by Hugh B. Long
For a few years after first contact, humanity discussed the possibility of researching ways to replicate the conditions on Alfheim and reproduce the secret to their long lives. Ultimately mankind made the sensible decision, guided by the wisdom of the Alfar, to give up this pursuit. Earth had been at the breaking point with the population at that point; it had long exceeded it's carrying capacity, which was a euphemism for the planet’s inability to support humanity’s unrestrained proliferation and consumption of resources. Quintupling the age of homo-sapiens would push humanity over the brink. The SID banned any further research into Alfar aging … but not everyone gave up the dream.
Gridrmann was leafing through the report. "God damn disappointing progress," he muttered and shook his head. "I pay these useless assholes a fortune, and for what?" He looked up at Cate.
"I'm sure they're trying, sir."
"My father had a saying, Ms. Fizel—there is no trying, only doing—He was a prick, but I still like the quote. What we need are tissue samples from an Alfar, or an Alfar volunteer if possible. Based on what I read here, the limited DNA samples we have aren't enough."
"Sir, that's a tall order. Contact with the Alfar is tightly controlled, as you well know. Typically only key government officials have access to them."
He glared at her as he leaned forward. "Then buy me a key government official, Ms. Fisel. Better yet—buy me an Alfar."
* * *
Planet: New Midgard
After a week of playing farmer and getting some much needed rest, Hal had been called back to work to meet with his boss, New Midgard’s Governor, Andrew Zelinksi.
The drive into Norvik was joyful; various species of local trees lined the road, and flowers filled the ditches; the aroma was intoxicating. One of the mandates when humans colonized New Midgard was to strike a better balance with nature. Their colony was self-sufficient by design and everything was done with a 'New Midgard First' policy. Humans were determined not to repeat the mistakes of the previous centuries. Although the last hundred years had seen drastic reforms on Earth, she was in a slow recovery, and its citizens we're still learning to live in harmony with her.
New Midgard was a clean slate, a do-over, and so far so good.
Norvik and its surrounding agricultural homesteads were the only settlements on New Midgard and were now bustling with over nine-thousand residents.
Hal parked his car in front of the Midgard Administrative Center, known affectionately as 'The MAC'. The MAC was a five story office building, the penthouse of which, also served as the governors residence. The MAC was part of a modular technology the SID had co-developed with the Alfar to enable rapid colonization—Prefabricated Colonization Modules, or PCMs. The MAC was a Colonization Administration Module, which language lovers pointed out was a palindrome for MAC. Other options included: Agricultural Modules, Mining Modules, Terraforming Modules and so forth.
To install the various PCMs, a cargo ship would drop the PCM at its target location, after which the PCM would decompress, initiate all systems, and perform self-diagnostics. In a matter of a few hours an agricultural colony like New Midgard would be operational and self-sufficient.
The MAC—all PCMs in fact—were a paragon of environmental integration; all the MAC's windows doubled as solar panels, and in between the windows on the outer walls of the buildings were a plethora of mosses and plants. The roof acted as an herb garden for the restaurants on the first floor, and all water and waste were one-hundred percent recycled and re-used.
After Hal had grabbed a double espresso at Stellar Joe's on the main floor of the MAC, he hopped the contragrav-elevator to the fifth floor.
Kristy Hardin, an attractive thirty-something brunette, and the Governor's aide, was waiting in the fifth floor lobby when Hal stepped out.
"Well, hi there, Kristy," Hal said, smiling.
"Hi, Hal, nice to see you again, it's been awhile."
Kristy was a pleasant young woman with the uncanny ability to herd cats; this proved useful in a fledgling administration.
"It sure has. You're looking great. New hair?”
“Yes! Thank you! That's so sweet of you to notice. Let's get you in to see the Governor."
Kristy ushered Hal into the Governor's office, which was adjacent to his living quarters.
Governor Zelinksi was pacing and talking on the stellar-comm when they walked in. The regal, ebony face of SID President Dalia Rukundo filled his wall monitor.
