The First Exoplanet

by T. J. Sedgwick

  He considered his being as a soldier versus a father and husband. It was almost as if he had split personalities; he was robotic, cold, and emotionless when operational. The truth was, though, he loved every minute of it, in the zone, tapping into the warrior traits of his persona. On the other hand, he knew he was no psychopath; not like some he’d seen in the services. Although he could take enemy life without compunction, it was just effective compartmentalisation, as any soldier needs if they are to stay sane after their first kill. Chip concluded it was fair: live by the sword, die by the sword. These were armed enemies and not even human in this case. He relished his family life: the warmth, the safety, the camaraderie with his boys and wife. Thinking about it now would do him no good, so he pushed it to the back of his mind as he saw the target from the diametrically opposite side to his fighting brothers.

  He decided to take a long-range shot and squatted down on one knee, providing a stable base for his shoulder pod to fire from. He acquired the target and fired, the whooshing projectile powering forward between the giant tree trunks. He fired again—this time at the wheels. He took cover immediately. He heard the explosions, then the percussion waves pulsing through his chest at the speed of sound moments later.

  “Target confirmed destroyed,” reported Motor over the headset, witnessing his sergeant’s handy-work. “Make your way to meet us at the new recon point: Bristol. We can’t stay at the scene of the engagement, it’s the first place they’ll look. It’s on all your HUD maps now. Let’s move out. Well done, Chip.”

  “Thanks, Cap. On my way to recon point Bristol,” Chip replied.

  He thought awhile as he double-timed to the new recon point, before asking, “Guys, I’m assuming the AFVs were either AI or remotely controlled, right? I mean you didn't see any aliens stumble out, did you?”

  “Must have been drones, Chip. Didn't even see a way to get into the things—no hatches or doors, just seamless plates of armour,” Motor said.

  Ten minutes later, feeling the worse for wear in the heavy gravity, the patrol reunited at recon point Bristol. Although still under the eerie glow of the high forest canopy, for the first time they could see a break in the forest and the alien base to the north. The low, orangey glow of the base’s lights stretched across their field of vision from the far left to the far right. Stealthy, but detectable, the men prepared themselves to step into the lions’ den and locate Santa Maria.

  Chapter Sixteen

  October 14, 2061 Planet Gaia, Avendano System

  The lighting was low compared to the way a human base would have been lit at night during regular operations, but it was normal for the aliens that had evolved in the constant dim half-light of the Gaian forests.

  The four men lay prone in the shallow depression on the forest bordering the alien base. There was nothing to be gained from standing just because they had their battlesuits on. The skirmish with the AFVs had convinced them they weren’t totally undetectable. Only with night vision were they able to make out any detail and two things surprised Motor. Firstly, the extent of the base, which seemed to stretch across most of his arc of vision. It would have been a major military site in human terms. Secondly, the low-rise of the buildings looked curious. The blocky structures protruded no more than a human storey above the flat ground the complex was built upon, except for one, which was in the centre of the complex—a tall, cuboidal block with a slightly larger black cube atop. There was also a distinct lack of fenestrations of any description; in fact, the various structures, probably some three minutes’ walk away across the cleared strip of forest, looked like a series of low, reddish concrete blocks. What was also curious was the lack of aliens or vehicles; although it did look like the various buildings had roads in between.

  “They’re not the galaxy’s best architects are they?” remarked Crier.

  “Our bases aren't much better,” Chip replied.

  “What do you think the tall structure is?” Motor asked his men, reflexively pointing with his index finger even though he was hidden from view by his battlesuit.

  “I’m thinking maybe a guard tower?” hazarded Fuzzy, unsure.

  “Yeah, I was thinking similar—guard or observation post. No inner perimeter fence around the base, though, which is nice of them,” said Crier.

  “Well, let’s not assume, guys. They could’ve mined the whole clearing to the edge of the base for all we know,” said Motor.

  “See that?” Chip asked, referring to the train of wheeled pods snaking from behind one building into the foreground. All but one of the pods in the train turned left and followed the line of a long, low building to the right of their viewpoint. The single pod broke out from the middle of the train and continued in the opposite direction, taking another right between two blocks and disappearing from view. The train to their right then seemed to disappear into a subsurface ramp, descending to who-knew-where.

  “Base transportation by the looks of it,” concluded Motor.

  “Could we hitch a ride do you think?” asked Fuzz.

  “Not a good idea, Fuzz. We’d have no control over where it’d be going. We’ve got the advantage, being invisible in open space, but that advantage quickly erodes in enclosed areas. Unfortunately, we will have to be in some enclosed areas at some point, but a small transport pod like that is out of the question,” said Motor firmly.

