Even now, ten years later, John could still recall the last minutes of his team—the order they fell and their screams of agony. Half an hour after entering the ship, John was the last to fall. The flashes of light returned in the final stages of the spike. The persistent euphoria ended as suddenly as it began.
Despite expecting his imminent death, John maintained radio contact throughout his experience. The pain subsided, and the lights in his vision diminished. Being the only survivor, John discovered he was immune to the deadly effects of the spike.
While John’s mind remained moored to that fateful day, the rest of the world moved on. The military quickly developed a suit that gave perfect protection from the spike, and technology inspired by materials from the crashed ship made its way into everyday life.
John was sure nothing could ever convince him to return to Earth, but now, through no choice of his own, that was precisely where he was headed. GISEC had pulled him out of the platinum mine in the middle of his shift and threw him on their fastest shuttle back to Earth.
Only the military could make GISEC move this fast, John thought. They’ve finally decided to dissect me.
John was collected at the Indiana spaceport by Military Police and secreted away in a nearby government hangar. It had recently rained, and the smell of petrichor lingered when the MPs moved John from the black SUV to the unmarked hangar.
John lay on a cot and tried to sleep. He was secluded on a mezzanine to the side of the hangar floor while the MPs stood guard below. Sleep came in fits, and somewhere in between moments of wakefulness, a soldier in combat uniform pulled up a chair next to his cot.
The soldier’s face was in shadow, but John already knew who it was.
“I wish I could say it’s good to see you, Colonel,” John said.
Colonel Norman Hammer sat forward in his seat and brought his face into the light. “I’m sorry I had to bring you here like this, Mack. I wish there were some other way, but I had no choice.”
John bristled when Hammer called him Mack. He hadn’t been called that for almost ten years.
John lifted his head off the rough fabric of the cot. “It’s just John,” he said, then laid his head back down, wishing they had at least given him a pillow.
“Can you walk?” Hammer asked.
“Gravity is a bitch, but I can stand alright. It was my plan to die on Mars, you know.”
“Dying isn’t a plan. Dying is what happens when a plan fails.”
John was sure he’d heard those words before—or at least some combination of the same motivational bull.
“Why now?” John asked. “It’s been ten years. Why now?”
Hammer put his hand on a closed dossier that sat on the small table next to the cot.
John glanced at the dossier. “You turned it on, didn’t you?”
Hammer nodded and drummed his fingers. “They’ve come back,” he said. “I’m reinstating you. You’re to join an expeditionary force to find out what they want—why they’re here.”
“I already know what they want, Colonel. They want to know why their bird was shot down. But, why aren’t they talking to us?”
“That, we don’t know. And that’s what I need you to find out. This new alien ship is identical to the one that crashed. We’ve refitted one of our shuttles with a compatible airlock. Their docking port is open, and it seems we have an invitation.”
“We? I don’t remember asking to be a part of this.”
“You—” Hammer pointed at John. “—are still the only person who’s immune to the spike. You are our secret weapon.”
John scoffed. “Not much of a secret.”
“They—the aliens—don’t know you’re immune.”
“Why should that matter? How are the aliens supposed to know their technology hurts us?” John rocked himself into a sitting position and threw his legs over the edge of the cot. “I’m willing to bet they know as much about us as we know about them.”
Hammer got up and made his way to the stairs. “I don’t make bets, John. Try and get some sleep. You meet the doctor and our language expert tomorrow.”
“Tell me why I should come back.”
Hammer stopped on the first step down and looked back at John. “You want to know what’s in it for you? I’ll tell you. Honor, courage, and commitment. But more than that, you need this. You’re dying to know what’s up there. It’s your second chance at life.”
“Semper Fi, Colonel.”
“Semper Fi.”
***
John rubbed his right temple with his fore and middle fingers. He’d segregated himself from the Marines in the expeditionary force and had been half-listening to the conversation between the linguist, Dr. Elena Morales, and the physician, Dr. Charles Denning. John was just about to ask if either had any aspirin when Dr. Morales spoke to him.
“When was your tour?”
John stopped rubbing his temple. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’ve been preparing for this moment since the incident. We got our tour of the Medicine Hat ship a few days ago. We heard that Doctor Maxwell has been lucky enough to work at the crash site since day one. When was your tour?”
John sat further back in his chair. “It was a few years back,” he said. “Who is Doctor Maxwell?”
Just then, a woman stepped into the shuttle from the gangway. “That would be me,” she said and fell into the vacant seat next to John. “Virginia Maxwell. You must be McCormack.”
“John. Nice to meet you, Doctor.”
“It’s a pleasure, John. And my friends call me Ginny.”
“Sure, Ginny,” John said. “Have you met Colonel Hammer?”
Maxwell tilted her head closer to John and whispered, “He’s been my boss for the past ten years.”
Hammer’s voice thundered down the aisle. “Good of you to finally join us, Doctor Maxwell. Just once, I’d like you to be on time.”
Maxwell reached back for her harness and started buckling herself in without waiting for one of the technicians to help her. “You wouldn’t leave without me, would you?”
