Worlds Away (The Interstellar Age Book 3)

by Daniels, Valmore

  Michael approached the laser operator, but his eyes were on the readout. “What did it find?” he asked.

  “Kinemet,” the man said, and Michael gave him a sharp, questioning look.

  “Surely, you mean you detected the ELF radiation?”

  Shaking his head, the man pointed to the readout. “See for yourself.”

  Michael refreshed the screen and read the results. It was positive for the high-frequency radiation of Kinemet. The laser indicated there was a very tiny amount of the element, but left no doubt that it was there.

  Perhaps the story had been wrong, and there wasn’t an alien buried beneath the mountain. There were dozens of other possibilities to explain the presence of Kinemet, the least of which was an alien visitor.

  Seeing Michael’s expression, Alondo asked, “What does this mean?”

  “It’s possible there’s a natural deposit of Kinemet here. Perhaps a meteorite heavy with the element fell to the Earth a long time ago.” He shook his head. “For all we know, someone could’ve stolen some and buried it here sometime in the past twenty years.”

  Alondo and his sister shared a greedy look. “A gram of Kinemet is worth a million on the black market, what with the Emperor’s embargo. Perhaps, if we continue to search, we will find more than that.”

  Nadia turned and signaled for the excavator operator to move closer.

  Slapping Michael on the shoulder in congratulations, Alondo said, “It seems we may have found the pot of gold at the end of your rainbow.” He laughed. “An alien grave site. What a story! I knew you were trying to—how do you say it?—pull a fast one.”

  ∞

  It took the excavator operator nearly half an hour to remove enough of the rubble to reveal a narrow crevice in the face of the mountain. A blast of fetid air rolled out, and Michael had to hold his nose together with his fingers.

  From a case on his belt, Alondo produced a handheld spectrometer and leaned over to make himself small enough to fit in the crevice. In his free hand, he aimed a high-powered flashlight into the darkness within.

  Nadia, with her rifle, motioned for Michael to go next, and she followed right behind him.

  The cave was dark, and the flashlight cast eerie dancing shadows on the walls. They didn’t have far to go before the spectrometer lit up, indicating they were right on top of the source of the Kinemet.

  To everyone’s surprise, there wasn’t a deposit, or a vein from a meteorite, or even a buried cache of the kinetic element.

  What they found was a perfectly preserved body, covered in a thick layer of dust.

  The figure was short, like a boy, but the head was reptilian in shape, with a curved eye ridge that traced around the sides of its bald head. It had large, wide-spaced eyes and a beak for a mouth. Its skin was leathery; pale white and mottled with blue patches.

  Michael was the first to recover from the shock, and he knelt beside the creature, feeling at its neck and wrist for a pulse.

  It had to be the alien from Patli’s story. The Grace? If so, he’d died over a millennium ago.

  32

  Skanse Aerie :

  Gliesan System :

  “We’ve arrived,” Naila said, breaking Justine’s concentration.

  When she looked up at the front display, Justine saw that the Fainne was approaching the deep space orbital the Gliesans called Skanse Aerie.

  While Earth stations were largely built using basic architectural forms as their foundations—a collection of tubes, like Canada Station Three, or wheel-shaped with spokes, like Lucis Observatory—the Gliesan station looked like a starburst, with hundreds of spires extending from the central hub. It was an immense, brightly lit construction, set against the backdrop of the stars.

  “How many people are there?” Justine asked in wonder.

  “About one-hundred-thousand.” On the display, Fairamai pointed to a spot halfway up one of the long spires, which must have been nearly a kilometer in length. “I live there with my mate, Havena. He’s one of the gravimetric technicians.”

  “This is your permanent home?” Justine asked.

  “Yes.” Fairamai clicked her taloned finger on an icon at the bottom of the display. A series of images in a small sub-window showed several portions of the station: markets, offices, workshops, hallways, and hundreds of elaborate gardens. One of the last sets of images showed dozens of hangars with several spacecraft. “The aerie is primarily a military outpost, and also serves as the first stop for visiting emissaries from other worlds—the population is mainly transitory. Several spires are set aside for Aethers, since we cannot live on our home world.”

  As they approached the central area of the aerie, Justine spotted a landing bay. A tug emerged from it and latched on to the Kulsat shuttle. It towed the shuttle off to another section of the station.

  “Where are they taking them?” Justine asked.

  “We have … facilities to house them,” Fairamai said. Before Justine could ask, she added, “They are not the first Kulsat we’ve had here, but they will be treated according to our highest diplomatic conventions. Rest assured, they will not be harmed.”

  Relaxing at the Gliesan’s assurance, Justine watched as the Fainne completed its docking procedures. As they pulled into their assigned bay, Naila spoke through his communicator. The translation machine didn’t interpret for Justine, and she wondered if they were talking about her.

  When he’d finished his conversation, Naila said, “We will disembark now. An ambassador from Gliese has been assigned to escort you from this point on—he will meet you at the main gate. They’ve set aside quarters for you on the station while the Collection’s assessment council deliberates on your situation. I’m sure they will contact you for debriefing at some point, though I can’t say for certain: I am simply a pilot, not a politician.”

