Sato grimaced inwardly, expecting a droning catalog of esoteric genetic technobabble, but he, along with most of the rest of the audience, was surprised as Larsen’s stage fright was overcome by enthusiasm for his topic.
“You have already seen many incredible things in the various reports from the analyses of Aurora and young Lieutenant Sato,” Larsen began, reading from his notes after clearing his throat several times. “But I believe that those revelations pale in significance to the findings I bring before you now.” He groped around on the podium for a moment, finally finding the control to bring up his first display.
“Here you see the double-helix that we are all familiar with,” he explained as a strand of DNA slowly turned on the screen behind him. “While it varies depending on the species used for comparison, human DNA - a reconstruction of which you see on the screen behind me - is much more similar to other Earth-descended life forms than it is different. For example, we share roughly ninety-five percent commonality in our DNA with chimpanzees.” A second strand of DNA appeared on the screen next to the first, with a watermark of a chimp behind it. To the untrained eye, the two strands were identical.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” Larsen said, for the first time glancing up from his prepared notes, clearly excited, “I know that you expected me to ramble on about gene sequences and such. But there is no need once you’ve seen this.”
The chimp DNA disappeared, and was replaced by the image of a new double helix. It was nearly twice as long as the human DNA strand, and had strange protrusions from the helix at regular intervals along its length. The audience made a collective gasp: Larsen’s team had only just finished their analysis, and no one, not even Tiernan, had yet seen the results until now.
“Yes, ladies and gentlemen,” Larsen told them, turning to look admiringly at the image. “This is something entirely new to our science! Nowhere in all the worlds we have surveyed have we seen anything like it. Some parts of it, we understand; others, such as these strange extensions-” he pointed to one of the protrusions, “-continue to baffle us. There is much controversy among those of us looking at the samples brought back by Lieutenant Sato. But there are two incontrovertible facts. First, that this gene sequence can encode vastly more information than our own DNA; and second, that it is not from any known species of life that humanity has ever encountered and sampled.
“While this is all still very preliminary,” he went on, turning back to his stunned audience, “I feel compelled to point out that a majority of my colleagues are convinced that the species or sub-species that this sample came from was genetically engineered, that there is far too much data in the structure to have been encoded naturally, even over an extended period of evolution. Others believe differently. I myself am not yet decided on the matter. But we are all in agreement that it is of completely unknown origin.”
“I don’t bloody believe it,” someone murmured.
I wish I could say that, Tiernan thought. Whether Sato had really found blue-skinned alien women from hell out in deep space or not, something was out there. “Thank you, Dr. Larsen,” he told him, relieved that the haunting image of that alien DNA had been taken off the screen.
As Larsen shuffled off the stage, Tiernan turned to look directly at Sato. “Okay, son, it’s your show.”
Sato took his place at the podium, facing his audience. In his earlier life, he would have been terrified of briefing such an assembly of senior officers and civilians. But he had already come to know many of them fairly well over the last few weeks through an endless series of vidcom calls, and what he had experienced on the Aurora had forever changed his threshold of fear. His eye caught Steph sitting in the back row, again wearing her “killer red dress,” as she liked to call it. He didn’t acknowledge the wink she gave him, but her confidence warmed him nonetheless.
“Thank you, sir,” Sato said, his strong voice carrying well without the need for artificial amplification. “Since most of you already know the background on what you’re going to see, a comparison of the cloud formations on the alien artifact representing Keran with time-matched meteorological records sent back from the Keran government, I’ll skip over the preliminaries and get to the bottom line.” He pressed a button on the tiny remote he held, and the massive screen at the head of the room suddenly showed an image of a planet that looked much like Earth, with a set of time and date information at the bottom. “This is satellite data that was delivered to us this morning by courier from Keran,” Sato explained. “Please note the date and time information, which is shown in Universal Standard to correspond with the times of the images I took while returning on Aurora.” The view of the planet suddenly changed from that of a typical sphere, expanding to show a two-dimensional display of the entire planet, as if it had been converted to a wall map. Three red circles flashed on, illuminating some large cloud masses. “These three major storms are good points of reference for what we’re about to see in this first sample.”
He clicked the remote again, and that image shrank to half the screen, while another image of what looked like the same planet appeared, except that it was suspended on a metal ring in an image capture stand. Identical time and date information to what was on the first image appeared at the bottom. “This is the alien artifact that appears to represent Keran, taken at the same relative time.” Another click, and the sphere was reformed to show a rectangular display of the entire planet’s surface as Sato had done a moment before with the satellite imagery, with three red circles around major storm systems.
“These cloud formations look similar, but the question is, are they the same? I had the computer highlight any differences between them in bright red.” Sato clicked the remote again. The two images came together and were merged. “As you can see, they appear to be the same. Closer analysis revealed, however, that the two images are not just similar, but are identical.” He paused. “This means that the alien artifact is showing not just some random representation of Keran, but is actually echoing an image of the planet in real-time, even from hundreds of light years away.”
“That’s impossible,” someone blurted.
