T

he old man’s eyes opened reluctantly. Blinking the sandy grit away, he looked out the window. It was still dark outside. This night seemed to be lasting forever. Perhaps the day one died always felt that way.

He knew his time had come. Very few Colonists had lived to be fifty-five years old, and he wasn’t so sure he was pleased to claim the distinction. He looked about his small room; the deep shadows kept him from appreciating his few treasured possessions. Ah, well. It wasn’t as if anything had changed in the past seven years. Once his beloved Elie had died he had been completely alone. He found he disliked being alone.

The Colony’s numbers had dwindled quickly over the last few generations. His grandfather had known one hundred ten fellow Colonists, his mother fifty. By the time he had been born, there had been only ten. Now there was but one. It saddened him to think his body would go unburnt.

In his mind’s eye he recalled how the Colony had looked over the past year, the wind whistling through the empty dwellings that had once rung with the voices of over two hundred. He had visited each of those buildings looking for stored food after he had become too weak to hunt or gather.

The last of the food had been eaten; there was nothing left.

There had been children, for a little while, for Elie and him. Three, in fact, all with soft, brown eyes that hadn’t changed. It would have been nice to see children at play, but by then they realized the Colony was truly coming to an end.

Perhaps it was a hidden blessing their children had not lived to grow old.

“Old one, I am here.”

The old man’s eyes fluttered open. He must have fallen asleep again. He blinked his eyes, but nothing would come into focus. A thin, childish form stood over him, and then kneeled down at his side. The man tried to sit up but his body betrayed him and he found he couldn’t. Slim, strong arms slid behind his shoulders and assisted him in sitting just enough for a pillow to be slipped behind his shoulders. That was better.

“Here, old one, something to drink.”

A smooth cup was held to his lips and he drank gratefully. His throat was so very dry. He reached up a shaky hand to take the cup on his own, when he realized by scent and feel that this young boy was, just perhaps, real.

“Who are you?” Well, at least that was what he meant to say. His hoarse voice was barely understandable. He took another swallow of the musty-tasting water. There, that was better. He tried again. “Who are you?”

“I was sent to help care for you, old one. Do you need anything else?”

Hrumph. He must be hallucinating. It was, he had to admit, a very good hallucination. He thought for a moment. Actually, he didn’t need anything. He was cool enough on this hot summer’s night; his throat was no longer parched. He wasn’t hungry, but even he knew the dying usually lost their sense of hunger at the end. He reached out an unsteady hand and patted the boy’s bare knee. “I am fine. You can go now, you have done your duty well.”

He closed his eyes, preparing to wait. He had always been a patient man. His memories rambled aimlessly. Yes, even if he had to be the final Colonist, it had been a good life. Legends said one day he’d return to master all those things he had not learned in this life. Pah. None of the Teaching Sagas ever mentioned such a notion, and more importantly, never had he heard an Elder validate such a wild belief. And, but of course, there was the rather minor necessity of needing parents to create the bodies that could be inhabited. That assuredly would not now happen. Still, he would admit it made for a fair children’s tale.

Elders. It had been years since one had visited the Colony. Once, long ago, when he had just achieved adult status, an Elder had come to visit at Harvest. He remembered how the slim, cowled woman had regarded him most oddly, and he thought he might be Called. To this day the thought scared and thrilled him. He paused, wondering. Were the Elders dying out, too? In their unknown home far away?

Well, for better or worse, a Calling hadn’t come to pass. Memories of Elie now flitted through his mind. She had been so beautiful, and so kind, and so very sad. Of course, she had been meant for another, but Jovet’s untimely and senseless death had changed all that. To this day the old man missed his older brother with a bone-deep ache, but he had tried to care tenderly for Jovet’s distraught pairmate, who had then become his pairmate.

He liked to believe he had made Elie happy.

In the deep gloom of the room, he sensed more than saw his young figmentary caretaker settle back on his heels, folding his smooth young hands in his lap. The lad seemed to be taking his charge seriously, for all he could not be real. He thought to ask again, when the boy spoke first.

“I sit here, old one, listening carefully to what you have to say.”

The man blinked. Well, now. It had been a great while since someone had asked him for a teaching saga. Still, one had a duty to any child who asked for wisdom, even an imaginary one he supposed.

“What would you like to learn?”

“Tell me, old one, of yourself.”

Surprised for just a moment, the old one then chuckled dryly. He doubted the boy was really all that interested. No doubt it was his own dying mind asking this question; he always had liked to hear his own voice. Well enough, he’d talk until he was too tired. He settled back against the pillow.

“I was born to Hana and Wim, fifty-five years ago as the sun reached its zenith on the longest day of the year. I was an average boy, and much taken to getting into trouble....”

Time seemed to pause as he told the lad about his childhood friends and his cohort of three; of how he ended up pairbonded to the prettiest girl of all, but only at the cost of his brother’s life; of his brown-eyed children, and the sadness he felt as the Colony withered and faded away about him.

“.... and now I wait to die.”

The man reached for the water again to soothe his dry throat. He had talked nonstop for what felt like many hours, and yet the sky outside remained black with night. The lad had been very still and very patient, never interrupting as even the most well-behaved of younglings tended to do. He was glad that his mind had created a polite figment to keep him company at the end.

“Thank you, old one. I will leave you now to your rest.”

The man nodded and closed his eyes. He suddenly found himself very, very tired. He did not notice when the boy slipped away.

V

ictor awoke abruptly. He’d just had the most incredible dream— but it was slipping away. He had been somewhere else, somewhere where he had been... content, but, no, it was gone— too quickly to recall much of anything except the feeling of loss. Soon, that too faded away. Ah, well. He yawned and stretched, sitting up on the side of his bed while scratching absently at his balding head. He tried to recall what it was he needed to attend to first, as all the while his thoughts stubbornly persisted in refusing to organize themselves. Perhaps he needed to move about.

Walking about quarters cluttered with busy translucent writing boards and various small pieces of scientific bric-a-brac, he still felt as if he were in a haze. He dressed, then brewed a cup of so-called tea to help settle his scattered wits. That dream ~whatever it had been~ must have affected him more than he realized. Wrapping his hands around the white Alphan cup to enjoy its warmth, he walked over to the viewport and looked outside to the planet with its three moons just below. His calculations were too close to say whether of not they would go into orbit. He rather fancied they might, but, then again, he’d be the first to admit that was not based on any firm logic.

The planet was mostly brown, and not a very encouraging brown at that. The almost uniformly flat topography hinted at some remote climatic disaster; perhaps self-imposed, perhaps not. He had set Computer some tasks to accomplish along those lines while he slept. Ah. That was what he would attend to first; he’d see what Computer had deduced about their possible new home.

His progress toward the corridor was distracted when the planet’s lone green bit s lid into view. It was a very small patch, roughly the size of Wales and ringed by the only mountains on the planet. It could have easily been overlooked if he hadn’t known it was there; and even knowing the anomaly was there, it could still be easily overlooked except that the rich, verdant green stood out like a beacon against the unrelenting brown. It was the only welcoming hint of life.

Victor stood in front of his viewport and sipped from the teacup. Slightly surprised to find himself swallowing empty air, he absently set the drained cup on the ledge in front of him.

Computer’s initial readouts showed the planetary atmosphere was as abundant as Earth’s, but utterly inimical to their life form— well, except for that small area. Preliminary scans did not provide an explanation for the small, green area’s isolated existence. There was indeed water, oxygen, plant and animal life in abundance... but only in that small area. A fine mystery indeed. Victor watched the planet spin below the Moon. He enjoyed mysteries.

The green bit was now difficult to appreciate, courtesy of the Moon’s own rotation. Victor left his quarters, deep in thought about their marginal Alphan existence, only idly thinking the corridors seemed very busy, and not thinking of his odd dream at all.

M

ain Mission was abuzz with activity and, for a moment, Victor was actually taken aback that all this was going on and no one had thought to summon him. He stood at the entrance below the Big Screen and watched as Tanya walked past him over to Paul, holding an absolute wealth of curling computer printout tapes, the ends of which coiled in her tall, lithe wake. Sandra was seated at her station, dark head down, working industriously on some bit of something-or-another. David, also seated at his more elaborate console, was currently turned to the rear of Main Mission, facing the closed doors of John’s domain, obviously waiting for them to open and its occupants to join them.