One hundred and fifteen years ago, man had unlocked instructions to contact an alien race—the Alfar. Part of those instructions included plans for a communications device that worked instantaneously across the stars. The technology relied on the creation of microscopic Einstein-Rosen bridges—a.k.a. wormholes. The device was naturally called an Einstein-Rosen Bridge Transceiver or ERBT; most folks referred to it simply as a stellarcom. A stellarcom required the presence of a planetary sized gravity-well, so they couldn't be deployed aboard ships.
"...thanks, Madame President," said Zelinski, "I'll talk to you next week." The stellar-comm disconnected and the wall monitor went black. The Governor sat down behind his desk.
"Morning, Governor," said Hal, "how are things back home on Earth?”
"Good morning, Hal. Good, actually. No problems on Earth this week … for a change, and no troubles here to report. The calm before the storm?" He put on a questioning look and laughed.
Hal smiled. “Nice to hear."
"Governor, do you need anything more from me? If not, I'll let you and Hal get started," Kristy asked.
"I see Hal's already got a coffee, although he didn't think to bring his boss one ... this could reflect badly on his year-end performance review." Zelinksi smiled again and winked. He and Hal had been friends for going on ten years, and knew each other very well. "We're fine, Kristy, thanks."
Hal took a seat in one of the deep leather chairs in a semi-circle in front of the Governor's desk. He inhaled deeply and reveled in the natural smell of the leather; everything on a star ship was synthetic, and you missed these little things. He heard the door close behind him.
"What's up boss? I was supposed to be off another week. Something urgent I take it?"
"Yeah. Some pretty heavy stuff actually. You probably know that ever since the Yggdrasil Codex was discovered in 2013, scientists have continued to try to find evidence of further secrets embedded in the runic script on the stones. They hadn't made much progress … until a few weeks ago. They decrypted another set of coordinates—a subset of the data which contained the constellations originally discovered. These coordinates aren't just the stars that form the constellations, but additional points in space, very close to those stars."
"What are they?"
"No clue yet. The consensus is that we send a team to investigate in parallel with continued decryption efforts. Our plan is to dispatch a couple of our folks to Alfheim, partner up their people, then perform a joint recon of the first point. We’ll visit the location closest to Alfheim first."
"I assume that means you want me?"
"Absolutely. We want you to lead the team. In addition to your surveying and exogeology background, being the great, great, great grandson of the man who cracked the Yggdrasil Codex doesn't hurt. In fact, Ambassador Saeran requested you personally."
Hal's pulse quickened. The first time humans decrypted a code on the Yggdrasil Codex runestone, it had lead to contact with an alien race and hinted at possible divine intervention in the development of the human race—heady stuff! His mind was scrambling to imagine what new discoveries this could lead to. He took a sip of his espresso, and wished it was brandy.
"Who else is on the team?" Hal asked.
"I figured we'd send Nila with you; I sent a message last night asking her to cut her vacation short and grab a transport back to Norvik. She's on her way as we speak. We have a cryptographer from Earth, Elnora Kollman. She's already on Alfheim, so she'll meet you there. Is there anybody else you think you might need?"
"Sounds ok for now. Let me get there and assess the situation, then we'll see if we need anybody else."
"Perfect, and the Alfar will put their experts at your disposal, so you can round out your team with their folks."
"Are they expecting us to leave tomorrow?"
The Governor nodded. “Sorry.”
"Siobhan isn't going to be happy. That's three weeks there, plus mission time, then three weeks back. Several months all tolled."
"I know, but considering how important this will likely be, I think she'll understand."
"She might—Ailan won't. I'll have to bring back a damned expensive gift to make up for this. Any nice rocks on Alfheim, Boss?"
* * *
As Hal opened the groundcar door his wristcom beeped, indicating a message. He tapped a button and read the display.
