Lokians 1: Beyond the End of the World

by Aaron Dennis

  Becker glanced at him. He was making sure she was watching. Those two didn’t always get along, but they knew how to follow orders, and they were friendly enough, for the most part, but had some personal issues.

  Clarice Becker was a gorgeous woman with a venomous personality. They secretly referred to her as the pit viper. Only Imes had been brave enough to call her that to her face. She broke his nose in reply, not that it stopped him. Samuel Imes, on the other hand, was another tech expert like Swain, only more of a jock. He was less experienced in the tech field than Swain, but he excelled in close quarters combat. He was also an expert at moving under cover, so he loved the twilight of Eon.

  After three sets of fifty squats, Imes dropped the pack and started to stretch his hamstrings. Again, he checked to make sure Becker was looking. She was trying not to. He eventually took a seat on the ground, propping his back against an empty crate. Becker sat on the crate behind him, facing away. Her long, dark, hair was neatly pulled back in a ponytail.

  “What do you think,” Imes asked, nonchalantly.

  “About?”

  “The mission, this place, what the future holds if we colonize,” Imes replied and shrugged to himself.

  “It’s whatever,” she answered, coldly.

  She secretly believed he was asking what she thought of his butt, which wasn’t bad. Imes let out a long and loud sigh. He turned to look over his shoulder at the ice princess. She was a voluptuous sight, but she was a bitch.

  “It kills you, doesn’t it? To open up just a little, you would die,” he yelled. “A smile would shatter that face like fine china.”

  “Probably,” she snipped. “Yes. It would kill me.”

  They glared at each other for a moment. Then, they both exploded into laughter. It was his physical prowess, which attracted Becker a few years ago, but it was her personality that eventually put him off. Regardless, there was history there, and both knew the other was still interested. They just didn’t work was all.

  The first night on Eon went off without a hitch. The following morning, for lack of a better term, came, and the crew and scientists rose from sleeping bags to check the readings. Mickelson and Nicholson gave their reports.

  “The soil samples are mainly composed of Iron and Carbon. Dating puts them at roughly three, billion years old. There was no radiation, but they do have an unusually high pH,” Mickelson explained.

  “They are highly magnetized and ionized, stunting any growth in their vicinity. The mystery is why? What could be deposited beneath the ground,” Nicholson added, inquisitively.

  He was a scrawny, tall man with short, blonde hair. Swain cocked an eye at him as an idea presented itself.

  “I read that when flying saucers land on Earth they can scorch the ground, and leave it magnetized, subduing any growth. It’s plausible that there isn’t anything beneath the soil, but that in fact, a circular ship landed at some point in time, leaving the ground in its current state,” Swain said, matter-of-factly.

  O’Hara looked at him. He searched his man’s face and body language for any sign that he was joking. He was not.

  “A saucer. A flying saucer landed,” O’Hara jeered.

  “Well…I’m saying I read that it was...look, I’m just saying that we made it here. It’s possible that other races found their way here, too.”

  “Well, ain’t that somethin’,” Martinez cut in. “I think Swain’s gone out of his God damned mind.”

  “I agree with Martinez,” O’Hara announced. “We can’t speculate. We’re here to get results. Most likely, there’s some sort of deposit beneath the soil. We’ll begin digging today. The first thing we do is pack up camp and move closer to the dig site. Since there’s no radiation we can camp right on top of it.” As an afterthought, O’Hara added, “Flying saucer.”

  They all chuckled, but Swain was a good sport. He frowned and shrugged in resignation. After that, they ate their breakfast, did their business, inventoried their supplies, packed up, and began the mile hike.

  “Why did we set up everything just to move? I mean, we knew we would move at some point, right,” Zakowski complained.

  “Cut the crap. Zak you’ll be fine,” Martinez answered.

  “We knew we’d move, but we didn’t know how soon, ya’ dumb ass,” Fitzpatrick said.

  “Had the tests not yielded great results we might have had to stay away until the dig site was cleansed,” Chadwick replied as he rubbed his short, red hair, which was matted to one side from sleep.

