The Gods We Seek

by Eric Johannsen

  “White noise? Why would they do that?” Dylan asked.

  Sara entered another program. “Here, send this back to them.”

  “What is it?” Dylan asked.

  “More white noise, but with different numbers.”

  “They’re testing if we can understand concepts rather than simply mimic them?”

  “Maybe. Try it.”

  He did.

  The light pulses stopped.

  “I’m picking up electromagnetic radiation now. It’s at six-hundred-forty kilohertz,” Dylan said. “The signal strength is varying rapidly.”

  Sara’s eyes widened. “That’s AM radio. Do you have an AM receiver on board?”

  Dylan frowned. “No, NASA uses higher bands. The atmosphere blocks anything below around thirty megahertz.”

  “I’ll decode the signal with software, then.” Sara’s fingers danced across the virtual keyboard. “There we go.” With a swipe, she sent the output of her latest program to the ship’s intercom.

  A rumbling voice asked, in English, “Are you human?”

  #

  The crew exchanged stunned glances. Their orbit carried them to the day/night terminator, the star now cresting the planet in a glorious ball of orange-red light. The alien ship was now plainly visible in the golden rays. It was identical to the ship under the mountain, the one Dylan dubbed the UFO.

  The deep voice on the radio said, “Sind Sie Menschen? Nǐ shì rénlèi? Eres humano?”

  “Can we reply?” Dylan asked. “We have your software AM receiver but not a transmitter.”

  “Try the NASA bands,” Sara said.

  Dylan dialed the emergency frequency then broadcast, “Yes. We are human.”

  The alien transmission stopped.

  “Go on,” Sara said.

  “Go on? What else should I say? I won't tell ‘em to take me to their leader.”

  “Do what you do when you meet anyone,” Sara said. “Introduce yourself.”

  He transmitted, “My name is Dylan Lockwood. I’m from Earth. I have Sara Wells, Musa Malik, and Ji-min with me. We come in peace.”

  Sara failed to suppress a giggle. “I thought you were avoiding cliché.”

  Dylan’s neck reddened.

  “My name is Krea and I greet you in peace,” the voice said. “You’re mighty far from home.”

  “I’m surprised that you know something about Earth,” Dylan said.

  “Oh,” Krea said. “Earth has been one of my hobbies for some time now.”

  Dylan and Sara exchanged glances, then Sara turned to look at Ji-min.

  “I sense nothing,” Ji-min said.

  “Is your ship capable of landing on our world?” Krea asked. “If not, you are welcome to land on our primary moon, or we’d be delighted to bring you down in our ship.”

  “We’re able to land on your world,” Dylan said. “Thanks, I believe, in part to your species.”

  “Oh? I think I hear the beginning of a fascinating tale,” Krea said. “I’m not sure how to give you landing coordinates. We use a georeference system that your equipment won’t comprehend.”

  “Just point to a spot,” Dylan said. “I’m a pretty good stick-and-rudder man.”

  “Stick-and-rudder?” Krea asked.

  “That means he can fly primitive aircraft by looking outside,” Sara said.

  “I see,” Krea said. “Fascinating. I will direct you to a meadow outside my research institute. We wouldn’t want to cause a panic.”

  “A panic?”

  “You’re the first aliens ever to come here on their own,” Krea said.

  Dylan cut the microphone. “On their own?” he asked. “What the hell does that mean?”

  Sara chewed her lip. “It means we better be damned careful what we say and do.”

  #

  More gravity meant more atmosphere. The descent from orbit lasted far longer than landing on Mars. The high pressure allowed the small aerodynamic surfaces on the Lander to provide precision control, and the added friction slowed their descent. As the surface neared, the sky took on a powder-blue appearance, with peach-and-yellow cumulus clouds towering a few kilometers north of their descent path.

  A few thousand meters up, the shuttle rolled violently, left then right. The nose pitched up.

