by Bruce George
For the next eight days, they made their way out to the Kuiper belt. Mike wanted to see space, or more specifically, he wanted to see the solar system. Jo explained that the small transport had no windows. However, it had remarkable viewing screens, which could be set to display anything they wished to see. Jo had the shuttle screens display the view from their current location, but they were so far away from the planets there was no way he could appreciate them. So, Jo had the computer zoom in on Jupiter, and then Saturn, with its marvelous rings.
Mike was amazed at the ability of the cameras to show objects that were millions of miles away. They were traveling slightly above the elliptic of the solar system, so they wouldn’t be passing especially close to any of the planets, which was disappointing. But, when Mike saw the enhancements of the outer planets and some of their moons, he sat in awe of the alien technology.
It could zoom in on the rings of Saturn and they were spectacular. Mike spent hours looking at Uranus, Neptune and Pluto. He was seeing details, which no one on Earth had ever seen. Scientists at NASA would go crazy looking at these planetary bodies. The various light frequencies could be adjusted, revealing details about their consistency, mass, age and where there was one, atmosphere.
“Wow, these shots are incredible. Could I send a few pictures back to Earth?”
“Think about that, Mike. Could you…yes. But, should you?”
He hung his head and mumbled, “Of course not. I’d be giving away our presence.”
Then Mike’s head shot up, as he suggested, “Why not drop this charade and tell the people of Earth everything? It would make all of this much easier. With the knowledge we could provide them, they could generate a space Navy in no time.”
Like a patient father, Jo said, “Do you really think the people of your planet would react positively? Would the governments align themselves for the benefit of all humans? Would the industries that would be put out of business be helpful? Isn’t it possible that some governments would attempt to use the knowledge to produce weapons, which would be used to subdue rival governments? And, if I’m correct in my analysis, war could erupt in several locations, over religious beliefs being challenged by the new reality.”
Mike’s brief elation was dashed against the truth of Jo’s observations. He thought, “I’ve just been schooled, big time.”
He sheepishly smiled at Jo and told him, “You’re right. Humans aren’t ready to take their place out here. We have a lot of growing up to do.”
Jo counseled, “Your people have come a long way. My people only had one ethnic body to contend with. Yet, for thousands of years, we killed each other for the same relatively trivial reasons that yours do.”
Mike asked, “So, even if I can help you find a few good men, how is that going to prevent the destruction of the human race?”
“Actually, I was hoping we could find a few thousand good warriors and train them to our needs. That will be a start.”
“What will this start consist of? I mean, are we going to declare war on the Saurans.”
“Of course not. We don’t want to forewarn them. Think about this, Mike. From what you have learned, thus far, you must realize that travel between the stars takes time. Even though an individual craft can be propelled very fast, the enormous distances present a natural barrier to any space fairing people. Under normal conditions, the Saurans would have no concern for the research group that had been sent to rob your world of humans.
“They probably won’t begin to investigate for at least two to three years. That will give us enough time to select the right humans, and then leave here to seek out allies.”
Mike was caught off guard by the thought of leaving Earth.
“I’m not going to leave my people without any way to protect themselves.”
Jo spread his hands out, exactly like an umpire at a baseball game, signaling safe.
“Sergeant, we’ve already agreed that the Earth cannot defend itself just yet. So, we shall seek out allies. The Saurans do have enemies. I am considering the Zhanukiabanolis. They are a proud race and have developed good technology. They have been able to hold the line against the Saurans, but they aren’t so powerful that they can overwhelm the scaleheads. I suspect they would welcome a race of warriors to aid them in preventing their own demise at the hands of the Saurans.”
“The WHO?”
“Zhanukiabanolis. Humans seem to abbreviate so many words. You would probably shorten their name to Januki.”
“Would they be offended, if I didn’t use their full name?”
“Probably not. They have suffered great loss of life, in their confrontation with the Saurans. If we can show them that your race will provide them with many warriors, they might be willing to help you establish a space going industrial base. That could save your people more than a thousand years of research. But they are fierce negotiators. They will have demands.”
“What could humans offer them?”
“The only thing you can offer right now, warriors, as many as you can find. The Zhanukiabanolis have been able to avoid being overrun by the Saurans due to their industrial strength. Their small numbers have forced them to use automation to make up for their lack of population, and that certainly includes warriors on the ground and in space.”
Mike groaned and said, “You’re saying we should sell our military services to other races. You want us to become mercenaries?”