Hammer addressed the group. “I can’t stress enough how important this mission is. Remain focused and remember what you learned in the briefing. If you follow my lead and do what I say when I say, then I guarantee we’ll come out on top.”
“Begging your pardon, Colonel Hammer.” Dr. Morales pushed aside the technician who was helping her with her harness. “The president was very clear. Doctor Denning and I are the lead on this expedition. There can be no aggression from the military whatsoever. If it were my choice, you and your Marines wouldn’t be here at all.”
Hammer was quick to reply. “And there you have it, Doctor Morales. You never really had a choice, did you? None of us do. You have your job, and I have mine. If anything goes wrong…” Hammer didn’t finish his sentence, but his meaning was clear.
***
John swam out of his harness as soon as they achieved orbit. He twisted back around to face Dr. Maxwell. “Hang tight, Ginny. I’ll be back in a minute. I need to see our approach.”
John floated past the Marines and stopped himself just short of the pilot’s chair. “Is that it?” John asked, pointing to a small dot in the distance.
“That’s it,” the pilot replied. “I’ll need to turn us and do a few short burns to match its speed. You’ll lose sight of it for a minute.”
“Oh?”
“Not to worry.” The pilot kept his eyes trained on his instruments. “I see everything.”
The orbiting alien ship had a shine to it, unlike the one they found at the bottom of the Medicine Hat crater. The pilot made his turn and slowed to match the speed of the alien ship. A few light taps on the thrusters brought them alongside the shining vessel.
The black metal hull of the alien ship filled the starboard windows. When the pilot made his last turn to line them up, the hulking vessel filled their entire field of view. Small undulations on the hull like ophidian scales reflected gold a
nd amber sunlight back at the awestruck humans.
John raised an eyebrow. “There’s the docking port. You were right, Colonel. It does feel like they’re inviting us in.”
John was in the shuttle’s airlock and suited up before anyone else. When the three doctors finally locked their helmets in place and the airlock sealed behind the expeditionary team, the alien ship’s airlock opened to let them in. Hammer pressed his way in front of John and took the lead down the dimly-lit corridor.
“The command center of the ship is this way,” Hammer said. He deftly alighted on the deck plating and walked away from the group.
Dr. Morales pushed to the front when she saw Hammer walking away. “Whoa!” she exclaimed. “This ship has artificial gravity? How did you know? You’ve been up here already, haven’t you!”
“No need to shout, Morales,” replied Hammer. “Just step out into the corridor. You’ll float down to the deck.”
Morales and Denning grilled Dr. Maxwell about the possible technology behind a ship with artificial gravity. Maxwell deferred their questions while they followed Hammer through the maze of corridors. Somewhere near the center of the ship, Hammer stopped next to a blank console.
“It’s true,” Hammer said. “We have been up here already, but this is as far as we got. Every point of entry we passed has one of these panels. We haven’t had any luck getting through.”
Hammer touched the panel. The edge of the panel glowed, gently illuminating the corridor around the crew, but that was it. Nothing indicated a way to proceed—no language, no buttons, nothing.
“The atmosphere in here is Earth normal,” Hammer continued. “This is where you come in, John.”
“And what exactly is he going to do?” asked Morales.
“These panels must require direct physical contact,” Hammer replied. “The suits that protect us from the spike completely shield us from our environment.”
“And our environment is shielded from us,” said Denning, finishing the thought. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds like you’re suggesting John remove his glove to interact with this panel. Is he that expendable? He’ll certainly die after exposure, quite painfully I might add.”
John stepped up and put his hand on Denning’s shoulder. “Thanks for your concern, Doc,” he said, “but I’ll accept the risk.”
John removed his helmet and gloves. The air was crisp and oddly smelled of malt vinegar. John half-expected that whatever made him immune to the spike ten years ago had since worn off.
The euphoria that accompanied the spike hit instantly. Next came the flashing light over his vision. The effect of the euphoria together with the light sent John’s thoughts on a collision course—like dozens of pollinators all vying for the same wildflower. Denning’s muted voice was little more than the buzzing of an insect. John thought he heard Denning say, “It’s your life.”
The initial shockwaves from the spike subsided. When John nodded to the colonel and gave him the thumbs up, Colonel Hammer explained to Denning that John was the only survivor from the first expedition to the Medicine Hat crater.
Denning put his gloved hands on either side of John’s face. “How are you feeling?” he asked, pulling down on John’s cheeks with his thumbs.
“I feel fine, Doc. The spike has mostly passed, but it’s still there. It’s all true. I survived the spike—multiple times.”
“That’s enough chit-chat,” Hammer said. “Let’s open this door.”
John placed his fingertips on the panel. There was a moment of deflation among the crew when the panel remained blank. Slowly, the center of the panel lit up and cast its light on every surface and edge in the corridor. John pressed his hand flat against the panel, and the door slid open.
“Empty?” Dr. Maxwell approached the open doorway. “Where are they?”
“The whole ship is empty,” John replied. “They stayed away and sent the ship.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just know,” John said, shaking his head, “and no one is more disappointed than I am.”