Above his head, no doubt with unseen images to elaborate, there were angry voices from Reconnaissance. Victor heard Carter’s distinctive intonation and something about Eagles not functioning. John had ordered a detailed survey of the planet yesterday, and Victor had rather expected to find data from the mission to be awaiting him.

Rather than diving into the fray, as was his nature, he paused in the doorway, the presence of his well-known colleagues and friends causing odd stirrings of memories, or, more precisely, distinct feelings of déjà vu. He had worked with each of these people for years since Breakaway, and in the case of a few even longer on Earth. He regarded them all as colleagues, but only a very few, like John and Helena, as intimates. Then why was his face warming as he watched the young women?

Victor shook his head, trying to order his thoughts to the task at hand. He needed to finish his assessment on the planet, with or without Alan’s information; John would be expecting answers on the viability of that patch of green. If they did go into orbit it would be their only potential planetary home. He entered Main Mission proper, passing near the bank of viewports when something caught his eye. Something seemed different. In just the brief time since he last regarded their potential home, the green area was not as green. Victor paused to study the sight more carefully, a raised hand pulling at his lower lip. The small area appeared downright sickly. He turned to face the room, looking to catch David’s attention, when... everything stopped.

Out of the corner of his eye, Victor saw John and Helena now standing behind Paul, and Tanya looking toward him with the oddest expression on her face.

Suddenly, blindingly, there was an intense flash of light. His eyes slammed shut against the burning glare as he cried out in pain, the afterimage of the others clutching their heads in agony imbedding itself in his brain. All too quickly, the light and the pain left no room for anything else, not even the screams that echoed through Alpha.

“V

ictor, are you alright?”

There was a cool, feminine hand on his brow, and another one under his elbow. He opened his eyes cautiously and blinked. He wasn’t sure how he felt, to be honest. He felt completely separated from himself.

He pulled himself upright off the floor, trying not to lean on Helena all that much and failing miserably. Once propped upright and grasping the back of a chair for support, he patted the hand resting on his forearm and shooed her away toward others who looked as if they truly needed her services.

Victor looked around Main Mission. Sandra was leaning against a worried Paul, her hands pressed tight against her temples and tears streaming down her face. Victor watched in growing alarm as Sandra’s back arched in agony and she attempted to push Paul away. Had the light somehow hurt her? Good... Helena was headed toward her. Victor felt a pang of worry for the young woman.

From the corner of his eye, David’s clumsy movement caught his attention as the dark man stumbled out of his chair and passed in front of Sandra and Paul, heading toward... Tanya? Victor tried to move toward the collapsed woman also, but what strength he had could barely keep him upright. He could only watch as David all but fell next to the unconscious woman, reaching out a shaky hand to her neck. Victor feared the worst; David’s face was as pale as he had ever seen it. David turned to search the room with unfocused eyes, finally finding the one he sought.

“Doctor Russell, Tanya needs you.”

Helena looked over from where she stood talking to Paul, the now silent and limp Sandra held in his arms, and headed over to Tanya. Victor clutched the back of the chair in front of him as he waited for the verdict.

“Victor, sit down before you fall.”

He felt John’s large, strong hands supporting him and guiding him to his seat, then watched as John worked his way around Main Mission checking on each person. Victor sat still, the pain in his head all but gone, but a strange numb lassitude persisting. He looked at his hands, flexing the fingers one by one. He touched his face, then rubbed his neck. Yes, he was alive. Now that was a strange thought. Was Tanya?

Victor looked back to where Helena and David were bent over the stricken woman. David looked up and caught his eye, nodding in obvious relief. Good, Tanya was alive. He watched her being loaded onto a stretcher then wheeled out to Medical, followed closely by Paul carrying an unconscious Sandra. Helena looked at him briefly, concern obvious in her eyes. He waved to her reassuringly, and watched as, with touching reluctance, she turned to follow the others.

Victor looked around at the depleted Main Mission staff, the viewport catching his eye as he did so. Things had changed there, too. The planet below was the same, but the green patch certainly wasn’t. It was now almost the same color of the brown planet, only identifiable from the still present ring of mountains. Victor looked back to the core of Main Mission and caught John’s eye. The Commander saw it, too. From a distance he heard John call for Carter, and the order for him to get an Eagle ready somehow and prep it for launch.

Then, the numbness took over, and Victor felt the world go black.

“V

ictor. Victor. We need you to wake up now.”

“Hmm?”

The voices flowed around him, only now pausing to include him in their rush toward some unknown destination.

“Victor, we need your help.”

Well then, nothing would do but for him to wake up. Was he asleep? He opened his eyes, more than slightly bemused to find himself laying prone on one of the sofas in John’s office, June of all people hovering attentively in the background. He pushed himself upright and took the cup of water the slender, dark, red-sleeved operative held out for him. He saw John’s anxious face looking at him from across the room.

“Victor, perhaps I should call Helena...”

“No, no. I’ll be alright. Helena has others she needs to tend to. What happened? Is anyone seriously hurt?”

Victor stood up, somewhat shakily, but without any assistance. Was there something amiss with the overhead lights? They seemed too dim, no, not too dim, just not as bright as... that light. What ever had caused that light? He walked slowly across John’s office toward the main desk where John waited, feeling stronger already. The effects of whatever it was appeared to be passing. He handed the empty cup back to the attentive June and nodded his appreciation for her thoughtfulness as she left the Commander’s Office. He looked at John and saw that the somewhat concerned expression remained.

“Really, John, I’m quite alright. How are the others?”

Victor could tell by the way John carefully studied his face that his friend was not entirely certain of his well-being. Still, he must look well enough, or the need was pressing enough, that John did not argue the matter.

“Helena says there are no serious casualties. Several people are still unconscious, but she doesn’t seem to think there will be any permanent damage. Victor, what do you think caused that light?”

Victor paused to review what had happened. He recalled walking into Main Mission, seeing the planet below, the green area not as green, that strange sense of displacement as he had regarded the others, and then that dreadful light. He rubbed his head at the memory of the wretched pain and saw the same remembered pain in his friend’s eyes.

“I’m not sure, John. What do the sensors indicate?”

“Little so far. David is still working with Computer, but so far all he has found is that the exterior and interior cameras are whited-out for the same few seconds we all were screaming.”

“Screaming?” His throat did feel a little raw, at that, Victor realized as he swallowed experimentally.

John nodded grimly. “The audio portion is clear enough.”

That was interesting, and worth further consideration, but just now Victor’s thoughts kept returning to that planetary green area. Just before he passed out there had been... something. “It’s gone, isn’t it?”

John’s eyebrow rose slightly at the apparent conversational jump, but Victor knew his friend was used to such things. John took his seat at his desk and called up data on the terminal, then leaned back so Victor could see for himself. A rotating image of the planet beneath them, information coalesced from several of their advance probes, gave him his answer even before John spoke.

“If you mean the green region that was on the planet, yes. Alan is en route in Eagle 1 to find out more.”

T

he hours passed quickly as they usually did when he was deep in thought. Putting aside his search for answers, Victor looked up from the console where he had labored for the past few hours to join the others watching Carter’s imminent arrival at the planet. From his location he had to turn in his seat to watch as Eagle 1 smoothly entered the atmosphere and initiated a standard survey pattern, gathering as much information as possible. In short order, Eagle 1 approached the formerly green region that was no longer green at all.

“It’s not looking very good, Commander,” Alan reported. “What we’re getting down here isn’t correlating at all with what Computer was telling us earlier. The CO2 levels are way up, as are the hydrogen sulfide and ammonia levels. And there’s not a single respectable oxygen molecule to be found. It’s a right witch’s brew. There’s just no way we can make a go of it.”

Victor exchanged a glance with John, who nodded permission for him to proceed.

“Alan, if possible, please land where we planned. I would like you to obtain samples of whatever flora was responsible for the green growth we saw earlier.”

Victor was not really surprised at the pause before the pilot replied. It seemed, perhaps, a waste of time; still, his curiosity demanded an answer. Just perhaps there would yet be resources or information that the Alphans could ‘harvest’ and use.

“Right, Professor. We’ll have to suit up, but barring any new surprises, that should be a go.”

Paul glanced in Victor’s direction to make sure he had no other requests. Victor smiled slightly and nodded, and Paul turned back to face the Big Screen and resume control.