  “Shit,” Dylan said. “We’re about to stall.” He reduced power and shoved a control lever forward. There was a clunk from near the back of the craft followed by a rat-tat-tat sound, like something flapping in a savage wind. Dylan reduced power again. “OK, I got it. I think.” The air smoothed again, and he could hold the ship steady with the nose yawed to the right but banked to the left. They set down with a thud in a wide field of short, grass-like, mint-green plants studded with ruby flowers and ice-blue shrubs.

  The field was flanked by short, stubby trees with heavy, dark-pink vines in place of leaves. A squat figure, largely obscured by the growth, strode toward them along a decorative path.

  “I’ll go first,” Dylan said.

  “Are you trying to pull rank?” Sara asked. “Because I’m in charge.”

  “Yep, but I’m the one with combat training. If this Krea tries to eat me, I’ll fend her off while y’all get away.”

  “Agreed,” Sara said. “You’re the cannon fodder. I’d like Ji-min out second. I’ll follow her. Musa, keep the Lander running. If Ji-min reads any hostile intent, or if anything goes south, be ready to blast off again. You can join us if all goes well.”

  “You got it, boss,” Musa said.

  Dylan nestled into the one-person airlock. His environmental suit squeezed his legs and artificial muscles, made of nylon and woven into the suit, supported his movements. The compression cycle ended, and the outer hatch opened.

  Before him was a creature, about a meter and a quarter tall, standing on two thick legs. It had two small ears, two large, oval eyes, a bulbous nose and a mouth that could almost pass for human. It was dressed in flowing clothes, decorated in dazzling patterns of pastel colors, woven with strands of gold and silver. The creature extended a hand with four fingers, an opposable thumb, and no fingernails. “I am Mrs. Krea. Well, technically just Krea as we don’t follow your custom of surnames, though I am married. Is this your customary greeting? Shaking hands?”

  Dylan extended his arm and grasped Krea’s hand. “Yes. Yes, it is. I’m Dylan Lockwood.”

  Krea’s expression was inscrutable. “Mr. Lockwood. Welcome to my world.”

  “What do you call it? Your world.” Dylan asked.

  “There’s no word for it in your language, Mr. Lockwood. Our vocalization would seem odd to your ear.”

  The hatch opened again, and Ji-min edged forward.

  Krea turned to her and bowed at the waist. “I hope this is an appropriate greeting.”

  “You have a nuanced understanding of human culture. I am Ji-min.” She returned the bow.

  “Ji-min. Is that your surname?”

  “It’s my only name.”

  “How unusual,” Krea said. “At least, as I understand your world.”

  “I’d like to hear how you name your world in your own language,” Dylan said. “Even if it will sound foreign to us.”

  Krea made an unintelligible series of clicks and snaps.

  “Inquisitive,” Ji-min said. “Not a literal translation, but that’s what you associate with your species.”

  Krea stepped close to Ji-min and looked up to scrutinize her face. “Yes. What do you call our world?”

  “We haven’t named it,” Ji-min said. “It’s known by a catalog number. Gliese 892.”

  “If I grasp your language properly, you would call us, what? Gleise eight nine twoians?” Krea chucked at the thought.

  Dylan and Ji-min chuckled as well.

  Over coms, Ji-min said, “Sara, why don’t you join us? I sense nothing but good intentions.”

  The airlock opened, and Sara joined them. She extended her arm. “Sara Wells. It’s a great pleasure to meet you.”

  �
�Now would that be Miss or Mrs. Wells?” Krea asked.

  Sara raised an eyebrow. “Miss Wells will do nicely.”

  “Miss Wells.”

  Musa squeezed through the airlock door. “I am Mr. Malik. Musa Malik. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Mr. Malik. Welcome to my world.”

  Krea beheld the four humans. “What kind of host am I? Would you join me inside? I have so many questions.”

  “As do we,” Sara said. “We would be honored.”

  #

  Krea led them to an expansive, squat structure akin to a greenhouse. It was partially open, and plants moved freely in and out, the transparent walls adapted to accommodate the larger limbs and branches.

  Sara turned off the suit’s external speaker and said over coms, “Why do I feel like we landed square in the middle of an episode of the Andy Griffith Show?”

