Flight

by Bernard Wilkerson

It took hours for the Hrwang to figure out how to dock with the Beagle. The science vessel wasn’t designed to sit in one of the Hrwang hangars. It had been built in space and its designers never intended it to land anywhere, especially inside of an alien spacecraft.

  The Hrwang finally rigged an emergency escape tunnel between the airlocks of the two vessels. Beagle’s crew had to monitor her position carefully to keep from pulling away and damaging the tunnel.

  “It will not hold air,” the Lieutenant Grenadier warned them.

  That meant only two of them could go over. Their third EVA suit would be kept in reserve in case someone needed rescuing.

  Stanley wasn’t sure he wanted Irina to be the second, but she insisted.

  They had practiced EVAs, or extra-vehicular activities, at least a dozen times and Stanley thought he would feel confident passing through the tunnel to the Hrwang ship. But regardless of how long he had been in zero or low gravity, it still felt like he was falling when he stepped out of the ship and on to the flimsy rail surrounded by nothing more than a mylar-like tube. There were guide wires that Stanley clung to as he scooted across.

  He stepped quickly into the open airlock of the Hrwang vessel and felt the relief of solid plating under his boots. Irina entered after him, looking poised.

  The airlock door closed and they heard the Lieutenant Grenadier’s voice.

  “Remain still.”

  “We made it,” Stanley said into the suit radio for the benefit of the remaining crew of the Beagle.

  “Good luck, sir,” Lieutenant Commander Purcella, his communications officer, replied.

  They heard air filling the airlock.

  “Will it be safe to breathe?” Irina asked.

  Stanley had been wondering the same thing, but now felt that Irina was being a Nervous Nellie again.

  “Of course. They breathed on Earth. They wouldn’t have brought us over here if it wasn’t safe.”

  The words made Stanley feel a tiny bit better. Irina didn’t reply. Stanley realized too late he had left his radio on the frequency being monitored by the Beagle. Oh well, he thought. It’s what Irina got for asking a stupid question.

  The inner door to the airlock hissed open. Stanley stepped out into a tiny room with another door on the other side.

  “Please remove all your clothes.”

  “Seriously?” Irina yelled.

  “We must take precautions,” the Lieutenant Grenadier replied over the speaker.

  “I don’t like this.”

  “It’s okay, Commander,” Stanley said. “We probably took the same sorts of precautions when the Hrwang landed on Earth.”

  “All of them?” Irina yelled at the speaker.

  “Please. I apologize,” the speaker said back

  She shook her head and began removing her space suit.

  A few minutes later Stanley stood naked in front of the door. Irina still wore a tank top and briefs. He looked at her disapprovingly.

  “No way,” she said.

  Stanley shrugged.

  “We’re ready,” he called up to the ceiling.

  “Are you completely unclothed?”

  “At least they’re not spying on us,” Irina whispered.

  “Commander,” Stanley started saying, then stopped. He had almost said her name before remembering the Hrwang’s prohibition on using names. “My second-in-command has reservations about becoming completely naked.”

  “I apologize. We did not consider that you should have come over separately because you are male and female, but the next procedure is required. We must spray all of your skin with a disinfectant.”

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” Irina yelled. Then to Stanley, “You face forward and don’t look behind you.” She added a beat later, “Sir.”

  “Not a problem, Commander.”

  He heard her undressing behind him.

  “We’re really ready this time,” Stanley called out.

  “Your attendants do not know how to speak your language. They will spray you with the disinfectant. It will not hurt your eyes but you may wish to close them anyway.”

  “Attendants! Who said anything about attendants?” Irina yelled behind him. Stanley half turned to say something to her when she commanded, “Eyes forward, buddy.”

  “I apologize,” the disembodied Lieutenant Grenadier’s voice repeated. “This is necessary. These attendants treat everyone returning from the planet’s surface. They will be quick.”

  “You could go back,” Stanley offered with a glimmer of hope.

  “Fat chance,” Irina replied, then added after waiting another half second, “Sir.”

  No matter how good a mood Stanley was in, that woman could always ruin it.

  “I’m ready,” Irina called up to the ceiling, “but could you at least send a woman to decontaminate me?”

  “I apologize,” the Lieutenant Grenadier said. “We have no female crew.”

  Even Stanley was surprised. Surely a race as advanced as the Hrwang would treat their women equally. Why was there no female crew?

  “It figures,” Irina said sarcastically. “Let’s get this over with.”

