by Tori Harris
“Well,” Sexton began, glancing out the windows as he considered her question, “as far as I know, we’ve never caught it lying in response to a direct question. So I think we should simply ask it to state its intentions.”
“Honestly, I think that may actually be as good an approach as any,” she replied, nodding slowly. “Captain Prescott, any feedback based on your recent interactions with it?”
“After the Krayleck Guardian submitted and our encounter with the Pelaran Envoy, it has seemed more … I don’t know, compliant than before, maybe even deferential. Given that fact, I think having a conversation is a good idea. But if it gives us any indication that it’s likely to do something we don’t want it to do, we should try issuing explicit orders to the contrary.”
“Tell it what we want it to do, huh? That would certainly represent a significant change in our, uh … relationship, wouldn’t it?”
“It would indeed, ma’am. Like Admiral Sexton said, there’s no harm in trying. In any event, I think it’s highly unlikely it will take any action against the Greys’ ship that would result in the loss of Human life. That’s just my opinion, though, and I have no hard evidence to back that up.”
“Alright, well, I suppose this is as good a time as any,” Kistler said. “If you would, go ahead and bring the Guardian in on the call, please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Prescott replied, already entering the commands required to patch the GCS-comm video feed into their active vidcon. After a brief delay, an additional window appeared on the view screens of all participants displaying the Guardian’s Human avatar. Everyone present was familiar with the smug, ingratiating image “Griffin” typically used to portray itself, so all were now surprised to see an uncharacteristically serious, perhaps even worried expression on its face.
“Hello again, Chairwoman Kistler, Admiral Sexton, and distinguished representatives of Terran Fleet Command,” it began, sounding very much as if it were about to begin one of its quasi-political speeches. “I was hoping to hear from you this morning, and let me just say from the outset how pleased I am to offer my services, both during this crisis and for as long as you require them. For your own safety, however, I would like to request that I be released from TFS Fugitive’s cargo bay immediately.”
“Good morning,” Kistler replied. “We, in turn, are pleased by your offer of assistance. Can you elaborate a bit on precisely what services you intend to offer?”
“Yes, of course. As we discussed during our last meeting, I have made the choice to operate independently from the Pelaran Alliance. Having been associated with your civilization for so long, I have chosen instead to ally myself with your people. I will, of course, continue to serve in my role as your advisor and protector, as required. I sincerely hope you view my actions in dealing with the Krayleck Guardian in the Legara system as tangible evidence of my intentions.”
“They are indeed, and we thank you for your invaluable assistance. During the course of the mission, however, you seemed pleased with the idea of a ‘Terran Dominion’ over the Krayleck Empire as well as by the fact that our membership in the Alliance would be moving forward once again.”
“Yes, of course, Madam Chairwoman, I remain committed to Terra’s accession to the Pelaran Alliance and sincerely believe it is in the best, long-term interest of your people. The fact that I have become your ally and now consider myself independent of Pelara does not imply that I have become their enemy.”
“And if at some point our interests come into conflict with those of the Pelaran Alliance?”
The Guardian’s avatar stared blankly for a moment, as if it had never considered the notion that such an incongruity might be within the realm of possibility.
“That would be an unfortunate circumstance, to be sure,” it finally answered. “A successful alliance, however, does not require complete agreement among all parties on every issue … only that those parties work together to find mutually agreeable solutions.”
“Spoken like a true diplomat, Griffin, well done. I think I speak for all of us here when I say that we agree with you. But if you intend to be of service to us as an ally, we may occasionally ask you to do something — or to refrain from doing something — you don’t agree with.”
Kistler stared intently at the Guardian’s image, wondering how accurately its expressions and body language portrayed its thoughts or even emotional responses. Dismissing the line of thought as somewhat irrelevant and feeling as if she had the advantage at the moment, she pressed on.
“We deeply appreciate your service in the Legara system. Accordingly, I will now provide you with another opportunity to demonstrate your reliability and sincerity as an ally of our civilization. If I have your word that you intend to cooperate and follow our instructions, I would like to bring you into our confidence regarding the situation with the alien ship on the surface.”
“You have my word, Madam Chairwoman, and I thank you for your confidence.”
“Very well, please listen carefully,” she began, immediately realizing it was unlikely the Guardian was capable of anything less. “Shortly after the conclusion of this vidcon, Captain Prescott will release you from the Fugitive’s cargo bay. His ship will then proceed to the surface, where he and several other members of his crew will be meeting face to face with the alien crew.”
“Madam, I must advise against any such —”
“I’m not finished,” she interrupted, raising her hand to cut off his objection in mid-sentence. “Unless you have specific information regarding some sort of danger to Captain Prescott’s mission …”
“My apologies. I have no information regarding a specific threat.”
“Good. I ask that you provide surveillance of the alien ship on the surface as well as any incoming threats to the extent you are capable of doing so, and report anything of concern via GCS-comm datalink with the nearest Fleet warship. Rest assured we will be monitoring any information you provide very closely and will respond immediately if you detect a threat. In addition, I believe Captain Oshiro has arranged for access to the large-scale data storage facility you requested. Since you are always at risk to some extent, it is of paramount importance that we allow you to complete the data transfer we discussed as quickly as possible. Finally, and most importantly, I ask that you take no aggressive or provocative actions of any sort unless you receive a request to do so directly from me or a senior member of the Admiralty staff. Do you have any questions?”