“To us, perhaps,” Sato said. “But this isn’t a fluke. I made a dozen different recordings over the four months of the journey back to Earth. Every single one of those recordings was a perfect match with the imagery from Keran.”
“So what does this mean?” the Minister of Defense, Joshua Sabine, asked pointedly. “I’ve heard the arguments both ways about there being a Kreelan ship in Keran space somehow broadcasting to this...artifact. But how does it influence our strategy?”
“It means, Mr. Secretary,” Tiernan pointed out, “that, aside from the implications such advanced technology has in general, the enemy has unparalleled reconnaissance and communications capabilities compared to our own forces. They’ll know about anything that goes on in Keran space instantly, while we have to rely on couriers for inter-system communications. And, of course, if the Keran government doesn’t allow us to preposition any forces in the system when the clock is about to run out, we’ll have nothing in the way of reconnaissance to help us if the president orders us in.” He tossed the pen he’d been idly twirling in his fingers onto the table. “We’ll be going in completely blind.”
“It’s actually worse, admiral,” Sato told him quietly, although his voice still carried easily through the hush that had settled on the room.
“How can it be worse?” Sabine growled.
“Sir,” Sato went on, “it’s something that we discovered this morning. I never thought to check for this myself, but Miss Guillaume,” he nodded toward the back of the room toward Steph, “happened to be doing some video recording of the artifact, and had the idea of taking some very close-up macro shots. What she found prompted us to turn a high resolution microscope onto the artifact. Here are the results of some of the images we took.”
With another click of the remote, a seaside city suddenly sprang into view. But it wasn’t a typical lan
dscape scene as taken from someone on the ground; it was as if it had been taken from the air. Oceangoing ships, vehicular traffic, even large groups of people could clearly be discerned in the video image. The scene shifted to what was clearly a military facility, with armored vehicles aligned next to vehicle sheds and rows of barracks nearby. It shifted again to show a major airport, with aerospace vehicles taking off and landing, shuttling people and cargo to low orbit.
“Dear mother of God,” Sabine whispered. “Are you telling me that what we’re seeing here is - was - really happening at the time these images were taken of the artifact?”
Sato nodded grimly. “Yes, sir. We haven’t confirmed it directly, of course, because that would require another courier run to Keran for additional data. But based on our analysis this morning of both the meteorological and ocean wave data that we were able to compare with the artifact, we believe that what you are seeing here actually took place, and is not a random simulation of the activity on the planet.” He paused. “And these images are really limited by the equipment we had available at the time. I believe that it would be theoretically possible to go to street level and see the individual people there as clearly as we see each other around the table here.”
“Anything else to cheer us up with, Sato?” Tiernan sighed. He knew it wasn’t the boy’s fault, but this was all news that he definitely did not want to hear.
“Actually, yes, sir, there is some good news.” He clicked the remote again, clearing the troubling close-ups of Keran from the screen. “As you know, I believe the artifact is a countdown timer for the invasion.” Several heads around the table nodded. Very few had been inclined to believe his claim before, but he saw that much of the doubt about his story had faded quickly in the last half hour. “It is gradually changing what it shows over time, I believe morphing from a real-time image to some sort of artificial projection of what may happen.” A recent view of the artifact showed the smoke from the northern continent swirling into the polar region, and a variety of ships orbiting, apparently in combat. “So, using what Miss Guillaume discovered this morning, we turned our attention to the ships we periodically see passing across the northern pole of the artifact, as well as to some of the surface areas that appear to have been attacked. It was very difficult in the short time we had to do the analysis this morning, so these results must be considered preliminary, but...”
He clicked again, and suddenly a rakish vessel, what could only have been a warship, swam into jittery focus. To those in the room who had knowledge of such things, it clearly was not of any human design. Where human warships, regardless of the builder, tended to be very utilitarian in nature, made up largely of basic shapes and sharp angles with a variety of antennas and weapons arrays poking out into space, this one looked almost like a super-sized aerospace fighter aircraft. It fired what looked like a brace of missiles and followed up with a salvo of what appeared to be lasers at a target that was outside the field of view. “While we’ll need more exact measurements,” Sato said as his audience sat, transfixed by the scene, “we believe this particular ship to be roughly on a par in size with our heavy cruisers. It is nothing close to the size of the ships that attacked Aurora. And from what little we were able to tell this morning, reflected in what you see here, the weapons this ship is using appear to be roughly similar to those in general use by human warships.”
“Has this information been turned over to my analysts for further study?” Vladimir Penkovsky, head of Terran Intelligence, asked pointedly.
Sato opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Vice Admiral Mary “Bunny” Richards, the Commander-in-Chief, Orbital Systems Command. Her command was responsible for all the orbital platforms like Africa Station, and she was at the top of Sato’s current command chain. Sato had always wondered if anybody really ever called her Bunny. He knew that he certainly never would.
Eying Penkovsky with evident distaste, Admiral Richards told him in her heavily accented native British, “Lieutenant Sato and his team sent a report out this morning at oh-eight-forty, along with a request for support from TIA.” TIA was Penkovsky’s Terran Intelligence Agency.
