The Fall

by J. L. Wood

  Don continued to survey the land and froze when he caught a glimpse of a giant tower that seemed at least ten kilometers away. It pulsed a soft-pink glow that sent chills down his body. The tower seemed identical to the one Pitch Jr. broadcast from Lerner 4i. Then…it shifted. The base grew fuller while the top of the tower thinned. Don blinked in shock, anxiously awaiting more movement, but it remained still. I better hurry up, he thought as he continued his search for the satellite. The sun was setting fast, and he was losing visibility from the black sand.

  After activating the headlights on his helmet, he continued to walk through the debris. The satellite lay collapsed near the far rear of the ship. Don’s heart sank as he looked at its broken solar arrays and hoped that the remaining pieces would be enough to send a message back home. He grabbed the bar attached to one of the solar arrays and pulled it through the sand one lunge at a time due to its immense weight.

  “Holy crap,” he said, stopping to take a breath. “Lerner isn’t making this easy for me.” He continued to struggle with the satellite, and upon realizing he had barely moved it a few paces, he sank into the sand, leaning his back against its smooth side. “Well, that’s not going to happen.”

  Don then pulled himself up and returned to the area near the hatch door of the Pitch. He popped open the test kit and pulled out the air-quality probe. The readings were identical to what he found on the ship. He then tested for radiation, something he forgot to do while onboard, and smiled at the results. “Not bad, not bad,” he whispered. While Don closed the test kit, he thought he heard voices in the distance.

  “Who’s there?” he yelled, muffled behind his helmet. There was silence. That oxy, he thought. I need to take less next time. The sun had nearly set, and he could no longer see far into the distance. He looked up at the sky to see if he could tell where he was now, but a soft voice in the distance caught him off guard. “I said, who’s there?”

  Slowly Don backed up toward the hatch door of the Pitch, trying to identify where the noise was coming from. He tried to convince himself it was the medicine, but he really believed he heard something. He moved his head back and forth, trying to light up the sand. In the distance he saw movement, a shadow but no form.

  “I am here,” the voice called from the shadows. “Only one.”

  Don slammed the hatch door button and ran inside, nearly tripping on the lip of the door. He slapped the hatch door closed and backed up toward the far end of the cockpit. “What the…what the shit, shit, shit,” he stammered. He could not tell if what just happened was real or if it was the oxy and darkness playing tricks on him. If anything, he needed to alert Justin, tell him that when he came to save him, there was something else on the planet, that he needed to be prepared. He ran to the comms system again and tried to call to the NASA alert system, but it was still broken. He then sat back in his command chair. All he could do was wait. This was out of his hands.

  *

  When Don woke up, the pain began to set in. He knew it was best to not take any more pain meds. He needed to be alert to confirm if he had actually heard voices. Knowing he could solve one problem, he pulled one of the meals from the wrapped-up towel and frowned when he read the label. Fruit cake. He picked up another. Fruit cake. And then another. Fruit cake. “Why would anyone need so much damn fruit cake?” he yelled.

  He rested his head in the palm of his hand. The pain was working on his mood, and he knew he couldn’t let it control him. There’s only fruit cake because no one likes fruit cake, he thought as he ripped open one of the freeze-dried packages. Only opening the tab a little on the contingency tank, he let a small amount of water fill the package. He tore off a piece of the cake and hesitantly put it in his mouth.

  “Mmm…” he said sarcastically as he forced it down his throat. “Just like the ones Grandma would toss in the trash.” When he was done, he used the pouch as a cup to hold water from the container and drank until he was satisfied.

  His stomach now settled, Don wondered what would happen to Justin should he arrive. Now that the meds had worn off, he realized he needed to check if the voices were real, and if they were, he had to find a way to use the satellite to send a message of possible danger. Although he didn’t want to step outside again, he knew he had to. If the situation were reversed, he would expect the same courtesy.

