Far From The Sea We Know

by Frank M Sheldon

CHAPTER 50

  She didn’t like it. Chiffrey was standing almost at attention when she walked into the small media lab. Is this what they did when they gave you news of those lost in action? A few words and a folded flag? They had not said a word to each other since the Bluedrop had resurfaced, but it was he who had left the note on her cabin door. Wanted to meet and talk, and he also mentioned that there was news. “Much news.”

  When she came in, he made a point of making eye contact.

  “This is the deal,” he said. “I’ve already passed on some of this to your father.” He paused. “Listen. First, I’m sorry about Matthew, I really am. We all are. Every effort will be made—”

  “Just the news, please, though I’ll hold you to your promise, whether you meant it or not.”

  “Okay. After much effort, I have again convinced the powers that be that it is in their best interest to allow the Valentina and her crew to continue as the main instrument here. The Valentina is still functioning, after all, and is the only ship that seems to manage that within the circle.”

  “And?”

  “The deal is, we see if we can come up with something concrete about what we are dealing with here. They won’t second-guess us this time. Carte blanche.”

  “More like, they’re fishing, and we’re the bait again.”

  Chiffrey shook his head. “You fought me since the beginning to keep a hand in this mission. All of you did.”

  “Mission is your word, not mine.”

  “It’s a word I cannot dispense with. The way we’ve had to go about this is not ideal.”

  “Such as, you still haven’t told us everything!”

  “What, exactly, haven’t I told you?”

  “I don’t know, obviously.”

  “Well, there’s not much I can say to that. What I will say is that under normal circumstances, we do not involve civilians, but this situation is far from normal, and many more lives could be at stake than our own. I did give everyone a chance to opt out. More than once. You all were our best hope. Still are, in my opinion. The loss of Matthew is on my head, and I’d do anything to get him back.”

  He still didn’t look uncomfortable enough to satisfy her, but his veneer had taken a few nicks. “Chiffrey…”

  “I’m saying it because it’s true. Listen. What happened down there in the Bluedrop, the people I report to didn’t believe at first when I told them. But they believe in the disabling of all those ships, because they have the evidence.” He smiled. “And I just found out they got some more.”

  “Then why don’t you fill me in, instead of just dangling it in front of my nose.”

  “Okay. I just read a report about the prop shafts on the disabled ships from our first encounter. Came in half an hour ago. Says the metal on the shaft ends has been molecularly rearranged and recombined, perhaps with other elements from the surrounding seawater. It is now a thin but diamond-hard sheet. It is diamond, at least on the surface. This layer is extremely uniform, a perfect molecular structure. I mean literally, as far as they can tell, perfect. Highly reflective, as well, in a way that doesn’t make sense yet.”

  “How do you get diamond from a steel propeller shaft?” she asked.

  “I’m not a metallurgist, just parroting what I read. I’m good at sounding like I know what I’m talking about.”

  She let the attempt at a joke pass without notice.

  “Another thing,” he continued. “Even though the end of the prop shafts have been exposed to seawater for days, they’re not tarnished at all.”

  “And not even a theory on how this was done?”

  “No one’s venturing any. There simply isn’t any explanation, orthodox or otherwise. That’s the opinion of authorities on the subject at Sandia. These are good people, none better.”

  “Then why can’t they say more?”

  “They all agreed that a highly advanced mastery of material and energy is in evidence here, but the tracks are leading us well past what is known or even glimpsed in advanced physics. I don’t understand very much about what they have told me, but those prop shafts have them excited. And by the way, they finally found the props themselves.”

  “Dredged them up?”

  “No need for that. They turned up at the Pentagon.”

  “What?”

  “Staff found them this morning, all four neatly stacked—and these things weigh several tons each—in the dead geometrical center of the courtyard inside the Pentagon. Here’s a photo.”

  A few officers in uniform and civilians stood next to the propellers for scale. They all looked ill at ease. The propellers were perfectly arranged on top of one another, the blades aligned and gleaming in the sunlight like burnished gold.

