by Chris Reher
“They figured that the color changes are expressive and used for communication. Barely any facial muscles. We might not be able to figure out what hers meant, given the stress.”
“Anything on the language?”
“Yes, they’ve pretty much translated it now. She basically talked about what you and Jovan had already picked up from her telepathically. It does confirm that the pod she used originated on the asteroid she warned us about. She was definitely sent from there. The asteroid could be a habitat for her species.”
“That would make her people incredibly ancient,” Cyann said.
“Not necessarily. They, too, will have evolved as we did. They may not even be aware of any other existence but to travel endlessly through space. The alien’s structure suggests that she developed in a low gravity environment.”
“And yet they know that their arrival will harm us.”
“That is the mystery here,” Ander said.
They left the Scout for the Union science vessel where the others were waiting. She sighed inwardly when they passed the sealed doorway to the observation lab. Technicians were still at work there to expunge any trace of their visitor just as another crew was cleaning up the moon’s surface contaminated by the meteoroid. The hundreds of samples they had retrieved as well as the visitor herself were now safely sealed in protective containers for future study on Targon.
Nigel was waiting for them outside the conference room, also in a fresh lab coat and, for once, neatly shaved and combed. “Enough brass in there to sink a ship,” he said in greeting. “Is my breath fresh?”
“Do try to behave,” Anders said.
The door slid aside and they stepped into the crescent-shaped room. Jovan and some of the Union ship’s science crew lounged before a wall of video displays. He smiled when Cyann took a seat next to him, her eyes on the displays.
“You look like you finally got some rest,” he said. The uncomfortable residual effects of Tava’s khamal had reappeared shortly after they had finally escaped the tedious questioning by both Delphian and Union researchers. Jovan had worked patiently with her to relieve the symptoms and neither made reference to their previous moments alone. But an awkwardness seemed to hover between them now and they had soon retreated to their own cabins for long overdue sleep. “I mean,” he added quickly, “you look rested. Not that you didn’t look rested before. Um, good morning.”
She regarded him silently for a long moment before deciding to let him off the hook. “Who’s that?” She tipped her chin at one of the screens.
“The Caspian? Ceel Ptho, Targon Astrophysics. The Centauri beside him is biology – don’t know his name. The one next to them is the famed Pappa Dutl, extremophile specialist and unbeaten swaddar player.”
“That’s him? I thought he’d be older. The biologist is Varon Tol, best in his field, too.”
Neither of them needed the names that now appeared on the displays to know who the others were. Shan Asher The Elder and Shan Leisakh were Delphian astronomers; Shan Arivon represented the Delphian Clan Council in their jurisdiction over Sola moon. Shan Tychon, related to the ruling House of Phera through oath rather than blood, was there in Phera’s name. Cyann’s mother, Nova Whiteside, attended as the Air Command proxy on Delphi. The only surprising presence on these walls were two Delphian Shantirs.
Cyann smiled at her father’s image when she noticed his eyes focused upon her. None of the others at this gathering, located at five different sites, seemed of interest to him. Tychon nodded, apparently unaware that his unwavering gaze made her want to fidget like she was twelve again.
“Why is your father staring at me like that,” Jovan whispered beside her.
“You?” she replied without moving her lips. “He’s looking at me, isn’t he?”
“Let’s begin,” Trephan Laar, the Centauri astrophysics director, spoke from the back of the room. “We have all had a chance to review the initial findings and the recordings of the event. We all know that it is too early to report any definite conclusions but if our suspicions bear out, we may not have time for lengthy evaluation. Shan Asher will present our hypothesis regarding the origin of the alien.”
Eyes shifted to the Delphian who now bent over his control board. “That’s quite the surprise you found in that rock,” he said. “And I’m sure the entire Targon lab is scratching their heads over how you managed to crack it open, Shan Cyann.” He looked up at the screen. “Shan Whiteside informs me that you prefer that name?”
“Please,” Cyann replied. Although most Delphians added, changed and removed some of their long list of names when circumstance called for it, they chose one to define them in their adulthood. Her first name had been her mother’s whimsy and she had never thought to change it.
“Because it’s so cute,” Jovan whispered. She gave his foot a gentle kick.
The astronomer nodded. “We’ve been studying the asteroid’s approach since it first came to our attention and then gleaned a great deal of information from the tablet found alongside the alien.”
The main screen now displayed an image of a flat, sand-colored object. It bore no markings at all except for a deep groove near one edge. “We were able to scan this item, a remarkable piece of technology, although we have no concept of its manufacture. Silica fused in ways we don’t understand.” He glanced at Nova sitting in the same room on Delphi. “We have gifted the item to the Commonwealth who will share their findings with us.”
At this point the Delphian Council representative interjected. “Which isn’t possible until we are able to remove it from Sola’s surface. May I ask at this point how the decontamination processes are... err... proceeding?”
Laar, as project director, replied, “Things are moving quite satisfactorily, Shan Arivon. The surface is clean now as is your research vessel, the Scout. Air Command has left and we are preparing to remove this ship and all remaining crew within two days.”
