by Richard Gohl
Attention soon turned to the vastness of Sirius which, from Earth, had been to the ancients the nose of a dog belonging to the Greek hunter Orion. The Sirius star system was bathed in light and heat and as their eyes adjusted to the glare. They saw to their port side a little yellow planet, shining like wet clay. Twenty minutes further around Sirius, there were cheers as Dog Star B. provided a bright backdrop to another two planets. One was orange and covered in dark cracks, while further out was a larger, clearly terrestrial, dry-looking planet, light brown in color. Soon they were close enough to see landforms: there were canyons, mountains, and myriad serpentine markings across its surface—evidence of the presence of water, at least at some stage. Thin clouds were dispersed widely across its surface. Magellan leant over to Shane and said, “The twin planet.”
Shane announced: “There it is… the twin planet.” People frowned at each other and shook their heads. This was no twin! They couldn’t believe they’d come all this way for a desert.
“Yes, indeed, that is Romulus—not green, not blue, but brown. But don’t be fooled! It has a breathable atmosphere, a perfect temperature… and water.” Shane had slipped into sales mode.
“Water?” people were saying, shrugging their shoulders. “Where?”
As they flew closer, veering to the starboard side, it seemed he was right. Dark rivers trickled into speckles of blue lakes. There was even a broad sea reflecting brightly, the white light of Sirius.
Kristina and Ryan had been sitting at the front of a group of adults at the base of a large window. “Look,” said Kristina with her finger on the window. “There, near those black crack things… all those tiny squares!”
“Oh yeah,” said Ryan. “And there’s another one, all green in the middle!” He, too, was pointing now, and soon, so was everybody else.
For a few minutes there was chatter. Magellan was clearly surprised. He had not seen this before. In fact, until the pictures of the Remus creatures, he had always been skeptical of the likelihood of any two species evolving simultaneously in different galactic locations. Yet apparently, there it was, again.
All eyes turned to him for an explanation. “He knew all about it…” a man yelled out.
Magellan was extremely cool under pressure. It was that, or exhaustion. Shane couldn’t tell. Magellan spoke:
“We knew there was life—plant life, and simple organisms—but there was nothing to indicate intelligent life, no…” Many of the people laughed ironically in disbelief. Magellan was not fazed. “If, in fact, that is what we’re looking at… nature often builds structures using what we think are exclusively human geometrical patterns. It seems certain structural techniques are universal.”
“Speak English!” a woman yelled. There was scattered laughter.
A man responded, sarcastically, “Oh, so they’re not buildings –they’re just mountains!” There was more widespread laughter at this.
“Mountains of what?” asked the woman, cuing the man. He dutifully responded. “Mountains of bullshit!” This was made all the more hilarious because it was what real
people had always wanted to tell Service officials.
Magellan waited for the hilarity to subside. “In the last sixty-odd years of Telesync, we attempted contact with fifty thousand different communication paradigms but received no response.”
“Whatever they are,” said Shane, “we leave them for now because that’s not our planet.”
The ship continued on its journey around Romulus and, indeed, the further they went, the more of the square structures they saw. Their fly-by of Romulus soon to be over, Magellan used a telescope projector to provide a close up of one of the structures. The image was projected onto the internal wall of the space ship. Whatever it was, it had come out of the landscape itself, from local material—being the same color as the surrounding rock, hence the initial difficulty in seeing them. Each one was made up of a larger, central square, divided up into many smaller ones. From each corner of the middle square black lines radiated outward to the point where there were twelve external squares, similar to the middle one but slightly smaller. The area between the central square and the external ones was green, with some form of plant life, so everyone assumed.
Although Magellan had neither confirmed nor denied what they were looking at, the general consensus was that they were cities.
But there was no sign of movement.
“Tonight we head back to Remus and in seventy-five hours will make contact with our comrades in the fleet. Questions can be answered then. It’s most urgent now that we all rest,” said Alia.
“Who put you in charge?” It was the comedian again.
“Do you have a problem with that?” asked Alia, taking a half step in his direction. The man scratched the back of his neck.
“Everyone alive on this ship wants us to be settled safely on this beautiful planet as soon as possible. We all want the same thing, and your skills and talents will be required in getting there—that means everyone here.” She waved her arm, indicating Shane and Magellan.
After waking up the next day, Shane had begun studying the navigational features of the Sapphire and had called for Magellan to join him on the deck. After receiving no response, Shane walked to his apartment, only to find that someone, four or five hours ago, had stolen into Magellan’s room, put a pillow over his head, and cut his throat.
He called Alia to meet him on the deck and, after explaining to her what had happened, said, “I want you to find who did this.”
“How? Pretty much everyone wanted to do that. And people have been wandering all over the ship for the last forty-eight hours...”
“We needed him. He was a good guy,” said Shane.
“He was Service. He had blood on his hands. It was revenge.”
“Well, if I find the guy who did it… he’ll be free-styling in zero gravity.”
“Don’t do it. Let it go.”
“And what if I’m next?” he asked her.
“You’re lucky,” she said, stepping close to him. “Lucky you’re popular.” She put a hand up to his chin and took it between her thumb and forefinger. “Lucky I’m looking out for you.” She put her other hand behind his head. His hair had been growing wavier, thicker and lighter, his eyes no longer black but showing color. She pulled his face forwards, her tongue slipping in between his lips.
He paused to breath. “We’re really on our own now,” he said, shaking his head. Alia kicked the door shut.
