What was this? His hair had gone gray; why hadn't he noticed that before?
He scrutinized the fine wrinkles around his eyes, held the mirror closer, closer, until his vision blurred - and sharpened again. The mirror image zoomed in, covered his entire field of vision - his left eye was magnified to a huge, wet bulge, crisscrossed by blood vessels; the surrounding skin seemed as wrinkled as an elephant's hide.
The image continued to magnify; he discerned it as if he was approaching the surface of his own eye, while shrinking rapidly. The surface of his left eye expanded into a whirling ocean; each time he blinked, a tide swooped down and washed away teeming bacteria and dust particles.
His vision zoomed into his left eyeball and inside a pumping blood-vessel; he became surrounded by a never-ending stream of flattened red blood cells, with occasional round white T-cells scattered among the red.
He zoomed in on a smaller, cramped network of ducts leading from the vessel - now he was in among the brain cells themselves - again he seemed to shrink rapidly; the blood cells became huge rounded boulders and their color faded to transparent tissue.
Now he approached a single brain cell, growing bigger and bigger until it seemed like a huge tree of colorless tissue, sprouting in all directions.
He could clearly discern small molecular movements and flashes of light in his view, blurring the edges and surfaces of things - the very membranes of the cell were boiling with chemical activity. He was plunged in toward the dark sphere that was the genetic core of the cell.
The cell's core was full of holes, where strands of molecules, like yarn, were drifting in and out; the whole structure boiled and pulsated, creating a stream in the surrounding liquid. He slipped through one of the holes, as it expanded around him.
The spectrum of light shifted again; where there had been visible light, there were now just sharp surfaces, flickeringly illuminated by flashes of radiation.
A forest of DNA strands opened up before him; fleetingly, he could glimpse the myriad of double-helix chains that made up the cell's chemical memory and program. Ahead, he noticed a much smaller clump of molecules, with rounded lumps that flickered with hyperfast change. The "clump" was cutting one strand of DNA apart; at the cut-off edges of each strand, drifting molecule debris attached itself and formed complete new double-helixes from the parent strands.
The debris in his view got thicker - his range of vision shrank to almost nothing; all he saw were globs of round, vibrating atoms dancing about, and frequent flashes as stray photons hit his line of sight.
He homed in on a single hydrogen atom in a water molecule; its outer rim was just a flickering pair of electrons - flickering with the photons they sent out when outer sources bombarded them with energy.
The soldier could not see the electrons or make out their form - the wavelengths of radiation and light were too wide to shed light on a single electron.
He fell past the flashing, flickering shell of electrons and into darkness. There, straight ahead, another flickering energy source was approaching, at first just a pinprick of energy compared to the outer shell - the single proton that was the core of the hydrogen atom.
His vision was not perceived as light anymore - but as a pulsating energy field, a probability matrix where things more or less existed in certain locations. He began to see brief flashes of almost-real particles zipping in and out of existence - even the "empty" space around the proton simmered with virtual energy.
The proton shape grew larger still, and he couldn't stop falling closer. It was not round as in the textbooks, more like a fuzzy cloud of being - as it grew to fill up his entire vision, the fuzziness became like radio static or television "snow".
Struggling to stay real - two abstract forces struggling to uphold the boundaries between existence and non-existence - one force aimed forward along the time axis, the other force aimed backward -
He fell.
The soldier hit something hard and screamed; he shook spasmodically, trying to gain a hold of reality before he fell through its cracks - and felt the wooden planks of the floorboards. He was in the barrack again; everything was back to normal size. The other Marines were up and gathering around him.
"Hey, Coffin? You fell out of bed! Are you all right?"
"You're shaking like a leaf and sweating - are you sick?"
The soldier grabbed one hand with the other and forced them to stop shaking. It took him a minute to regain his ability of speech.
"Y... yeah. A bad dream... I was back in the Gulf. I'm okay. You guys go back to sleep. Stupid of me to wake you up."
