by PP Corcoran
In response, Joyce manipulated the controls once more and a line appeared on the schematic, weaving its way from one end of the ship to the other. “The R&D team believe that the weapon is tied directly into the ship’s engines, which might explain their sudden drop in speed just prior to the weapon being fired. It’s slow firing and leaves them at a small tactical disadvantage as they lose speed but, as the destruction of the Lagos Bay shows, if it hits its intended target the effects are devastating.”
The room stilled. The loss of the Lagos Bay and its crew of two thousand had been the largest single loss of life the Terran Defence Forces had ever suffered, but everyone in the room realized it would not be the last.
With a small sigh of resignation Rebecca went on. “Have we learned anything more that I should know about, General?”
“Yes, Madam President. The team have identified what they believe to be the main computer core. It’s not completely intact, but the marines got to it before it could be wiped. We’re hoping that it holds vital intelligence. Rather than try and work on it in situ, the whole section containing it is being removed from the ship and will be taken back to Stickney Base for analysis there.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day, General. Our lack of knowledge about ‘The Others’ is our biggest handicap by far.”
Joyce nodded his head in agreement. “I couldn’t agree more, Madam President, although I must remind you to be realistic. Deciphering the computer core will undoubtedly take time.”
Rebecca gave a small chuckle. “I understand, General. I’ll try not to get my hopes up too high. Now, is there anything else?”
With a sound like a grunt, Helset cleared his throat.
Rebecca spared him a smile. “Olaf, you would never have made a good politician.”
Helset returned her smile with one of his own. “Thank you for the compliment, Madam President.”
That extracted a laugh from Rebecca. “You’re welcome, Olaf. Now, how may I help?”
Helset sat a little further forward in his seat. “Madam President, the decision to intercept ‘The Others’ and defend Garunda, while undoubtedly the right thing to do, has left us in a bit of a precarious position.”
Rebecca could feel the involuntary frown on her brow forming. “How so, Olaf?”
Helset glanced at Joyce before continuing. “Our plans have always been cantered on defending Earth and Janus, but with our action around Garunda I feel that it has committed us to the defence of a third star system – a system that contains a native civilization for which we are now responsible, for better or for worse.”
Rebecca could feel the anger rising in her. “Are you suggesting that we abandon Garunda to its fate, Olaf, after the sacrifices that have been made in its protection?”
Helset raised both hands as if to ward off a physical attack from the President. “No, not at all, Madam President. Please don’t misunderstand me. I am as committed to defending Garunda as you are. Please accept my apology if that is how my words were interpreted.”
By the look of shock on the Secretary’s face, Rebecca realized that maybe she had over reacted a little. Getting control of her anger, she continued in a more even tone, “Apology accepted, Olaf. Please accept mine in return; I should know that you would never leave those people defenceless.”
Helset looked relieved. “Thank you, Madam President. My point is that our current force deployment does not take into consideration the defence of a third star system.” Helset touched the controls in front of him and the Holo Cube displayed three star systems. Under each of the systems, a list of TDF assets was displayed.
“Now, Madam President, as you can see, the TDF have First Fleet in the Sol system securing Earth and Second Fleet to secure Janus. The assets in 31 Aquilae protecting Garunda are currently drawn from BatFor Three of Second Fleet as BatFor One has been withdrawn to Deimos for repairs and refit. As things stand, it is the Joint Chiefs’ intention to continue to rotate a BatFor into 31 Aquilae until such time as construction of new hulls and training of personnel allows for 31 Aquilae to have its own dedicated BatFor.”
Helset gave Joyce a quick glance, one not missed by Rebecca. “Olaf, am I to take it that you and the Joint Chiefs are in disagreement?”
When Helset did not offer an immediate reply, Rebecca became apprehensive. “Olaf, would you like to tell me what is going on?”