[EYES ONLY]
When a stellar-comm was in use it was also capable of sending and receiving a burst of data traffic for additional high priority information, such as this...
He got into his groundcar and adjusted the variable tint on his windows to maximum opacity, then read the message.
[START MESSAGE/
FROM: President Rukundo
Haldor, there's more to this mission than there seems on the surface. We suspect one of your team will be a spy. Planted by whom, we don’t know. Please take all necessary precautions and report back ASAP when you have more intel.
/END MESSAGE]
Well, that is interesting, he thought.
The SID was quick to realize colony surveying was the perfect cover for more sensitive activities. Hal’s previous military service with Earth’s Stellar Fleet was an asset, and in his current job Hal explored dozens of stars and scores of planets, scanning, gathering and analyzing data. He was the SID’s eyes and ears amongst the stars. Hal had been recruited prior to moving to New Midgard, and so far, his role had been uneventful. He’d undergone several months of intense training to prepare for trouble that had yet to appear … perhaps until now.
Chapter 3
Star: Freyr’s Star (Kepler 22b) Planet: Ljossalfheim
As the shuttle descended through whispy clouds in Alfheim's atmosphere, Hal could see titanic white trees reaching up from the forest floors, as if they were trying to grab at the stars themselves. Alfheim was a sylvan paradise of epic proportions.
They were flying into Llangernyw, the capital city of Alfheim; the closer they got, the more apparent it became to Hal how un-city-like Llangernyw was. It looked more like a botanical garden on a busy day. There was not a single building anywhere in sight, only massive trees, out of which Alfar streamed, and into which they disappeared, going about their business.
"Incredible..." Hal muttered.
Nila, sitting in the next seat, looked over at him. "It is lovely. If their trees are this big, I can’t wait to see the flowers!"
The shuttle approached a clearing in the forest that was Llangernyw and touched down. With an obligatory pop and hiss, the doors opened. The shuttle's engines began to spin down, the high pitched whining descended to a low thrumming.
As he stepped out of the shuttle, Hal stretched and inhaled deeply, grateful for a reprieve from recycled air after his ten week flight. His nose was flooded with a sweet scent, reminding him of honeysuckle, and a vacation in Virginia.
A tall comely woman with flaxen hair, seemed to glide up to him. Hal was struck by her lithe appearance and fine features, which he understood were typical of the Alfar; a result of evolving in a low-gravity world—Alfheim's gravity was 0.9G, or ninety percent of Earth’s. Hal certainly felt a spring in his step.
Flanking the blonde woman were two men, clearly guards, wearing some kind of greenish-brown body armor—which Hal could swear looked like bark. Each was holding a staff a foot taller than themselves. They glared at the humans, while the woman beamed warmly as she approached them.
"Haldor Olsen, I am Saeran. It is so nice to finally meet you. You are the spitting image of your father," she said, extending a slender hand. Hal received it gently, afraid of hurting her if he gripped it too tightly, but she surprised him with a very firm handshake. He looked at her shocked.
"Was that inappropriate?" She asked, “My understanding is that a firm handshake is a sign of confidence and respect."
"No, that was fine. Just surprised is all. Please, call me Hal.”
Saeran nodded.
“And most people say I look like my mother—with me having dark hair. My father was fair haired,” Hal said.
“Oh, my mistake,” Saeran said.
Hal turned and gestured to Nila who was now standing beside him. "This is Nila Johar, my navigator."
"Nila, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Saeran said.
"It’s my honor," Nila replied
“Is the rest of your crew coming down?” Saeran asked.
"We're it, except for our cryptographer, Elnora Kollman, who's already here,” Hal explained.
“Very well then, why don’t I give you a short tour of Llangernyw?” Saeran offered.
“That would be lovely,” Nila said..
“Please, if you’ll follow me.” Saeran gestured, turned, and moved down one of the walking paths, her pea green gown flowing gently like tall grass in a meadow.
