The Lost Colony Series: Omnibus Edition: All Four Volumes in One

by Andrew C Broderick

  “But they still got her with that stun shot, even after she’d been knocked out. Hardly the behavior of a non-aggressor.”

  “If they’d really meant to harm them, they could have done it in a thousand different ways before we got there,” John said. “It’s a miracle they were all still alive when we arrived. The V’Sha took care of them, even though they were holding them captive.”

  “Tsk.”

  The silence between them was tense, as the news played the V’sha’s words over and over.

  “Well, I’m not letting those little silver balls of fun interrupt my dinner,” Nandi grumbled, as she headed back into the kitchen.

  Joey was heading towards the garbage can with his plate. He hurriedly headed back to his seat as they entered. Nandi shot him a look that said, I know what you were up to, young man. Joey’s face fell, and he began to eat reluctantly.

  John turned around to face the wall screen again, still standing behind the couch. “Here is our science correspondent, Perry Marshall.” A gray-haired and bearded man appeared. “Perry, what are your first impressions of this situation?”

  “The strength of the signal is high enough that it seems to be directed specifically at Earth, rather than being broadcast in all directions, with the corresponding drop off as the square of the distance. This would be almost too weak to detect. Of course, it’s now a given that they know virtually all there is to know about humanity, since almost all entertainment and encyclopedic media ever produced was stored aboard Hercules, to which they had unrestricted access. This, of course, explains their abilities to speak English and probably all other languages. No watertight theories yet exist as to why they need humans for their survival…”

  John turned and looked at the bookshelf in the corner. John had eyes for only one volume. It was entitled The V’Sha: A Definitive Guide. The authors’ names read: Chris Fox, Grace Houren, Graig Martelle, and John Rees.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  “Sounds like you two had the most drama,” Craig Martelle said, from one pane in a mosaic of faces on the giant, curved 3D display in John and Nandi’s large living room.

  “Yeah, it was only about an hour after John talked to you that the mayor ordered New York City evacuated,” Nandi said.

  “The power went out,” John said. “We couldn’t get the vee-tol bay doors open, and hundreds of people were all trying to get out at once. I eventually cranked them open by hand. Then everyone was jockeying to try and fly out while the neighboring buildings were catching fire. I hand to fly by hand to get out and away through the swarm trying to evacuate.”

  “Did you make it to Carbondale?”

  “Yup.”

  “Thank God!” Catherine Goldberg said, from another pane.

  “Yeah, no kidding.”

  “I’m calling the meeting to order,” Craig said. “Since the IDSA is now defunct, and NASA is teetering on the edge, the eighty of us here who’ve actually been to the Constantine system will have to take the lead in figuring out what, if anything, mankind is going to do in response to the V’Sha’s request. So, I’m going to hand the floor over to Catherine.”

  “Thanks Craig. Well, as everyone knows, the initial curiosity and excitement about who the V’Sha really are peaked at about two years after our return, and then started to wane as the world’s troubles took over. We now have a unique opportunity to act as a lightning rod to channel the world’s renewed curiosity about this alien race. If we can get governments to work together, it may just be possible to put together a mission to Constantine.”

  “Am I the only one concerned about the danger here?” Darius said. “Let’s face it, the V’Sha don’t have a great track record.”

  “My thought on that is we’d talk to them from a few hundred thousand kilometers away,” Catherine said.

  “What if they warp to where we are though?” Chris Fox said.

  “If they had the warp drive they’d probably have been to Earth by now,” Craig said. “So since they don’t, we’d see them approaching from a long way off.”

  “Good point.”

  “I’d estimate the cost of recommissioning the Falcon and actually flying the mission at between ten and twelve billion dollars,” Craig said.

  “Honestly, I think the chance of governments financing this mission are very low,” Nandi said. “They’re hard pressed to maintain control of their own countries.”

  “We could always approach Andrew Vandenberg,” Catherine suggested.