Unbidden, Helset stood, took a few steps away from the table and stopped with his back to the President, as he looked out of the wide windows being rain lashed by the approaching storm. Helset turned to face Rebecca and stood a little bit taller. “Madam President, when we discovered the Gravity Drive, it opened the stars to humanity, and what we have found in ‘The Others’ could destroy us all. But not only us. We have found three other civilizations out there, one populating Garunda, for which we have intervened and saved from destruction, and another, Messier 54, which has, as far as we know, no idea that either we or ‘The Others’ exist. The third, the builders of the surveillance platform observing Garunda, we have no idea whether they are friendly or not.”
Helset began to pace up and down as he spoke. “The problem as I see it cannot only be solved by military means. In the longer term, ‘The Others’ will want to know what happened to the ships it sent to destroy Garunda. It makes more sense to build a fleet base in 31 Aquilae which will become the home to what I envisage will become Third Fleet. But we can’t just go building fleet bases in other people’s star systems, even if they have no clue that we exist. The problem needs a political solution.”
“And what is this problem that your eluding to, Olaf?” asked Rebecca.
Helset stopped his pacing and looked directly at the President. “We need to make first contact with the indigenous populations of both planets, Madam President. Garunda first because we’re already there, followed by Messier 54.”
The silence in the room was palpable and seemed to stretch for minutes, even though Rebecca knew it was only a few seconds. “You always come to me with the hard ones, Olaf. I’ll give you that.”
Haslet let a smile escape his lips. “If they were easy, Madam President, I would sort them myself.”
That induced a chuckle from Rebecca. “Indeed, Olaf.”
It was Rebecca’s turn to pause and think. The two men in the room waited patiently, knowing the importance of the decision that the President faced.
Rebecca refocused her attention into the room. “I’ll need to put this before the Senate, but I see the merit of your argument, Olaf. Leave it with me.”
Both men stood to leave, but Rebecca stopped them. “One more thing, Olaf. If we are to make contact with the people on Garunda and in Messier 54, it would appear prudent that more research into them is carried out prior to first contact. Could you get together with R&D and have a working group set up, before the Senate decides to do it themselves and lumbers us with a bunch of politicians looking to make a name for themselves?”
“Yes, Madam President. I’ll get right on it.” Haslet turned to leave but Rebecca stopped him with a touch to the elbow.
“Oh and one other thing, Olaf. I would like Dr Bath on the group.”
Both Helset and Joyce looked sceptical.
“Everybody deserves a second chance,” said Rebecca, by way of reply to the unasked question. With that, they left to carry out their president’s orders.
#
Aaron Beckett, a career diplomat, had spent over fifty years traveling around the world and the various human habitats dotted throughout the solar system. He had acted as a trouble-shooter for eight different presidents, negotiating everything from trade disputes to calls for more autonomy amongst the asteroid belt habitats.
Four years previously, as he turned seventy, Aaron had decided it was time to retire permanently. He moved from the hustle and bustle of Geneva to a small log cabin in the Rocky Mountains. Aaron’s wife, Margaret, had died the year before in a freak transport accident, they never had children; Aaron was alwa
ys too busy. Now he faced a life alone, a life which modern medical science promised would keep him active well into his early hundreds.
Aaron was sitting on his porch, reading a book in the late afternoon sun, when he heard the unmistakable sound of a hover jet approaching from across the lake. He remained seated as the sleek transport had landed on the shoreline and a single passenger disembarked, their face hidden in shadow by the slowly sinking sun behind them. It was not until the visitor was nearly at the cabin that Aaron was able to make out the face. That brought him out of his chair in a hurry, his book fell to his feet.
“Good... eh, morn... I mean... afternoon... Madam President.” The words tumbled out as best as Aaron could manage through his confusion.
A smiling Rebecca Coston reached forward, brushing away his outstretched hand, instead giving him a kiss on the cheek and a small hug. “It’s been too long, Aaron. How have you been?”
Aaron gave a small shrug and a lopsided grin. “Good, Madam President. Thanks for asking. I’ve been catching up on my reading and just enjoying the quiet life.”
