Outward Borne

by R. J. Weinkam

  In contrast, the Federal Government’s anxiety increased in direct proportion to the public’s anticipation. From the first, the U.S. Government considered the arrival of the Voyagers to be some species of disruption that they rather not permit. They were worried about the unknown, or perhaps that they could do so little about it. The military could not locate the main ship or communicate with it directly. They had underestimated how far away the Outward Voyager was, and how fast it was traveling. That infamous Administration had suspended elections and a number of freedoms by claiming that their continued rule was in the interest of National Security. They maintained power at that time by effectively controlling political and news communications within the country, and it saw the new arrivals as an independent voice that might prove difficult to manage. They were correct in this. The ObLaDas acted from the beginning, with an independence and openness that was to become a characteristic mode of behavior. The Earth’s populace, however, did not view the arrival of a mere thirty-seven humans as any kind of threat and largely ignored the government’s dire reservations. The people wanted to meet their fellow men, see what they looked like, hear their stories, and share their lives.

  The final communication from the Outward Voyager was sent as the lander assembly entered the solar system. It laid out the series of events that were to follow in more detail than ever before. The landing would occur in a remote, but still undefined, location. No access to the interior of the lander, or to its technology, would be allowed while it was on the surface and, from here on, the Voyagers would be the sole contact with Earth. No further communication would originate from the Outward Voyager as it passed beyond the solar system. Travel from the Outward Voyager to Earth was very stressful, it explained, so that the Voyagers would require two to three weeks to recover their health and complete preparations to leave the ship. The People would then depart and make themselves known. After they had been properly welcomed, the lander would return to the Outward Voyager. The world’s population groaned when told that they would need to wait for twenty or more days after the landing to see the space men. It was widely held to be unbearable.

  Anticipation of the arrival grew ever higher. A worldwide lookout began as the landing date approached. The path of the approaching probe was plotted. There were sightings as the large vehicle moved into a high geosynchronous orbit over the mid-Pacific. The lander was, in fact, only a small segment of the assembly. The main unit, consisting largely of the engine that would power the craft back to the Outward Voyager, would stay in orbit and wait for the landing craft to return from the surface. This was the first time the ObLaDas had attempted to land a living being on any planet. The rapid deceleration, with its extreme g-forces and prolonged stress, would be so severe that the human body could survive only while immersed in a pressure-distributing chamber. Immobilized, unconscious, with intravenous feeding, and respiratory assistance, their bodies would deteriorate rapidly. The landing probe would require fifty-two days to slow from the Outward’s cruising speed and enter Earth orbit even at the most extreme deceleration that could be tolerated. No delays were acceptable. Some deaths were expected. It was a very dangerous trip, and the end game was more hazardous still. Resuscitation and recovery would require flawless robotic operations and the ability to provide whatever emergency medical care may be required. When alien species were captured and brought on board the Outward, the ObLaDas themselves, with full access to the Outward’s medical facilities, could provide the care needed to revive the captives, here, the Voyagers recovery would be entirely dependent on robots with their limited ability to deal with the unanticipated. It would have been a disaster to all should those systems fail and the worst happen. The craft was equipped to return intact should the landing go badly wrong.

  It was clear and warm throughout the western United States the day the lander entered the upper atmosphere, tracing long, looping spirals high in the sky. The glint from its polished surface was visible from California to southern Washington during most of its slow descent. As the flight straightened its path over southern Oregon and entered its final glide south along the crest of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, fewer and fewer people were able to follow its path. No one actually saw the craft touch down. The remote valley was uninhabited that afternoon. The landing site was an official wilderness area then called Tower Canyon, a pretty high-mountain meadow in the Sierra backcountry, about forty miles north of Yosemite Valley. The site was hours from the nearest road at that time, though it is now a tourist Mecca.

  Moments after the craft landed, a stream of very small flybots were sent out to hide in the nearby cliffs and trees where they would wait and monitor the flood of people and military forces that were already making their way to the landing site. The first to arrive and attain their moment of fame were Rick Gregory and Evelyn Oesterbaun. They had been camping in the Hoover Wilderness just to the north of the canyon, and were so out of touch with events that they were unaware that the entry was taking place. That ended abruptly when they saw, heard, and felt the lander fly close over their campsite and then disappear behind nearby trees. They ran to the edge of the ridge in time to see the ship resting at the south end of the meadow. Rick had his pocket computer and took some photos as they approached the ship. He had the foresight to upload the images to his website or they would never have been seen.

  As is well known, U.S. military helicopters were the next to arrive at the landing site. They had been in flight even before the craft touched down. The Army men took Rick and Evelyn into custody, confiscated their possessions, and began to set up a secure perimeter around the valley. They did not have enough troops to do it, however, and before more could arrive, the populous descended upon them. There had been an announcement that unauthorized flights over the area would be forbidden, but it was largely ignored. The meadow was already being overwhelmed by an armada of news helicopters, private planes, hang gliders, and sky jumpers that poured into the canyon, to be followed by a horde of hikers that came through the wilderness as fast as they could. They came and they would stay.