  They arrived at the dig site and re-established camp. Unable to use any sort of digging rover, or any of their test equipment due to the magnetism, they unpacked their shovels and dug away by hand. That time, Becker complained about grunt work, followed by Zakowski, who claimed he was getting blisters, and lastly, DeReaux said he hated sweating, unless it was between sheets. The captain told them to shut up and dig. The remainder of the day went by with little vulgarity, and by 19:00 hours, they found something.

  Chadwick, Levine, and Royce were dusting away the dirt from what looked like a metal deposit. They used spades first, to clear dirt away, but when the object appeared to have a geometric shape, they locked eyes, and ran to retrieve archeological brushes. Soon, they had a conical cylinder uncovered. Swain looked proud of his initial suggestion. He wasn’t quite right, but they had something.

  “It looks like a probe,” Chadwick commented.

  Swain went down to the item and kindly pushed the scientists aside, except Levine who was a mechanical engineer. They exchanged glances then looked at O’Hara. Levine was a nerdy, older woman. Her long, black hair was pulled back, and her bright, blue eyes were really just contacts. While none of them were tanned because they had never been under direct sunlight, she was especially pasty. O’Hara approached with a worried look on his face.

  “What,” he asked.

  “Well, Sir,” Swain began. “It’s not a probe. Not one of ours, anyway. I’ve reviewed all the designs extensively, even improved some of them. This is something else. I’d wager it’s a beacon of some sort.”

  O’Hara was pensive. “One of our beacons.”

  “No, Sir,” Swain replied. “Not one of our beacons. Let’s get this thing completely out of the ground. Levine and I can get a better understanding of what we have. We can’t bring it aboard the Phoenix like this, anyway; it could fricassee our systems.”

  Imes, Martinez and Chadwick helped. Within two hours the object was removed. It was unbelievably light. The men and women stood marveling at the shiny device. It was a conical pyramid, less than two feet high and six inches at the base. There were several, tiny panels along its structure, but no buttons, or screws, or any visible method of holding the smooth panels in place.

  “What is this,” Mickelson asked as he ran his dirty hands along the object.

  “We should take scrapings and run tests,” Nicholson suggested.

  “Swain? Levine? Your call,” O’Hara said as he looked them over.

  The two exchanged a glance and shrugged.

  “I say, yes,” she replied.

  “I second that,” Swain crowed.

  “Go for it, guys, but for God’s sake, be careful,” the captain answered.

  Mickelson and Nicholson took their scrapings before dragging their trunks away from the dig site. Zakowski, Becker, DeReaux, and Fitzpatrick accompanied the two. Swain, Levine, Chadwick, Nandesrikahl, Imes, and Royce stayed behind to see what knowledge there was to garner from the beacon. The rest of the crew took watch shifts.

  O’Hara figured it best to send Martinez to help Swain in case the beacon was really some kind of weapon. He then pondered whether or not to contact Admiral Lay. They had found something, but he didn’t know what yet, and there was little sense in bothering the admiral with half-assed assertions. Besides, he said to transmit once we have results, he thought. O’Hara decided to wait, if anxiously.

  Pacing about the camp, hearing everyone’s speculations, it took all his concentration to k
eep from jumping the gun. He kept rubbing his face, trying to stay calm and wait for conclusive results. He hadn’t shaved in a while, and it was itching. Thoughts of sleep crossed his mind; he was tired, but his mind ran rampant. Mickelson and Nicholson should have their results before long. Swain and the techies will have something, too.

  Requiring a little alone time, O’Hara found a large rock under a tree, sat against it, and closed his eyes. Essentially, he had succeeded at his mission, which was great news, and the only thing left to do was get the beacon aboard the Phoenix. If there was a way to do so safely, it was Swain’s and Levine’s job to figure it out. I mean, no way it’s alien tech, right? He fell asleep shortly after.

  O’Hara awoke to some sort of ruckus. Nicholson wasn’t able to contain himself. He and Chadwick, the two chemists, had found something, and the goofy man was in a knot. Mickelson was laughing, but was equally distraught.