“So what does a girl have to do to get a coffee around here?”
Aaron cleared some books from a bench seat, next to his own. “If you’d like to take a seat, I’m sure I could rustle up something.”
While Aaron made the coffee, Rebecca took a moment to admire the view. A gentle downward slope to the shoreline, the lake water reflected the setting sun as it sank slowly behind snow-capped mountains. Beautiful, simply stunning.
Aaron returned with two mugs of piping hot coffee for them and set them on a small table. “I suppose this isn’t really a social visit, Madam President.”
Rebecca picked up her mug and blew on the hot coffee before taking a sip. “No, Aaron, it isn’t. To be honest, I have a problem; and there isn’t anyone else I could think of that could solve it for me.”
With a deep sigh, Aaron took in the view for what he knew would be the last time for the foreseeable future. “How may I serve, Madam President?”
#
Orbit of Planet Garunda - 31 Aquilae
Two months on and Aaron found himself leading Earth’s first diplomatic mission amongst the stars. The President’s decision to include Patricia Bath, seen by many as controversial, was the key to unlocking the more commonly used languages on Garunda. Garunda’s languages had been unobtrusively recorded by the high-flying stealth drones, employed to gather them from the different nations living on the planet.
Aaron looked again at the distinctly reptilian-shaped form in the Holo Cube. The stump of what had been, in its genetic history, a tail was still obvious as was the elongated face covered in overlapping scales and the protruding pink eyes. Aaron’s attention, as always, was drawn to the hands. Five fingers with opposable thumbs, the unmistakable sign of Saiph DNA intervention.
The decision on how best to approach first contact rested with Aaron. After all, he would be the one on the ground, so to speak. The sheer number of identified nation states ruled out the feasibility of visiting each in turn. After many hours consultation with the leading lights in the field of sociocultural anthropology, Aaron concluded that the easiest way to reach the majority of the population was to identify the state that appeared to control the greatest land mass in proportion to population. Surprisingly, it turned out to be a relatively small island nation in the southern hemisphere. It appeared to be in control of over one third of the planet. Many of the anthropologists drew on the similarities between that small nation and Britain in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Aaron laughed to himself. He just hoped that they weren’t as stuffy.
The beeping of his wrist Comm interrupted his thoughts; Aaron touched a control on his desk. The face of Rear Adm. Analisa Chavez, Commanding Officer BatFor Three, Second Fleet replaced that of the native Garunda.
“Ambassador, your shuttle is prepped and ready for launch.”
Aaron had come to know the Admiral over the past couple of weeks spent aboard her flagship, he could see concern lurking behind her calm exterior. Aaron stood a little bit straighter. The decisive moment had arrived. “Thank you, Analisa. I’ll be along shortly.”
Chavez paused as she reached to disconnect the link, “Good luck, Aaron.” And with that, her face disappeared.
Good luck indeed, thought Aaron. I’ll need it.
#
As the shuttle dropped from the Nemesis class battleship TDF Mishima, Aaron Beckett threw a furtive glance across the aisle at Patricia Bath sitting opposite him. Her hands gripped the side of the seat so tightly that Aaron saw the whites of her knuckles.
Like many others, Aaron had had his doubts when informed that Doctor Bath was his official translator on this mission. He too had heard the media reports from the previous year; how her mistake in the translation of the Rubicon database led to an almost disastrous misjudgement by the military of the threat ‘The Others’ posed to Earth.
Calculations corrected, after the discovery of Patricia’s error, revealed the Saiph home world had been destroyed by ‘The Others’ around the year 1187 AD and not millions of years previously as estimated. Patricia’s detractors pointed to the Roman Empire - they existed on Earth for at least 1200 years before their eventual demise; there was, therefore, no reason to believe that ‘The Others’ were extinct, however, there was every reason to suppose they were still out there amongst the stars… waiting for a human ship.
