by Robin Roseau
No, not Calypso. Just a lake.
I had stridden forward, picked up a rock, and held it up for the cameras. “I hereby declare this to be named Selena’s Rock.” I had then turned and thrown it out into the lake.
And then, over the intercom, I head the admiral mutter, “Great. Now someone has to go find that rock.”
All that was seven years ago.
* * * *
We’d settled in. We’d put down six settlements on the planet. There were only four hundred of us still on Artemis. The settlements were beginning to produce food, but for now, they were reliant on the ship. But they had homes, nice homes, and each settlement was in a temperate portion of the planet, warm, but not stifling.
One was beside a lake called Calypso, and there was a ten-kilometer by ten-kilometer section on the northern shore reserved for the admiral. There would be land for everyone, for generations and generations, and the only reason we hadn’t reserved more for her was because she’d wanted to be near the full settlement. “It’s not like I’m going to be a farmer,” she’d said.
We were making a world for ourselves, a beautiful home, safe and secure, giving humanity a fresh foothold in the galaxy, one of several dozen new footholds, ours the furthest, or it was at the time we had left Earth.
And then. Everything changed.
* * * *
“Battle stations! Battle stations! Battle stations!”
WTF?
I was still pulling on my clothing by the time I arrived at the docking bay. “Status report?” I barked.
I didn’t get an answer.
“Status report!” I screamed. “Status report! What the fuck is going on?”
Nola Johns turned to me, her face ashen. “We’re not alone.”
“What are you talking about.”
Kamila Carter stepped to my station. She punched some buttons, and I found myself staring at another ship, a very not-human ship. “Fuck me,” I whispered.
We weren’t alone. Man was not alone in the stars.
We’re not sure who was more surprised. We readied our weapons. We believe they readied theirs. We didn’t have much; I have no idea whether they had any. But they set up an orbit, a third of the way ahead of us, and somewhat outside our own. And then everyone had waited.
Then the alien ship had retreated, but only so far. They made orbit around Copernicus, the furthest of the large moons, a polar orbit so they never disappeared behind the back side.
From our orbit around Vision, we watched them. We presume, from their orbit around Copernicus, they watched us.
An hour passed. More than an hour. And then they aimed a laser at us.
“It’s a weapon!” someone had yelled.
“Belay that!” the admiral ordered. “It’s a communication device.”
“It’s a ranging device.”
“It’s a simple communication device. Check it. I bet it’s modulating, either frequency or amplitude. I’m betting frequency.”
It took us ten minutes. The admiral was correct. The science people had played, and it took another half hour before, all over the ship, we heard the aliens speaking.
They were clearly words, and, of course, we didn’t understand a single one.
“Rig a return signal.”
That had taken more time. We didn’t have any large lasers rigged for communications, and we didn’t have any that let us vary the frequency, but we could vary the amplitude.
An hour after that, the alien signal changed; they matched us, switching from frequency to amplitude modulation. And they sent back a recording of what we’d said.
So we sent back a recording of what they had said.
We were communicating, after a fashion.
“They’re not blowing us up,” the admiral said. “We’re not blowing them up. That’s a start.”
It was the next day, of nothing happening, that something departed the alien ship. Again, some called it a weapon. It had sped from their ship, heading directly towards us, but it was a single device, and small besides.
It closed half the distance before it began to slow, and then it came closer before slowing again. It divided the distance, again and again until finally it came to a stop a bit over a kilometer from us, and there it waited.
That was when the admiral had appeared at the docking bay. “Lieutenant-Commander Stark.”
I came to attention. “Admiral.”
“I presume you’re aware the aliens appear to have sent a present.”
“I am, Admiral.”
“I need you to send someone to go see what it is.”
“Permission to go myself, Admiral.”
“I thought you’d say that, Lieutenant-Commander. Go.”
I was out of there two minutes later. We’d kept an orbital shuttle ready, after all.
I approached cautiously, on open mic to the admiral for the entire trip. “500 hundred meters. 100. 50.” I paused at that distance. “Admiral, it’s small. Approaching closer. 20 meters. Admiral, it’s a box.”
“A box.”
“An alien shipping box.”
“Is it taped shut with an address label, too?”
“Well. It actually looks like a trunk, about a half meter cube. It’s not tumbling or anything. It’s hanging here. There’s something attached to the side, but it looks quite different. I bet that’s the delivery truck.”
“Lieutenant-Commander,” she said.
“I think I should sign for it, Admiral. Do I have permission?”
“Yes. Please be careful, Selena.”
“Always.”
I moved closer, coming to a stop three meters away.
“Movement!”
It wasn’t much movement. The box simply rotated. And then the “truck” disconnected and backed away, coming to a stop twenty meters away, leaving the package for me. I described all that. “Using the arm.”
I used the mechanical arm to collect the box, then I stared at it through the window as it floated in the airlock. “Admiral, sensors show no contamination on the outside. I know the scientists want to open it there, but you know what? I don’t want to bring this aboard Artemis. Please don’t order me not to do what I’m about to do.”
