Urgent. New developments. Need your input ASAP! When can you talk?
Anlon, Pebbles and Jennifer, like the rest of the world, were devoted viewers of Expedition to Callisto and had been watching the last episode when Dante abruptly departed in the middle of the show. They were well aware of the subsequent media firestorm, including Nigel Ewing’s interview with Antonio. Even on Fiji, the mystery surrounding what had happened to the Rorschach Explorer was atop the news.
Anlon’s phone buzzed. Amato. He tapped the answer icon and activated the speaker. “Anlon Cully,” he said.
“Anlon! It’s good to hear your voice!”
“Good to hear from you as well, Augie. It’s been a while.”
“Yes, I know. Too long. Where are you today?”
“We’re in Fiji for a couple of weeks, then on to Auckland.”
“Sounds delightful,” Amato said. “My apologies for intruding on your voyage.”
“It’s not an intrusion at all. I would ask how Rorschach’s trip to Callisto is going, but I know you’re dealing with some issues at the moment.”
Amato’s tone turned serious. “Yes, we’ve run into unexpected trouble.”
The office door opened and Pebbles ducked her head through the gap. With a contrite expression, she whispered, “Sorry.”
Anlon motioned for her to enter. “I’m sorry to hear that, Augie. How can I help?”
Pebbles tiptoed in with Jennifer on her heels, and they sat down in the guest chairs. Pebbles wore a magenta short-cut wetsuit that matched the color of her hair, with a towel wrapped around her waist, and Jennifer wore a wetsuit patterned after the Rorschach Explorer crew’s flight suits.
“Before I get into all of it, I wanted to let you know I have Dr. Dante Fulton on the line,” Amato said.
“And a heads-up in return, Augie — I have you on speaker. Pebbles is here with me, along with a friend of ours, Jennifer Stevens. She’s a former police detective.”
After quick pleasantries were traded, Amato said, “So, Anlon, I guess you have a sense of why I wanted to speak.”
“UMOs?” Anlon asked.
“Yes, UMOs…with a twist.”
He explained the attack by the BLUMO colony, including their apparent pack-hunting behavior. Dante then provided a clipped description of the damage done in the attack and the current status of the fleet. Amato finished up by sharing the highlights of Shilling’s report and the dissenting views within NASA’s UMO research group. Anlon, Pebbles and Jennifer listened closely, occasionally exchanging looks of surprise and concern.
“Sounds scary,” Pebbles said. “How is the crew?”
“They’re working hard, doing their best in a tough situation,” Dante said.
“Yes, they’re a resilient bunch,” said Amato. “However, there’s only so much they can control. Regrettably, as much as it sickens me to say the words, we may need to scrub the mission.”
“Because of the BLUMOs or because of what happened to Juno?” Jennifer asked.
“Ah,” said Amato, sounding surprised. “I see you’ve kept in touch with the news during your voyage.”
“Oh, believe me,” Pebbles said, “Jen knows more about your mission than some of your Mission Control people. She’s obsessed with it.”
Jennifer smacked Pebbles’ thigh and whispered, “Bitch!”
“Is that so?” Amato said. “Well, both are problems, but the more immediate of the two is the BLUMO colony. Dr. Shilling believes another attack is imminent.”
Anlon noted Amato’s choice of phrasing. Dr. Shilling believes another attack is imminent. “I take it you don’t agree with Dr. Shilling.”
There was a pause on the line before Dante answered. “There is a concern Dr. Shilling may be a little too close to the situation.”
“And as I mentioned, we have received a difference of opinion from voices within NASA,” Amato said.
Great, Anlon thought, they want me to be the tiebreaker. “To be candid, Augie, I don’t have much experience studying pack-hunters. I can speak to their general behavioral characteristics, but I’m not an expert.”
“I suspected as much, but I trust your observation skills. If you’re amenable, I’d like to send you Dr. Shilling’s report along with the video and audio of the BLUMO pack behaviors the crew observed, and the summary reports of the attack from an internal working group we set up. I’d like your impressions and observations. Specifically, I’d like to know whether you agree with Shilling. Was it a pack hunt? If so, should we be concerned about another attack?”
