Astralis

by A. J. Mitar

  The missiles were rendered unusable as well. In those days, no device could be controlled without electronic mechanisms. That terrible weapon had hit again, without mercy. All was left for us to do was wait, powerlessly, for the opponent's next move.

  Fortunately, the bunker stored old telescope systems, so ancient that we didn't know of their existence; they were at least 100 cycles old and they have been built during the trans-continental wars to be able to observe the surface from down here. There was no trace of optoelectronics, but only complex aggregation of optical systems; this old technology was retrofitted to be our eyes.

  Immediately after the release of the pulse, a smaller shuttle detached from the mother ship, it was as big as the government palace; it came towards the ground and, when it was visible, we could actually see its elongated shapes and aerodynamic design, the hull looked like it was made of a one single block of metal. It was silver in colour and the light was reflected evenly, we couldn't notice any sign of interconnections among the different sections.

  The vessel has not been assembled; it has to be the result of some sort of metal accretion over endostructure. Advanced nanotechnology. I tried to capture the details of that aircraft.

  But they weren't done with surprises. Again, certainly a marvel of their nanotechnology, the hull changed colour to opaque blue while the unknown inscriptions were replaced with the yajadaj symbol.

  Those aliens were trying to seem friendlier: they were sending us soothing signs using their amazing technology.

  Obviously, we would have done the same: they have studied us for a long time; they know our colours and the most ancient symbol of peace.

  The shuttle remained motionless, hovering right against the government palace. We agreed that it was about three hundred ipa-jaf tall and gave the uncomfortable feeling of being able to destroy the entire planet, if it wanted to. Fortunately for us, its menacing presence was not accompanied by any other signal of hostility, nor any sign of life. We all wondered what their intentions might be.

  After a day of consultations, it was clear to all that the aliens wanted to negotiate, they could have launched the attack on all our cities, but they didn't do so.

  “There is no doubt, they are waiting for us to yield, they are invaders who want to conquer our planet” general Miot, commander in chief of the ground forces, trumpeted to the four winds.

  “I think they want to subjugate us: destroying our defence forces does not seem to be the best way to negotiate for peace” hypothesized Junzika, the governor of the continent.

  We would have not considered them friendly even if they had given us their fleet. The Teyons tried several times to engage in peace talks with us, without success.

  Perhaps the aliens had studied us so well that they knew that an act of force would have been more effective, because they had understood our warrior nature. Showing up as old cronies would have been a pointless waste of time.

  “That shuttle will remain up there, over the palace, until one of our delegations will come out of the bunker. You can bet on it” said the president of United Continents.

  Finally, we decided to send a negotiating delegation. There were ten of us and all categories were represented: scientists, politicians and the military. I couldn't miss it, the Teyons fascinated me so much and the newcomers would fascinate me as well, whoever they were, I was certain of it.

  We waited at the foot of the palace, right in the shadow of the turned-blue shuttle. It descended slowly to the ground.

  “Amazing, it is flattening.” I shuddered when I saw that it was preparing for landing by changing its shape. How the hell can its structure change so fluidly? I, incredulous, continued to admire that display of alien technology, but I was sure more surprises were yet to come.

  The ship was approaching towards us with an almost imperceptible movement; there was no sign of flames or reactors, nor puffs of steam. We noted only the soft sighs of servo systems and a slight vibration when it landed on the ground. This technology was astonishing.

  Floating structure were self-assembling to form an access ramp to an opening which just pop-up from nowhere and gusts of hot wind, which were coming out of it, were telling us that the ship was swarming with energy.

  Then a small vehicle came out fluttering about... Suspended in mid-air, allowed us to observe its macabre surprise. The automated vehicle was carrying, for all of us to see, behind it, dozens of Teyon bodies, piled up like broken dummies. The air was filled of their sulphurous stench.

  I tried to reduce the frequency of my breaths. They already stink when they are alive; dead, the stench is unbearable. Their blue-grey bodies had become yellow-brown due to the effect of oxidation; our atmosphere was like blazing fire on their skin.

  Yet, their mysterious biochemistry has always fascinated us.

