by Yronwode
Venture smiled. “Only because you have no indication of scale, those trees are over 600 meters tall.”
Keeler was impressed. “Wow, those are big trees.”
“Exobotany Survey should have fun. They don’t get to do much normally. Now the other continent is sub-equatorial. Mostly arid desert and scrub… but on this peninsula, there are signs of population and advanced cities,” she zoomed in an area at the far eastern edge of the continent where a peninsula extended like a lolling dog’s tongue. “Our probes can’t scan with any precision through the magnetic field, but there appear to be several large cities in this area.”
Keeler mumbled. “Typical colonial pattern, one large base consisting of a cluster of large cities, located on a coastal zone to facilitate planetary commerce. Is there a potential that there are smaller cities and towns elsewhere on the planet.”
“Definitely,” Venture answered. “The best resolution we can get is on the order of ten square kilometers. Anything smaller than that, we would miss. And there are some other spots on the surface that could also be cities.” She indicated a few more faint brown dots on the desert continent.
“Now, let’s proceed to the weird stuff,” Venture segued.
“Weird stuff?” Keeler’s ears pricked up, but also, the first pangs of dread began to rise from the bottom of his gut.
“As I noted, there are two planets in the system, and two stars in the system,” Venture explained. “The second planet is a dwarf, a piece of rock smaller than the Hyperion moon of Sapphire. But, the second star would seem to have too little mass for thermonuclear ignition. We suspect it was once a gas giant that was transformed into a star through artificial means.”
“Can we do that?” Keeler asked. “Turn planets into stars.”
“The Science Ministry on Republic has studied doing the same thing to Colossus,” said Lieutenant Scientist Wang (the widow of Flight Captain Wang) who was sitting in. “Some models indicate it would raise the surface temperature on Republic eight degrees, possibly melt the ice on Archon and transform it into an ocean-covered water planet.”
“That would be cool,” Keeler said. Maybe the Republickers would be more relaxed if they had a nice beach to get away to.
Venture agreed. “Quite. Also, because of the strong electromagnetic field, once a landing party goes in, they won’t be able to communicate with Pegasus.” Keeler shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “All right, now that part, I hate.” Venture waved her hand and the hologram of the planet became enveloped in an electric white sphere. “As I said, the field is even stronger than the field around Aurora, and it’s extraordinarily regular and consistent, maybe even too regular to be a natural phenomenon.”
“So, they not only built an artificial sun,” Alkema guessed. “They also built an artificial energy field around the planet.”
“That is entirely possible,” Venture told them.
“Why would they do that?” Keeler asked.
“It could be completely benign,” Venture suggested. “The sun is highly energetic, and a strong magnetic field may be necessary to protect the surface from solar radiation, cosmic rays, particle emissions…”
“What about our neutrino-based communications?” Alkema asked. “Neutrinos aren’t affected by electromagnetic interference.”
“The two suns together flood the planet with neutrinos,” Venture said. “We might be able to get a text message through, but anything more will not be possible.” Keeler grunted, “Do we want to save ourselves a lot of suspense and just… set the ship to Battle Situation 1 now?”
“There’s no sign of any threat to Pegasus,” Alkema said.
“And we all remember how fast that can change,” Keeler tapped some notes into his datapad. “Is there anything else we should know?” he asked Venture.
“That covers the broad strokes,” she told him. “Detailed sensor data and analysis are already in the Planetology Datacore.”
“All right,” Keeler said. “Let me suggest a plan. Initial contact will be a single Aves. Two pilots, crew of six, two warfighters.”
“Two Aves,” Alkema suggested.
“Why two?” Keeler asked.
“Since we’re going in to an unknown situation, I think it makes sense to have some redundancy,” Alkema explained. Then, seeing the blank look on Keeler’s face, added, “Safety in numbers.”
“Got it,” Keeler acknowledged. “Okay, double everything I just said.”
