Neighbors

by Brian Whiting

  new damage. Even with FTL, it would take a couple weeks of travel. Alex

  stepped over to his XO, who was still seated.

  “What do you think, head home?”

  “It’s the safe move. Besides, with that object, there’s not much room to

  gather much else.”

  “Fena, set a course for home, engage when ready.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Have damage control teams begin repairs.”

  “Why not wait until we are in the repair yard, get it done right?”

  Lanora asked.

  “It gives the repair teams good experience, it allows us to evaluate their

  performance, it will also reduce the amount of time we are in dock.” Alex

  looked at the ground, pretending to be perplexed, as though he thought

  this should be obvious.

  The interior blue lights activated. “FTL transit, two minutes.”

  Alex walked back to his chair and buckled in.

  * * *

  “So, what is it?” Alex stood inside the cargo bay, looking at a wide array of

  ores and metals, all laid out on a fold-out table inside the hangar bay.

  “It’s rock and ore.”

  The display was colorful and chaotic. Large chunks of iron ore sat on

  the left side, a golden clay-like material filled the middle, and tiny bits of bluish glass were gathered on the right side.

  “The iron was easy to figure out, the rest is being analyzed. But this is

  not why I called you down here.” The scientist left the table and walked

  over to the large rock, heading for the right side, where a slightly-flat por-

  tion of it faced into the three feet of air between it and the wall. Alex was

  right behind him when he handed him some plastic gloves.

  “This is.”

  The scientist pointed to a portion of the rock that broke away a long

  time ago, revealing a threaded borehole. The curvature and pattern were

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  too sophisticated for it to be a natural occurrence. Alex ran his finger along the grooves and followed them until he touched a piece of metal, just out

  of sight.

  “What is that?” Alex said, running his gloved hand up the large bore-

  hole to feel the object on the inside.

  “I put a camera up there.” The scientist pulled out a laptop, which held

  a still image of a torn piece of metal.

  “Something was bolted to that location. The remaining piece is mostly

  iron. Whatever it was, it was sheered away with brute force, leaving behind

  this small three-inch-by-four-inch piece of metal. Your guess is as good as

  mine as to what it was. If we manage to rotate this hunk of rock, we might

  be able to see it without the use of cameras.”

  Alex was excited, but kept a cool head, squashing his smile. “Thank

  you. Keep at it and let me know if you find anything else interesting with

  this thing.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  Alex walked away, deep in thought, Lanora on his heels.

  “What are you thinking about? You seem troubled.”

  Alex stopped, frustrated by the interruption. “Whatever this was, it

  was part of something much larger that was blasted into space dust and

  scattered all over the system. There’s no doomsday bunker for something

  like this.”

  “’Blasted’? You think someone did this?”

  Alex appeared concerned. “Either that, or a huge comet got in the way.

  There’s too little information to know either way right now.”

  “All the more reason to speed things up. I keep getting the sense we

  aren’t fast enough or strong enough, and never will be.”

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  Chapter 24

  Homecoming

  ALEX WALKED INTO his office at the Complex, having just docked

  the ship in a hanger bay expanded to accommodate the newer and larger

  Enterprise constructed in orbit. The roof and far walls were removed and open to the atmosphere to allow the ship to slide in, like a large pickup

  truck squeezing in a small garage with the rear of the truck sticking out.

  There was enough shelter to protect the parts of the ship desperately need-

  ing repairs and allow the removal and storage of the large chunk of space

  rock they’d collected.

  The thing that disturbed him was the amount of time Earth claimed

  had passed. The Enterprise’s clocks had to be adjusted when they reached

  orbit. According to Earth, the clock of the Enterprise was slower by over

  thirty-two hours. He tried to wrap his mind around the Kalibri symposium

  on the topic of time. But the understanding still eluded him.

  He sat down at his computer, amazed that Laura had yet to arrive.

  Upon starting the computer, the UEF Homepage flashed a headline.

  UEF Enterprise finds alien life, returns home damaged.

  Alex closed his eyes and simmered in quiet anger. He picked up his

  phone and called the media department.

  No one picked up, so he called again. Still no answer. Slamming

  the handset into the receiver, he stood up and stormed straight to the media department.

  Walking through the lobby, Alex noticed the TVs that once displayed

  the news all day every day were blank.

  “Hey!”

  Alex stopped, realizing that the voice was familiar. Zeek walked over,

  his arms wide open. “I didn’t know you were coming in until I saw the

  Enterprise hover for the dock.” Zeek embraced his friend with vigor.

  “It’s good to see you, man.”

  “You have been gone for a while. Of course, we expected you to be

  gone for much longer. What happened out there?”

  “Eh… not too much really. We hit a rock, and some caterpillars ruined

  our week. Corporal Huey is still in a coma. Other than that, we’re doing

  okay. How are things here?”