  The lander was the size of a small passenger jet, but with stubby wings and a fat, sculpted body. There were no windows anywhere, but it had some panels that looked as though they could be removed, and doors that slid open and closed very quickly. A small, complicated thing emerged from the top shortly after the craft settled. Other than that, the ship stood quiet and motionless at the base of the meadow, sun glinting off its shiny silver surface, a foreign mechanical presence in the state of nature. The first people to arrive pressed closer in their excitement than the military wanted them to, but eventually, the Army succeeded in setting up a permanent barrier a short way off from the lander. They all waited and speculated.

  Within the lander, the Voyagers were doing as well as could be hoped, but their transfer was not without incident. It was not widely publicized, but two Voyagers died during the mission. They deserve to be recognized. Alex Alexon was a young man of twenty-six years, not handsome by any account, but well liked and admired. He was a gifted mathematician with a well-reasoned, practical approach to life. The ObLaDas had high expectations for Alexi and expected him to emerge as a leader of the Voyager community on Earth. His death was a great loss. Alexi died en route after his life support system malfunctioned and he failed to receive sufficient nutrition to survive. Sherit NorBa was only sixteen, the youngest voyager. The petite, pretty, personable child did not recover from the flight and died on Earth without seeing the blue sky, her fondest wish. It seems that she was too young and frail to bear the hardships of the journey. Thirty-five people survived the flight, though several were exceptionally weak. They recovered, but required most of the available time to gain sufficient strength to stand and walk out of the lander into the glare of the sun and worldwide attention.

  The Voyagers brought their dogs, of course, sixteen of them. In spite of the ObLaDas’ reluctance expend resources for the dog’s sustaining chambers, the people refused to participate
in the mission unless they could take their favorite companions. So dogs returned to Earth, where they turned out to be wonderful ambassadors, and were once again a convincing affirmation of their masters’ humanity.

  There were no messages of any kind from the Outward Voyager. It, and the one hundred and ninety-three humans still on board, was moving quickly beyond our solar system. Their intentions and destination were never made known. Nothing more could be done for those who had embarked on their new life. Only a small satellite remained. It would silently monitor events on Earth, and someday send its information to ObLa.

  The U.S. Army had established a cordon around the landing craft, and was making plans to take control of the Voyagers as soon as they left the ship. A large and growing signal team monitored the craft and made continuous attempts to establish contact. The ship was exchanging low-level signals with something, the flybots they learned after one was triangulated. The army’s signals were being received, but the only transmissions from the lander were some indecipherable clicks and squeals. Two weeks had passed in this decidedly anticlimactic way before the Voyagers were able to respond. Ragnar Jondar, the designated leader, was too weak to make the planned announcement, so the task fell to Tullie Umdohar, a twenty-three year old seamstress and aspiring painter. Fourteen days after the landing, she made the first direct radio contact with the people of Earth. The Voyagers had a simple, low power radio receiver/transmitter that worked on a single frequency. Tullie was not familiar with the thing, and had some difficulty getting it to work. When she did, she heard a bored young man repeating, for the umpteenth time, “Echo Bravo calling lander, please respond.”

  So she said, “Yes, hello there.” Not very momentous, but easy to remember.

  Surprised, the communications officer scrambled to find his commander. The senior officer at the landing site, Colonel James Fitzsimmons, introduced himself, but Tullie had a hard time understanding his accent, so she did not say much. The Colonel had three daughters and this person sounded like them, just a shy young girl, he thought. Well, he had his orders, and without asking about the Voyagers’ wishes, he laid out the Army’s plans to remove them from the ship and the immediate vicinity. In brief, all occupants would put on protective clothing, evacuate the ship at the first possible moment, after which they would be decontaminated and transported directly to a military hospital where they would be held in quarantine until it was considered appropriate for them to be released.

  It was unfortunate that Ragnar was not able to participate in a dialog with Colonel Fitzsimmons. It might have avoided some misunderstandings. As it was, Tullie did not know what to say. She declined to comment on the suggested agenda, which she found rather scary, and went on to read the message that the Voyagers had prepared. The ObLaDas had instructed them to make some kind of appearance as soon as they were able. So the Voyagers had organized a brief presentation that would be made from the lander in two days time, even though most would be far from ready to leave.

  “Two people, Rodik Norik and Cari Umballa, will emerge from the lander and make a brief address of greetings. They will stand on a platform, but not put a foot to Earth at that time.” Tullie paused, was it the right way to say that? “After their brief address, they will reenter the landing craft and wait until all of the People are recovered so that they can make the momentous step onto Earth together.”

  There was no immediate reply. Colonel Fitzsimmons was surprised that the girl was speaking English, though she was difficult to understand. He was in continuous contact with his superiors, who were, in fact, listening in, so after a brief pause he communicated their expressed objections. No appearance by the Voyagers was authorized at this time, adding that it was not considered safe for them to do so.

  “CorNel JaMes,” Tullie never knew anyone who did not have a two-syllable name and she did not know what his title meant, “cannot your safety concerns be addressed by withdrawing your people from the vicinity of the lander to whatever distance you would consider adequate?” It seemed to make sense to her. She never suspected that the Voyagers safety might be at risk.