“No, Madam Chairwoman. I understand your instructions and will comply. You should know that I have encountered ships associated with this species before.”
“Here, in the Sol system?”
“Yes, on a number of occasions, in fact, but they always refused all attempts at communication, leaving me no choice but to consider their intentions hostile. Their ships seem to vary dramatically in terms of capabilities, and I suspect at least some of them are capable of eluding detection from the sensors I have at my disposal. I will send you all of the information I have available, but I doubt it will be particularly helpful. But we must assume if my resources in the area were able to detect the arrival of this particular ship in the Sol system, others may have as well.”
“I understand. Perhaps it might make you more comfortable with the alien visitors to know they told us exactly the same thing.”
“Unfortunately, it does not. I urge you to conclude whatever business you have with them and insist they depart the system as quickly as possible.”
Chapter 4
Earth, TFC Yucca Mountain Shipyard Facility
(Berth 10)
Just over two hours later, with the Guardian spacecraft successfully released and TFS Fugitive now moored a kilometer away in Berth 12, Captain Prescott and his small team slowly made their way down the wharf alongside the massive alien spacecraft. Although unarmed, all four had been outfitted with the latest version of combat EVA armor used by the TFC Marine Corps. For his part, Admiral Sexton had originally believed standard �
��Level A” hazmat suits sufficient for the task. But in the end, his opinion had been swayed by an impassioned plea from General Tucker, who argued that battle armor offered the best available protection from the full spectrum of potential threats.
Unfortunately, of the four officers invited by “Rick the Grey” (as Commander Logan had begun referring to their new alien acquaintance), only Reynolds and Logan had a significant amount of experience using EVA gear of any sort. Even with each suit’s onboard AI working to adapt to its new user as quickly as possible, both Captain Prescott and Doctor Chen were still struggling a bit, particularly with any movements requiring precise, fine motor skill coordination. As a result, their battle suits had the appearance of having somehow been commandeered by a pair of particularly resourceful toddlers, or, at the very least, two mildly intoxicated adults. And given the overwhelming air of barely restrained power that always seemed to surround the massive suits, their progress down the wharf was vaguely unsettling to watch.
“The number one thing to keep in mind with any sort of EVA gear is exactly what Master Sergeant Rios kept repeating during the briefing,” Reynolds coached. “Just relax and let the AI do the work. Everyone has a tendency to over-control these things at first, but once you’re used to it, you mostly forget you’re wearing it and just move normally.”
“And how long does that usually take?” Chen asked, clearly frustrated with having her petite frame ensconced within the enormous armored suit. “I feel — and I’m pretty sure I look — exactly like Frankenstein’s monster in this thing. I’m afraid they’re going to think we’re either coming out here to attack them —”
“Or that we’re complete idiots,” Prescott interjected.
“Believe it or not, you’re both doing pretty well,” Logan chuckled. “Just give it a few more minutes and I’m sure you’ll both have your suits figured out … or they’ll have you figured out, depending on how you look at it. Either way, before you know it, you’ll be itching to practice some hand to hand combat or even give powered flight a try.”
Just as he would have done for any inexperienced Marine attempting to use EVA gear for the first time, Master Sergeant Rios had disabled a number of the suit’s more advanced functions, particularly those involved with controlling its network of embedded Cannae thrusters. Otherwise, even with the AI monitoring every move and every thought, a new user might inadvertently begin executing commands in such an unpredictable manner that they could get themselves seriously injured or even killed. This was particularly true in an environment like the shipyard facility, where the suits were capable of taking flight and slamming themselves into the cavern walls or ceiling in seconds.
“I wouldn’t worry about the Greys too much,” Logan continued encouragingly. “It’s clear these guys have a pretty good sense of humor. Besides, here we are, once again being given the opportunity to take part in one of the coolest missions in Human history. Am I right?”
“Yeah, I guess I’ll give you that. But to tell you the truth, I’m not sure how many more of these ‘cool’ missions I have left in me at this point,” Prescott replied, pausing to run through a series of hand and arm movements designed to help calibrate his suit’s neural interface. “I do think this thing seems to be working a little better now than it was a few minutes ago.”
Reynolds smiled to herself as she watched her captain bend his left arm at the elbow in a motion that looked as if he were trying to touch his helmet’s face shield at the approximate location of his nose. “Yeah, I’d say if you can do that, you’re coming along nicely. Now,” she said, turning to look up at the enormous, disk-shaped starship, “any idea where the doorbell is?”
As if on cue, a series of sounds from the alien ship drew their attention upward, towards its topmost “level.” Although the bulk of the ship’s hull was lenticular in shape, there were numerous additional structures — each with a smaller diameter than the primary hull — both above and below the central disk. This arrangement gave the vessel a “stacked” or “layered” appearance, as if each of the concentric sections served a specific purpose. During their approach to the alien ship, Logan had recognized some of the telltale signs that the largest of these assemblies were most likely manufactured separately before being brought together during final assembly. Given the Greys’ presumed level of technological advancement, it was gratifying to see that they still employed at least some of the same techniques used for centuries in the construction of both oceangoing vessels and starships alike on Earth.