“It isn’t what I want, Mike. It’s what I feel your people must do, until they have the ability to defend themselves.”
Jo patted Mike’s hand, as though he was a little boy, telling him, “When I went searching for a warrior, I deliberately sought out an American. They have an excellent record as warriors. Perhaps of even greater importance is their record of common sense in victory. They ensure they have secured their own safety, and then allow the conquered to rebuild and prosper as a near equal. That is a very rare quality among the races you will find in the Galaxy.
“But Jo, it’s going to take years for us to train enough men and we’ll have to learn entire new technologies. As for space flight, while the concept isn’t new to us, the application and details of it will take generations to master.”
Jo smiled. “You will understand the possibilities for your people much better, once you have been upgraded and realize the extraordinary potential of your new mental power. In a few weeks’ time, knowledge of space and intergalactic travel will be dealt with. You will learn a great deal about moving around out here and retain the knowledge you already had.
“That’s why it’s a good idea to recruit combat veterans. They, too, will have all their experiences and knowledge to aid them in adjusting to combat in the new reality. You know better than I that combat requires the ability to quickly make correct decisions. Your veterans will carry with them the experiences of Earth combat and apply those lessons to combat under the new conditions. That type of knowledge cannot be transferred via upgrade.”
Mike was troubled about the whole picture here. He still had no idea if he should trust Jo; and the thought of allowing the alien to alter his mind was nothing less than terrifying. He could be turned into a human robot, doing the creatures bidding. For all Mike knew, he might be the Thorian’s primary means to infiltrate Earth’s military. The people of Earth could become slaves, because of Mike’s bad decision.
“Jo, how do I know that the Saurans are the bad guys here? Perhaps it is you who enslaved them.”
Jo smiled and told him, “Finally, you voice your true concerns. The unfortunate fact is you cannot be certain. Once we are on the Mother Ship, you will be able to do some research of our systems, before you undergo the upgrade. You might also wish to look at the records of the criminals we have in storage. Those records would include video of their capture and you would see the Saurans in action.”
Jo turned away, in thought, and then looked deeply into Mike’s eyes. “I haven’t told you everything abo
ut that raid on your people. They killed three guards on the vehicle, and then ate some of their flesh to test if these humans tasted as bad as they had been told. Even an experienced warrior, such as you, would be disturbed to witness such an event.
“The choice to upgrade will be yours, Mike. I can’t deny that I shall do everything I can to convince you. But the choice will be yours to make, albeit with some minor coercion.
“Humans have so many colloquialisms. My people do also. We have a saying that is similar to one of yours. When in doubt and lacking evidence, trust in your soul. The human equivalent would be…trust your gut, or to put it in a nicer way…listen to your heart.”
The alien certainly had a clever way of using language to gain Mike’s trust. Mike had dealt with a few trusted tribal leaders in Iraq. He found some to be men of honor and others very adept at earning trust, before killing Americans.
He badly wanted to believe in Jo, but his experience told him to be very cautious. He liked the Russian axiom…Trust, but verify. Yet, how could he go about verification? Possibly, this Mother Ship might be able to provide the guidance he needed to make a sensible choice, although he had his doubts about that as well.
When they were eleven hours from their destination, Mike’s mind began to fill with excitement and new questions. By then, his body had made substantial improvement, so Jo reduced the gravity to 1.1g, which the alien explained was the standard gravity on all Sauran vessels.
“Jo, can we see the Mother Ship yet?”
“Certainly.”
A few seconds later, the entire wall lit up and Mike saw the lens begin to zoom in on a few stony objects that composed much of this part of the Kuiper belt. He was surprised that he only saw a few objects.
“Jo, I’m not seeing many asteroids. Where did they all go?”
“Mike, what little I have read about human knowledge of space indicates that you have excellent physicists, who understand the vast distances out here. But, the majority of your people don’t comprehend very much about how your solar system is laid out. Using graphic depictions on television, they see a view indicating an asteroid belt, where these objects are clustered close together. In fact, there is considerable distance between each object. If one viewed the belt on the same plane, looking down it’s length, it would seem that the asteroids were much closer together than they actually are.”
Pointing at the viewing screen, Jo told him, “Here, look again and you’ll see the Mother ship coming into view.”
Finally, an object appeared that looked out of place. He could tell that it was manufactured, due to its oblong, box like shape. As the view expanded, he chuckled at the ridiculous object that had travelled through billions of miles to this solar system. It looked as though dozens of different sized shoeboxes had been glued together. There was nothing aerodynamic about it at all.