  He strapped on his helmet and slowly pressed the button to open the hatch door. “What the…” he exclaimed, quickly shutting the door again. The satellite was sitting just outside the hatch door. He gently rested his palm on the button while he thought through the situation. It appeared to be a peace offering.

  They watched me struggle, he thought. And so they brought it to me.

  Don knew he had to contact the NASA Collaboration. He thought back to the creation of the Pitch, one of the first intergalactic spaceships with the ability to travel through space faster than the speed of light, and the creation of the portal to this galaxy. It had been a rapid succession of technological improvements created after the Collaboration understood how to harness the power of Element 122.

  Although NASA did not share much about the rare element, through his contacts, he did learn it could only be mined from Greu 9b, in the Milky Way galaxy. Before the knowledge of how to use Element 122, it took humans over twenty years to make the trip to Greu. He also learned that the element was a gift from a sentient species. They made contact once with humans on Earth’s moon and never returned. That was all the information he was ever privy to.

  The Pitch was granted from the NASA Collaboration to document galaxies, and the Caprice was granted to find a second home. There were dozens of companies in the Collaboration, each granted the same treatment with the rule that they could never visit anywhere near Greu. The Collaboration did not want anyone else to have access to Element 122. They were to be the only source of this special element. That they made perfectly clear.

  Don wondered if the sentient species was here. He doubted the creatures from the belt would move the satellite for him. They’d tried to kill him. Plucked him from open space and tossed him to the surface. The planet was initially thought to be barren, and through his documentation missions, he’d never seen anything in Lerner 4, let alone all of Lerner. As far as his previous team knew, this was the uninhabitable zone. But there were the towers. Someone or something had built those towers.

  Then what are the creatures circling the planet? he thought. What is their purpose, or am I wrong and they are one and the same? Maybe there’s nice ones and evil ones. No…no. That thing spoke. That was something else. He cleared his head. Don had no idea what to do when coming in contact with an alien species. He looked around the room for something to give in return and thought about the fruit cake. That’ll make them enemies, he thought with a wry grin. He pushed the button to the hatch door and stepped outside onto the surface again.

  The sun was now up, and Don realized he had dozed longer than he intended. Keeping an eye on his surroundings, he pulled one of the cords from the satellite to the side of the ship. After releasing a small lever, he popped open the ship’s side compartment. The cord’s connector was frayed, but with the wires exposed, he was able to plug them directly into the auxiliary port. Satisfied, he ran back into the cockpit and tried the communication device.

  “This is Donald Wolf. I am stranded in Lerner 4, Messier 83, the Southern Pinwheel Galaxy, in the constellation Hydra. Do you copy?” His excitement was met with silence. “Carrie?” he asked. “Can you tell where we are now?”

  “We are on Lerner 4d, Do-doctor Wolf. Latitude-ude 29.2760. Longitude nega-negative 95.555m negative 95.369804.”

  Don tossed the headset on the command board. “Well, at least I know where I am,” he muttered. He thought about attempting to repair the device, but he was hesitant to walk the surface again. Something was off about Lerner 4d. Initial documentation of Lerner 4 listed it as uninhabitable. It was not on the list for the NASA Collaboration’s Phase II of finding a second home. Don�
��s forehead creased. It didn’t make sense. Life had found a way on Lerner 4d, and the readings of the exoplanet were good. But something was off.

  Don pulled up the offline documentation of Lerner 4 on the Pitch’s computer. He scrolled through the exploration notes from the NASA Collaboration, Phase I of the 2020s, until he found his own notes. “It had a white dwarf!” he exclaimed. “Lerner 4 had a depleted star! How did the satellites not pick this up? So, in ten years, Lerner 4’s star reenergized and made life.” He stopped for a moment. “Or in ten years, or whenever the star reenergized, something made Lerner 4d their second home.” That sounded more reasonable, and he frowned. “They beat us to it. Those bastards.”

