Aliens - The Truth is Coming (Book of Aliens 1)

by Adrian Tchaikovsky

  They had to warn the other arks. She started to relay what she knew of the situation into the databanks, updating the ship’s log.

  Jensen put the shuttle in a close orbit, using the planet’s gravitational pull to slingshot it to greater speeds than would be possible with engines alone. Stephanie’s hands started to shake. She gripped the console firmly to steady them.

  “Shit, what the hell is that?” she said, pointing to a flashing red light. Collision. Warning. Missile. Had the damned mutants fired on them?

  “They must have launched some of the Argoss’ mines. Goddamn.”

  The mines had been designed to explode in close proximity to a moving target. Intended for clearing asteroids, they would be just as deadly to the shuttle.

  The explosion that blossomed on the port bow rocked the ship, knocking out the fusion drive and painfully slamming the occupants in their restraints. Pål cursed as the ship streaked towards the surface of Palsenz, vapour from a blown seal turning to a trail of ice as they plummeted.

  Stephanie Chu had been well trained. She followed protocol, sealing the hull breach, but nothing she could do would restart the engines. The planet loomed huge through the narrow viewports. Then they were rocked as they hit the outer atmosphere, causing the shuttle to buck and twist as it fell. The temperature inside the cabin rose noticeably, but they would not burn up; the vessel was too well built for that.

  “Brace for impact,” Pål screamed, his hand reaching for Stephanie’s.

  They went down, ploughing into the rock and sand of the Badlands. Then the shuttle hit a large dune and seemed to skip, becoming airborne again before landing nose first and slewing around, sliding backwards. One of the stubby wings tore off against an outcropping of rock. Stephanie cried out as she gripped Pål’s hand.

  Finally, the shuttle came to a shuddering rest. Lying on its side, partially buried in red sand, the Heimdal had left a ragged scar on the face of the planet that almost mirrored the one on Stephanie Chu’s scalp. Blood began to trickle down into her eyes as she passed out.

  The salvage operation was over.

  The Devil’s Rock

  by William Anderson

  First detected by the new Navstar 3 satellite as it crossed Saturn’s orbit, the object was soon confirmed by several ground-based observatories. After the public announcement of its discovery, it became the focus of everyone on the planet. Night after night, crowds of people gathered at the house of whichever of their friends had the biggest telescope, eager to get a look at what astronomers were calling a once in a millennia event. For Jane and I, that meant going to Dave’s farm, an old place on a bluff overlooking the valley his family had owned and worked for generations. An hour’s drive from the city, it was far enough away that the night sky was nearly pitch-black; perfect conditions for his twenty-inch telescope.

  After college Dave and I had remained friends, and he had been the best man when we got married. I never really understood why he even went to college in the first place, though. After getting his degree in astrophysics, he went right back to the farm, working from sunup to sundown, six days a week. Where he got the energy to stay up at night making observations, I’ll never know. But we were glad to get out of the city, and spend several hours drinking wine and taking turns at the eyepiece.

  “Stephen, let me get a turn?” Jane asked, tickling me as I tried to focus the telescope.

  “You just had your shot!” I cried, playfully pushing her away. “Let me get a chance.” Adjusting the focus, I suddenly got my first clear look at the object. Even after having spent many previous evenings stargazing with Dave, seeing incredible deep space objects, I was amazed by what I now saw.

  The pictures on the newscasts couldn’t really convey how spectacular the object was. Bright red, its coma glowed in a pulsing rhythm that was hypnotic. Trailing behind was a long tail that blazed with orange and yellow streaks, flowing in ribbons that mixed together and then dissipated. No wonder the media had dubbed it The Devil’s Rock.

  “What makes it glow so red, Dave?” Jane asked, while I remained glued to the telescope.