Mike didn’t want to sound insulting, so he kept his opinion of the object to himself. “Well, I can see it all right, but how big is it. Where are the weapons and sensors?”
“It isn’t a warship, Mike. It does have a rather powerful laser, which is used on asteroids for retrieval of resources such as iron, nickel, gold and a host of other necessary elements for the fabricator.”
“What’s a fabricator? Can it make weapons? We’ll need to be able to supply the men with a means to fight, so we’ll need weapons.”
Jo laughed. When he did, Mike heard the human equivalent of laughter through the speakers. But he also heard the alien’s true voice, as it sent out a high-pitched warble. That got Mike laughing. It just sounded silly to him.
Finally, as they both calmed down, Jo said, “First, the Mother Ship. It’s a transport and was never designed for combat. I was told that in the past they experimented with this design, converting it for combat, but it proved unworthy. It functions perfectly as a transport vehicle, but it will never be adequate as a war ship. It carries no weapons and, while it has shields to prevent small objects from perforating the hull, as it travels, it isn’t powerful enough to protect it from the weapons of the warships we might face.
“By Earth measurements, it is one thousand eight hundred and forty meters long, four hundred sixty three meters wide at the widest point and has a mass of approximately four and a half billion metric tons, when empty.”
“Jesus Christ! Four and a half billion tons?”
“Why do you use the name of your God?”
“It’s just an expression of awe.”
“Oh, I see. We don’t do that. It is considered an insult to the God of all things.”
“I’m sorry, Jo. I meant no offense.”
“I know that. But, you should avoid such outburst. On some worlds, it could cause a physical confrontation that might be counterproductive to our needs.”
Mike had seen such confrontations between his troops and the more intolerant Muslims of Iraq. He nodded and told Jo, “I’ll try to remember that.”
Jo explained, “The ship’s weight is of little concern, due to the gravatic compensators. Because the ship has enormous power, it can easily adjust those compensators to handle a weight far greater, when it is loaded.”
Mike just shook his head, as he tried to grasp the magnitude of what he had been told. Four and one half billion tons. It was unfathomable to him. He vaguely recalled reading that the International Space Station was just over the length of a football field and weighed around 350 tons.
As his mind tried to put it all in perspective, the alien added more details. “There are three fabricators on board the Mother Ship. They are designed to produce items that wear out with heavy use. A fabricator produces parts for the engines, drive units, waste control and environment. Also, they can reproduce a great deal of other items.
“However, they can only manufacture those items for which there are programs. I know of no such programs for weapons, as that was not anticipated as necessary for the primary purpose of the journey.”
“But, certainly they had some means of manufacturing odd items which had not been anticipated as going bad, or being damaged.”
“Well, now that I think about it, there is a relatively small definer on board. You place an object inside of it and program it to analyze the item; the definer will ‘Define’ the object. It will do laser measurements, metallurgical analysis, of all components in the makeup of the various parts of it and then tell you if it can be reproduced. If it can be done, the definer will generate a program for the fabricator. Then, that item can be reproduced, providing you have the base elements needed.
“The Mother Ship carries a good supply of fundamental elements and some very hard to find rare elements. You have a large group of asteroids, between Mars and Jupiter, which contains thousands of bodies that are rich in metals.”
Mike said, “That may come in handy.”
He thought for a moment, and then commented, “I wish I knew more about the capabilities of the Sauran warships and their weapons.”
Jo was about to speak, but Mike cut him off, by holding up his hand. “I know, I know! That information would be available once I’ve been upgraded.”
Jo just grinned, as he said, “Yes. Some of that information might be available in the Mother Ship’s computer, if we can gain access to the Senior Pilot’s code access. You would call it a password, although it will be very long and complicated.”
“Shit.”
Jo had picked up a few of Mike’s mannerisms. He nodded his head and said, “Ah yes, I agree. Excrement.”
Mike had to laugh again, as did Jo. He felt it was a good sign that the alien demonstrated a sense of humor. He was aware that he was becoming more accepting of the alien and he had to keep reminding himself to remain on guard. Before he chose a path, there was still a lot to be discovered at this crossroad, as Jo had called it.
As they approached the Mother Ship, Jo explained that they would transition inside, via one of two access portals. Mike was able to view a clos
e up of the hull and saw that it wasn’t as smooth as he had first seen. The seemingly metallic hull looked old, pock marked and rippled with age.