“Selena,” she whispered. “Do it.”
“Aye-aye, Admiral.”
I opened the airlock door.
“It appears to be a perfect cube, about a half meter, not quite.” I reached out, holding my hand near it. “Are you getting this, Admiral?”
“Every bit.”
“It should be colder.” I tapped it with my fingers, expecting the cold of space. “It must have warmed up faster than I would have expected. Grabbing it.” I did. I turned it around, examining all six sides. “And they gave me directions.”
“Directions. Are they in English?”
I held it up for the camera. “Pictograms,” I said. “Push here. If I explode in a fiery blaze, tell your daughter I’ll never forget our time together on Ganymede.”
“You, Lieutenant-Commander, are a smart-ass.”
“I’ve been called worse, Admiral. Push here. Hmm.” I pressed.
There was a slight noise, then a click, and a panel pressed inward then slide aside. “It’s a box.” I looked inside. “Admiral. It’s a book.”
“A book?”
“A bound book.” I reached in and pulled it out, then set the box aside, letting it float around in the microgravity of orbit. “The cover doesn’t appear to be organic. It feels a little like plastic, but I bet it’s not. Opening it.”
I opened it randomly, somewhere near the middle. “The pages are also some sort of plastic. Much thinner than the cover. Admiral, it’s a picture book.” I held it up. I flipped a few pages. Each page held a simple image. “Is this writing?” I ran my fingers over what might have been words down the side of the page near the spine. There had been similar symbols on the other pages. And as I touched the words, the book spoke.
“Oh, shit.”
“What did you
do, Selena?”
“I touched the words,” I said. I did it again, and the book spoke. I flipped pages, touched the new words, and the book spoke.”
“It’s a Rosetta Stone,” whispered the admiral. “They sent us a Rosetta Stone!” She paused. “Commander, is there anything else in the box?”
I pulled it over and felt inside. “No, Admiral, but the walls feel a little thick, maybe four centimeters. For all we know, it’s ready to explode. For that matter, the book could be some sort of biological weapon.”
“I’m aware of the risks, Commander. We’re going to keep this isolated. I want you to go over the book, cover to cover, for the cameras.”
“Got it,” I said. “I’m going to close the airlock. Give me a few minutes.”
* * * *
I paged the book for the cameras. They recorded everything as I hung out. Two hours later, the Admiral said, “Commander, we’re sending something back to you. We’re going to eject it. I want you to let it come to you, then catch it.”
“No problem, Admiral. A game of catch.”
They sent me a box. Inside the box was a simple computer tablet, with a single piece of paper demonstrating how to start it. I put everything in the delivery box and pressed the “Press Here” button.
It closed, and I slowly approached the “delivery truck.” It turned its back to me, and I used the mechanical arm to offer the box to the truck. It attached. I released. And then it began flying away, back to the alien mother ship.
We’d sent our own Rosetta Stone.
All that was a month ago.
* * * *
But now I was in my quarters, making final touches to my dress whites. I checked my appearance one more time and then headed for the door.
I was nervous, very nervous. Everyone was.
In the seconds after the aliens appeared, we sent an emergency broadcast. It traveled at light speed from us to a rebroadcast probe far, far from Joyous. The probe then forwarded the message, one copy to Earth and one copy to the nearest known human colony.
And then quietly destroyed itself, melting down into nothing but slag.
In the meantime, every computer on the station was wiped of all interstellar maps. Two copies were maintained. A computer program randomly selected two crew members to take possession of the copies, and to be given the keys to unlock the encrypted data. Both of those crew members had no family on this expedition, no one whose life they would buy for knowledge of humanity’s homeland.
No one knew who those crew members were. Well that wasn’t true.
I knew one of them: myself.
I had friends – and even a few lovers – but no family. And if the aliens proved hostile, I could suicide before giving up either the location of where I had hidden the backup, the key to bypass the melt-down system, or the key to unlock the deep encryption.
The key was long, quite long, a song I’d learned as a child, sung in my voice.
It was as secure as we could have made it.
The backup was hidden. I thought they’d have to literally tear the ship apart to find it, and that was if someone told them to even look for it.
But that was behind me, and I headed to the docking bay, putting the thoughts of alien aggression and threats to humanity behind me.
I was far from the first to arrive. Most of the ship was there. We had offloaded as many as we could, for all the good it would do us. The likelihood they were more advanced technologically was high. They probably knew about our settlements. If they were aggressive, we were in trouble.
But so far, it had been peaceful.
But now, perhaps a third of the remaining crew was present. And the alien craft was a half hour away. I’d been on duty until the admiral had growled at me to dress for the occasion. She’d taken my station duties, but I stepped to her side. She glanced at me. “Better, Selena.”
“In case they come in with guns blazing, Calypso, I want you to know: I’ll never forget our one, wild night in Casablanca.”
