NEBULAR Collection 1 - The Triton Base: Episodes 1 - 5

by Thomas Rabenstein

  Davis didn’t show any emotions as he whispered to Day, »Don, you were right! These Globuster-occupied Kuiper objects have a purpose. It seems they were established solely to block us from sending and receiving any signals from the rest of the galaxy. Seal off our system. Destroying Quaoar opened a break in their shield so that now we can get signals from all the other worlds!«

  The commander still couldn’t believe it.

  »Don, the Globs must possess highly advanced technologies to manipulate electromagnetic waves,« Davis continued. »We had firsthand experience with that on Quaoar. They’re able to jam or eliminate our signals and we can’t do anything about it. Now the installation of these Kuiper Belt objects makes sense. They formed a shield around the whole Solar System that only allowed certain signals to reach our antennas!«

  Day grabbed Davis’ arm and pinched hard, struggling with his self-control.

  »Have you thought about the consequences, Bill?«

  Davis nodded.

  »The Globusters made us believe that we were the only ones in the universe, and that for at least three hundred years, maybe longer. They blocked all alien signals and practically isolated us from the galaxy. I assume that this filter works bidirectionally. Nobody on the outside ever received any signal from us, and probably didn’t know we existed. Until now! And even now, it could take years until other civilizations pick up our only lightspeed-fast signals!«

  Day swallowed hard and signed Jörgmundson to come over. They studied the holo map again, then Day said, »This is a top priority. We’ll inform Earth ASAP. Record as much as you can in case the gap closes again. I don’t think the Globs will like this, and probably will do something about it!«

  The Yax K’uk’Mo

  Arkroid had led his special guest to the observation deck. He was acutely aware that their movements and conversation were being transmitted live to Earth. He wasted no time studying their guest, knowing that all that data would be available at his leisure; he concentrated on the interaction with the alien. The translation device was priceless in overcoming the first hurdles.

  Still there were some specific things about their guest that Arkroid couldn’t ignore.

  Mentally and psychologically the stranger seemed to resemble Humans despite his alien form.

  His skin looked rough and wet, like the skin of snails. Scorge even moved like a snail. Still, Arkroid thought that he wasn’t much closer to Earth snails than he was to Humans.

  Scorge didn’t seem to care about the cushions the crew had prepared for him in the observation room; he just slumped down where he had stopped.

  Arkroid couldn’t say in which direction Scorge was looking exactly, but he thought that the visitor must be looking at Earth on the large panoramic screen. The several square meters large display mimicked a large observation window directly into space. Real windows of that size weren’t used in space stations and spaceships due to the high radiation from space.

  Highly advanced display technology gave the observer a three-dimensional image of space, a view that always changed with the station’s rotation.

  Arkroid waited for a couple of minutes and then said, »This is a brand new situation for us, Scorge. On Earth, it is customary to offer a visitor a welcome drink.«

  Scorge shifted his body but didn’t give Arkroid a direct answer.

  »Are your people aware of what kind of treasure you possess? Wars have been fought over planets like yours! Whole species have been annihilated because others wanted their planets. Earth is a jewel, but you don’t appreciate it. Look what you people have done to it. The balance is severely out of whack and the planet has been punishing you for it.«

  Arkroid was dumbfounded by Scorge’s serious reply. Even through the translator he read the accusation in his tone, he sensed an undertone of sympathy as well.

  »The planet punished us?« Atkins said, sitting down on one of the floor cushions.

  »A world like yours reacts to torture like a complex organism. You’re part of its ecosystem. When you damage your living environment, you damage yourselves!«

  Scorge turned around and seemed to face Atkins.

  »If I remember correctly, I have a free question until it’s your turn again, don’t I?«

  Arkroid’s thoughts were interrupted as one of Scorge’s tentacles thrust forward as if the alien were pointing them at him.

  »Well … umm, I guess, although I have to tell you this … bartering for information … is unfamiliar to us.«

  »Nothing in life is free. I didn’t come here as a patronizing benefactor.«

  Sammy Atkins straightened.

