Covert Alliance

by Blair Wylie

  The retro-rockets had just fired, and he could see by a graphical flight-path tracking instrument that he was now in a transverse, seemingly stable orbit around New Earth. The artificial intelligence built into the spacecraft was now firing attitude-adjusting, chemical-reaction thrusters to further refine the orbital path.

  He knew there was a manual override that he could choose to activate for the final stages of touchdown. He had been told the need for such intervention was highly unlikely, but the aliens had also told him which button to push to engage the override system.

  Since the craft was essentially a glider, there were no throttle controls, but there was a small fly-by-wire joystick that could be engaged to manipulate aerodynamic control surfaces. There had been no time, or the means of course, to practice real or simulated landings with this combination spacecraft – aircraft. So trying to fly the thing manually would be a final act of pure desperation, especially without the benefit of familiar instruments to guide him.

  Weismann had left Knudsen and Maldonado in the alien subsurface facility on Addy. The aliens had offered the astronauts the use of the one-person spacecraft as a means to communicate directly with the human leaders on New Earth. In fact, it was the only means of communication that they had provided, or allowed.

  Weismann had been ordered by Knudsen to make the solo trip back to New Earth. But the decision was a logical one, and Weismann had not objected in the slightest. He was the most technically-aware member of the crew, and he had worked very hard to absorb as much as he could during his brief, four day visit to Addy. And he had been the astronaut tasked with recording everything they managed to learn about the massive, very impressive and well equipped alien facility.

  The three astronauts had been guided as a group on a series of tours by the aliens. Their mysterious but polite hosts had spoken to the astronauts over well-hidden and acoustically perfect loud speakers the whole time. They still had never revealed or even hinted at what they looked like.

  During his solitary confinement in the alien craft, Weismann had lots of time to reflect on the whirlwind of weird things they had experienced on Addy.

  He especially sympathized with Maldonado’s situation. When he had left, she was clearly frustrated. She had learned very little about the true nature and culture of the aliens. They had rigidly controlled and restricted dialogue to matters that only fostered their agenda.

  And their agenda was pretty simple really: ‘Help us by destroying a relatively nearby Master colony. Do what we have told you to do, and helped you to do. And leave us alone ever after.’

  Maldonado had once pressed the aliens harder to reveal more about themselves, ‘in the interest of improved mutual understanding’. The response had been a blunt refusal, and a stern reminder that the aliens had the overwhelming superior power in the relationship. They had tempered their rebuke by assuring her that they were not bullies like the Masters. They said they were truly peaceful, and always chose to remain unseen and unheard until they were directly threatened.

  The cockpit of the alien spacecraft also did not provide many clues about the physical form of the aliens. The single seat was just an amorphous blob when the machine was empty. But when Weismann had sat down on it, it had adjusted itself to become a form-fitting, highly-supportive contour seat.

  He also found that during acceleration periods the chair had G-suit attributes. It would wrap around and squeeze his body’s extremities to help keep blood within his brain and delay the onset of a ‘blackout’.

  There were three circular, flat, presumably thick-glass viewing ports that allowed Weismann to look straight ahead, and directly to either side. He reasoned the aliens must have hand-like and finger-like appendages, because there were many buttons and levers, and touch-control screens. Most of the controls were located where he could reach them without having to leave his seat. So, he also reasoned the aliens might be about the same size as human beings, but of course, he had no way to be verify that theory.

  Weismann had brought food and water supplies along with him from the Osprey. He was wearing his light, non-EVA space suit, with hoses and cables attached to a small EVA support unit that he had placed behind his seat. The aliens had told him how and where he could vacate his bodily waste accumulations. The cockpit itself was pressurized, so he had decided to leave his helmet and his gloves off, but carefully placed beside him, close at hand.

  He had brought a lightweight headset with him to connect to his tablet. The aliens had told him how to also connect it to the communication system built into the spacecraft. Knudsen had helped him do that with a set of hand tools from the Osprey.

