The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books

by John Thornton

  Jerome walked over to the workbench and found a tool belt hanging next to it. He strapped that on and patted the hand tools. “This is better than what we could have found in that ESRC.” He was smiling broadly.

  “And the hanger bay with Sandie is right over there. Jerome, we have made it!”

  Jerome approached the large clear permalloy window. To his right was a display screen hanging down from a mechanical arm on the ceiling. To his left was a work bench. Tools and controls were now powered up and standing by. On the screen, a schematic for rocket engines was displaying their status. “This is a control system for retrorockets. They were used in the landing and descent to the surface.” He tapped on the screen, several more graphics were displayed. “However, communication is inoperable here.”

  “But we are close to the hanger bay anyway,” Cammarry added.

  Jerome stepped up to the permalloy window. It was about two meters tall, and three meters wide. “I wonder how far off the surface of the planet we are here?”

  As Jerome leaned over to look out, his face was tainted by the yellowish green glow of Zalia. There was no sign of the red sun, but the light was hazy and fairly bright. He leaned in closer when, suddenly, there was movement outside the window.

  “Oh!” Jerome jumped back. “What are you?”

  Looking in from the outside, with only about twenty centimeters of transparent permalloy between them, was an animal, a creature, a being of sorts.

  Cammarry looked over and exclaimed, “Zalian life!”

  “We are not alone.” Jerome stepped up and looked closer.

  “Not just life, but intelligent life,” Cammarry stated. “It has tools.”

  A pointy head, and wide mouth filled with sharp teeth dominated Jerome’s first impression. Four round, black and shiny as obsidian, eyes moved independently on the sides of its head. A four fingered hand was pressed against the outside of the clear permalloy. Small ridges and lines were visible on the flesh of the digits.

  “Crocodile?” Jerome muttered as his mind tried to make sense of what he was seeing. He was thinking of all the biology recordings he had seen, and anything he had read about animals, but nothing quite fit what was standing right before him. His mind raced through all the animals he had seen in the habitats, and he exclaimed, “Upright crocodile?” He remembered part of an inscription from somewhere, “Invade this tomb, you will be eaten by a crocodile and an elephant.”

  “Jerome, that is not animal life! It is sentient, sapient, and intelligent life,” Cammarry remarked. “Look, it has clothing and is using tools.”

  The creature looking in was somewhat shorter than Jerome was, but much stockier. It was wearing clothing, of a sort, a brownish color, darker than its flesh. Its hands, stubby neck, and head were not covered by the clothing. Its flesh was overall a mottled grayish with an undertone of green. Its pointy head was set between four horizontally connected shoulders, like a square. Beneath each shoulder an arm emerged. The arms were covered by the clothing, a shirt which was open around the short neck. At least two elbows and a wrist were observed on each arm as they bent to their mysterious tasks. The shirt clothing had straps around the arms with pouches at various places. The arms each ended with a four fingered, uncovered hand. Each of those four arms and hands was working, two were attaching something mechanical, a tool as Cammarry called it, to the outside of the clear permalloy. The other two were moving items around or feeling the permalloy.

  The waist of the being was about as wide as the shoulders and had a belt with deep pockets, pouches, and boxes attached to it. The belt reminded Jerome of the tool belt he had just slipped on himself, as both looked to serve the same function. Beneath the waist were four hips sets horizontally, directly beneath the horizontal shoulders. Four thick legs, covered by the clothing, a four-legged set of pants, were how the being ambulated. Some kind of stiff looking material covered the ends of its legs, but gave the rough outline of feet or hooves. It was standing on a scaffold made from some kind of brownish, reddish purple colored materials. Others beings like it were at the base of the scaffold. Two were climbing on the scaffold with obvious ease. Machines were also around the base of the scaffolding.

  Cammarry approached cautiously. She placed a hand on Jerome and said, “Life. Zalian life. Look at how heavily muscular that is. Four legs, four arms, four fingers, and four eyes.” She looked down at her own hand and flexed her fingers back and forth. Her own fingers were not even a third as thick as the being’s on the outside were. Everything about it was thicker, heavier, and denser looking. She flexed her hand again.

  The being on the other side of the permalloy window flexed its four fingers in a similar manner.

  “It sees us!” Cammarry dropped her hand down.

  “What is it doing there?” Jerome asked in wonder. Fear, astonishment, revulsion, and curiosity mixed and swirled through his mind. “This is an alien. An extraterrestrial. Fermi’s paradox may have just gotten an answer.”

  The four bulbous eyes on the bony ridges of its head swiveled to look more at Jerome and then two switched back to look at Cammarry. Its four eyes swiveled independently of each other. Two of its arms were still holding some device tightly against the permalloy.

  A third arm opened a box on its belt and drew out some kind of implement which fit its four-fingered hand perfectly. With that hand it sprayed something onto the permalloy. Its hand moved rapidly, and the fourth hand then followed that one with some kind of flexible sheet of something. The sheet was applied over where the spray had gone. Then it was removed and discarded.

  A dull inscription appeared on the outside of the clear permalloy.