  »Then what’s your real reason?« he asked quickly.

  »That’s a question, Human, but it’s my turn first.«

  Arkroid kept his self-control. He knew that he had more to gain from this situation than the visitor. He had been pondering already over what trading goods Scorge would be interested in. He didn’t imagine that Scorge could have carried many products or treasures with him in his small spaceship. His ship looked more in need of repairs than anything else. Even for an alien spacecraft, it appeared patched up and looked as if somebody had jerry-rigged the repairs.

  »I’d be glad to help give you an evolutionary push if you have something to offer in return … something I might re-sell for a profit. I can share with you the technologies I have acquired from all over this sector of the galaxy.«

  »Technology?« Arkroid asked.

  Scorge groped with one of his tentacles across the table top in front of him as if he wanted to inspect the quality of the table.

  »The oldest junk in my cargo bays would be a treasure and a blessing to your people!«

  »Junk!« Atkins echoed, startled. »Are you pulling our legs?«

  »I’m not pulling your legs. No, no, certainly not. But … see that is my job, my young Human friend and master of doubts. I am a cosmic junk trader and dealer. That’s our lives. All members of our species, all brothers and sisters, make their living doing just that. We collect junk and sell it to whoever needs it. Junk is a relative term, like anything else in the universe. What some people call junk, others see as priceless treasure. I’m certain it will be the same in your case.«

  »You’re trying to tell me that you make your profit by collecting goods no longer needed and that your ship is more or less a flying junkyard?« Arkroid asked disbelievingly.

  »Exactly! However, we prefer to be called ‘Motor of Intergalactic Technology Transfer’.«

  – Pause –

  »Since you came to this conclusion yourselves, I won’t count it as a question.«

  Scorge made that strange sound again; he was clearly having fun with this conversation.

  »I have to admit, I can’t live from dealing with technology junk alone, so I buy everything I can sell for profit. The question for me is: what can you offer me and what do you want in return?«

  Atkins was just about to make a suggestion, but Scorge cut him off, »My young friend, this is the main subject of our negotiations, and can only be undertaken by the Trade President.«

  Arkroid couldn’t suppress a smirk. He looked at Atkins while trying to think of what he could offer.

  »Well, the trade should be to the advantage of both sides and be of equal value to please both parties,« he started out.

  »Go ahead, Arkroid, I’m listening.«

  »I think we could profit by acquiring some technology. I’m a little at a loss, though. Can you give me some idea of what you could use in return?«

  Scorge’s tentacles were dancing in the air, and he seemed suddenly very excited.

  »Actually, I’m still thinking about it. There’s always something useful for resale. But first my question …«

  Arkroid listened up.

  »What question?«

  Arkroid bit his tongue. He could have kicked himself for having forgotten about their question and answer agreement.

  »Well, go ahead, Scorge. What do you want to know?»

 
; »Why do Humans possess such strong genetic differences? Did you initially come from different worlds to settle on this blue jewel?«

  Arkroid didn’t understand at first, but Sammy Atkins picked up the thread.

  »Are you referring to me having dark skin and Arkroid almost white skin?«

  »My young friend understands correctly. One of the men we met in the corridor had other, different features yet!«

  »One of the Asian technicians,« Atkins reminded Arkroid. He turned to Scorge and explained, »Our people come from various regions of the planet. Over time, people adapt to their environments and develop slightly different features.«

  Scorge turned toward the large display and looked at Earth for a couple of minutes, then said determinedly, »That’s not possible. A single world doesn’t typically offer such variances. Without a doubt, your people originated from a single species, but at one point in time there must have been a split. Well, I acknowledge that you don’t know what happened.«

  Nobody spoke a word for a couple of minutes until Arkroid picked up the conversation.

  »I’m seriously asking myself what we could offer that would be of use to you?«

  Scorge came closer while his tentacles partially retracted.

