It was a loaded comment, but Susanna didn’t take the bait. She had her customer service smile plastered firmly on her face, the one she used at work, the one that never wavered however much of a shit the other person was being.
Sofia tried to find things to say as they sipped, but it felt like sitting in a cage with two circling tigers. She just hoped they wouldn’t try to rip each other apart. Eventually, though, the conversation faltered and halted, and an awkward silence took its place.
“Well, I’m sure Tom probably has things to do.” Suse smiled benignly and gathered the empty mugs. “And we really have to get going, darling. Lunch at Andrew’s, remember?” Susanna planted a possessive kiss on Sofia’s head as she left for the kitchen.
Tuurek, however, didn’t move. He sat as though frozen, an expression of surprise on his face. He glanced at Sofia, realization rippling across the handsome features. And then he collapsed, heavily, twitching in every limb.
Sofia knelt and set a hand on his head. A good-bye of sorts. Earth would be safe, after all. It was a beautiful planet, her beautiful planet. Pity so many of the native plants were fatal to her kind, as she’d discovered to her peril five years ago on a distant heather-strewn hillside. She’d almost died, then, would have died if it hadn’t been for that diligent German hiker with the allergy meds in his backpack.
She heard a noise and looked up. Susanna was standing there, staring in horror at the dying creature on her living room rug. She stumbled over to the phone but Sofia was up like a flash, drawing her away, shaking her head. Suse gasped in sudden understanding.
“Oh Sofia, what have you done?”
“It’s a long story,” Sofia replied. “But he can’t hurt us now, so we have time. We have all the time in the world.”
Susanna was still looking back at Tuurek. Sofia placed a gentle finger under her bedmate’s chin and turned her face towards her. “Susanna, darling Susanna, I have to tell you a tale. It’s a tale of life and death; the death of my planet and the beginning of my life upon yours.”
Geometry
by Alex Davis
I cannot explain what has happened to us. The very suggestion is insanity, but after the things I have seen... I am sorry, but we have failed in our objective. How were we supposed to succeed when the stars themselves were against us?
Final Transmission, Dionysus III, 24th May 2037
***
“Are you getting this?”
I nod, watching the pictures from the Aphrodite I. The scout craft has covered the distance to the strange vessel in half an hour, and I'm feeling steadily tenser.
“Yeah, I'm getting it, captain.”
“It's more complicated than we thought.”
“It is that. I wish we had a mathematician aboard to see it.”
“If only. Skeleton crew, that's what we were told. But the architecture is incredible.”
Howard isn't joking – what had looked like a smooth surface is in fact covered with angles and protruding shapes: triangles, squares, hexagons and a host I can't even name.
“What would you say the craftsmanship suggests?”
“I don't know if it suggests anything. Maybe the designer was just really anal.”
Howard laughs, but it comes out as a hiss.
“Maybe. Keep the feed coming, OK?”
“Sure thing. We should be on board within minutes.”
“OK. Over and out.”
“All going OK?”
I jump at Tom's voice behind me, the nerves of the expedition coming out. I turn around to see him smiling. 'It's not funny to sneak up on people like that.'
“I suppose it shouldn't be.”
“What do you want?”
“Nothing. Just seeing how it's going.”
“Fine, I suppose.”
“I wish I could have gone.”
“Yeah, I wish you had too.”
He frowns, unable to come up with a response, so just walks past me to the viewport.
“It's quite something out there, isn't it?”
“What do you mean?”
“That view. The ship, the station, the stars...”
“It's just space, the same as the rest of it.”
“Maybe. I can't stop, anyway. I've got some calculations to do. We need to ensure we have enough fuel for the journey.”
“Yeah, course. How long before we need to move on?”
“We should have a day or so. We might have to change trajectory if it's any longer.”
I nod, watching him promptly leave the bridge.
When he's gone, I look out at the stars. It is beautiful, now I look at it. I'd never noticed it before. Something about the space station makes the starscape look different. Maybe the placement of the stars adds to the effect, designs and patterns you can pick out if you look just long enough.
“Jenny? Jen, are you there?”
“Here, Howard. Sorry about that.”
“No problems. We've just pulled into port. This place is absolutely huge.”
“I can see it.”
“It doesn't make sense for such a small space station.”
“Must have been designed for short stays.”
“I suppose so. There were three or four ports. That must take up half of the space station. Are you getting the pictures?”
“Yeah, it's not as... alien as I expected.”
The landing port is a cathedral-like metal space, although through the crackles I can see a similar geometric quality to the design to the exterior.
“We've got some clearer readings now we're on board. No lifesigns, as we expected. The vessel is running on minimum power; just trace energy signatures throughout. Maybe it'll power up when it realises it has visitors.”
“Don't say that.”
“Jenny, try and relax. I know you were against this, but it's not making things any easier.”
Through Howard's camera lens I see Paul looking around at the surroundings.