When he told Jo that, the alien nodded and said, “Well, it is a very old ship.”
“Yes, but I expected to see evidence of maintenance and some form of upgrading.”
Jo explained, “You would find such improvements on warships, but not on an old transport like this one. In fact, if you saw a new transport, it would be identical to this one. I don’t recall hearing about any substantially new designs for them.
“You see, the Saurans steal designs from the people they conquer. They make little effort to be inventive at all. However, they are good at copying what they can of other races hard work. All their creativity centers on war. They say that is one of their strengths and it’s what makes them unbeatable.”
Mike looked at Jo, as he emphatically said, “Well, we’ll just have to see if that’s true. If we can score a victory or two, it might shake their confidence.”
“Mike, there is a huge difference between wishful thinking and victory.”
“We humans tend to be arrogant at times. But, confidence, born of preparation is in our genes.”
Jo gave him one of his tiny grins and said, “You may be correct about that.”
Mike watched, as their small craft entered the enormous spaceship. The portal itself must have been two hundred meters across and nearly ninety meters high. Jo told him that leaving and entering the Mother Ship was always handled by the ship’s computer. So, they sat there and waited as the entrance and docking maneuver was completed.
Jo left the viewing screen on, allowing Mike to see inside the hanger bay. He saw another small craft, like the one he was in, as well as another craft four times its size.
Jo told him the larger one was identical to the one in which the Saurans had died. Unfortunately, it was lost. Mike was glad the Saurans had perished, but it would have been good for Jo’s purposes to have the other craft available. He was always aware of logistics. It was better to have and not need, than to need and not have.
When he quoted that axiom to Jo, the alien responded, “The Saurans have a similar saying, ‘If you always carry what you need, you will never want.”
Jo explained the clanging noises he heard. “The storage docking process mates a pressurized boarding passageway to our transport. That way, there is no reason to pressurize the transport storage area. When there is a need for a transport to leave or return quickly, it can be done in a minimum of time. The Mother Ship may be old, but it is an efficient design.”
“Makes sense. Hey, Jo, are all the big spacecraft called Mother Ships? Don’t any of them have a name?”
“All of them have names, but a human could never pronounce them and their meaning in your language could not be appreciated.”
Mike shrugged his shoulders and asked, “So, what’s the name of this ship?”
“Other Race Transport and Null-Mind Storage Vessel Number 723.”
“That’s not a real name. Basically, it’s just ship number 723. Does that mean that there are seven hundred and twenty three of this type spaceship?”
“You have the right idea. This ship is number 723 of a production line. It is over two hundred years old, so there are many more. As I indicated earlier, the Saurans don’t make changes in design. As long as it works, they keep using it.”
Mike thought for a moment, before hesitantly asking, “How many warships do they have.”
“I don’t know, but they must number in the many thousands.”
“Jesus Christ. Hup, sorry about that.”
“It doesn’t offend me. But, saying that to a Zhanukiabanolis could cause trouble for you. They are a very religious race.”
“OK. Can we just use the name Januki, in stead of the name that I’ll never be able to pronounce?”
“Of Course. I’ll program the interpreter to substitute that, in your language. But, once you have been upgraded, that won’t be necessary. You’ll be able to say it and speak their words, just as they do and you won’t even realize your doing it. Yet, your comprehension of what is being spoken will be complete. For most races in this arm of the galaxy, Galactic Standard is the language of communication. You’ll be quite proficient in it, once you’ve been upgraded.”
“Jo, you sure are pressing for me to be upgraded.”
“You have learned enough to appreciate my concern and the urgency for a decision from you. I don’t mean to be offensive, but I would like your decision within the next Earth day, if that would be possible. If you cannot bring yourself to decide, then I will return you to your cabin and you can continue fishing, as though your planet was safe from harm.”
Mike became a little hostile. “All right, Jo. You’re pushing me too hard now. When I’m ready, I’ll let you know.”
Jo showed no sign of offense. “As you would say, the clock is ticking.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Humans use a large number of terms to demonstrate their anger and frustration. I find it interesting…perhaps even clever.”
“Fuck you.”
“Ah. You shift from frustration to anger, but I sense fear as well. I’ll stop pushing so hard. But, forgive me if I provide little reminders for you.”
Jo pointed to the exit. “Come. Let me show you the remains of the Sauran I killed.”
The hatch opened for them and Mike followed Jo down the docking passage into Transport number 723.
Chapter 6