by Darrell Bain
They ran toward the ship. At the opening, Dan paused, holding Stacy back while he looked inside. He could see nothing but a short corridor that T-boned at another running at right angles across it in both directions. He took Stacy's hand with his left one, leaving his right hand free to pull his pistol if need be. They climbed inside and took several steps, then heard a soft swishing noise behind them. Dan turned to see what it was and found that the opening the opening had vanished, as if terminating contact with their former lives. The corridor brightened from a hidden source of light, but it revealed no sign an entrance had ever been present. He looked helplessly at Stacey. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. God knows what I've got us into."
She felt his hand trembling in her own and knew it was concern for her much more than fear of the unknown that was causing it. She moved closer to him, until their bodies were touching, then looked up at him. “It's all right, Dan. You didn't twist my arm. Anyhow, maybe we can still get out. Let's go back and see."
* * *
Chapter Six
“A hatchway opened briefly. The commander of the Foxfire quick reaction team says he saw two civilians enter, then the door closed behind them. Since then, there's been no activity at all and that was almost two hours ago,” the Brigadier said to General Bines.
“Has the State Department kept the foreign powers apprised of developments?"
“Ms. Jenson assures me she has. She's also raising hell with the president about the way the military has sealed off access."
“Some people don't use their common sense. If we hadn't sequestered the area, every person within a hundred miles would be right on top of the spaceship, banging on the outside and trying to saw off souvenirs.” Binds stopped abruptly, realizing he was straying from the problem he should be concentrating on. “Send word to the president and our commanders that we're canceling the stand down of ground travel except for an area ten miles around the ship, and that we're clearing civilians from the area as rapidly as possible. And you can tell Ms. Jenson we'll accept representatives from the State Department and the United Nations, but they'll have to be under command of the military for the immediate future. Maybe that'll satisfy her."
“Yes, sir. I'll get right on it."
To the major general he said “Maintain contact with China, Russia and the other nuclear powers. Inform them that they can send observers, contingent upon the president's confirmation. And make damn sure that orders forbidding flyovers of the site are broadcast as widely as possible. No aircraft within thirty miles of the spaceship. No exceptions."
“Yes sir."
“Fine. Stay on it. I need to use my private line for a moment. Don't disturb me unless something breaks.” He got up and stepped over to a tiny alcove reserved for his use when he needed to speak privately to others. He punched the president's number and was answered almost immediately. He began speaking bluntly, with no preliminary politeness. “Sir, I understand both Russia and China, as well as another of the smaller nuclear nations are threatening to bomb the spaceship site if we don't open it to them immediately. You need to tell them that's the last thing they want to think of doing. We'll allow them access, but never under threats. Warn them that should any of them decide to target the site, it will result in massive retaliation, without mercy. You should take care of this yourself, sir. Don't let Ms. Jenson try it. She's a fine person but her thought processes aren't the type to be convincing in military situations. They wouldn't believe her but they will you, especially if you let them know the military backs you completely."
There was a hesitancy in the president's voice when he answered. “Is that absolutely necessary, General? Suppose they take that as a threat of war and decide to strike first?"
“They won't. The only ones I'm really worried about are the middle-eastern nations where radicals control the government. You might suggest they can forget about ever seeing a greater Islamic confederation should they try anything. Tell them we won't leave a living thing above bedrock. They'll be gone and we'll still be around to oversee the decontamination."
“This is really playing hardball, General Binds. Congress may impeach me."
“Just don't let Congress get word of it, sir. I have to go now. You're doing well, Mr. President. Keep it up.” He hung up the phone, thinking wryly that things had come to a poor pass when the best president the American people could elect had to be encouraged by the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs in order to stiffen his spine. However, he thought, it could have been worse. His opponent might have won the election, and in that event, the State Department would be fouling up the whole operation, as well as bringing in the U.N. to further complicate matters. When he returned to the Situation Room, there was a blinking light on his console, with the code designating an open line to General Hawkins waiting for him.
He picked up the phone. “What is it, Chet?"
“Sir, we've got the specs on the owner of the place where the ship came down. It's a private ranch, five hundred acres, but inactive so far as stock is concerned. As a matter of fact, it belongs to friends of mine, Daniel Saddler and his wife, Stacy. They're good people and shouldn't cause us any grief."
“Be damned. Small world, isn't it? I'll let you talk to him if the damned thing ever opens up again. Any progress on the scans?"
“No, sir. We moved some mobile equipment in but we haven't learned much. High intensity radar doesn't penetrate and reflection analysis is still about the same as we got from space. It's made of an unknown type of material. We tried getting a bit of it from the body with a diamond cutter but it didn't work. I sure wish we had some of that stuff for our armor."
“Later, Chet. First things first.” General Binds thought for a moment, running various options over in his mind until he came to a conclusion. “Listen, Chet, I've changed my mind. Since you know the people there, I'm going to send you down to take command. Use one of our courier jets and get there fast. I'll cut your orders while you're on the way so there'll be no flak when you take over. When you arrive, please assure Colonel Morrison and General Cruz that I have full confidence in them, but that I want you in command because you know the folks there personally. Got it?'