  “I have no idea what that is,” Dylan said. “But her speech sounds stilted if that’s what you mean.”

  There was a table at the far edge of the atrium-sized room, overlooking a modest lake.

  “I do apologize,” Krea said. “Our seating isn’t crafted with humans in mind.” The alien looked around, shifting weight from side to side. “I’ll stand, too.”

  “I don’t want to violate any rules,” Dylan said, “but that branch swooping above the stream over yonder would make a decent bench.”

  “Yes,” Krea said. “I believe it would. Please, sit.” She grabbed the edge of the table and pulled it toward the branch. It produced a tortured screech of metal on stone.

  “Hold up,” Dylan said. He grabbed one side and attempted to lift it. “Things are heavier here than back home. A whole lot heavier.” He pushed his legs up harder and the jury-rigged external muscles kicked in. Together, he and Krea moved the table.

  “Please, be seated,” Krea said, gesturing to the swooping branch. She carried her own chair to the table and sat.

  “Just us?” Sara asked. “I imagined a bunch of people would be interested in our visit.”

  Krea chuckled. “Oh, they are. I’m one of the leading experts on your species and probably the only one that can speak your languages unaided.”

  “So… others are watching us?” Sara asked.

  “Yes, a great many others in fact.” She scooted closer to the table. “Did I get it right? The laugh?”

  Sara raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m attempting to mimic human expression,” Krea said.

  “How do you know so much about us?” Sara asked. “Do you receive our television and radio signals?”

  “Goodness, no. We can barely detect them over the cosmic background radiation. There’s far too much noise to decode them.”

  “Your laugh was just fine,” Dylan said. “You could have fooled me. I figured laughter was universal.”

  “The concept is common among many species,” Krea said, “but the expression varies from planet to planet.”

  “How many planets are you familiar with?” Sara asked.

  “Oh,” Krea said, “quite a few. As Ji-min observed, we are a curious species.” She rested her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. “Is it rude if I ask you our most burning question?”

  “Please, speak your mind,” Sara said.

  “How did you get here?”

  “In a ship,” Sara said.

  “Not the one you landed in my garden. How long does your species live? Sixty-five years? That’s no generation ship out there.”

  “Life expectancy on Earth is much longer now,” Sara said. Or it was before the Demons came.

  “I see.” Krea’s expression changed. It was subtle, unreadable to humans.

  Unreadable to every human, save one. Ji-min’s voice sounded in Sara’s ear. “Something doesn’t add up for her. She thinks you are attempting to mislead her.”

  “Have I said something to upset you?” Sara asked.

  “Tell me about the ship that brought you here,” Krea said. “How many people does it hold?”

  “Is this an interrogation now?” Sara asked.

  “Interrogation? Goodness, no. Not at all. I’m sorry if it feels that way. We can be direct at times.” Krea’s shoulders twitched.

  Over coms, Ji-min told Sara, “She’s being deceptive. I don’t see malice, but she’s hiding something.”

  Oh, shit! I screwed up my first inter-species contact. I gave away too much information. “You last visited in our nineteen-fifty’s, didn’t you? I’m guessing with automated probes.”

  Krea nodded.

  “And you realize that we left Earth recently. Far too recently.”

  Krea nodded again and her shoulder quivered.

  “Sara!” Dylan said over coms.

  “She already knows,” Ji-min said to Dylan and Sara.

  “We traveled faster than light,” Sara said. “Far, far faster than light.”

  “That’s… no, it’s impossible,” Krea said.

  Sara studied the alien’s face and body language. Nothing in her experience helped interpret Krea’s intent. Lord, I’d be lost without Ji-min. I would have no clue how to read her. “It’s possible, and it’s true.”

  “Well, then,” Krea said. “That tosses everything we know about space travel out the window. What brings you here in your amazing ship, to our planet of all places?”

  “We found one of your probes,” Sara said.

  “Is that so? I’m certain we accounted for all the ones that recently visited Earth.”

