The Sha'lee Resurrection

by Paul G White

  “Does everything work like that?” he asked Carter.

  “Like what?” Carter enquired innocently.

  “The way that wall just disappeared. Y’know, now you see it, now you don’t. Like a magic trick?”

  “Oh, I see what you mean,” Carter grinned as they entered the transporter and the wall reappeared behind him. “Sorry, I’ve got used to it, I suppose, but most of the doors open like that. This way, follow me.” Everyone’s eyes had been attracted by the reappearance of the transporter’s wall and they had failed to notice the vast warehouse behind them.

  “Palo, here did most of the tidying up in this hold,” Carter announced proudly as they made their way between the neat aisles of machinery and stores. “You wouldn’t believe what it was like when the first human beings came aboard . . . everything thrown around by the tsunami and a great deal of it smashed and unsalvageable.”

  Envious eyes regarded the young plant operator. “Have you been any further than this?” Helena Wightman asked Lopez.

  Lopez flashed her a dazzling smile. “No, Señorita, I only worked in here.” He spread his arms wide. “It was a big job. No time to go anywhere else.”

  As the group reached the next transporter, it was apparent to Carter that Helena Wightman had edged closer to Palo Lopez. Carter allowed himself a smile. Perhaps he had just witnessed the beginning of another relationship. Perhaps the two youngsters would eventually make the epic journey together to find Sha’lee’an. But first, there was the matter of training to be addressed. “Let’s go find the others,” he said. “Hela, can you tell Captain Lessil we’re on board?”

  The AI’s sweet voice filled the air, “Welcome back on board, Mike Carter. I have made our captain aware and he will receive you shortly. And welcome also, Palo Lopez, it’s nice to have you with us once again. Dr Carter, may I request that your companions name themselves and quickly list their skills so that I may welcome them also? If they miss anything, all they need to do is mention it and I will make a record.”

  Carter gestured to the young archaeology student and she said, “Helena Wightman, archaeology, English and art.”

  One by one, the others complied with Hela’s request.

  “Thank you, everyone,” the AI announced, “and welcome aboard the Comora. If you would follow Dr Carter, he will lead you to the refectory, where you will find the remainder of the ship’s crew. Captain Lessil will meet you there. And, Dr Carter?”

  “Yes, Hela?”

  “Good luck!”

  “Thanks, Hela, but let’s hope we don’t need it.” With that, Carter set off in pursuit of the flickering lights which guided the small group to the Comora’s canteen.

  Lessil was waiting in the crowded refectory as they arrived. Most of those present were holding lists of duties for them to learn, courtesy of the advanced reprographics at the AI’s command.

  Phil Makeman grinned at Carter. “No rest for the wicked, Mike. Hela’s just produced these for the new intake, and you’ll even find there’s a list for you. And by the way, Captain Lessil seems pretty happy with your choices.”

  Carter muttered, “Thanks,” as he handed out the lists to the new crewmembers, who were finding it difficult to believe that, in such a short period, the AI had been able to decide on the duties to which they were most suited, informed the ship’s captain and produce a hard copy list. He scanned his sheet, which was headed: Dr Michael Carter, General Liaison Officer. Duties: to ensure complete integration of Sha’lee and human crew, and to ensure that the human world is kept up to date with progress aboard the Comora. Lift-off date: 6th April 2029.

  As Carter reread the list Makeman commented, “Best person for the job, I reckon, my friend. You’re probably going to be a bit busy when the word gets around about the asteroid and our captain’s response. You might want to ask Minister Hernandez to let you and Hela field all the flak that’s going to be flying around once everything’s made public. Hela’s made a cabin available for you to use as your office, and Rellic, one of our engineers, has fixed up one of the site phones for you.” Makeman grinned boyishly. “Don’t ask me how it works on board ship because I haven’t the faintest idea, but Hela will connect you to anyone you ask her to, and people can use it to contact you just as if you were in your site office.”

  Being around the Sha’lee had truly mellowed Makeman’s ofttimes abrasive personality to a point where Carter barely recognised his friend. How long would the new Phil Makeman last? Carter wondered ruefully as he followed Hela’s guidance to his ‘office’, leaving Makeman to deal with the six new crewmembers.