  Dave kept tapping away on the tablet in his lap for a moment, then looked up to respond to her. “That’s a good question, Jane, one that I wish I had the answer to. Normally we can use instruments that analyze the light from any object, and determine a lot about it - like what it’s made of, its temperature, things like that. But for some reason we can’t understand yet, the light from this object defies analysis. For example, we should be able to determine what it’s made of from the emission spectra, but the results don’t match up to any known elements. Which is crazy. I’ve been following other astronomers all over the planet who’ve been trying to figure this out, and no one has any real idea what’s going on.”

  Giving up my spot at the telescope to Jane, I went over and sat next to him. “C’mon, Dave, I know you have some wild theory that explains everything. Run it by me. No, wait, let me guess. Its aliens, right? The Devil’s Rock isn’t a comet, it’s really a spaceship, and it’s coming to invade us!”

  Back in school, Dave had been more than a little obsessed with UFOs, and government conspiracies which suppressed the truth. By graduation he seemed to have grown out of believing in such nonsense, but the look he gave me now made me think my joke wasn’t so funny to him.

  Putting his tablet down, Dave stood up and walked over to the railing, resting on it for a moment as he stared into the sky before continuing to move around the decking. The observation dome he had designed and built himself on top of the old farmhouse allowed a nearly unobstructed view in every direction, and he slowly circled the perimeter before stopping in front of me. His voice, when he spoke, was as serious as I’ve ever heard him.

  “Stephen, you’ve never believed me before about the aliens, but this time you have to. You’re right, this isn’t a comet. Any competent astronomer would tell you the same, except they don’t want to ruin their precious reputations. Besides the fact that we can’t determine what it’s composed of, the tail of the object is getting shorter, and it’s slowing down. Comets just don’t do that. As they get closer to the sun, their speed increases, and the tail elongates due to heating. The only explanation is that it’s a ship, under intelligent control. I believe within a day it will change course, and begin to head towards us.” Stephen realized Jane was standing beside him, and the two of us looked at Dave with concern.

  Dave still believed in the same crackpot theories as he had during our college days, but had stopped speaking about it publicly. Thinking quickly, I felt the best course of action would be to humor him, at least for now. “So, if what you say is true, what can we do about it?”

  Relief flooding his face, he sank into a nearby chair. “You both need to stay here, at the farm. When the ship turns towards us, there will be a lot of panic, and the last place you want to be is in a big city. I have plenty of supplies stocked, and between those and the farms remoteness we could stay here indefinitely. Please - until we see what it’s going to do, it’s safest for you both to remain here.”

  Looking at Jane, I winked, hoping she would let me do the talking. “Well, I think we could both take a little break from work, and have a four-day weekend. But we don’t have any spare clothes.”

  “And I need to get my laptop; it has all my designs on it,” Jane added. “I have deadlines to meet, and the work has to be finished by next week.”

  Dave shook his head as he rose from the chair. “No, no, it’s too risky. By tomorrow you may not be able to leave the city. I can’t let you leave now, it’s too dangerous.”

  Dave’s paranoia was starting to get to me by this point, but I didn’t want to aggravate him. “Okay, how about if we drive back to the city right now, get our stuff, and come right back? It’ll make for a long night, but we’ll be here safe and sound long before morning.” Turning to Jane, I asked, “What do you think? We can sleep in tomorrow, and have a late brunch.”

 
Although neither of them was happy with my plan, fifteen minutes later we were on the road, headed back to the apartment. Driving all night was exhausting, but at least there was no traffic. We made good time back to the city, and loaded up what we needed in less than an hour. After leaving messages and sending emails to our respective offices telling them of our plans, we jumped into the car again, and began the drive out to the farm for the second time tonight.

  “Dave was being a bit nutty, don’t you think?” Jane said as we moved onto the expressway.

  “Yeah, I know,” I replied, yawning. “I just hope that once the comet passes, he snaps back to normal. In the meantime, at least we’ll get a few days of relaxation, and I think we both deserve that. Why don’t you put the seat back, and get some sleep? No sense in both of us staying up all night.” After giving me a quick kiss on the cheek, Jane took my advice, and was soon sleeping peacefully. As I drove on, Dave’s crazy theory keep bouncing around in my head, causing some uneasiness. With an effort, I put those thoughts aside, and concentrated on my driving.