  But he had been told by the aliens that he would only be allowed to use the built-in radio to assist with landing safely. So, he had asked them to set the two-way radio to the emergency frequency of 121.5 ‘megahertz’, or megacycles per New Earth second. That way, he thought he could alert a no doubt startled New Earth airport traffic controller about his location, and about his intentions, after first declaring a ‘Mayday’ alert.

  Weismann knew he would be moving very fast in the streamlined lifting-body, even during the final flare manoeuver. The aliens told him there would be a series of relatively high G-force turns to help slow the aircraft down in the atmosphere, and to properly align with the active runway. An assumption had to be made about which runway would be the active runway. It was presumed that the active would be pointed into the prevailing wind direction. Furthermore, the aliens assured Weismann that the lifting-body could compensate for a moderate cross-wind.

  Weismann and Knudsen had expressed a concern to the aliens about mid-air collisions, and they had mentioned the use of transponders on New Earth as aircraft safety devices. The aliens understood the concept, and remotely adjusted a device within the spacecraft to receive interrogations from ground-based surveillance radar on a frequency of 1030 megahertz, and to ‘squawk back 7700’ on a frequency of 1090 megahertz.

  About an hour before Weismann had departed, he had joked quietly to Knudsen, “Well, sir, with me leaving and all that, you might as well consider this your first real date with Francis Maldonado.”

  Colonel Knudsen had initially frowned in anger at Weismann’s wisecrack, but then he had calmed down, laughed and mumbled, “These alien guys, and or gals, or whatever they are, are watching everything we do, Weismann, you know that! Maybe we will have our first date on this moon, but it will definitely be after the aliens leave.”

  “Okay, Skipper, no offence intended,” Weismann had replied sheepishly. Then he had added in a whisper, “Please believe me, sir, that I sincerely wish only the very best for both of you.

  “We had no idea what we would encounter up here, including, ah, other opportunities that might arise. So, you’ll find a wrapped-up present for you inside the back-up inertial guidance cabinet on the Osprey. When you open it up, you’ll see that I smuggled a couple hundred condoms on board for you. The weight and balance technicians knew all about it, and accounted for the package in their calculations, don’t worry. It was a well-intentioned conspiracy, Skipper, I swear. You have a lot of secret friends.”

  Knudsen had first looked shocked at the news. Then he had simply smiled, and patted Weismann on the back without further comment.

  Maldonado had kissed Weismann on the cheek when he was about to enter the alien spacecraft, and she had wished him the very best of luck, too. Knudsen had shaken his hand vigorously and said with a waver in his voice, “Everything depends on you now, Asher. You must convince them that forming this strategic, secret alliance is absolutely essential for the survival of our species.

  “You are a very brave man for confronting yet another highly significant and unknown risk. You are also a highly intelligent fellow, and absolutely the right person for this job. So, good luck to you, Lieutenant Colonel Weismann, and please enjoy the imminent reunion with your family! I am sure they will be surprised as hell to see you come home announced, and so soon!”

  Weismann h
ad barely managed to choke out the reply, “Thanks a lot, Skipper. And please don’t worry about me too much. I will be coming back here, you know, come hell or high G-force!”

  13

  First Town airport was used by commercial and military aircraft of all types. Ordinarily, it was a quiet, rather boring place.

  On most days, the airport traffic consisted mostly of electric-powered drones, and autonomous and human-piloted electric-powered helicopters. The airport also handled a few electric-powered airplanes on daily, local, scheduled flights. The airport only handled a couple of long-distance flights every week. Those large, LNG-powered turbo-prop and high-bypass turbo-fan aircraft travelled to and from other continents on New Earth.

  The nature of airport traffic reflected the cultural norms that had evolved on New Earth. People mostly preferred getting around on the ground by efficient, electric-powered trams and buses, and a few autonomous electric cars. LNG-fuelled, motor-assisted sailing ships, electric-powered trains and electric-powered trucks handled most of the long-distance cargo transportation needs.