Yes this mistake could have held huge consequences, but aside from it Patricia Bath had shown to be a remarkable interpreter. Aaron was no fool. He knew many of Patricia’s critics begrudged her successes, after all, she’d been selected by Valerie Hayes.
Valerie was notorious for finding exciting young talent to bring a fresh perspective to problems. She plucked Patricia from virtual obscurity at the ripe old age of twenty two to head up the Linguistics and Cryptology Division at Stickney Base on Phobos. Unfortunately, Valerie also collected political enemies. Her promotion to Special Science Adviser to the President meant many disgruntled colleagues; these colleagues saw protégé Patricia’s mistake as an opportunity to damage Valerie’s career… ending Patricia’s career was simply collateral damage.
They took advantage, created a media storm, made Patricia the scape goat and achieved their aim. Patricia Bath’s resignation was reluctantly accepted by President Coston.
Aaron understood the President presented a hard political shell to the world, but having known her for most of her adult life he also knew that underneath was a warm beating human heart, so when the media storm died, Rebecca made a point of giving Patricia a second chance by ensuring a place for her on Aaron’s staff.
So here they were, about to initiate man’s first contact with another sentient species and the majority of the groundwork had been completed by this slim, auburn haired thirty-one year old. Patricia had spent the last two months either locked away in her office or sleeping in her accommodation aboard the Mishima. It hadn’t escaped Aaron’s notice that she’d eaten all her meals solo in either her office or accommodation, politely refusing all staff invitations to share a male, particularly avoiding any young males.
Aaron was concerned Patricia was distancing herself, until now he’d kept his concerns to himself in the hope that she would come out of her shell but now with no change in her distant behaviour and the fact that first contact was imminent he was left with no choice but to intervene… somehow.
He reached across and tapped Patricia lightly on the arm, “Doctor Bath.” Patricia’s head snapped around to face him and Aaron was shocked by what he saw in her frightened childlike eyes, he quickly decided on a gentle approach and said softly, “Are you alright Doctor? I’m sure the shuttle will be landing soon and we’ll all be back on firm ground.”
Patricia slowly shook her head. “Believe me Ambassador it’s not the flight that’s bothering me. I’ve been working on the language program for nearly eight weeks and you’ve based your decision on where to make first contact solely on m
y interpretation of the available data. I…” her eyes watered and her body began to shake almost imperceptibly, “I just don’t want to let you down.”
Aaron felt anger well in him as he realized her meaning. The media had not only almost destroyed this young woman’s career but had quite clearly obliterated her self-confidence. All this time, working day and night on board TDF Mishima, she’d been in constant fear of failure, fear she would disappoint Aaron. He closed his eyes briefly, kicking himself with guilt that he hadn’t cottoned on to the underlying issues behind Patricia’s behaviour. Well this was a problem he could solve.
“Doctor Bath… Patricia, the President herself came to me and personally recommended you for this mission. If she has such faith in your abilities then who am I to question them?” Aaron reassured her. “When we land I expect you to stand by my side as my personal aide-de-camp, not just an interpreter. You have carte blanche to intervene and make any suggestions you feel appropriate.” Aaron smiled at the open mouthed dumbfounded look on Patricia’s face. “Close your mouth Patricia, you’ll catch flies.” Patricia closed her mouth with an audible click.
Aaron reclined with a contented smile on his face, he considered what the media would say about his choice of aide-de-camp… Screw them!
#
Patricia’s head was spinning. Chief Aide and Adviser to Aaron Beckett? Me? The repeater display in front of her sprang to life and halted her whirling thoughts. She got her first good look at the destination she had chosen as man’s first meeting with an alien species… Oh God, let it all go as planned! Patricia offered her silent prayer as the shuttle cleared the upper atmosphere and the electro optical systems threw their destination into stark relief.
She had chosen a relatively small island nation in the southern hemisphere located just off the coast of one of the three major land masses. At first glance there was nothing special about this island. The reconnaissance probes had flown over it and other more populated areas of Garunda but it was only when the data was compiled and forwarded for analysis that flags started popping up.