  Arriving back at the farm in the early morning hours, I shook Jane awake. We grabbed our bags, including her laptop, and made our way to the bedroom Dave had set aside for us. After putting everything away, we got undressed, and were asleep almost before our heads hit the pillows.

  When we finally awoke, I was shocked to see that it was already nearly one o’clock in the afternoon. This always happened when we stayed overnight at the farm due to the lack of noise we were used to in the city. We hurriedly made our way downstairs, to find Dave sitting in the living room, watching a newscast. On the screen, three people were talking over each other, arguing something that I couldn’t quite make out.

  As he turned to face us, Dave lowered the volume before speaking. “It happened less than an hour ago,” he said. “The Devil’s Rock changed course, and these idiots are arguing over whether or not it’s headed our way. Where else would it go?” Snorting, he changed the channel several times, settling on another news station. “At least no one is still trying to say it’s a comet anymore, thankfully.”

  Jane and I both stumbled to the couch, stunned by what Dave had said, and sat next to him. Too shocked at first to say anything, we sat listening to the announcer.

  “Space agencies from all over the world have this afternoon confirmed that the object commonly known as The Devil’s Rock veered significantly from the orbit it was previously following. Since then, three other course corrections have also been observed, with only one explanation possible. What had been thought to be an extraordinary comet, is now something even more incredible-an extraterrestrial vehicle. The scientific community is in full agreement that these course changes could only be the result of a ship that is being piloted by some kind of intelligent beings. The debate now is where is this vessel headed? For more on this discussion, we take you to the National Assembly, where an emergency meeting is about to get underway.”

  Dave turned off the TV, got up from the couch, and started to walk away. Somehow, I managed to stammer, “Why’d you turn off the TV? And where are you going?”

  Not pausing to stop, he answered over his shoulder, “All they’re doing is arguing about where the ship’s headed, when it’s obvious. I calculated that there will be two more course corrections, then it’ll be headed right for us. That should happen in the next couple hours, and then that debate will be settled. In the meantime, I’m hungry, and it’s lunchtime. Care to have something?”

  We didn’t share Dave’s good mood. Thanks to the news, any appetite I had was gone. “Maybe later,” I answered.

  “I don’t feel like I could eat anything right now, Dave,” Jane added. “Stephen, can you put the TV back on please, I want to see what’s happening back in town.” Curious myself, I picked up the remote, and turned on a station from our city. Just as Dave had predicted, the city was in chaos. Jane and I watched images showing massive congestion in the streets, caused mainly by people leaving work in droves. Schools had been closed, but the busses were doing no better at getting around than anything else was. Grocery stores were being emptied of goods as fast as they could sell them; people were stocking up in anticipation of the shortages to come. And it wasn’t just in our city that panic was taking over. All over the country, as well as the rest of the world, people were preparing for the worst.

  At least we were safe here on the farm from the brunt of the troubles, but I began to fear what would happen if the ship did turn towards us, as Dave predicted.

  As the afternoon wore on, his calculations were proved correct; the Devil’s Rock made two more course adjustments and was now headed directly for us. It would arrive in less than fourteen hours.

  All attempts to make contact with the ship had failed to yield any results. When that news got out, the earlier reactions looked tame by comparison to what now occurred. All the rumors on the internet about invading aliens added to the panic, as full-fledged rioting began to tear apart city after city, with the police powerless to stop it. By the time the government decided to call in the military it was too late. With all roads blocked by the millions trying to escape the cities, there was no way for the armed forces to deploy in any significant numbers.

  We sat glued to the TV, mesmerized by the scenes of destruction. Even Dave, who had so accurately calculated what the ship would do, was shocked by the reaction. It seemed that the entire world had lost its mind, and was tearing itself apart.