She roared with laughter. I thought it was nervous laughter, but laughter, nevertheless. Then she did something she shouldn’t have, but a gesture I appreciated. She kissed my cheek. “Whatever happens, Selena, it’s been an honor.”
“And an adventure.”
“You better get to it.”
I nodded. A minute later, I opened the landing bay doors. Through the force field, we could see the alien’s version of our orbiters approach. And then a deeply accented voice said, “Human Federation Ship Artemis, Khalenzi Ship Helsta.”
“Helsta,” I replied. “This is Artemis.”
“Artemis,” said the voice. “Your throats cannot say our names, and so I am called Aurora.”
“My pleasure, Aurora,” I said. “I am Lieutenant-Commander Selena Stark.”
“That is quite a long name.”
“I am sorry,” I said. “Lieutenant-Commander is my title. Do you understand?”
“Yes. My title is Ambassador.”
“The admiral is here, if you would rather speak with her.”
“You are the person who helps us aboard your ship?”
“Yes, Ambassador.”
“I wish to speak with you. I wish you to call me Aurora.”
“Of course, Aurora,” I said. “I mean no offense.”
“No offense is offered; no offense is taken,” she replied. “May I call you something shorter than the name you offered?”
I looked at the Admiral. “They all have taken simple names,” she whispered.
I nodded. “My family name is Stark. It is the family name of my mother and my mother’s parents. My friends call me Selena.”
“May I call you Selena?”
“Yes, Aurora. I’d like that.”
“Thank you, Selena,” she said, the words precise. “Your ship has opened a window, but there remains a barrier.”
“The barrier maintains our atmosphere, but it will allow your ship to pass. If you move closer, we can assure you. Come as close as you are comfortable.” I cut communications and said, “Ensign, be ready to wave an arm out the window.”
“Excuse me, Commander?”
“Grab something long.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Not a weapon,” added the Admiral.
“Right,” said the Ensign. “Aye-aye.”
The alien ship came closer, stopping ten meters away. The ensign came to a stop at the barrier, a tether tied off for safety, and then she waved one of our longest wrenches through the barrier, then snatched it back and dropped it. “Cold!” she said. “Cold! Cold!”
“Important safety tip,” the admiral said. “Metal is a fabulous heat conductor.
“Report, Ensign.”
“I’m fine,” she replied. “I should have known better.”
I keyed the communications. “Ambassador. Um. Aurora.”
“Selena,” came the reply. “Are you offering some sort of ritual?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
“You broke the barrier, but then you made such odd gestures.”
“Oh. That was someone else. She was showing you the barrier is safe, but she didn’t consider the heat conductivity of the device she used.”
“Ah. And is she harmed?”
“No. She learned a valuable lesson. You understand the situation.”
“I believe I do,” she agreed. “May we enter?”
“Please do. I am the woman now stepping towards you. Do you identify me? I am raising one arm.”
“Yes, Selena. I do.”
“I wish to teach you gestures. I must guide you. This gesture means to come forward.” I waved my hands, forward in front of me, then up to my ears, back and forth.
“We have a similar gesture, somewhat different.”
“This gesture means stop.” I held both hands out in front of me.
“That may also be universal.”
“If I do the first gesture, but only on one side, it means to shift to that side.” I showed h
er. “Or the other side.” I switched.
“Understood.”
“Only two more. This gesture means to descend. And this means to rise. That is in reference to my current orientation. Do we understand each other?”
“I believe so. Make the rise gesture.” I did, and her ship moved upwards. I did the lower gesture, and she sank.
“Very good. There is one last part that may be tricky for you. If you are not prepared to handle it, we can help you. As the ship begins to enter Artemis, our gravity begins to take effect. It does not extend outside the ship.”
“We do not do something similar, but we understand.”
“I will direct you to the center of the entrance. Is your craft designed to rest within gravity?”
“Yes. However, we extend feet, and they are too long for the size of the opening in front of us.”
“That may be a problem.”
“We can rest without the feet,” she replied. “It is slightly awkward.”
“You will need to let the forward part of your ship touch our deck. It is a rolling surface, so you can move forward without friction. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” she said.
“Here we go. Move forward.”
After that, I guided them, forward, then positioned properly. Then they began to break the force barrier. There was a slight thud, and it was awkward for them, but they slowly nosed into the landing bay.
And then all was still, their craft listing slightly to port. And then there was noise, and feet extended from either side. They didn’t lift the craft, but they straightened it. More noise, and a ramp extended from the starboard side.
And we saw our first aliens.
Everyone stared. The first one who exited stared. Two more followed her. They stared. And we certainly stared.
The admiral stepped to my side. “Greet them and bring them to me.”
“Aye-aye.” So I stepped forward. “On behalf of the United Human Federation, members of the khalenzi people, welcome aboard Artemis.”
The first alien stepped forward. They were humanoid. She was near my height, only slightly taller, with features not entirely un-human. Her hair was to her shoulders and bright purple. She was scaled, the color gold with red edges, and clad in the most beautiful, flowing gown. She stepped to me. “You are Selena,” she said.