by Scott Rhine
She was expert enough that she could peek under the tiles without difficulty. The fifth tile she checked, near the pergola, concealed a gold circle, half a meter across. Placing the deactivated plank on her back, Yuki rolled her fingers like a safecracker. This was going to make her rich, a hero in the extended family. When she triple-tapped the seal, water shot out like a fire hydrant, first soaking her and then knocking her off the roof. Evidently, sticky fabric didn’t work in water. Hoorah, I was the first genius to figure that out.
If she hadn’t remembered the plank strapped to her back, she might have died the way Mercy warned. Instinctively, she grabbed the activation dot on her board and squeezed. The vibration through her spine soothed her like a flannel blanket did her niece. She froze in the ship’s orbit three meters from the nearest railing. Water was still gushing out, soaking the front entrance and dribbling through the cracks.
She had to fix this before anyone came to investigate. Unwinding every scrap of fabric from her elbows and knees, she managed to cobble together about four meters of new tether. Since her headset was the only available weight, she tied it onto the end of the lasso. Then she played cowgirl for several minutes before she established a sufficient anchor. Praying to her ancestors, she turned off her plank and fell. Even with low gravity, the impact hurt, but she splayed herself wide to stick. Her left side rebounded because the clear windows wouldn’t adhere to the fabric. However, her right side absorbed the strain with only a little twisting.
As she climbed, Yuki could hear Mercy’s voice through the headset strapped to the rail. Moving as fast as possible, she regained the main deck. A shift in the wind sprayed her with more water. Cursing, she crawled up Mercy’s stairs and tapped the spigot shut. On the way down, she slipped in a puddle, only to be saved by the ‘unnecessary’ railing.
As Yuki staggered into the control room, blowing hair out of her face, Mercy was launching herself out of the shower area in a panic. Yuki untied the end of her dragging tether and put the headset back on. “Sorry,” she said. “I was on my way back to dry off.”
“Are you okay?” Mercy demanded, taking Yuki’s arm to help support and prevent float-off.
“Yes. But be careful: keep the fabric out of the shower area. If it gets wet, it’s useless. That’s why the aliens kept them at the entrance.”
“What happened?”
“I found the garden hose. Or maybe it’s for emergency refills.”
“Tell Rachael; she’s the expert on that.”
Her breathing still ragged from the adventure, Yuki said to her newest friend, “If I ever complain about your being too overprotective again, tell me I’m all wet. Use those words.”
“Let’s get you dried off again, and then you can brief the others.”
“Yeah, that works,” Yuki said, limping a little on her right ankle. She’d need to wrap the ankle with the cling fabric like a compression bandage.
****
Yuki escorted the first wave of people to the control room and showed them the ropes—or fabrics, in this case. She demonstrated tapping a second window so more unfiltered light poured in.
As she recited everything she and the engineer had discovered, Auckland said, “You’re the best tour guide I’ve ever had.”
Rachael was the most vocal in her appreciation of the ship. “Take out 100 hectares for windows, 100 for engines, and maybe half for water storage.”
“Mercy said it’s only five-twelfths.”
“We still have enough to sustain sixty people indefinitely at our tech level.”
“How many people could the command saucer support?” asked Yuki.
The life-support specialist shrugged. “With perfect filtration and reclamation of evaporation, between five and ten people for . . . twenty years. But we’d have to keep the big exit hatch sealed and find a source of food. Why is water dripping from the top of the door?”
Yuki smiled and explained, “I accidentally discovered a faucet while extending the top deck.”
“Mop up what you can,” Rachael encouraged everyone. “Take it down to the showers for recycling.”
“Remember, don’t get the sticky straps wet!” Yuki called out.
The men used T-shirts to absorb the vital liquid from patio planks.
Yuki enjoyed the display of man-flesh. For scientists, a couple of them were ripped.