  “I have more than a few problems with that guy,” John growled. “He profited from the suffering of billions by shorting every stock market in the world when the fighting really started.”

  “Yes, he did,” Craig said. “I’m not his greatest fan either. But, I’ll ask him anyway. If we want to talk to the V’Sha again, he may be our only hope.”

  * * * *

  The meeting was over, and the living room of John and Nandi’s rented house once again reflected the peace and tranquility of Carbondale, Illinois.

  “Well, I never thought I’d see another interstellar mission in my lifetime,” John said. “Things have been going downhill for so long it kind of becomes ingrained in your mindset, you know?”

  Nandi nodded. “Pessimism feeds on itself. I can’t remember the last time I could see things getting better.”

  John perched on the edge of the couch, nervously broaching what he knew was a sore subject. “So, say there was another mission to Constantine. I’d quite like to go on it. It’d be a lot safer than before…”

  Nandi crossed her legs and sighed. “We’ve been over this already. You have kids now. Even though Jordan’s grown up, he still needs you too. It’s too risky.”

  “But, the ship wouldn’t even have to get anywhere near the V’Sha.”

  “John, for an intelligent man, you can be very dumb sometimes. They could send some kind of stealth missile that releases an EMP when it gets close to the ship, and nobody would see it coming. They’re sneaky.”

  John’s shoulders slumped. “Let’s just say, hypothetically, that I was a grown man and capable of making my own decisions…”

  “Oh, don’t give me that bunch of nonsense again. Of course you’re a grown man. But, your decisions have to revolve around your family, and you need to put their needs first. That’s what grown men do.”

  John nodded, and didn’t answer. She was right. That was what grown men did. He looked ruefully at The V’Sha: A Definitive Guide, which was lying on the coffee table. Nandi turned to him. “I know you’re more anthropologist than engineer these days, but you can get all the information about them when the mission returns. You’d have all of the benefits with none of the danger. And if the worst did happen, the boys and I would still have you.”

  John pursed his lips. “I suppose you’re right. No, scratch that. You are right. It is too dangerous for someone with responsibilities.”

  “If it was a mission to anywhere else, I’d be fine with it. Just not Constantine.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Two years later

  John felt a surge of deja vu as he looked up at the massive bulk of the Falcon in her cavernous hangar in Kiruna, Sweden. He chuckled as he thought about how many years it had been since a much younger, more brash, and far more desperate version of himself vied for a place on board Atlas, in this same building. He had grown up a lot since then, in part because of the events of the rescue, but also because of the unconditional love of a strong woman who wouldn’t take any crap. Nandi hadn’t always given him what he wanted in a mate: a reflection of himself. And that was good. He had been forced to face things about himself that he would have continued to sweep under the carpet otherwise. The pain of losing his parents had lessened over the decades, as he had allowed himself to accept love—the kind that could mend hearts. And then there was Ricky. John and his younger brother had drifted apart after his father’s murder, and didn’t speak at all for over five years. They now had a relationship; a good one, though not especi
ally close. John had taken his family to San Diego a few years ago to see them. It was good to catch up, and for the kids to get to know their cousins. But, he and Ricky lived very different lives, and that was the way it had stayed.

  And who would have thought back when Atlas was being hurriedly prepared to fly that the world would be in so much more turmoil now, with some parts of it in danger of total collapse? And the IDSA would no longer exist, and a trillionaire would rent out the mothballed Falcon to go back and see the V’Sha! Life could be a very weird thing indeed.

  John watched a forklift drive up one of the ship’s four large cargo ramps, exactly the same as the one that half their crew had jumped out of like paratroopers a generation ago. John walked under the ship’s vast hull to its main staircase, and headed up. He had spent a lot of time aboard Falcon, preparing her gravitometer array. Ben Sanchez, who had been denied his chance to fly at the last minute, was now Chief Navigation Engineer, and loving every minute of it. Nikolai, having been John’s superior, was now Ben’s subordinate. Nikolai wanted to see that Ben had his day in the sun, and that it was as good as possible. So, he’d put Ben in charge. John smiled. It was so like Nikolai. Above him, as Chief Engineer, was Kiara Young, who had also held that position aboard Hercules. And at the top of the heap was Captain Daniel Golden.

