouts. Sargon marveled at his friend’s easy command of Human terminology and the amount of information his crewmate had deduced from tracking radar pulses and telemetry at each of the launch centers mentioned. Thank goodness Hekar had launched four small Monitor satellites long ago, which now orbited Earth at the planet’s libration points.
“Not what I meant!” T’Klose whistled loudly, his ultrasound moving down into normal audible range. “Besides the battlestations, ABM launchers and the geosync particle beam satellites, what is the Human space interdiction ability? In low orbit near their world?”
Life elevated his torso, his sensorium strip perceiving everywhere at once. “Conflict Commander, neither the Americans, the Russians nor the Chinese have yet orbited electron beam battleglobes, but all three have an active ASAT capability,” Life hummed quickly. “The Americans have placed a few ‘pop-up’ x-ray laser-tipped missiles aboard two of their Florida class SuperTrident submarines.” That caught Sargon’s attention and earned a growl from T’Klose. Magnetic deflection fields could not stop x-rays. “The Russians now have operational carbon-dioxide lasers at Sary Shagan, Krasnoyarsk, Pushkino, Nenoska and Vladimirovka with a low orbit interdiction capability. The Americans have operational hydrogen-fluorine ABM lasers emplaced at Washington D.C., Kirtland, the Bangor and Kings Bay SuperTrident bases, SAC headquarters, and the Hampton Roads naval complex. Other nation-Clans have some level of unmanned, low-orbit attack and interdiction capability,” the Strelka said. “However, there is no sign the Humans are aware of Hekar and are preparing to attack us.”
Before Sargon could change the topic, T’Klose interrupted again. “But what are the Human capabilities for reaching us in our parking orbit if they did detect us?”
T’Klose looked up at the front viewscreen. The rest of Sargon’s Command crew carried on with their system entry duties—they ignored the mini-spat going on between the Watch Commander, his Executive Aide and the Conflict Commander.
“Modest, Commander,” said Life, settling down into a coil in his basin. “Only America, China and Japan operate Mars transit spaceships. Their VASIMIR and fusion pulse spacecraft could reach us, since both types of craft now travel to Mars. But Mars is still 230 million kilometers away even when its orbital position coincides with 10 Hygiea.” T’Klose settled his wings down and Sargon sat back in his seat, resigned to patience. “No human craft can attain the speed of our Horem, Strelka or Gosay interplanetary craft. But to reach our parking orbit at a constant l,000 kilometers per second velocity—which is one-fifth the speed of the Gosay craft now in our hangars—would take the Humans at least 165 hours if they left now. Hekar predicts a 99.9994 percent certainty of detecting any Human launch toward us.”
Sargon again ignored T’Klose’s breach of Command discipline. He wanted to pursue an issue of far greater interest to him than the limited interplanetary capabilities of the Humans. He looked back over his shoulder to the alcove of Sparkling-Yellow-Thoughts, long-term mate of Life and also highly competent.
“Liaison, is the covert Probe team ready for Earth departure once our orbit is stabilized?” he asked. T’Klose turned away and Life returned to his Earth monitoring duties.
Sparkle leaned her brain case out of her alcove. “Watch Commander, the Horem team is nearly ready for the mission,” Sparkle hummed. “They are spending extra time in Bubble H1 in further adjustment to the ‘open sky’ phenomenon. They are also practicing English, Hindi and Tamil in preparation for their arrival in Madras, or Chennai. Your son Corin reports he and his teammates are eager to assume their roles as Hindi electronics merchants,” Sparkle said, studying her Comlink panel readout. “However, they appear to have absorbed some attitudes of the Humans over the last nine years of Net and audiovisual study. A Gosay team monitor reports they have ordered Hekar to generate several thousand holograms of the Human bipeds within the Bubble,” she paused, sounding puzzled. “They say they are lonesome for crowds.”