  The door opened and two figures clad in something that looked like hazmat suits stepped into the tiny room. They picked up the loose clothing off the ground and put it into bags that they sealed. The EVA suits were left in the corner.

  One carried both bags of clothing out of the room and the other pulled out a nozzle and pointed it at Stanley’s head. Stanley nodded and closed his eyes and mouth tightly. The attendant squirted a warm, foamy substance on his head and it felt sort of good.

  “Do I need to rub it around?” Stanley called out carefully so as to not get any in his mouth.

  The attendant said something but his words were foreign and muffled.

  “Just raise your arms and spread your feet apart,” the voice said over the speakers.

  The foam actually felt good. These Hrwang are quite civilized, Stanley thought.

 

  1804 watched from a distance as the emergency escape tunnel was used to connect the Hrwang command vessel with the space ship it had retrieved from orbit around the fourth planet. It felt something akin to frustration as the Hrwang engineers struggled to attach a standard docking ring to the alien vessel, then a transfer tunnel, then finally the emergency tunnel which was designed to mate to any surface, damaged craft in mind.

  Once the aliens were safely aboard the command vessel, 1804 received confirmation to proceed with the remainder of its mission.

  The Lord Admiral of the Fleet of the People sat at his desk in his cabin. His was a small cabin, but larger than any others in the fleet. His desk had nothing personal on it, just reports, except for a wall-mounted digital picture viewer. The default picture, one of his wife and children hiking near Mount Esrain, showed now. He looked at it and spoke a command. The picture scrolled to a young woman on a beach. He didn’t even know who she was; it was simply a stock picture that had come with the device. He liked it.

  It scrolled again and showed the Lord Protector’s mansion from an aerial view. He commanded the viewer to stop. It was an impossibly luxurious palace. A desire welled up within him that he felt he couldn’t control. He wanted to live there.

  A speaker buzzed. He no longer had time to read reports about the conditions on the planet below or of the status of the various vessels that were waking sufficient crew for their missions. Or to look at useless pictures and daydream. He spoke a command and the viewer cycled back to the default picture.

  Time to meet some aliens and put his plans in motion.

  Stanley stood almost six inches taller than his second-in-command, but the Hrwang had provided two same-sized, unmarked, light gray jumpsuits. His sat two inches short on his arms and several inches higher than his bare feet. He could barely zip it up. Hers w
as too long, and she had to roll the cuffs on both arms and legs. She looked like she could swim out of the neck.

  They looked ridiculous.

  They didn’t even have shoes.

  Once they were dressed, one of the attendants returned, sans hazmat suit, with two metal tubes, each about four inches long and a half inch diameter. He wore a similar, unmarked gray jumpsuit.

  The Lieutenant Grenadier’s voice came over a speaker.

  “Please allow us to vaccinate you. It is a necessary precaution.”

  “Vaccinate us? Against what?” Stanley asked.

  “Disease,” the voice replied.

  Irina rolled her eyes.

  Then she rolled her sleeve up.

  Stanley tried, but the narrow jumpsuit sleeves didn’t want to go much higher up his arm. The attendant didn’t seem to care. He pushed the tube against Stanley’s shoulder, through the jumpsuit, and Stanley felt a slight pressure, but it didn’t hurt.

  After injecting Irina, the attendant left.

  “It didn’t hurt,” Stanley said. Irina ignored him, looking around.

  A young man, his hair cropped close, came through the doorway next. He was short, with a barrel chest and large arms and wore the same, unmarked, gray jumpsuit. He held out his left hand.

  “Pleased to meet you,” he said.

  Stanley reached his left hand out and shook the man’s.

  “I’m Captain,” Stanley said, almost saying his name, “I mean, I’m the Captain of the Beagle.”

  “I am the Lieutenant Grenadier.”

  “I am the Commander second-in-command,” Irina said, reaching out her right hand. The man awkwardly switched hands and shook it.

  “On Earth we normally shake with our right hands,” Stanley said nervously.

  “I apologize.” The Lieutenant Grenadier extended his right hand now to Stanley and they shook again. “I saw many forms of greeting on your broadcasts and this looked like the most appropriate. I apologize if I have violated your custom.”

  “No, no. You’re fine. We appreciate your concern. It was most appropriate,” Stanley said.

  The Lieutenant Grenadier nodded.

  “How do you greet each other?” Stanley asked.