“I’m happy to take a look,” Anlon said. “Out of curiosity, do the videos show the pack alpha?”
“If they do, I’m unaware of it. Dante?”
“There is a distinctive chirp that can be heard on the audio,” Dante said. “I wouldn’t have called it an alpha. We’ve been thinking in terms of queens.”
“I can understand why,” said Anlon. “From the description you gave of the attack, it sounds like it was a mix of conflicting behaviors. Part swarm, part pack.”
“How so?” Pebbles asked.
“Swarms are generally reactionary,” Anlon explained. “A threat’s detected, and the swarm forms to protect the most important members of the colony. Using honeybees as a proxy for UMOs, the swarm’s main purpose is to protect the queen. The swarm will attack if necessary — particularly when defending their turf — but that’s typically their last line of defense. Setting aside the stalking behavior the crew observed, the description of the actual attack sounds like the BLUMOs were defending their turf.
“On the other hand, it also sounds as if they exhibited classic predatory behaviors. Track prey, stalk to detect weaklings, separate the weak from the strong during the attack and lead the weak into a kill zone. Highly coordinated behavior. Very different than swarms. Only problem is, packs typically form to hunt for food, and the crew said they ignored the ions from the fleet’s engines.”
“So the highly coordinated aspect makes you think there’s an alpha,” Pebbles said.
“Yes. In a swarm, each member of the swarm acts in response to the member closest to it, rather than by the actions or commands of a central leader. In a pack, a central leader, the alpha predator, coordinates the attack.”
“The queen bee doesn’t lead a swarm attack?” Jennifer asked.
“Nope,” Anlon said. “She’s basically pushed to the innermost spot in the swarm and told to stay put. For example, let’s say the threat is coming from the left of the swarm. The bees on the swarm’s outermost layer on the left side are the first to detect the threat. If the threat is avoidable, those outermost bees will turn away from it and the rest of the swarm will follow their lead, including the queen. If the threat isn’t avoidable, the outermost bees will attack. Others will join the attack, but not all, and a contingent always stays with the queen to keep her out of harm’s way. She never enters the fray.”
“Can a queen act as an alpha?” Dante asked.
“In UMOs? Wouldn’t dare to venture a guess,” Anlon said. “But that would be contradictory behavior among most animals on Earth. That’s not to say female animals can’t be alphas. Take gray wolves, for instance. Their packs usually have co-leaders, an alpha male and an alpha female, and it’s not uncommon for the alpha female to lead a hunt. Even in lions, where pride alphas are always male, the hunting is done by females and the hunting pack is led by a female. But the composition of a honeybee colony is very different than a predator pack.”
“One queen,” Pebbles said. “One breeder.”
“That’s right, that’s the key difference,” Anlon said. “Packs typically have multiple female members. If a female alpha is killed during a hunt, another of the females in the pack takes her place and the pack survives. In a honeybee colony, there is only one queen. If she’s killed during a swarm, it’s a serious blow to the colony.”
“So you’re saying the BLUMO colony may have a queen and an alpha?” Amato asked. “And they’re two different indivi
duals?”
“At this point, I’m just pointing out the oddities in the behaviors you’ve described,” Anlon said. “How they’re inconsistent with typical swarms and packs. I can’t make any definitive judgments until I go through the data.”
“Very well,” said Amato. “We’ll send you everything we have. How soon do you think you can get back to us? I know it’s an imposition, but we’re rather pressed for time.”
Anlon looked to Pebbles and Jennifer as he answered Amato. “I’ll get on it as soon as I receive the data. You tell me the deadline and I’ll make it happen.”
“What do you think, Dante?” Amato asked. “Two hours?”
“That sounds about right. We should have NASA’s report by then,” Dante said.
“Understood,” said Anlon. “I’ll get back to you faster if possible. If Shilling’s right and an attack is imminent, it’s a problem on two fronts.”
“Oh?” Amato said.