“Llangernyw is stunning,” Hal said, “I can’t believe how well integrated your structures are with the environment. In fact, we’re trying very hard to achieve something similar on New Midgard; not quite on this scale of course, but building with our natural world in mind.”
Saeran smiled. “I think that is a noble sentiment, but Llangernyw was not built as such—it was grown. Everything you see around you is living and breathing. We are truly living in symbiosis with the trees and plants. You will notice each of the ywen trees in Llangernyw is near the size of your skyscrapers, such as those in New York city.”
Hal thought it surprising that she would reference an Earth city.
Saeran raised her eyebrows, “You look shocked? I’ve been to New York city. But between the increased gravity on Earth and the pollution in New York, I can’t say I was enamored with it on my visit, but I know you Midgardians are trying—with respect to pollution and living more symbiotically, that is.”
Hal nodded. “Fair enough. I’m not much for cities myself.” He watched hundreds of Alfar quietly going about their business, moving in and out of tree trunks, and passing above them on large branches- which seemed to function as roads.
There was another marked difference between this city and those on Earth—the lack of noise. Hal heard birds singing, the buzz of small insects, the rustle of leaves in the wind, and quiet voices; there were no honking horns, no sounds of construction, no people shouting or otherwise making a racket. The same could be said about New Midgard, but Alfheim was home to billions, like Earth. New Midgard was quiet in large part because the population density was extremely low, and there was a lack of heavy industry; being a new colony, it was still primarily an agricultural entity.
Another contrast was in the general adornment of everything. Every rail, building frontage etcetera, was intricately carved. But as he took a closer look, he realized they were not carvings at all, they were in fact patterns of growth. Saeran explained this as a function of their science of arbortecture. Plant material could be coerced to grow in myriad patterns. Some wore simple designs, others appeared to tell epic tales of battles, pictures of the gods, goddesses, and land spirits, acts of creation and other significant moments in their history.
Hal chocked this adornment up to the fact the Alfar lived so much longer than humans—homo sapiens were in a constant rush to get things done, but the Alfar … they seemed to be stopping to smell the flowers, as it were.
He remembered pictures of objects his ancestors had made a thousand years before. They were similarly adorned. Six-hundred light-years and a thousand years in time, and they had so much in common. It warmed Hal to think of these very distant cousins. Meeting the Alfar was probably the greatest blessin
g the gods had bestowed upon his race.
Another curiosity were the parallels in design themes. Here the Alfar seemed to employ themes which would be familiar to Celts and ancient Scandinavians. “Saeran, I notice we seem to have many similarities in the way we adorn things. Many pillars on your buildings for example have carved intertwining beasts; this is a strong motif in Old-Earth Celtic society. How is it that six-hundred light-years and thousands of years apart there is such similarity?” he asked.
“Excellent question. As you know, the gods seeded both our worlds, among others. That seeding included certain pre-dispositions for patterns of thought, behavior and culture, as well as biology. You’ll also see similar animals and plants. Not identical mind you, but very similar. Each evolve under the pressures and constraints placed on them by the environments, but the basic coding was the same; as our biospheres are very similar, you can see horses here which are nearly identical to ones on Earth. This also means our species may be able to interbreed.”
The party looked shocked.
“I meant the animals, of course” Saeran said, “but Alfar and Humans should be biologically compatible; there are a few human and Alfar couples, but no children yet.”
Hal nodded. “Inspiring.”
Saeran continued her guided tour. “Each of the large ywen trees you see functions as a building. They grow naturally, more or less as you see them. The insides are predominantly hollow, with a network of tunnels acting as hallways and rooms. Using the science of arbortecture we encourage the limbs growing further up to meet between trees, which then act like bridges among the higher levels, creating a network—somewhat like your sidewalks. We have no large roads, as we have no ground vehicles like you do on Earth. Our settlements are all very densely populated and our people spread out vertically instead of horizontally. We use shuttles and aircars between our groves—what you call cities, or towns.”