  Justine smiled. “How long do you think they’ll take to decide?”

  “I have no idea,” Naila said. He motioned to the communication console. “I’ve been given some instructions. Before we can let you off this vessel, I must formally inform you of the following:

  “On behalf of the Collection of Worlds, the Gliesan Parliament extends you, Major Justine Turner, political asylum and shelter from enemy attack. In return, you will not undertake to acquire our Aether technology, and you will give your oath that you will uphold all Gliesan and Galactic Laws. You will be restricted from traveling to or contacting any being in Sol System until said system is granted Emerged status and membership to the Collection of Worlds. Do you agree to these terms?”

  At first, Justine balked at the official words. What if the Collection decided Sol System wasn’t Emerged? She would be stuck out here, alone and away from home, for the rest of her life. What other choice did she have, though? She would just have to do everything in her power to convince the politicians to come to a favorable decision.

  “I accept,” she said.

  Fairamai put a feathered hand on Justine’s shoulder and made a soft whistling sound. “Welcome to Gliesan System.”

  ∞

  From the moment Justine had re-materialized in physical form aboard the Fainne, there had been a nagging thought in the back of her mind. She’d been so caught up in the excitement and wonder of making contact with an alien culture that it took her until now to realize something. Naila and Fairamai had been completely composed when she—an alien life form to them—had appeared on their ship.

  Was it so commonplace to meet a new species that there wasn’t any exhilaration left in the occurrence of first contact? Ah Tabai and Aliah had briefly jumped into Gliese System to give their report before heading to Sol System, but from what Justine gathered, they would not have remained in the system, since what they planned on doing was breaking galactic law. Certainly, they would have transmitted images of the ‘Solan beings’; but even at that, why would Naila and Fairamai have been so casual at Justine’s arrival on their ship?

  When Justine disembarked from the scout ship, and followed
the walkway to the main gate, she quickly learned why her appearance had not elicited any surprise in the Gliesan pilots: They had seen humankind before.

  Justine stepped through the doorway into the gate room, and a human male stepped forward, a huge grin on his face as he extended his arm toward her to shake her hand.

  Though there was the distinct possibility that humaniform beings had evolved from primates on another world, Justine knew this was not the case in this instance. The man could have been a brother or cousin to Alex Manez or Yaxche. He was most definitely Mayan in origin.

  “Good Morning, Major Justine Turner. I am Yoatl Cen, the Gliesan ambassador to Sol. I must apologize if my etiquette is not correct. I’ve never had the pleasure of visiting Sol System, and I have only been able to reference the data we received from Alex Manez’s ship.”

  Justine’s mind spun. There was so much conflicting information, she couldn’t process it. The Gliesans had spent a great deal of time telling her that Sol System was off-limits, and that interference was strictly prohibited. Yet, here before her, was evidence to the contrary.

  Numbly, she reached out to shake his hand.

  Yoatl, shorter than Justine by a few centimeters, nodded to her, a wide smile on his lips. “You must have many questions. I have even prepared a speech to explain it all to you. We have set aside quarters for your stay; you may wish to tend to personal needs or perhaps meditate for a few hours. When you are ready, I will give you a tour of the aerie, and bring you up to velocity before your briefing with the Collection representative.”

  “Thank you,” Justine said absently, and gathered her makeshift toga around her as she followed the—her—ambassador through the processing area and into the corridors of the station.

  One of the first things she noticed was the aesthetics of the station. The organic décor of the interior was a sharp contrast to the futuristic architecture of the outside of the station. Many of Earth’s space stations were designed for efficiency, and while there were attempts to make it seem a little more homey for the long-term residents, no one who visited any of the stations made of the mistake of forgetting they were in space.

  The corridors of Skanse Aerie station were anything but straight. The path wound left and right, sometimes gradually, sometimes sharply. Sculpted to resemble the walls of a canyon, the surface had rocky areas with outcropping housing plants and flowers. Justine was surprised when a small bird she thought was a decoration flapped its wings and flew off ahead of them. The floor rose and fell unevenly, and the base narrowed and widened randomly. Above them, a wide-open green-blue sky housed several cloud formations and the image of a small, red sun. The ceiling obviously used some kind of projection technology. Although the expense must have been enormous, the Gliesans must have believed it was worth it to create a natural-looking environment for those who were stationed on the outer rim of the system either temporarily or permanently. To Justine, it felt as if she were taking a stroll through a national park on Earth.

  “On the other side of the wall to our right is a transport conveyor for those carrying supplies, or for those who do not wish to walk the distance from the central hub to their destination. You can access them here.”

  He pointed to what looked like a sawed-off branch coming out of the wall. With a quick motion, he waved his hand over it, and a section of the wall vanished, revealing a short passageway to the transport tunnel. There were two pathways there; one leading up to the far side of the tunnel, the other descending a shorter distance to the lower level, where the floor itself moved slowly up the length of the spire. Though she couldn’t see the floor on the upper side, she assumed it held a similar moving floor heading the opposite direction.

  “The upper pathway,” she said. “How is it suspended?” There wasn’t any scaffolding propping it up, and she couldn’t see any wires leading from it to the ceiling of the tunnel.

