by Geoff Nelder
“Watch your back, Ryder,” Vlad said, carrying a space-age-looking aluminium cowl to go over the airshaft once they’d finished lowering provisions.
“Are you sure that will work?” Ryder said, fingering the louvers around the cubed piece of modern sculpture.
“No idea,” Vlad said.
“He’s kidding,” Gustav said. “It will prevent rain and animals getting in, let air in and our patent wet-filter system will, hopefully, strangle any alien virus that makes it to this point up the shaft.”
“Will it strangle Antonio, if he comes up the shaft?” Ryder said.
“It will be locked from above and below, but he could get out when he needs to via the winch and using tools he has.”
Ryder took the Ukrainian away from the shaft for a short walk. “Vlad, the acoustics in that shaft will let Antonio hear conversations at the top.”
“So?”
“I thought we laid down the specifications such that he wouldn’t just be able to winch himself up and get out without us letting him. There’s a danger he might become infected and contaminate us, otherwise.”
“Ryder, you have to allow him to get out in an emergency. Suppose after heavy rain, his bit of the mine gets flooded or we get ill and can’t get provisions to him? We can’t let him die down there.”
“The point of quarantine is that it’s us who decides when he’s to come out.” Ryder could feel his cheeks heating but hoped Vlad didn’t notice.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure he wouldn’t without our say so.” Vlad returned to fixing the cowl, leaving Ryder seething, then following, plotting another failsafe device. He could understand Vlad being reluctant to trap Antonio in the mine: he’d been with him in a spacecraft for so long. He was like family.
Ryder had to plan for the bigger picture and protect what was left of mankind. He would sort it out with Brian, but he could see where they could fasten the cowl to the grating so that Antonio could only emerge with help from the outside. Keeping it from the others shouldn’t be too difficult, and he had no problem letting Antonio out once a quarantine period was complete. If a disaster befell them at the centre, then Antonio would have a problem and might die, but he must have taken that into account when he volunteered. It would not make sense to let him contaminate them if he developed another version of ARIA.
EVERYONE STARED AT THE LARGE MONITOR, watching Antonio’s progress. The camera was set up at an oblique angle to see both Antonio and the cage containing the case. He wore a bio-safety suit. Ryder wasn’t sure why he didn’t wear his space suit, or conversely, why wear any protection when he was there to be exposed?
“Idiot, we don’t know what’s in the case,” Teresa said. “We know he’s there as a guinea pig, but there’s no need for him to suffer incidental damage.”
Ryder could see her point, impressed really, but impatient to witness the events.
Antonio’s voice came over clearly. “It’s now or never. Si? Opening the padlock now. There’s dust covering the padded bag—grazie, Jena.”
Ryder looked round for her. She sat at a table, her hands propping up her chin. Their eyes met and she stuck out her tongue. He returned the compliment. He turned to find the image of Antonio unzipping the bag, revealing for the first time on Earth, the gleaming mirror-like surface of the case. Yet, not a case in that it had no handle, but small and light enough to be carried in outstretched arms.
“Osservate, the logo is flat to the case when viewed from the side, but as you move, it appears as a solid protruding object with a golden glow. A double chevron whereas for the first case, a single black chevron. Giving us hope, signore e signori, that this one is a second part to the first. I know what some of you think. That this is a final end to us all, but I believe this will undo the damage of the first. They are more advanced than us. This is to both rectify and move on to something wonderful.”
“Typical bloody Italian,” Brian said.
Antonio continued. “I believe the first case wouldn’t open if merely touched by remote control, but that is what I am going to try. I am placing the case, logo upwards, on the table, using the bag so I’m not actually touching it. This is an aluminium rod I am going to press on the logo.
“Nothing happened. The next stage is to try a probe made of an organic substance. So, here is a wooden probe I am to use.”
“Probe, my arse,” Bronwyn said, “it’s my long stirring spoon!” Everyone relief-laughed, including Antonio and Jena.