“Alright, Alan, we have....”

Victor studied the scene from Eagle 1 on the Big Screen until a flash from his computer terminal caught his eye. New data was finally appearing on the terminal. He was still trying to understand the source of that blinding light and Computer was being unusually slow, which was a concern, almost as much as his inability to understand what had happened to them earlier. He added a few more parameters for Computer to consider, then returned to his observation of Eagle 1’s descent.

Helena joined them in Main Mission just as Eagle 1 landed, Sandra and a still pale-appearing Tanya following behind. Victor acknowledged Helena’s look of concern with a smile and was pleased to see her relax slightly. Turning his attention to the others in Main Mission, Victor was quietly amused to see the ever-professional Controller showing a moment of all-too-human relief at seeing Sandra. Victor rather fancied there was a pairing in the works there.

John gestured for Bill Fraser to relinquish his chair at Eagle Ops and indicated that Victor was to sit there where he could have a closer and better view of the Big Screen. A rather excessive amount of concern really, but Victor accepted graciously. Young Fraser resumed his post standing with a quick smile in his direction, appearing not at all put out. All eyes now turned to the image on the Big Screen as Eagle 1 dropped lower into the boiling, turbulent brown atmosphere.

Victor watched and listened with idle interest to the routine chatter between Alan and Paul as the flight progressed. John stepped up behind Victor’s chair and stood with his arms crossed over his chest, silently watching the banks of monitors at the various stations. Helena stepped up to John’s side, and the unaware closeness of the two gave Victor no uncertainty at all that there was another match in the making there. It pleased him to see their community maturing and changing from the structured and formal society it had been at Breakaway.

The Big Screen was showing the occasional mountain tip breaking through the rolling brown clouds that parted in front of the descending Eagle. There was no doubt that this was the area that had appeared green earlier. In fact, this was the only spot on the entire planet that wasn’t wind-scoured and flat; it stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. The mountains now below Eagle 1 would have formed a respectable mountain range on Earth, except mountains didn’t typically come in tidy ring-shaped landmasses encompassing twenty-thousand square kilometers of land. Finally, the Eagle broke through the cloudbank, and what was seen inside the mountain range could not have been more different than what had been outside. The surface below the wispy fog-like brown clouds undulated with valleys and mesas; one especially deep valley even had what could even have been a river delta emptying into what was most likely a broad lake, except it was now full of slag.

As Victor leaned forward in his chair, intent on the scenes coming from Eagle 1, the sensors at Eagle Ops and the Computer printouts at David’s console chattered into life. He attempted to stand, but Helena’s still concerned hand on his shoulder kept him seated.

“Alan, report.” John’s voice interrupted the routine verbal give and take.

“Commander, sensors indicate large deposits of calcium and phosphate in one of the valleys ahead.” Alan succinctly summarized as he turned the Eagle in that direction.

Fraser’s interest was obviously peaked at the information. He looked over to Victor with a slight smile. “Professor, what do you think the chances are of finding the white cliffs of Dover?”

Victor smiled at such whimsy, but those cliffs had needed vast quantities of calcium carbonate and no small amount of flint, “Unlikely, Bill, although I agree, that would be nice. I think more likely that it’s...”

“Bone.” Helena said quietly, and Victor turned slightly to look up at her and nod in agreement.

“Yes, my dear. I agree that is a more likely explanation.”

Main Mission fell silent. The eyes of those closest flicked briefly toward Helena and Victor, then returned to the Big Screen.

The low, sickly-brown clouds outside the Eagle were pushed aside by its arrival to the valley in question. The ground below was jagged appearing, with undulating mounds of prickly spikes covered by what seemed to be a desiccated brown-orange paste.

“Not very friendly appearing, is it?” Alan’s subdued voice came over the commlink.

David stood to collect the printouts from Computer, and after a somber review, he walked over to Victor.

Victor spared the strips a quick glance, then waved David in Helena’s direction. He leaned back in his chair and continued to watch the unfolding, and seemingly unending, vista coming from the Eagle. He rather thought he knew what he was seeing, but awaited Helena’s input. It was her field more than his.

“Skeletons, John. Thousands upon thousands of skeletons.” Helena’s voice reflected the sadness they all undoubtedly felt; to have found life in the depth of space, and have missed it by a tiny geological slice of time. There was no telling what the skeletons once were, except that they looked vaguely quadrupedal.

Victor glanced up to his friends, unsurprised to see the bleakness on John’s face. Once the green patch on the planet had disappeared, even the remote possibility of any sort of existence on this planet had faded; still one always had hope.

Leaving the charnel plain and turning into an adjacent valley, Eagle 1 skirted a mountain that appeared to have an old caldera, but Victor was distracted from that observation when the Main Mission printers again chattered into life, reacting to the new data arriving from Eagle 1. The view now showed dozens upon dozens of small discrete mounds scattered irregularly about a few much larger ones. Large was a relative term, of course, Victor had to acknowledge. The data showed even the largest mound would have fit comfortably inside Main Mission. The Eagle slowed to a hover, its lower thrusters blowing clear the brown clouds.

For a moment, Victor had rather fancied he saw the makings of a small town amongst the mounds, but then he shook his head. That was an untenable idea, to say the least. How could one small community evolve in isolation on such a planet, even if the formerly green patch had supported life? At the very least, it would have taken an immense forcefield or energy dome capping the valley to keep the toxic fumes covering the rest of the planet from intermixing. Could that be what had happened? Had some sort of barrier been lost and the inrush of poisonous gases killed everything living? But then how to explain desiccated skeletons instead of carcasses when there was green just a few hours ago? And where were the mound builders? And what in the world could have powered such a barrier?

“Alan, you are cleared to land.”

Paul’s voice cut through Victor’s ruminations.

“Affirmative, Paul.”

The Eagle landed neatly and Victor could imagine the motions Alan and his co-pilot were going through to secure the vehicle. Victor was no pilot, but he’d had the privilege to sit next to pilots in command modules often enough to have a rough idea of procedure. John looked down at him and caught his eye. Victor tried not to appear too eager to get some answers, but he supposed there was no fooling John. His tall friend’s mouth quirked in a small almost-smile before they returned their attention to the Big Screen.

“Alan, take no chances but see if there are any samples to gather.”

“Affirmative, Commander.”

Helena looked up from the monitors on the Medical Ops console. “Alan, the atmosphere is exceedingly toxic. You will need to purge the Eagle of any traces of it before returning to Alpha. Any admixture of those gases with our atmosphere could be catastrophic.”

“Understood, Doc. We’ll do a full purge on the way back.”

The Big Screen shifted from the monotonous brown view from Eagle 1’s command module to the pod’s interior where Alan and his co-pilot were performing final checks on each other’s suits. The point of view shifted again as the camera affixed to Alan’s sealed helmet was activated and Alan’s copilot could be seen retrieving his helmet and returning to the command module. Victor assumed the man would stay safely isolated up front behind sealed doors unless some emergency arose.

Alan faced the interior of the pod door whose image now loomed large on the Big Screen, his gloved hand activating the mechanism that would conserve and store as much of the clean atmosphere inside the Eagle as possible without rendering it an absolute vacuum. The inrush of toxic fumes into that situation could well knock Alan off his feet.

The pod’s door finally opened, and even prepared against the pressure change, Alan recoiled from the inward rush of the thick, oily gases that possessed an unhealthy brown-green tinge. As the air stilled, it settled and clung to all available surfaces.

Alan wiped his finger along the back of one of the chairs and came away with a discolored smudge on his glove. “Paul, will this pea soup hurt my bird at all?”

Victor watched as Paul and Bill each reviewed the data in front of them, then exchanged a look. Victor thought there was a definite lack of conviction in either man’s expression. Bill activated his communication line.

“It should be alright, Alan. The readings are remaining nominal for present.”

“Right, nominal. Well, make sure you tell me if things even start to become un-nominal, will you?”

Bill grinned at the dubious tone in Alan’s voice. “Affirmative to that, Alan.”

The suited astronaut turned back to the empty doorframe, picked up the carry-kit containing small sterile collection units, and walked to the landing of the stairs now extending to the planet’s surface.

“Alright, Professor, let’s get whatever you want right quick so we can get off this miserable excuse for a planet.”