“Yes, sir. I'm on my way."
“Good man,” Binds said, but he was talking to a dead extension by then.
* * * *
Inside the spaceship, the—the bulkhead, Dan supposed it was called—where the entrance had been was now a smooth expanse of the semi-metallic material the whole alien craft was apparently constructed from. There was no indication a doorway had ever been there. Dan went back and felt all around, trying to find a latch or switch that might open it, to no avail.
He grinned feebly at Stacey. “Looks like it wants us to stay awhile, hon. I don't know anything else to do now except go on and see what's inside.” Still holding hands, they proceeded to the passageway crossing the short aisle they had entered from. It was exactly the same light bluish color as every other part of the ship they had seen. As soon as they stepped into it, the cross passage brightened considerably, making them realize how dim it had been before.
“Now what?” Stacy asked as they both stopped.
Before Dan could answer, a cluster of thin red rays like laser beams emanated from the wall in front of them and began playing over their bodies, moving swiftly, noiselessly and as harmlessly as a flashlight beam. He gripped Stacy's hand, holding still. The process took less than a minute, then the red lights disappeared, their function obviously completed.
“It's like we were being measured for something,” Stacy said.
Dan shrugged. “Maybe so. At least it didn't seem to hurt us. Shall we go on?"
“Which way?"
A winking yellow light appeared on the wall in front of them, then moved slowly off to the left. A few feet down the passage it stopped, but continued blinking.
“I guess we go the way they want us to,” he said, taking a step to the left. The light moved in tandem. “That's peculiar, though. How do they know what a
moving light means to us?"
“What do you mean? Oh—I see. They haven't communicated at all, yet they already know at least one symbol we're likely to understand."
As they began walking, very slowly, Dan mused. “We keep saying ‘they', but we may be talking about an ‘it'. We've certainly seen no indication yet that there's individuals aboard.” The passage they were in was only about thirty feet long, opening into an oval-shaped room about as big as their den, with a ceiling no more than three feet above their heads. The room had what appeared to be a blank screen that looked as if its height was designed for humans when seated. It formed an arc around half the room. In the center of the arc were two seats, one slightly smaller than the other. The blinking light split into two parts and each moved until it came to rest on the screen in front of the chairs. A horizontal surface extended forward from the blank and was designed so that a person seated in the padded chairs could work comfortably on it, as if it were a desk. The material gave very slightly when Dan touched and pressed down and it, too, followed the arc of the screen, as if more seats could be added if needed.
Stacy looked inquiringly at Dan. “Shall we sit down? It's rather obviously what's intended."
“May as well. I just hope the ship doesn't decide to take off and expect us to pilot it!"
Stacey laughed but it was mirthless, merely a sound to disguise her nervousness.
Once they were seated, the seats began moving beneath them. It was startling until they realized the accommodations were simply adjusting to their bodily contours, making them very comfortable indeed. After that, nothing happened for a moment. Dan was beginning to wonder, then he felt his left hand and forearm tingling. “I feel something in my left arm,” he said.
Stacy turned toward him. “That's curious. I feel a tingling, sort of, in my right arm.” She had a sudden inspiration. “We were holding hands when we came inside. Do you think it might be wanting us to do the same thing here?"
Dan moved his hand toward hers. As soon as they were clasped together, fingers entwined, the tingling stopped. “Good thought, sweetheart. I guess that's what it wanted. But why? I don't know about you, but I'm—"
A section of the screen in front of them lit up. It had depth to it now, a formless vista that nevertheless drew their attention, as if they were looking at the first hint of a holographic image. The screen appeared to widen and deepen even more as they watched, drawing them into it while they sat helpless, unable to resist.
Dan felt his mind swirling, meshing with tiny pinpoints of light that appeared, flickered and grew into brighter orbs that surrounded him, engulfing him and Stacy together in their glowing radiance. There was nothing he could do to resist and indeed, the sensation was so pleasant that he had no inclination to do so. Stacy's presence remained with him even as his body seemed to dissolve in the lights. Together, their minds meshed with the essence of the starship and were held in its grasp for what seemed like hours, then days and months, until finally all concept of time was lost. There were only the two of them and the ship, growing together in a triple bond, allowing them to understand and be understood through the medium of sight. There was nothing unpleasant about the process; instead it was soothing, like a constant flow of warm water over the body, only here the feeling encompassed their mental processes as well. Still holding hands, Dan felt himself and Stacy drifting into unconsciousness. He wondered briefly why the ship was doing this to them and how it managed to hold them so tightly in its grip simply from their staring into a screen, then a darkness enfolded his mind.
* * * *
While the Army and Air Force might be able to keep the public away from the spaceship, there was no hiding from satellites passing overhead. The optics built into the orbiting spies, both military and civilian, could look down and view objects in such fine detail as to almost read newsprint if such a feat was necessary. The satellites had no problem at all in finding and describing the concentration of troops encircling the area and helicopters landing and taking off, disgorging more troops as time passed. Both people and machines were easily visible when seen by infrared light. Nor were the roadblocks present at every intersection and highway leading into the area hard to spot. All this was faithfully reported despite government requests for discretion.