Antonio looked round at the camera. You could just see his eyes through the clear plastic headpiece. “Sorry, Bronwyn. Megan said it’d be all right. She said you didn’t need help stirring things.”
“I’ll want it back.”
Antonio pressed the wooden spoon down on the logo but nothing happened.
“The next step is to touch it myself. I’ll attempt it first with my bio-suit glove on. Here I go...nothing. I’ll try with more force. Note how the logo appears to show through the glove as if there is a holographic light source in the case exterior. Clever technology, si? I press hard and nothing changes.
“There is only one test left, buona fortuna to all, yes?”
Bronwyn called out, “Don’t, don’t, Antonio!” Then she pushed her chair back, stood, and rushed to the kitchen. “I can’t watch.”
Jena said, “Yeah, come back in, Antonio, have a cup of tea. Forget the case before you have no choice.”
Everyone else stayed mute, transfixed by what might be the greatest moment in human history—or the second greatest.
Antonio waited a moment then said, “I’m stepping back three metres. Now I’m removing the protective outer glove off my right hand. Now the latex under-glove. This may be arrivederci.
“Nothing has changed on the case. I’m reaching my hand out so that it is within two metres. Nothing. One. Nothing.
“I now hover my hand over the logo without touching it. Twenty centimetres above. Nothing. Ten. Ah—the logo has vanished. I hear a small, high-pitched buzz. I’m removing my hand and stepping back. There. The logo remains absent and the sound persists. See that bright blue light around the edge of the case? And the lid slowly opens as if there is a hinge opposite to me. I am stepping back another metre to let the camera zoom in and the sensors work.”
The camera showed six translucent blue bricks.
“Is the colour affected by the low light intensity in the mine?” Derek said. “Only, the first case had bricks of a funny lilac colour, didn’t it?”
Ryder said, “Yes, although they had a greenish tinge to them, like a badly-coloured toothpaste. We are seeing a difference in colour. Can you confirm their blue colour, Antonio?”
“I’d say they were a sky blue as if they had an internal light source.”
Antonio lowered a thin wire boom over the case and sat well back. Within minutes, Gustav had some results. “No change in background radiation. No change in temperature though light intensity has increased.”
Jena swivelled her stool to work at the computer near her. They’d set up a live link to Charlotte. The signal bounced around the satellites.
“Charlotte says, ‘Good luck to you, Antonio,’ silly mare,” Jena said.
Ryder walked over to her and spoke into the mike. “Hi, Charlotte, thanks for your good luck.” He glared at the pouting Jena. “And keep an eye on any unusual activity such as radio bursts from our visitors at Cassini. Cheers.”
Antonio manipulated a small Perspex tube over the case. “I’m running my gas analyzer, for what it’s worth.”
Ryder knew the same apparatus pulled in any viruses emitted from the case. Those could be passed over gel microscope plates and studied for unusual pathogens similar to the one Julia Tyndall found at Goddard.
“When I find something on the slide, I want it to be called Antonio’s Bug.”
“Still the funny man. No ill effects?” asked Abdul.
“No, and the gas analyser isn’t showing anything. Un momento.”
The next twenty mi
nutes saw no change. Megan excused herself to help Bronwyn in the kitchen, and Brian left to check a loose connection on a gate.
Teresa’s computer sounded an incoming message alert.
“It’s Charlotte. She says the ISS is relaying a radio signal.”
Dan ran to the computer station controlling the ISS webserver.
“Yep, there is a 2.6 seconds-long repeated signal being picked up by the radio antennae pointed at the brown fuzzy ball.”
“Good God,” Ryder said. “Is it intelligible?”
“Actually it’s not beamed directly at the ISS but in this direction too,” Teresa said, passing on information from Charlotte.
Dan fiddled with a virtual connection to the ISS control panel. “It isn’t a ‘how are you doing’ message. Just garbage, but exactly the same garbage every 2.63 seconds. You know what I think?”
