Alien Enigma

by Bain, Darrell; Teora, Tony

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Devil's Den

  I was involved in 1979 in a firefight with alien humanoids and I was one of the survivors. I'm probably the only talking survivor you will ever hear. Two other survivors are under close guard. I am the only one left that knows the detailed files of the entire operation. Sixty- six secret service agents, FBI, Black Berets and the like, died in that firefight. I was there.

  -Philip Schneider, ex-government structural engineer, died of suicide soon after above comments.

  "Captain, I'm picking up a signal, it looks like it's coming from what appears to be an old Xtron Satellite, but it's unusual."

  "Why's that Lieutenant?"

  "Well sir, for one, the Satellite powered up when the Doc Travis approached. It must have picked up our IFF broadcast and then turned on, like it was waiting for a Space Navy ship to pass by before activating."

  Keane's eyes perked. "Why would they do that? That Xtron should have a fifty year life span, and with solar power available, up to one hundred or so. It doesn't need to wait."

  "Don't know sir, it appears that someone wanted it to look dead until a friendly came by. Possibly a stealth mode satellite setting. Maybe they didn't want any hostiles to pick it up."

  "Well, with the Worm and their robots, I can understand that reasoning. It might have been from an earlier Wannstead ship. Does it have any intel or planetary transmissions?"

  "Yes, but it's in a code that Eve hasn't seen before. It's repeating. About a two gig message. I'll send it down to the com lab. Maybe someone there can decipher it. Boy, whatever is in that message, they sure didn't want anyone to easily crack it. This thing looks like an old 256K triple key cipher. I'm not sure we can solve this thing. Could take years."

  This must be important, Keane thought, maybe even important enough to wait for a translation before heading to Xanadu. "Lieutenant, see if Professor Juenne can get on it. I have a suspicion she can figure it out. She has one of her PhDs in cryptology."

  "Will do sir."

  "And in the meantime, keep looking for a beacon from the Santa Cruz. She should be somewhere in the system, out here on the edges of it with us."

  ***

  "This is a classic code trick. Anyone who hasn't studied human history of cryptology could spend their whole life breaking this thing," Harriette said to PO Josey, her electronics tech.

  Josey looked at the codes she had punched up. "Prof, that's a standard 256K triple code cipher. What do you see that I don't?"

  "It's set up to look like a 256K cipher, but I think whoever put this together used a one-time code. If you translate the first code set, it's ASCII. Can you read the first line?"

  "Oh my God, you're right. That section isn't a code at all, it's ...be damned, it's ASCII in binary. My ASCII is kind of rough ... Eve, overlay the old Earth ASCII code set over the first eight hundred binary characters."

  Harriette and PO Josey watched as sentences appeared. The words wrote: " The Bard of Avalon is the single key to truth. He who doth not have such human knowledge of the Romeo of life, hath not the hidden pad from a maN named reV."

  "Who the hell is the 'Bard of Avalon'?" Josey asked. His young face was screwed up in a frown.

  She smiled. "You should have picked that up from the word Romeo. You heard of Romeo and Juliet?"

  "Shakespeare? The Bard of Avalon is Shakespeare?"

  "That was his nick name in England."

  "So, he's the key to truth, or should I say, this code."

  "That's my guess. And I have a suspicion it's what they call a 'one-time-pad' key. The reference to the hidden pad. Also, the person who wrote this gave the inventor name to confirm the solution."

  The Petty Officer was impressed not only by how good looking Harriette was, but by the fact she actually was as smart as people said. Probably even smarter. He was somewhat embarrassed to admit to himself that he was physically attracted to her. "Professor, I never heard of anyone in code breaking named 'Rev', plus I think we had some data issues. The words 'man' and 'rev' have capitals at the end."

  "For God's sake, Josey, my name is Harriette. Use it, okay? And I thought that was a problem too, but if you turn them around so that the capitals are in front, where they should be, what do you get?"

  "You get 'Nam Ver", or wait, you mean 'Ver Nam', Vernam! The person who invented the one time pad! Wow! That's it! The Romeo and Juliet novel is the one time pad code!"

