by S. H. Jucha
“They’re recovering both sets of bodies,” Harbour commented, when the second group was loaded on the platform. The Pyreans watched the energy of the platform couple with that of the dome, as each group left. They saw first one alien, a second, and then a third approach the edge of the dome. The darkened helmet on the one that Jessie had identified as the leader slid over the alien’s head.
“Well, now we know what the little ones look like rehydrated,” Darrin commented.
“Furry,” Belinda added.
“A smart one,” Jessie murmured. There was no doubt that the third individual had spotted the monitoring equipment, using some sort of device to study it, and pointed it out to the leader.
After more minutes of viewing, the last group of aliens boarded the platform, and an individual at the console hurried to join them before the group disappeared in a glow of bright blue energy.
In the study, silence ruled, before Harbour finally turned to Tully and asked, “What did you mean about a gate?”
“Gates were a theoretical proposal by physicists as a means by which people could travel between the stars. The concept postulated that two gates would be quantum entangled, and, as such, would always exist in a sort of intimacy with each other that would negate the enormous distances that they might be apart,” Tully explained.
“Essentially, travel between quantum-coupled gates would be instantaneous,” Hamoi added, his excitement showing.
“I would suggest that the concept isn’t so theoretical,” Harbour said, turning around in her seat. She stared at the dome’s bare deck, now devoid of bodies. She couldn’t get the little aliens’ furry faces and large eyes out of her mind.
“Well, there is one good bit of news. We don’t have to worry about contamination from the dead bodies anymore,” Darrin quipped. His delivery was dry, and no one laughed.
“I made a call to aliens,” Hamoi said in wonder, reflecting on his activation of the console.
“Don’t sound so proud of yourself, spacer,” Darrin reprimanded. “Didn’t you notice the four individuals who constantly guarded the other four, or, perhaps you thought those were compound sprayers they held in their hands?”
Quiet returned to the study, but the silence was soon interrupted by Jessie’s questions, “Why nearly a year? We know there was a fight at the dome, and it was destroyed during the struggle. These aliens, the little ones, must have been the visitors to this world. Regardless of whether they were the aggressors or the aggrieved party, they should have wanted to know immediately who had activated this end of their gate. So, why wait a year to return and take a look?”
“It does cast the little aliens in the more passive role,” Harbour reasoned. “Maybe they knew immediately that this gate was active, and they were ready to repel the attackers who they expected to flood through their end of the gate. Then, when no one came, they decided to take a look. It was an extremely cursory visit, and they left nothing behind.”
“That we know of,” Hamoi said.
When the group turned to look at Hamoi, he added, “I’m just saying that they had a tech at the console the entire time. Who knows what that individual programmed into the console for this gate to do? Maybe this dome is set to monitor us.”
-9-
Broadcast
Jessie and Harbour excused their people to resume their duties. The pair of them sat in their same chairs in the study, staring at the image Dingles left on the monitor. It was a dome swept clean of dust by the site’s activation and, now, swept clean of bodies by visiting aliens.
Neither captain had thought to ask the spacers to keep what they saw to themselves. It wasn’t the way either of them operated. But Harbour had instructed Dingles to block comms to Pyre: the stations, the ships, and the domes. Jessie had issued the same instructions to Ituau and Captains Erring and Hastings. For the moment, they had containment of what had been seen by those at Emperion.
“We don’t have much time to make a decision, do we?” Harbour asked.
“A day, at most. After that, those at Pyre will be wondering why they can’t reach us, and that might create more problems than we can handle,” Jessie replied.
“More problems than that?” Harbour asked, gesturing at the monitor.
“I don’t think there’s a bigger problem than that,” Jessie replied, tipping his head toward the image of the alien dome.
“Did you ever wonder if we were alone in the universe, as the only intelligent species I mean?” Harbour asked.
Jessie mulled over the question and then replied, “Prior to discovering the Triton dome, I’d never given it much thought. I think I didn’t dwelt on the subject because I was too focused on my work. And you?”