  “They have serial numbers and they are either the same or exact duplicates,” Chiffrey said. “However, now they’re in mint condition. No dings or anything, just as if they were newly made. Better than when they were manufactured, the report says. Somewhat like the shafts, their surfaces have changed. Perfectly smooth and showing no sign of corrosion.”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “I had the same thought, believe it or not. Maybe a kind of peace offering? The Pentagon had them removed, of course.”

  “Why?”

  “Concern that it might be a Trojan horse. The chance that there might be something with some devious purpose that may not be discernible. Of course, me being me, I put a good face on it to the higher ups. I went with the line that their property had been returned to its rightful owner in a courteous manner. Kind of like if you offer a lady your hanky, she returns it cleaned and pressed.”

  She stared at him, incredulousness no doubt evident on her face.

  “Well, it used to be like that,” he said.

  “You tried to snow them?”

  “No, I was serious. I’m not the raging warrior you take me for.”

  He paused, scratched his ear, and looked out the porthole. The resigned look on his face left little doubt about how his line of reasoning had been received up the line. He cleared his throat and went on.

  “They didn’t quite see it my way. Point is, centers of power in the government and military—and a few other places—are starting to light up over this. Various departments of the United States government, up to the Joint Chiefs of Staff and all the various security and intelligence outfits. Even the White House. Can you imagine what it must have been like for them the last few weeks? Reading these reports that sound like Through the Looking Glass? Then I tell them a man has been spirited away from a submarine while under water. Impossible, they tell me, but then they get this calling card right on their door step, something they can just buzz over to and have a look see. This is not just off the map. There no longer is a map.”

  “At least they’re getting the message.”

  “But they won’t read it like you do. I work in that environment, as I’m sure you have all figured out. They call it ‘intelligence’ for a reason, but I doubt if there is a mind big enough in any of their think tanks to put this together. They are finding the facts intolerable. For the people who make the decisions to send personnel and ships, it’s now like standing under a streetlight and wondering if someone out in the dark has a bead on you. Someone with a finger on a trigger. If much more happens, they’ll feel compelled to act, and maybe in less than a perfect way.”

  “And now you’re going to tell me just how limited their options are.”

  “Well, it’s true, and I’m glad we’re so much in sync. Hey, just kidding. Anyway, the disbelief and denial that I’ve mentioned in the past is being replaced by demands for action, so give yourself another point. For a bonus, you can add that some perceive whatever’s down there as potentially a very tasty pie.”

  “What a shock.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you were at least partly right on that as well. Of course they want to know how this works. They want to be able to put a slice on their own plate. Until now, the pie’s been airing on the sill just like my Auntie Hazel’
s. Point is, we’ve been watching over it, waiting for it to cool down enough to touch without getting burned, but—”

  “No, the point is we didn’t wait.”

  “All right, we didn’t, but it may not have made any difference if we had. Meanwhile, some see what’s down there as a threat, while others see a pie or, more likely, both, and they’ll all be putting a fork in soon.”

  “It’s not a pie down there.” In spite of pounding his pie metaphor into mush, Chiffrey was at least telling it straight for once. Good, even if it made her feel worse, not better.

  “I’ve got us some hoop time on the court,” he said, switching metaphors. “We had best use it well. Either that, or we head for the locker room, and then only God knows what.”

  He paused and waited, but she had nothing to say.

  “One good thing about this latest news. Some hope there.”

  “For Matthew.”

  “Yes, and now you tell me why, as I’m sure you’re as sick of my jawing as I am.”

  “Hard to imagine that, but sure. If the propellers from the cruisers can be transported all that distance, then why not Matthew?”

  “Relaxing on a beach in Tahiti, for all we know.”

  The door rattled. Chiffrey had apparently set it to lock behind her when she came in. There was a knock. “It’s me, Becka. I need to talk to you.”

  “Who?”

  “Both of you. It’s about the tissue sample from the dome.”

  Chiffrey flipped the lock. Becka entered and wasted no time. She glanced at Penny and said. “We found it after you…retired yesterday. Just a small amount on one of the grappler prongs.”

  “How did you get that?” Penny said.