  "Yep, and all we need to do is mix in Romeo and Juliet text via ASCII, and we should be able to translate the data. The online library will surely have a copy."

  "Uh, Harriette, that's great. Let's get cracking!"

  ***

  "So, what did the satellite have to say?' Keane asked as soon as Harriette appeared at the control room hatch and had signed in. Rambling, Brian Wannstead, and the regular control room officers were present. Everyone was anxious to hear the decoded message from the old satellite.

  "I'll play the voice section sir." Harriette hit the holo screen's voice-on button. First there was static, then a man's voice: "This is Josh Nash and Phil Miller of the Wannstead Athena , beaming report to Satellite WJ2. We are about fifty clicks out from the alien city Xanadu in the Xanadu system. We were fired on from the city and disabled and then caught by a kind of ...well, tractor beam is the best I can describe it ... and brought down very near the city. On the way down Captain Wilson ordered our shuttle to try launching from the ship. It partially succeeded but the tractor beam caught it, too. We broke loose right before the ship was grounded and managed to get this far before crashing. Apparently, the beam affected our thrusters. We're been found by alien creatures and robot type helpers and have maybe five to ten minutes to transmit. We advise to avoid this planet. The aliens are dangerous. Do not approach closer than a thousand kilometers. Make that fifteen hundred to be safe. We have destroyed all ship star charts, and wiped all our computer files and archives as part of the non-lethal self-destruct required by Wannstead. The ship's computers were also wiped as per Wannstead security protocol. The captain's last words were: "We cannot let this race reach Earth. They fired on us without warning despite days of contact protocols being broadcast and ...wait...we've been located ...we're going to fight. Have to go ...This is our first, last and only upload. Josh out-may God help us all!"

  During the last few words, the sound of gunfire could be heard, then crashing noises, screams, and finally silence.

  Keane looked over to the team. "We knew this would be tough. Unfortunately for those poor folks, they didn't have a clue."

  Major Rambling shook his head. "If we didn't need more intelligence so bad I'd say just nuke the bastards and get it over with."

  "I tend to agree with you, Major. But if there're still living hostages, I'm sure you agree that we want to get them. And I believe we must try to find out more about this damned enigma." He laughed mirthlessly. "Hell, you ask me, they should have named this place Enigma instead of Xanadu."

  "The last thing I want to do is leave anyone to the mercies of the aliens, Captain. They aren't marines but they're humans, and marines don't like leaving anyone behind or unaccounted for."

  Keane spoke soberly: "Steel, I think our friends on Xanadu are looking forward to meeting your troops."

  Rambling grinned like a shark, not saying a word but thinking: Oh yeah, Oorah! They'll be looking forward to meeting me and my troops like you look forward to getting your face punched in by a rushing train. These were some evil bastards and he now knew for certain they would be facing opposition. Up until now they were relatively certain of it but now they knew. It made a difference. He looked directly-and grimly-at Captain Keane, hoping his superior wouldn't take it the wrong way. "Oh yes sir, I'm looking forward to meeting our friends on Xanadu. I most certainly am!"

  "Good, we should get going as quickly as possible, as soon as we hear from Santa Cruz. Since Xanadu is farther away in its orbit than we anticipated, that might take up some more time. If so, use it for training. I'm going to run some e
xercises for the ship, too. And after some thought, and in light of the intelligence from the satellite, I propose we execute Xanadu Plan Overload, I think it's the best of the three approaches the sims gave us. What do you think, Major?"

  "It's the one I'd use sir, especially in light of our current situation and knowing they've almost certainly been warned by that little ship of theirs that got away."

  "Good, that's what we'll do, then."