  They sat and observed for a while. They had around thirteen hours until day break; although that was of limited importance so long as their battlesuits remained functional. But nothing was perfect and the battlesuits could get damaged or even malfunction whereby darkness would once again become a vital ally. They needed to get to point Plymouth – the codename for the presumed entry point of the Santa Maria probe into the base as last seen from orbit – or find another way in. Their lack of Hummingbird recon drones was now hampering them enormously; the ground that could have been surveyed would have made the job of finding the probe a lot easier. And time was of the essence in one way: the longer the aliens had the probe, the further along the road to reverse engineering it they could be.

  Two kilometres away, rising from the far side of the base, were two points of bright light, which then shot off into the distance with a low rumble.

  “A pair of the fighters like the ones that attacked us on the way down,” said Crier.

  “Patrol probably. Not coming this way and that’s all that matters at the moment,” remarked Chip.

  From their viewpoint, it was hard to see the majority of the base past the long, low buildings in the foreground.

  “Crier, I’m gonna need you to do something,” said Motor.

  “Sure, Cap.”

  “I’m marking it on your HUD now just to our southeast; third tree back from the edge. Get up to the canopy to get a good vantage point on the rest of the base. Send the feed down to our contact lens displays. We need to get a better understanding of this base before we go in,” said Motor.

  “Ok, on it. Moving now,” Crier replied as he moved to the base of the tree. Climbing the hundred-metre high tree in Gaia’s heavy gravity was not something he was going to attempt, even leaving his backpack on the ground. Positioning the tree between himself and the base in case they were somehow able to observe him, he activated his arm and leg thrusters to levitate himself upwards. He steadily climbed past the glowing points of bioluminescence. Crier couldn’t make out any detail and didn’t have time to pick up whatever it was and start examining it. Keep it simple, no undue risks, however seemingly small. He grabbed onto the first sturdy strut of the network of branches, which supported the flat fronds of the canopy. Keeping his thrusters idling over, he hauled his body aloft until he managed to get a footing on a branch. Switching off his thrusters he pushed himself past two overlapping fronds and above the forest roof. Behind him, the flat sea of canopy stretched as far as the eye could see. In front of him lay the base. Remaining above the trunk for stability, he laid prone, observing the alien stronghold.

  “Okay, y
ou should be able to see what I see now, guys,” said Crier to the rest of his team below.

  “Confirm that, Crier,” said Motor, before Chip and Fuzzy confirmed the same.

  From Crier’s viewpoint he could see the entire base, with the treeline delineating the opposite side some three kilometres away. The haze seemed less apparent over the base, probably due to the lower humidity there than in the forest and being a more open space. Over the far side of the facility detail was difficult to make out. Starting with the closest buildings there were three long, low blocks with flat roofs and gaps in between where wide roads ran. There was no grass or any other kind of plant on the non-built-up land—just bare ground and gravel by the look of it. The rightmost building of the three was deeper than the other two, which were about five times as long as they were wide. Behind the far left of the three was a large, L-shaped block several times larger than the largest of the three in the foreground. This building was significant as it was just to the east of the Santa Maria probe’s last known position. Crier zoomed in using his HK750 sight. There was a road leading into the forest to the west of that point. Crier looked more carefully at the road, following it up to the L-shaped building. It stopped short of the building and, where it did, he could see something at the end of the road: it was a circle, coloured a slightly lighter shade than the road with a join of some sort cutting through its centre.

  “Looks like an entrance and it’s precisely where the probe disappeared,” said Crier.

  “Must’ve taken it into a tunnel or underground facility,” said Motor.

  Further off in the mid-ground and to the right was a row of eight blocks—the first they’d seen with doors. They looked like sectional, up-and-over garage doors, but the width of each was many times that of a garage. The only open door revealed a downward sloping ramp. Just as Crier was about to speak, a figure emerged up the slope—the figure of a robot the height of two men. It was a humanoid shape, clad in matt-black armour, and as it advanced methodically up the ramp Crier could see it had a long tail extending from its lower back to the ground. The robot walked a short distance onto the open ground between the buildings then abruptly stopped.

  “Big bastard, isn’t he? Autonomous you think?” asked Crier.

  Just as Motor was about to answer, the front of the bot opened up and they got their first direct view of an alien.

  “Does that answer your questions? It’s an exoskeleton, not a bot,” said a surprised Motor.

  “Looks like a bloody upright-standing dinosaur with a tail!” exclaimed Chip.

  “Enormous black eyes… Size of freakin’ saucers!” cried Fuzz.

  “Let’s just take your measurements... Two-point-eight metres tall, approximate mass based on average human density is about three hundred and twenty kilos. What the hell is it doing?” Crier wondered aloud.

  “Looks like he’s fiddling around inside the exoskeleton. Perhaps it broke down and he’s fixing it,” guessed Chip.

  Zooming in on the alien figure to get more detail, Crier continued, “Got three fingers and opposing thumb. Can’t tell what his colour is too well by sight, but wavelength-corrected for ambient light it’s saying an orangey-brown colour, similar to the bare dirt around this place, maybe a little darker. Makes some sort of sense I suppose. Scaly skin, like a snake.”

  “Try to zoom on his mouth, Crier,” requested Fuzz.

