The Visitor

by Tony Harmsworth

  ‘No problem, Eva.’

  It had taken me some time to persuade the space agencies, especially NASA, to allow the message to be played to him, as several of those at NASA and ESA were concerned he might find it deprecatory, but it was important we were honest from first contact, and I’d finally won the day on that issue, but I knew there was a secret still being kept, not only from the alien but also from my colleagues in the Cluster. Nevertheless, I was increasingly surprised how easily I’d got my way when dealing with the alien. Was it simply that I was one of the discoverers or was it a natural authority I projected? Anyway, it was most useful, and I’d use it only to argue for things of importance.

  It was difficult falling asleep that night, especially as I could watch the Earth through my cubicle porthole. I was unable to close my eyes because it was so beautiful, yet at some unknown point they did close, not to reopen until my watch gave its dawn chorus alarm.

  ««o»»

  Alana had already arrived and was in communication with Yuri.

  About four miles away, the strange-looking Mars One was slowly approaching us, its front hub rotating and partially hiding the extended rear which held AD2.

  As I sipped coffee and finished a ham and tomato omelette, I watched the Scaffy Wagon manhandling a quarter section of the alien environment sphere from which the atmosphere had been drained. They were in the process of stashing it against the adjacent section. Their next operation was to move AD2 from the hold of Mars One and place it into the alien sphere.

  AD2 would have already seen the announcement video and Yuri was now showing a screen which said, simply, ‘WE ARE TAKING YOU TO A MEETING. PLEASE BE PATIENT.’

  We hoped this would be sufficient.

  Behind the seats in the Alien sphere was the banner which bore the words ‘Welcome to Earth’ in the alien text. I so hoped they had it right and had not written something trivial or demeaning. I trusted my people, but language was never my strongest subject. We were still at least an hour from opening the hold of Mars One.

  Outside, circling the Cluster were several drones with video cameras recording everything. There was apparent live transmission to the news channels on Earth, but we all knew there was a fifteen-minute delay. Five minutes would not be enough if things went badly.

  No one among the spacefaring nations believed anything but good would come from this meeting of alien species, but there was always the remote possibility we’d misjudged them and were about to get caught unawares.

  ‘Eve,’ a shout from Alana, ‘AD2 has answered “I UNDERSTAND” on Yuri’s monitor.’

  ‘Thanks, Alana. That’s most certainly good news.’

  Alana said, ‘Okay, Scaffies, now hold position until they open the Mars One hold.’ I chuckled to myself that the Wagon drivers were now called Scaffies. I made a mental note to tell Angus when next I saw him.

  ‘Copy that,’ from the Scaffy Wagon.

  Mars One was growing in size. This truly was a much larger vessel than it seemed at first glance. There were short blasts from manoeuvring engines as it changed its attitude to the Cluster, turning tail so the main hold would be closest to the alien sphere. Five minutes later it was stationary, and a tethered figure emerged from a hatch halfway along the cylindrical section of the hull.

  We all watched enthralled, as he made his way to the doors of the cargo hold. First one was unlocked then the other. He swung them open and fastened them back. AD2, in all its pristine glory, was inside, attached to its specially constructed framework.

  29 ‘George Cluster Solution’

  The spacewalker moved to the side of the opening of the hold in case he’d be needed to help with the transfer of AD2. The Scaffy Wagon began an approach to the entrance of the hold.

  ‘Scaffies. Halt operations!’ shouted Yuri over the communication channel.

  ‘What’s up?’ asked Alana.

  ‘I was about to disconnect framework from hold to give the Scaffy access to move AD2 when message came onto monitor. It saying, “RELEASE ME”.’

  ‘We need him to be attached to the framework in order to move him,’ said Alana.

  ‘Well, seems he wanting move freely. I release him if you wish,’ said Yuri.

  I jumped into the conversation, ‘Release him immediately, Yuri. Scaffies, back off, please.’

  No one argued. There were some puffs of fuel as the Scaffy Wagon retreated from its position. There was a slight movement inside the hold, the framework opened and AD2 was floating freely.