  “It certainly isn’t easy adjusting to the new Earth. We got some setbacks

  in some areas. In others, we’re advancing quickly.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, for starters, the only real source of wide-scale news is coming

  from the UEF. The BBC is stretching their legs, but it will be some time

  before they reclaim their prior coverage.”

  “What about the others?”

  “Decimated or no source of widescale transmitting power. A lot of

  transmitters were destroyed by the Zorn, and large areas of the country are

  still without cell service. Everyone’s gone back to landlines. Plus, a lot of

  satellites were destroyed, and debris in space is shredding whatever is left

  up there. We even had to move the orbital shipyard into ultra-high orbit to

  avoid the cloud of deadly debris. Our big edge is that we can park a shuttle

  in low orbit and relay our broadcasts.

  “A lot of specialized industries no longer exist. Pharmaceuticals are

  nearly nonexistent, those pill factories still exist, but those who knew how

  to operate them or knew the formulas are dead or in hiding. However,

  we’ve got a couple of antibiotics up and running. While food isn’t exactly

  scarce, we are certainly limited in food choices, and the biggest problem is

  just transporting the food. Transportation continues to be the largest pro-

  hibiting factor to getting things back up and running.”

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  “Yeah, I could use a cheeseburger right now.”

  “Hell, I could use any kind of cooked food right now.�
��

  “On a positive note, we’ve got over seventy Earth-based shuttles in

  operation. Jerry continues to pump out pilots. We’ve got agreements with

  farming sectors and various governments for mutual support.”

  “Numbers on casualties?”

  “We really need a census to know for sure, but some UEF people who

  spent time trying to figure it out think we lost thirty to forty percent of the global population. China took the largest hit; they nearly got wiped out

  entirely. We think the Zorn merely attacked things making noise. Trans-

  formers, humans, animals, things like that. You should see the video we got

  from the government where a Zorn attacks a waterfall. It’s hilarious. Which

  reminds me, you should know there are unconfirmed reports that a few

  Zorn are still wandering around killing.”

  “Probably people’s fears crafting stories.”

  “Yeah…”

  “So what are you up to these days?”

  “Uhh… I’ve been keeping the UEF network up and running, mostly.

  I’ve even got a small team assisting me now.”

  “Cool. I’m heading for the media department. Why don’t you walk

  with me?”

  “Media department? Okay.”

  Alex and Zeek made their way to the media department. Alex walked

  in and watched as a dozen people sitting behind computers turned their

  heads to stare at him. Several stood and clapped. Alex lowered his head and

  tried to wave them back to their seats. Jackie and Renee both walked into

  the room, curious about the commotion.

  “Captain Alex. Welcome back.”

  Alex walked close to Renee so only she could hear. “Let’s talk in private.”

  Renee nodded, and Alex noticed Zeek was also inches away, standing

  directly behind him, listening very closely. Zeek only smirked in response.

  Renee led them to her office and closed the door. “The only time I ever

  see you in my department is when you’re upset about something. So…what

  is it this time?”

  Alex hesitated and looked at Jackie as she sat down, then at Zeek, who

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  was busy looking at various pictures littered along the walls. “Eh…you’re right,” he said, deciding to change his tone. “I am concerned your language

  paints a terrible picture of our activities out in space and will give people

  the wrong idea.”

  “What, that exploring space is dangerous? Who would have ever

  guessed?” Jackie rolled her eyes and crossed her legs.

  Renee leaned against her desk and looked Alex over. No longer did he

  look the young man right out of college; now he looked young but mature,

  a man in his prime, complete with the thousand-yard stare of seasoned

  military veterans. Renee thought carefully about her response. She waited

  almost too long to respond, however; this wasn’t the first time she had to

  talk to him about this kind of thing.

  “Anyone can dream big dreams. Only people who act ever make them

  come true.”

  Alex appeared to consider what she said. His face betrayed confusion

  and impatience with her words.

  “Alex, we either write to the intellectual while assuming society is smart

  enough to read the article and come to well-reasoned judgments, or we

  write to the masses assuming they are too dumb to figure out what we are

  writing about and spoon feed them what we want them to know.”

  Alex realized his error; she was right of course. He stood up, gave a

  quick nod and left the room. Renee tilted her head and watched him leave,

  Zeek hot on his heels.

  * * *

  The tunnels in the extensive underground cavern system looked identi-

  cal to one another. An elaborate tunnel-marking system helped anyone

  who understood the system to navigate. This tunnel was not marked, and

  Timmy stood in the middle of it, observing the repeating light bars of the

  LEDs on both sides of the tunnel. He eyed the electrical and plumbing

  conduits, and the large two-foot wide air conduit that ran along the ceiling.

  Timmy wore filthy brown cargo pants and a white t-shirt that in no

  way resembled any hint of the color white. “Hello!” he yelled as he looked

  back and forth, confused as to which direction he was trying to go.