"Hey man, it's cool. Just relax." They thought they understood: flashbacks.
This was a different vision - it was totally unreal. No man could've seen that which he had just seen - he began to shake again. The memory was so sharp, not at all a dream - he had "seen" things smaller than the wavelengths of light. Like an entirely new sense... a sense of energy. The Ancestors' way of seeing reality. It was too much; he couldn't grasp how it was possible to see each atom in the world and make sense of it all! There had to be more to it than just seeing small things.
The soldier knew from popular science, that time was an "emergent phenomenon"; that the arrow of time only existed in the large-scale macrocosm. On the scale of atoms, time flowed but had no specific direction. And in a deeper sense, time's flow might be an illusion.
But time was a dimension, a direction of space. Then why couldn't space also be an illusion? With the outlook from the smallest parts of the universe, time and distance should fade away. No past, no present, no future, no here nor there, no time to move if there is no spatial movement - just energy's dance with nothingness to weave a semblance of reality. He looked around him and the sight of the barrack, the bunks, the sleeping grunts seemed utterly different.
The space wasn't really there?
Distance and time just pretended to exist?
All his life, all that it contained, was really a complex configuration of photons, interwoven with the rest of the universe?
The soldier fell heavily asleep, and had no more dreams that night.
DAY 122
The remaining members of the Extraterrestrial Contact Team gathered in the mess hall: Carl Sayers, Lazar Mahfouz, Ann Meadbouré, Takeru Otomo, Andrea McClintock, Mats Jonsson, Stone Pound, and Edmund Soto. First on their agenda was the breaking TV news feature they sat to watch.
"Today's top stories: Saudi leader King Khadi miraculously survives assassination attempt; rumors of a state coup come from Saudi Arabia.
"The world holds its breath, as the Saudi-Iranian fleet is ordered to a halt, just hours from striking distance to Alien Beach.
"Secret talks with Iranian leaders may have halted the fleet - a CNN exclusive..."
"The situation is getting critical," Carl told his team; he was strangely calm though, as if his faith in the visitors and their ancestors subverted his words. "The Sirians are fully aware of the crisis, of course - they're still taking in Earth's TV signals. I guess that's why they're staying in their ship. Can't blame them, though - the military presence here is supposed to 'protect' us, but that's just a sham. If any more of you have planned to leave, don't wait any longer."
No one made a sound. The only ones Carl hadn't shared recorded dreams with - Edmund, Takeru, Stone, and Ann - met his eyes without a flinch.
He added: "We'll soon learn if the coup was successful... but I hope so. Whoever comes after Khadi can't be much crazier."
"I still can't believe the Sirians aren't doing anything," Stone said. "They are so technologically superior, they could reach any head of state on this earth, no matter where he was hiding. What if..."
He let the next statement hang in the air. Ann stood up, red-faced with anger, and faced down Stone.
"You stupid American! You haven't understood anything! If they wanted to rule the planet for us, they would be doing so! But they haven't, guess why? Because they don't wan't to! Go ahead, come crawling to Ranmotani
i and beg: 'Stop all wars! Rid us of all bad leaders! Make me thin! Solve my problems! '"
Stone blushed, too shaken to answer. Takeru brightened up with silent insight: That's why they didn't warn us about the coming earthquake in my homeland, until we asked them - so that humanity would not become too dependent on them! He thought: The females treated my shameful attempts at flattery with ridicule and contempt - because they would not let me become their underling. I've been a fool...
Takeru wondered if it was too late for him to restore his dignity and self-respect. To hell with the money he had been promised for spying on the amphibians - as Lazar was so fond of saying, there was no point in lying about anything anymore. Takeru had by now more or less convinced himself that the Sirian Ancestors had nothing to do with the dead ancestors he himself prayed to; they belonged in a different realm altogether.
