329 Years Awake

by Ellie Maloney

  “I haven’t gone to bed, Derek.”

  Ny’s hoarse voice gave away more than she wanted.

  “Mom, is everything alright?”

  “Son, can you please come over? We need to talk.”

  “Sure, but what is it about? Are you feeling ok, ma?”

  “I’m fine, it’s not so much about me. It is about your father.”

  8

  KISMET

  YEAR 2325.

  MONROVIA, LIBERIA

  Derek was driving on a freeway from Congo Town to downtown Monrovia, where his mother owned a fashionable loft with an ocean view. The freeway weaved along the coastline, where an endless body of water threw angry shards at the coast, as if saying: “I despise you!” The ocean and the shore are eternal antagonists.

  Walking into Ny’s apartment, he was pleasantly greeted with the earthy scent of herbs and aromatic oils tucked in myriads of little clay jars all over the living room. The coffee table was decorated with giant candles which still burned bright despite the morning sunlight overpowering their timid lumenocity. “I came as soon as I could, Ma.”

  The digital clock on the shelf marked 7:45. Ny’s eyes were puffy, her face gave that motionless stare that indicated a person after the first wave of distress had passed, as an aftershock of exhaustion took over the body. Derek sat beside her and tenderly kissed her on the cheek – he afterwards realized it tasted salty. “Derek, I know what happened to your father. At least I am about to find out.”

  Ny motioned to the holo-recorder on the coffee table - the recording on pause.

  “You know something about his disappearance? But… How?”

  “Last night I had a visitor. Her name was Anika Borgess. Apparently, she worked with Otis in the Royal Moroccan Fleet headquarters in Rabat.”

  “I thought dad was a history professor.”

  “He was. We worked together. The military recruited him in the wake of the First Contact.”

  “I cannot believe it! All these years, the missing person’s reports, private investigators, archives… Why didn’t she come forward earlier?”

  “She said she couldn’t. The materials were classified, and the recording was taken away from her.”

  “So, what did you find out?”

  “You didn’t miss much so far, I am still listening.”

  Ny briefly retold the content of the recording up to that point.

  “I can’t wait to hear more!” exclaimed Derek.

  “Me too, son, me too.” Ny beckoned him to resume the recording.

  DAY D+86

  Today a major development occurred. Apparently the Unkari ships were noticed in the orbit of Titan. Our briefing was unusually long, during which we learned our telescopes which observe the area around Titan recorded the Unkari fleet appearing out of thin air. One second there was nothing, and then, they appeared one by one. Where did they come from? Did they simply remove some cloaking device, or did they use some wormhole or other method to instantaneously materialize in our space, no one could tell. The nervous energy here is palpable. Nobody seems to know what to do or how to explain any of this, and this helplessness gets on everyone’s nerves.

  DAY D+92

  It is still a waiting game. I am more and more convinced that the Unkari are toying with us. This suspicion is so solidified in me that I am unable to see things any other way. I am biased now; and thus, I am useless. But I cannot leave either. As a side note, I think the military is experimenting on us with a new type of torture - the Club Sandwich torture. If that is our key weapon against the enemy, we shall prevail.

  DAY D+93

  A major development was announced today after the dinner, when we were all summoned to the conference hall. We were presented with an audio recording, on which, in numerous Earth languages, the aliens requested negotiations. This probably was too much to handle even for the military, and the decision was made to make this information public. As always, the military PR machine milked this to their benefit and added a little bit to the original alien message. Namely, they said that the aliens made it a mandatory condition for the negotiations that peace on earth among various battling fractions was restored.

  DAY D+94

  It was 6 am in Rabat when we were summoned to Conference Hall #1 to receive the instructions. I didn’t know then that I would be leaving this top-secret military facility headed for Reykjavik with a group of researchers to meet with the aliens. Someday these notes will make a fine book, but I may not live till the day they declassify the whole thing for a book to go public. Since I don’t have any children of my own, my legacy has no real meaning to me. Still, I will continue recording in the hope it gets to Ny someday, regardless of what happens to me.