The life-support expert glowered both at the waste of water and the ogling of a married friend. Yuki thought, Funny, you didn’t complain when everyone stared at me stripped down.
Aloud, Yuki said, “Keep one of these boards on your back whenever you step outside.” She showed the others how to activate an anchor board in an emergency. As she went back for the next group, Zeiss played with the planks like a kid with Tinkertoys.
Once Red emerged, Mercy led the pilot to her husband immediately. On the way through, Mercy asked, “Why is that light flashing?”
“What light?” several other people asked. Mercy pointed to a panel by the outer door.
“I think we found our remote control for the hover planks,” Yuki said. “If only we had a marker to label it. Too bad we can’t get into storage.”
Auckland said, “Maybe the passage to the decontamination room was open, and both doors can’t be open at once. Aliens are really worried about viruses contaminating things. Let’s close the outside door and try again.”
Yuki herded everyone, and Mercy tapped the final door—nothing. “What does the Wizard of Oz say?” asked Yuki.
Red blinked. “Sensei isn’t answering on this side.”
Zeiss whispered, “Maybe you’re the key for this door, too.” He was staring at the bare ankle his wife, Red, had wrapped with sticky strap. The faintest edge of a tattoo peeked above the strip.
Stepping to the front of the crowd, Red tapped open the locked room and gasped when it opened.
All their cargo had been dumped into heaps by an anal-retentive hurricane. The crates themselves had been disassembled and stacked neatly in a corner. All clothes were in one pile, while seeds were heaped by type. Nothing was in the original container, with the possible exception of meal packets, medicine, and toothpaste that had been hermetically sealed.
“Is everything here?” Mercy asked.
Rachael shook her head. “It’ll take days to catalogue everything, but the guns and explosives are missing for certain.”
“Confiscated for our safety or Sensei’s?” asked Yuki.
Red shook her head. “This is new territory for me. Maybe Sojiro can help—he’s the expert on alien interfaces. Perhaps Sensei is waiting for everyone to arrive. Either way, now would be a good time to put on some clothes.”
Everyone dressed again and reassembled the crates. Mercy’s black sports tank top clung a little too much like a swimsuit, so she put on her favorite lab coat to cover up.
Cargo was sorted into bedrooms: agriculture, construction, occupational equipment, space gear, and personal. Red labeled each portal with white first-aid tape. The only dispute was when Mercy suggested the ‘p’ and ‘s’ rooms be switched to make the order alphabetical.
“No time,” Red countered. “We have to empty the storage area before the outside door can be unlocked again.”
Mercy grumbled and returned to shower duty. Everyone agreed that, with three younger siblings, she had the best bedside manner.
Yuki repeated her spiel with the next group as Pratibha recorded her on the high-speed digital camera with solar-recharge capabilities. She would be immortalized when they returned.
****
After everyone was through decontamination, they held a brief ceremony, dumping founder Elias Fortune’s ashes over the balcony. The man had been like a grandfather to Red, and he had dreamed of visiting the artifact. Unfortunately, the neurological degradation caused by the pages had acted faster than bureaucracy. “In spite of ourselves, our race made it,” Red announced. “I only wish Uncle Daniel could have seen this.”
Yuki took a photo from high a
bove with a prototype Mori camera. She captured the panorama and the panels, with crew members to provide scale. The time and date appeared in the lower left, and she added the caption, ‘Ceremony inside alien biosphere.’ Praying, she hit the send button. Ejecting the spent cartridge, she inserted another. At over a million dollars each, she only had a couple more photos.
Zeiss, who had recovered significantly during his playtime, pulled out a bottle of contraband Mountain Dew. “To Daniel Fortune.” He took a sip and passed it to Herk.
“For Crandall. I hope he survived,” said Herk who treated the swig like aged whiskey.
Yvette complained, “That drink has bromated vegetable oil; it’s awful for you. It can lead to schizophrenia in Actives.”