  *

  Over the following days, Captain Lessil and his officers drilled all the Comora’s crew in the duties necessary to take the starship into space. No one, particularly the children, was willing to jeopardise the heroic venture through lack of commitment or effort, and by the end of their daily duties, everyone was exhausted, both human and Sha’lee alike.

  As expected, Mike Carter was inundated by telephone calls from governments and the press, all demanding information about the manner in which the threat to Earth was to be nullified. As suggested by Makeman, Carter made an informal request to Minister Hernandez to allow him to field all the enquiries, to which the minister readily agreed. Carter had prepared a press release, which he emailed to any enquirer who requested it. Hela, the ship’s AI thoroughly enjoyed herself, fielding telephone calls when their numbers became so great that Carter could not handle them all. After a particularly busy period, in which the AI had answered several calls simultaneously, Hela confessed to Carter that no one would ever suspect that they had not been talking to Carter himself.

  One recurring question was this: if the Sha’lee could take the Comora into space to destroy the asteroid Apophis 99942, why had they not done so to save themselves sixty-five million years ago? Carter and Hela replied every time that the Sha’lee had been on Earth for such a short while they had not even considered the threat of an imminent meteor strike. In the end, there were far too few crewmembers aboard to enable the ship to lift off. Almost two-thousand Sha’lee had failed to make it back to the ship before the heat and blast had struck – and then it was too late.

  Not one single enquirer had requested further information.

  On the eve of lift-off Jean-Luc Gossart placed his arm around Leta, the Sha’lee linguistics expert’s shoulders and hugged her to him. “We are a team, you and I,” he said gravely, belying his years and the fact that until a few short weeks ago he had been locked within his own mind by autism, “We have learned how to monitor the meteor defences and to tell our captain if anything is not exactly as it should be. I am very happy to make this journey to save my country and my world, and then we shall search for the home you left so long, long ago.

  Captain Lessil gave the order for all the training to cease, and announced, “Everyone, please make your way to the refectory.” Fifteen minutes later, once all the crew were seated in the canteen, Lessil addressed them. “You have all worked diligently and tirelessly to learn the procedures for lifting the Comora into space, and am confident that we can now safely make the journey to destroy the asteroid that threatens Earth. I have instructed Traybaren, Dollen and their assistant, Kylie Redman to prepare a feast for us all. They have prepared their surprise in secret, so I have no idea whether or not we will be served something unspeakable from the specimens of local wildlife collected by our exploration teams during the days before the meteor impact.” He made a theatrical grimace and continued, “I sincerely hope not!”

  The canteen erupted with laughter. Up until this point, most had viewed Captain Lessil as a serious, almost humourless executive officer. But that notion had been dispelled by one small, informal speech.

  Makeman thought, he is pretty human, after all, and Lessil smiled to himself at the thought leaked inadvertently by the unsuspecting Makeman.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  At 05:46 on the sixth of April 2029 the first rays of dawn sunlight projected the
shadow of a nearby hill over the Comora, where she had lain for so many millions of years beneath the Maya mountains. Hela gave a quiet, but insistent, wake-up call to the mixed crew of Sha’lee and humans, totalling one hundred and fourteen, including children.

  When the AI’s sensors informed her that everyone was fully awake, she announced, “Would everyone please make their way to the canteen, where Traybaren and his small team have prepared breakfast. If any of our human crewmembers are prone to motion sickness, do not worry. During take-off you will be completely isolated from all sense of motion.”

  Captain Lessil was amongst the first to arrive at the refectory, and he was shortly joined by his two surviving Sha’lee officers, Hollifal and Cray. All three were in full uniform: each wore a simple one-piece, form-fitting garment in a rich blue, belted around their slim waists. The garments reached just above their lower pairs of knees, ending in elasticated cuffs. Lessil wore in the middle of his chest a black triangular badge, decorated with a planet and three moons motif, and on his white belt a large, highly-polished black oval clasp. These were the only insignia of rank. The remainder of the eighteen Sha’lee crew were attired in uniforms of varying colour, dependent on the particular posts they held. Hela had provided comfortable uniforms for the human crewmembers to reflect the tasks they would undertake during the expedition, as a ready means of identification in an emergency for Captain Lessil and his officers.