  »First of all, I’d like to follow the unwritten customs of my people and offer a gift. It’s how we open every trade negotiation. It has been customary for thousands of years to receive a gift from the host, which we will return on the next visit. A bond, if you like, which ties us to the trade. By accepting the gift, we’re obligated to return, ensuring mutual profits.«

  Without any further explanations, some of Scorge’s tentacles reached into one of his belly pouches and pulled out a shiny object.

  »This is a present I have received from King Pakal about 1,500 orbits of your planet around your sun ago. I would like to return the gift to your people to initiate the negotiations in the proper spirit,« Scorge explained.

  Arkroid was speechless as he stared at the small golden sculpture Scorge had just placed on the table. It looked like Mayan work, which was about right if Scorge’s words were true.

  »In retrospect, I think it was a mistake to land on your planet that time,« Scorge apologized. »Your ancestors believed that I was a god. Well … they interpreted my appearance that way. They built their temples to resemble my ship and preoccupied themselves with hauling massive boulders and rocks to the building sites to erect these monuments. At times, I helped them, arranging the boulders and chiseled rocks. I see that there is not much left of Pakal’s empire, despite his promising start.«

  Atkins was speechless.

  »Are you trying to tell us that you were here when the Mayan Pyramids were built?« Atkins asked after a beat.

  »Yes, that’s certainly correct, at least when they built their first one. The Mayans didn’t have much to trade, but I was able to stock up my provisions, acquire some crates of precious metals and gems and in return supply them with knowledge. I explained the secrets of astronomy to their high priests and helped them build an observatory. Pakal was convinced that this knowledge would help him rule more wisely over his people. Since I liked your ancestors very much, I also gave them a calendar to help them calculate and determine the different seasons. Unfortunately, I couldn’t return any sooner … important business, you understand?«

  Atkins looked at Arkroid with burning eyes.

  »I understand,« Atkins replied weakly.

  Scorge extended some of his tentacles and touched sensor pads on his belt. Almost instantly, astonished voices came from Arkroid’s ear-receiver.

  »To avoid any panic,« Scorge explained, »I just deactivated the cloaking shield around my ship. Your people can see the Yax K’uk’Mo’ as a whole now. This type of camouflage is quite useful on my trips throughout the galaxy. Helps ensure I won’t be bothered by pirates. If we’re going to be trading partners, I believe in putting my cards on the table.

  Chaos prevailed in the station’s command central while Arkroid could only hear scraps of talk over the ear receiver.

  ‘… more than four-hundred meters long! It looks like a Mayan Pyramid! He was only letting us see a small portion of the ship! Good Lord … it’s HUGE!’

  Arkroid issued some orders to have the images directly transferred to the observation deck. All at once the large screen displayed the alien ship in full three-dimensional view.

  »I … don’t believe it,« Arkroid mumbled to himself.

  »Uh … there she is, my Yax K’uk’Mo’, fully loaded with all the nicest things in the galaxy.«

  Arkroid paled. When the ship arrived, they had only seen the small bow section. Most of the ship had been hidden underneath a stealth shield. There were no more doubts in Arkroid’s mind: Scorge had been on Earth before. The Mayans must have seen his ship, and built their temples accordingly.

  It was clear that the history books needed to be re-written … and not, he suspected, for the last time. Who knew what else was waiting for them?

  Flabbergasted

  People on Earth were in shock. The exact dimensions of the Yax K’uk’Mo’ were more than a sane mind could process. The scientists couldn’t explain how such a gigantic ship could be made virtually invisible. Their attempts to explain the technology in terms of contemporary physics failed utterly. While physicists and engineers wrestled with that riddle, historians made a fascinating discovery of their own.

  Yax K’uk’Mo sounded like the name of an ancient Mayan ruler, circa AD 420. There certainly seemed to be a connection between Scorge’s visit and that dynasty. The historical evidence forced scientists to accept Scorge’s account. Was Scorge really at least 1,500 years old then? Lacking any knowledge of Scorge’s species, his assumed age was grudgingly accepted.