  “Not sure. The last thing I remember was the power fluctuating. I think maybe that the turbulence kicked up again and the prong gouged into some part of the dome. Or maybe something that came out of the opening we last saw.”

  “You saw something come out?”

  “No. The dome’s surface seemed hard so…well, just speculating. The material we found didn’t look like the outer surface. It’s soft tissue of some kind.”

  “How do you know it isn’t something else, then?”

  “From examining it. There is a clear cellular structure, and we’ve been able to identify some of the amino acids, but it has highly unusual characteristics.”

  “Such as?” Chiffrey asked.

  “Some of the amino acids we found are common. But there are others we can’t ID.”

  “You mean they’re special or you have never seen them before?”

  “It’s too early to tell. We don’t have a full lab here. The DNA tests will take longer.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes, and this is the money shot. Some of the tissue is still active. We had already noticed some long strands of bacteria interacting in what seemed to be some kind of symbiotic relationship. That’s not unprecedented, but the ways they are interacting seem complex beyond anything I’ve ever come across. For instance—”

  “Can you just give us the gist? Chiffrey asked.

  “Not really, but here’s what you need to know. The complexity of the cell structures is astonishing. I’ve never seen anything remotely like it. Comparing it to, say, the cells in your muscle tissues would be like comparing a Stradivarius to a kazoo. But there’s more. We witnessed mitosis and the cells were dividing into three!

  “Biology was not my best subject,” Chiffrey said, “but as I recall, it’s usually two. Right?

  “Yes, two, then four, then eight and so on. Cells always divide that way. Always. What we saw has no analogue on earth. Not possible, but I saw it with my own eyes. Cell division is exponential, but this is exponential to the next degree, like cubed compared to squared.”

  “Meaning, much faster than normal.”

  “Exactly. Listen, I’ve got to get back.”

  “Yes, go. And great work, by the way.”

  Becka nodded and left. Chiffrey looked much happier. “Feels like we are getting somewhere.”

  “Does it?” she said.

  “Are we ready to say, for instance, that this is evidence of alien life? I mean not terrestrial. I know, this sounds like some ridiculous tabloid fodder, but in conjunction with the Honey Pot video, which I now believe was the landing, what other conclusion can we come to? Alien life form. It fits.”

  “If you were really listening, you would have heard Becka say she also found signs clearly pointing to terrestrial origin. The common amino acids. Perhaps it could be a mutation. Yes, an astonishing one, but that is easier to accept than some creature from outer space. You can’t make the leap to extraterrestrial just based on this.”

  “I’m not just leaping. Have some more intel for you. Sorry, but you can’t say I’m holding anything back now.”

  “Merely taking your sweet time doling it out.”

  “Heaps of data analysis went into this, on the fastest mainframes we could find. And I just got this an hour ago. Going back to when our original problem occurred, the massive interference with our over-the-horizon radar and so on, first thing we did was to check satellite data. Unfortunately, none of ours was pointing in that particular direction. However, after looking at the Honey Pot video a few hundred times, some of my people realized that maybe some other satellite might have caught something. Sure enough, one used exclusively to collect data on solar radiation nailed it. It took some heavy number crunching, but we’ve determined that something entered the atmosphere at the same time as our event. The data indicate that its trajectory changed at least twice.”

  “Not a meteor.”

  “Or falling space junk. Couldn’t be, and it was heading for a touchdown right about where we are at present. Where the dome is. The timing matches up nicely. I’d say we have several smoking guns and they are all pointing the same way. Even though the inference is incredible, it is now becoming almost the only conclusion. This thing came down from space, origin unknown. All indications are that it is intelligently directed and takes action specifically to remain undetectable. It seems to me, and accounting for what happened to Matthew on the Eva Shay, that whoever—or whatever—is in the dome is somehow using whales for some kind of operation. Reconnaissance at the very least. The military uses dolphins and sea lions as sentries, so that is not such a stretch. However, the lead whale had qualities to suggest that it was more than an ordinary gray whale. Again, we breed animals to purpose. Our own biotechnology points to the possibility of one day having the capability of altering life in almost any manner. So. Incredible, yes, but I say, possible. The vertices are starting to match the angles.”