  “We found it crashed on a world we refer to as Gliese 876. It’s a red dwarf twenty-one light years from here.”

  “I see,” Krea said. “And you could track it back here?” Her shoulder twitched again. “Our measurements show the trail dissipates in a few days. But then, a species that can travel faster than light must be capable of many wonders. You still haven’t quite answered my question, Miss Wells. You were kind enough to explain how you identified our world as inhabited. But, Miss Wells, why exactly are you here?”

  Alien Dawn

  “Careful, Sara,” Ji-min said over coms. “Her anxiety is up.”

  Sara studied the alien sitting across from her. She said she’s known for being direct. I hope she’ll appreciate the same. “A hostile species invaded our planet. We need help.”

  “That statement worries her,” Ji-min said. “For us. I think also for her people. It’s harder to be sure about the second part. Concerned for more than our fate, at least.”

  Krea’s posture straightened. “Would you be so kind as to describe them for me?”

  Sara shared a detailed account of how the alien appeared in a remote area, could not or would not communicate, then became hostile. She told of how the military tried to destroy it and how miserably that effort failed, and of how a nuclear weapon finally dented the alien’s advance. She omitted any reference to the Quadriga. As she finished recounting the tale, thin clouds drew across the red-orange sun and scattered drops of rain pounded the roof.

  Krea sat a great while in silence. “There are legends in our distant past of a similar episode.”

  “Really?” Sara asked. “How did you drive them off?”

  “I’m sorry to say it, Miss Wells, but we didn’t. The details are lost in the dust of time. The best picture we can form is, they left when they were ready to leave. Certainly, there isn’t a thing we could have done about it at the time.”

  Sara’s shoulders slumped, succumbing to the gravity of the planet and the weight of the news.

  “There may yet be a way to help you, Miss Wells,” Krea said. “I’m not permitted to discuss certain aspects of our society with you, but those who can authorize further disclosure will debate amongst themselves for a spell. You are my guest and are welcome to stay here if you wish.”

  They’re deciding whether to help us while who-knows-how-many people die back home? Focus. Make them want to help us. Sara flashed her trademark smile, unsure whether it would be lost on Krea and her people. “I appreciate whatever help you’re able
to provide us, and we are honored to be your guests.”

  “Wonderful!” Krea said. She looked Sara up and down. “Do those suits provide nutrients?”

  “Only water,” Sara said.

  “Well then, we best get you out of them so you can be comfortable.”

  Sara drew her eyebrows together. “Besides helping us walk in your strong gravity, the suits prevent us from infecting you with our germs. And vice versa.”

  “Oh,” Krea said. “You can break the light barrier, but you’re worried about that?” She paused, seeming to study Sara’s reaction. “We made little machines that roam the body and purge anything that isn’t supposed to be there. They were created with us in mind, but I don’t see why we couldn’t adapt them to help you. That is, if you’re willing.”

  “What about our germs infecting others?”

  “The machines prevent that, too. I don’t specifically know how. It’s not my field of expertise.”

  “That’s a kind offer,” Sara said. “Do you mind if we give it some thought?”

  “Oh dear, of course not. Take all the time you need. While you think it over, I’ll have a sterile room prepared where you can make yourselves at home. Are you hungry? I can make you a proper Earth supper though it’ll take a few hours.”

  Sara’s lips hung apart as she scrutinized the alien. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

  “Well, then. This way please.” Krea led them across the atrium to a tunnel formed of loosely-knit, blue-green vines. A transparent membrane filled the space between the fibrous plants, holding back the harsh drizzle outside. Stubby, resilient grass covered the floor, while a handful of pink-and-yellow beetles scurried about. Krea stepped around the creatures as if by second nature. Branches of the tunnel connected to other buildings, all of which blended into the landscape they were built around. The passage wound over a hillock and brought them to a dome-shaped room constructed, unlike everything else, entirely of inorganic material. The walls were sturdy, made of an engineered material similar to metal but with an opaline sheen. Generous windows spaced around the building created an airy look even though no atmosphere could enter.