  ‘The message is now being, “THANK YOU. STAND CLEAR”,’ updated Yuri.

  Everything was clear of the hold and sphere now, so we had nothing to do but wait.

  Slowly and gracefully, AD2 moved into the entrance of the Mars One hold and it seemed to sweep itself left, right, up, and down as if surveying the scene, then it circled Mars One as if examining it before carrying out the same survey of each of the Cluster’s spheres.

  Very quickly indeed, it vectored away from us to about one hundred metres, which was a bit worrying, stopped and turned back towards us.

  I guessed it was assessing its location and taking a look at the Earth, spread out beneath it. Brilliant white clouds breaking over India and the Far East.

  My heart missed a beat when I saw what it did next. It spun around and shot off towards the ISS. Had I made the wrong call? I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, the one you get when you realise you might have made a serious blunder. Even the secret George and I shared had become ineffective in this situation. Had I got everything wrong?

  ‘It’s heading for the ISS!’ shouted Alana.

  What should I do? I didn’t have any options. Was it attacking us? I still didn’t have any options.

  ‘All we can do is wait and see. Warn the ISS,’ I said, keeping my voice calm and steady. ‘Yuri, please type “PLEASE EXPLAIN ACTION” into the communication system you have been using with AD2.’

  ‘Will do, Eva.’

  The device was now almost out of sight. I grabbed a pair of binoculars and followed it. It was close to the ISS, seemed to pause a while, looped around it for a few minutes then repeated its loop even more slowly. I held my breath. My heart was pounding. Perhaps it was just curious.

  ‘No answer, Eva,’ said Yuri. 'It possibly not received message as away from the Mars One environs.'

  ‘ISS reports it swung around the station,’ said Alana, ‘spent a short while beside the Cupola and close to a Soyuz and Dragon and is now heading slowly back towards us. It gave them a fright for sure, passed very slowly past the living modules.’

  ‘Just curiosity, I think,’ I said, glancing at George who raised his eyebrows. Secret relief passed between us.

  It returned to the Cluster, turned towards the sphere and sleekly entered where the sections had been removed. In less than a minute it was pointing towards AD1 and manoeuvring around it, perhaps examining the damage and the empty cavity within it. It touched its golden rod against AD1’s and, after a minute or two, it turned and faced the seats from more or less the position we’d been going to attach it to in the first place. It had cut the transfer time down but had almost given me a heart attack in the process. I’d had visions of the ISS being blown up and then us. Heaven knows why I should expect it to hurt us, but for a moment I had, and it took a while for my heart rate to return to normal.

  ‘Eve, can I give the command to reinstate the sphere sections?’ asked Alana and I nodded. I glanced towards George Rainey again and raised my eyebrows in a sign of relief which was mirrored by him widening his eyes briefly. First crisis over, perhaps.

  The Scaffy Wagon approached the sphere again, grasped the first of the three segments and began the process of fixing them back into position. It was a painfully slow procedure and wasn’t completed until almost one in the afternoon. I’d already suggested the diplomatic team had some lunch. AD2 made no further move.

  During lunch, the shuttle bus docked and brought Yuri from Ma
rs One to the living quarters. We had a welcome and warm hug and, damn it all, he had to say he was sorry about Mario. I’d been unprepared and ended up in floods of tears in a bearlike hug from Yuri which was hurting my arm, but I dared not say anything to stop such a wonderful gesture. I pulled myself together, separated from him and had to deal with zero-g sticky-tears. Such a nuisance. He gave me a second comforting hug but thankfully not so tightly.

  The Scaffy Wagon put the last section in place and one of the crew was now outside checking the seals before we introduced atmosphere to the sphere.