  “Still,” she said, “none of what you’re saying speaks to why they would come here.

  “Exactly, and by far the most important question. Their intent. I’m not going to say they are clearly hostile, but yes, what are their aims? Where does this go? Which means, for us, what now?”

  “Okay,” she said. “Your theory would explain a lot. One thing I want to make clear. Anything we do next should also tie into getting Matthew back—”

  “Absolutely, and with no reservations,” Chiffrey said. “As much as we can, of course.”

  “Stop hedging. It needs to be unconditional, and for good reason. For you as well as Matthew.” She got up and took a few steps toward him. “Matthew is the key, as you’ve thought all along, but you still don’t know how or why. If we focus on him, we have the best shot of finding out what is really going on. I believe Matthew is in the dome. Not on some beach in Tahiti. I suggest we continue on that assumption.”

  “The dome probably is his most likely location,” he said without hesitation. “Especially now that we know it is most likely a vessel of some kind. We also need to make sure that anything we do, as you have so wisely counseled in the past, does not make the situation worse.”

  “Yes, I said that, but we can never be sure we won’t make a mistake.”

  In a low voice, almost as a throwaway, Chiffrey said, “W
ell, that’s what we thought before, and look what happened.”

  “That’s not a chain you can yank!” She hated to lose her temper, but there was no holding back now. “We can’t just keep saying, ‘but we don’t know, we don’t know.’ Of course we don’t, and we are wasting time and energy trying to figure it out. We’re never going to figure it out. Don’t you get that?”

  “You’re contradicting yourself. ‘But we don’t know’ used to be your line.”

  “And nothing’s changed, and that’s not the point anymore. We’re like ants walking across a computer’s keyboard and thinking it’s about the crumbs we find in the cracks.”

  “We don’t know what we don’t know. Sure, part of standard risk assessment.”

  “And here’s the good news to give your people who are worried about going up against it. Just relax. If the dome is studying us, our endless bumbling around will eventually bore it to death!”

  Chiffrey burst out laughing. “And, damn, don’t I know it…I mean, if you think I’m bad…” His laughing grew uncontrollably, and he couldn’t stop. What was worse, she started laughing. She stood facing him, tears rolling down her cheeks, laughing out loud for the first time in many days.

  They had been going on at least two minutes, trying to speak, failing, when they both suddenly stopped. In spite of having always cast him as a complete ass, maybe he was more like an exotic species she hadn’t yet found a place for in her scheme of things.

  “Okay then,” Chiffrey said, “I’ll start again. I agree, we are not in control here and are still largely in the dark, yet we need to act. But I am not going to pass this assessment up the chain.”

  “Because you don’t want to give the impression we’re in over our heads.”

  He nodded. “We don’t want to fly that flag, or they’ll just send in their own clowns. So again, given all that, what have you got? Something, I hope. Or, like some folks here, are we supposed to just heave everything we know over the side and stare at the moon till wisdom comes?”

  “No,” she said. “I don’t have anything specific yet, but I will.”

  “That’s not really helpful.”

  “I know, but trust me, as you have asked me to trust you. I absolutely will, and soon.”

  “Okay. I owe you,” he said but could not help adding, “Sooner would be much, much better than later.”

  She took a breath, let it out, and made a point of keeping direct eye contact before speaking. “For now, we acknowledge that we will never put Humpty Dumpty together again, and move past what we thought we knew. We need to listen and see without editing. That is essential. Trying to put things that don’t fit in our old tattered boxes will be fatal. Coming to conclusions too soon could be fatal.”

  “I’m good with that.”

  “You may think this strange, coming from me,” she continued, “but we need to let our guard down. Open the gates.”

  “Just remember what I’ve been telling you,” he said. “The forces-that-be are standing by and ready. People upstairs are waking up and not liking the smell of the coffee. The new intel means they will begin to look at this as some kind of invasion. I sense a hammer coming down soon. We need to pull up some good news, and pronto. I don’t like to put it this way, but although getting Matthew back safely can be our first priority, it can’t be theirs.”