Arivon leaned back, apparently satisfied with the answer.
Asher gazed at the Council member just long enough to make a point. “Where was I? Ah, yes. We have been able to determine the visitor’s trajectory.”
All eyes moved to the main screen when a star map appeared, rotating slowly to allow them to orient themselves. It was a true-scale, three-dimensional representation of Trans-Targon including all solar systems. As usual, the image then shifted into a flat and false perspective showing where the systems stood within the roadmap of navigable jumpsites. Only those systems that could be reached via a mapped breach in space now appeared, regardless of actual distance. It reduced the field of thousands of planets to a few dozen.
Cyann studied the map, awed as always by the fact that a star system at the other side of Trans-Targon could be reached within just days or weeks while a planet close enough to see at night could not be visited within their lifetimes. Or at least not until someone found a keyhole in space, a microscopic breach detectable by skilled navigators like Jovan and Tychon, which could then be expanded and mapped to allow traffic to pass through. Her eyes shifted to Jovan.
“What?” he said quietly when he felt himself scrutinized.
She shook her head and returned her attention to the display.
A red line appeared to show the journey the stranger had taken through this small part of their galaxy, tracing back from Delphi, through several jumpsites until it finally seemed to drop off the visible map, that unexplored edge that many simply called the Badlands. There was nothing particularly bad about them other than that nearly all keyholes leading out there were little-known and dangerous to traverse. It was simply the border of what they called Trans-Targon, in any direction.
“As you can see, it originated outside our sector and so we still don’t know its origin. It did not spend a great deal of time in real-space. Fortunately, in that time it did not approach any known systems close enough to present a hazard.”
“But you believe its ultimate destination was Delphi?” Anders spoke up, unable to c
ontain himself any longer. “It meant to come here?”
“That is possible. We know it was able to change direction. But this is a densely populated part of Trans-Targon. The vessel will have been affected by even weak gravity wells. In fact, it is possible that gravity is what brought it here. However, some of our colleagues disagree.”
He looked over to Shan Leisakh who rose to his feet to address the group. He was bent by age which was said to be over two hundred, his blue braid nearly black with age, his eyes pale disks above sunken cheeks and a beak of a nose. He moved his hand which activated a pointer on their screen as if he had outlined the trajectory with a sweep of his arm. “This path is not unfamiliar to us,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Someone helpfully increased the volume in the meeting room. “This, and the creature’s own admissions, lead us to believe that more of its kind will follow. With all the dangers that will bring to these worlds.”
Jovan frowned and leaned forward as if to be sure to catch every nuance of the astronomer’s speech. Most Delphians were quick to regard anything strange as a dangerous influence but Shan Leisakh, although outspoken, was not known for hyperbole.
“Some of you will be familiar with a hypothesis we have entertained for hundreds of years here on Delphi. It is the result of our own astronomical studies, the thoughts of our philosophers and our study of astrobiology over these past three hundred years of Centauri occupation.” He coughed as if to draw their attention from this slip. Some of the others in the room found things to look at during the awkward pause that followed. Not everyone in this sector welcomed the Commonwealth of allied planets and Delphi, although living in peaceful cooperation with the Union, was especially reluctant to join. Leisakh’s sentiments were shared by many members of Delphi’s reclusive population.
Leisakh changed the display to include their entire galaxy. “We propose this. An anomaly of some sort, perhaps even just a rogue planet or planetar, is moving around galactic center rather than a star. It’s large enough for its gravity to pick up space debris along the way, some of which it loses to objects with greater gravity.”
Anders nodded. “And this includes depositing extremophiles, amino acids, pathogens and whatnot on other planets. In some cases, these pieces survive. You are talking about panspermia.”
“We are,” Dutl, the Human astrobiologist on Targon said. “An exoplanet thrown out of its solar orbit could explain the presence of organic material. It seems that Delphi’s theories may be in part validated by your visitor.” He reset the star map back to its real-space representation of their sector. “The red line I’m showing you is the trajectory of the alien pod. Skipping through sub-space gaps but always following the larger orbit Shan Leisakh pointed out. Now look at the star systems I’ve marked in blue.”
All of them noted the familiar planets he highlighted. Delphi and Targon, the nearby Myra. Further along Magra and her companion Aikhor, then Feyd, Feron, Bellac Tau, Aram and other planets on which Prime species had evolved. Even the distant Shaddallam and Callas fell within the object’s path, tracing a clear line of populations whose shared ancestry had been the subject of speculation for centuries.
“This anomaly may well be what brought all of us here, to our respective planets. The origin of our shared evolution. We literally dropped from the sky.” He smiled at the notion. “Albeit in our most primitive form. Scraps of DNA carried by ancient life forms.”
“It’s what we call the Genesis Cloud,” Nigel dared to speak up.
“Indeed,” Leisakh said. He fumbled behind himself until Asher guided him back into his chair. “As good a name as any, especially if it brings a debris disk with it. We, as well as some among the Caspians, estimated that it passed through here two and a half billion years ago.” His thin lips stretched into a smile. “As you can imagine, we hadn’t expected it to return for a little while longer. But if our alien visitor is a precursor of what’s to come, we now know that it can move through sub-space. That would mean that it traveled through Trans-Targon more often than we think. It finally explains the much younger evolution of the Prime species. And now it is due to return to our small part of the galaxy far sooner than expected.”