  ***

  Doug made it back to his Wah with no trouble, but now he needed to get the knowledge of the source of power to the tractor beam to the rest of the underground. He felt inordinately pleased with himself. After so long a time when it appeared that the underground was making little or no progress, vital information was now available to help any ship from Earth rescue them. Doug took a chance, leaving a message at a regular drop point, and snuck out the next night at 2:00 am, when the Sinchik's sleep was deepest. He met with his rag-tag rebel comrades under the bright light of two of Xanadu's three moons. All the way to their meeting place, just inside the edge of the cultivated area where tall fruit trees grew, he thought of Clemmie and how much he would like to see her. He cut that distraction short as he approached his second in command, Sue Nakamura. "Hi Sue."

  The fifth generation Japanese American was tall, almost six feet. She hugged Doug with warm, genuine affection. "You're a crazy man Doug. I read your log yesterday. You could have gotten killed."

  "I know, but we need to take some calculated risks if we're ever getting off this rotten world."

  "From what I read, it's rotten to the core. That underground lab you saw, that's unbelievable."

  He walked with Sue toward a makeshift tent under the trees, pausing to grab a tomapple to munch on during the meeting. Their camouflaged canopy dropped to the ground, giving almost complete cover. An area inside been cleared of leaves and branches, and had collapsible tables and racks of equipment set up.

  "Sue, believe it. The Sinchiks and robots are studying humans like guinea pigs in a cage. Actually, I think it's the robots doing the studying. We rarely see Sinchiks down there according to what I've been told. Since I found out about the tunnel system and all the functions carried out beneath the city, I'm convinced the robots are evil. Something about all this stinks. I'm not sure if the robot's were created by the Sinchik and took power or if they're simply tools built by the Sinchik or an earlier race or what, but I really don't care who's in charge other than knowing which ones to fight first when the time comes."

  "Oh, I think the time to strike has come." Seeing his puzzled look, Sue asked, "You didn't hear?"

  "Hear what?"

  Sue walked Doug over to the communications table. Old radios, com sets, and various other parts of communication equipment sat there. Each piece was kept by one person and brought to the clandestine meetings so that discovery of one rebel wouldn't mean losing all their desperately hoarded equipment, most of it taken from the remains of their ship by dangerous night excursions. "See the field com over there? It's got a transponder, and it hasn't been lit since we were captured. It is now."

  "Oh my God! There's another ship coming!"

  "Calm down Doug, it only came on yesterday when we had it up for its regular test. We have no idea yet if the ship is a civilian or navy vessel, or whether it's exploring or has come to fight. So don't get too excited yet."

  His spirits had quickly soared and now they dropped just as fast. And yet the steady glow of the transponder light gave him hope for the first time in nearly two decades. "Got it. But we have to take the chance to attack the gravity generators for their tractor beam, and hope the ship is a rescue vessel. Otherwise how long do we wait, second guessing ourselves?"

  Now Sue was wrong footed. "You know where the tractor beam is? How? When? Doug, your report didn't say anything about-"

  "Hold it!" he said, putting up his hands in a warding gesture. "I found the gravity generators when I sneaked out two days ago. That's why I called the meeting tonight. We need to get this out, as well as the news about the new ship, too. Everyone gather round and let me show you. I've drawn a map but I want you all to memorize this, not carry around anything in writing. After you're sure you have the location in your head, we can talk about how to coordinate the knowledge with Clemmie's discovery of the rail guns intended to combat approaching ships."

  After every member assured him they had the location memorized he moved on to the rest of the agenda he had ready, including a plan to sabotage the generators. He thought that was the first priority.

  "Me and Helen can take care of it, Doug," Jordan Leatherman, a former explosives technician with Wannstead Industries said. "We've been waiting for something real good to use our Clatismite on. Tonight, while the location is still fresh in our minds."

  "You're sure you have it?"

  "If you drew the map right, we've got it," Helen said.

  "As best as I could. Thanks, guys. And come back, you hear?"

  Leatherman didn't answer. He slipped his arm around his wife and Helen leaned into the embrace. Doug knew they had about a fifty-fifty chance of getting back after setting off their store of Clatismite, hidden for so long and so carefully.

  "I assume you tried to call the ship with the com?" he asked Sue.

