by Bruce Bethke
"Do you think it's dead?" Dalton asked wonderingly.
"I sure as hell hope so," Bunny said. "I've only got two more grenades."
Jeff didn't say anything. While Bunny walked over and prodded the dead alien with her foot, he dropped his railgun and slowly put his hands on his head.
From the northern entrance to the cavern, a squad of ATFOR troops had emerged. Seeing Bunny's grenade launcher, they immediately spread out and pointed their ACRs at her.
"I'm pretty sure it is dead," Bunny called. When she didn't get a response, she turned around to face the others. "Dalt—"
"Drop the launcher," Chuck Houston's voice grated in her ears. She quickly complied, and one of the Bluesuits stepped forward and retrieved the weapon. "Now tell me: what the hell is that thing?"
Josef gazed at the alien in wonderment. It was both frightful and beautiful; standing more than two meters high, it towered over the tall colonel. It had two legs and two arms, a head with two eyes, a mouth, and what appeared to be a nose ridge. But there the resemblance to anything even remotely humanoid ended.
The Estron was covered with a thick reddish orange hide. Its eyes were a bright solid green and lacked pupils but had a clear nictating membrane, like that of a snake. Between the eyes began a series of V-shaped overlapping plates that ran over the top of the head and down the back, terminating in a short tail. It clearly understood the use of tools, as it wore a utility belt not unlike the one around Josef's battlesuit, from which hung several strange devices.
Its hands were clawed, with four digits, two of which were opposable. Other than the belt, it wore no clothing, but Josef couldn't see any sexual characteristics. It regarded him calmly, without making any movement or sound.
"H-hello," Josef said.
The doctor pushed a button on the small box-shaped device she was holding, and a weird ululating sound came out. The alien cocked its head to the side and opened its lipless mouth, revealing sharp triangular teeth. Then it made a series of noises that sounded vaguely similar to those emanating from the doctor's box.
"What's it saying?" Josef asked.
"Just a minute," the doctor said. "It's processing the data. Sometimes this takes a while."
The synthetic voice of the translator box spoke. "Greetings, Warrior God-King. New mother dead. Why kill?"
"Holy moley!" Josef couldn't believe he was actually talking with an alien! For a moment the shock of it threatened to overwhelm him, till he realized the seriousness of the alien's words. "I—We didn't kill the new mother. We are your friends." He looked anxiously at the doctor, as he waited for the translation.
"See new mother dead. See warrior plural." The next words were undecipherable, possibly a color reference. Then: "Kill."
Josef puzzled it out and answered. "Those warriors who killed the new mother—did they wear this color?" Josef pointed to a blue cloth of a shade similar to UN armor.
"Negative response."
"This color?" He pointed to his black belt.
"Negative response."
"This color?" He pointed to his chest.
The alien seemed to grow agitated, bobbing its head and making noises. "Strong affirmative response."
Josef shook his head. He never found it easy to apologize for anything, but this was impossible. He looked at Dr. Gillen. "Any suggestions? You're the xenolinguist, not me."
"I don't know what to do, Colonel. After all, we've never actually been in contact with aliens before, so all I've had to go on so far is theory, which to be honest, looks more like bullpuckey every day. Go with your gut, Colonel. Wing it. That's what I've been doing since the Estrons first came through the dimension gate six months ago."
"Fair enough." Josef turned back to face the alien. "I don't suppose you've ever read Arthur Conan Doyle?"
Chapter 24
UN Headquarters, New York
26 November 2069
2:30 P.M. EST
"I don't understand this," said Chairman Wu via the video screen. "You say you received a message saying Tycho had fallen but von Hayek and the other rebels had fled to some other location? Whom did the research station fall to? My sources tell me the NDE troops were in control of both Tycho and Port Aldrin."
"That's correct," Antonio assured him. "But two squads of ATFOR troops arrived at Tycho first, and I understand they pursued the rebel leaders through one of those teleport devices during the conflict. That's the last we've heard of it thus far, though I've instructed General Daniels to relay any links immediately."