Sargon flared his headcrest at Sparkle’s comment, feeling amused. It showed how well the Probe team had progressed. The team included Corin as linguist, Arel Megan Begax as Biomedical specialist, Lux Hola Sotet as Farms expert and Aret Kagen Terai as Trader-In-Charge. He knew that shaving off their body fur so they would appear more Human had bothered all the team members. But at least the dark brown color of Horem skin would allow them to look Hindu-normal. To complete the Human look they would wear contact lenses, use bionic fifth digits for hands and feet, and wear a wig to cover their headcrests. Their aim was to resemble high caste Hindi electronics merchants. But the physical change was simple compared to adopting the mental mind-set of an alien race. They must mimic alien actions, reactions and perceptions so well they became second nature.
The choice of the nation-Clan India had been controversial, due to high surface temperatures that required light clothing year-round. Sargon wished they could have set up station in a cold north European nation-Clan such as Norway, where clothing would have better disguised them. However, the north Europeans were far more watchful of their planetary airspace than the Hindus and their culture was far more homogenous than the multiple ethnic groups and cultures of India. On balance, as Kagen had pointed out to him once at an inter-Clan celebration, the ability to enter a local Trade context around the port city of Chennai was critical. In Chennai, the Trade team could melt into the seven million bipeds of the spread-out city. Social strictures would keep lower caste Indians from closely questioning the higher caste Horem. Gold and silver bullion could be easily converted into the local currency, and the Hindus lacked an individual monitoring system like those in the north temperate zone Clans.
He wondered how Corin would feel? Relatively alone on an alien world where the daylight was wrong, the gravity not quite right, the air too thick and humid. Most importantly, Corin and his teammates were separated from the familiarity of Hekar and their own Clans. Will he learn enough of Human Trade principles to make First Contact successful? How will he feel as he looks out over a planetary ocean for the first time? What will be the reality of the Human world?
Dismissing these thoughts, Sargon turned back to his Command duties. There was much to be done before First Contact. And it all began now with the Probe team and an unnoticed arrival in-system behind l0 Hygiea. There also remained the final Awakening from Suspense of 30,000 Compact sapients from all species and a great increase in hydroponic and Farm food production to accommodate the needs of the newly Awakened. Their entry into the system was just the start of the many steps involved in making First Contact with a new species.
“Your Probe team risks much danger,” T’Klose whistled, his wings showing predatory alertness, eyes fixed on the front viewscreen and its multiple images of the Human star system. “Perhaps an Arrik fighter craft should accompany them?”
Sargon blinked. As a fath
er he wanted safety for his son. As the Watch Commander, he must follow the orders of the Compact Council. “An Arrik fighter craft is a wonder to behold, Ruler T’Klose. However, the magpulse courier they will take to reach Earth is nearly invisible to all sensors. They will be safe.”
“Of course they will be,” Life hummed from his basin.
All too soon he and Bethrin would send their son off to a strange, alien world. It was something he wished for. And something he didn’t. There was danger. And he wanted to face it himself—not send one of his children out into the unknown. But Corin had trained for years for this Probe work. He must trust to that training, and to the Gods of Trade.
♦ ♦ ♦
Ten days later, Sargon and Bethrin stood behind a group of other Horem parents, wives, a husband, children and Clan relatives in starboard hanger cavern J6. Corin and his teammates were gathered at the bottom of the ramp that led up to a Strelka four-globe courier ship. The near emptiness of the large cavern emphasized the smallness of their small group. The Probe craft sat on a launch platform next to the inner locks, ready to depart. All it needed was its Probe team. The Strelka pilot was already aboard. Sargon watched as Corin approached him and Bethrin, weaving through the crowd of friends and relatives.
“Father. Mother. May I have your . . . Sharing?” Corin asked.
Sargon smiled with his headcrest. His furless, strangely dressed son did not look Horem enough to be asking for the traditional Horem Clan blessing.
Corin stood there, equal in height to Sargon, dressed in the white pants, maroon jacket and peaked cap common to an upper caste Hindu of Chennai. A black hair wig covered his headcrest, brown lenses covered yellow eyes, and a five-fingered hand reached out to him. His only son seemed so . . . alien. Everything was Horem-wrong. But Human-right. Bethrin nudged him. He coughed and stepped forward a bit.
Retread Shop 1: First Contact Page 13