  "Yes, we tried," she said. "But it appears that the Sinchiks have some kind of SAT firewall system that blocks all codes, and we don't know how to bypass it."

  Doug grinned. "Why not just send all our data to the old Wannstead satellite? It should still be active. It had a nuclear power source good for at least fifty years operation." He frowned. "Wait, though. We'd need to know where its orbit is now. Damn."

  "Maybe I can help," Jankica Duroski said. She was a thin nervous woman with graying hair who rarely said much but could always be depended on to carry out orders, no matter how difficult. Her husband had been killed during the takedown of their ship.

  "How so?"

  "I know where and when it was deployed, and into what orbit. All I have to do is calculate where it should be now and you point your transponder in that direction."

  Doug was astounded. "You can do that?"

  Jankica gave him one of her rare smiles. "I have an eidetic memory, remember? And I can work most math problems in my head."

  Doug grinned happily. "Go to it, then!"

  Jankica closed her eyes and sat very still for long moments other than moving her lips in conjunction with a subaudible murmur as she ran through innumerable calculations in her mind. When she opened her eyes, she drew out a wrinkled piece of paper and the stub of a pen. She wrote out the coordinates of where she had calculated the satellite to be at this time of night. Fortunately, the satellite happened to be positioned where the rotation of the planet allowed it to be contacted for the next three hours.

  "Right! Let's give it a shot," Sue said enthusiastically. She hugged Jankica, then got to work. She connected the only space-worthy com unit known to exist by the underground to its power source. Its screen lit up with a display. Doug had to think back to remember what all the symbols meant, but with most of his wing of the underground present and contributing, he finally got it straight. After that it was only a matter of getting the broadcast beam pointed in the right direction. Once that was done he began reciting every pertinent bit of data the combined efforts of the group thought might help an avenging ship defeat the forces arrayed against them in Xanadu. He then asked for a response at set times. He set it to repeat at fifteen minute intervals until the rotation of Xanadu put the satellite out of reach.

  "That's it, folks. Now we need to keep broadcasting every day and hope they give us a shout at the times we've requested. Sue, I guess you've got the duty of listening and keeping possession of the com. It's strictly volunteer. If you don't want to take the chance, we'll find someone else." He would have taken on the task himself except for Frang being so nosy. The Sinchik entered his Wah at least once a day to snoop around, almost as if he believed Doug belonged to a conspiracy. Of course if t
hat were true, Doug would have been removed long since.

  "I'll do it. It's my chance to get back at those devils, no matter what the risk." She sat down by the unit to wait until the broadcast had repeated for the last time that day. Doug knew she had lost her lover to the Sinchik. A robot and two Sinchiks had come one day and dragged him off. She never saw him again.

  "Okay, folks, I think we'd better break this up and get back to our Wahs," Doug said. "We've been here too long as is. Sue, you be careful, hear?"

  "I will."

  He knew his injunction was basically senseless but sometimes words were all you had to give a person.

  ***

  "Captain Keane, another message from the satellite just came through!" Lieutenant Bogarty said excitedly from his alcove in the control room.

  Keane strode over to him quickly. "What is it?"

  "Look, sir." He displayed the message in text.

  Keane read it then read it again. "By God! The underground says they've destroyed the city's tractor beam! Talk about some brave sonsofbitches! You've got a recording of the message, I trust?"

  "Oh, certainly, Captain. That's routine."

  He knew it was but the import of it had drawn the words from him. "Good. Forward a copy to Major Rambling at once. Ask him to call me after he's had a chance to evaluate it."

  "Aye, aye, sir." Bogarty responded.

  This might make a big difference, Keane thought. Hell, it would make a big difference. Knowing they didn't have to worry about a tractor beam but also finding out that Xanadu was equipped with rail guns designed to fire into space was great news. Without that broadcast, he might have taken his ship directly into a swarm of slugs from the rail gun cannons. And not to be discounted was the confirmation of an active underground, ready to assist the marines when they assaulted the city to rescue the human slaves, as well as the piece of sabotage they'd already carried out!