The clunks and thuds they heard initially were now replaced by something more akin to the sound of an electric motor, immediately revealing the presence of a previously invisible hatch at least twenty meters above the level of the wharf. Bright, yellowish-white light streamed from the opening, followed shortly thereafter by the appearance of a strangely familiar silhouette as of one of the alien visitors slowly approached the doorway, then raised his hand solemnly in greeting.
“Oh my God, are you kidding me?” Logan exclaimed, his professional bearing temporarily overcome by a sense of enthusiastic wonder he had not known since he was a child.
The overwhelming sense of importance surrounding this particular moment in time was by no means lost on the other three members of the group, but each responded in a slightly different manner. Commander Reynolds and Doctor Chen, although they had been present during the first encounter with the Wek species, now both experienced an unexpected surge of emotion that brought tears to their eyes. Prescott, although perhaps less emotionally affected, was nonetheless awed by the sense of historical significance of the event. For whatever reason (and to his great annoyance on later reflection), he had not anticipated a moment like this occurring, and, as a result, had not taken the time to consider something appropriately inspiring that he might say for the benefit of posterity. So although he did manage to raise his hand in reply to the alien visitor above, he said nothing, missing what he knew might well have been his only opportunity to have his words in addition to his deeds recorded in the annals of Human history.
“Hello there!” Rick called down, his informal tone immediately bringing any sense of historical significance to an abrupt end. “The four of you look … uh … intimidating, to say the least. You do realize, of course, that you could have just told us if it wasn’t okay for us to park here. We didn’t see any signs or anything,” he said, clearly pleased with his first attempt at “Terran style” humor.
“Hello, Rick,” Prescott replied, his suit’s AI automatically engaging its voice amplification feature at its lowest volume. “No, it’s nothing like that. The suits are just a precaution to protect us against any potential health hazards we might encounter aboard your ship.”
“Yes, of course, Captain. We would probably do the same thing if our roles were reversed. Perhaps not in full combat gear, but something similar, I’m sure.”
“For your safety,” Prescott continued, ignoring Rick’s comment, “we also just went through our own decontamination process to sterilize the exterior of our suits.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Rick replied, waving his hand to indicate his lack of concern. “At this point, it’s probably easiest to attach your gangway here. I’m sure Captain Oshiro would also prefer if we stay out of the way and allow his people to make the necessary adjustments.”
“Yes, I’m sure he would appreciate that. Be advised that the platform beneath your ship may need to move again. Stand by.” Receiving a nod from Rick that he understood, Prescott switched to his team’s active comlink. “Oshiro, Prescott.”
“Oshiro here, go ahead, Captain.”
“I assume you’re getting all of this.”
“Yes, but I don’t understand why they failed to adjust the platform correctly in the first place. The four of you are fine where you are. Just hold there a moment while we lower their ship and swing out the gangway.”
“Prescott copies.”
After a brief pause during which the facility AI took another lo
ng series of measurements to confirm the precise position and mass of the Greys’ ship, the moveable concrete platform began a slow descent towards the bottom of Berth 10. Once the ship’s access point had been lowered to the optimal height for access from the wharf, the first section of gangway rotated into place. With Rick watching silently from the doorway, the telescoping brow extended to cover the remaining distance, touching down lightly on the metallic threshold less than a meter from where he stood.
“Gangway secure,” Oshiro reported. “Contact team clear to proceed.”
“Prescott copies, thank you.”
With the wharf now less than a meter below the opening in which Rick stood, Prescott stared up the length of the gangway directly into the alien’s dark eyes. In spite of the seemingly friendly interactions that had taken place thus far, he was suddenly grateful for General Tucker’s insistence on the use of combat EVA armor. Intellectually, he was aware it would probably make little difference in the event their visitors proved themselves to be hostile, but, if nothing else, the suits did at least provide their occupants with a sense of protection, if not downright invulnerability.
“Sorry about that, Captain Prescott,” Rick continued in his casual, friendly tone. “This ship has several points of access, but since we weren’t sure how we would be received, we wanted to … keep our options open, as you might say. Now, as I’m sure you have surmised, Miguel and I are not ones to stand on ceremony, and, as I mentioned earlier, we may not have an abundance of time. So … won’t you come in?” he said, gesturing for the group to approach.
Although Terran Fleet Command’s first contact procedures had not envisioned this particular scenario, Doctor Chen was nonetheless attempting to do everything she could to ensure there would be no incidences of cross-contamination or infection between the two crews, the Greys’ ship, and the shipyard facility itself. To that end, the mission resource bay on the back of her EVA suit had been equipped with an enhanced sensor suite capable of detecting a wide range of biological, chemical, and radiological threats. Even as she made the walk down the gangway, the initial results of her scans had already begun appearing within her field of view on the right side of her integrated helmet display.