“Somehow, it knows the case has been opened, yet it needs us to relay a code to it,” Ryder said.
“It could be that some alert could get from the opened case, through the cave rocks, and off to them at Saturn,” Derek said, “but they can’t get a more sophisticated radio instruction code back through all that hard rock. So—”
“They send it to the ISS and us, hoping we’ll pass it on,” Ryder said.
“Do we?” Teresa said.
“This is a first, isn’t it?” Derek said. “The aliens effectively asking for our help to activate something?”
“Not really,” Ryder said. “They needed a human to agree to open both cases. However, I agree there is a subtle difference in that they need us to take an extra step. What does that tell us?”
“You’re going to say that it means they expect us to cooperate with something that is going to be beneficial to us,” Teresa said. “Or it could mean they realize we’re too curious to have restraint. Tell them to go to hell.”
“Hoorah,” Jena said, finding an ally.
Dan turned to Ryder. “I presume it’s a code that would unlock something else in the case. As far as we know, they hadn’t used radio before, but we weren’t listening for it back in April. As Derek suggests, the case is inside a mountain, they need us to relay it on.”
Teresa, who had become agitated walking around, said, “We should ask Antonio. Give him the option whether he wants the message or not.”
Ryder ignored her. “What does the message sound like?”
Teresa shouted, “Is anybody listening to me?”
Derek twiddled with a sound analyser. “Sounds like static in repeated bursts. It’s never going to make any sense to us. It is probably alien machine code talking to another machine. Except that the receiving machine should be the case.”
Megan had come in to find out why Teresa was shouting. “Does that mean the alien ship is a machine? No little green men in it?”
Dan put an arm around her shoulders. “No, Megan. For instance, when you talk on your phone, your message goes through the air as coded data to be received by someone else’s phone. You’re not a machine, but your phone is.”
Megan brightened. “So there might be little green men on the alien ship out at Saturn who are phoning their luggage in the mine. Can’t you get through and phone your Space Station instead to pass on the message?”
“You got it,” Dan said, who turned to Teresa. “We’ve not overlooked what you’re saying, Teresa. But he’s volunteered for this job.”
“Exactly,” Ryder said. “We need to send on the code for the case to respond and for Antonio to report any effects. That’s what this is all about.”
“Suppose the code is a signal to detonate it?”
“They’re not likely to have sent a bomb. What would be the point?” Dan said.
Teresa clenched her fists. “Suppose they know this group is the last uninfected group on the planet. They’ve obliterated humans without contaminating the environment with ARIA but need to take more direct action to see us off.”
Jena said, “I hate to pour cold water on your theory, Teresa, especially since I didn’t agree with bringing the fucking case here. But there are bound to be hundreds if not thousands of uninfected groups. Think of all those isolated mountain villages in the Andes, Himalayas, even the Rockies. They don’t all have international airports, railways, or motorways. Intended visitors with ARIA would have forgotten where they were going long before reaching their destination.”
“Okay, I accept that,” Teresa said, clearly annoyed Jena would appear to support Ryder and Dan. “But apart from the single person Charlotte, no other group have been in touch with the ISS website.”
“There have been others logging in,” Vlad said, tapping at his console. “Five unknown contacts in the last three months. When someone looks at our website, it is logged. One could be the aliens, but I’d expect them to be able to scan it without us noticing.”
Dan said, “We should alert Antonio and give him time to suit up.”
“Do you want to tell him, Teresa?” Ryder said.
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Let me tell him he’s about to blow up.” She ran out of the room.
“He knows anyway,” Vlad said. “He’s been listening in. Thinks it is very funny, don’t you, Doc?”
“Bring it on, Derek, after I’ve finished with my visor and gloves.”
“Okay, say when.” Derek set up the signal and waited with his finger over a touchpad, waiting.
“Just a minute,” Jena said. “I’m getting Teresa, let her know Antonio is all right with this.”
The others waited for stretched minutes. The two women returned.
“Ready, Antonio?” Derek said.
“As ever.”
