First Contact (Terran Chronicles)

by James Jackson

  “George, I just received a very high honor. The next ship built is my command.” He says proudly.

  “Next ship built, won’t it take you a long time to get back to where ever you're from for that?”

  “I will have my command sooner than you can imagine.” Sharz glances at George. “We need to get a more appropriate vessel to collect the leaders.” He says deflecting the question.

  “It looks as though you’re very important to the Regent, why would he move you to another spaceship?” George asks, quite befuddled.

  Deliberating his answer, Sharz replies after a long pause. “George, you have much to learn of us. In my current capacity I am an advisor only. As a Prime, I am eligible to challenge any Prime, or even the Regent himself. This is a great honor for us. Also, if I am learning anything of humans, I do believe you need to report to your mate to tell her that you are safe.” He glances at George, his eyes blink.

  Sharz lands the shuttle near the residential buildings. A few people look to see what is going on, most pay no heed as aliens coming and going is becoming a normal daily routine. George leaves the shuttle, paying no attention to anyone else.

  “I will be quick.” George hurries out the lowered ramp.

  “I am going to get a dignitary transport, you have some time.”

  George spends scant minutes with his wife. He gives her a quick rundown of events. He then tells her that Sharz is waiting. With a quick kiss he leaves again. She follows his departure, with a slight frown forming on her brow. What is becoming of her man that he is at the beck and call of these aliens?

  As George makes his way back outside, he realizes that only history will be able to decide if his actions are for humanity’s good, or if they contribute to their downfall. 'Their downfall.' He even mouths the words without realizing how much his thinking has changed toward these alien visitors.

  Sharz, having traded out the smaller craft, has returned with a slightly larger one. At about sixty feet wide and two hundred thirty feet long, this craft has the same styling, with its stubby wings and narrow nose. The inside of this craft, however, has many plush looking seats and fixtures. George heads forward to the cockpit where he is now starting to see the differences in the Gamin. They seem to all have distinct patterns to their motley green skin, almost like a person's fingerprints.

  Once again, seated in the cockpit next to Sharz, George really feels good about what he has done, and hopes to do. He has made a good impression on these aliens, and is learning as much about them and their technology as he can. He continues his musings to himself. Who does not think about interacting with an intelligent alien race?

  Their craft makes the journey to Cheyenne Mountain, and arrives in less than thirty minutes. As they come in to land, the President of the United States can be seen making a very good public show as he waves to cameras and onlookers alike.

  George meets the President as he boards, and directs him to a chair. The Secret Service agents do not follow. Once onboard and seated, the President glares at George in annoyance.

  “You again? Why am I not permitted to bring security?” As the ramp closes the Presidents bravado vanishes, he is clearly frightened now.

  “Mr. President, please relax and enjoy the experience.” States George with open honesty.

  The President studies George, as he barks with an authority he does not even know he has lost. “You will tell me who you are and what you're doing, consorting with these invaders.”

  George chuckles, “Why Mr. President, it was by your own suggestion that you and I find ourselves where we are today.” George returns to the cockpit, it seems the President is unaware of Sharz’s presence.

  It takes the dignitary transport a mere forty minutes to get to Minsk, Russia, where they land. The Russian President is also disconcerted at the situation, but complies and once aboard, sits near the American President so that they may talk. Another thirty minutes finds them in Beijing. The Chinese President does not seem unhappy at all at boarding the craft, though he is displeased that he was picked up last. Such a disgrace, he turns to wave, smiling at the cameras as he does so.

  The three leaders talk, and talk, about what they plan to do and say when they meet the Regent. The Chinese leader is asked quite pointedly about the power station that he was given. The American and Russian Presidents both want functional power stations, and find that China having one is unacceptable. Sharz looks at George and shakes his head in a gesture he knows George understands. Sharz closes all the view ports as they ascend. The passengers are denied even knowing where they are going. George can't even believe what the trio is saying. Do they really think they can dictate terms to Regent Voknor on anything?