Anlon frowned down at the phone. “If they’re like pack hunters on Earth, they’ll change their tactics for the next attack. They’ll probably be harder to detect, and they’ll wait for better conditions…conditions that provide a higher chance of success.”
There was silence over the phone for several seconds. When Amato spoke, his voice was thin. “That’s sobering to hear, Anlon.”
After another stretch of silence, Dante said, “Dr. Cully, you said there were two aspects that concerned you. What’s the other?”
“Well, the behaviors you described suggest they’re seasoned hunters,” Anlon said. “If the data bears that out, you have another issue on your hands.”
“There’s some other kind of prey out there,” Pebbles interjected, her eyes glued on Anlon. “That’s what you’re saying, right?”
He nodded. “They have to be eating something to survive. If they’re just consuming ambient ions, there would be no need to pack-hunt, and they wouldn’t have developed the behavior.”
“Dr. Shilling suggested the BLUMOs’ hunting skill indicates the presence of other packs,” Dante said. “He says competition for food honed their skills.”
“I’m sure that’s a contributing factor, but…”
“But what?” Amato asked.
“I’m not sure you’ll like the answer.”
“I already don’t like the answer and I haven’t heard it yet!”
“Wolves don’t form packs to hunt squirrels, Augie. Whatever these UMOs normally hunt isn’t small.”
After the call, Anlon tilted his seat back and ran his hands through his sandy-gray hair. “Who would have guessed such diversity lives in our solar system?”
“It’s crazy,” Pebbles said. “What kind of prey do you think the BLUMOs hunt?”
“No clue. It’s gotta be something electromagnetic, right? They feed on ions.”
“And radio waves,” said Jennifer. “Don’t forget radio waves.”
Anlon chuckled. “You do know your Expedition to Callisto episodes, don’t you.”
“It’s a cop thing. I remember small details,” she said with a smile.
Pebbles walked to the window overlooking the marina and gazed out at the tropical haven. “Oh well, Fiji will still be here tomorrow.”
“Excuse me?” Anlon said.
Pebbles turned to him. “There’s no chance we’re playing surf and tan while you dig through the data. Right, Jen?”
Jennifer tugged off the band holding her blond ponytail. “Looks like you have some research partners, Anlon, whether you want them or not.”
Augustus Amato’s office
A3rospace Industries Command and Control Center
Mayaguana Island, The Bahamas
Dante found it hard to concentrate. He’d gone into Amato’s office determined to abort the mission in order to protect the crew, but then the conversation about NASA’s dissenters had lessened his concerns about an imminent attack. Now Anlon’s final comments had alarmed him enough to push him back toward aborting again.
He knew the Rorschach crew was already on alert for signs of a BLUMO return; they were watching and listening for the same cues that preceded the earlier attack. But now it seemed that might not be enough. They would need to broaden their detection and scrutinize any unusual phenomena, no matter how small.
And then there was Anlon’s speculation about yet another electromagnetic life-form residing in the asteroid belt. Would that life-form be predatory, too? And how would the crew detect it? Using their full array of sensors to scan for other electromagnetic anomalies might attract the new life-form or, worse, attract the BLUMOs again.
Amato must have been grappling with similar concerns, for he, too, seemed lost in thought. Finally he lifted his head and said, “Is your brain spinning as fast as mine?”
“It is,” Dante said. “We need to give Skywalker a heads-up about Anlon’s thoughts. ASAP.”
“Agreed.”
Dante’s cell phone buzzed with a text from Pritchard. Another downlink just arrived from TRE. CCDR EVA to convert Cubes underway.
In a low and drawn-out voice, Dante said, “Oh, shit.”
CHAPTER 8: WOLFPACK
Cargo bay — the Rorschach Explorer
Drifting at all-stop above the ecliptic in the asteroid belt
September 3, 2019
In the cargo bay on the underbelly of the ship, Major Carillo watched the doors crank open. Encased in her spacesuit and tethered to one of the walls, she was upside-down relative to the ship’s orientation.