  Anyhow, Reykjavik was chosen by the Unkari as a place for the diplomatic neutral zone. I suspect that the aliens had a great deal of inside knowledge when they chose this area for the negotiations. Reykjavik is uninhabited and isolated, with the temperatures on the surface never rising above -50C. Humans abandoned this area since 2190, when a misguided effort in dealing with the global warming resulted in a chemically facilitated Ice Age. Ever since, the majority of the world population moved to the orbital stations, and the Earth Nations began an active space colonization program. Over the past 100 years, the Big Ice has showed signs of recession, and overall, we are hopeful that someday humanity will return and re-inhabit places like Europe and North America, but it will not happen in my lifetime. This is why the choice of Reykjavik was brilliant. No civilians can make their way to these ice-covered wastelands of extreme temperatures and snowstorms. The only way to get there is via private air transport, and obviously not many people can afford that, not to mention the dangers associated with piloting in zero visibility and extreme weather, so the issue of crowd control resolved by itself.

  It’s past midnight here, we arrived to Reykjavik about two hours ago, and are resettled in the temporary habitation modules, which is a fancy word for a six-person igloo with sleeping bags, a mobile kitchen and a sanitation unit. It’s cramped, and my neighbors are cranky and anti-social scientific types with egos that simply do not fit in such tight quarters. I should also add, all five of them fought to get on the team to Reykjavik, unlike me. Mans and Andrea are from the 3rd Orbital Colony. They are the descendants of Norwegian and Spanish immigrants, evacuated to the Orbital stations. They were career military consultants in numerous overlapping fields, but from what I understand, astrophysics was their main focus. Tess was a native Nigerian, a renowned expert in biology and biochemistry. Liam was an officer of the Royal Moroccan Fleet, and although technically he was a military medical doctor, I suspect that he was here to watch over us. He exudes this particular forced friendliness that makes anyone want to stop all conversations when he walks in.

  Finally, the most mysterious team member here is Anika. Unbelievable as it is, she is from the 4th Orbital. This space colony is headed on their own course of evolution, and rumor has it that the genetic enhancements they practice are beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. Anika is probably in her early 20s, something between a fashion model and a world-class athlete. I’ve heard that the Fourthers are obsessed with knowledge, and Anika is no exception. She makes Mans and Andrea sound like high school dropouts. And the thing is that Anika seems to be ok with humiliating them. I wonder if she does it intentionally, either that or the lack of social contact with the rest of humanity that the Fourth practices is the real cause. Yes, she is clueless, and yet, I would be proud to have a daughter like her.

  The first diplomatic meeting is scheduled in two days. Our mission is to sit in the audience and make all kinds of observations. Liam is hinting at the security risk and makes everyone jumpy about it, but I doubt anything would happen to us at that point. If they wanted to harm us, they’ve had more than enough opportunities.

  DAY D+97

  Wow… Where do I even beg
in? Today was the day. We met with the Unkari delegation. In short, what happened today, made the generals reheat that flippant threat of charging me with treason. After what happened today during the meeting, I was summoned to the interrogation office and questioned for three hours by numerous nameless people in suits. All of them were asking one question: what is the nature of my relationship with the Unkari? Of course, I have no relationship with these aliens, but what happened today made me suspect that we all together are missing a bigger picture – we are all assembling a giant puzzle with a handful of pieces and without the guiding image of the end-result.

