Hearts and Minds

by Dayton Ward

  “It’s a failsafe,” said Goswami as realization struck. “Son of a bitch. Majestic probably stuck it in there, in case we got cold feet. Maybe it was a fallback if we were incapacitated or killed during the trip out here.” He tapped the console, attempting to reset the arming switches and reactivate the separation controls. Nothing registered. It was as though that portion of the control panel had gone dead. “How long until the arming process completes?”

  Harper checked her readouts. “About five minutes. Same as if we’d gone through the process by the book.” She snorted. “Guess you can’t rush greatness or insanity.”

  “Can you disable the procedure or find a way around it?”

  The crew’s designated computer and software expert, Meredith Harper had learned her trade first as a network systems officer and later a cyberspace operations officer. There was, in Goswami’s experience, nothing she could not do if given a keyboard and sufficient time.

  “Are you asking me if I can hack Majestic’s super-secret doomsday program?” she asked. “Yeah, I think so. It helps that I know one of the people who wrote some of the mainline software.” When neither Goswami nor Park asked the obvious question, she added, “I look at her in the mirror every morning.”

  Goswami had activated a countdown timer on his console, which now read less than four and a half minutes. “Whatever you’re going to do, faster would be better.”

  “Hey,” said Park. “Something else is up. We’re transmitting.”

  “To whom?” asked Goswami. Was it possible Peacemaker’s computer was sending information back to Earth? How long would such a signal take to even reach home from this distance? Decades, he guessed.

  “It’s aimed at the planet, on a wide broadcast across multiple frequencies.” He toggled a pair of switches. “Listen.” In response to his actions, the cockpit’s recessed speakers came to life, and Goswami heard his own voice.

  “—and security of all our people, we are forced to answer these unprovoked actions against our planet. We cannot tolerate interlopers or invaders from other worlds, including yours.”

  Goswami felt a knot of dread forming in his gut.

  “Oh my god. That’s . . . that’s got to be something they recorded during one of our training runs, right?” As part of their repeated simulation training exercises, each of the Peacemaker astronauts had performed their assigned tasks down to the smallest detail. For Goswami, that meant reciting a set of prepared remarks that were similar to whatever message he would end up sending to the people of Sralanya just prior to launching the weapons package. Given what he had planned to do upon Peacemaker’s arrival here, he had hoped to have something profound to say. It would never measure up to those immortal words uttered by Neil Armstrong from the surface of the Moon or Shaun Christopher upon reaching Saturn, but he had hoped they would serve a noble purpose, rather than the agenda of those who sent him here.

  Instead, the people of Sralanya were hearing the preface to their destruction.

  “I think I’ve got it,” said Harper, blowing out her breath. “It’s not pretty, and I’ll have to do some serious cleaning up in this code when this is all over, but I think I can get us around this.”

  “Three minutes,” said Park, pointing to the timer on Goswami’s console.

  Feeling his stomach tightening, Goswami asked, “What now?”

  Her fingers moving almost too fast to follow, Harper typed extended strings of indecipherable commands to her terminal. Line after line of rapid-fire text filled her screen. From what Goswami could tell, she was rewriting entire sections of whatever subroutine had been embedded into the ship’s computer, or simply substituting the offending code with entirely new pieces of her own creation. He did not care about the details, so long as it worked.

  Harper stabbed at the Enter key with one finger and all of the script on her screen vanished, replaced by a technical schematic of the weapons package. On the console between them, Goswami saw all of the indicators on the platform’s arming panel go dark.

  “That’s it?” asked Park.

  “I think so. Try the separation sequence again.”

  With tentative fingers, Goswami reached for the control panel. “Here we go.”

  He flipped each of the switches for the platform separation sequence, watching with increasing relief as the indicators above each toggle lit up as before. “That’s it.”

  “Push the button,” snapped Park. “Before the damned thing changes its mind.”

  “Yeah.” Goswami reached for the switch marked Commit and flipped it.

  The effect was immediate, with the entire cockpit jerking as explosive bolts fired around the collar linking Peacemaker to the weapons platform. Through the cockpit canopy, the crew watched as the massive cylinder disconnected from the rest of the ship and began falling away. Within seconds the entire construct was visible, the act of its separation pushing it into a slow tumble as it drifted in the void.

  “It won’t get caught by the planet’s gravity,” said Harper. “Will it?”

  Goswami shook his head. “We’re still far enough away that it shouldn’t.” Manipulating the controls for the thrusters one again, he guided the ship back to its original heading, centering Sralanya once more in the cockpit windows.

  “Hit the radio,” he said, taken once again by the sight of the planet. “Let’s try to fix this somehow.”

  Behind him, Park replied, “Go ahead, Val.”

  Clearing his throat, Goswami said, “People of Sralanya, I bring you greetings from the planet Earth. The craft we have used to travel to your world is actually one you sent to us some time ago. We have returned it to you, in what we hope is a gesture of peace. I regret the earlier message that implied a threat to your planet. Rest assured, that is not the case. We intend no harm toward you and welcome the opportunity to establish peaceful contact.”

  “Not bad for off the cuff,” said Harper.