Yet, with one realm proven real (in some sense), the other one felt ominously closer to reality as well. Somehow, he would redeem himself in the eyes of the Sirians. And in the eyes of his own, earthly ancestors.
"Calm down, Ann," Lazar said. "Our visitors, I'm sure, are rather safe. They can escape an attack in their ship - I saw the film of when it landed here, it's quite fast - we should worry more about ourselves and our loved ones."
"I should tell you," Carl confessed, "that my wife has pleaded that I return to America until the crisis is over. I made her understand that I cannot abandon this responsibility, but... my family is worried." He almost choked on his words, but restrained himself enough to go on. "I will take a delegation to the Sirians now, and request shelter in case of a missile attack. This hasn't been asked for before, but I hope the Sirians will understand the situation and offer some help."
"You will ask Ranmotanii for personal favors?" asked the Swede Mats, frowning.
"Once," Carl said, "I'm not certain, maybe I did try to ask for a favor, but I intended to share it with all of humanity. If we evacuate the island now, trust me, it will be much harder to get back in touch with the Sirians. We owe it to them to try and stay close, after the effort they made to get here in the first place.
"Someday, when this is over, people are going to ask: 'What was in it for us? Did the poor and powerless of the Earth gain anything from this small visit by a dozen lofty-minded humanoids?' And if we pull off this, we'll be able to answer them: Yes. We gained hope and inspiration, by seeing a glorious future without end, that will belong to our descendants - if and only if we strive for it with determination and intelligence."
Right now, Carl added in his mind, priority one is to stay alive through the day.
"Now, who will join me to the lander vessel?"
All except Stone raised their hands.
This time around, the dive went with little effort. The lagoon seemed devoid of Sirians, even of animal life. The massive, dark manta-shape vessel lay immobile on its supporting black balloons; no spotlights were shining from its hull.
Ann took the lead and reached the spot where the airlock entrance should be. The shaft opened up as she reached out to touch the vessel's hull, and lit up her body with blue-green light. Almost ignoring the others, she shot up through the water-filled shaft and surfaced inside the ship.
The great hall seemed the same as last time she had been there; a blank metal dome and a flat floor. The large round doorway was shut; a few egg-shaped metal robots, taller than the humans, moved about on scores of black, spider-like legs - the machines had no visible eyes, but steered clear of them with ease.
Ann stood still, freezing a little in spite of the lukewarm air, and waited for the others to join her.
When the last man had been helped up and removed his breathing-mask, Carl called out for the ship's crew to show themselves. In a vessel this big, it was fairly easy for twelve humanoids to hide... but why? Twice he shouted, until he saw the futility of it - of course no one could enter the ship unnoticed.
"Sit down and wait," he told the group. "You can take off your bathing suits to dry if you want to, don't be embarrassed."
Mats, Andrea, then Lazar took off their scuba gear and clothes, and hung them up on a ledge. Suddenly the entire ship lurched; a few people lost their balance, others staggered for a handhold. The sudden movement stopped in an instant.
A tunnel irised open in the dome wall; a male Sirian came out, and presented himself - it was Aonasann, one of the older, less communicative members of his group. He was wearing a pair of blue Bermuda shorts - ignoring the nakedness of the land-humans, he briskly walked up to Carl.
The amphibian activated a Frisbee-shaped speech device on his chest: a simulated English voice explained that the ship was re-positioning itself. Aonasann would not give any more details; he finished by asking the land-humans to leave the vessel and stay in their barracks, while some Sirian protective machines would escort them back onto Alien Beach.
He repeated the last request, then abandoned them and disappeared into the innards of the huge vessel. The entire ship lurched again, and a faint rumble came from somewhere; Carl told the group to get dressed, gear up and evacuate the premises. No one objected; they jumped into the shaft one by one. Carl waited until only he and Ann were left. He saw how she lingered, waited, looked for more Sirians to appear.
"No, Ann," he said. "You can't come with them."