“With devastating consequences,” Anders said.
“Yes,” the biologist based on Targon said. “Whatever they dropped on these worlds millions of years ago found fertile ground to inhabit and evolve. Perhaps it wiped out what was already here, most certainly it changed it. But these days, few of us would welcome such radical alteration of our environment. As some of you know, there is evidence of mass extinction on several of these planets occurring at the same time.”
“Do we know what new pathogens this meteorite has brought?”
Varon Tol nodded. “For the most part, much of what it carried is benign. Variations of what we already have, or things that won’t affect our systems. Some of it is matter that comes to us fairly regularly from other worlds. That process is of course beneficial to all of us - it’s what’s made it possible for us to so easily move among planets without causing utter calamity every time we set foot on new soil.”
“But?”
“This.” The biologist held up a transparent cube for them to see. It seemed to contain wilted and pale greenery. "What we've discovered is a virus that, under the right conditions, can infect a vital plant protein that produces an acid. Sunlight is the right condition and we happen to have plenty of it. It's harmless in the dark, as perhaps on our asteroid, but when exposed to light that acid will create a toxin. Plants are unable to produce chlorophyll and eventually, this will prevent photosynthesis.” He shook the box in his hand as if to somehow bring the pallid leaves back to life. “We're assuming the virus is dormant, biding its time in the ice and rock carried by the cloud. It took only moments under lab conditions to awaken. Our projections show that it would take only a matter of days to destroy a living plant. We’re calling it the Sola virus for now.”
“Any plant?” Anders asked, forestalling the Delphian Council member who looked clearly displeased by the pathogen’s designation.
“Any plant requiring chlorophyll of any type, with the exception of those with dark-operative proteins, which is nice if you're living in a cave. For the rest of us, it means every plant on every planet with the exception of Feron, Aram, Targon, maybe K'lar. The collapse of our food-chain.”
Everyone present followed his gesture toward the star map and most of them understood what he meant. Few of the planets in the path of the cloud had the means to combat a virus such as this on their own. They included primitive or hostile populations as well as rebel strongholds that would fight any effort by the Commonwealth to aid the regions they occupied. Even if these experts developed some anti-viral agent, delivering it to this vast field of worlds presented an undertaking that was beyond even the Union’s means.
Cyann reached over and clasped Anders’ hand. He squeezed it reassuringly, out of habit, but his expression was as worried as everyone else’s.
“Elder Brother,” Jovan broke the stunned silence to address Asher, the Delphian astronomer. “That a passing asteroid or exoplanet can seed life and death upon other planets is a captivating and troublesome theory. But are you proposing that the alien came here specifically to warn us of this?”
“We are,” Shelyth, one of the so-far silent Shantirs, said. Her eyes were on Cyann. “Shan Cyann, we studied the video of your encounter with the being with great interest. You were deeply affected by her passing.”
“I was.”
“Did you feel any sort of affinity to the alien? Why would you, as an experienced xenobiologist, become attached so quickly to a specimen?”
Cyann’s brows drew together. Was Shelyth hinting that her Human nature had overtaken her ability to remain impartial? That the valued Delphian stoicism had deserted her when it was most needed? “It was a difficult moment, Shan Shelyth. The creature was in distress and I felt empathy.”
“More than you would for another dying creatu
re? Sentient or not?”
“Yes,” Cyann said after a moment.
“Was there anything familiar about this individual? Something you might recognize?”
Cyann turned her head when Jovan made a subdued hissing sound. Was Shelyth referring to the voice that had haunted her throughout her life? More warnings from some immeasurable distance, perceived only by her?
On the screen, Tychon leaned forward. “Can you offer some insight into the purpose of your inquiries, Shelyth?” Everyone noticed that he had omitted the usual honorific before her name.
“No,” the Shantir said abruptly. “I will do so when we have concluded our observations of the available information.” Her eyes returned to Cyann.
“It was not familiar,” Cyann said, aware that Jovan, Anders and her parents were also awaiting her reply with more than just polite interest. The voice had come, of course, just moments before she touched the meteorite. But it had not come from in there, of that she was certain. “There was nothing familiar there. I just wanted to comfort her. She was not a specimen. She was a sentient visitor who came a long way to deliver a message, if that’s what it is. She was frightened and alone and we could do nothing to help her.”
Shelyth nodded. She glanced at Moghen, apparently in silent conversation with the other Shantir. “May all of us find such comfort in our last moment.”
“Indeed,” Nova Whiteside said with a gentle smile for her daughter. “I think we all agree that action must be taken immediately. We will recommend that we send an expedition along the visitor’s trajectory to see if we can find this cloud and determine when it will get to Trans-Targon and whether it carries the virus. I will request Air Command support along with a research ship to see if we can intercept, perhaps redirect the anomaly.”