  A string of low-pitched beeps from her console made her shift in her seat, and she pointed at another row of indicators. “Uh-oh. Look at this. Lidar’s showing a couple of pings.” She looked to her companions. “It’s a pair of ships, heading right for us.”

  “You’re sure?” asked Park.

  Harper nodded. “Oh, yeah. No doubt about it.”

  The three astronauts said nothing, waiting in nervous silence to see what happened next. Within moments the ships moved into view, approaching from opposing angles and converging on the Peacemaker. According to the light detection and ranging, or lidar, system, the new arrivals were less than fifty kilometers away, but even from that distance they looked enormous. Their curved, wedge-like shapes gave them an ominous, predatory appearance Goswami found unsettling.

  “I don’t know about this,” said Park.

  As the Peacemaker carried no armaments, it had no means of defending itself should Eizand ships decide to attack, not that Goswami had any desire to start a fight. Their situation was precarious enough without adding to the trouble.

  We’re the aliens here. Remember?

  Now it was they who were trespassing. In light of that, and particularly the events of the past few moments, he knew that the best option was cooperation, honesty, and respect. The safety of Earth itself might well be hanging in the balance, based on what he did right here and now.

  No pressure, right?

  28

  Sralanya

  2386

  Silence hung in the room as the visual recording faded, leaving behind only the blank computer monitor. Standing to one side, Picard watched Presider Hilonu’s face go through a gamut of expressions, from shock to disbelief, doubt to anger, and confusion to sadness. With the Enterprise’s assistance, Dina Elfiki was able to channel a broadcast of the computer core’s revealing visual record across the planet. The Eizand leader had said nothing throughout the playback of the visual record, and neither had Picard pressed her with questions or his own observations from watching the recording. He knew that Hilonu would have to come to
her own conclusions, on her own terms, if there was to be any hope of convincing her to question everything she had accepted since childhood as immutable truth.

  “I . . .” she began. “I do not know what to say, Captain. All of this is . . . rather overwhelming. I can only imagine what people around the world must be thinking and feeling at this moment.”

  Picard nodded. “I understand, Presider. It is rather a lot to absorb all at once.”

  Millions of Eizand had watched the archival footage of the Peacemaker’s actions. The file had come to an abrupt end soon after the crew learned of the approaching ships, and despite Elfiki’s best efforts, that portion of the computer core’s data storage matrix was damaged beyond repair. This would raise obvious questions as to the fate of the astronauts as well as the events that transpired following their capture, but Picard suspected this revelation would spur a host of investigations as the Eizand people demanded a full accounting of the events that had shaped their civilization for generations.

  A tall order, that.

  In truth, Picard was having trouble keeping his own emotions in check. A wave of immense relief flooded over him upon learning that the Peacemaker crew had not carried out the mission that had sent them here in the first place. There remained many questions, and uncounted more would be asked in the coming days as Hilonu and all the Eizand people were forced to reevaluate what they knew of their past. At least now there could be mutual cooperation as they sought answers.

  “I honestly do not know how to proceed,” she said. “There is so much to say, and so much to do. Never in my life did I dream I would ever have to face something like this.” She looked to Picard. “However, I am gratified to know that my initial feelings about you were correct, Captain. You are a being of noble character, and I am relieved to know that you are but one representative of a race who values such things.”

  Picard replied, “I do my best to meet that standard, Presider, but there are those who are far more adept at it.”

  “It will be difficult, leading my people as we all attempt to make sense of something like this, but it must be done.” She turned to him. “I am hopeful that you would be willing to help me educate our people about yours.”

  Standing next to the captain, T’Ryssa Chen replied, “We’d be honored to assist in any way we can, Presider.” The lieutenant, according to Worf’s rather harried update following the transport of Picard and Elfiki to Hilonu’s office, had insisted on being beamed down as well. Chen argued that as the ship’s contact specialist, it was her place to be at the captain’s side in a situation such as this, and relations with the Eizand people were about to undergo a major shift, one way or another. Worf agreed with her reasoning and managed to transport Chen to the surface before maneuvering the Enterprise away from the planet.

  “Such graciousness,” said Hilonu, her voice low and humble. “Such forgiveness, in the wake of all that has happened. Those three humans, in a single moment, demonstrated more compassion and respect for our people than those we once trusted to lead us. Everything that happened afterward, that is our burden. We are to blame for our own fate.” She shook her head. “Most remarkable.”

  “We still don’t know how the war was started,” said Elfiki. “There are no other visual records dated later than what we’ve already seen. Whatever happened after the crew was captured is anybody’s guess. All we know is that they did jettison the weapons platform. We didn’t detect any objects of that size or configuration drifting anywhere in the system, so it’s a good bet that whoever captured the Peacemaker seized the platform as well.”

  Moving to where Elfiki stood before the makeshift computer setup, Hilonu said, “Tevent Coalition forces took the ship into custody. It stands to reason that they acquired your weapons. The narrative we have always been taught is that the humans attacked us and our response was a catastrophic overreaction.” She paused, her expression turning to one of sadness. “If events did not play out in that fashion, then we as a people now face considerable questions about our own history.”