But who was he fooling? He wanted to come along just as much as she did. Ann clung to a railing, shook her head mutely. And Carl saw, as for the first time, how desire had changed her. When she walked into his JPL office months ago, she had been controlled but tense under the surface, just as she had been most of her life.
Only while diving or playing with dolphins, had she displayed spontaneity or recklessness. But during this time on this tiny island, Ann's personality had turned inside out; all her emotions were now plain to see. Her face had that certain sheen that Carl used to see in his wife's face just before they made love to each other - Ann's body itself had changed, the curves had swelled.
Carl could at last admit to himself the obvious. Still, it frightened him. He grabbed her by the wrist and gave it a tug. She startled at how pale he had turned.
"It wouldn't work ," he said, a little harder.
She turned her face away from his gaze, and for a moment Carl thought she was going to cry. She took a deep breath, and nodded at him, her eyes red and her lips pinched. Carl released her wrist, and they both entered the airlock shaft. As they sank down into the lagoon, the lights from inside the ship went out.
The airlock went dark; they were alone. The looming vessel began to spout up sand from the lagoon's floor, and it moved ever so slowly, just a meter upward. A strong, warm stream was created, and pushed them away from the ship like they were feathers. Carl was struck by fear, and began to swim upward as fast as he could manage.
Carl and Ann surfaced, headed for the beach and waded up, where the other team members sat waiting for them. Edmund was praying in a corner, and two team members had joined him; Carl was touched, even though it dawned on him that they weren't necessarily praying for his safe return from the ship.
"Are they finally going to leave?" asked Stone, as Carl squatted down on the beach to rest.
From the lagoon, a cluster of bubbles mixed with sand billowed up and burst onto the surface. The sky above was free of clouds, and the sight saddened Carl deeply.
"You sound like you wanted them to leave," Carl muttered almost inaudibly, but Stone heard him.
"It's all for the best, right? We're just not ready for the 'galactic community' yet. What I'll never understand, is why they bothered to come here in the first place. The TV programs should have been deterrent enough."
Carl had to resist an urge to rise up and punch Stone's pudgy face. If he resorted to senseless violence now, it would only prove Stone was right. He hid his face in his hands.
The others left Carl alone, sensing his need for privacy. Edmund stayed behind on the beach, praying by himself, as afternoon began to shift into evening. Carl looked up, and
noticed something new: the fleet out at sea had shrunk. Either it was moving out from the three-mile perimeter, or it was dispersing, or both. The sky was also a lot less noisy than usual - there were next to no aircraft circling the sector. Slowly, Carl put two and two together in his mind.
"You chicken-shit bastard of a President," he muttered, casting a furious look out at the diminishing fleet. "You spineless opportunist."
It made perfect political sense. If not in words then in deeds, the leaders had taken sides. All that remained was to use the Security Committee's soldiers to force the scientists off the island, so that Khadi's alliance could bomb the island without - without "human" casualties.
"No, I'm not as low as you," Carl said to himself, and stood up. "Edmund! Come with me. This team has one final decision to make."
Around them on the beach, the soldiers were on patrol, stopping now and then to look at the new, large metal eggs that had marched up on the beach and settled there.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The soldier desperately wished he could just walk up to Carl Sayers and ask what was going on, but he couldn't risk getting thrown off the island now. The Ancestors would explain, somehow, what the commotion was about...
When the ECT team checked the TV and Internet channels, they could find very little media coverage of the dispersing Pacific fleet - all attention had focused on the events in the Orient and the approaching enemy fleet.
It was likely that the Security Council had decided the retreat at the last possible minute before the enemy reached striking distance to Alien Beach - a cynical, desperate attempt to limit the unstoppable confrontation, to one between Khadi's alliance and the alien visitors. Carl rounded up the team, and explained what would most likely follow when the fleet had retreated - forced evacuation of all humans.
Yngve, AR - Alien Beach Page 26