“Technician Roebuck, from the bar in the UnderDecks, has also requested permission to join the landing party as a ‘trade representative,’” Alkema added, his voice sounding as though he hoped Keeler would reject the bid.
Keeler shrugged. “The more the merrier. Suit him up.” Alkema made a note of it without commenting, and asked “Who will lead the mission?”
“TyroCommander Change,” Keeler answered.
“No,” said TyroCommander Change. She was seated at the far end of the horseshoe-shaped briefing table. She had hardly changed in two years. Her hair was still neatly contained in a thick black ponytail, and her almond-shaped eyes burned with intellect and determination.
“Excuse me?” Keeler asked.
“I said no,” Change repreated.
Keeler paused a moment to straighten out his thoughts. “TyrCommander Change, you may not have noticed but you are now the second in command of this ship. With that position comes responsibilities, including the leading of teams to planets.”
“I am a navigator,” she told him. “I get you to the planets. I don’t care what you do once you get there, and I don’t want to know, it’s not my business.” Keeler tried to match her determined expression. “Are you going to make me order you to lead the landing team?”
“Are you going to order an anti-social, unwilling Navigation officer to lead a landing team to contact the first inhabited planet we’ve discovered in the Orion Arm?” Change shot back at him.
Keeler realized he was beaten, and later would realize he had never had a chance. “I guess I will be leading the landing team.” Change permitted herself a brief victory smile, a one degree deviation up at the ends from the flat lines of her lips that vanished almost before it could be detected.
“While you conduct surface operations, we could prospect the outer comet belt for chemicals to refresh the ship’s stores; water, oxygen, methane, argon, tritium …”
“Za, do that!” Keeler ordered firmly. “Mr. Alkema, have two teams and two aves prepared to launch tomorrow right after lunch.”
Pegasus – Warfighter Locker Room (Deck 11)
On the morning of the departure, Johnny Rook and Max Jordan outfitted themselves in tactical gear. The latest generation had several improvements integrated into it; better deflective shielding, a stealth mode similar to the shadow-suits that Republicker Centurions wore, along with incremental enhancements to the sensor, targeting, and communication functions. Also, they were black, and looked very cool.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Rook asked.
“I broke my ribs ten days ago, they’re fine,” Jordan told him. It was mostly true, they only gave him a little pain, which he actually kind of liked.
“I just meant people are going to say you’re a glory hawg,” Rook told him.
“I don’t care,” Jordan said. “Anytime off the ship is good time.” Rook adjusted and checked out his helmet. “All systems one hundred. We’re good.” He opened a weapons locker. “Regular pulse weapons, or should we bring rifles, too.”
“Rifles, we don’t go anywhere without them,” Jordan said, strapping a heavy knife to his calf. He liked the armor, and the weapons, and the discipline of his life as a warfighter. It made him feel safe. “Which boat are we in?” he asked.
“Prudence, ” Rook answered. “Phoenix is still in the shop with a great big dent in her wing shaped like an invisible space monster.” He pulled on a combat jacket and closed his locker. “I’ll meet you in the landing bay. I have to say good bye to the wife.” M
ax Jordan grunted his acknowledgment as Rook left. He wondered if he should bring the shoulder-fired cannon in addition to the standard pulse rifle, just in case the threat on the ground was worse than anticipated or he and Rook got bored.
He had decided he could get by with the one on the Aves when suddenly Caliph dazzled into existence before him. “Good afterdawn, Max Jordan.”
“Hoy, Caliph, how have you been?” he asked. For over a year, Caliph had permitted to roam at will through most of the ship’s systems. She had shown a definite predilection toward showing up in the locker rooms, showers, and lounges where the ship’s young males tended to congregate.
“Good,” she said coyly. “Hey, listen, can I ask a favor?”
“What?”
“I want to ride around in your head.”
“Excuse me?” Max Jordan was caught off-guard by the suggestion.
“I want to ride around in your head,” Caliph continued. “I never get to visit any planets, I want to see what it’s like.”