  I observed their flashy clothes with saturated colours of gold and burgundy.

  Only the head of the warriors and priests castes are allowed to use them. They massacred all the Teyon high ranks and they are brandishing their power by flaunting their trophies.

  The vehicle approached very quietly and irreverently unloaded those corpses at our feet, as if they were rubbish to dispose of.

  I didn't love the Teyons, they were responsible for the massacre of several members of my family, but they did not start the war.

  Barbaric acts of war, I thought, We were responsible for much crueller actions during the long conflict with the Teyons.

  Then, ten humanoids came out of the ship, walking in a strange way, the metallic heels stomped the pavement following a bitter cadence, some sort of synchronized stride. They arranged themselves lined up five on one side and five on the other leaving a passage corridor. They had the appearance of brave warriors waiting of their leader. It seemed they weren't carrying any weapons, or anything that might look like them, a gesture that was interpreted as non-belligerent.

  I observed them: they were well proportioned; they had more or less the height of a Vanoubian, all athletic; they wore shiny armours that concealed their features from head to toe, too tight to their body to be pressurized. They looked like artificial muscle tissues grafted on a metal exoskeleton, impressive to observe the way they contracted during their movements, they had to be enhancing.

  “Incredible! They are sentient cybernetic organisms” whispered an indeterminate voice coming from behind my shoulders.

  The doubt of being in front of artificial beings was legitimate, but also too hasty: impossible to tell without more in depth observations.

  Their movements are too fluid to be artificial mechanisms, my experience objected, but who knows... we are faced with a highly advanced technology, perhaps... I was doubtful.

  The solution to the dilemma was not late to arrive.

  There you go! That one must be the leader, the colours of his armour are more ostentatious and all those stars on his shoulders... I noticed when I saw that proud creature coming toward us.

  Then I realized that they were humanoids, organic beings, and even their armours were the fruit of sophisticated nanotechnology, in fact, the leader's coating shrivelled up like it was alive and then disappeared at the base of his head.

  “Oooh, for the Divine Creator, Divine Creator protect us... forgive us all, oh Divine Creator.” A mixture of holy expressions echoed in the background.

  A few more steps toward us and it was not difficult to see his face. We were all aghast: he had vaguely alien traits, but my hesitant eyes didn't know where to linger, every part was incredibly attractive.

  I deducted that, thanks to that type of technology, they could have been armed, in spite of the appearance. It was probable that their armours concealed weapons of great power, so I was ever more certain that they had no hostile intentions.

  The alien stretched his arm, pointing a finger toward our star, a gesture that seemed to me very theatrical.

  It could be their way of greeting?—I thought that perhaps we should respond with the same greeting an
d not with the intertwined bow of Gahl. Clearly I cannot expect the rest of the universe to be aware of our traditional ceremonial greeting.

  “May the Divine Creator protect you, our brothers” he started.

  Why 'brothers'?—I wondered, more upset by those words that by the fact that he spoke standard Vanoubian with perfect inflection.

  “I'm admiral Hicham, commander of the fleet sent to your Vanendat system and responsible for the first contact.”

  The entire delegation felt compelled to greet, according to the proud Vanoubian tradition, with the ceremonial bow, the most appropriate during large diplomatic events.

  “I represent the Empire of Sol, we came up to you to give you the opportunity to re-join us, you'll be part of the great Empire of Sol, you'll send your delegates to represent you and you will sit at the table of the Grand Imperial Council. Your planet will be a possession of the Empire, but all Vanoubians will be considered equals to the citizens of the Empire of Sol, with all related rights.”

  He made a short pause and fixed its unusual eyes, which were the same colour of cobal pearls, in those of the president. He did it in a threatening and persistent manner, Stibit had to lower his gaze.

  It was clear to all that the president's gesture had ratified the submission of the three United Continents to the mysterious foreign power.

  This is the greatest event in Vanoubian history, I wonder if it will be a great opportunity for our people, or if we will find ourselves at the edge of a new cliff, with the end of Vanoubia.

  Behind me a pressing buzz of disapproval.

  “This is unacceptable!” someone yelled.