  A mere fifteen minutes later sees the little ship landing inside the Regent’s massive flagship. As the door opens, George again smells the now familiar aroma. The three passengers cough and gag at the surprisingly heavy atmosphere. George steps out from the cockpit area in front of Sharz. At the sight of the Gamin following George, the three leaders all inwardly groan. Without a word, George and Sharz walk down the ramp, and onto the hanger deck floor. They are met by an armed guard of four Gamin that approach the group. They are wearing what looks to be body armor, and carry holstered guns. Their demeanor screams very military. Odd, thinks George, as he realizes that there were no guards present during his earlier visits.

  “This way.” George wonders if these men are hearing the metallic sounding voice of the guard as he speaks. “You will come with us, the Regent is expecting you.”

  George is prepared for the heavier gravity and foul soupy air as he steps from the shuttle. The other three are not. They struggle to maintain dignity as they gag and stumble across the deck. Sharz and George lead the procession with the four guards bringing up the rear.

  “You should not be here, stupid lap dog.” Hisses a voice from behind George.

  Turning, George looks the Chinese President in the eye as he responds with disdain. “Sirs, you would all do well to watch what you say here.”

  “You understand Mandarin.” The Chinese President is caught totally off guard at this.

  George does not reply as he suddenly realizes that the device in his ear is very a effective translator indeed. He did not even realize that the Chinese leader had spoken in anything but English.

  Soon enough, the group finds themselves on the bridge, all the viewing windows are covered, or closed, or off, George cannot tell. He hangs back as Sharz presents the three Presidents to the Regent. At the sight of this formidable looking creature, all the bravado present on the trip up, vanishes immediately. The Regent’s green skin undulates as he studies the smaller humans before him.

  “I am Regent Voknor of the Gamin. This is my domain.” With a single sweeping gesture from his arm all the screens come alive showing the picturesque view of Earth below them. The forequarters of the space craft seem to stretch on forever, adding to the diminutiveness of the planet below. The space nearby is dominated by at least a dozen other Gamin spacecraft.

  “Let us eat.” The Regent states as he claps his hands while staring at his three special guests.

  The American and Russian Presidents stiffen at the words, causing the Chinese leader’s attitude to wane as he reads the body language of his fellow human beings. Moments later tables and chairs are brought out, followed immediately by various food offerings from below.

  As the three leaders sit at a table, the Regent strides about the room. Sharz takes a seat at a different table, George joins him. “Sit with your kind George, if you desire, that is if these arrogant people would have you at their table.” George looks back and forth, and with stark realization understands only too well what has transpired. George is more welcomed and comfortable sitting with an alien, than his own people. Was this all a plan too? George feels as though he has been played, but a part of him has to consider other possibilities.

  Regent Voknor struts to the view screen again, and as he stares at the blue planet below, star
ts his speech with an air of practice. Almost as if he has said these very words many times in the past.

  “Your bold and futile actions have caused the deaths of many of your kind. This foolishness will cease immediately. You have been playing games, costly games for your people. Perhaps you would take their places, but I think you are more willing to issue orders than to actually do anything that would put your own lives at risk.”

  The Regent slowly walks over to the three leaders, with a wave of his clawed hand he continues.

  “George wishes to save those I have captured. He says that you are at fault, not those that follow your orders, perhaps you should be punished in their place?”

  At the mention of his name, the three leaders look over at a now very subdued George. The Regent then stares at each of the leaders before him. None have the courage to speak, or perhaps they have the wisdom not to, in either case silence fills the room. Regent Voknor slowly heads toward George and while taking food samples from his table, continues.

  “They will be freed, but do not take me for a fool. Any action taken against us, or our friends will be dealt with harshly.” Regent Voknor is looking straight at George as he mentions friends. Pointing at the Chinese President, the Regent continues his speech. “You are here to see that I do not tolerate subterfuge.” The Chinese leader blanches.

