The Gods We Make

by Eric Johannsen

  #

  “Commander, we’re through!” Air Force Chief Sergeant Jiàng said.

  The Commander looked into the docking port where Chief Jiàng and another man, Corporal Bú, worked to enter the structure. “Outstanding. How did you manage it?”

  Insight flickered in the Corporal’s eyes.

  “Unsure, Commander,” Chief Jiàng said. “We tried a number of procedures and the wall just opened.”

  The Corporal looked down and away, the gesture lost on Commander Long.

  “Interesting. A puzzle for another time. For now, we’ll assert control,” the Commander said. “We have superior numbers and the luxury of time. We shall take this structure, but we’ll do so on my terms. Don’t rush it.”

  The men nodded.

  “Captain Sima, firearms.”

  A man unlocked a cabinet and produced two assault carbines. He handed one to Chief Jiàng and one to Corporal Bú. “The green magazines contain thirty low-velocity fragmentation rounds. The red ones have standard rounds.”

  The two men nodded and loaded green magazines. The recoil from standard bullets would be hard to control in a zero-gravity environment, and the rounds would easily pierce the hull of a human spacecraft.

  “Remain in steady contact,” the commander said.

  The chief and the corporal donned tight-fitting pressure suits and slid through the opening.

  “What is this place?” Chief Jiàng asked. “The walls are strange. What could they be made of?”

  The commander’s voice sounded over the radio. “Never mind that. We’ll have ample time to analyze everything. Deal with the Americans. Shoot to kill.”

  “Yes, sir!” the chief said. He tapped his wrist, changing to a frequency only Corporal Bú’s suit would receive. He turned to the corporal and flashed a crooked smile.

  The corporal’s eyebrows raised in understanding.

  “I’m sure there will be ample time to study this Bú,” the chief said to only the corporal, “but I’m less sure you and I will have that opportunity. My guess is, they’ll lock down the whole thing once we have control.”

  “What are you going to do?” Corporal Bú asked with a shrug. “We’re just cogs in the machine.”

  Chief Jiàng ran his gloved fingers over the quasi-metallic wall, webs of plasma dancing under his fingertips. “I’ll do nothing meaningful, but I will enjoy doing it. You and I are the first Chinese to see this. Nobody can take that away.”

  “Status?” The commander’s tone was impatient.

  The chief tapped his wrist again. “We’re proceeding along a corridor. There’s a branch in ten meters.”

  “I can see that from the video feed,” the commander said. “Is there anything the feed might not show?”

  “Nothing yet, commander,” the chief said.

  They approached the intersection. The chief looked left and the corporal looked right.

  “Chief!” the corporal shouted. He pushed Chief Jiàng forward, in their original direction of travel, propelling himself back toward the opening they entered from.

  The chief’s head whirled around as he flew past the intersection. He glanced down the right-hand corridor, the one Corporal Bú checked, as he drifted past. There crouched an American soldier, in heavy combat armor, firing an assault rifle at them. His momentum carried him safely past the American’s line of sight.

  “Look out,” the chief said. “Take cover, take cover!” The words came in urgent bursts. “I thought we were dealing with two Astronauts. That soldier is armed to the teeth.” He caught is breath. “Should we return fire, commander?”

  “No,” Commander Long said. “I said, time is on our side. There’s no reason to rush things. Hold your position. We have the printer working on something to help you.”

  Minutes later, a twelve-sided drone, thirty centimeters on a side, flew in through the opening. Each facet of the dodecahodronal form contained an embedded propeller. It scooted past Corporal Bú and rounded the corner toward the American soldier.

  “Take cover,” the commander said.

  The men did. There was a loud pop. Fragments of drone shot through the intersection.

  “See if the American is dead,” the commander said.

  Chief Jiàng and Corporal Bú peeked around the corner. Pieces of the drone still swirled around the tunnel. There was no body.

  “No one here,” the chief reported.

  “That’s not possible,” Commander Long said. “We had him on video until we detonated the drone. He didn’t move away.”

  The chief and the corporal looked at each other, brows arched in confusion.

  “I don’t know what else to report,” the chief said. “He’s gone.”

  #

  A distant sound rang out. Chad flinched. An explosion! “Ian, are you all right? What’s going on?” he radioed.

  “I’m OK, for now at least.” Ian’s voice came in a whisper. “I fed my combat sim into the holo-disk Dylan gave me for Christmas. I had to overwrite the video of my family. Under the circumstances, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

  “So, they’re-”

  “Yep. Attacking my combat sim. They hit it with an explosive.”

  Chad grinned. “Clever. How long do you think it’ll fool them?”

  “They ducked for cover as soon as they saw it. I don’t know whether they returned to their ship. They sent in a drone to carry that explosive charge, which is what took out the disk. I expect they’ll be back soon enough. Hold on, two of them are peering around the corner.”

  “Do they see you?”

  “Nope. I pried off my suit camera. I’m using it to watch the corridor from a dozen meters back.”

  “You’re improvising almost as good as an engineer.” Chad chuckled. “Ian, I’m on to something, but I need more time. Can you work another miracle?”