“Listen, Joshua,” Penkovsky told the Defense Minister, “we need better integration on the intelligence side of this. We’ve been kept at arm’s length-”
“With all due respect, sir,” Richards interjected. “TIA was invited from the very beginning to participate in the debriefing and on the analyses of Aurora, but you declined.”
“Enough,” the Defense Minister held up his hands. “Vlad, we’ll take this up later off-line. On the one hand you’re right: we do need better integration between operations and intelligence, particularly in light of these recent revelations.” He nodded toward the screen, which now showed blurry images of what appeared to be some sort of assault boats disgorging from a larger vessel, probably an alien troop carrier, before they plunged toward the surface. “But let’s count our blessings, people, what few of them we’ve got. I don’t know if we can accept what we see here as valid - maybe the enemy is trying to deceive us - but at least we’ve got something to work with, and that’s where we need to start.” He looked at Sato. “Lieutenant, this is damn good work.” Turning toward the back of the room, he nodded at Steph. “You, too, Miss Guillaume.”
Steph smiled her thanks, grateful for the notice.
Sitting back in his chair, Sabine said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m going to be candid here: does anyone not believe that we have a real reason to be worried? Does anyone still think this is some sort of hoax, and if so, do you have any plausible story to back it up? I’m not looking for people to hit in the head, I just want to make sure we’re not overlooking some other plausible explanation.”
The faces around the table, along with the back-benchers, were uniformly grim. Those who had come into the presentation scoffing at the whole affair were now believers. They didn’t even have to believe all of Sato’s story: the evidence presented today was terrifying enough.
Sabine turned back to Sato. “How much time does Keran have left?”
Sato answered without hesitation. They had confirmed that the progression of the depiction of war southward across the artifact’s surface was at a constant rate, and had refined his own original estimates. Unfortunately, the confirmed rate left them with less time than Sato had originally predicted. “Four hundred and eighty-three days from today, sir,” he told him. “A little over sixteen months.”
A lot of heads shook at that number, and Sato heard several groans and curses. No one in this room had really, truly believed it until then. But seeing an image of what was clearly an alien ship made it a lot more real than the word of an emotionally devastated midshipman-turned-lieutenant.
“All right,” Sabine went on, “that’s what we have to work with. Ladies and gentlemen, I can’t emphasize enough how important it’s going to be to pull what we can together as fast as possible. This is the president’s number one priority. We’re probably going to go through some rough changes in how we do things, so be flexible and remember what’s at stake. Because if they can hit Keran, they can hit Earth. They proved that with how they sent Aurora back to us.”
“Which brings up the question of why they even bothered to send you back,” Penkovsky said, looking at Sato. “Why not just attack out of the blue and wipe us off the map? Why go to all this trouble of warning us?”
Sabine turned to look at Sato, too, as if the young lieutenant had all the answers.
“I believe,” he said slowly, “that it is their sense of honor.”
“Explain,” Admiral Tiernan told him.
“I am only speculating, sir. But consider: only the members of the crew who fought back, or were in a group that collectively fought back, survived the original boarding attack. I believe the only exception was the engineers tasked with destroying the computer core, who apparently died fighting. From what Lieutenant Amundsen said, it sounded as if they forced the Kreelans to kill them before they could be s
tunned. But that is only a guess.” He glanced at Steph, and saw her nod. It didn’t matter how many times he’d thought or spoken of what happened in the arena, it was still impossible to talk about it without having to seize firm control of his emotions. “Then those of us who were herded into the arena faced off against warriors who were clearly chosen to be roughly equal to ourselves. We were given a choice of weapons, and they fought without the armor that they normally wore. Petty Officer Yao believed that it was a test of our character, and everything the aliens did seemed to be aimed at making the contest as equal as possible.” He nodded toward the images on the screen, now showing the alien warship again. “The lottery was also clearly intended to choose one of us to send back, to bear witness to what happened. I believe that sending the Aurora back tells us that they are intentionally giving us a chance to prepare. I believe that they want us to put up a good fight.” He shrugged. “It would have made my job much easier for them to have left the ship’s sensor and navigational records intact, but perhaps that was all part of the test of our character, as well.”
“What if we refuse to give them a fight?” Penkovsky mused. “What if they jump into Keran and are welcomed with open arms?”
“The people on the planet will be slaughtered,” Sato said bluntly, “to the last man, woman, and child. Just like the Kreelans cut down everyone on Aurora who didn’t fight back.”
“You have no doubt of that?” Admiral Tiernan asked softly.
“None, sir,” Sato told him, fists clenched at his sides. “I saw enough to convince me.”
Tiernan nodded sadly. He had known Owen McClaren well, and his death and that of his crew hit him personally.
“All right, then, people,” Sabine told them. “If the president can get us the money and the people, we’ve got a fleet to build and a war to prepare for. And we don’t have much time...”
CHAPTER TWELVE
In Her Name: The Last War Page 18