  Crier zoomed in, transmitting the feed to Fuzz and the team.

  “Just as that scientist, Ken Dawkins, predicted—carnivore, look at the shape of the teeth. I read his exobiology report. It said that the dominant species would most probably be a predator because they have to outwit their prey and the biosphere can’t support as many meat eaters as herbivores,” explained Fuzzy.

  “But doesn't that mean planter eaters need to be smart too, to outwit their predators?” countered Motor.

  “Sure, but they can afford to lose some of their number because there’s more of them and all they need to outwit are some plants!” said Fuzz, smiling, although not totally sure he could remember the exobiology report fully.

  “And we care about this science lesson because?” asked Chip sardonically.

  Motor stepped in, seeing its relevance. “Because it means they’ll have a natural aggression, which I guess is obvious, but good to know. Right, to business. What other way do you see in there, Crier?”

  Pulling his gaze away from the fascinating, but no doubt dangerous, creature, Crier scanned the road network and noticed something. “You know the circular split-doors – what we assume are doors – we saw on the road... Hang on a minute—” he adjusted his view back to the metallic-looking tunnel entrance near the road into the forest “—here?”

  “Yep, I see it,” said Motor.

  “Well, there’s another one… Here,” he said, pointing to the right of the three foreground buildings. “And here,” he continued, looking at the road in front of the closest of the three long buildings—the one on the far left. “Hard to see from your viewpoint in that depression, but from here I can see. Look, I’ve tagged them on your augmented display.”

  “Well, that’s wonderful, Crier,” said Chip, “but how the hell do we open them? Demo charge?”

  “We can’t do that—stealth is our best friend here, guys, and it looks like we’re well hidden for the time being. No, we need to pick our entrance and wait. They must go in or out at some point using these if they are what we think they are, which means they’ll be opening them up at some point,” advised Motor.

  Crier came down from the canopy and the four humans crawled prone across the gap between recon point Bristol and the nearest entry hatch. The hatch was the width of a two-lane road tunnel and was flush with the road surface. There was a small gap across the middle indicating that the metal circle would retract into the road, splitting open in the middle. The road appeared to be a simple compact of crushed, grey stones and gravel, the doors a light grey metal alloy with knurling pattern embossed on it. Fuzz and Motor lay on the northern side of the door, up against the low building with no doors and no windows—in fact no features at all from ground level except for a few round holes, perhaps air vent grills. Chip and Crier lay opposite them, to the side of the east-west road, which ran alongside the building.

  “I’m gonna need a probe to try to get it through that gap in the middle. I doubt it’ll go as the doors are probably interlocking, but worth a try,” said Motor.

  He took the fibre-like probe from Crier’s backpack and crawled over to the middle of the door.

  “Shit, Cap, get away from the door! I’m on infrared and there’s movement. There’s something coming towards the door from below. Looks like an AFV!” cried Chip urgently.

  Motor rolled once, twice, and got off just as the door whooshed open with surprising speed. Out dashed not one but four armoured fighting vehicles in procession, making their way rapidly into the forest from where the men had just emerged.

  “Okay, boys, let’s go, go, go!” shouted Motor, diving into the now accessible tunnel opening. Crier went in second and Fuzzy third. Behind them, Chip thrust himself in head first as the semi-circles slammed shut, missing his right boot by inches. He rolled a short distance due to the fairly steep gradient that confronted him. As he picked himself up in the dimly lit tunnel his squadmates had already arranged themselves against the tunnel walls with Fuzz and Motor on the right and Crier on the left. All three were aiming their still invisible HK750s down the slope, which descended some way underground before levelling off around a hundred metres or so below ground. The men could see clearly as they had night vision, but unaided the tunnel was illuminated at the equivalent level of a moonlit night on Earth.

  “That tunnel’s going fairly deep,” said Chip, “what’d you reckon, Cap?”

  “Yeah, looks like most of the base could be underground, probably for defensive reasons. It may be protection against bombardment from the air or space,” Motor replied.

  “Didn’t see a war going on h
ere,” said Fuzzy.

  “Not now. Maybe in the past though. Remember the ruined settlements we saw from orbit? Something did that. And they’re highly militarised for some reason and we know there have been battles detected on one of the outer planet’s moons,” said Motor.

  “Okay, patrol, let’s move out and look for a way through. If we are detected in here, we’ll be like fish in a barrel. Let’s go!” he ordered.

  As they pushed on down the slope they could only hear a low background hum—perhaps ventilation or distant machinery of some sort. The steep slope, heavy packs and strong gravity made controlling the downward advance a challenge that started to make their knee joints and quadriceps feel the strain. The gradient levelled off, to their relief. That relief was short-lived as they saw what awaited them: another sturdy-looking metal door. The two monstrous black exoskeletons, facsimiles of their alien occupants inside, stood guard in front of the blast door. They stood completely still, facing the triple-S squad, evidently unable to see them fifty or so metres away.