  The lights flickered, and Timmy’s heart sank momentarily. The lighting

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  never flickered or went out unless there was a problem. “Pete!” he yelled and waited for a response.

  The lights turned off. Timmy frantically searched for a cell phone, but

  he couldn’t find it on him. Then he could hear something clicking, very

  close to him.

  “Oh, please, not again,” Timmy whimpered as the lights came back on.

  There was nothing in front of him, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

  Causally turning around, he came face to face with a large Zorn drone.

  Timmy tried to run, but couldn’t move, frozen in terror. One of the legs

  slowly lifted to touch his forehead, where it stayed for an uncomfort-

  able amount of time. Then it dragged the tip across his forehead, causing

  Timmy intense pain.

  Timmy opened his eyes with alarm and breathing deeply in sharp

  heaves. Something was crawling across his forehead, and he swatted it away

  in a panic. He felt his hand hit the creature but never laid eyes on it as

  it scurried or flew away. His cheek was wet with drool, and the tent was

  nearly pitch black. It did a remarkable job filtering out the light from the

  tunnel. Wiping his cheek dry, he stood up and walked out into the tunnel,

  then headed to the little portable toilet they exchanged every month. As

  Timmy entered, he hoped the month was almost over. Taking as little time

  as possible, he left and doused his hands, arms, and face in sanitizer fluid.

  Walking back into the tent, he observed Pete rummaging through

  some of his own personal things on his side of the tent, having turned the

  light on.

  “Hey, I noticed you were awake, so I went to get some of my old

  paper notes.”

  “Didn’t you digitize everything?”

  “Yeah, but some of the tiny details got left out.”

  Timmy was only mildly curious as to what Pete was concerned with.

  Grabbing the last fresh t-shirt neatly folded in his bag, he put it on and

  walked out of the tent wearing nothing but sandals, shorts, and the shirt.

  He approached his workspace and, as he did, the orb, ever active, still

  provided its mundane flow of confusion. The workspace, once neat and

  tidy, now looked like a hoarder’s paradise. Piles of notes, observations and

  photos littered the entire area. Weeks ago, a stack of photos spilled onto the 269

  floor, but neither of them bothered to pick it up because it wasn’t worth their time. Most of the photos were hardly recognizable now, mixed with

  spilled water and dirt from the tunnel floor.

  Timmy went to his computer screen. The number of repeated symbols

  had jumped from one hundred and twenty-one to one hundred and thirty

  overnight. It was by far the most significant overnight jump he recalled.

  One of the repeated symbols was now a different color as well. Excitement

  burst from within

  “Hey!” he shouted.

  Pete walked by the desk, having just come from the tent. “
Yeah, I know.

  It happened right as you woke up.”

  “How do you know when I woke up?”

  “Because you stopped mumbling.”

  Timmy frowned and refocused his attention on the screen. Walking

  from the tent, he went to one of the two well-cushioned seats set up next to

  the orb. Timmy’s was blue and looked much like a comfortable computer

  chair from an office. Pete’s looked more like a fold-out camping chair, with

  cup holders and even the additional kick out for his feet. Timmy reached

  out and touched the orb, as he did every day, normally to no reaction.

  This morning, the moment he touched the orb, it flashed red, and all

  the glyphs disappeared. Timmy looked at it, both concerned and excited.

  “What happened?” Pete shouted from the computer tables as he scur-

  ried over to the orb.

  Timmy looked at his hand. “I touched it.”

  “We touch it all the time, though.” Pete walked up beside him and

  touched the now-featureless orb. “It’s not the first time its responded to

  you.” Pete looked at Timmy with a raised eyebrow. “Perhaps it’s not an

  anomaly. Maybe we should take more time to consider our first hypothesis.”

  “No, because it’s crazy and we did, for weeks. Nothing panned out,

  remember?” Timmy turned to touch the orb again, this time placing both

  hands on it.

  The orb responded by providing one glyph—a single dot—which

  remained still and frozen in position.

  “Wooah!” Pete reached out and touched the dot with his finger, but

  nothing happened.

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  Pete elbowed Timmy pretty hard, so Timmy reached out and placed his hand on the orb again. Nothing happened, and he turned to look at Pete.

  Pete’s eyes danced around for a moment between Timmy, his hand and

  the orb. “Just touch the dot.”

  Timmy let go of the orb and touched the dot with his finger. The

  moment he touched the dot, it brightened and disappeared. Timmy and

  Pete looked at each other with huge grins.

  Three seconds later, a single glyph of two dots appeared.

  “Do it!” Pete shouted.

  Timmy reached out again and using both his index and middle finger,

  he touched both dots.

  The glyph remained unmoving.

  “Maybe now it’s my turn!” Pete reached out and pressed the pair of

  dots. Again, nothing happened.