  Another Gamin enters the room, struts towards the Regent, then with a bowed head, waits for permission to speak. There is no metallic sound to the newcomer’s voice. Sharz looks up sharply at George, his eyes narrow vertical slits. George being a short distance away, can only make out some of the words. “... Scans... Leave... Found... Discovered... Ready... “

  He acts as though he hears nothing, while listening as intently as possible. George adds food to his plate, silently offers a meat sample to Sharz, who's eyes return to normal as he takes some.

  Returning to his throne like chair, Voknor sits, the three claws on each hand tap the end of the arm rests. Addressing the room, Regent Voknor continues. “You are to increase the shipments of all materials. You are dismissed, humans.” So just like that, the meeting is over with the three Presidents never even uttering a word, far contrary to the plans they had concocted on the journey to this meeting.

  The three leaders all appear as though they wish to speak. George watches as they look at each other, the Regent, and even his way. They are quite agitated, but still stay quiet. Sharz heads to their table, as he looks at the nervous people before him. “Follow me,” is all Sharz says as he turns then leaves the bridge. The leaders, their eyes darting about stand and follow the fast retreating Gamin. George rises, bows slightly to the Regent then follows the group. To his surprise he finds that he is trailing the guards. Am I really that well trusted? He wonders.

  George says nothing to Sharz as they arrive back at the main hanger deck. The quiet trip back sees the shuttle craft returning the three Presidents and George back to their rightful places. None of the leaders speak to George, but they do whisper quietly to each other.

  Sharz returns George last. “Good night, George.” He studies him quite intently one more time before finally departing.

  “Night Sharz.” is all that George can muster as he watches the retreating shuttle with a twinge of sadness. He is at a loss for words.

  George does not know what to do as he deliberates over the few words he caught, giving him information that he cannot know. With new uncertainties about to befall them, he wonders about not only his fate, but that of all humanity. He heads quickly to his quarters, as he is sure Lisa is worried sick about him.

  Location:

  Manhattan Island

  New York

  After filling his wife in on most of the events from the trip to the Regent's ship, they retire to bed to sleep. As George lays there he looks about the room and ponders his next actions. An idea comes to mind, he will take his family into the city in the morning. He must tell his wife about what he has heard, but he can't do that here, in this room. He also wonders about his situation as sleep finally claims him. Is he a collaborator, an alien sympathizer, or a hero to the people? His dreams are of the many possibilities opening up for humanity as he envisions a fanciful fate for humanity.

  The morning news shows the three leaders all expressing great joy at the privilege of dining with Regent Voknor, the leader of the Gamin. There is no news of sailors being rescued, nor any mention of George. The American President does make a great deal of being transported to Washington DC from NORAD by the Gamin via a special trip to see his flagship.

  George just shakes his head at the screen, as his family gets ready to head out to for a great day in New York City. Exiting the Gamin quarter is as easy as walking across the bridge. The three of them walk hand in hand, with Johnny skipping between them. A few anti Gamin hecklers are nearby, but they do not harass the three of them as they pass. Putting recent events behind them, the Stanton family begins to enjoy walking the city streets. Though the city has not fully returned to normal, the streets are still quite crowded.

  Entering a small shop, a little bell jingles overhead reminding George of simpler times. Inside the shop he hugs his wife close as he whispers words she is not expecting. “The Gamin are leaving, and I think sooner than they expected. What will become of us?”

  His wife, with their son in tow smiles at her man as she quietly says. “You are a good man George. Let us enjoy this day. Tomorrow will come soon enough and then we will see.”

  They travel from shop to shop, though many are still closed, there are plenty that are open for business. The family finds themselves visiting many stores, as they enjoy a peaceful day out. George is finally able to truly relax for the first time in ages.

  The explosion is as sudden, as it is deafening. Inside the store George grabs his wife and son, and throws them to the ground away from the large storefront window. A split second later it implodes, showering the area where they were just standing with thousands of glass shards. People outside are screaming, some hurt, some from fear. Many people are now running away from the source of the explosion, most bear some form of injury.