Yuki replied, “Take the stick out. This is a celebration.” She snatched the bottle from the security expert and swilled some down. It was warm, caustic, and made her cough. “Skoal.” She passed it to Red.
“For all our friends and loved ones who couldn’t be here anymore,” Red declared, sipping pensively.
Tears in her eyes, Yvette accepted the bottle next. “For Brazil, L1, and possibly moon base.” This toast triggered a renewed outburst from Risa.
“What are they talking about?” asked Mercy.
Most of the men in the group looked away, unwilling to revisit their own emotions on the subject.
“Sit down,” Yvette said. Gently, she told Mercy about the deaths, including her family. The woman who’d been so kind to everyone else was gripping a wall strap, shuddering. Her eyes were wide, but she couldn’t cry, no matter how many strangled sounds she made.
All Yuki could think was, Mori will use this tragedy to take charge. She felt horrible that her friend had lost so much. She vowed to protect the engineer from further losses and took over as Mercy’s shoulder to cry on.
The technician tried to motion Toby over, but he was clueless. He just whispered, “Good one about the stick, but you should’ve said broomstick.”
Once everyone made a toast and the ceremony ended, people wandered back inside. Mercy hadn’t moved from the collection of straps. Red asked, “Should we wait for her to recover?”
Zeiss whispered, “Honey, that’s going to take longer than it will for the missiles to arrive—for all of us. If we don’t move soon, the same thing is going to happen here.”
Yuki blanched at the bluntness but couldn’t refute the statement. “How long do you need?” she asked her new friend.
With a trembling hand, Mercy reached up and tapped the large door closed. “Nobody else dies today.”
“Amen,” whispered Risa, and several others seconded the motion.
After Zeiss gave her shoulder a squeeze of encouragement, Red announced, “Sensei, we’re ready.” There was no response.
When Sojiro suddenly slumped against a wall control, Mercy asked, “Is someone going to help him?”
Red replied. “He’s fine, sweetie. Sojiro’s probing the machinery mentally. It’s like Out-of-body travel but for computers.”
Without a word, the Japanese man rose, walked to another panel, and took another nap. He repeated this until he found a round depression on one of the wall panels—exactly the same diameter as the crystalline lens-control ball. When he snapped the orb into place, the golden outer door filled with words, “Welcome to the inversion fortress. We have taught you everything you need to know to operate this vehicle. If we were to give you this craft, where would you go?”
Zeiss nodded to Sojiro, who brought up the red-giant holographic map and indicated a planet with the highest human compatibility score known. “Here.”
“This is your final test,” the wall said. “Use our gifts to travel there and touch that planet’s surface. Do this, and you can enter the community of souls. Do you have any questions that do not appear in the preparations we instilled?”
“What preparations?” asked Zeiss. When he saw the next picture, he said, “We call those the pages.”
The word ‘preparations’ in the text melted and changed to ‘pages.’
Zeiss followed up with, “Where are the controls we need to plot the course?”
A picture of the giant snowflake in the middle of the control room appeared. Six figures were inserted like batteries, with their heads at the hub and feet facing outward. Three were male and three female. “Choose your planners with care. The rest can wait in the deep lands to ease their journey.”
“Why do they need ease?”
“The journey may be long by your standards. The control module will not hold you all.”
Yuki volunteered, “Rachael says half of us could stay here long-term if we can solve the food problem.”
The life-support expert nodded. “We can probably survive on powdered chow and scavenged biomass from the forest until we can harvest the crops we brought along.”
Zeiss nodded. “Sensei, how do we get to the deep lands?”
“Either land the control module on the mountain cradle, or employ the helix to reach the bog.”
Red probed for more clues. “Um . . . helix? Like DNA? Our skills?”
“Helix: beanstalk, ladder, ramp, or spiral.” A picture of DNA appeared on the wall and half the strand vanished. The helix led from the command center to the grass-covered ground of the biosphere. “The skills in the pages enable you to complete your task.”