T

he Main Mission staff watched as Alan stepped out of the Eagle, the pod doors closing behind him. The sounds of Alan’s breathing echoing in his sealed helmet over the commline were the sole reassuring touch of life against the desolation in front of them. After a moment scanning the horizon, Alan headed toward the nearest mound.

“This place is definitely not ‘home sweet home’’.

“Affirmative there, Alan,” Paul replied.

“This place looks, well... creepy is the only word I can come up with. You kinda expect someone to walk around the corner and say ‘boo’.”

The pace of Alan’s regular breathing became quicker as he walked, more so than Helena obviously expected for the fit man. “Alan, how are you feeling?”

“Alright, Doc. The ground is, well, gummy. It’s like wading through wet sand.” A few deep breaths echoed across Main Mission before Alan spoke again. “Can you see that slimy looking black-brown stuff covering the mound? It looks like it might just have been greenish once.”

Offering a still pale Tanya his seat gave Victor the excuse he needed to stand up and move toward the Big Screen. The mound’s covering did have an odd sheen. “We can see it, Alan. Get a sample of that, please.”

“Right, Professor.” Alan arrived at the mound and reached into the carry-kit. The 100-milliliter sealed, sterile sample container was made especially to be opened while wearing pressure suit gloves, but that didn’t mean it had to open easily. Victor watched as Alan struggled briefly, finally getting it open and scooping some of the black-brown covering that appeared to be stuck tenaciously to the surface of the mound. Alan was making a valiant attempt to get the sample inside without contaminating it, but Victor would not be surprised to later find a few errant orange Alphan pressure suit fibers in the mix.

“Mission accomplished, Professor. Where to next?”

“The mounds, Alan. See if there are any openings that might enlighten us to what they are made of or their function.”

“Right. Any preference, Professor?”

“The nearest one, Alan.” Koenig’s voice practical as ever.

“Check, Commander.”

Alan made his way through the gathering haze walking around the perimeter of the mound in front of him, the image on the Big Screen growing dim in the gloom. The view shifted up as Alan looked toward the sun, a quick glance revealing no clouds in the sky. Victor could almost read the astronaut’s mind. This made no sense; the Eagle had arrived just as the solar terminator had passed. Things should be getting brighter, not darker.

“Hey, is someone turning out the lights?”

Victor scratched his scalp for a moment, thinking. “David, check the atmospheric pressure please.”

“Already doing so, Professor.”

Victor turned toward John and Helena. “I think this planet has a few more surprises in store for us.”

David looked up from his console, addressing his findings to the planet-bound. “Alan, the atmospheric conditions are continuing to deteriorate, and the rate of dispersion is increasing exponentially. In a matter of hours, you’ll be in vacuum.”

The pressure gauge on the arm of Alan’s pressure suit filled the Big Screen as the astronaut looked down to verify David’s readings. “Confirmed, David. The atmospheric psi is down by four percent since I’ve left the Eagle. This screwy planet makes no sense at all. At this rate, there should be violent storms here on the surface; instead we’re just getting this queer dimming of the light.”

“Alan, return to the Eagle immediately. I want you out of there.” Koenig’s voice left no room for discussion, although Victor had to stifle the beginnings of a protest. The lives of their colleagues far outweighed any gnawing curiosity.

“Eagle 1, fire main motors and prepare to depart as soon as Alan arrives.” Paul ordered the waiting co-pilot.

“Affirmative, Alpha.”

Victor watched as Alan turned back toward the Eagle, his movements jerky and awkward and his breathing coming harder and more labored.

“The ground is changing, Alpha. It’s more like quicksand now.”

“Can you make it?” Koenig asked.

“I’m... not sure.” The image from Alan’s helmet camera lurched as he fell against the mound; all that could be seen was a close-up of the reddish-brown earth his helmet rested on and the ground sifting apart.

“Eagle 1, launch now,” ordered Paul.

Victor saw Helena’s shocked look toward the Controller. Alan was not yet aboard, or even all that close to the Eagle.

“But, Alpha, Carter is...”

“That’s an order, Eagle 1,” John reinforced.

Watching the rapid changes to the planet, Victor’s heart sank as he understood but hated the dreadful need of that order. John raised his voice when there was no response from the Eagle.

“Get off that surface before you’re sucked under it!”

The roar of Eagle engines filled the commline.

Victor kept dismayed eyes on the Big Screen where the planet’s surface was acting exactly like quicksand, absorbing anything that sat upon it.

“Carter, get on top of that mound. Now.” Koenig paced several steps toward the Screen, hands on hips, his body taut with the tension they all felt. The rasping breaths were reassuring that Alan was yet alive, but in what condition?

“Carter, move!”

Alan spared no words, but the view on the Screen slowly changed as the astronaut looked up and grabbed at the surface of the mound, his grasping hands pulling away chunks of black-brown covering as he slowly scrambled to the top. A shadow abruptly covered him as the buffeting winds from the arriving Eagle knocked him off balance, his landing hard on the top of the mound. A crack appeared in the roof where he lay, widening as Alan struggled to get back to his knees. Suddenly, the Screen went black.

“Alan!”

The Big Screen showed dark. Sandra scrambled to replay what had happened... Alan had fallen into the mound.

“Alan! Report!” Paul’s voice was intense; the utter silence over the commline a death knell. Helena stepped closer to Victor who reached out a hand of support, or condolence?

All eyes turned toward Koenig. Would he order the Eagle back?

“The wind... got knocked out of me. I’m alright.”

“Alan, can you get out? Can you get back on the roof?” Koenig was intense, his worry apparent. If Alan couldn’t climb out, he would be lost. There was no way for the remaining pilot to land the Eagle and go in for a rescue.

“I’ll make it. Might take me a few minutes, though. My leg is trapped on something. Maybe broken. Hurts like bloody hell.”

Walking back to stand by Paul, John held up a hand to forestall any questions from Helena or Victor. He looked at Kano.

“Atmospheric conditions deteriorating rapidly, Commander. If Eagle 1 does not leave now.... “ Kano shrugged.

John leaned forward, both hands placed on the console in front of him. He stared at the dark Screen where intermittent flickers of light could be seen when Alan looked up to where the Eagle hovered overhead. John’s next statement was calm— too calm.

“Alan, you need to get out of there now.”

All they could hear was ragged breathing and the occasional groan. Victor thought he could see Alan’s arms moving in the dim light, dark shadows in front of even darker ones.

“Alan...”

John looked at Paul and then Bill. The question was obvious. How much time dare they give before they condemned Eagle 1 and its pilot to death also? Bill shook his head the smallest amount.

“Can you see him, Eagle 1?” John’s voice asked quietly.

A harsh pang of guilt struck Victor as they listened to the raspy breathing still coming over the open commline. This was his fault. If he hadn’t been so damnably curious, Alan wouldn’t be facing certain death, and an unimaginably awful one at that. Victor couldn’t take his eyes off the Screen, now split to include the image from the camera mounted on the underside of the Command Module. The planetary winds were increasing as the mounds disappeared into the ooze. Soon this valley would be indistinguishable from the rest of the planet.

Main Mission was silent except for the sounds of Alan’s labored, fading breathing. John turned away from the Screen, his face as pale as Victor had ever seen. “Eagle 1, return to base.”

“John...” Helena’s voice echoed the pain Victor felt, and he looked up to see tears running down the faces of Tanya and Sandra.

“I see him, Alpha!”

John whirled about to watch with everyone else as Eagle 1 maneuvered itself as close as it could, the obviously battered Carter emerging from the mound, hanging onto his sample-kit and the small remaining exposed surface with tenacious determination. The pod door opened and Alan somehow threw himself across the intervening distance, his chest and facemask slapping the pod’s floor with a solid thud. The image from the helmet-cam went blank.

“I’m... in. Let’s... get... out... of here.”

Cheers rang throughout Main Mission.

“H

e’s lost a lot of blood, but the pressure suit probably saved his life by keeping him from bleeding out, or becoming infected with whatever bacteria was in that quicksand. His left leg has a closed fracture of the femur, and an open fracture of the tibia and fibula. I’ve reduced and pinned the fractures, but he’ll probably still walk with a limp.”

Helena finished her report to John and Victor as she stripped off her OR attire and washed her hands in the sink. Victor watched as Helena shook her head to herself, no doubt reminding herself of a conversation they had recently shared: Alan always did have the most amazing luck.