  John headed to the warp navigation equipment bay. “How’s it going?” he asked brightly.

  “It’s a pain in the ass!” Nikolai grunted, in the manner of an oil-drenched mechanic wielding a large wrench while wrestling with a recalcitrant machine. “Without the baseline data, we’re going to have to do all the calibration in space. All we can go on are estimates.”

  “If only they hadn’t lost the damn data file in the intervening years,” Ben grumbled.

  “You’ll have to do optical navigation to get somewhere far enough out to calibrate finely,” John said. You’ll have to, not we’ll have to, he thought, with a twinge of regret. He’d have been happy with even the lowliest engineering role if it meant he could go. Truth was, he was now more interested in studying the V’Sha than being a space engineer. But he was okay with staying on Earth. Life with Nandi and the kids was wonderful, and there would doubtless be an immense trove of data to go through once Falcon returned.

  “I’ll work up an initial model you can use as a temporary baseline file,” John said, snapping out of his reverie. “That’ll make it easier once you’re out there.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Ben said. His mistake in loading the wrong file onto Atlas’ systems twenty-two years ago had never been talked about, and didn’t need to be. Less stress since I’m not flying, John thought. Helping out was good, but not being on the hook for every detail of flight prep was also good.

  John exited the ship. Strolling through the hangar, he said, “Call Craig.”

  “What’s up?” came the reply from Darmstadt.

  “Have you got your cadre of delegates lined up yet?”

  “Yeah. Falcon’s flying at full capacity. Fifty crew and fifty delegates, now we’ve whittled it down from 100,000 applications.”

  “Are you the official ambassador?”

  “Yup, head of that motley crew.”

  “Presumably because you’ve talked to the V’Sha before?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How does it feel?”

  “Very strange indeed. I mean, we’ll be shaping relations with the only other intelligent species humanity’s ever come across.” Craig paused for a few seconds. “Wish you were coming.”

  “Yeah. So do I. But, it’s all good. I expect you’re a busy man, so I’ll let you get back to it.”

  “Busy? I’m swamped! Let’s talk again in a couple of weeks or so.”

  “Right on.”

  * * * *

  The cafeteria was sterile and boring, as all cafeterias had been since the dawn of time. It was located deep inside the vast complex at Kiruna Spaceport, which was all one giant building in order to make life easier during the ferocious Swedish winter. There were few others in the large room as John, Nandi, and Craig enjoyed a cup of tea. With one week to go until Falcon departed, John and Nandi were there to help with last minute preparations and mingle with faces both old and new.

  “Well, my five minutes are nearly up,” Craig said, blowing on the steaming liquid in the white china mug. “Time to scald my throat and get back to it.”

  “Don’t do that right before you leave,” Nandi pleaded, only half joking.

  “Don’t worry.”

  John smiled. Nandi never stopped looking after people and being concerned about them. It was just who she was.

  "Hi", Craig said, turning away from them but not standing up. He was obviously receiving a call. His tone changed to disappointment, as John heard his side of the exchange. "Huh. Okay, thanks." And the call ended.

  "It seems Anandini Patel has a family emergency and has to pull out," Craig said. “So, that means there’s a spot to fill. No shortage of people, of course. But, I’d want someone who’s an expert on the V’Sha. If they’d written, or at least co-authored, a book on the subject, that would be ideal.” His gaze never left John as he spoke.

  A big smile spread across John’s face. He looked from Craig to Nandi.

  “Go,” Nandi said. “You have my permission. It’s your life’s work. Go.”

  “Are you serious?” John asked.

  “Yes. The kids and I’ll be fine. I shouldn’t have insisted on my way. I want you to go.”