“Disappointed?” Dr. Maxwell took a bold step into the vacant control room. “What’s to be disappointed about? This is a fine little mystery.”
Dr. Maxwell went further, and John followed closely behind her. The consoles that lined the walls of the room came to life as they progressed. The presence of a living being was bringing the instruments out of hibernation. Even the pilot’s chair at the center of the room turned toward John when he approached.
Maxwell smiled at John. “That’s as much of a greeting as we can expect. I think they want you to take a seat, but I’d like you to hold off—at least for a little bit.”
“Why is that?”
“None of the consoles in the control room of the crashed ship ever worked, even after I found a way to get the ship’s power plant operational.”
“You? You are responsible for bringing them back?”
“I think they would have come back regardless. I may have just accelerated their return. Anyway, I need a few minutes to look at these consoles. I want hi-res images. This may be our only opportunity to study a fully functional ship.”
“Whatever you want, Ginny. You’re the boss.”
Morales waved at John. She was standing next to a large panel that was illuminated but had no display showing. “Over here, John. Try to activate this panel.”
A 3D image of a starfield burst from the panel when John touched it. The field spun slowly until John reached up to touch one of the stars. The projection immediately reacted to his hand movement. The image sped up and focused on a point until it revealed a planet. It was Earth. John put his hand down, and the image stopped moving. He repeated the hand movement. The projection continued to focus until it only showed the alien ship and the expedition’s shuttle.
“That’s neat,” John said.
“That’s an understatement,” Morales said in awe.
“What do you think?” Hammer asked John. “Is this for navigation, or is it just a map?”
“Unclear, Colonel. Maybe the chair is for navigation.”
“Well, I suggest you take a seat and find out.”
“Really? You want me to just sit down? Shouldn’t Doctor Morales take a stab at deciphering some of these consoles?”
“There’s nothing to see here. We don’t understand their language.”
Morales confirmed it. “It’s true, John. It could take us years to decipher the alien language without some sort of primer—a Rosetta Stone.”
Two Marines helped remove the rest of the bulky protective suit, and John grudgingly sat in the chair. As the chair lifted off the floor, other instruments, tubes, and panels descended from the ceiling. The instruments were peripheral to the chair, and they closed in around John.
A helmet with a visor dropped down on John’s head. The inside of the visor was blank, and John could still see the light from the control room leaking in from below the bottom edge. John was about to tell Hammer that nothing was happening when his vision went dark. The sounds in the room died away to pure silence.
John called into the emptiness. “Hello? Hammer?”
John began to see outlines of things. He saw his hands at first, then the rest of his body and the pilot’s chair. Intense flashes of light burst across a virtual cyberscape, and a vortex of swirling vapors opened at John’s feet. John’s mind slipped across the horizon into the wormhole.
***
John stood in a brightly lit room by himself. There were active consoles reminiscent of the ones on the alien ship. Unfamiliar noises echoed from somewhere nearby. His first thought was “alien cubicle.” There was indeed a small partition, and it was not unlike a cubicle wall. On the other side of the partition was a sizable black console embedded in the wall of a corridor that stretched to the left and right.
John moved quietly and cautiously around the partition. The blank console acted as a mirror, and John froze in his tracks when he caught sight of his reflectio
n.
What he saw was not his own face.
John stumbled. He covered his eyes to escape the gaze of his alien reflection. His face almost felt like his own, so he opened his eyes and peeked through his fingers at the reflection. John saw a strange alien face that was not his own, but it reacted as if it were.
The eyes that were too big blinked in time with his blinks. The mouth that was too small hung open in disbelief just as his did. John felt his face again. The alien hands with three fingers and an extra-long thumb moved with the same motion as his hands.
John decided against reason that the reflection belonged to him just as the nearby noises stopped. John went in the direction he presumed the sounds had originated. He took a few steps, and the sounds resumed. They were coming from the next room.
John dared to enter. He stepped around the partition to find the source of the noise. There were two gray figures in long, white suits who turned to face John when he entered. One of them spoke to John. The speech was unintelligible, but it seemed the alien assumed John would understand what was being said.
John tried to respond, but the sounds that escaped his mouth were gibberish. The alien said something else and waited for a response. John tried to reply, but his effort was wasted. The sounds he made were different from his first attempt, but they were still meaningless.
The aliens became very interested. They approached John with their hands held up, ready to catch him if he should try to run—at least that was how John saw it when they backed him up against the wall.
The aliens forced John into a corner and scanned his eyes with an instrument. One of them did most of the talking while the other listened and stroked thin whiskers on its chin. The one who did most of the talking produced a vial. It released a luminescent vapor when the stopper was removed.
The alien demonstrated inhaling the fumes and held it close to John’s face. John had no choice. He took a sniff.
The alien cubicle world fell out of focus, and John woke up in the pilot’s chair on the alien ship. Dr. Maxwell stood in front of the chair, leaning forward with her hands on her knees.
The Expanding Universe 4: Space Adventure, Alien Contact, & Military Science Fiction (Science Fiction Anthology) Page 22