It would have done little good even if the American media had complied with the appeals; foreign outlets were all too ready to report events as they happened, especially when daylight approached and more detail could be seen.
General Hawkins’ jet landed at a small private airport near the Saddler place. A helicopter was waiting for him there and took off almost immediately. It set down a few minutes later at an improvised landing pad in a clearing near the blacktop road fronting the former ranch. A driver was waiting for him there and he was ferried on to where the spaceship had landed.
As he got out of the car, the size of the alien craft became apparent. It was huge, longer than four, perhaps five football fields, bigger by half than an aircraft carrier. It towered over him like a small mountain, dwarfing the house and its environs. He was so engaged in observing the ship that he almost missed the salute from the Army colonel who was waiting for him nearby. “Sorry,” he apologized as he returned the gesture. “That thing is rather intimidating up close, isn't it?"
“Yes, sir, it is until you get used to it—and I'm not sure of my reaction yet. “I'm Colonel Morrison. I understand General Binds placed you in command of the forces here."
“Yes, but General Binds asked me to convey his appreciation for the good job you've done here, and the general providing the logistics support as well. My being put in command is simply the result of special circumstances. This land the spaceship is sitting on is owned by friends of mine."
“Yes, sir. There's no one in the house, so we assumed the two civilians who entered the ship must have been the owners."
“Almost certainly. They don't have children, and so far as I know weren't having visitors at the time. No word from inside the ship yet, I take it?"
“No, sir. Not a thing. If you'll come with me, sir, we've set up a temporary command center out near the barn."
Hawkins followed along, wondering what Dan would think when he came out of the ship and saw that the Army had taken over his place, although so far they had left the house alone. He suspected the Saddlers wouldn't be pleased and he resolved to see what he could do about it as soon as they returned from inside the ship—if they ever did. For one thing, he doubted he needed so many armed troops so near.
As soon as they got to the tent housing the command center, he asked for a plat of the Saddler property. No one had thought of getting one and he gave orders to find the deed and description immediately, even if it did mean routing the county clerk out of bed on a presidentially-decreed holiday He suspected, though, that everyone in a hundred-mile radius was probably already awake.
“Colonel Morrison, what I want to do is throw a cordon around the Saddler's property, all five hundred acres of it. Otherwise, we're going to have reporters and curiosity seekers coming in through the woods and across the fields. Call for more troops if you think we'll need them. I suspect you will."
General Hawkins began looking through the roster of personnel that had arrived so far and saw immediately that they were far short of the many specialists he knew would be necessary in days to come. He began handing out assignments, asking for the top physicists, biologists, linguists, semanticists, psychologists and every other scientific specialty he could think of that might be useful. Only then did he begin to think of what he could do about the foreign state departments and religious leaders of the world who would be demanding access. He knew most of the decisions would be made at a higher level, but perhaps once he talked to Dan and Stacy he could offer some input.
* * *
Chapter Seven
Dan blinked as he came back to reality. His first coherent thought was of Stacy. He turned and saw her eyes open and blink, just as his had. She looked confused,
like she couldn't decide when or where she was.
“Stacy? Honey? Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse and his mouth dry, as if he had gone without water for a long while. When she didn't answer he felt a spurt of panic. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “Stacey?"
“I'm okay, I think,” She said. She wiped her eyes with her fingers then glanced at her watch. “My gosh, Dan, we've been sitting here for hours! No wonder I'm stiff and sore."
He saw by his own watch that she was right and realized he felt the same way, as if his whole body had been in a contorted position and had stayed that way overnight. It was nearly seven in the morning—assuming no more than eight or nine hours had passed—it could be evening for all he knew. He stood up somewhat unsteadily, then held out his hand to Stacy to help her, knowing that if she felt like he did, she needed an assist.
“What happened to us?” Stacy asked him after she finally got to her feet, using his shoulder to steady herself.
He started to answer then saw by her expression that no explanation was needed. Data from the ship was flooding through his mind, volumes and stacks of information in a seemingly endless quantity. He knew now what had happened while they were unconscious—the ship had imparted its whole working system into their brains and now he and Stacy were busily integrating it into their waking minds. There was no way to resist acknowledging the flood of data that had settled into synapses and neurons while asleep. It was now a permanent part of their minds. Within a few moments he began to understand the full implications of what had happened. Fantastic as it might be, he and Stacy had been placed in complete command of the alien spacecraft, which they now knew was uninhabited by any living being. They were the only two persons aboard.
Dan started to say something and again felt the hoarseness in his throat. He thought of how much he wanted a drink, and immediately, he knew the whereabouts of a fountain. Stacey was apparently having the same thought, for she followed him to a small alcove that opened out into a little lounge of sorts. He even knew where the glasses were and as he got two of them out, he wondered how the ship had known how humans would take liquid nourishment. Just as before, the knowledge was there. The ship's immensely versatile computer had explored their minds in detail over the hours, then began implementing changes in the ship to accommodate their species before they woke. He examined the glass. It was perfectly normal in appearance. He filled it from a faucet and sipped. It tasted like water, cold and refreshing. “It's good,” he said, but Stacy was already ahead of him, drinking the water down in thirsty gulps.