  The radio was quiet.

  When Ian spoke, his voice was steady. “I have one more trick ready, but if I need to use it, we’ll lose coms. If that happens, I’ll meet you on the bridge.”

  Lose coms? “Let me know before you pull the trigger on that.”

  “They’re starting down the corridor. Got to go.”

  Thought. Thought. Ship, dim the lights.

  The lights dimmed.

  Ship, disable the Chinese vessel attached to your hull. Take out their power.

  He looked through the transparent, domed ceiling. Nothing happened.

  How do I get the ship to do something useful? Something to get its technology away from the Chinese? Why will it obey one command but not the other?

  “Chad they-” Ian’s voice sounded over coms.

  “Ian! You all right?”

  There was no reply.

  #

  Chief Jiàng gave a tentative burst of maneuvering thrust from his pack, nudging him through the still-swirling fragments of exploded drone. Corporal Bú was right behind him.

  “How could anyone move that fast?” the chief asked.

  “Nobody can,” Corporal Bú answered. “Maybe it was a ghost.” He chuckled.

  “It was a trick,” Commander Long said over the radio. “Focus on your mission.”

  The advancing men nodded. They approached a T intersection.

  “I’ll take left again,” the chief said. “You take right.”

  “Understood,” Corporal Bú said. He pulled his carbine closer and verified the safety was off.

  “Stop,” the commander said. “Another drone is almost completed. This one isn’t carrying an explosive, but you can call up its video feed on channel twenty-two, security protocol bravo.”

  “Thank you, commander.” Chief Jiàng wanted to wipe his brow.

  Moments later, another twelve-sided reconnaissance craft worked its way down the passage. The chief called up the video and saw himself and Corporal Bú huddled, clutching their weapons. It hovered past them, into the intersection. The video panned right, revealing five meters of empty passageway that curved sharply upward, out of sight. I
t panned left. There, crouched, seven meters down a straight passageway, in front of something resembling a door, was a NASA Astronaut. The drone pulled back.

  “Should we demand his surrender?” the chief asked over the radio.

  “They had their chance,” Commander Long’s stern voice replied. “We’re running into technical issues rigging another explosive. Take him out with gun fire.”

  “Yes, sir,” Chief Jiàng said. “Bú, on three. You go high, I’ll go low. Green magazines. We don’t want to spin out of control.”

  Corporal Bú checked his magazine and positioned himself with careful pulses from his pack at the top of the corridor.

  “On three,” Chief Jiàng said, “push in just far enough to target the American. Open fire the instant you have a shot.”

  “Understood,” Corporal Bú said.

  “One. Two. Three.”

  The men inched forward. Their eyes cleared the edge. The astronaut was on the move, hurling down the corridor, directly at them. Carbine muzzles flashed. Tracer rounds hit the astronaut, dead center. His helmet cracked. The astronaut was nearly upon them. Corporal Bú reversed his thrust.

  In his panic, Chief Jiàng did not. Helmets smashed together. Jiàng reeled about his center of gravity. There was a deafening thud. His head smacked into a corner of the passageway. His thin suit was designed to protect against vacuum, not against impact. The chief’s vision swam.

  “Are you all right? Jiàng. Jiàng!” Corporal Bú clutched Jiàng’s shoulders, staring into his eyes.

  “Yes. I’m OK. I’m fine.” Chief Jiàng shook his head. “The American?”

  “Down there.” Corporal Bú pointed to a NASA pressure suit, the limbs contorted at impossible angles.

  “How hard did he hit?” Chief Jiàng asked. “His bones must be shattered.”

  #

  Gunfire! Where the hell is Ian? Where are the Chinese? Chad gave a strong burst from his get-around, sending him darting down a passageway. He misjudged the angle, and his head cracked against a wall. The world turned dark gray and brilliant stars darted about. Chad screamed in agony. He shook his head, still shooting down the tunnel. Slowly, his vision cleared. He reversed thrust, trying to stop himself outside the snow globe room. He was still going too fast. Chad reached out and grabbed the room’s opening with both hands. The surface offered an astounding grip. He jerked to a stop, pain arcing through both shoulders. With a quick pull and a few blasts from the get-around, he was at the snow-globe-like projection of Earth. It still showed New York City. Earth’s moon appeared as he zoomed out. He pulled the view back yet further. It became apparent the projection was to scale. Think, think. Where would Jupiter be? He hastily panned the view.

  Another shot sounded in the distance.

  Hurry. He couldn’t find Jupiter. Think, think. Yes, think! Ship, please find me on this snow globe. Almost instantly, the view panned to the room he was in. He saw himself, saw the globe. Saw himself in the globe, in the globe, in the globe. He manually panned the view until he found two Chinese astronauts floating down the hall with compact rifles pointed ahead of them. They were advancing on Ian, who floated in a battered heap twenty meters further down the hall. Ian! What did you do? Chad pulled his eyebrows together and exhaled audibly. That passage should not be there. Close it off. He concentrated on a point between the Chinese and Ian. The ship responded by reforming itself, shutting off the advancing men from Ian’s position. Push them out now. The ship complied. The passageway gradually grew shut, forcing the Chinese back the way they had come. After a few minutes, they were pushed from the ship, into their own, like a body expelling a foreign object. The outer wall grew shut again.