“When can we speak to him?” John asked. Both men had questions about what had happened on that planet’s surface, and what Alan might have seen in the mound.

“He’s still under the effects of the sedation. Another hour or two, perhaps longer. I’ll let you know.”

John nodded his head, watching as the nurses wheeled Carter over to a recovery bay and attached the appropriate monitors. The computers over the man’s blond head began a soft cacophony of sounds that were reassuring, even to a layman.

“Call me as soon as he wakes up,” John asked Helena. She nodded and returned to her patient’s side.

John glanced in Victor’s direction and led the way out. “Have you had a chance to analyze what was in that in sample container, Victor?”

They walked side by side down a corridor, almost without conscious thought heading back to Main Mission. The unnamed planet that had so nearly cost Alan his life was behind them now, the Moon continuing its improbable journey through the system.

“Yes, and no.”

“Victor...” John looked at him with a not unfamiliar expression that Victor had come to think of as John’s ‘get on with it’ look.

“There were definite cellular attributes when I first examined it. By the time I divided it up to send samples to life sciences, botany, and microbiology, however, there was only the constituent elements of carbon, calcium and the like to be found.”

John stopped in the corridor and looked at him. “So, that confirms life had been on that planet? Those skeletons were really skeletons?”

“Yes, it appears so. The question now is how did such an ecosystem manage to survive in that small region of the planet, and what changed to cause its rapid destruction?”

John nodded, but Victor could tell his interest was waning. Victor sometimes lamented his friend’s narrow focus on finding them a new home, but he had to admit John was exactly the right man for that all-important job. As Commander, John had made ruthless decisions to keep them alive over the months since they had left Earth, decisions that would have broken a weaker man. In the dark of the night, Victor had often wondered at the cost of their survival so far. The death of that Space Brain for one, not to mention the deaths of Regina and the other Helena, and perhaps even all the colonists on that other Earth. Perhaps it was balanced by the life they brought back to Piri, or those poor chaps kept as ignorant food fodder on the Daria they had saved, but...

“... ... Victor.”

“What, John? I’m sorry, I was wool gathering again.” Victor looked around to see they had arrived in John’s open office off Main Mission and that that operatives were looking toward them for an update on Alan’s condition. John’s expression now held a note of tolerant amusement.

“We’ll hold a meeting later today once Helena says Alan is well enough to talk. If he can’t come here, David can arrange a link with Medical Center. In the meantime, see what else you can find out about those samples, and whatever you can add about that light we experienced earlier. I’ll make sure Paul gets Fraser to join us. I want an explanation on what it was that grounded the Eagles earlier, and a flight status report now. I’d like to wrap this up and move on.”

“Of course, John.” Victor watched as the tall man walked down the stairs to the center consoles, no doubt to provide updates and set everyone onto new goals. Victor turned around to head back to his lab.

“I

can not explain why Computer ... ...”

“... ... files have appeared that I have no record of... ...”

“... ... the changes apparent on the CT scans are all consistent but make little sense... ...”

“... ... we’ve almost managed to get back into Bay 5. If we could get the doors open and the sensors back on line... ...”

Hands clasped behind his back, chin tucked down to avoid making eye-contact for the present, Victor slowly circled the perimeter of John’s meeting room, listening to the snippets of conversation from those standing and awaiting the arrival of the Commander. There was a pattern here, he felt it... but he couldn’t quite see it yet. Somehow, he knew he had to weave all this into a coherent whole. A glance out the viwport saw the brown planet had grown significantly smaller, two of its small moons just barely visible.

“... ... how’s Alan doing?”

Well now, that last was easy enough to answer, especially as the man in question was arriving, pushed in a wheelchair by a laughing nurse. Victor chuckled quietly at the arriving pair. Even having been recently broken, bloodied and nearly left for dead, Alan’s sense of humor was apparently in fine fettle.

The newly arrived John walked over to the battered man, a grin on his face and his hand outstretched. “Glad you could join us.”

Alan shook John’s hand, chagrin warring with relief, Victor rather thought. “Yeah, me too, Commander. I was sure I was a goner there.”

“So did I.” John still smiled, but the smile no longer reached his eyes.

Victor joined John and put his hand on Alan’s shoulder. “I’m glad it turned out as it did.”

“Thanks,” Alan grinned up at Victor. “So, tell me, Professor, what was in that goop I brought back?”

“Alan? Who released you?” Helena approached from the far side of the room, her expression plainly less than pleased. She turned to the nurse for an explanation, but Alan had already encouraged the lass to leave.

“I released myself, Doc.” Alan grinned his most disarming smile at Helena. “David arrived In Med Center to set up a vidlink by my bed and I decided I felt well enough to attend. You know you never catch the important stuff unless you’re here.” Helena seemed to grant that point, albeit reluctantly. Her commlock chirped and Victor suspected it was one of her fellow physicians. She reassured the caller Alan was located and well, and would be returning to Medical Center under her care in due time.

Victor wondered if Helena and Alan had that same sense that there had been something important about that planet they had yet to understand. He was about to reply to Alan’s initial question concerning the planetary sample, when John took his seat and everyone else followed suit. The meeting today included the usual: Helena, Paul, David, Sandra, Alan, and himself of course. Young Fraser was also making an appearance, no doubt as Alan’s intended stand-in.

“Paul, status report.”

“With the exception of Technical, all sections are reporting nominal findings after complete systems checks, Commander.” The Controller briefly glanced at the files in front of him. “The one common refrain from each section head, though, was an initial request for an increase in their allocated Computer bandwidth. It seems everyone feels Computer is running slow.”

John looked at David. “And is it?”

Victor thought David looked more that a bit offended at such a bluntly phrased criticism.

“David, is it?” John repeated.

David schooled his features and replied. “Yes, Commander, she was, and I know why, but not how it came about.”

Victor leaned forward, curious. He had noticed the slowness, too, but he often felt Computer dilly-dallied when reporting out its findings.

The rust-sleeved man continued. “Computer’s memory bank buffer had a dramatic increase in usage. The entire system was laboring under a 98% short-term memory inundation. We have spooled the majority of the new information to long-term external storage units while we sort it out, and Computer is returning to her usual response times.”

“What caused the memory consumption?” John asked.

David looked at Sandra, then back to John. “We’re still working on that, Commander. There appears to be millions of pages of new data.”

John was clearly alarmed. “An attempt to overtake Computer?”

“I don’t believe so, Commander, the information appears... inert. It’s just as if...” David hunted to find an appropriate analogy.

Victor looked over to a copy of David’s summary in front of Sandra who was seated next to him. He saw the numbers and gave a low whistle. “John, it’s as if the entire library of Ancient Alexandria was dumped into Computer’s short-term buffer. It must have completely overwhelmed the old thing.” He ignored David’s strangled protest.

Those around the table looked perplexed, and Helena asked the obvious question, “But from where?”

David shook his head. “Unknown, Dr. Russell.”

John leaned back in his chair and looked at Victor. Victor couldn’t help but glance out at the viewport at the receding planet. John squinted his eyes slightly, obviously doubtful of any connection. “And Computer is not acting on any of this information?”

“No, Commander. It does not seem to be active program code, although the levels of surrounding encryption appear formidable.”

“How long will it take you to form an assessment of the information?” John asked.

“We have a team of people working on it now, Commander. We will have a preliminary report tomorrow.”

John nodded, obviously preferring answers today, but accepting David’s answer for now. He turned to Medical next.

“Helena?”

“Everyone is doing well, John. Alan’s is the most significant injury, and even he should heal as long as he follows medical directions.”

Helena gave Alan a steady, bland look, and was answered with an impish grin.

“There have been no complications so far from that blinding light, although there are some interesting findings on the brain scans I made on those most affected. They may just explain the symptoms of pain and confusion many of us experienced.”

Victor watched in sympathy as Sandra cringed slightly in recalled pain. Victor knew his headache had been bad enough, and she along with Tanya had suffered even more.

Helena picked up the scan in front of her, holding up the magnified image and pointing out an area showing computer enhancement. “This is the region where new memories are laid down and encoded. Every scan I made shows this region to be hyperactive, and even enlarged. I have since gone back and made scans of everyone in Medical, and to date we are all showing these changes. Now why this would cause pain I am uncertain, but I can show that the people who suffered the most intense symptoms are those with the greatest changes.”