  When everyone had finished a hearty breakfast, Lessil stood to address them. “Those gathered here,” he said, “are the sole hope of saving the planet of our human friends from disaster. As you know there are few of us, and if we had been given more time, we would have raised our numbers to a more comfortable level and trained everyone to the skill levels of my original crew. However, I am confident that everyone on board the Comora will perform their duties in a manner that will keep both the Comora, and ultimately the Earth, safe. You all know what you have to do. Is everyone ready?”

  Everyone in the canteen yelled, “Yes, Captain!” at the tops of their voices. The Sha’lee superimposed a telepathic shout upon their vocal efforts and even the least sensitive of the humans on board experienced subdued mental echoes.

  “Thank you! Then everyone will go to their assigned posts. Dr Carter, please inform Minister Hernandez that we will lift off in fifteen minutes. Rellic, please have your engineers make their final checks on the antigravity drive and meteorite defences. Good luck, everyone, we are counting down to lift-off.”

  A holographic digital clock, visible from all directions, appeared in the centre of the bridge, counting down from 14 minutes and 57 seconds. The same clock appeared on all decks of the Comora, in every position likely to be occupied by one of the crew. The mixed complement of Sha’lee and humans busied themselves with the tasks of checking systems, aided by the omnipresent Hela. Almost all the humans, particularly the children, were in a heightened state of excitement at the imminent prospect of journeying off Earth and into the near reaches of the solar system.

  Alexei Korolev, however, was filled with sublime anticipation; after so many empty years, he was returning to space. But this time he would be travelling in the comfort of normal gravity – rather than sitting atop what amounted to little more than a three-thousand tonne firework, whilst enduring bone-crushing acceleration and mind-numbing vibration and noise. In addition (Alexei smiled inwardly at the thought), he would be walking on two strong legs, his damaged leg having been miraculously repaired by Sha’lee surgical nanomachines whilst he slept. The ex-cosmonaut eventually shook himself mentally and returned his attention to the job in hand

  The digital clock counted down to one minute, then ticked down remorselessly towards zero and take-off. At ten seconds Hela added a verbal commentary, “Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . shield power increasing . . . six . . . antigravity nominal . . . three . . . everyone on board the mighty ship was gazing intently at their instrument panels to ensure that no malfunction passed by unnoticed . . . two . . . one . . . full power to antigravity drive. The Comora seemed to hesitate momentarily on her landing gear and then Hela began counting once again. “One-thousand metres . . . landing gear retracted . . . seven-thousand metres . . . twenty-thousand metres and accelerating. The human crewmembers staring at the banks of viewscreens gasped as the sky went instantly to black, and an image of Earth began to retreat behind the Comora at a rapidly increasing pace. A cheer resounded throughout all the decks of the mighty spaceship, signalling the need for a further increase in acceleration. From the moment of take-off, the ship and her crew had been insulated from the effects of gravity – or lack of it, and had experienced no sensation of movement. Their only means of knowing that they were no longer at rest in the Maya mountains of Belize, was what they saw though the viewscreens.

  Lessil said quietly, “Hela, open the shutters.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  One wall of the bridge seemed to melt away, revealing a vast, crescent-shaped expanse of stark blackness, punctuated by a multitude of bright pinpricks of light. To the humans, there appeared to be nothing between themselves and the cold vacuum of empty space. But appearances were deceptive, because the viewport was protected by a powerful, invisible force field, overlaid by the Comora’s shield. In the centre of the crescent a tiny white speck was slowly brightening: asteroid 99942 Apophis, heading for a collision with Eastern Europe on Friday, 13th May 2029.

  Parel’s voice sounded throughout the ship. “Captain, the collision which changed the asteroid’s course has broken off several pieces, and it will not be just a simple task of destroying one target. I have identified five more fragments, each several metres across, closely grouped around the main body of Apophis.”