  Even though it was not an especially busy place, there were always four controllers in the First Town airport control tower. They took turns managing landings and take-offs, the movement of aircraft on the ground, and the regulated movement of aircraft travelling on filed flight plans, and within control zones.

  The controllers were sipping coffee, and discussing recent team-sport results, when they heard a distress call in their headsets. It was hard to make it out precisely, but through some rather loud static they thought they heard, “Mayday! Mayday! First Town Tower, unregistered glider, repeat glider, no power. About 100 kilometres east at about 50,000 metres, inbound for emergency landing, no flight plan. Flashing 7700.”

  “Holy shit!” yelled lead flight controller Philip McTavish, while spilling coffee all over himself. Then he barked, “Vic! Vic! Divert the inbound Second Continent flight to Holding Pattern ‘B’!

  “Marsha, notify the brass at Government House about what’s happening! Tell them we have a UFO, and it’s probably theirs!

  “Wu, order the emergency crews down to the end of runway two-four! And get down there yourself, right now!”

  Then McTavish turned on his headset microphone and said calmly, “UFO glider, active runway is two-four, winds light and westerly, altimeter one oh one point two five. You are cleared to land. What is the nature of your emergency?”

  The reply came instantly and more clearly. “Inbound UFO has no power. Undergoing automatic hypersonic high-G turns.” There was a long pause, then the controllers heard what sounded like a groan or a grunt, then, “UFO is a lifting-body, with brakes and a ’chute, I hope. Coming in really hot! Better clear everything out of the way!”

  “Roger, UFO glider, we will be ready for you, good luck,” said McTavish calmly.

  After a few minutes, controller Vic Champlain said, “Phil, its transponder is flashing on radar now. It’s moving really fast! Now about forty kilometres out. Glide path looks very steep, but acceptable. Making tight S-turns.”

  A few minutes later the controllers heard a sonic boom. Then they heard on the radio, “First Town, inbound UFO glider is on final approach. Now have visual on runway two-four. Glide path is steep but looks about right.”

  “Roger, UFO glider, we can see you now visually.”

  The controllers watched with fascination as the strange-looking, silvery craft completed its high-speed approach. The craft had only the slightest hint of wings. It was shaped a bit like a flattened arrowhead. The streamlined fuselage itself was providing the lift it needed. There were three fins at the back, and the one in the centre was pointing straight up. The other two tail fins angled to the sides.

  They could see control surfaces on the fins working hard as the craft started to nose-up into a flare. A tricycle type of wheeled landing gear suddenly appeared on the bottom of the craft during the flare manoeuver. The flare extended a long way down the runway due to ground effect until the two rear wheels touched down with a quick puff of smoke. A tiny drogue chute, and then a large parachute, ballooned out behind the aircraft. When the nose wheel had gently touched down, smoke appeared around all three wheels due to obvious hard braking.

  The controllers watched intently as the strange craft slowly turned right at the end of the long runway, before coming to a complete stop on a holding ramp.

  Then McTavish said calmly, “Vic, the active is obviously clear again. So, bring down that waiting, incoming bird.” Then he said on the radio, “Well done, UFO glider pilot. Are you all right?”

  After a short pause, the controllers heard, “Roger, First Town Tower. What a ride! Now, please, send someone out to get me, and take me to your leader!”

  14

  General Jorge Kepler and Doctor Abdul O’Shea were immediately ushered into the prime minister’s office when they arrived in the reception area. Prime Minister Wong hurried over from his cluttered desk to greet them just inside his office door. Then he led them over to the adjoining lounge area in the large suite.

  Resource Minister Patricia Hernandez had arrived a bit earlier for the impromptu meeting. She had been scanning through a thick document, but she rose from a comfortable-looking leather chair to greet her two colleagues with firm hand shakes. Then she sat down again behind a large laptop computer that she had placed on a coffee table in front of her chair. The coffee table was overflowing with stacks of thick file folders.