Pausing a moment to cast a considering look at the information summary still sitting in front of Sandra, Victor gestured toward the scan which Helena passed over to him. “A case of information overload?”

Helena shrugged. “I suppose that’s possible.”

“Will this cause any long term problems for us, Doctor?” Paul asked, looking up from Sandra with a concerned expression.

“We’ll all find out in time, Paul,” Helena’s soft contralto answered. Paul looked at her, absorbing the implications that every Alphan appeared to be at risk.

John sat silently, absorbing the information. Yet another thing for him to worry about, Victor did not doubt. John turned to the pilots present, sitting side by side. “Bill, your message said you found out why the Eagles wouldn’t launch?”

Bill looked at his section head, presumably to assure himself he wasn’t usurping Alan’s prerogative, but Alan nodded for him to proceed. Bill faced John. “Yes, sir. One of the techs found several lines of inhibitor code buried in the launch sequence. The odd thing is, they’re not there now. The tech took a frame shot of his monitor to document his findings right before that light hit. After he got his wits back, he found the code was back to normal. If not for that frame shot, he said he would’ve doubted himself. Once we got Eagle 1 launched, the tech brought it to my attention. There’s no documentation of who inserted the code, and it sure isn’t anything we’ve seen before. We forwarded it to Mr. Kano...”

All eyes shifted to David who shrugged.

“The code is consistent with our programming, but there is no record of it anywhere in Computer now. I sent a tapeworm-like program to check for any traces but it turned up nothing, Commander.”

John rubbed his eyes, his fatigue becoming apparent. ‘Huh. Ok, chalk it up as another mystery. Alan, Bill, are the Eagles all flight worthy now?”

Bill answered. “Yes, sir. All except the six we haven’t gotten to yet under Pad 5. The teams should be reaching them any minute now.”

John nodded, took a breath and continued. “Alright, Alan. Your turn. What did you see when you were down on the planet?”

Alan leaned back, adjusting his casted leg for more comfort. He looked around the table. “You all saw what happened right up until I fell through the roof of that mound, right?” His audience nodded.

“I landed on my side hard, knocking the wind completely out of me. It was as dark as a...” he glanced at Helena, apparently recalling his manners, “well, let’s just say it was dark.”

Victor saw Paul’s mustache twitch as the formal Controller caught the deliberate change.

“My helmet’s reception took a blow, too, and it took at moment for the backups to come on line and let me hear what Alpha was saying. In the meantime I was struggling to get to my feet in the dark. My leg was pinned under something; it felt flat to the touch, and slick. Kinda like a large wooden table sanded smooth. It weighed a bloody ton, or maybe it was wedged against something itself, ‘cause I couldn’t shift it off my leg. The one thing I had going for me was that the dirt ground in that place was still acting like proper ground and I could push off on it. Since there was no way the Eagle could land with all that was happening outside, I knew I was on my own. Trust me, that was incentive enough to push at... whatever it was that held me down. It finally gave enough and I managed to yank my leg free.”

Alan took a deep breath as he cringed at the memory and looked down as his leg. “I swear I felt it snap. It’d been hurting up to then, but the pain after that took my breath away. It was worse than taking a hit. I could hear you, John, I just couldn’t get enough wind to answer.

“Just about then, I felt the mound shift around me and the ceiling seemed closer, like the walls were being sucked down into the earth. The ground started going soft about then, and my time was just about up. I could see the Eagle hovering overhead; I knew I just had to get back up through that hole. I heard the order for Eagle 1 to return, and...”

Alan looked around and shrugged. “I managed to get out.”

As Victor took a deep breath, he heard Sandra exhale. She must have been holding her breath, also.

“You know what happened from there. We got free of the planet, barely, purged that excuse for an atmosphere, and made it back under full thrust. I don’t remember too much there at the end. Just that a couple of pretty nurses were stripping me out of my suit and that Helena was frowning at me. It’s never a good thing when your doc is doing that.”

Victor chuckled at Alan’s blatant plea for sympathy, but turned to the data analyst next to him to answer the questions Alan’s narrative had raised.

“Sandra, were you able to recover any more detail from those dark images inside the mound?”

The young woman shook her head. “I am sorry, Professor, I have not yet had much time to refine the data.” She pulled up the recording from Alan’s helmet cam on the monitor set up on the conference table. “This is essentially raw feed with only basic filters applied. I have not even had a chance to review this yet.”

Victor nodded his understanding as the room dimmed, then waited for the recording to start. The 3-minute 52-second sequence— only four minutes? It had seemed much longer at the time— first ran uninterrupted with very little able to be appreciated. No one present had much to say, and Sandra again started from the beginning, intent on extracting what she could. The image dimmed, then brightened...

The initial image was frozen: Alan was kneeling on top of the mound crouched over the widening crack which was the main feature. Sandra allowed the images to proceed at quarter speed and the astronaut’s arms and legs could be seen to be weaving back and forth as the buffeting winds of the unseen overhead Eagle pushed him around. Suddenly, and even in quarter speed, the change happened quickly, the surface beneath the astronaut’s knees crumbled away and Alan fell into darkness. The images again paused as Sandra worked with filters and other variables to extract more detail. Slowly, from the all-but-black still frame, a shadowy image waxed and waned. Finally, hard rectilinear lines appeared low to the ground, no doubt the table-like object Alan had mentioned.

The image advanced a few frames, and then a few frames more. There was little movement except the slow rising and falling associated with Alan’s unheard, labored attempts to breath. Victor realized Sandra must have muted the audio. The images now proceeded at half-speed and suddenly cleared enough that it was as if a dim light had been turned on inside the mound. There were sounds of surprise throughout the room.

The enclosed space clearly contained furniture. Along with the low table, for that most certainly was what it was, on which sat wide bowls and a tall lamp-like structure, there was the edge of something else just visible in the grainy images, low to the ground beyond Alan’s trapped leg. It was now easy to see now how his leg had been jammed under the corner of the very low table, the tip of the boot hooked around the table’s far leg.

The images continued to advance, again at quarter-speed, and the view jerked wildly as Alan fought to free himself. Victor ignored the increasingly frantic movements, to concentrate on what else was in the image. It was becoming apparent that this was obviously only one room of at least several by the shape of the walls. It would take more refinement, but he was certain he appreciated a window opening covered with the same brown-black matter that Alan had collected, as well as what was most likely a door to the outside. A blocky structure that may have been a cabinet of some sort briefly appeared, as did a stack of long narrow tubes against a wall, and what was probably an occupied sleeping mat. There seemed to be markings of some sort on the wall. Artwork, perhaps?

The images again swung wildly as Alan unsteadily pulled himself to his feet and climbed to the top of the table. There was a vertigo-inducing blur as Alan first looked down then up and threw himself through the crack. Now perched on the rapidly diminishing surface of the mound, Alan looked at his feet to assure himself of his footing, then in a shuddering lurch, flung himself to the hovering Eagle, and safety.

Victor looked around the still dim room as Sandra ran the images for a third and final time, the expressions on his colleagues’ faces ranging from Helena’s fascination, to David’s frank boredom, to Alan’s distracted concentration. Bill looked as if he was to about to ask a question, but a subdued chirp from his commlock became an unwelcome distraction. Not taking his eyes off the images, Bill raised his commlock, turning the volume on low and answering quietly. Perhaps it was only Victor who saw Bill’s eyes go wide as the young pilot hastily rose and left.

The final replay ended and the conference room’s lights returned to their usual brightness. John looked at Alan, and then at Victor.

“Well, Victor?”

“Well, indeed, John. Except for saying that I am amazed, I can’t begin to explain what we just saw. The old chap on the mat might have proved helpful, but he looked long past ever being alive.”

That observation surprised the others and led to requests to replay those frames as Alan’s eyes went wide.

“Yeah, I thought I saw something like that, but I didn’t want to say anything. I was afraid you’d all think me a right nutter cracking under the strain of it all.”

“Victor,” John interrupted, “do you think our information overload is connected with...” he gestured to the final image Sandra had frozen on the monitor, that of the blurry humanoid form resting in the mound’s interior.

“I... don’t see how. Everything we have seen is extremely primitive, to say the least, but...” Victor shrugged. “Well, barring any new emergencies, we’ll have time to try to tease it all apart, but, well ...” He smiled at John. He rather suspected there was a link with the planet and all that had happened on Alpha, but he also suspected this would ultimately become just another unsolvable Alphan experience.