“Counting down. Three...two...one.” Derek tapped the touchpad, sending the short radio burst to Antonio’s receiver. Speakers in the centre and the mine played the sound although it came over as a grandfather’s wheezy cough.
The case looked no different after the signal, nor five minutes later.
“How are you feeling, Antonio?” Dan said. “The instruments show no change. But unless you talk to us, we’ve little idea about how you feel.”
“An anticlimax, Commander. I’m beginning to wish I’d brought more books to read.”
“Don’t get complacent,” Ryder said. “Suppose the case is waiting for you to remove a glove or your visor.”
“I could try asking it. Hang on. Hey, case, Ciao! Are you waiting for me? No answer, Ryder. I am removing my headgear. I’m far too hot anyway. I’m back as far as I can get. On the count of three: one...two...three. Nothing different. I will walk slowly towards the case. From the case I am three metres...two metres...one. Maybe it needs me to actually touch or breathe on it. I’m removing a glove. There. Nothing. I am going to hover my hand over it like I did before the radio signal. Here goes. Twenty centimetres above it. Ten—che cosa!”
Ryder saw Antonio reel backwards as a shock-wave emanated from the case—like circular ripples from a stone thrown in a pond, distorting the image. As Teresa screamed, a tremor rippled through the centre.
Dust fell from the ceiling, but the lights stayed on.
“Antonio, are you all right?” screamed Teresa. The monitor showed Antonio sitting on the floor.
“I need the kiss of life, Teresa,” he said, before getting to his feet. He approached the case. “Anyone want to see that again?”
“No, Antonio.” Dan said, “A shockwave came from the case and went through us here. God knows where it’s going.”
Vlad tapped at his console. “It reached us 2.3 seconds after Antonio said ‘che cosa.’ That’s a horizontal velocity of 1,565 miles per hour.”
“Quite slow, then,” Abdul said, to Ryder’s surprise.
“Yes, earthquake waves are much faster,” Vladmir said. “It’s a pity the seismograph centres around the world are all offline. We’ve no way of telling if it petered out a few miles away or maintained itself for a complete wrap around the planet.”
“We’ll be able to tell in sixteen hours’ time,�
� Abdul said.
“Oh, yes,” said Vlad. “It will take that long for that slow wave to circumnavigate the globe. I wonder if we have anything on the ISS.”
“I’ve just been checking,” Dan said. “We have sea-surface radar imaging continuously for oceanography research. It wasn’t turned off or redirected, but it’ll take me some time to detect any additional ripples.”
Tuesday 22 September 2015:
Anafon
DEREK STOOD AT THE LAB DOOR AND SHOUTED, “WE’VE HAD ANOTHER ALERT FROM THE ISS!”
“Can we take any more?” Laurette said.
Megan and Bronwyn came in carrying mugs of strong coffee.
“Is it another signal?” Ryder said.
“No,” Derek said, taking his time sitting while tapping at his console. “The Hubble was programmed to send us an alert if there was any change to the image of the alien ship.”
“So, instead of a brown fuzz ball, it’s now a standard flying saucer?” Abdul said.
“It’s still fuzzy, but it’s on the move. There, I have an image.”
“Derek, it looks the same,” Ryder said.
“Its movement is slow, only just over five thousand miles per hour, but it is accelerating. There is an ion trail.”
“Oh God, they’re coming for their protégée,” Ryder said.
“No,” Derek said, “the trail shows they are going out of the solar system.”
Jena said, “It could mean they are leaving to go round Saturn in a slingshot, through the Kirkwood Gap, to come back here.”
“Good point,” Abdul said, grabbing a seat at a console. “I’m downloading the Hubble data and running a program. Give me the time it takes to drink half your coffee.”
“Is it good news they’re leaving?” Teresa said. “It would imply their task is done. The main invasion force could be on its way.”
“Or it could mean they’ve tried a biology experiment and they’ve received enough data. Happy or not, they’re off to report back,” Gustav said.