  A man on the street shouts in total terror. “The aliens are attacking us!” He runs off terrified, believing his own words.

  George can't believe it. Staggering to the doorway he looks out and sees a massive dust cloud rising up from somewhere near the Gamin quarter. George can see that their day’s walk has brought them around in a full circle, putting them within a couple of blocks of the source of the explosion. He goes back to check on Lisa and Johnny. With his ears still ringing, he tries to calm them both. A voice in his ear startles him.

  “Stay where you are George, a transport will collect you and your family.”

  Mere moments later, a Gamin craft lands outside the damaged store, its ramp opens. George and his family board the small craft, much to the surprise of many onlookers. At some point during the spectacle, others shout. “Collaborators”, “Alien lovers” or even the expected, “Take me with you.”

  George makes sure Lisa and Johnny are comfortable in the plush seating before going forward. He sees the distinct features unique to Sharz, and nods to him. As the craft banks away from the damaged area, he looks down and sees a lot of carnage. One of the bridges leading toward the rail interchange has been destroyed, debris still falling into the churning waters below. The front of an ore train hangs precariously over the edge of this ravine, its driver nowhere to be seen. The injured and dead litter the streets in all directions. All manner of vehicles can be seen headed to the area. The mix of police cars, fire trucks, ambulances, and various gamin craft fascinates George. Looking back to Sharz he can’t make out any expression. As the craft banks around again, George can see the roof tops of nearby buildings with people lying motionless upon them. There is also some writing on the roof, he can't make out the painted words.

  “Thank you for getting my family Sharz.” George is most grateful, especially upon seeing the area of devastation below
.

  “You are most welcome George, I do not want to see you or your family hurt. Very few foreigners impress me George, but you are one of them.” Sharz is quite sincere in his words.

  Arriving back at their quarters, George is torn between staying with his family and helping those outside. After making sure his family is safe he makes a difficult decision.

  “I have to help, I can't stand by and do nothing.”

  Lisa hearing the distress in his voice, can't help but feel admiration for her man. “Go, but please be careful.”

  Walking toward the spaceship, George feels very unsafe. Glancing back at the damaged area and beyond, there is a lot of activity. A gunshot rings out, he flinches, but keeps walking. The sound of more gunfire fills the air, as police and militia return fire at some unseen threat. Stoically walking onward, he recalls the day his suit was hit by a bullet. He is still a long way from his destination when he spots a tracked Gamin vehicle coming toward him at high speed. The vehicle stops and blocks his way. The side doorway opens up and there stands a Gamin that George does not recognize. They stare at each other for a moment, then the Gamin motions for him to get inside.

  “Where are you going?” Demands the Gamin as he sits down.

  “I want to get into my suit and help.” says George with his usual open honesty.

  The Gamin scoffs as he accelerates the vehicle, “Your suit, indeed. You’re Sharz’s pet, not mine. Do you not value your life?” George can see that they are getting further away from the space craft, not closer.

  “I just want to help the injured and fix the damage. I despise terrorists and their activities.” Without knowing it, George has let quite a bit of anger enter his voice.

  The vehicle stops, the Gamin stares at George for many long seconds. “I can see why Sharz likes you. Very well, it's your life, I will take you to collect a suit.”

  George makes good time in getting to the destroyed bridge. He works a section alone for a while, but is soon joined by others. Working alongside these newly arriving suited individuals, he is not sure his coworkers are human, nor does he care. As more suited workers join in, he can’t help but feel patriotic at the waves and salutes from his compatriots. With the area getting busier, he looks through the faceplates of those close by. He can see people and Gamin working together, which fills him with great pride at not letting the terrorists win. He stops for a second as is it dawns on him that the suits belonging to the Gamin are not only larger, but have differences in design. With no time to ponder this, he returns to the task at hand.