John studied the image, looked out the viewports in the direction of the brown planet, then turned back to his Command Staff and spread his hands wide. “Just do your best.”

The meeting started to break up. Arrangements were made for David and Sandra to present their findings on the morrow, and Helena walked toward Alan with a no-nonsense expression on her face. As she turned the wheeled chair bearing her errant patient out toward the corridor, Alan managed to get in one final question.

“So, Professor, what did you find in that goop?”

“Well, Alan, we’ll make that the final mystery. What was in that sample? Why, nothing at all.”

And on that note, the group disbanded. There was indeed a great deal to consider, and of a certainty more to be understood once David presented his report tomorrow. Into the dead silence John’s commlock chirped. John shook himself briefly and answered, “Koenig.” Bill’s excited voice rang off the walls.

“Commander, we have Hawks!”

A

week had passed. Enough time to let the almost overwhelming experiences of that eventful twenty-four hours and the day that followed settle somewhat. Well, except for the excitement over the Hawks, Victor granted. Helena had been hard pressed to keep Alan from climbing all over one, the bangs and cracks in his leg’s cast attesting at the least to his through exploration of the interiors of the crafts.

Victor was tired, and not just from his exhaustive review of Computer’s records of their approach to the brown planet, or what had occurred while passing by. He was sleeping poorly, his dreams unbelievably vivid and upon occasion, disturbingly sensual. He was not the only one to be losing sleep, he knew. Helena had commented upon the many visits to Medical Center for sedatives.

Victor allowed himself a few moments respite as he looked out the viewport in his quarters. Once again the stellar alignment allowed him to see the way they had come, the brown planet now present only in his imagination.

His reprieve was brief; the mysteries at hand all too compelling. The information that had nearly overwhelmed Computer was still, for the greater part, unknown. It had turned out that there was 3.2 terabytes of information consisting of neatly ordered files with names consisting of base ten numbers, and amongst which diagnostic programs suspected vast quantities of images. Computer seemed to believe the programming was compatible with itself, but all decryption keys had failed to date. Frustrating, to say the very least. He just did not have any answers for John, and he knew that was exactly what his friend expected at their meeting two hours hence.

There was a knock at his door. Victor smiled. It was entirely old fashioned, but he knew several of the older maintenance staff humored his preference for this way of getting his attention. He walked over and opened the door. It was June.

“Professor? I apologize for the interruption. Computer sent a time-delayed message that we were to retrieve this package today and give it to you. Sandra thought is best to deliver it immediately.” June handed him a small, flat parcel.

“Why, thank you, my dear.” Victor took the parcel and turned it over in his hands. Except for his name, there were no identifying marks upon it. He looked back to the waiting June. “When was it time stamped originally?”

The young woman’s face showed her uncertainty. “The time and date are unclear, but we suspect it was prior to Breakaway.”

“Computer gave today’s date?”

“No, Professor. It simply said ‘now’ and the location of a storage cube in the catacombs.”

“Well, this is becoming more and more interesting.” Victor smiled at June, pleased that the quiet operative was being more relaxed about him. He turned the small package measuring approximately 30 cm by 22 cm over in his hands. It was wrapped in the thick, plain off-white plasticized paper that often enclosed the missives sent from the ILC to Alpha. It felt like a book. He looked up at June, “Who is it from?”

“You, Professor.” June smiled at his open puzzlement, and left.

V

ictor hurried down the corridor. He knew he could have summoned John to his quarters, but he felt the need for action just now; the thought of waiting upon John’s arrival simply would not do, and in any case he needed access to John’s private terminal. He fumbled his commlock off his belt and used it to open the rear door to John’s office. It did not occur to him that John might be otherwise occupied, and his precipitous arrival obviously startled both John and Helena who were standing close in conversation.

“Ah, you’re both here. Good.” He waved the contents of his package in their direction as he walked toward then. “I believe I am beginning to understand what’s been happening!”

John looked at Helena and then at the disheveled professor. “That’s great, Victor, but is that my journal?” John turned back to his desk and opened drawers obviously hunting for his leather-bound book.

“Yes, yes it is! And it holds the key!”

John straightened up and waited for Victor to cross the last few steps to his side. He held out his hand for his journal, but Victor ignored him.

“When was the last time you saw your book, John?”

John looked at Victor, frankly nonplused. “I’m not sure, maybe a week or so ago.”

“Well, it was either a week, or just perhaps, seven millennia.”

John and Helena exchanged looks, frankly and obviously lost. Victor knew he had come up with far-fetched theories in the past and had been proved right, so he trusted they would hear him out. Victor also trusted neither had had the time to do much more than scan David and Sandra’s all too brief summery of the wealth of information now sitting locked away in Computer’s storage banks.

“Victor, you’re not making any sense...”

“I know, I know. Now, just hear me out.” Victor found himself pacing the room, very atypically for him, but there was so much to say that for once he didn’t know quite where to start.

He turned to face the others; catching the look Helena gave John.

“No, my dear, I’ve not gone balmy. I have, however, found the key!”

“The key?” Helena asked, curiosity overcoming her concern for his admittedly erratic behavior.

“To the information in Computer. I know David hasn’t had much luck breaking through the security seals, but that isn’t the poor man’s fault. Not at all, it turns out. It’s mine!

“I even believe I have an idea where it all come from, but it must be revealed here, and by me. Let me show you.” Keeping the journal in hand, he gestured toward John’s computer terminal on his desk. John nodded his acquiescence and Victor sat down. Waiting for Computer to pull up the requested screen, he smiled at John, thinking of how many, many years he had been a friend to this mercurial but compassionate man. He smiled gently at Helena; no, there was no reason to tell John of the dreams involving the lovely lady. He reached out and gently patted the bemused doctor’s hand, then turned to face the desk’s monitor.

The simple screen he had stared at for so many hours over the past week was waiting, its color the same pleasant shade of green that reminded him of his garden in Oxford, the background pattern not dislike the wood graining on his fine antique desk once used by Robert Hooke. The cursor blinked patiently in the very center.

Slowly, he reached out and tapped in the key.

Human Decision Required

For a moment, nothing changed... then the screen blurred into life, a rapid progression of tantalizing images causing both John and Helena to lean in closer over Victor’s shoulders.

... ... Caverns full of tall, robust, food-bearing plants...

... ... Vast caverns with high domes and what appeared to be homes cut into the walls along terraces overlooking a green field below, small hang-gliders of many configurations soaring high near the ceiling...

... ... Unknown slim, brown-haired, blue-eyed Alphans wearing outfits of flowing cloth in the familiar reds, whites, oranges, yellows and rusts...

... ... Energy conversion devices of immense size but of recognizably Alphan origin...

Images came faster until they flickered too fast to comprehend. Then they stopped. Next came data sheets with titles such as ‘Growth Analysis under Variable Supplemental Light Conditions’, ‘Lava Tubes and Domes, Engineering Variables and Residential Viability Studies’, and a many, many paged monograph entitled simply: ‘Genealogy’. The data sheets flickered faster and faster, seeming in a rush to share what was enclosed, and then, as had the images, abruptly... stopped.

The simple, wood-grained green screen returned, a tiny, white blinking icon in its center.

“What the hell was that?” John’s voice was breathless, which was more or less how Victor felt, also. This was so much more than he could have ever hoped for! Victor shook his head, and, taking advantage of yet another new technology gifted to them like the Hawks, reached out a hand to tap at a small icon that now flashed in the center of the screen. The icon grew in size until it declared itself in equal measures familiar, and extraordinary. It was the logo for the common Alphan commpost stand-by screen.

“What...” Helena’s surprise was apparent, her green eyes wide.

They waited, but nothing more happened. John reached over Victor’s shoulder and tapped on the image of the stand-by logo, only to see another selection of tantalizing images fly past.

“Many of those... places look like Alpha, but I don’t recall any research programs ever that extensive or well-developed.” Helena shook her head. She had sat on many Space committees over her career and could claim at least a passing familiarity with most recent and historical lunar-based biological research. She looked over to John, a wistful look on her face. “If only we had those facilities here, John, we could start families...”