  When everyone was settled, Wong said, “Thanks for coming over on such short notice, fellows. Minister Hernandez and I have just been reviewing the composite recording, and the mission log transcript. All fascinating stuff!

  “But obviously, also a matter that must be kept absolutely secret. That’s my first and foremost concern. So, have we managed to keep what happened secret, Jorge? And if so, can we keep all of this astounding information secret?”

  General Kepler suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable, but he cleared his throat and said calmly. “Well, unfortunately, the cat may be partially out of the bag, so to speak, Prime Minister.

  “You see, lots of people heard and saw the totally non-conventional and frankly weird-looking lifting-body make its successful landing at First Town airport. Sonic booms are a rare thing, as you know, and the ones that occurred helped bring a great deal of attention to the aircraft.

  “We towed the alien lifting-body into a secure hangar right away, with Lieutenant Colonel Weismann still inside of it. Nobody saw him. We are sure of that.

  “But the press managed to obtain some amateur digital still shots of the lifting-body, and a rather wobbly and fuzzy video recording of the aircraft that was taken by a civilian with a smart phone.

  “We are sticking to our story that this is one of our secret, experimental, robot-controlled aircraft that got into a bit of difficulty. We keep telling them that we cannot tell them anything about it, because it is all part of a government project currently classified as ‘Ultra Top Secret’. So far, they seem to be buying our cover story.

  “So, bottom line, no one knows Weismann was in the strange aircraft. They think he is still up on Addy with Knudsen and Maldonado.

  “But everyone knows we lost radio contact with the Addy astronauts right after their lander disappeared down a moon crater.

  “Most people fear the three astronauts are dead, and that the mission was a complete failure. We have been feeding trivial story lines and sound bites to the media, and they are now running human interest bits about the lives of the three astronauts.”

  “As for Weismann, he is physically and mentally in remarkably good shape. Doctor O’Shea and I have just spent half a day debriefing him. But he is really pissed that we will not let him contact his wife and family.

  “He understands we have genuine security issues, but he also thinks we should be able to work out some sort of arrangement whereby he and his family can, quote ‘sort of have a life together again’ unquote. I think he’s right about that, but that’s ultim
ately your call, Prime Minister, of course.”

  Prime Minister Wong shook his head and looked sad for a moment. Then he said, “Okay, let’s park that rather awkward and sensitive matter for a moment. But I’m sure we can work something out to help the poor man.

  “Now, what did you guys learn from talking to Lieutenant Colonel Weismann?”

  Kepler flashed a quick glance at O’Shea to indicate he should field the question. The eminent Doctor of Science looked very tired suddenly, and was showing his advanced age. O’Shea carefully adjusted his thick glasses, and then he said in a hoarse voice, “First of all, Prime Minister, Weismann believes we may only have a day or two to either accept or reject their offer. We pressed him for supporting facts to back up his belief. He eventually admitted he had nothing definite to offer us, just a ‘gut feeling’. He acknowledged that the aliens had never specified a hard, time deadline.

  “Still, General Kepler and I believe that we cannot indefinitely delay our response to their offer. And, if we choose to accept what the aliens have offered us, Weismann believes we will also have to accept all of their conditions. He said they actually insisted upon that, multiple times. So, no ‘gut feeling’ on that issue.

  “Weismann also believes the aliens are peaceful, intelligent creatures. But now Maldonado and Knudsen are essentially their hostages. They were still being treated well when Weismann left Addy. But who knows how the aliens will react if we delay our response, or worse yet, reject their offer, or some of their terms?

  “If we say ‘no’, Weismann thinks they may let Knudsen and Maldonado live, but they will undoubtedly destroy the Addy subsurface base, completely, just to keep it out of reach of the Masters.”