  “There’s an electromagnetic field, though I can’t pretend to understand the specific technology; it’s not my area of expertise.”

  Stepping back into the main corridor, Yoatl gestured to another cutoff branch sticking out of the other side of the wall, though he didn’t wave his hand over it.

  “On the left side of the wall are the compartments for living quarters, working environments, industrial complexes, life support gardens, or storage facilities.”

  Justine said, “I’d love to see those gardens.”

  “Once we’ve completed the briefing, you’ll be assigned a security level coded to your biosignature. I assume you’ll be granted access to all the common areas—which includes the gardens—in addition to your quarters. You may visit any unrestricted areas at your leisure. Until then, you’ll need me to escort you around the station.”

  “Understandable.”

  He nodded and then gestured to the branch marker on the wall. “Temporary visitor quarters are inside here. They are fully equipped with every amenity you should require, though I’m sure once we’ve established your diplomatic status, you’ll be assigned a more appropriate dwelling.” Waving his hand over the branch, he took a step back when a portion of the wall vanished, and motioned for her to enter first.

  Inside, there was another corridor, though this one did not look quite as natural as the main pathway through the spire. The walls and floor were smooth and straight, but the ceiling still benefited from the projection of the sky. It was a very comforting illusion.

  There were several apartments along the corridor, and when they reached the last one, Yoatl opened the door for Justine and politely waited at the entrance for her to enter.

  “My wife, Ekthin, did not have much time to synthesize clothing for you; I hope the garment style she selected is to your liking. There is nutritional refreshment in the cold storage unit, a sonic shower, and a reclining platform if you wish to rest or meditate. I have reserved a private space in one of our most popular eateries where you can sample some Gliesan cuisine, and we can talk. I will return for you in two hours.”

  Justine shook her head. “But I have so many questions.”

  “I am sure everything you’ve experienced must be overwhelming, even for an Aetherbeing. You will benefit from some time to gather your thoughts and—how do you say it?—‘catch your breath’. Besides,” he said, giving her a conspiratorial wink, “I must report my first impressions of you to the Solan Society. Your arrival has created quite a stir among us, and I fear there might be an uprising if their curiosity is not satisfied.”

  She wanted to protest again, but Justine realized that he was right; too much had happened in too short a time. She needed a few hours to clean herself up and get her head straight.

  Whatever the Kinemet had done to alter her on a cellular level, one of the side effects was that her suprachiasmatic nuclei stopped inducing the sleep aspect of her circadian rhythm. While she’d only spent a small portion of her time since the Kinemetic change in physical form, she realized that quieting her mind was still a necessity. Even Alex had spent several hours a day in a meditative state. Since arriving in the Centauri System, the only time Justine had not been conscious was when the Kulsat had quantized her, and that had been more like a state of suspension than affording her any real rest.

  When she entered the small apartment, and Yoatl closed the door behind her, Justine’s first impulse was to review everything that had happened over the past few days; but when she saw the reclining platform set into a small alcove at the back of the room, she changed her mind. Instead of a flat mattress, there was a hammock-like bed that looked irresistible.

  One thing she had to do first, however, was clean up. She’d spent several days in the Kulsat terrarium. Yoatl had been polite not to mention how badly she smelled. There was another recess on the other side of the room, and Justine stepped out of her makeshift toga and entered the sonic shower. It was simple to figure out. A single lever turned the device on and off. She didn’t know if there was a time allotment, but she figured she must have spent a good half an hou
r letting the sound waves wash over her. Never in her life had she been so thoroughly scrubbed and cleaned.

  While she showered, she thought about sonic technology. Scientists on Earth had long thought that sound was one of the most powerful forces in nature. At the right frequency, sound waves could melt metal, shatter glass and rock, and—as she had witnessed—explode organic cells. For over a century, engineers had used sonic welding in electronics to bond metals. The nature of the star beacons suggested that the Grace had somehow tapped into the sound frequencies of all stellar objects, using that technology to help those attuned to it to navigate between the beacons. It was no wonder the Kulsat had developed sonic weapons and tools.

  If Justine listened hard with her newfound ability, she could hear more than the Song of the Stars, or the Music of the Spheres—she could hear something beyond. When she had time, she would have to discuss it with other Aetherbeings.

  Her skin tingled from spending so much time in the sonic shower. She turned off the device and stepped out.

  Naked, she went back to the reclining platform, crawled in and was surprised when the foam wrapped itself around her in a form-fitting cocoon. It felt as if she were floating, and she was able to put herself in a relaxed state very quickly.

  It was the very thing she needed, and she remained there right up until a soft chime sounded. She assumed Yoatl had come to retrieve her.

  “Just a moment,” she said, wondering if he could hear her. She took a one quick glance at the makeshift toga lying in the heap on the floor. No matter what the fashion in the Gliesan System was, she was sure it didn’t include long swaths of fabric tied haphazardly around her torso.

  A few moments searching was all it took before she found a small closet with half a dozen clothing selections. She picked the one that looked most appealing to her—she was always drawn to darker colors; perhaps a carryover from wearing her military uniform for so many years.