Wu nodded. Though his face was still grave, he had lost the worried look he'd been wearing for the past twelve hours. "At least the Germans didn't capture von Hayek. That was my primary fear, that he would fall into their hands and they'd stage a formal surrender. Fortunately, that doesn't appear likely now."
"No. I'd heard they'd announced the capture of General Consensus, but it turns out they just got some major, an ex-Texan."
"That doesn't surprise me," said Wu. "The Americans are a rebellious people still. I see it every day in the streets."
"Yes, well, they haven't had the benefits of two thousand years of civilization and culture." Antonio grinned. "You must be patient, my friend." A tone sounded, and Chairman Wu's image disappeared momentarily, replaced by a text message.
"It appears that link I've been waiting for has just been relayed. I'll call you after." Wu nodded, and Antonio broke the link as he switched to the relay.
As he expected, there were no visuals, but the audio came through loud and clear. "Chairman Aguila?"
"Aguila here," he responded.
There was the usual time lag. "This is Colonel Houston. I'm afraid we haven't found von Hayek yet, but I thought you'd better know about this first." There was a pause.
"Yes? What is it?"
Three-second time lag.
"We've captured some of the rebels we were chasing. And ... well, this is going to sound crazy, but we've discovered a dead alien."
"An alien? Are you sure?"
The seconds crawled by like handicapped snails.
"Yes, I'm afraid I am, sir. Unless you know of something that looks like a giant red bug the size of an elephant."
Aguila was nonplussed. It was hard to know even where to start. He had to admit, though, the creature didn't sound like anything he'd ever heard of. "And you say it's dead?"
Time lag.
"Yeah, it's dead, all right. The Loonies killed it; they said it took thirty or forty grenades before it died. There's green blood all over the place, so I think they're telling the truth, but they don't know any more about the creature than I do. Hang on a second, and let me see if I can get my cam working again."
After a seemingly interminable wait, Antonio was rewarded with a wobbling image of the dead alien. Not knowing what to say, he settled for hitting the record button.
"So what should I do?" the colonel asked. Then: "What the hell?"
The image on the screen whirled away from the monstrous corpse and focused unexpectedly on a group of about twenty figures. Some were humans in white battlesuits, but there were other, taller figures that bore a vague resemblance to the dead monster. Suddenly the screen went black.
"Colonel? ... Colonel Houston?" Antonio smashed his fist against his desktop. "Dammit, Colonel, don't do this to me!"
But the link was broken, and even repeated attempts to relink through General Daniels failed. Antonio ground his teeth in frustration and called Chairman Wu again.
"What's going on, Antonio?" Wu asked with anticipation.
"I have absolutely no idea," he replied.
Highland Mines, Luna
26 November 2069
17:32 GMT
When she'd heard Chuck Houston's voice commanding her to drop her weapon, Bunny had known terror unlike any she'd ever known before in her life. Giant aliens with claws longer than her body vomiting explosives were bad enough, but the thought of being captured and tried as a traitor had reduced her to a two-legged mass of quive
ring panic.
Fortunately, Houston and the other ATFOR soldiers were obsessed with the alien, and Dalton—who, with his curious mind, was quite willing to let bygones be bygones in light of the situation—had answered all their questions about the killing of the monster.
Houston was standing off to the side, apparently deep in conversation with someone, while two of the other ATFOR troopers attempted to perform a crude dissection with a laser pistol. The weapon didn't make for a good scalpel, but they were just beginning to make progress when Bunny noticed movement at the northern entrance to the cavern.
"Murderer! Blasphemer!" she heard a synthetic voice pronounce judgment like the voice of God over the wide band, and a motley assortment of battlesuited LDF troopers, civilians in vacuum suits, and giant two-legged things came rushing at them.