“Never gave it much thought either. I can’t imagine I’d find anything in the Belle’s library,” Harbour mused.
“What?” Jessie exclaimed in mock surprise. “No files labeled ‘In case of aliens, read this!’”
Harbour laughed and slapped Jessie’s shoulder, and he grinned unashamedly back at her. Harbour felt her power rise, and she hurriedly curtailed it before it could slip out.
Jessie’s face became still, and he stared at Harbour. “It tries to get away from you, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“Because our power is a part of our personality, empaths have to be ever vigilant. When we relax, we openly broadcast our emotions. It kind of takes the fun out of being around normals,” Harbour replied.
“Maybe it doesn’t have to always be that way,” Jessie said.
It was Harbour’s turn to stare at him.
“I’ve watched the Annie’s crew with Aurelia,” Jessie finally said. “Her powers coupled with her personality are a win-win situation for them. They revel in their wakeup calls. You can hear the creak and pop of joints, as they rise, but they wear these goofy expressions, as if none of it mattered.”
“Your tone says you don’t approve,” Harbour said.
“For them, I’m happy,” Jessie allowed. “I just don’t know if I could ever get used to it.”
“You feel that you would never know when you’re being manipulated,” Harbour surmised.
“Something like that,” Jessie replied.
“I imagine that without much training, Aurelia is broadcasting to the entire ship or shelter,” Harbour offered, “which means that you received her ministrations. Did that bother you?”
“It’s different with Rules,” Jessie replied, shifting to the crew’s name for Aurelia.
Harbour had noticed that Jessie often did this. In his mind, Aurelia was the young girl who had become Pyre’s political pawn, but Rules was his crew member. To Jessie, there were definitely different associations attached to the two names.
“You’re saying that you can trust an empath. It just depends on the individual,” Harbour said. She arched an eyebrow at Jessie, who caught it, but turned to observe the alien dome image rather than reply.
Jessie understood the point Harbour was trying to make. To him, there was a vast gulf between a young, naïve girl, with a big heart, and a mature woman, responsible for the safety of thousands and captain of a colony ship.
“What do you intend to do about it?” Harbour asked.
Jessie was still working on the distinctions between the two women and was caught off guard by the question. “What?” he asked.
“About the aliens who came and went,” Harbour said, pointing to the monitor. She sent the slightest amount of power, carrying her humor to Jessie. She hadn’t meant the aliens, when she asked him what he was going to do, and she’d enjoyed his moment of confusion. Jessie’s reactions demonstrated to her that he could accept a relationship with one empath, albeit on a simpler emotional level. The challenge for Harbour was that Jessie thought of Rules as a comrade, and she hoped to play a more intimate role.
Jessie felt the tickle of mirth, a contrast to Harbour’s neutral expression, and he grinned at her, catching what she’d done. “Yes, the aliens,” he said and nodded, turning back to the monit
or, even while he continued to smile.
“I think we have only one option,” Jessie said, after a moment of consideration.
“Broadcast Pyre-wide, as is our duty as captains,” Harbour finished for him. “Afterwards, we can talk about what we’re going to do about them.”
Jessie’s mouth fell open to hear Harbour quoting the articles. She grinned at him, tapped his shoulder, and headed for the main salon.
“Not funny,” Jessie called after her, and he heard her mellow laughter.
* * * *
Birdie set her cup of caf beside the bridge comm panel and belched appreciatively. Food aboard the Belle was a continual delight to the aging spacer. But better than the food was the company of spacers, once again. And, if that wasn’t enough, life couldn’t have become more interesting.
Birdie composed her broadcast that would alert all of Pyre, the stations, the ships, and the domes, to the forthcoming message from Captains Harbour and Cinders. When complete, she angled one of the colony ship’s enormous antennas in the direction of the JOS, ensuring the beam was wide enough to encompass the YIPS. There was no guarantee that the ships working the inner belt would receive the transmission, but the spacer rumor mill would take care of that soon enough.