  The door to her office opened, and Lieutenant Konya entered the room, accompanying a young Eizand male Picard recognized from his previous visits as one of Hilonu’s aides. He carried an electronic tablet, and he appeared anxious.

  “Sorry for the interruption,” said Konya, “but the presider’s assistant says he has some urgent business for her.”

  “What is it?” asked Hilonu, motioning for the aide to join him.

  The young male, obviously nervous, replied, “We are being contacted by several world leaders, Presider. All of them have seen the visual records. Many are demanding answers. There have been calls for investigations, meetings, one has even suggested a summit of all national leaders.”

  “I need to speak with our military commanders.” Hilonu walked toward her desk. “They need to be alerted.” She looked to Picard. “I suspect that emotions will be in turmoil, at least until there has been time to reflect on what we have seen. We need to be in control of that response.”

  Picard nodded. “Agreed.” Then he tapped his combadge. “Picard to Enterprise.”

  Over the open channel, Commander Worf responded, “Enterprise. Worf here, sir.”

  “Status report, Number One.”

  “We are maintaining a safe distance from the planet. We’ve taken some damage, but Commander La Forge reports it is manageable, and repair teams are already working. I can report that we did not endanger any of the manned satellites orbiting the planet. However, we are prepared to return to the planet to extract you even with the defensive systems still active.”

  “I will order the defense network to discontinue its protective measures,” said Hilonu. “Your ship will be free to approach our world without further obstruction, Captain.”

  Thankful that no casualties were suffered, Picard allowed himself a sigh of relief.

  “Thank you, Presider. Mister Worf, are you continuing to scan broadcast transmissions on the planet?”

  “Yes, sir. There are a number of news reports and other transmissions pertaining to the broadcast. World leaders are contacting one another, and there have been several attempts to reach the Tevent Coalition leadership.”

  “What about military responses? Has there been any escalation in that regard?”

  “None that we’ve been able to detect, sir. In fact, several leaders of smaller nation-states have explicitly ordered their military forces to remain in place or stand down. These directives appear to be in concert for calls to gather government leaders.”

  Buoyed by the news, Picard turned to Hilonu. “Presider, it seems your counterparts around your world are as interested in finding the truth as you are.”

  “Are they as afraid of the truth as I am?” asked Hilonu.

  “Maybe,” said Elfiki, “but that doesn’t sound like it’s necessarily a bad thing.”

  Chen added, “Exactly. It sounds like they want the same thing you want, Presider: answers, instead of doing something hasty and regrettable, and understanding what really happened and maybe keep it from happening again.”

  Hilonu nodded. “Hasty and regrettable. That appears to be at the heart of all that we did to ourselves. And if we do not like what that truth reveals? What then?”

  “Your people are most fortunate, Presider,” replied Picard. “They survived annihilation and forged themselves a second chance through sheer force of will. The Eizand are strong and determined. I find it difficult to believe that you won’t find a way of getting through this.”

  She lowered her gaze to her desk, resting her hands atop its surface, and Picard watched her shoulders sag as though she only now was beginning to comprehend the weight of everything that she soon would be facing. There were challenges ahead, and she would need to be strong and patient in order to guide those who had looked to her for leadership and wisdom. Picard imagined her counterparts in offices like this around the world were contemplating similar thoughts, and wondering how they would rise to the tests and
trials that lay ahead for all the Eizand people.

  But they did not have to do it alone.

  “Presider,” he said, “this will not be an easy revelation for the Federation to accept either. Our people will also have to acknowledge and recognize our role in what happened here, despite it occurring long before there was a Federation. As a citizen of Earth, I pledge our support to you and your people. The path to the truth is a long one, but we can travel it together, if you’ll allow us to walk with you.”

  For the first time since the meeting began, Hilonu smiled. “I cannot speak for other leaders, or even other citizens, but I know that I would welcome that, Captain.” She walked to the window, and Picard moved to stand with her, taking in the view of Ponval. Below them and beyond the grounds of the Tevent Coalition capital, hundreds of Eizand citizens now stood at the fences, or were making their way in this direction. There were no loud or unnerving protests. There was no murmur of discontent. Instead, they all seemed to just be standing there, waiting to hear from their leader.

  “I need to make a statement,” she said, gesturing to her aide, who remained by her desk. “As quickly as possible. We need to project calm and confidence. The people will expect as much, and should accept nothing less.” As the assistant left the office to carry out his assignment, Hilonu regarded Picard. “That was an easy first step. The ones to come will be much harder.”

  “But the destination is worthwhile, Presider. As is the journey.”

  Hilonu returned her attention to the crowd gathering outside the capital. She placed her hand on the window, and Picard heard the sounds of reaction from the congregation below. The people wanted answers, and it fell to their leader to provide them.

  After a moment, she said, “It occurs to me that what happens today, and in the days to come, may very well define my legacy for all time as a leader of this nation. Nothing else I say or do will be so remembered.”

  “Perhaps not,” said Picard. “However, you have a unique opportunity to help shape the course of history not just for those who elected you, but for all Eizand. There are no greater ambitions to pursue.”