by D. M. Pruden
“I assume you recognize these ships as Glenatat, Doctor?”
“Oh, they are more magnificent than I could ever imagine from the record descriptions. Yes, Captain, they are indeed.”
“Are they hostile?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“They likely have never encountered humans. Will they roll out the welcome mat, or are these the bouncers?”
The scientist was nonplussed. “I...I surely don’t know.”
Hayden blew out from puffed cheeks and turned back to the approaching ships. “I was afraid you would say that. I’m betting, based on their apparent lack of any form of engines on their structure, that their weapon systems are equally weird and formidable.”
“I would think so, Captain. The Glenatat established a galactic empire twenty thousand years before humanity learned how to cultivate crops.”
“I don’t suppose they can be expected to use anything as primitive as radio waves?”
Gabriel shrugged.
“Well, I guess we should try anyway,” said Hayden. “See if you can get any kind of response out of them, Ensign Bates.”
“Captain, there is only twenty percent power on the forward lasers,” said Gunney. “Our remaining operational rail gun is at the ready. Optimal effective range is five thousand kilometres.”
If these beings were as advanced as Gabriel suggested, Scimitar’s weaponry would probably prove useless at any distance.
The hatch opened, and Stella squeezed through the opening, only to be stopped by the imposing figure of the security chief, who guarded the bridge. Hayden waved to Atan, who permitted the girl to enter. She approached with a worried expression.
“How are we doing?” he asked quietly.
She regarded him, puzzled, before realization set in. “Everyone is anxious, but you didn’t need me to tell you that.” She smiled weakly.
He returned her smile before returning his attention to the viewer. “Time to intercept?”
“They’ll be on top of us in just under a minute,” said Cora.
“Keep the bugs well away from them. No sense letting them think they’re being attacked.”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
True to Cora’s prediction, the three massive ships arrived and encircled the Scimitar.
“As if we had any chance to escape in our condition,” said Hayden. “Mister Bates, anything on the comm?”
“If they heard us, sir, they haven’t let on.”
The atmosphere was deathly still, as if everyone was afraid to breath. Two minutes passed without a word being uttered. The alien ships hung in space, giving no indication if they were friend or foe.
“Perhaps they intend to bore us to death?” muttered Hayden. Someone stifled a laugh.
Stella seemed calm.
“Are you getting anything?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said, “almost as if nobody is out there.”
“Captain,” said Kwok. “We seem to be moving.”
He examined the screen for any indication of relative motion. Seeing nothing, he rushed to the science station and reviewed the AI log. Their distance to all three vessels had not changed since their arrival. The logs showed some minor increase in graviton field density, but that could easily be attributed to the presence of the three massive ships.
“Ensign Kwok, how did you come to that conclusion?”
“Sir, we’re so distant from the nearest star that it took some time to notice, but the navigation computer just confirmed we have moved almost fifty thousand kilometres from our last measured position. It isn’t drift, either. Those ships are moving right along with us, and we are accelerating.”
“Damn it! Of course. We are being towed. They must be using some kind of graviton technology to move us.”
“Captain, I can attempt to disable one of them with a pulse from the laser cannons,” said Gunney.
Hayden studied the image of the alien ships on the viewer. They appeared so benign. “Stand down. If they meant us any harm, we wouldn’t be able to do much about it. They want us to go somewhere, so for the time being, we will cooperate.”
The cyborg grunted, clearly not pleased.
“However,” Hayden added, “maintain full alert status and order the Rangers to armour up, just in case somebody tries to board us, uninvited.”
A satisfied grin spread across his ugly face. “Aye, Captain, consider it done.”
“Mister Kwok, have you any idea of our course?”
“Still compiling the data, but it appears we are being dragged back to where the ships came from.”
“Is there anything in that direction?”
“Not even a star, sir, which is really weird.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, with the stellar density in this part of the galaxy, you would be hard pressed to find a single region that is empty of stars, and yet that is exactly where we are heading.”
Hayden adjusted the viewer. There, in the centre of the image, amid a solid wall of starlight so thick that it was difficult to make out individual points of light, lay a dark hole in space.
“And the even stranger thing is,” added Kwok, the tension in her voice rising, “that particular area is growing in size.”
Hayden stared at it, trying unsuccessfully to see what the helmsman had described. Frowning, he considered a potential action that might seem confrontational to the aliens, but he had to know if he was right.
“Cora, deploy the bugs forward and direct their sensors at the black hole.” He winced at his poor choice of words. “I want an estimate of size and distance.”
Returning to the science station, he examined the logs. No X-ray or any other kind of radiation emission came from the region, and gravity readings showed insufficient mass for it to be a singularity.
“Cap’n,” said Cora, “preliminary data coming in now. That thing is almost two hundred and fifty million kilometres in diameter. We are about twenty light-hours from it and closing at ninety-three percent of light speed.”
He looked incredulously at her.
“And our remaining engine isn’t even warmed up,” she added.