  John threw his arms around Nandi. “I’ll be back before you know it. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Go and have the time of your life.”

  * * * *

  “Time to find out if they’re still broadcasting that signal,” Captain Daniels said, from the flight deck. The upper passenger compartment was packed with fifty travelers, strapped into their seats (as was the lower compartment), preparing for the transition from warp flight. The inner surface of the space was virtual glass. Everything outside was dark. Then, the vast, white-flecked green orb of the planet Hydra appeared to the left of the ship against a backdrop of stars. Constantine, though weaker than when it was viewed from Epsilon, shone brilliantly from somewhere towards the front. “Humans, please come back to us. Our survival depends on you,” looped over and over on the loudspeaker.

  “That’s a yes, then,” Craig said. “Let’s get to work.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  “This is the spaceship Falcon, attempting to make contact with the V’Sha race,” Craig said in a commanding voice, once his neural implant had been patched through to the radio. “Repeat: this is the spaceship Falcon, attempting to make contact with the V’Sha race. We are listening on this frequency.”

  The V’Sha’s plea for human company kept playing over and over. “Where’s it coming from?” Captain Golden said.

  “Vissan, 204,000 kilometers distant,” Oliver said.

  “So that’s where they live,” John said thoughtfully. “My theory that day on Epsilon was right.

  “Prepare for orbital insertion,” Zachary said. The cabin shook slightly and the crew members were pushed back in their seats as the thrust kicked in. It topped out at around one gravity. As with the journeys to Epsilon, the ship was falling after coming out of warp. Only a long engine burn would boost her speed enough that she would miss the cloud tops of Hydra and enter orbit.

  Craig repeated his attempt to make contact, but there no answer. The aliens’ lonely plea kept on playing.

  “We’d better not have come all this way for nothing!” Andrew Vandenberg grunted, from the front row.

  “We’re less than one light second away, so any answer’ll come through soon enough,” Golden said.

  The cabin went silent, apart from the radio message endlessly looping.

  “I just hope they didn’t all die off and all that’s left is the radio transmitter,” Grace said. “What if we’re too late?”

  “That would explain why they were so anxious to keep us be
fore—if there was some sort of imminent crisis,” Chris said.

  John looked at the inconceivably vast green planet, appearing from their vantage point about as large as a basketball held at arm’s length. Constantine’s version of Jupiter, he thought, only with the coloring of Venus and the streaky clouds of Neptune. Falcon would have to work hard to miss it, since they were already being pulled in by its enormous gravity.

  Then the message from the V’Sha stopped. “This is the V’Sha race,” came the reply. “Welcome, humans. You have answered our call.”

  “This is Craig Martelle, Earth Ambassador. I have spoken with you before.”

  “I remember you well, Craig. This is I-Naan-I.”

  “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance again. We have traced your signal to the largest satellite of Hydra, known to us as Vissan. Is this correct?”

  “That is correct.”

  “And do you live in other places, or just there?”

  “Just Vissan. We have you approaching Hydra and accelerating with a view to orbiting it. Correct?”

  “Yes.”

  Everyone in the cabin listened, rapt, to the exchange.

  “We want to know why we are essential to your survival,” Craig said. “That’s why we came back. But first, we need assurance that no attempt will be made again to capture or harm us in any way.”

  “We assure you our intentions are only peaceful.”

  “I need to hear that from your leader.”

  “I speak for him, as the V’Sha Ambassador.”

  “Not good enough. I want to hear it from him or her directly.”

  “My word is as good as his.”

  “We can depart for Earth again in as little as a few minutes…”

  “Very well. I will get him.”

  There was a tense silence in the cabin, as everyone looked to Craig.

  After a long pause, another, older-sounding American accent was heard in the cabin. “This is I-Karu-I, leader of the V’Sha. Welcome, humans. We will not harm or impede you in any way. We need your help in matters pertaining to our survival. Please do not be afraid to approach Vissan.”