  The six of us in the diplomatic team suited up and, one by one, we passed through the airlock from the observation chamber into the presence of the two alien vehicles. I paused in mid-flight beside George and squeezed his shoulder before taking my turn. He looked up at me knowingly. Beside him were the two military observers, both in dress uniform, a general from the USA and a colonel from Russia, who was having trouble controlling space sickness. Fortunately, our governments had kept the military out of any involvement with the alien. Hopefully that would prevent the misunderstanding and disasters oft depicted in first-contact movies like Arrival, The Abyss, and The Day the Earth Stood Still. Thank goodness, however, no one knew of the secret George and I possessed. Little did I know that would be blown wide open in the next few minutes.

  The pressure suits had a supply of air which would last thirty minutes. Shutting the visor turned on the air. We had all practiced the action and even I could shut it in less than a second. I wanted us to have our visors open when we met the alien personality. A twenty-inch monitor and speaker were on hand.

  Soon we were all seated in our allocated places with me at the front.

  I gazed at this inanimate alien artefact and, feeling foolish, uttered the words, ‘Welcome to Earth.’

  I half expected him to say, ‘Take me to your leader,’ but the reply, when it came ten seconds later was much more mundane.

  ‘Good afternoon, Evelyn,’ the first words spoken by an alien to humanity in a face-to-face meeting, even if one face was a miniature spaceship. I recognised his voice as a perfect copy of the man Roy had used for the English tuition video.

  He knew my name. It meant he understood the reveal video and that it was me who presented it. It also meant he could tell us apart, even in helmets, which confirmed he had excellent visual sensors and the sound seemed to be emanating directly from him, not the speaker we’d provided.

  ‘Thank you. Good afternoon to you too. What should we call you? You’ll know I used the name Allen for the image of one of your people in the video.’

  ‘I am Allen.’

  ‘The same Allen as in the image?’

  ‘The same. My real name is Nsyncadma.’

  ‘I am pleased to meet you, Nsyncadma.’

  ‘What happened to my other self?’

  ‘We think he was struck by a meteor in antiquity. Seated behind me are Hugh, Reg, Yuri, Petra, and Alana.’

  ‘I am pleased to meet you all.’

  Several variations of hello or welcome came from behind me.

  ‘Do you know how long you have been here?’

  After a brief pause, he said, ‘One hundred and thirty-two million, four hundred and eighty-seven thousand, five hundred and fifty-three of your Earth orbits.’

  My goodness. That was precise.

  ‘Have you been asleep throughout that period?’

  ‘We have, although we awoke regularly to check our situations.’

  ‘We have been examining your other self from the damaged craft. Can we continue to learn from him, or would you prefer we returned him to you?’

  ‘In good time, I would like to deactivate his mind modules.’

  ‘Are we supposed to unscrew your golden rod?’

  ‘No, unscrewing the rod was a mechanism to awake me if systems had not already awoken me automatically. I awoke during transportation from the planet you call Mars.’

  This all seemed to be going well. Simple questions and simple answers.

  ‘Why have you come to visit us?’ There, the first pointed question.

  ‘We are explorers. Some of us made the choice to have our minds sent to other planetary systems in the hope of meeting other civilisations such as yourselves.’

  ‘So, does your original body still exist on your home world?’

  ‘No. I am long dead. Even my civilisation might be gone after such a long period. It was a choice we made. I will have lived a normal life on my home world, Dregednon. I am fortunate to have also had the opportunity to exist in this form. Life is short. Electronic life can be almost indefinitely extended.’

  ‘Can you communicate with Dregednon? Did your home world give you updates on how it was doing?’ This was a question the military had requested be asked, to discover if he was communicating with his world.

  ‘No, neither. Those of us who undertook the exploration project knew we would be alone. The speed of photons may be fast, but communication, even at that speed, is impractical.’

  ‘For how long are your craft designed to operate?’

  ‘One day one of me might observe the end of the universe.’

  ‘But fuel?’

  ‘The fuel for orbital adjustments should last indefinitely and even primitive cultures could synthesise it for us. Will you please deactivate the device?’

  ‘Which device? The monitor?’ I asked, rather puzzled at his request.

  ‘The nuclear device which is attached to this environment.’

  There was agitated rustling of the suits of my team behind me as they obviously looked at each other questioningly. I hoped George was relaxed in the observation sphere.