A loud murmur arose while Hayden rechecked the data. He leaned back against the console, laughing.
The buzz of conversation ceased as everyone regarded him, puzzlement on their faces. Seeing them, he got control of himself, lest they think he’d gone off the deep end.
“Sorry, but I think I know where they are taking us.” He pointed at the growing black region on the display. “That is a Dyson sphere.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
The Dyson Sphere
EIGHTEEN HOURS AFTER the Glenatat began towing the Scimitar, they neared the Dyson sphere. Its enormity blotted out everything before the ship. Hayden ordered all astrometric scopes and ship’s instruments trained on the impossible artificial structure. He seriously doubted they could record information across a third of it. What they did observe, however, fascinated him.
They were now close enough for the diffuse starlight of the galactic core to reveal surface detail. It was clearly ancient, scarred and pitted with the markings of asteroid and comet impacts. None of the spectrographic readings gave any indication what it was composed of. Hayden couldn’t begin to imagine the level of technology required to construct it. Its diameter would enclose the orbit of Mars, if it had been around the Sol system.
One observation made during their approach disturbed him. Marring fifteen percent of its surface and wrapping around to the back of it was an enormous, circular scorch mark. It looked like something the size of a major planet had impacted against the structure.
He had no way to confirm his notion, but Hayden suspected the scar was of relatively recent origin, seeming more artificial than natural. He wondered who or what might be capable of mounting such a massive assault and worried the Malliac were responsible. He despaired over humanity’s pathetic inability to defend itself against them.
When it seemed like t
hey were going to be driven into the surface by the three alien ships, an opening large enough to swallow a thousand Scimitars appeared, and they were ushered inside. The encasing structure was as thick as the diameter of the Earth, and the claustrophobic passage through it lasted over a minute.
When they emerged on the other side, they were dazzled by a wondrous sight. What should have been the empty blackness of interplanetary space was filled with the glow of an enclosed red giant sun. Hayden had the impression of being inside an impossibly large room, rather than a solar system.
This star was billions of years older than humanity’s own, and the unimaginable technology around them testified to an advanced race, perhaps as superior to mankind as humanity was to single-celled organisms. Hayden wondered if it was even going to be possible to communicate with them, or if they would recognize humans as sentient. They might simply view the crew as an infestation to be exterminated.
Scimitar was ushered toward a small planetary body suspended within the ruddy interior. It was only as the distance between them closed that Hayden realized it was an artificial structure constructed of the same materials as the outer wall. It seemed tiny against the enormity of the sphere. Scimitar’s instruments established it as the size of Earth’s moon.
This object, however, was pristine and reflected a ruddy glow from its grey, matte surface. The station, as Hayden dubbed it, was encrusted with what looked like buildings.
An opening formed in the side, and they were escorted inside by the three ships.
The interior was far different. The inner side of the shell was also covered in an endless city. Bridges extended for kilometres, forming a network converging at a spherical module in the centre of the space. Multiple small, strange-looking things that looked like bugs were attached to it. Some of the objects detached and swiftly exited through other openings like the one they had transited.
“This looks like some kind of dock,” said Hayden, breaking the long silence that had enveloped the bridge. He turned to the gobsmacked Gabriel and said, “Is any of this familiar to you, Doctor?”
“The records on Dulcinea were woefully incomplete. I knew there would be a civilization here, but I had no idea...”
“Well, we must be interesting to them,” said Cora, “otherwise, why bring us here?”
“Maybe we were collected, like a strange insect.” Images of Hayden’s biology class dissection labs sprang to mind. “I’m bothered that they haven’t tried communicating with us.”
“Communication requires some common reference,” said Gabriel. “Humans use sounds, facial expressions, and body language on multiple levels. We’ve developed sensitivity to these forms over millions of years of evolution.”
“But the Glenatat, or even the Malliac, might not be able to communicate with us because they do not share our adaptations to do so?”
“That is one theory, posited by the more pessimistic.”
“You have a different idea?”
Gabriel looked at Hayden like he was a slow student who didn’t understand the obvious. “Of course. I’ve dedicated my life to translating the writings left by this race on Dulcinea. The very fact that their written records are decipherable means we share a basis to establish contact, even if it is only by writing.”
He fixed Hayden with a hard look. “Humanity has become complacent about communication, having so long spoken only among ourselves. We advanced our technologies along one narrow path so that our intercourse is now encoded in agreed artificial protocols.”
He gazed at the image on the viewer. “We forgot about the power of the written word, preferring digital media in the delusion that it is the most sophisticated means of congress. If we were to lose our technology, centuries of human thought and achievement would be lost forever.”
He turned back to Hayden, his eyes ablaze. “But the Glenatat, far more advanced than we, understood this. That is why such an elder civilization as theirs left a permanent written record, likely on every world they occupied. My colleagues scoffed at my ideas. But our recent experiences, everything before our very eyes proves those fools wrong. That we located them through their records is a testament to our commonality with them.”