From inside the main cabin, the others monitored the space-scape around Rorschach for signs of BLUMOs or any other unusual activity. Morgan kept watch from the flight deck, Shilling and Ajay manned consoles in the lab compartment, and Kiera was stationed in the engine control room.
“Recon-3 should be coming into view any moment, Julia,” Kiera said through her headset.
Carillo scanned the darkness outside the bay and spotted the instrument-laden probe. “Roger that. I see it.”
“Copy,” Kiera said. “Transferring probe guidance control to you in five, four, three…”
Carillo swiveled the docking control system’s video monitor into place. When Kiera finished her countdown, a light on the thruster control panel turned from red to green, and a split screen showed Carillo the views from the perspective of the approaching probe and from the platform. Crosshair templates overlaid both feeds.
Using the docking system thruster controls, Carillo slowed and maneuvered Recon-3 until it hovered a few feet above the docking platform, a process that took nearly twenty minutes. When it was finally in position, she looked up to inspect the probe.
“Jesus. You guys seeing the damage on this sucker?”
The probe’s X-band dish had melted into a bizarre sculpture. Several holes had pierced through Recon-3’s body. A number of instrument receptacles protruding from the grid atop the probe were twisted or blown apart. One of the solar panels was missing, as was the boom holding the CubeSat’s gamma-ray spectrometer’s sensor.
“Whoa. How in God’s name did you get that junker back here, Kiera?” Morgan asked.
“Mad skills,” said Ajay.
“Roger that,” Kiera agreed.
Carillo interrupted the chatter. “Activating dock in five, four…” At zero, she pressed a button on the docking control panel. The probe wobbled as the magnetized platform pulled on magnets embedded in the probe’s underside. It floated down and landed. “Recon-3 docked.”
Cheers sounded through her headset.
“Proceeding to fasten safety clamps,” Carillo said.
“Copy,” Morgan replied.
Carillo propelled herself from the docking control station to the platform, a distance of ten feet, and hooked a second tether from her suit’s utility belt onto a railing on the side of the platform’s bed. Over the next thirty minutes, she anchored clamps connecting the large eyelets on the four sides of the probe to corresponding eyelets on the platform.
The process was tedious, for every step
happened in the slow-motion vacuum of space. One at a time, Carillo had to remove each clamp from a storage locker beside the platform, attach it to the platform, and secure it to the probe. Then it was back to the box for another clamp, and so on. And even when this part of the process was complete, she had to move around the platform to tighten each clamp with a winch kept in the storage locker.
When at last she’d finished tightening the last clamp, she said, “Recon-3 secured.”
“Roger that,” said Kiera. “Deactivating platform magnets. Powering off Recon-3.”
“Copy.”
“Platform and probe off.”
“Good job, Julia. Good job, Kiera,” Morgan said. “One down, one to go.”
“Roger that,” Carillo replied. “How am I doing on O2?”
On the flight deck, Morgan examined readings from Carillo’s life support system. “Looking good. Tanks are at sixty-eight percent remaining.”
Inside the lab compartment, Ajay fought to keep his eyes open as a light static through his headphones teased him to fall asleep. Shilling wasn’t faring any better; his eyes had tired from darting back and forth between instrument monitors and video screens. And Kiera had turned her attention to the probe flight control system in order to position Recon-5 for handoff to Carillo.
Thus no one detected the BLUMO scouting party.
No one, that is, but Carillo.
As she opened the storage locker to stow the winch, she felt a rattle from the connected docking platform. “What the—”
Morgan’s eyes darted to the cargo bay camera feed. “What’s the matter, Julia?”
“Just had a strange thing happen,” she said. “I was replacing the winch and the whole platform shook.”
“How can that be?” Kiera asked. “The dock is off.”
“Ajay, Bob, report,” Morgan said. “You picking up anything unusual?”
Before they could respond, Carillo felt another vibration, this one from the life support control module attached to the chest of her spacesuit. “Shit. That’s not good.” She turned away from the platform. “Paul, something’s not right. I’m calling it. I’m aborting.”
Magwave (The Rorschach Explorer Missions Book 2) Page 11