  Now ship, move away from the other vessel. Nothing happened. Why can’t it be that easy?

  Ian. He propelled himself out of the snow globe room. He turned into the passage and plowed headlong into the navigator, sending them both tumbling. Ian, who wore only a T-shirt and his underwear, grasped Chad. They came to a stop with a gentle thud.

  “Ian! What happened?”

  “When they figured out the hologram, I knew it would take something more substantial to slow them down again. I sent my suit slamming into their boarding party at top speed, then pushed my way toward the bridge.”

  “They attacked a hologram?” Chad chuckled. “And then you bowled them over with an empty space suit? Priceless.”

  Chad’s chuckle grew into a gut-clenching roar. Ian stared at him, dumbfounded, but it was contagious. Soon, he too howled with laughter.

  Chad summarized what he had done.

  “You mean the ship… Shat them out?”

  Chad was in stitches. “I guess you could say that.”

  “Do you think we’re in the clear now?”

  “Yeah, eh, not in the slightest. We’re still up a creek.”

  “Let’s see what’s happening on their ship,” Ian said, wiping moisture from his eyes.

  Chad panned the view to the Chinese ship. He couldn’t move the view inside their ship or display any information that couldn’t be observed from the Quadriga. “It looks like there isn’t a sensor feed over there. The data that’s shown originates from here.”

  “And from Earth,” Ian said.

  “And from Earth. Get your suit and meet on the command deck. We can observe them just as well from up there, and if we get this thing moving, we might want to strap into those chairs.”

  #

  “Chad, look,” Ian said. “They’re backing off.” He was in his space suit again, watching the Shengli through the transparent ceiling of the alien bridge.

  Chad floated up to him. “Do you suppose they gave up?”

  Ian opened his mouth to answer. Then his jaw dropped.

  Something long, sleek, and extremely fast bore right at the Chinese ship, between it and the Quadriga. It clipped the Shengli, sending tiny fragments flying from its bottom, blown out by the force of escaping atmosphere.

  “What-” Ian said. “What was that?” He rewound his helmet video fifteen seconds and played it back in ultra-slow motion. “I’ll be damned! I do believe, that was one of the booster rockets from the Jupiter Express. It got them pretty good in the belly. Probably not a fatal blow, though.”

  The Chinese vessel continued to back off.

  The radio crackled in their ears. “American astronauts, I must inform you that my orders are to destroy the alien structure if we can’t control it. To that end, my ship is carrying a nuclear missile. This is your last opportunity to surrender.”

  “You think this thing can withstand a nuclear explosion?” Ian asked.

  “I have no idea. The hull material’s pretty tough and shields the environmental radiation like nothing I’ve ever seen, but a nuclear blast… I wouldn’t bet on it.” Chad chewed his lip. “Do you think they really have a nuke?”

  “Probably, yep,” Ian said.

  “Want to surrender? I don’t see any way to get this thing moving.” Why won’t it respond to my command to move?

  “Why don’t you go to the Explorer, Chad? I’m pretty sure the Chinese will accept you on board and take you home. I’m going to stay here and keep trying. Who knows, it might even survive the blast.”

  “Naw, if I do that, they’ll just try and make me help them get back in.” And the greatest engineering marvel in the known universe would slip right through my fingers. “I won’t give them that opportunity. Besides, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe the ship can survive.”

  The stripes and swirls of Jupiter passed beneath the Quadriga. Chad and Ian spread out in the ship, searching every corner for some means to control it. Ten minutes passed, then twenty.

  A call came over the radio. It was Commander Long. “American astronauts, I must fulfill my orders. Reconsider. We can bring this structure back to Earth together. It will be under Chinese control but for the benefit of humanity. And you will be alive.”

  Ian and Chad didn’t answer. Together, they moved to the bridge for perhaps their last view of the stars and of t
he stunning gas giant below.

  “Very well. I have launched the weapon. I regret to inform you that it will detonate in… sixty-five seconds,” Commander Long said.

  Chad and Ian cut off the radio. They floated in silence, staring out at Jupiter and the heavens.

  “Do you believe in God?” Chad asked.

  “Yes, Chad. Yes, I do. All my life, I have known God is part of the world, part of my existence.” He spoke with gentle conviction.

  “Now that we’re going to be a pile of radioactive ash in less than a minute, I sure wish I had your certainty. Our best understanding of theoretical physics leaves some room for a soul and an afterlife. There is certainly a body of anecdotal evidence. Near-death experiences, people coming back from the brink of death claiming to have seen loved ones and to have been in the presence of a being embodying love and acceptance. The trouble is, all that can be explained without invoking God. Right about now, faith would be a welcome comfort.”

  Ian took Chad’s hand in both of his.

  Think. Think hard. This ship needs to get out of here, right now. If it doesn’t move, we will die.

  The ship complied. In the blink of an eye, it moved a thousand kilometers.

  “What the… how did you do that?” Ian’s mouth struggled to form the words.