  “I know that,” she said, “and if that is intended to build a fire under us, we already got the message, long ago.”

  “I’m just saying how it is, so don’t stiff the messenger. And we will need to give them specifics soon.”

  “Well, I need some specifics, too. Those ships hanging on the west horizon, that we saw when we were near the edge of the circle earlier? What kind are they?”

  “Sub chasers.” Chiffrey said. “We do need to stay vigilant in case—”

  “They’ll just make it worse,” she said. “And you should know that by now.”

  Chiffrey put up his hands in submission. “The ships are only there as a contingency. They will only act if we—and that means you—are in danger, being attacked, requesting assistance. That is, if it becomes clear we are dealing with a hostile force.”

  “Did you ever stop to consider that the very presence of the sub chasers could be perceived as an attack? I think that’s what happened to your other ships.”

  “Excuse me,” he said, stretching up his arms. “Could use a little exercise. It’s odd. Even with fewer people onboard, the ship seems more cramped than ever.”

  “Because it’s harder to blend into the crowd. But don’t change the subject. It’s clear now that it doesn’t take much to elicit a response from whatever is down there.”

  “That’s a little too delicate a way to put it. If the disabling of warships doesn’t matter to you, what about taking Matthew? Who’s next? We have to face the fact that, for all we know, anyone could be taken from anywhere and at any time. Sure, let’s hope for the best, but we need to be ready for the worst. That’s my job, and if it all does come crashing down, you’ll cry for our help just like everyone does.” He shook his head. “Sorry, but that’s the way the world works.”

  “And in that same world, the point I am making is still completely valid.”

  “Yes, but it’s a hard sell for me to make. Maybe we already have the right balance. Those ships have not had any trouble lately, so we might conclude that our standoff distance is acceptable to whatever is in that craft down there.

  “You still don’t know it’s a ship.”

  “I won’t quibble, because we don’t need to settle that yet. The point now is that the Navy isn’t going to leave. They have to be ready. They won’t do anything unless clearly attacked, as I just told you. So far, no one has been physically harmed. Not even Matthew, as far as we know, despite his disappearance. Though as I told you, they don’t really believe me on that one.”

  “Then what do they think?”

  “That I must have missed something, that maybe you folks pulled one over on me. Well, can you blame them? After all, Matthew being spirited out of a sealed minisub, hundreds of meters below the surface of the sea? Matthew, someone they were intensely interested in, conveniently disappears? They don’t really buy it, I can’t blame them.”

  “What about the propellers in their courtyard?”

  “I know, but out of sight, out of mind.”

  “There must be someone you can reach who is not a complete moron.”

  He looked at her with eyelids drawn down. “Listen, they aren’t here. They’re getting everything from reports and satellite images and so on, which really don’t tell them enough. What I’m sending them must sound like the ravings of lunatic.”

  “They’re watching us?”

  “Of course. I had to tell Becka she would do well to scale back her, ah, sunbathing, in that out-of-the-way nook near the radar mast. The resolution on these things can pick out a flea on a hound.”

  “You are disgusting,” she said.

  “You’ll just have to bear me, as I am going somewhere with all of this.”

  “Couldn’t you just go there now?”

  “Okay, no preamble. Our assumption now is that we are being closely scrutinized, in ways that we don’t understand and, therefore, have no idea how to protect against. There may not even be any way.”

  “So, are they panicked?”

  “Not quite, but it will head in that direction if nothing else changes. And, of course, there is still a strong level of denial as you move up from where I am directly involved to the higher decision-making grids. My point is we have to continue on the basis that there is some directed purpose to everything that has happened so far and especially in Matthew’s abduction. We need a plan soon, and the best way to come up with one is by working together. I think it’s time we spoke to your father. But you need to first.”

  “You don’t get to say that.”

  He turned away from her and, shaking his head, ran his hand along the rim of the single porthole of the small l
ab. “Listen, if you want to blame someone, blame me. It’s the truth, after all. Go talk to him. Please.”