  “Like so.” The Lieutenant Grenadier nodded again. “Then the junior person speaks the senior person’s designation, then the senior acknowledges if he chooses.”

  “Like a salute,” Stanley said.

  The Lieutenant Grenadier looked puzzled.

  “Show him a salute, Commander,” Stanley suggested.

  Irina returned a withering look.

  “Go ahead,” Stanley said.

  Irina saluted. “This is how members of the military greet each other, the junior ranking member saluting first, much the same as you describe.”

  The Lieutenant Grenadier smiled. “We have much in common.”

  Stanley returned his smile. “We do. I am very excited to meet you, to tour your ship, and learn everything about you.”

  The Lieutenant Grenadier grinned. “We are most pleased to meet you. Please follow me.”

  He turned suddenly. “I apologize. You will want to wear these.” He opened a locker on the wall and pointed to shelves of booties. “The ship does not rotate like yours, thus there is no gravity. These will help you walk.”

  “How do they work?” Stanley asked.

  The Lieutenant Grenadier thought for a moment, then answered, “They stick to metal below the floor.”

  “Magnets,” Stanley said.

  “Yes,” the other grinned. “Magnets. Your clothes are magnets also, so you can sit down.”

  “Clever,” Stanley said. Irina looked at her suit like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be wearing a great big magnet or not.

  They picked out booties that fit, and then the Lieutenant Grenadier led them out of the room and into a corridor where he pushed off from the floor and floated away headfirst. Stanley followed hesitatingly, using a guide rail to pull himself along, half walking, half floating.

  The Lieutenant Grenadier led them to a room, opening a hatch. He invited them to enter, but did not go with them.

  “Please take your seat,” he said.

  Irina entered first.

  “It looks like a submarine mess hall,” she said.

  Stanley entered behind her. There were several small, metal tables bolted to the walls with metal benches attached to them. Cabinets and shelves covered every available piece of wall real estate and there were several blank monitors hanging from the ceiling.

  “Please take your seat,” the Lieutenant Grenadier repeated.

  “He means have a seat,” Stanley said quietly.

  “I know what he means,” Irina hissed back.

  They sat at a table where they could see the door they had just entered. The Lieutenant Grenadier smiled. “Do not stand when the Lord Admiral enters. Just nod and greet him.”

  “Okay. Thank you,” Stanley said. The Hrwang nodded and left, closing the hatch. It sealed with a thud and a latching sound.

  “I don’t like being locked in here,” Irina said.

  “We’re not locked in. All the hatches probably seal. You know, for fire or something.”

  Irina thought for a moment. “Air,” she finally said. “They seal for air. This is a combat vessel. It’s designed to withstand breaches. Sections can be closed off to prevent air loss throughout the ship.”

  Stanley thought she was probably right, it made sense, but he didn’t want to say it. She could also be wrong.

  They waited a few minutes, Stanley inspecting the alien ship. Only it didn’t look alien. It looked so perfectly human. He’d never been inside of a submarine, but it really did look like how he might have imagined it. The Beagle didn’t have a mess hall. There was a small galley where the crew prepared meals, but people ate where they wanted to eat.

  He was on an alien ship, though. No matter how human the occupants looked, he was on a alien ship, one that looked massive compared to the Beagle, which was the finest of what Earth could build. The alien propulsion systems alone must be incredible. He couldn’t wait to take a tour.

  He marveled at the suit he wore. It held him to the bench when he sat, but he could move comfortably, just as if gravity held him in place. Even his arms could rest comfortably on the table, the magnet suit hold them just in place. He experimented with how much he had to pull up to free the suit from the table.

  The hatch cycled open and his and Commander Samovitch’s attention was immediately drawn to it. Through the opening stepped a tall, thin man with short, light colored hair speckled with gray. His eyes were pale blue, his nose and ears a little large, his arms and legs long and gangly. He wore the same style jumpsuit that Stanley, Irina, and the rest of the crew wore. Only his fit like it had been hand tailored for him.

  Stanley wanted to stand, but remembered the Lieutenant Grenadier’s instructions. He nodded.

  “You are the Lord Admiral, I presume?”

  The man nodded back. “You must be the Captain. I am pleased to meet you.” He extended his right hand to Stanley and Stanley partway stood off the bench and took it. They shook, the Lord Admiral having a firm grip, his hands stronger than his thinness might suggest. Stanley shook the man’s hand firmly back.