  “Mr President, can't you see that they are telling us that we belong to this mysterious Empire?” exclaimed a more insolent voice.

  But admiral Hicham's last words were fairly reassuring:

  “As a sign of friendship we have destroyed your mortal enemies, they will not bother you anymore, ever.

  We hope to earn your trust leaving one of our stellar cruisers, make good use of it; when we shall see each other again, we would like you to have learnt its technical secrets. We will contact you when your planet will have completed ten cycles around your Vanendat star.”

  Admiral Hicham spoke no more, turned around and returned to his ship, followed by his men; an arrogant behaviour, but their military superiority gave us no choice, we had to accept their conditions.

  Even though the buzz had changed into cries of protest, the aliens didn't give us any way to retort. The ship departed with instant acceleration at high altitudes, while it tapered its shape aerodynamically to the atmospheric elements.

  “We will fight until the last Vanoubian!” ventured someone, in the ardour of the situation.

  But who were they?

  After a few cycles, we discovered that they didn't know it either.

  Their planet had a rather vague name, it was called Earth, and they were the Earthlings; they seemed to be mighty warriors, they had created an interstellar empire, annexing dozens of worlds.

  Why does this not make me proud?—I thought. Contrary to what was happening to me, in a few cycles, many favourable groups to the new ‘allies’ were born, due to the awakening of an insane instinct for belonging.

  We deciphered several archives from the vessel, bequeathed to us as inheritance: the Petrenka. We learned that they had discovered our planet by chance, but a genetic comparison established that we were part of the same species, which it has the euphonic designation of Homo Sapiens.

  Admiral Benjamin Hicham was a man, perfectly equal to a Vanoubian if it had not been for his colours, with that hair which resembled solvis ears ripen in the mild season and skin fair as a carmit tuber. After a better look, the Earthlings could be Vanoubians who belong to another ethnicity, it was especially due to the light green tones in the eyes to give them an alien look; no Vanoubian had such a chilling gaze. I was thinking back to two large ethnic groups in which the Vanoubians are subdivided.

  The Golis are olive-skinned, fairer than the Masukits', but significantly different from that of the Earthlings. Perhaps they are descendants from a third ethnic group which emigrated in space?—I wondered. Maybe they are right, we have a common origin.

  It's very unlikely that a complex combination of genes such as that of the human genome was repeated, identical, on two planets at 2000 al (imperial unit) of distance.

  The Earthlings had the certainty of a common origin and the great challenge to take on together would be to find out the details. Who was our Great Ancestor? Where did the Homo Sapiens originate? Who were those beings that seemed so similar, not only in appearance, but also in the cruelty shown toward the enemy? Perhaps Earth was the planet of origin, or perhaps human beings have taken their first steps on Vanoubia?

  And even if a Great Ancestor did not exist, but a Great Creator, a being that has spread the human progeny on, who knows, how many worlds?

  The Earthlings were only interested in their rise, they were projected toward the conquest of new sectors of the galaxy, and a powerful interstellar empire could not tolerate obscure points in its history.

  But is their thirst for knowledge only due to pure intellectual curiosity?—I wondered several times without knowing how to answer appropriately. Perhaps it was not only about innate human curiosity:

  What technologies could have been available to hypothetical humans that thousands of years ago were traveling among the stars? I would have forgone my right hand to know the answer.

  Historians described as glorious the day of the arrival of admiral Hicham and its fleet (first contact); they called it ‘the day of the gods’. I was amazed that the majority of Vanoubians approved of the new powerful ally, an event willed by the Divine Creator, not a chance as alleged the Earthlings (file 24010121.probe-se.H0121.petrenka). In a recent past, this sort of racial solidarity would have been quite a frightening idea for the Vanoubians.

  But my beliefs remained unchanged, there was nothing divine in the humans’ actions and purposes, they had wreaked devastation on the Teyons, now it would be someone else's turn.

  In Gaart cycle 1012, admiral Hicham landed a winner on Vanoubia, heading just five war ships: Dayna, Petrenka, Roman, Moonar, Einstein. From that date, ‘the day of the gods’, the great commanders of the past had a successor. From that day, our planet was no longer the same.

  A J MITAR

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