  ***

  The meeting room was equipped to the specifications transmitted by the aliens. It looked like a large lecture hall with all of the scientific community settled in the audience. The seats were equipped with integrated standard-issue pads. We received a unique login code that allowed us to access various databases and keep the records. My quick estimate was that about 150 scientists were present in that room this first day. My own relevance was quite relative, but since I posed a threat of exposing the military mistake during the First Contact, I was dragged alone. Formally I was an expert on alien cultures, xeno-anthropology as they called it. How I received this title? Due to my book about the portrayal of alien cultures in science fiction. So in reality I was an expert of made-up aliens. How this expertise was going to be relevant with the real aliens, was a complete mystery to me. The center of the room was equipped with a cylindrical area which was connected to the floor on one end and to the roof on the other – a ‘fishbowl’ tube if you wish. The roof was retractable - this is how the aliens were supposed to show up. The security was stationed every few meters around the room, and I suspected that more of them were present mixed among the civilians.

  As we were explained during the briefing, the cylinder was equipped with special climate conditions, to the specs provided by the aliens. The chamber was filled with a gas composition based on methane and some other elements. It was maintained at an astonishing temperature of -140C, which was 30C warmer than the aliens requested, but apparently we were not able to comply with this requirement on such a short notice. If the cylinder’s integrity was compromised, the difference in atmospheric pressure and temperature in the room and in the cylinder could be life-threatening. That is why all projectile weapons were removed. The soldiers were only equipped with shields. Whether the shields would hold against the aliens, nobody could tell, and any guess was merely a speculation.

  The room was incredibly quiet. Everyone readied their recording devices and anticipated to witness history in the making. At one point the room was flooded with soft white light and we all closed our eyes taken over by a surprise. It was on the video records that we saw what happened. Instead of entering through the retractable roof, the aliens appeared from thin air and landed on the floor, which all of a sudden became elastic, like stretched rubber, and they softly landed on its bouncy surface. Whether they manipulated space or the matter of the floor, we have no idea. When the light subsided, we opened our eyes and saw three aliens, two meters and change tall, wearing spacesuits and those horrifying three-eyed helmets. They were standing upright, like humans, but had six limbs in total: two for legs and four for arms, if you could call it that. The climate-controlled chamber was equipped with microphones and we could hear from speakers placed around the room, the sound of their alien greeting. It sounded like a metallic screeching. But then they turned on a device that translated the message into English – which had been agreed upon as the official language of communication with the Earthlings.

  “We come in peace,” said one of the aliens, who we thought was in charge. “We are looking forward to a treaty between your and our species. If you display peaceful intentions, this union will be beneficial to both races. If you attack us again, we have the power to destroy you, but most likely we will simply terminate this relationship and watch your species on your course to self-destruction”.

  A Vice-President of the Earth Nations, Eduardo Akura stepped forward and addressed the aliens. “Dear guests, we welcome you to Earth, the cradle of human civilization. We hope that from now on our relationship will be free from misunderstanding and we can start all over again, moving toward the goal of our mutually beneficial treaty.”

  The alien speaker looked to his right and received a sign from his peer, this was when I realized that the real leader of the delegation was the alien who stood to the right and remained silent. This insight made me feel uneasy, because it was likely that the leader of this alien delegation did not consider us worthy of a personal address. “Your proposal is acceptable, human, and we, in turn, suggest establishing a cross-cultural exchange group that would allow us to learn more about each other” – the translation came from the speakers. A silence established after the last words of the translation came through, and Akura decided that it was his turn to speak.

  “Your proposal is acceptable. We will establish a group of the best representatives of our race: scientists and politicians to work with your representatives.”

  The alien again looked to the peer on his right, and they exchanged some non-verbal messages, after which he spoke. “This proposal is unacceptable.” The audience gasped all at once. “We will choose two representatives among those present in the audience.”

  “This is not the best idea…” began a flabbergasted Akura.

  “This is a critical point in our negotiations. Don’t make another mistake, human representative. The outcome of our negotiations depends on your decision to comply with this request.” Akura stood in bewilderment, frowning his eyebrows and scratching an itch on the back of his head that was not there. In his earpiece he received a message from someone outside the room, and finally he spoke.

  “We agree. Who do you choose?”