  The Colonel, perhaps a bit surprised by the blithe response from an obviously young woman, was about to restate his ‘no public address will be permitted’ demand, when a signals officer pulled him aside, and told him that the conversation was being broadcast live. In that brief moment, the announcement of the Voyagers’ appearance had flashed across the blogosphere. The Army did not own all of the tech gear in that valley. Several individuals, as well as the news organizations, were monitoring and transmitting the conversation live, or almost live. It was an impressive display of networking.

  Another voice came on; this one was a little more diplomatic. “FitzSimmon Colonel JaMes, our apologies if we seem to have done something inappropriate, but it is our understanding that as long as we remain on the lander, we are able to conduct our own actions. Therefore, you do not have authority over our behavior. We wish for your welcome, and we are pleased to be here, and we will be pleased to speak with you on arrangements in the future.”

  Colonel Fitzsimmons was not sure where these people had gotten their ideas, or if they were even getting their words right. They would be correct if this were some plane arriving at an International Airport, he supposed. That was some kind of stateless territory, at least until you passed through customs. This was hardly the same thing, he thought, but maybe they were correct. Fitzsimmons had no feelings against these people and would not press the issue beyond his orders. Conceding the appearance, he stated that no media would be would be permitted to record the event, citing the same safety issues as before. The voice answered that no such arrangements would be necessary. The Colonel was not sure what he meant by that.

  At 2:00 PM PST, on a fine Tuesday morning, when the main hatch first cracked opened beneath the lander. Two rather large flybots emerged; one flew over the mountain meadow, passing close to the surrounding troops, spectators, and nearby mountains, some with patches of snow still visible, while the other took up a position to the side of the lander and waited. The images captured by the bots began appearing on television networks and social media almost immediately, and continued for thirty-seven minutes, which gave people around the world time to take out their computers to watch the event take place in real time. Rodik Norik and Cari Umballa were standing on the lift as it descended below the lander. The lift stopped a short distance above the ground and a ramp moved horizontally, bringing them out from beneath the ship and into the sunshine. They stood, smiling, made comments to one another, then looked up at the blue sky and floating clouds, and around the beautiful open valley that they had chosen. Rugge, an exceptionally tall red racer, stepped out from behind Rodik and sat to the right of Cari. The three remained there, without speaking, taking in the novel sights and smells, respectively. Their image was shown from a low level making them appear even taller and statelier than they were.

  Rodik and Cari had dressed with care. Rodik stood straight, with his long blond hair, blue eyes, and tall slim frame. He looked almost regal. He held his right arm bent at the elbow with his hand extended palm up. Cari placed her arm on top of his with her hand palm down, a position of respect and greeting. She had wavy, deep red hair, and a very pale complexion that she was about learn, to her dismay, freckled in the sunlight. Ignoring the Das’ wish that they blend in, each wore their personal colors and design elements, well-fitted pants and mid-length sleeved tops with contrasting shoulder capes. The colors were not far different from what might be found on Earth, but the fabric was unusually light and deeply dyed. They looked different, dressed different, and acted different. It took some getting used to.

  Rodik took a half step forward and began his prepared address. “Cari Umballa,” he began, bowing slightly in her direction, “and I, Rodik Norik, are most incredibly pleased to represent our fellow Voyagers in expressing our joy in being here on Earth and to present greetings to you one and all. We hope that you will accept us and give us welcome
to your land so that we may learn of the wonderful life and peaceful world that you have created. Many centuries ago, our ancestors were taken from their villages here on Earth and brought to an interstellar spaceship we know as the Outward Voyager. They were captured by an alien species, the ObLaDas, who roam the galaxy seeking intelligent life forms that they wish to study, understand, and assist. We, the People of the Outward Voyager, made a life for ourselves on that ship through many generations, as did several other alien life forms. The ObLaDas know that advanced civilizations are rare and fragile and that the beings that created those civilizations, however different they may be, deserve their respect and esteem. The ObLaDas have committed themselves to foster and sustain advanced life within the galaxy. As part of that mission, some of the People on the Outward were chosen and returned to Earth. We are saddened to have left our families and friends behind, but we now look forward to making a new life, with new friends, and new families, here on Earth.” Rodik ended with a slight bow, and looked toward the mountains, clearly relieved that he was finished.

  Cari Umbala stepped forward and stood even with Rodik. Again placing her arm on his, she began, “I, Cari Umbala, cannot express the joy that I feel in looking upon the blue sky, floating clouds, and this incredibly varied and beautiful land. I can hear birds singing. The sound of birds,” she sobbed, knees buckling slightly. Rodik bent to hold her while she regained her composure. “The sound of birds is legend among us. They are known from a poem written by one of the original captives in which she described what she missed most on leaving Earth. Oh, we are so happy to be here.” she turned away as the cheers and yells from the people lining the cordon were clearly heard, but she could not continue. Cari, it is true, was overcome with emotion, but in fact, she was also very weak from the ordeal, and had only the day before stood unaided for the first time.