“What—” Red began.
Yuki raised a hand. “Mercy figured that out while you were asleep. I’m sure she can do it.”
Zeiss nodded. He could assist Mercy if necessary, but the work would help the engineer avoid the pain she was facing.
“Why do we need to choose carefully?” Zeiss asked.
“You only get one destination with the fuel available. If you pass, we will teach you how to refuel.”
They tried to fish for more details about the test but met with repeated, “The skills in the pages enable you to complete your task.”
Zeiss sighed. “Any quick questions unrelated to the test?”
Red asked, “Will you show us what you really look like?
“No. That is not important.”
“Why hide yourself?”
“It leads to worship by and slavery of younger races. This is forbidden. All mentors must remain hidden.”
“How many mentors are there?”
“This will not help you to pass your test.”
“How many times have you visited Earth?”
“Until it is perfected.”
“Which is?” Red’s tone changed to irritation. She didn’t like Zen answers.
“We don’t tell species lest they compare or feel falsely inadequate or superior. The process can be repeated a hundred times or work with just one visit.”
Yvette interrupted with a more philosophical question. “Why are you doing this for us?”
“This mission is part of our next step from ones even higher up.”
“Why?”
The wall shifted with aurora borealis colors before answering, “Earth has transitioned from the egg stage to tadpoles, scudding across the pond of the galaxy.”
“Actives. And you’re the frog stage?”
“Even so.”
“What’s next? Frogs with wings?”
“You will know that adventure, too, when it is your time.”
“What if we can’t solve the problems?” Zeiss asked, nervously.
“Your descendents might. If they all perish, perhaps those you left behind on the planet may use their gifts to follow. When the last emissary dies or leaves, this gift will return to the giver.”
“What if . . . those we left behind set off thermonuclear weapons by the neck of the fortress?”
“This will be viewed as a rejection of our gift. Your species will be labeled hostile. No more mentors will be sent.”
“Will it breach the bubble?”
“This is answered by the pages we gave you.”
“Can we see what’s going on near the lens?” asked Sojiro.
/> “When the lens has been opened.”
Sojiro adjusted the crystal ball and the bubble in the center of the ceiling filled with a 3-D image of the dark side of the moon. Seraph was gone. They couldn’t see Crandall floating in space, so at least his body had been recovered.
Zeiss looked around. “Anyone else?”
“Can we ask the magic eight ball something if Red’s not around?” asked Yuki.
“Your test has begun. There will be no more questions until completion. We wish you success,” the wall said before blanking entirely.
“He’s essentially giving our race 114 hours to take our final exam,” Zeiss muttered. “Anyone else feel like this is the dream where you show up to your math test naked?”
Red smiled and whispered, “I like those dreams. Of course, you were my math teacher.”
Chapter 9 – Helix
Zeiss said, “Sojiro, check out the piloting interface.”
“I don’t have much energy left, boss.”
“Take your time and don’t overexert. You’ve done a fantastic job so far. Lou, you help him punch in the destination planet we chose. Out of the seventeen of us, we want as many people as possible on the ground to camp in the forest. My theory is that a campsite as far as possible from the neck and as deep underground as they can get will give them the best chance of survival if a nuke blows up the lens.”
“That would probably be under the mountain,” said Red.
He nodded. “You and I will run some numbers to see if that’s a viable shelter. First, we need to decide who stays up here to solve this puzzle.”
“Right. We get six planners. We’ll start with the obvious, the three of us for pilot and navigation. We’ll need Sojiro for interfaces. Then, Park is our best theoretical man for drive systems. Who else?”
Sojiro replied, “If Mercy can get the helix deployed, I say we pick her. She has an innate feel for alien design you can’t teach.”
Seeing the technician propping Mercy up, Red said, “We can pick Yuki as an alternate. She knows her way around the ship better than anyone and could monitor sensors for any movement from the anti-coalition forces.”