  Don covered his mouth in disbelief. He still needed to alert Justin about the inhabitants of the planet. It was his responsibility. He grabbed the emergency repair kit near the hatch door and pressed the hatch release button again. I wonder, he thought as he placed his hand on his helmet while walking out onto the surface. He slowly unlatched his helmet and sat it beside him. The air was cool on his face, and he could smell water. He took in a short breath of the fresh air and then exhaled. “That’s nice,” he whispered, taking in another breath.

  He knelt down in the sand and inspected the satellite. He could see the potential damage. Part of the satellite was heavily dented in. He pulled a crowbar from the repair kit and attempted to pry the panel off, the movement causing his left arm to erupt in pain. Work through it, he told himself as he continued to force the panel off. After one final pull, the plate popped off and fell into the sand. Don inspected the compartment.

  “Why did you come?” a voice asked from behind him.

  Don jumped, hitting his broken arm against the satellite, the crowbar held firmly in his working hand. He scooted back behind the satellite and stood up. His heart was in his throat as he looked at the creature in front of him. It was tall and thin, its skin black as the sand, with large oval eyes. The eyes glistened in the daylight, each one larger than both of his fists combined, but reflective of nothing. It wore a beige cloth wrapped around its thin waist, and its sides seemed nearly translucent, giving way to a light-pink glow similar to the tower.

  “I-I saw the signal,” he stammered. “The fast radio bursts, I tracked them here. I thought someone needed help, so I came.”

  The creature stood still and then looked at the debris from the ship. “Important?” it asked, holding out its open palm toward the satellite.

  Don nodded and tried to speak but nearly choked. “Yes. Thank you for bringing it.”

  “We could use you, little one. Drop weapon.”

  Don shook his head and stepped backward. “Use me for…use me for what? I just want to go home. Peace. No trouble.” He held up a peace sign and gave an uncomfortable smile.

  The creature stepped forward, blocking the entrance to the Pitch. “This is home. For you.”

  Don stepped backward diagonally until his back was to the tip of the ship’s wing. The world around him began to transform. He trembled and nearly dropped the crowbar. Grass appeared along with a small waterfall.

  “What’s happening?” he yelled. “What are you doing?” He watched as the creature stood still, its eyes now a smoky gray. Don’s heart raced, and he took off running, away from the ship. When he looked back, the creature was still in the distance, standing still. He continued forward until he saw the waterfall again. “What the shit!” he yelled as he continued running. When he passed the waterfall a third time, he turned around and found the creature standing in front of him.

  “Heal,” it said, holding out one of the small creatures in its hand.

  Don recoiled and tried to run again, but the creature pulled him back by his broken arm and shoved the small urchin into his mouth. He tried to spit it out, crying out in terror, but the alien overpowered him. Its massive hand covered Don’s face entirely, and when he tried to suck in a breath of air, the creature made its way into his system.

  Don fell into the sand and squirmed. “It is sacrifice, young one,” the alien said. “The dikap give so that you may live.” Don rolled over onto his stomach and coughed heavily. “This world, all of these worlds, are yours. Your system will die. Thrive here.”

  Don vomited the fruit cake and saw the small urchin in his mess. “It’s dead?” he asked. He then moved his left arm. “It healed me? That thing healed me?”

  The creature knelt near Don. “That was its sacrifice, and this is yours.” The creature removed the illusion of the false world, bringing Don back to the sandy planet.

  Don started to breathe heavily and was unable to catch his breath. There was too much happening at once, and he couldn’t comprehend the events. “I-I-I what? I-I—”

  The creature returned the world to the waterfall. “Gift,” it said. “Eventually. For you and yours. Your star will die eventually. That is the way.”

  Don shook his head and kicked at the grass, scooting back, making distance between him and the creature. “Mine? The sun will fail? How do you speak my language? Are you the—” Don heard chirping in the distance and stopped. He stood and looked up at the sky. A small red bird was perched on a branch. “It’s beautiful,” he said, walking around the site, taking in the nature. “And it will look like this? It will be ours?” He had never smelled anything so pure in his life. As he continued zigzagging through the area, smelling flowers, he looked back at the creature and smiled. He was in an oasis.