Jordan shook his head. “No way.”
“Why not?” she asked.
Jordan snapped a round into his pulse rifle. “Because it would be weird, and I don’t want you in my head.”
“I need to experience things!” she insisted. “I won’t bother you. I just want to see what it’s like being human.”
“Maybe you should have asked somebody more human than me,” Jordan mused. “Like Trajan Lear. He’d probably be into it.” Caliph shook her head. “Phoenix is already in his head. Look, just think of me as a sensory enhancement to your suit systems. I’ll stay out of your head, and just rely on suit sensors.”
Max Jordan thought about this.
“Please?” she asked. “Don’t forget, I modified the hull-gliders so you could use them on the outside of the Chanticleer StarLock.”
Jordan couldn’t help smiling a little bit at that memory. “Yeah, that was kind of fun.”
“And I covered for you by running a diagnostic on the sensor array while you did it,” she reminded him.
“Right,” Jordan sighed, “But I still don’t want to do this.”
“Please?”
“Can’t you download into an android?”
“It wouldn’t the same… please… please… please…”
Jordan sighed. “All right, you can ride in my gear.” Caliph smiled and vanished. Jordan couldn’t tell if she was there or not.
“Caliph?” he asked.
“Activate your tactical display,” she whispered.
Jordan activated it. Caliph appeared as a tiny sprite in his field of view. She waved at him. “This feels amazing,” she sang. “I can feel the suit hugging your body, I can feel the heat given off by your endothermic reactions, I can even feel…”
“Don’t touch that!” Max Jordan cautioned.
“Sorry,” Caliph grinned. “We should get to the ship. People are starting to board.
Oh, this is going to be so much fun. Wee!”
CHAPTER: 03
Aves Zilla
Zilla dropped down below the permanent haze that covered the planet’s sky like frosted glass. Static charge built up in the planet’s intense electromagnetic field throwing off sparks from tips of it’s wingblades. The ship descended over the sea, leveled, and lay in a course for the tiny peninsula that seemed to hold most of the planet’s advanced civilization. Prudence followed just behind.
Inside, the landing crew watched on the forward displays as the ship closed in on its landing zone. The peninsula came into view, and the ship’s scanners resolved its topography. Just off-center on the peninsula was a large lake shaped like a brain. It was surrounded by a number of settlements. A much larger city loomed on the horizon just beyond it, occupying the cape and western shoreline of the peninsula. “There it is,” said Commander Keeler, just in case anyone had overlooked it.
Anton Stratos was acting as the Exo-sociological liaison officer, and also the communication officer for the landing team. He checked out another set of displays.
“I’m detecting several types of electromagnetic beams being directed at our ship.
They’ve detected us, I think they are some kind of scanning device.”
“Send out a friendly message,” Keeler told him. “Something like, ‘Good morning, we are travelers from a distant star system. Have you lost weight, because you look good!’”
“I will… more or less … transmit that message,” Stratos said.
Exo-biology and planetology specialist Bart Savagewood came around, handing out contact lenses. “The solar radiation on the planet is much more intense then you are used to. These will shield your eyes.”
Keeler took his and popped them onto his eyeballs. He felt them bond in place.
“How long can I wear these?”
“As long as you need to,” answered Savagewood.
“How do I get them out?” Keeler asked.
“When we return to Pegasus, Medical Technician Skinner will give you some eyedrops that will dissolve them away,” Savagewood informed him.
Satisfied, Keeler turned back to the ground displays. Resolution improved as the ship crossed the shoreline and approached the city, and they could now see close-up what kind of life and lifestyle they could anticipate on the planet’s surface.
They could see traffic moving along broad avenues, flanked by large buildings. They could see that walls of most of the building were white or beige, with large windows and balconies, topped by rounded, dome-shaped roofs covered in gray and yellow tiles. The tallest buildings, fifty and sixty stories of shining brass and white, stood in a crowd around the city center.