  “Captain,” they exclaimed in unison. “We have results, Captain.”

  O’Hara rubbed his eyes. He had to pee.

  “What do we have?” he grumbled.

  Nicholson hopped in place, saying, “We have Element-115.”

  He said it like it meant something. “What is Element-115,” O’Hara asked.

  “Element-115 is the most stable element in the universe. We’ve tried extensively to create it synthetically since before we traveled from Earth and formed the colonies,” Nicholson explained.

  “Why create it,” O’Hara probed further.

  “It doesn’t occur naturally on Earth, or the Sol system for that matter, and we’ve never found any deposits. Whatever this beacon thing is...well...what it isn’t, is anything Human,” Nicholson choked.

  Holy crap. Swain was right then. Some other race came and left a beacon?

  “Let’s not make conjectures yet, let’s see what the others found and go from there,” O’Hara said while attempting to maintain his composure.

  He went off to do his business. By the time he returned, the entire camp was in an uproar. Apparently, feeling that a celebration was in order, Martinez produced the alcohol he had smuggled in his pack. The captain wanted to stop the party, but decided to let it go. He just wished his man had had better judgment.

  “Holy friggin’ crap! We came, we saw, we conquered! Fuckin’ Swain was right, man! We got genew-ine alien tech... Sir,” Martinez realized where he was and in whose company, quickly snapping to attention.

  His Puerto Rican heritage had caused him to have a full blown beard by then. O’Hara returned the salute and looked at Swain, who was also well on his way to having a beard.

  “Swain, what exactly do we know,” O’Hara demanded.

  “Well, Sir,” Swain began. “What we have is in fact a beacon. I was able to open it and disrupt its magnetic output. We’ve been waiting for your permission to begin testing internal components in order to learn what kind of signal it can broadcast. Also, if we can utilize our gear in the presence of the beacon then we should be able to get it aboard the Phoenix, and then get it to Presh for real tests.”

  “So, why is Martinez celebrating if we haven’t found anything yet,” O’Hara grumbled.

  “Nandesrikahl noticed some markings on the inside of the beacon, and he doesn’t recognize the language. Also, Nicholson’s findings prove it. There is no Element-115 anywhere we’ve ever been. Someone else made this, and put it here, and what appears to be a long time ago,” Swain responded.

  Nicholson interjected, “The soil samples begin showing ionization about four thousand years ago. This beacon has been here a long time, Sir.”

  “Acknowledged,” O’Hara whispered. The immensity of the findings seemed unreal. “Run all the tests you can from here. Once it’s determined that this thing is safe, we’ll pack up and get back to the Phoenix.”

  Tests resumed immediately. Swain and Levine dismantled the beacon while Royce took pictures as each piece was removed in order to reassemble it later. Royce was barely an adult with the mind of an ancient and well learned mathematician. He pulled the camera from one of the many pockets on his khaki vest and fired away.

  Everything was wrapped up by 13:00 hours, and the crew was ready to break down camp, and hike back to the ship. An overflowing sense of accomplishment had washed over them. Swain was possibly gushing more than anyone else. He had been right after all, sort of, about his aliens theory.

  They all arrived at the Phoenix in no time. Before boarding, they paused, Eon’s purple sky calling out to them one, last time. Then, they finally marched into the loading zone.

  The remaining soldiers greeted the crew upon entry. Day was exploding with excitement. No one aboard the Phoenix knew what had been discovered, but they were glad to receive everyone unharmed. Captain O’Hara asked the AMS to scan everyone for contaminants then instructed a scan of the items they had recovered from Eon. Everything came up roses, so the crew packed up for more tests.

  The techies went to the ship’s lab to file reports. The rest of the crew hit the showers or mess hall. Day was anxious to learn about what they found, but O’Hara was hesitant to leak any information until they had conclusive results. The first thing to do was file mission reports to Admiral Lay.

  “C’mon,” she begged and jogged in place. “Report later.”

  O’Hara smiled and said, “I’m captain now. I have to do this right.”