  “Keep observing and inform the bridge if you discover any further fragments.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  The Comora continued to accelerate until Lessil ordered, “Manoeuvre to match speed with the asteroid at a distance of one hundred kilometres.”

  Cray replied, “Manoeuvre initialised, Captain.”

  The white speck, which had grown noticeably larger in the centre of the screens, began to drift to the left as the starship altered course to swing around behind the asteroid before coming alongside. As the Comora continued her wide loop the asteroid vanished from the forward screens and appeared on lateral viewers. The force screen darkened as the edge of the sun came into view, slowly moving from left to right until it passed out of sight once again. The seconds on the digital clock ticked into minutes and eventually a bright speck, accompanied by five dim companions, drifted from the left until the group centred on the forward screens once again.

  Cray’s calm voice announced, “Fifty-seven thousand kilometres and closing.”

  The white specks drifted to the right as the mighty ship made the necessary course change to bring her alongside. The lateral screens picked up the space rocks and the whole group eventually filled one side screen. From a distance of one hundred kilometres, the ship’s instruments were able to resolve several smaller fragments loosely bound by weak gravitational force to the mother asteroid.

  In silence, everyone near a screen stared at the assembly of space rocks bound for continental Europe.

  Lessil’s calm voice cut through the silence. “Leta, Jean-Luc, Hela are the Comora’s asteroid defences up to full power and ready for deployment?”

  One by one all three voices answered in the affirmative.

  “Then destroy the smaller asteroids first to prevent them separating when they are no longer held by our main target’s gravity. Destroy Apophis when you are certain there are no more fragments.”

  Again the affirmations sounded across the bridge of the starship. Two of the targets vanished from the screen, then several more in quick succession, until only the main body of Apophis remained. Hela increased power to the defensive weapon and fired a sustained burst of the disruptor beam. Nothing happened for several seconds as the irresistible force ate into more than half a billion tonnes
of nickel iron. When it seemed that the weapon was having little effect on the immense asteroid, stars suddenly shone through the area of space previously occupied by the three-hundred metre mountain of ore. Apart from muted voices, there had been no sound to indicate that elemental forces had been employed as a weapon of defence. There had been no vibration through the fabric of the ship and no sound from the near-vacuum of space. The vast tonnage of space rock had just vanished as completely as if it had never existed. All that remained were the elemental particles, set free to ride the tides of gravity around the Sun and its widespread retinue of planets.

  Captain Lessil stepped up onto a raised dais in the centre of the bridge. “Well done, everyone. Clearly my confidence in you all was not misplaced. Now all that remains is for us to head for ho—”

  A massive shockwave ripped through the ship, throwing all the members of the crew about like chaff in the wind. Lessil, who was the only person, human or Sha’lee, on his feet at the moment the shockwave hit, was thrown clear across the bridge and fetched up like a discarded toy against a row of metalloid cabinets. Most of the others on board were torn from their seats and hurled onto the floor in disarray. It was a tribute to the builders of the Comora that the starship’s internal gravity fields had not been disrupted by the shock.

  Lessil’s breath was knocked out of him by the impact, and his head was filled with terrifying images and memories of his near death in the throes of the tsunami. He groaned where he lay on the floor fighting to get to his feet, and his lungs heaved as he fought to fill them with air. The rest of the humans and Sha’lee on the bridge, were all struggling to their feet in varying states of shock and confusion.

  “Hela,” Lessil finally managed to gasp, “report on what just happened.”

  His command brought an almost human groan from the ship’s AI; Hela had been stunned and completely disorientated by the shockwave, and she was slow to respond. She tried several times to reply, but all she managed were a few unintelligible mutterings. Eventually, sounding extremely shaky and confused, Hela mumbled, “I . . . will . . . check, Captain.” The AI distractedly muttered a few phrases before seeming to gather herself together. Finally, she announced, “It seems there was a further fragment that had separated from the main target by a far greater margin than the others, and we failed to pick it up on our instruments. At this moment we are tumbling through space, but the Comora’s systems are automatically compensating for the unnatural motion in order to prevent further injury to her crew.”