  The alien spokesperson raised one of his limbs and projected a beam of concentrated light into the crowd. When the first pick fell on Anika, I wasn’t surprised. She was smarter than anyone in the room, so it only made sense. Anika was sitting in the same row, about five meters away from me. Then the light started travelling in my direction and finally stopped dead on my seat, flooding my eyesight.

  “We have made our choice,” spoke the alien. “Tomorrow we will take these two humans to our ship. Have them ready in this room in exactly 24 standard Earth hours. We will broadcast the technical details later.” And without long good-byes, the trio disappeared from their cylindrical chamber in a flood of white light.

  ***

  I’ve spoken to Anika, and she thinks that the choice was random and that they are trying to just stay one step ahead of us. Although it makes some sense, I firmly suspect that there is something else to this choice, but have no way of verifying my suspicions. I have 4 hours left to sleep, before I need to get ready for the visit tomorrow. The med bay gave us some sleeping pills so that we don’t waste time counting sheep. For once I think it was a good idea. As soon as I save my log, I will take the pill and try to get some rest, god knows, I will need energy tomorrow.

  DAY D+98

  It is late in the evening now. I spent a full day going through one shock after another: first, meeting the aliens on their ship, and second, being interrogated upon my return. I am between a rock and a hard place. At this point I feel that if the aliens were not so insisting on my importance to the diplomatic mission, I most likely would be thrown in jail again.

  DAY D+567

  I haven’t kept this log very well for the past year. A lot has happened. Today was the day when I received the treatment. Apparently, I am a carrier of a unique genetic ability. Unkari call it oscillation. Ny, if you ever get this log, well… remember my tsunami dreams? I know the truth now. Through the recurring dreams, in which I repeatedly went through multiple horrible deaths, my brain tried to exercise preparing to activate the oscillation. Through the treatment that I received today from the Unkari, the oscillation ability in my brain was ac
tivated. What is oscillation, I bet you’ll ask? Now that I received the treatment, I will be able to change reality. Small things so far. For example, if we went to a casino, now I would be able to predict red or black on the roulette. Every time, no failure. When I get stronger and master my ability a bit better, I will be able to predict even a zero. Ny, we would be rich! I am currently among the Unkari research team, on their ship orbiting Titan! The views here are incredible, Ny.

  We are close enough to the surface to see the methane oceans and lingering methane fog that gives the most beautiful auroras you’ve ever seen! I am here with this kid I told you about, her name is Anika. Apparently, she deciphered an ancient language from the 15th century that turned out to be one of the Unkari dialects. Now she is the only human who can speak Unkari, and that is why they requested her as a liaison as well. The problem is that our government became very difficult to deal with. Every time Anika and I returned from our meetings with the Unkari, we were interrogated, required to write lengthy reports and asked questions we had no answers to.

  It’s not like the aliens opened us the secrets to the universe! It was not like that at all. Usually we were paired with an Unkari, who would talk to us about what it’s like to be a human. They wanted to understand us. Honestly, even to this day I have no idea if we walked ourselves into the largest trap in human history, or if this is a great opportunity for us. The Unkari claim they want to reach an agreement with us – to share our space in the galaxy. Apparently, their galaxy, Sagittarius Dwarf is being absorbed by the Milky Way. In a few million years, their home world will collide with the solar systems of our galaxy. I know, it makes little sense – the event is so far away that not only will humans likely become extinct before that time, but even our stars will be gone. Why negotiate with us? Why move into our space now? I am asked these questions every time the military interrogates us – and I have no answers. What I couldn’t tell the military is about this oscillation gene. Don’t judge me, dear. They would lock me up like a lab rat. And if you know about human history as much as I do, you will easily imagine what a witch hunt is coming up for those with the gene. We will be hunted down, rounded up, and dissected in every imaginable way, honey. I had a choice: to trust humans or to trust aliens. History will show if I was right, but I know enough about human history to not trust our military. Call it genetic memory, if you will.