Tapping a comm panel icon, the announcement was sent. Birdie picked up her caf cup, chuckling into it before she took another sip. Life had become pure pleasure to the aging spacer.
A few minutes before the appointed hour, Harbour and Jessie stepped onto the crowded bridge.
“It seems a great many of your ship’s systems are in need of monitoring, Captain,” Jessie commented drily to Harbour.
“Big ship … a lot of systems,” Harbour replied, in kind.
At the entrance of the captains, the spacers had crowded to the bulkheads to stay out of their way and hoping not to be thrown off the bridge. That’s when Jessie noted that a few faces belonged to his crew members. He winced and heard Harbour’s snicker.
“A lot of systems,” Jessie murmured, by way of apology, after realizing his gaffe.
Dingles was seated next to Birdie, and he readied the array’s imagery that would be sent as part of the broadcast.
On the hour, Birdie opened the comm system for the Pyre-wide broadcast. She hand signaled Dingles, who did the same to Harbour.
“This is Captain Harbour, with Captain Cinders,” Harbour announced. “We’re calling from the Honora Belle with another critical message for Pyrean citizens. At the end of our communication, we’ll broadcast a vid record to authenticate what we’re saying.”
Harbour tipped her head toward Jessie, who picked up the narrative. “A year ago, my crew discovered an alien site on Triton, which we told you about in our broadcast then. We left the dome and the alien bodies on its decking that we found there. In an effort to understand what the dome’s activation meant, I ordered a monitoring array planted, overlooking the dome.”
“In order to better facilitate the site’s monitoring,” Harbour added. “The Belle upgraded the equipment’s ability to transmit to the colony ship no matter the distance. Yesterday, nearly a year after the array was set up, it recorded something vital. A group of us watched eight aliens arrive inside the dome, recover the bodies of the dead aliens, and leave the same way they came.”
Jessie continued the announcement. “It’s tough enough to accept that we have proof that there are aliens in the universe. We understand how scary that might sound to everyone. But, on top of that, it’s equally important to understand how the aliens came and went. It wasn’t by ship. What you’ll see in the vid is a bright light shooting up from what we call the platform. It merges with the dome and then the aliens appear. They exit the same way. According to our engineers and techs, they believe the purpose of the dome is to create a gate between worlds. It’s a method of instantaneous transport.”
“We don’t know what the aliens’ appearance means to us,” Harbour offered. “As Captain Cinders said, it’s a great deal to absorb. We’ll continue to monitor the dome, and we’ll update Pyre, if conditions change. The vid record of the events at the dome will follow immediately. The Belle out.”
Birdie cut the bridge audio pickup, and Dingles began transmitting the vid record.
* * * *
In downside houses and offices, aboard ships, and in station shops, cabins and cantinas, Pyreans crowded around monitors to watch the vid of the aliens appearing and disappearing within the dome. Every part of the event was mind-boggling. There were aliens. They could travel instantaneously between the stars, and they didn’t look like humans. They were short and furry.
Rufus and Idrian had independently heard and watched the broadcast. Soon afterwards, they were contacted by Lise to attend her. Now, they were listening to her on a comm call with the commandant.
“Do you think they could have faked the recording?” Emerson asked.
“To what end?” Lise replied.
“To scare everyone away from Triton,” Emerson supplied.
Lise took a breath and blew it out. Idiot, she thought heatedly. “Why would they want that?” she asked.
“They might have found something valuable on Triton, and they want it all for themselves,” Emerson replied.
“You do recall that the Belle and Cinder’s ships have spent the entire past year at Emperion and sailing between that moon and the stations. If they’d found something of intrinsic worth at Triton, why aren’t they there?”
Emerson didn’t have an answer for that. The vid recording had rattled him to the point where he couldn’t think straight. Previous to witnessing the aliens’ appearance, he had plans that arranged for a comfortable life, just as soon as he caught the person who tried to kill him. But those plans seemed inconsequential in the face of the Belle’s recording.