His passion cooling, he said, “Yes, Captain, we can communicate with them, using the alphabet they left for us in the Mu Arae system.”
“Well, Doctor, you will soon put your theory to the ultimate test.” Hayden indicated the growing image on the viewer. “It would appear we have arrived. I’m hoping they didn’t bring us here to tack us up on a collection board, so you better figure out the easiest way to ask them to take us to their leader.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Welcoming Committee
THE ONLY INDICATION they had docked with the hub was the departure of the three escorts. As they accelerated away, Hayden wondered about their weaponry, if any. Would the Scimitar have provided any kind of significant resistance? Hopefully his decision to passively assume their superiority didn’t merely delay their own destruction. After all, even an insect can sting its captor.
The truth was, going along with the Glenatat ships had been the only chance for survival. Trapped in an uncharted part of the galaxy, so far from home, return was impossible. Damaged beyond repair, Scimitar was doomed without help from someone. Now, his entire gamble came down to trusting an eccentric scientist’s controversial theories.
The Glenatat were perceptive enough to determine the location of one of Scimitar’s docking ports. Hayden thought of stationing some heavily armed rangers at the airlock but decided that might send the wrong message. Instead, after discussion with Security Chief Atan, he agreed to place her soldiers behind the first bulkhead and out of line of sight, where they still had a defensive tactical position. If everything went to hell when they opened the hatch, survivors could testify at his court-martial that he tried to defend Scimitar. If it came to that, he didn’t anticipate there would be any. On that more likely scenario, he’d ordered Cora to stand by in the engine room. As a last resort, she would collapse the confinement field around their microsingularity and destroy the ship.
Hayden, Gabriel, and after very strong insistence by both her and her father, Stella, were to be the only visible greeting committee for whatever lay beyond the docking port hatch. The doctor brought an elaborate board, crammed with Glenatat symbology to show to whomever they admitted. He hoped the aliens had eyes with which to read the note the scientist insisted was a message of peace and goodwill.
Anxious, Stella shifted her feet and absently rubbed her hands together.
Hayden asked quietly, “How are you feeling?”
“Are you serious? I’m pretty much the same as everyone aboard the ship.”
He worried his order that her sedative doses be discontinued might be a mistake. He wanted her at her full potential if the Glenatat proved similar to the Malliac, but Stella continued to insist she could not detect anyone but the crew.
Stella’s cold fingers intertwined with his, and she looked up at him. “I’m sorry for being so snippy. Don’t worry, I won’t collapse on you.”
He squeezed her hand and forced a reassuring smile, but he knew she could see through him. His heart pounded wildly, and his uniform stuck to him from perspiration.
He had no idea what he was doing. Only gut feel could guide him in whatever was going to happen. Nothing in his academy training had prepared him for anything like this. The lives of everyone depended on his ability to make the right choices, and he couldn’t even control his own pulse and respiration.
His earpiece buzzed softly, and he was informed that the final defensive preparations were in place. With no further reason to delay, he nodded to the security chief and waited as she opened the airlock.
The heavy door swung open, and they peered into the darkness beyond. A glint of light reflected from a shiny surface that slowly resolved into the being that entered.
Two metres tall, the thing floated above the deck. The blue, metallic machine c
onsisted of a central stalk that split at its top into three equally distributed necks. Each supported an eyeless, ellipsoidal head. Among them, the three heads commanded a full 360-degree view of its surroundings.
It advanced toward them, stopping a metre away. Shortly after, it was joined by two more of its kind. The normally roomy vestibule was uncomfortably cramped, but Hayden did not dare move lest any action be interpreted as hostile.
There was no way to tell if it had read or even seen Gabriel’s board. The creatures gave no sign they recognized the presence of the humans. They remained motionless, seeming to wait for something.
Stella gasped. Terror contorted her face. Her eyes darted about, settling on Hayden, a pleading look in them. Before he could react, her eyelids snapped shut and she uttered guttural grunts.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spied movement. He shook his head at Atan, silently ordering her to stand down. The last thing he wanted to risk was anyone’s actions being misinterpreted as aggressive.
Stella emitted awkward sounds that sounded like a baby discovering her voice. Gradually, grunts turned into tones that melodiously slid up and down her vocal range. Understandable, random words finally replaced the cacophony. Whispered at first, they became louder with each successive utterance, as if confidence was being built.
“Your species is unknown to us,” said Stella, distantly.
Realizing the creatures were somehow speaking through her, Hayden said, “We are called human. We come from a system in one of the outer spiral arms of the galaxy.” He hoped they had tapped into more than Stella’s vocal control and would understand the meaning of his words.
“We are aware of yourself perception. This being has supplied what we require. Are you prepared for us to communicate through her?”
“We are.” Hayden was torn between excitement at first contact and concern for what was happening to Stella. He prayed that his permitting her to join them had not doomed her to a horrible fate.
She suddenly relaxed and crumpled. Reflexively, he caught her. Cradled in his arms, she blinked several times before looking into his eyes.