  The Lord Admiral shook Irina’s hand also, holding on to it for a moment. He smiled with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

  “It has been a long time since my crew has seen a woman. You are most beautiful.”

  Irina hated being treated like a woman. She always wanted to be treated like an officer, and Stanley wondered how she would react to the man’s compliment. She half smiled and nodded back at the man, sitting back down when their hands released. Stanley watched his second-in-command’s reactions and decided Irina liked the man, treating him like she might t
reat an admiral in her own military.

  The Lord Admiral sat down on a bench attached to the table next to theirs, his back against the table. He looked between both of them. He grinned a little.

  “We must get you clothes that are your size. Before we eat a meal with the crew. You must look better.”

  “That would be nice, sir. Thank you,” Irina said.

  The Lord Admiral looked at Stanley, contemplating something, then asked, “Why do you greet each other with your right hand?”

  “It’s our custom. I don’t know why,” Stanley replied.

  “If I may, sir, I know why,” Irina said. Stanley nodded and the Lord Admiral turned his attention on her, a content look on his face. This man could lead armies and nations, Stanley thought.

  Irina explained. “When people used to carry swords, most of them were right handed. If a man shook your right hand with his, neither of you could have a drawn sword.”

  The Lord Admiral listened carefully, then pulled a small tablet out of his pocket. He typed something into it, frowned, then asked Irina how to spell ‘sword’. She told him.

  He held the tablet towards them and there was a picture of a wicked looking blade on it, the hilt barbed, with additional barbs halfway down the length of it.

  “Yes, that’s a sword,” Irina said.

  The Lord Admiral turned the tablet back so he could look at the picture again.

  “You are truly a warrior people.”

  Stanley frowned. He was a scientist, not a warrior, and he was proud of it. But Irina spoke before he could say something.

  “Where did you learn to speak English so well, sir?” she asked.

  “Please, do not call me ‘sir’. Call me Lord Admiral. Your Captain is your ‘sir’. Am I correct?”

  Stanley had never seen Irina so conflicted. He almost laughed at her.

  “Captain Rus..., the Captain, is the civilian commander of the mission we are currently on. But I am part of the United Nations Navy and I’m the second-in-command, Lord Admiral.”

  “Do all of your women serve in the military?” he asked.

  “No. Military service is not compulsory for men or women, Lord Admiral.”

  He shook his head and frowned, looking down at his tablet.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “There’s no draft. No obligation to serve.”

  The Lord Admiral stared at his tablet. “Ah,” he said, then said a word that sounded like ‘bread’ to Stanley.

  “Now I understand.” He looked up. “We have no women in our military.”

  Irina bristled a little. She suddenly seemed a little less impressed with the Hrwang Lord Admiral. Stanley jumped in. It was time for diplomacy.

  “As my second-in-command said, Lord Admiral, your English is amazing. How did you learn it so quickly?”

  “Much hard work,” the Lord Admiral replied. “And this translates your words as you speak them, when it knows what they are.” He held up the tablet. “Only automated translations are not good. Words are mixed up.” Stanley saw a strange script on the screen. The letters looked like a cross between Arabic and Sanskrit. “And we have other ways.”

  “But how did your people learn English in the first place?” Stanley asked.

  The Lord Admiral consulted his tablet, then said, “Drones returned with years of broadcasts. Our scientists who are good with languages studied them and I prepared for this mission by studying the dominant language. But many things about it confuse us. Talking to you is helping.”

  “We have many languages on Earth. I’m sure it’s confusing,” Stanley said.

  “We have many languages also, Captain,” the Lord Admiral replied. “On Earth, my Earth, we have many peoples and countries and languages.” He smiled and his eyes held the same twinkle as they had when he told Irina she was beautiful. “Captain, remember. We are just as human as you.”

  “How?” Stanley asked, not even realizing how curious he was about the Lord Admiral’s humanness until he asked. He still sort of expected the man to be a lizard cloaking himself inside of a human body, or any other of a hundred crazy theories proposed by the conspiracy nuts on Earth. How could the Hrwang have possibly evolved the same way as humans? Did the aliens even know why people from two different star systems were both human? And how much did they have in common? Stanley realized he had many questions. He wondered what answers the Hrwang had.

  He didn’t expect the first answer he received, though. What the Lord Admiral said next shocked him.

  “You believe in God, right, Captain? Did he not create the humans on your world after his image, just as he did the humans on my world?”

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