“Sorry, Howard. I'm trying.”
“Just keep watching. Let us know if you see anything of interest.'
“Sure thing. How's Paul doing?”
Howard turns to his companion, the most junior crew member, and Paul gives a generous thumbs-up.
“I think he's pretty excited about the whole thing.”
“Make sure he doesn't get too carried away.”
“Don't worry, I'll keep him in check. And stop worrying. That's a direct order.”
“OK, I'll try.”
***
Tom reemerges much quicker than I had expected.
“hat are you doing back so soon?” I ask.
“The bridge is open to everyone.”
“I know, but-”
“I can't seem to make the calculations work.”
“What do you mean?”
“It's not really my area of expertise, but when I first did the sums I thought we had plenty of fuel. Maybe I miscalculated it...”
“Look, Tom, what are you driving at?”
“We might need to call the mission short, head back from here.”
“What? Do we need to pull Howard and Paul out?”
“No, I don't think we should.”
“Well, if it means we can't complete the mission...”
“Look, I know we were sent here with a mission, the four of us. You know why we had such a small group?”
“No, why?”
“Because this was a grunt mission, a trawl through empty space. We were sent here to find nothing; to confirm what they already know.”
“But we did find something.”
“Exactly. That's what I'm saying. They can send some other poor crew of suckers to circle the galactic block. We have a chance to explore something ... incredible here.”
“I think we should get them out and stick to what we were sent for.”
“Why don't you ask Howard – the captain – yourself, see what he makes of i
t? The fact he's over there tells me exactly what he'd say.”
“You don't know that.”
“Just ask him.”
“Jenny. Jenny, are you there?”
I abandon the conversation with Tom, dashing towards the console. Tom just stands where he was, hands on hips, tension fuming off him.
“Yes, captain, right here.”
“We've just left the landing port and all the lights have come on, all the consoles, everything.”
“What does it look like? The images aren't great.”
The static has become much worse since we last spoke, offering only occasional glimpses.
“It's a square room, but it has more shapes coming out of the walls.”
“More of them?”
“Yeah, mostly triangles. I think they must control this thing somehow.”
“Don't touch it!”
“Trust me, I'm going to tinker as little as I can.”
The picture clears up, and the cube room they inhabit is shown. I'm sure they are controls, but I wouldn't like to guess how they might function. Again it doesn't scream vast alien intelligence to me, but maybe there is more at work than it seems.
“I can see it now, captain.”
“Good. We're going to try and head on deeper.”
“Wait. Before you do that, we have to let you know something.”
“We? Are you and Tom actually talking to each other?”
“As far as it goes. Look, there's been a miscalculation of the fuel volumes and the travelling time we have left.”
“Get to the point, Jenny.”
“All right. Either we explore this space station, or we carry out the original mission. If we spend the time checking this out, we have to head straight back to HQ.”
The shot on the monitor sees Howard turn to Paul, his expression unreadable beneath his visor. He gives another thumbs up, misreading the captain's intent.
“We'll carry on here.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“It'd be insane to pass up this kind of opportunity.”
“We could all lose our jobs for this.”
“There are other jobs out there, Jenny, lots of them. As far as I know, there's only ever been one alien space station found.”
“HQ won't be happy.”
“Well then just make sure HQ doesn't catch on. I'll take full responsibility for everything.”
“I don't know if they'll buy that.”
“Jenny, if you want to run to your quarters and hide, then you're more than welcome to do so. We'll say you took no part. It'll help keep your job, at least. But I want you to stay and be a part of this thing.”
I lean back from the monitor, feeling Tom's eyes boring into the back of my skull, and I sigh deeply.
“All right, captain.”
“Thank you, Jenny. We're going to try and open this next door.”
“Sure thing, Howard.”
“What did I tell you?” says Tom.
“Yeah, yeah, you told me. I still think HQ will have his nuts.”
“I don't think he cares. This is a chance to be a part of human history.”
He takes a step back, towards the viewport, his eyes wide.
“Tom, what is it?”
“I don't know.”
“What do you mean, you don't know?”
“I've got to go and check something.”
“Tom, is it dangerous?”
“No, no. I'm sure it's nothing. I think I've just been staring at stars too long.”
Tom wanders off the bridge. I shake my head, wondering if this whole experience is starting to get to him. He's hardly been able to bear being on the bridge. He's always been far more comfortable in the engine room or with the computers. That's his domain, and we pretty much leave him to it, provided everything works.
“Jenny, we're in.”
“Captain?”
“The door to the next chamber. Paul figured out how to open it – the triangle comes apart if you push down all three points.”
“Do they all do that?”
“No, only selected ones.”
“Just be careful what you play with.”
“Are you getting this? This corridor is really something.”
The image shows a triangular corridor, which seems to rotate in the camera. I tap the screen, wondering if that is just an impression, but it is pretty clearly spinning.