Chapter 67
The Silent Ships
OVER THE NEXT day, the gravity of the planet acted like a slingshot on the spaceship and they were flung back towards the blinding Sirius and passed by its white heat and immense radiation. Most tried to stay cool in their cabins until the worst of it was over—but the news soon spread when they came into view of their new home, Remus.
As they passed around the green planet, out of the glare and into the shadow, they saw thirty other black eggs hanging in space like tadpole eggs –all the ships of Asia and America. To think that there were other people, other human survivors, supporters, and helpers on these ships—the sense of danger and doom evaporated.
The American ships were slightly different—more angular in design, but in principle, the same.
And there was the Opal. Communication was attempted immediately.
They waited. There was no reply. The ship now being on manual thrust, they sidled up to
It, realizing that no light was emanating from any of the windows—and only very dimly from the Service deck. They received no response.
The same happened with each of the Australian ships—on board all was darkness. After physically approaching ten, eleven, twelve other craft, Shane broadcast the same
message: “This is Shane Wing, Napean commander of the Sapphire. There has been a great calamity—our Service officers and Napean population are deceased. We have five hundred human survivors. Please respond.”
The empty sound of space hissed thr
ough the speakers. Shane cranked the volume. Tiny crackles could be heard—interference of some kind.
“There’s something there…” said Shane. “That’s just us,” replied Alex. “Engine noise…”
They tried again—ships 18, 19, 20—finding no sign of life. The mood on the Sapphire sank to a new low.
The ship was maneuvered sideways, forwards, around, and through the remaining vessels, which were set in an orbital arc around the planet.
Shane increased the speaker volume, magnifying the hiss until the sound resonated through every cavity of the ship. Their ears were straining and catching on every little crackle and tick.
Ship 21, 22, 23.
Again Shane made the same announcement: “This is Shane Wing, Napean…”
He was cut off by a male voice that came hammering through the speakers like a machine gun, a barrage of nasally language, incomprehensible to anyone on board. Despite this, the ship erupted in cries and cheers. It was the first “foreign” voice they had heard since leaving Earth four years ago.
“What language is that? Vientan?” asked Alex. “Japanese?” answered Shane.
“Cut in and ask if anyone speaks Contro.”
Shane spoke again. There was a break. Then a sweet voice filled the ship as they were greeted by someone announcing herself as Kumi Subasa. She spoke to them in their language from a ship called the Shonen Blade.
“Welcome to Sirius,” she said. “Am I speaking to Jeffery, Pato, or Magellan?” she asked. A low static hiss filled the air and a chill passed through the people on the Star Sapphire at the mentioning of those names. No one made eye contact. Each waited in private apprehension.
Alex had both hands up to her face and was peering out at Shane from between her fingers. He stared upward, and then downward, and then at Alex.
“You are speaking to Napean Captain Shane Wing. How long have you been waiting?”
“We have been in orbit for fifteen hundred hours. Where is your commander?” The
beautiful sweet voice of Kumi Subasa now carried a certain threat.
“There was a disaster in the Eridani void,” said Shane, “with Nano Enzyme Therapy… I’m the only Napean survivor on this ship.”
Again the delay.
“You have sub population of five hundred. How many survive?”
“Five hundred,” replied Shane.
“We send command module to help your ship. Prepare for boarding.”
The Sapphire erupted in noise. For a moment, Shane and Alex were speechless as they tried to comprehend the implications in the mad rush of panic. People pushed forward, yelling, gesticulating.
“No, no, no,” Alex murmured quietly. Then, more loudly: “This isn’t happening…” Then finally she yelled: “Stop! Everybody calm down!” The noise subsided. Shane looked at Alex and said. “If they know Jeffery, they’ll know who you are…”
“… And you,” she replied. “Let them know. We don’t want them.”
Shane waved everyone quiet and again announced himself on the radio, saying:
“A potentially volatile situation has been avoided on our ship, but please, do not attempt to board the Star Sapphire. Lofty Mountain Napea and the real people of that area have joined forces.”
Hundreds of individual voices on the Sapphire main deck muttered an agreement, culminating in one organic sound of assent. Alex looked around at the crowd assembled; their faces were pensive but intent. There was no response from the Japanese. Then a few seconds later came the voice—Kumi Subasa, in a measured but inappropriately bright tone: “Please use ETP.”
Agitation rippled through the group.
“Don’t do that,” said Alex. “Let’s start out the way we mean to continue.”
“How many other survivors are in orbit with us?” asked Shane, ignoring Kumi’s request for privacy. She responded. “We were the first to arrive—we had no problem,” said Kumi. “But all ships to follow have shown no sign of life—until you.”
Everyone looked out through the windows trying to identify the Shonen Blade. They lay hidden from the white light of Sirius by the shadow of Remus. They looked through the blackness past a number of other dead ships, some egg-shaped, several cylindrical, most completely dark except for dim external lights. Several ships were still faintly lit inside from what appeared to be the control room. Despite the huge loss of life it seemed the entire fleet had arrived on autopilot.
A murmur went round the Sapphire: “There it is. There it is.” Diamond-shaped, but flat in the middle at both top and bottom—the Shonen Blade was appeared closer to them now, moving eerily through the dead hulks. It stood out clearly, bright light emanating from its expansive windows. It was now about several hundred meters away. Many small, silhouetted figures could be seen standing at the windows looking toward them.
Shane spoke: “We wish to work together to continue plans for colonization of Remus but we seek to maintain our independence to make our own decisions.”
There was no reply.
The Shonen Blade loomed closer on the starboard side and Shane said: “Prepare to meet the relatives.”
THE END
About the Author
Digital Venous is Richard Gohl’s first novel. He lives in Adelaide, has written for film and stage, and is an English teacher.