  “I don’t understand it,” Dave muttered. “We should be getting ready to welcome our first contact with an alien species, and instead we’re acting like savages. What is wrong with us?” Not waiting for an answer, he stormed out the front door, muttering to himself.

  Left to ourselves, Jane and I sat on the couch for a while, content to just sit close to each other as the TV blared. Finally, I had enough of listening to the litany of disaster. I grabbed the remote, turned off the set and turned to face her. I could see, in Jane’s eyes, that she also had seen enough destruction, and wanted something more comforting.

  “If this is going to be our last night together, I’m not spending it watching the world end on TV. What do you say we take a bottle of wine upstairs, lock ourselves in the room, and forget about everything except each other?”

  ‘Jane leaned over and gave me a slow, lingering kiss, and that was answer enough. As we climbed the steps to our bedroom, I felt a momentary twinge of guilt – where was Dave? What was he doing? But I soon forgot all about him, and fell into a deep sleep an hour later.

  Sometime later we were jarred awake by Dave banging on the bedroom door. “Hurry up and come downstairs,” he cried. “They’ve managed to make contact with the ship!” We hurriedly dressed and ran downstairs to join Dave.

  “As of yet, the alien communications are indecipherable. But I’m sure we’ll be able to translate them soon enough,” beamed Dave, a huge grin on his face. We sat down to listen to a broadcast on the news channel, but they really had nothing to add to what Dave had told us. Until someone managed to translate the messages, we wouldn’t know any more than we already did. And only three hours now until the ship landed!

  Time seemed to drag on as we sat in front of the screen, unable to tear away from the coverage of the imminent arrival of the ship. At least it had been determined that the craft would be landing in a remote, uninhabited area, which seemed to allay some of the fear gripping the world.

  Finally the moment arrived, and remote cameras captured the strange vessel’s landing. Dark red in color, spherical in shape, it slowed as it approached the surface. Several legs extended from the underside, and it settled softly onto the ground. As I noticed some odd markings on the side of the vessel, the screen unexpectedly turned a brilliant, blinding white. Confused, we shielded our eyes until the image became bearable to watch.

  “What the hell happened?” Dave asked. As if in answer, the same announcer who had been speaking before came on the screen

  “Please stay
calm, we will be going to the president shortly for the explanation of what you all just witnessed.” A moment later the familiar image of the president appeared.

  “I know you are all confused by what you have seen, so please let me explain,” he began. “We have been unable to translate the alien broadcasts so far. Without being able to determine the intentions of the alien craft, it was decided, in concert with our allies, to destroy the ship. I can assure you that the vessel has been utterly obliterated, and there is no longer any threat to our world. I implore all citizens to return to your homes, and resume life as normal. The sooner we can put the events of the last few days behind us, the better it will be for us all. Thank you, and good night.”

  How…how could they?” Dave asked haltingly. He nearly fell over, and Susan and I helped him to the couch. While Dave sat mumbling, we embraced. “It’s over.” I whispered. We stared into each other’s eyes, both clearly feeling the same sense of relief.

  Over the next few days, things quickly went back to normal. Everyone was eager to forget what had happened. Even Dave recovered from the shock of the alien ship’s destruction. “At least no-one can say there aren’t aliens!” he crowed. A week after the explosion, we went back to the city. Over the ensuing months, the events of that week faded until they were like a half-forgotten dream.

  One thing I haven’t forgotten is the close-up of that strange marking on the spaceship’s side, just before the explosion. Rectangular, it contained alternating stripes of red and white running right to left. In the upper left corner, a smaller blue rectangle had a number of small white stars in lines. To this day, no-one has been able to decipher its meaning. I guess we’ll never know what it means.

  The Man Who Wasn’t Dead

  by Terry Grimwood

  1: Cops

  Morrison said. “You were in the army.” He was the oldest of the three detectives in that stinking little interview room. “Omaha Beach, Master Sergeant Tom Hanson.”