“How are you planning to get down there?”
“It's going to be awkward. Do you see the lights?”
“I can't quite ... make them out.”
“Each wall is covered with little lights. I mean, they're moving – I think they're moving independent of the corridor. It's pretty confusing to watch. I think we can get down there, provided we're on the right surface at the right time.”
“You don't think it'll change or anything?”
“No telling till we get there. But since I can't see any deadly spikes, we're going to brave it. I'll let you know what's at the end of the corridor.”
The voice cuts out, and I forget to sign off as Tom rushes past me. He looks even more worried than when he left, notebook in one hand and pencil in the other. I watch him for a moment before asking “What are you doing?”
He proceeds to scribble frantically – I can see the space station as his focus, but around that he seems to just be pockmarking the page with points. Those must be the stars, but what that has to do with anything I couldn't guess.
“I'm just... I'm drawing what we're seeing.”
“You don't have to draw it. The ship takes an image every couple of hours. I mean, I can get the images up for you easily...”
“No, no. It's sooner than that.”
“Sooner... what's sooner than that?”
“The movement...”
“Tom, what are you talking about?' I ask him, but he just dashes away from the bridge. I watch him uneasily, wondering if he is finally starting to lose it. HQ warned us that this sort of thing could happen – separation from someone's usual life, their family and friends, even the simplest of things like normal food and drink, can have a profound effect on someone. He's a first timer as well – I've at least been through a couple of short flights before, which has helped me feel more prepared for this. Tom might be coming unhinged – his behaviour lately has been erratic, and his last few appearances haven't done anything to help me feel better. We might not have a psychologist on board, but my degree has given me some sort of insight.
“Jenny, we're through.”
I turn back to the monitor, seeing a metallic double door, scrambled intermittently with static. The door is again covered in geometric shapes, this time etched on rather than sculpted.
“What do you think it means?”
“I've got no idea. The shapes must all mean something – we've established that already. They might be like Egyptian hieroglyphics or something. Mind you, it's meaningless until you figure out how to translate it.”
“Yeah, we're pretty much feeling our way in the dark. How are we doing for oxygen?”
“Absolutely fine. You've got about three hours left.”
“And the journey here was half an hour, right?”
“It was a little less, but I wouldn't like to cut it too fine.”
“Of course you wouldn't.' I can almost hear Howard's sarcastic smile. 'That gives us an hour and a half, maybe two. I'd like to see what's beyond this door.”
“I think it could be the bridge – that's what the layout of the ship would suggest.”
“You may be right. Well, maybe this will tell us some more.”
I watch Howard fumble around some of the shapes in front of him, his arm prodding and poking awkwardly at them. A particular triangle recedes under his hand, and I gasp as the door slides slowly open. Howard turns to Paul, and he takes a step backwards.
“Come on, Paul. Stay with me here.”
Paul
nods his helmeted head, and Howard's camera shifts forward. The room in front of them is undoubtedly the bridge, based purely on its size and the technology housed there. It contains screens, most of them rotating with long strands of angular shapes. The centre of the bridge holds a huge holographic image, but the image skips as Howard tries to assess it. He steps forward, getting closer to it. As he nears it, I can see that the central shape on the projection is undoubtedly the space station, but the rest of it looks like nonsense. There are more shapes – diamonds, cubes, triangles, circles – all moving around it, repeating the same motions over and over again.
“What is this all about?”
“I don't know. It could mean anything.”
“I'm going to take a look around. I wonder who built this place?”
“Who knows? I suppose the bigger question is why did they leave it abandoned?”
“No idea. I mean, everything seems to work.”
“Maybe there's something we're not seeing.”
“You're such a doom-monger, Jenny. I can't figure out what these computers are for. There's nothing that would seem to navigate at all. There's not even a viewport in here.”
“Are you serious?”
He pans his head cam around, the 360 revealing nothing but banks of computers and cold metal walls.
“Are you sure it's the bridge?”
“It all points to that. You know that as well as I do.”
“I know, but how is anyone supposed to see where it's going?”
“Wait a minute, Paul's saying something to me.”
There's a moment of silence, and I watch while Howard nods.
“That's an interesting theory.”
“What?”
“Paul think it's possible the station isn't even meant to move.'
'Isn't even meant to move? That's ridiculous.”
“Why is it so ridiculous? I mean, we've never had a station that was meant to be static. At worst they had to move to get where they were meant to be.”
“So you're suggesting that this was built here just to sit here?”
“Maybe. How else do you explain the lack of a viewport?”
“I suppose so. I just don't know what it would be doing there,”
I hear Tom come in, but I don't spare him a glance as Howard wanders the bridge some more. Tom makes me jump by peering over my shoulder, watching intently at the screen. “You OK there, Tom?”
Aliens - The Truth is Coming (Book of Aliens 1) Page 2