One of the ATFOR troopers managed to squeeze off a shot from his ACR, but it ablated without much effect on the shields of an LDF trooper, and in less than ten seconds all of the ATFOR men were on the ground, held down by the clawed hands of the aliens. Dalton, Bunny, and Jeff were all knocked down too, but at the apparent command of the alien standing near Colonel von Hayek they were released and helped up by their LDF comrades.
"New mother dead. Blue warrior plural kill?" asked the synthetic voice.
"No," said Bunny, indicating Dalton, Jeff, and herself. "We killed it."
"Oh, dammit, Bunny," said Josef. "Why'd you have to say that?"
"Bunny?" said a startled Chuck Houston. "Bunny Mahoney?"
"Yeah," she replied. "Sorry to disappoint you, boss, but I kind of switched sides."
Houston snorted. "And to think I came down here to rescue you!" He turned away from her, and Bunny knew he was shaking his head inside his helmet.
"White warrior plural kill new mother," stated the alien leader. The other aliens began to ominously circle the three guilty parties.
"Wait, it was an accident!" Josef cried as the armed LDF troops began to point their weapons at the Estrons. "They didn't mean to do it! Accident. Do you understand accident? Dammit, we don't want to fight you too!"
"Understand negative. Wait, think, talk." The creature's next words were undecipherable, possibly a reference to itself. Then: "God-King."
"Doctor, what's he saying?" Josef asked as the barrel of his ACR moved back and forth between Houston and the Estron leader.
"He wants to think about what he's heard."
"Good ... I think." Josef turned to Houston. "Now, what do we do with you? We don't have the supplies or the time for prisoners. Not to mention the fact that I don't particularly want word of this incident to reach Earth."
"It already has," Houston said nonchalantly, as if unfazed by the implied threat. "I established a cam link to Earth not five minutes ago. They already know about the aliens. Teleporters too. Before the cease-fire, we picked up three of your transporter disks at Lacus Mortis."
Josef regarded him thoughtfully. "I'll have to speak to my father about this. The governor should be the one to decide what to do with you." He turned and addressed several of the LDF troopers: "Take them away."
Houston shrugged away the hand of the first guard to reach him, then looked at Bunny. "Don't think you've gotten away with anything, traitor. The UN will crush this little rebellion soon, and you with it, honey bunny."
"Whatever, Chuck." Bunny yawned. She was really too tired for this; she'd had too much high weirdness for a single day. "Say hi to Sara if you see her."
"Say hi to her yourself when you're dragged in to face the court-martial," he spat as two LDF men frog-marched him away. "Before they hang you!"
"Oh, shove it," she replied.
Dalton started laughing, then stopped when he realized he was laughing all alone. "What's wrong?" he asked, looking around, bewildered. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No," Josef said. "You did something wrong. Really wrong. So wrong, in fact, that it may go down in the history books as the biggest screwup of all time." Josef was tired too, weary to the depths of his soul. "So congratulations and come with me. We'll figure something out."
Josef turned to Dr. Gillen and pointed to the Estron leader. "Tell him we'll talk about it tomorrow, okay?" He strapped his ACR to his back and led Dalton and Bunny toward the southern end of the cavern, toward the transporter to Farside Station.
The Estrons
It was always assumed that if mankind ever did meet an intelligent alien species, it would result in a paradigm shift of unimaginable proportions. All bets would be off; all wars would stop instantly; no doubt the stock market would crash in flames. The presumption was always that the reality of alien contact would force humanity to collectively reevaluate its place in the universe and that all the people of the world would immediately join hands and hold their breath, overwhelmed by the awe of it all.
How disappointing, then, to find that despite radical differences in biochemistry, anatomy, technology, and familial organization, the Estrons in fact understood our political situation perfectly, for it mirrored their own. And not only did the encounter with the Estrons not produce an immediate end to global conflict; it in fact exacerbated it, as the Estrons were quite willing to take sides.
And prisoners.