“On preliminary inspection, I would assert that they are a few centuries behind us in development,” said GeoSurvey Lieutenant Remulac.
“Don’t be a twit,” Keeler snapped back at him. “It’s civilization, a human civilization survived in the Orion Quadrant.” He paused. “I hope they have a bar.” Specialist Remulac was undeterred. “I remind you, this planet’s entire claim to civilization is confined to one small peninsula. The other cities on the surface seem much more backward.”
“I’ve been in space for over two years. It looks good enough to me.” Keeler touched his COM link. “Toto, find a spot and put us down.” Toto reported back. “There’s some flat space near that beach. I can set her down there.”
“Good, do that,” Keeler ordered.
Zilla came in over the harbor, a hundred meters over the waves. There were ships bobbing in the surf on the leeward side of the cape, a mix of sleek metal freighters and wooden sailing vessels of rather backward construction.
As they began the landing sequence, there was a hail from Aves Prudence.
“Commander Keeler,” David Alkema said with almost casual detachment. “I’m picking up five… no, ten… attack ships on an intercept course.” He transmitted a schematic. They were approximately half the size of the Aves, two air-breathing engines tucked close to the fuselage under a pair of large, delta-shaped wing.
Weapons pylons slung under the wings and below the fuselage bristled with missiles.
“That looks kind of scary,” Keeler said.
“Nothing our defenses can’t handle,” Alkena assured him.
Stratos wanted to know if the attack ships were attempting to contact them, and Alkema answered that he did not know. Keeler shrugged, “We’re almost on the ground, what can they do to us?”
“They can attack us from the air,” Alkema warned him.
“That would be a mite ungentlemanly,” Keeler observed. But, by that time, both ships were on the ground, so there was nothing to be done about it any way.
Zilla’s hatch opened and Specialist Savagewood stepped out followed by Specialist Remulac and then Keeler. The sunlight was blindingly intense, but the eye lenses rapidly adjusted, making it no worse than a bright day on Sapphire. The air stung the commander’s nostrils. It was like tropical sea air, but there was a faint but distinct sour-metal-electrical scent to it.
“Fascinating, the ocean here is almost as saline as Republic’s seas, but the chemical composition is quite different.”
“That is fascinating,” Keeler agreed. “But not quite as fascinating as the large, heavily armed group of people that are approaching us.” Along the highway that ran aside the sea, a caravan of large vehicles was approaching. They appeared to be armored, and were painted in a camouflage pattern of dun and beige.
Just as Alkema and his team from Prudence joined Keeler, the caravan pulled up next to the landing zone and discharged a very large and frightening group of heavily armed men, who proceeded to surround and point their large and horrifying weapons at Keeler and his crew.
“Did we come at a bad time?” Keeler asked.
A severe looking woman moved to the front of the group – a dark-haired version of what Goneril Lear would have looked like with a steroid-abuse problem. She began yammering at them in the local language.
Keeler took all of this in stride. “Well, we’ve been threatened with weapons and screamed at in a foreign tongue, so far, a pretty typical first contact, wouldn’t you say, Ranking Dave?”
“Quite so,” Alkema agreed. “Do you think we’ll be taken prisoner, or will they kill us on the spot.”
“We should find out fairly soon.”
The woman then repeated her initial statement more loudly and slowly, as if this would help the landing party understand the native tongue any better. It did not, but the repetition was helpful to the Lingotron.
“What be you business here?” Lingotron finally determined.
“We are explorers,” Keeler answered, trying to sound lofty about it. “We come from the Commonwealth colonies of Sapphire and Republic.”
“Warn-tell your guards to put their weapons on the ground in front of them!” the woman demanded. Once Lingotron found a close language model, the rest tended to come pretty rapidly.
“Mr. Alkema, tell the warfighters to lay their weapons on the ground,” Keeler ordered. The crew had re-worked their landing/first contact protocols. This situation called for a show of trust. And if the locals did prove hostile, Zilla’s weapon banks would provide them cover.