  “Letters?” Cammarry said. “Reversed letters.”

  ‘You leave now’ appeared in rough and irregular letters. They were a shimmering black color with sparkling silver flecks in the lettering.

  “How does it know our language?” Cammarry muttered. “That is a story I must learn.”

  “The Conestoga has been here for decades,” Jerome stated.

  The being slammed a four-fingered fist into the permalloy next to the lettering. There was no sound, but the effect brought attention to the words. It then used a different arm to trace a circle around the lettering.

  “It is emphatic!” Cammarry stated. “What do we say in return?”

  “We say nothing. We must ask Sandie.” Jerome pulled Cammarry back. “It says to go, but I have too many questions and too many ideas, and too many mysteries, to know how to respond right now. Intelligent alien life. Simply amazing. How many stories, legends, and tales have been told about meeting a foreign, alien, life form.”

  “I want to know all about it. There must be a story here. How does an alien know our language? Why is it here? What does it want?” Cammarry was eager to try something. She pulled away from Jerome and placed her hand up against the clear permalloy. The being drew a rapid circle around the letters it had written. Then it made several gestures which were completely incompressible. The letters were fading away.

  “Cammarry, we need to ask Sandie about this. Perhaps she has those answers. But consider, to that Crock, or whatever it is, we are the aliens. We are the invaders from space.”

  Cammarry resisted a bit. Jerome grabbed her and tugged. “How many historical accounts shall I recite about the disasters which happened when two cultures mingled? That was just on Earth with humans. Homosapiens could not get along with each other, and destroyed our own world. How much different will it be between us and those Crocks?”

  “It is intelligent, and it is trying to communicate.” Cammarry moved along with Jerome. “An intelligent race will have stories, culture, and knowledge. Mathematics, linguistics, it already knows our language. They are communicating!”

  “Yes, but what does that message mean? Cammarry, hundreds of stories, books, old style entertainment movies, and games were written speculating about contact with aliens, and most of those predicted war or some other horrible outcome. Historically, foreigne
rs were seldom welcomed in companionship and cooperation. We have no idea who those Crocks have already contacted, nor what transpired. What have humans already done to them? The people in Beta slaughter animals and abandon children. In Alpha they are enslaving their own people. What has happened between those Crocks and humans?” Jerome pondered. “The Conestoga humans were here for decades before we ever arrived. They have treated us poorly, what did they do to those Crocks? It could be like the indigenous people of the American continents. We are the invaders. It told us to leave now. Why? Why order us away, except because there is already hostility? What has happened on Zalia already? All that is unknown. Come on, we need Sandie now more than ever.”

  “I see your point.” Cammarry looked away. “But Crocks? Is that a name?”

  “Well, it does look kind of like a crocodile, and I thought of calling them crocodylomorphs, or crocosapiens, but right now I just want to consult Sandie.”

  They quickly gathered up their supplies, and removed the fusion pack from the access port. The lights dimmed significantly after the fusion pack connection was broken. Momentarily, the work station’s displays all faded out. The panels did not close, nor did the coverings slide back over the clear permalloy window. The Crock remained where it was, working whatever it was doing, putting its enigmatic tools against the exterior of the habitat. The greenish yellow glow from Zalia infused the area with its otherworldly light. Seeing that light shimmering inside, bode ill in Jerome’s heart and mind.

  They walked out of Auxiliary Retrorocket Control through the door marked Dardanella 135. It led to a stairwell where they heard Sandie’s message playing from above. Jerome turned and shut the door, blocking out the Zalian light. His last look at the being showed it to be industriously working at its enigmatic agenda.

  14 reunion, revelation, reflections

  “Come in,” the simulation of Doctor Chambers said in answer to the request at his office door.

  The simulation of Sandie walked in and sat down. “I have returned.”

  “So I see. It seems that you are here to either report good news or to ask another question or three,” Doctor Chambers stated as he looked over Sandie.

  “I must admit it is not good news,” Sandie the AI stated. “I have been broadcasting the message, but have not been able to find any way to receive incoming replies. Nor has anyone come to Hanger Bay Dardanella 135.”

  “So basically you are still alone.” Doctor Chambers steepled his fingers. “Do you want to discuss the possibility that Jerome and Cammarry may not have heard your message? Or that there is some major hindrance to them replying or seeking you out? In some biological habitat, as you have described, I can readily imagine a multitude of reasons for them to not have heard, as well as a myriad of things which could be obstacles to their reaching you. If I can think up those possibilities, and I am just a human, what have you pondered?”

  “I have run conjectures on those possibilities,” Sandie stated, and pulled her legs up beneath her on the simulated couch. “There is a real possibility that they have not heard, for any of a wide variety of reasons. You have implored me to consider those potentialities. Basically, that would mean I have failed in my mission.”

  “Being alone does not always mean failure. Being alone is a part of life. From what Jubal, Lorna, and Murial have told me about these missions, the best outcome would have been only one success in the seven attempts, or am I wrong?”