  Politicians, economists, and social planners were deeply interested in what Scorge would possibly have to offer … and what he wanted in return. All that was certain was that Scorge had goods and technology to offer that Earthmen could only dream about.

  Biomass

  »It’s time!« Scorge blurted suddenly.

  »Time for what?« Arkroid asked warily, still reeling from Scorge’s revelations.

  »Your question! It’s your turn! Don’t keep me in suspense.«

  Sammy Atkins raised his right hand and Arkroid let him speak.

  »Are you traveling alone, and where is your home?«

  Scorge seemed amused.

  »You are strange people. You could ask me anything under the suns, and you ask me that?«

  Atkins nodded and smirked.

  »That’s good enough for starters. We like to know our trading partners well. I hope that isn’t too much to ask for?«

  Scorge seemed to ponder for a moment then answered, »My people are from a solar system you call Gamma Draconis.«

  »Eltanin!« Atkins huffed, surprised. »We also know your system under the name Eltanin. It’s about 150 lightyears from Earth … a K-Class, orange giant star.«

  »Well, it’s more like 148 lightyears. Our sun would take up the space to the first planet of your solar system in comparison. My home world is the fourth planet, 380 million kilometers from the sun. We call it Hexaquotl. A Beautiful world, though she shows her age. We no longer possess as much water as you have on Earth.« The alien paused. »Well? Does that help you? What are you going to do with that knowledge, you people who still don’t know all the secrets of your own planet, but want to conquer space?«

  Arkroid’s eyes glared.

  »We know that travel over such vast distances is possible. That was only speculative before; now it’s fact.«

  Atkins grinned.

  »And, we know where you live!« he quickly added.

  Arkroid shot him an admonishing look.

  Scorge extended some of his tentacles and crossed them in the air.

  »Oh, yes, there are thousands of inhabited worlds. I believe I’m beginning to understand you better. Your strongest drive seems to be your curiosity and the quest for knowledge. I
f you know that something is possible, then you won’t give up until you’ve achieved it.«

  Atkins laughed out loud.

  »You could put it that way. But Scorge, you still haven’t answered my question. We had a deal!«

  »I didn’t forget, my young friend. And even though you are trying to slip two questions by on me as one, I will be generous and answer, just this once. I’m traveling alone. The Yax K’uk’Mo’ is my home. We, the Shwakans, only come together when we meet by accident in space or when we return to our homeworld to procreate. The latter occurs every 500 orbits around Gamma Draconis, to put it in your terms. We are not what you would call ‘herd beings’ like you Humans. We prefer a solitary life, quiet and secluded.«

  »You call yourselves Shwakans?« Atkins asked, astonished. The name struck him as funny. He didn’t think Humans would refer to themselves as ‘herd’ beings, either.

  »Didn’t I just say that?« Scorge answered contentedly. »Let’s get back to our deal.«

  Arkroid and Atkins perked up their ears. Was Scorge finally going to explain his conditions?

  »I have made up my mind about what you can give in return for my trade goods.«

  Arkroid listened intently as Scorge continued.

  »If you agree to my terms, then I’ll open the sealed section of my ship to you. We’ll enter the depot together and I’ll let you choose whatever you want. However, I’ll not tell you what any of the items are, or how they work. You’ll have to figure them out for yourself.«

  »You mean we’d being buying a pig in the poke?«

  Arkroid’s tone made it clear that he didn’t like this at all.

  »No, no … I don’t sell porcine, which are contained that way. That wouldn’t be right.«

  Arkroid smiled. Scorge’s translation unit didn’t seem to be that perfect.

  »Alright, alright, Scorge! Tell us what you want.«

  The Shwakan suddenly performed a strange dance and turned around his axis a couple of times, while his tentacles made wave-like movements through the air.

  »In return for my galaxy-wide recognized techno-junk, I want … 8000 cubic meters of concentrated biomass from your oceans!«