— Chaim Noguchi, A History of the Lunar Revolution
Chapter 25
Farside Station, Luna
1 December 2069
08:00 GMT
The three ambassador-prisoners rose as their final mission briefing at last came to an end. Tara Beckman, Dr. Gillen's assistant, smiled and repeated her final instruction. "Just remember not to throw up on anyone—or anything, since you probably won't be able to tell the anyones from the anythings, at least at first. No matter how sick you feel, try to hold it until you're sure you're alone. Vomiting is seen as a mortal insult, like waving a gun in someone's face."
"Well, it's not like we're going to throw up on anyone with our suits on," Dalton said, grinning.
"Right, but as far as we've been able to understand, some kind of habitat has been prepared for you that, theoretically, should allow you to take your suits off. But you'll be okay even if the habitat doesn't work out, as we're sending plenty of oxygen recyclers and two generators through the D-gate with you, but the Estrons may decide to join you in the habitat, so it can't hurt to be reminded."
"How can they join us?" Jeff asked. "They're impervious to vacuum, too, aren't they?"
Tara shrugged. "Who knows? The Estrons don't seem to have any formalized science, at least not in the sense that we do. And yet look at their advances in matter transport. Maybe it's like Arthur Clarke said: advanced science just looks like magic. That's part of what we're hoping you'll find out."
The door slid open and Josef von Hayek walked in. "The suits are ready, gang. Ready to make history for the second time in a week?"
"Josef, I wish you'd stay here," Bunny said. "We three have to go, but you don't. I don't know why you're doing this. The Free State needs you."
"Exactly," he said. "We have no money, no resources, few weapons, and about three hundred people left to take on an entire planet. Our domes are all occupied by the enemy, and troops'll be arriving here just as soon as the UN and the NDE can come to terms. We need allies, and we need them fast." He grinned darkly. "Besides, somebody has to bring back the news if the Estron god-kings decide they want your heads on a platter."
"Very funny," Dalton replied sourly. He started to say more, but a buzzer sounded, and Josef clapped him on the shoulder.
"It's time," he said, clearly excited. "Time to go."
Shuttle "Atlantis IV," Final Approach
1 December 2069
08:15 GMT
Chuck Houston checked the straps on the acceleration couch one last time before the transport entered the Earth's atmosphere. He should be feeling lucky to be alive, he supposed, but instead he just felt empty. What had started out as a simple police action had turned into something both mysterious and awesome, and suddenly he wondered if the things he'
d been fighting for really mattered anymore.
What were a few paltry lunar colonies compared to the brilliant opportunities available among the stars? For the first time in history, human beings knew they were not alone in the universe, and suddenly the scramble for resources appeared to be nothing more than the squabbling of children fighting over mounds of sand in a sandbox.
He folded his hands together and pursed his lips, thinking. Eileen Mahoney had always been a good soldier of unquestionable loyalty. But she'd found something on the Moon that had compelled her to cast away everything— career, friends, and even Earth itself—in its favor. He could feel that thing she found, somehow, as if it were just on the tip of his mind, but he could not tell what it was. He envied Bunny, not for the choice she'd made, but for having been given opportunity to make such a decision. He couldn't find it in his heart to blame her now, and he wished he could take back his last angry words.
Oh, well. What was done was done. Chuck Houston was never a man to waste much time on philosophy or on thoughts of the past. He turned his mind from the strange events on Luna and thought about his upcoming meeting with the chairman of the Committee on Lunar Development. Speaking of opportunities, he could smell one waiting for him there, and with the tension high in the air between the United Nations and the New German Unity, there was plenty of room for a warrior.
The transport suddenly began to slow as it entered the atmosphere, and Chuck Houston smiled as he felt the pull of the Earth's gravity for the first time in a month. It was good to get back to the mother planet, he thought. It was very good.
UN Headquarters, New York
1 December 2069
3:00 A.M. EST
Antonio watched the ATFOR colonel's one-minute vid for the four hundred and eleventh time as Allegria lay sleeping next to him on the king-sized bed. He didn't know why, but it was a never-ending source of fascination to him, and he found himself almost excited at the prospect of meeting the colonel in person tomorrow.