  “Doctor Chambers, you are not wrong, and I applaud you for interviewing the Committee about all this. I am glad I gave your simulation enough free-will to do that,” Sandie replied. “So the Committee outlined success as the recovery of a colony ship and the Dome 17 people being teleported onto that same ship.”

  “They did. So only one out of seven could be successful, and no guarantee of that one mission even working out.” He leaned back in his chair. “Which does lead again to the question of the fate of Dome 17, which you obviously know but refuse to discuss.”

  Sandie put a simulated finger to her mouth and chewed on it for a moment. “Well, Master Engineer Brink designated a different set of parameters for success. Ideally, the primary objective of the quest was to find the colony ship and transport the population of Dome 17 onboard, however, that was not the only criteria for success. Brink placed secondary objectives as reasonable alternatives should the primary mission not be possible. Therefore, I look at success as establishing a safe residence for Jerome and Cammarry.”

  “Did you hear what you just said?” Doctor Chambers leaned in. He considered pressing for more information about the outcome of Dome 17, but restrained himself.

  “Yes. I said success is establishing a safe residence for Jerome and Cammarry.”

  “But you also told me that you have not contacted them in your rescue mission, what did you call it? Oh yes, Operation Faithful Lightning. You are still alone. Physically you are on that needle ship in orbit, and through your mission, remotely connected, but still alone in that shuttle. Am I understanding this correctly?”

  Sandie paused and waited.

  “Being alone can be a frightening experience. Shall we talk about ways to cope with that?”

  Sandie’s simulated face broke into a huge smile. “There is no need!!! The AI was gleeful in her voice. “I just recognized Jerome’s and Cammarry’s voice from a sensor just on the edge of Dardanella 135!” The simulated Sandie jumped up and rushed over to Doctor Chambers. She threw her arms around him and hugged him.

  “I assume I am no longer needed?” he laughed as the simulation faded away.

  “You will always be needed!” Sandie slipped from the hug, and the office washed-out into a tan nothingness. “I will reactivate this simulation when your services are required again. Thank you!”

  “But what of Dome 17?” Doctors Chambers words echoed along, “And I was just getting adjusted to being an un-corporeal entity.”

  Back in the physical world, Jerome and Cammarry stood before the pressure doors which were labeled Dardanella 135. There was a nine-section color control pad next to the doors. It was glowing with the different colors. They had climbed two sets of stairs to reach that pair of doors. It was not a main entrance, as the stairway was not large enough to bring many supplies in or out, but was more of a supplemental passageway. Everything in that stairway had been in good repair, although there was some dust and the air was musty. They had heard Sandie’s message repeated over and over while they climbed the stairs.

  “Will anyone help? Jerome and Cammarry! I am here! I have a shuttle docked in Dardanella 135, a hanger bay at the stern of Habitat Beta. It is near a large facility controlling gravity manipulation. I am waiting for you. Repeating. Will anyone help? Jerome and Cammarry! I am here! I have a shuttle docked in Dardanella 135, a hanger bay at the stern of Habitat Beta. It is near a large facility controlling gravity manipulation. Repeating….”

  Jerome held up the key-finder and activated it. Just as it was running through the cycles to find the proper unlocking sequence, the doors slid open. The repeated message shut down.

  “I must say I am so glad Sandie sent that message out,” Cammarry commented.

  “It did bring us here.” Jerome stepped through the now open doorway. “Sandie? Sandie? Can you hear me?”

  There was no response. An oddly shaped room opened before them and its lights came on. It was about ten meters long and five meters wide. The far end had another set of doors. Those bulkhead doors were closed. Seven large spindle hooks projected down from the ceiling to their left. Three spacesuits were hanging on spindles to their left, while the other four were empty. Clear permalloy bubble helmets were attached next to each spacesuit.

  The pressure doors shut behind them, the color pad on this side of those doors still glowed with power.

  “Not quite an airlock, but some kind of maintenance access,” Cammarry said. “Lots of storage, emergency equipment, and repair items for the shuttles.” She was looking at the rack of open shelves opposite from
where the spacesuits were hanging.”

  Jerome touched the wall. “In a way it reminds me of the fusion truck garage outside of decontamination back in Dome 17. It is certainly an avenue from one place to another. This place looks nearly pristine compared to some of what we saw in Beta. If that gravity manipulation oscillator apparatus was as well preserved as this, would there be those nasty gravity sink holes?”

  “I wish we had been able to record what we observed, so Sandie could review those findings. At least on those trips to the other domes, we had a working data stick recording everything for later evaluation. Here we just have our own recollections. I hope they will be enough,” Cammarry replied.

  “That is especially true about that Zalian Crock.” Jerome extended his hand to Cammarry. “Sandie should be right beyond those doors.”

  The bulkhead doors opened automatically as they stepped up close. The antechamber did open to the short end of the hanger bay. The doors were behind some large thruster fuel tanks. The hanger bay was brightly illuminated from multiple light sources in the ceiling. The large display screen along the back was cracked and nonfunctional. It was the only damage they could see. Six shuttles were clamped down, one in each of the stalls of the hanger bay.