  – 16 –

  Horizon

  Day 4

  Jessica watched over Michael’s shoulder in the Horizon Shuttles hub of Leona, Texas, as he pulled up the coordinates to where Don was stranded. The equipment that he was using was nothing like she had ever seen—the entire map of the area was laid out from the upload of the video and photos taken from Don’s mission, down to the belt of aliens circling the planet. Michael touched a button on the screen, and a layer appeared over the map, showing where Don had stationed the Pitch when he sent Pitch Jr. out, along with the speed in which the ship was captured. “Amazing,” she whispered.

  “Only the best,” Michael responded. “Check this out.” He placed a thin round metal device over her head that rested just above her ears. The front of the device was clear glass. “We call this bad boy a Spyglass,” he continued, pressing a button on the side of the device. “It picks up the feed from all of the cameras on the ship to create one viewpoint.” Gently, he raised her hand so that it touched the side of the Spyglass. “This is how you move throughout the ship.” He then placed a small audio device in her right ear. “And this is how you listen in. Tap it to speak to the crew.”

  The Spyglass turned white, then slowly faded into a picture. “My goodness,” she said as she watched the crew perform their prelaunch duties. “I feel like I’m there.”

  The crew was inspecting their equipment, checking off lists on small electronic pads that were attached to their forearms, focused on their mission, moving with calculated movements and interactions. They were everything Jessica expected a space fleet to be. Commander Keener huddled his team inside of the Persephone around the command chair. All of the crew members stood up, backs straight in a tight semicircle facing Keener, their thumbs interlocked, palms flat against their stomachs.

  “Weird stance, huh?” Justin whispered. Jessica nodded, waiting for the speech from Commander Keener. “They don’t use the backup devices,” Justin continued. “They have implants in their hands that activate from pressure. Depending on the movement, a series of—”

  “Shhh…” Jessica whispered. “They’re starting.”

  “Listen up,” Commander Keener addressed his team. “The notes from Donald’s mission indicate that the satellite he sent to the planet remained unharmed by the indigenous creatures. It was only after Donald removed his helmet that his ship was seized. You must all remain in full gear until we are in the safe zone. We know nothing about the inhabitants. Nothing about the atmosphere. This is a drop-and-grab operation, meaning we should not be on the surf
ace for more than fifteen minutes. Krazenski, I’m assigning you to the escape pod. If, after fourteen minutes, we are not on this ship, release the pod and return home. There is no waiting on this mission—it is too dangerous.”

  The crew nodded in unison and remained still. Keener continued. “Fackler, you’ll be with me. Everyone else, man your customary stations and be on the alert to fire if need be. Follow protocol, and we will get home safe. No matter what you see, remember your training. Our mission is to save our fellow astronaut Donald Wolf, and we will. Now, get in position.”

  Jessica continued to watch from the Spyglass as the team simultaneously strapped themselves into their seats and began their final ready checks. When the last check was completed, Keener’s command board lit up green, and he pressed his transmit button. “This is Commander Keener to base. We have passed our final checks.”

  “Roger that, Keener,” Michael said. “Confirming coordinates and checks.”

  Jessica studied the inside of the ship. It was clean and sleek, unlike the ships she had seen. A majority of the controls were automated, allowing the crew to perform other duties. Everything inside the ship seemed to sparkle, as if a thin protective film had just been removed before the crew entered.

  On the way to the Horizon station, she’d learned that the Persephone was one of four ships in Horizon’s space fleet, a section of the NASA Collaboration that coordinated with the United States Space Force. It had been created to protect the partners of the Collaboration should they come into contact with deadly forces during their missions. Jessica was not aware that such a unit existed, and she envied the crew and supporting teams.