  They looked at each other for a second. She crinkled her round nose then tilted her head in resignation. Finally, she smiled and let him handle his work.

  After completing documentation back in crew quarters, O’Hara went to find her in the mess hall. He sat next to her and began relaying the story. When Zak and Marty joined in, showing vids and pics, they huddled around the table. She was absolutely riveted, and nearly burst out of her seat when O’Hara told her about the beacon.

  Chapter Three

  A day after the discovery of the beacon, things wound down. Admiral Lay received O’Hara’s mission reports, but the scientists continued running tests in order to double check all results. While the captain awaited new orders, he decided to give Phoenix Crew some free time on Eon.

  Day stood out of her chair and tugged at her gray skirt. She and Roberts smiled at O’Hara, thanking him for the R and R. He glanced at the two women then at everyone else. They seemed to be waiting for an extra order.

  “Go get ready, people. I already had Marty and Zak prep the perimeter. Have fun,” O’Hara said, trying to hide a smile.

  The soldiers joked and laughed about playing guard duty for the scientists and deckhands, but they were all pleased, psyched even, to get off the ship and go run around an actual, living, planet. Day asked if he was joining them.

  “There isn’t anything else to do,” he replied. “Once we’re finished testing the beacon here, we’ll go to Presh station, but for now….”

  “Yeah,” she looked at him, expectantly.

  “Nothing,” he smiled. “Yeah; you and Roberts head on out there. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

  They saluted one another. The captain watched them leave. He was the only one left on the bridge. Looking around the ascetic room, the monitors over which soldiers stood to pass out readings, the helm, the screen at the far wall; it all looked so small, cramped. After an exhalation, he marched out.

  Just outside the vessel, he heard Fitzpatrick warning DeReaux that one day biting asses was going to come back and bite him in the ass. He ignored her admonitions, and as it turned out his night went rather well; word was he bedded another beauty. Fitzpatrick didn’t mind one way or the other. She certainly liked him, but it was widely believed she also preferred the company of women.

  Eventually, O’Hara and Day ran into each other. A Quartermaster, Navigator Roberts, and Royce, who needed a break from the lab, joined them. The five crew mates walked around, breathing in the scents, taking in the sights, the sounds.

  “Wow… this feels so strange,” Roberts remarked.

  She was barely able to walk; with every couple of
steps she had to stop and gaze at golden trees, purplish hills, the brown clouds drifting overhead. Scaly-looking birds squawked, chubby, furless rodents chewed plants, and the wind swept over them.

  “It was an amazing experience the first time. It’s an amazing experience now,” Royce added.

  “Enjoy it while you can, people. Soon as results come in, we’ll have a lot of work to do,” O’Hara stated.

  “Don’t poopoo…Captain,” Day snickered.

  They were all in good spirits considering how hard it was to believe what was taking place. Eventually, Day and O’Hara found themselves walking toward the horizon, a wondrous tapestry of foliage silhouetted by the twin orbs of orange light. The others had gleaned the L.T. wanted a moment with the captain, and slowly wandered off.

  “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”

  “Always.”

  “Good, I can’t describe how amazing this is. I’m glad we got duty together,” Day commented, knowing full well O’Hara set it up that way.

  He smiled at her, taking in every nuance of her features; her smooth complexion, emerald eyes, her soft hair. He thought back to a previous time, and knew she was doing the same.

  “Been awhile since we had some action, huh,” he joked. She hit him in the arm and laughed. “No…I’m glad to be out here with you.”

  He peered into the purple sky above. The twin orbs were separating, indicating the pseudo-night was arriving, and thick shadows crept over the gray rocks in their vicinity. During the twilight months, the planet never saw real day or night, mostly, it was just what the term implied, a brightness equivalent to an overcast day on Earth followed by darkness reminiscent of early dawn.

  The two walked a little ways further, where they found a secluded place with small boulders on which to sit. O’Hara closed his eyes and rested his back against a stone. Day sidled up next to him. He held her close, letting the scent of her body transport him to a time prior to his promotion; a time when he wasn’t in charge of Phoenix Crew, much less his beloved.