  How on Earth did he know about the device? How should I answer this? I thought back to my Downing Street meeting which had taken place before I’d travelled to Motherwell for the launch. It hadn’t been what I expected, and neither was this situation.

  ««o»»

  I’d arrived at the front door of Number Ten to cries from journalists across the road of ‘Dame Evelyn, a moment’ or ‘Doctor Slater, a quick word’ plus various other combinations, but I waved and continued my painful hobbling into the United Kingdom’s seat of power. The glossy black door, with the distinctive ten upon it opened as I reached it.

  I was taken to a lift so as not to worry about climbing the famous Kent staircase, with its gallery of previous Prime Ministers’ portraits.

  We emerged near the newly refurbished Cabinet Office and the adjacent Prime Minister’s office. The parliamentary private secretary slowed to allow me to keep up as we passed the open door of the empty Cabinet Room.

  The door to Mr Clarke’s office was opened for me. He was behind his large antique oak desk with burgundy inlaid leather. The carpet had an elaborate pattern of reds and purples. On the wall behind the desk was an original Turner, on loan from the Tate Gallery. It was a beautiful room.

  Mr Clarke looked up from some papers and removed his spectacles. A broad smile crossed his face. He was up, out of his chair, walking around the desk and approaching me before I’d crossed the threshold.

  His hand grasped mine and our cheeks touched French style.

  ‘So lovely to see you, Dame Evelyn. How are your injuries?’

  ‘And you, Prime Minister. I’m improving slowly.’

  ‘Tea or coffee?’

  ‘Tea would be lovely, sir.’

  ‘Edward,’ he called, ‘tea for two and close the door.’

  He guided me to the sofa at the rear of his office which faced a working fireplace with a real coal fire. I loved the informality of the meeting.

  ‘Ready for your launch? Are you well enough?’

  ‘I’ll let you know when we reach orbit, sir,’ I said with a laugh.

  He chuckled. ‘I wanted to have a private chat with you, Evelyn.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Here we go. I’d guessed there was some motive for this meeting other than to wish me well.


  ‘You can call me Roger when we’re not in company.’

  ‘Thank you, sir, er sorry, Roger.’

  The door opened, and a tray arrived with teapot, hot water jug, milk jug, cups, saucers, and a lovely selection of biscuits. So civilised.

  ‘Evelyn, I wanted to let you know you have the full confidence of the Cabinet. We’ve been discussing this at length, and I can tell you we’ve been seriously lobbied by the US President and President Gorelov to have a career diplomat or a general making first contact.’

  ‘I guessed, sir.’

  He looked hard into my eyes. ‘It’s Roger!’

  ‘Sorry. I find it difficult using your forename, Roger.’

  ‘Well, no worry. I want to relieve the pressure, not add to it.

  ‘I want to impress upon you how careful you need to be when you’re speaking to the alien, if you get the opportunity to do so.

  ‘You need to concentrate on the billions of people down here who need a good outcome, or more accurately, don’t want a bad one.’

  ‘I’ve had a lot of trial discussions with diplomats since I knew I was to be diplomatic lead. It’s impossible to know what course the conversation will take. I also have George Rainey with me for advice and he’ll have a microphone linked to my earpiece if anything gets tricky,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t tolerate any threats, Evelyn.’

  ‘Roger, the problem is likely to be recognising a threat. However, with everything we know from AD1 and the way AD2 has behaved so far, I am confident everything will go smoothly.’

  ‘Be strong if you need to be,’ he said.

  ‘But we have no armoury against it. We can’t even punch a hole in the metal of it without destroying everything within ten kilometres.’

  ‘Evelyn,’ his voice lowered, ‘you know I’ve always been honest with you since I first spoke to you in the SDIV?’

  ‘Yes.’ What was coming?

  ‘And you have always been straight with me?’

  Oh, my God. I knew, there and then, I owed him absolute honesty, no matter what the outcome. I had to confess my sin even if it meant I was thrown out on my ear, I couldn’t lie to this man about my space crime.