“Commandant, get hold of your faculties,” Lise said firmly. “This is a perfect opportunity for us. The populace will want a strong hand to guide them. We can make a case for a united Pyre and a single leader!”
Anger seeped into Emerson’s mind, pushing aside the fear that had resided there since the viewing. “And I suppose that leader would be you, Lise?” he asked.
“Who else is qualified?” Lise replied smoothly, without missing a beat. “And I’ll need a dependable commandant to keep order in security and ensure that only our enemies are investigated.”
Finally, Emerson’s brain was fully engaged. He didn’t trust Lise. There was a part of him that wondered if Lise wasn’t behind the intrigue to have him killed by Lily Tormelli, his coin-kitty. “I believe we have unfinished business, Lise. You owe me a list of streak distributors. Take care of that first, and then we’ll talk about the future leadership of Pyre.” Emerson quickly ended his call downside.
“He hung up,” Lise announced, throwing her comm unit in disgust on the desk.
“Lise, it might be premature to push for a change in Pyrean leadership,” Idrian suggested. “Everyone is shaken to the core about what the Belle recorded.”
“You should hear yourself, Idrian,” Rufus laughed harshly. “All I’ve heard from frightened individuals are words that speak of the vid recording, what the Belle recorded, or the colony ship’s transmission. Not one of you has the guts to say aliens. So there are aliens. So what?”
“And that doesn’t bother you at all?” Idrian asked, incensed by Rufus’ attitude.
“You saw the same recording I saw, Idrian,” Rufus replied. “Kick that sharp mind of yours into action. The dome is a gate, okay! Cinders explained that the platform was the receiving and sending part. It accommodated a small group of furry creatures.”
“What’s your point, Rufus?” Idrian asked.
“Just exactly how are the little furry things supposed to bother us?” Rufus retorted. “They arrive at the Triton dome, without a ship. That means they can’t get off the moon.”
“They could bring supplies through and build a ship,” Idrian proposed.
“Which would take them how long?” Rufus shot back.
“And how would they move the ship’s massive engines from inside the dome to the assembly location. If anything, we have a lot of years before they’re a problem for us, if ever.”
Idrian thought on what Rufus was saying, and it occurred to him that there was a hole in Rufus’ logic. “You’re probably right, Rufus,” Idrian replied calmly, settling casually into his chair’s back. “That is, of course, if no one goes to help them.”
Rufus started to object, but he was cut off by Lise’s whispered, “Oh, for the love of Pyre.” Lise’s eyes were locked on Idrian, as she added, “Those fools at Emperion.”
“They wouldn’t,” Rufus objected.
“They would,” Lise riposted.
-10-
Distributors
“I don’t know what’s worse … thinking about those aliens who appeared at Triton or knowing what Emerson’s doing with Lise Panoy,” Lieutenant Devon Higgins remarked, when he finished playing the latest recording of the commandant’s downside call for Major Liam Finian.
Devon had been ordered to secretly record Emerson’s communications, when Liam first suspected intrigue between the commandant and then-governor Markos Andropov. Those suspicions had proven to be correct. Even though Markos and his head of security, Giorgio Sestos, were arrested and convicted of their crimes, Devon had never stopped the illegal recording of Emerson’s downside calls.
“We can’t do anything about the aliens,” Liam replied. “Let’s focus on the commandant. He’s still after the streak distributor’s list, which means he’s never stopped running his own investigation into Lily Tormelli’s suicide. And, as long as Lise Panoy’s expedited shipping request is on hold, she’ll acquiesce to his request.”
The two security officers were ensconced in Devon’s office, with the door locked and the wall of window glass darkened.
“I feel like I’m sitting on a rich ore strike but don’t have any means of extracting the metal and making some coin,” Devon complained. “What’s the good of knowing the game the commandant’s playing if we can’t use it against him?”