“Exactly!” Victor greeted Helena’s words enthusiastically. He popped up from his seat and walked briskly over to the conference table, gesturing for John and Helena to follow. He laid the leather-bound journal on the table and opened it to the first page. John’s strong, bold penmanship filled the lines as Victor turned the pages. Approximately one third of the way into the journal was John’s final entry, the one of the events around Arkadia. Victor looked up at John who nodded. Victor then turned the sheet...

The page started with John’s hand, but after only a few words shifted to one that was clearly feminine.

“That’s mine!” Helena reached out a finger to lightly trace the words. “But I’ve never written in your book.” She looked at John, confused.

“And the next is mine. Keep looking.” Victor urged.

The penmanship shifted every fifth or sixth word, never repeating, male to female, old to young, precise to barely legible; sentence after sentence until the page had been filled.

Our journey from Earth has been long and frequently have we stumbled in the dark. We have met peoples who have helped us, and whom we have helped. We have met peoples who have hurt us, and whom we have hurt. We have been called upon to account for every action on our journey, to atone for each life we robbed of its fullness. Of the choices given to us, we chose to live a day of penance for each life that was shortened due to our actions or inactions. We did not realize how far our touch had reached until we faced seven thousand years of retribution. It took countless lifetimes living lives in ignorance and servitude, robbed of our heritage, to pay our debt.

Our gift now to you, ourselves, is the opportunity to start anew. A record of the knowledge we have learned during the long interlude is contained in Computer. Professor Bergman will open it for you. There will come a time, eventually, for the children to execute Operation Exodus, but the when remains unknown. For now, use the knowledge gained to make a true home on the moon.

We have glimpsed the future and know it one to be proud of. We have paid the price of our hubris. What happens next is up to you.

Be fruitful, and multiply. Godspeed.

In the stunned silence, Victor turned the page. On the back of the sheet filled with the astonishing words was an equally incomprehensible image— a drawing done in a careful hand; a wide mouth flask filled to the brim with crimson fluid. Underneath were the words... fait accompli.

~~~~~~~ Epilogue ~~~~~~~

T

he lava tubes and domes that riddled the moon were being put to excellent use. Using the knowledge found in the seemingly endless files, an entirely new Alphan community had been and was still being built. The original environs of Moonbase Alpha were now only a small part of ‘home.’

Victor strolled down the lava tube that had been smoothed and in parts widened to become the main thoroughfare, pausing to admire the abundant flowering roses blooming along this section. He could have, of a certainty, used the travel tube that ran below this wide tunnel, but found that today he much preferred the leisurely several kilometer stroll. He smiled as the laughter of children rang off the walls and a black-and-white ball shot down the corridor ahead of him. Seven children, all younger than ten-years-old, chased the ball with Alan in hot pursuit, his limp barely noticeable after all these years. The children weren’t all his, of course, although Tanya cooperated quite fully in that regard, but his daughter did lead the pack.

Tomorrow would be the tenth-year anniversary of that day with the blinding light, and Helena had prevailed on him to speak to the Alphans now alive and for posterity about how he had broken the cypher of John’s journal. He had rarely spoken publicly of how that had come about, for the simple reason the answer was as unbelievable as everything else had been of those days. The truth was that when he had unwrapped the journal in his quarters and read the message, the knowledge had simply... appeared in his mind. He had come to suspect it had been planted there along with all the other random pieces of mental bric-a-brac that had appeared since that day with the light, and that the journal had triggered its emergence.

As for the rest of it, well, it had taken weeks, even months, to tease apart what had happened then, and even now he wasn’t so sure he had the right of it. His best guess was that they had lived through some sort of ‘time wobble’ when they had approached that brown planet, now known as Redux. That time itself was, perhaps, folded for a brief while. Or for not such a brief while, given the seven millennia that seemed to have passed unrecognized. His memories of what happened over those fateful days were peculiarly non-linear, as if he had been in a constant sort of ‘live-rewind’, experiencing and re-experiencing a strong sense of déjà vu. Perhaps, even, as if some aspects of his myriad unknown lives had leaked through just then, and in his dreams of many subsequent nights.

And, but of course, the greatest mysteries remained just that... mysteries. Who set up the sheltered valley on Redux? Was it themselves from an alternate reality, or perhaps their far-future selves, or even, their descendents? How did their... essences?... their souls?... get ‘recycled’ through so many lifetimes? Did it really occur over seven thousand years, or was it all a dream? But then, if it were a mass delusion, how had the Hawks managed to be rebuilt from the Eagles last seen only a day earlier in Hangar Bay Five? Not to mention the many storerooms they had later found deep in the Catacombs full of genetically altered seed. Seed that had turned out to be precisely ideal for growing in especially enhanced lunar soil, in caverns outfitted with novel energy devices. Victor knew it had been no coincidence he had found the soil’s formulations and devices’ blueprints in the files as soon as the need was recognized. And then there had been the skills they all seemed to ‘remember’: woodworking, weaving, blacksmithing, even pottery making— abilities that equally bemused their new owners.

Of all the changes they had seen, though, the most surprising to him, just perhaps, were the unusual... relationships, say... that had developed over the past decade. He found he had no lack of companionship, and that there was little animosity from anyone concerning that delicate fact. One of his former students had approached him early on. She was a brilliant astronomer, working on Alpha’s deep range sensors, as well as keeping up with her own pure research. She had convinced him with perfectly logical arguments that they should have a child together, and one of the children running about was his own eldest son, a thing he still found amazing.

Seven thousand years. To think of seven thousand years in which to do pure research. To be able to build upon what you yourself left undone at the end of one life. To a true research scientist that sounded like a dream come true. To the humanist he was, it seemed unbearably painful.

Of all the uncanny things that had been revealed from the planetary files, the greatest was the knowledge that their numbers on the planet had included all the Alphans; all, that is, except poor Anton, whose abduction somehow removed him from the Alphan fate. When that had been truly understood, many yet again had felt the deep grief at their loss, most especially poor Eva. A final act of reparation, perhaps?

Reparation. The word made Victor wonder about the purpose of the Hawks. They were war machines plain and simple, and the time of penance had been just because of the deaths the Alphans had caused, purposeful or not. Still, the presence of the Hawks had turned out to be a true boon. Twice in the past decade they had come across hostile aliens who had threatened Alpha, and Alan and his pilots had marshaled a strong defense and show of strength where no lives had been lost on either side. If nothing else, they had learned restraint. Even amongst themselves, the minor inter-personal conflicts inevitable when living so close together were trivial things. It was as if they had at last learned that golden rule, the ethic of reciprocity.

Victor finally arrived at his goal, the main living cavern that housed over half their increasing population. He looked down the length of the immense space, unimaginable by Terran-based lunaforming standards, that was filled with a light closely mimicking that of old Sol; the ground beneath his feet plush with a modified grass that helped scrub their air of carbon monoxide and other impurities. The girdling terraces carved into the cavern’s walls opened to multi-chamber dwellings, most housing growing families. Those individuals who chose not to pair off, or otherwise preferred peace and quiet, mostly remained quartered in Alpha proper. Unpaired or not, his quarters, though, were here, on the third level, near those of John and Helena. Paul and Sandra lived on the terrace one down, and Alan and Tanya across the green on the far side. He enjoyed being surrounded by his friends and their children.

Victor made his way to the edge of the green and sat down on the grass to watch the football game in progress. The sounds of happy laughter were briefly interrupted by the cries of someone young who took a tumble. He watched as Sandra walked across the field, her bright linen tunic flowing behind her, to check and sooth the young lad. Victor smiled to see the small crisis solved.

A flock of shadows briefly blocked the ‘sunlight’ overhead and Victor looked up, then turned about to follow their source. Small hang-gliders, modeled on those they had seen that day in John’s office, wafted about high in the artificial breeze; a pleasant sight he thought.

“Professor, could Brin join you for a few moments?” Victor turned about to find Sandra in front of him, holding infant Kylie, her no-longer crying son standing at her side. “I need to attend to Kylie, and Brin would like to stay and watch the game.”

“Of course. Come here, my fine lad. Why don’t you sit by me and keep me company? I’m certain we’ll find something to speak about, eh?” Victor was fond of all the children, but he had special bonds with those of his friends in Main Mission, and regarded them as honorary nieces and nephews. As Sandra hurried off with Kylie, Victor and the nine-year-old boy settled comfortably side-by-side on the soft grass and watched the flyers overhead. “So, my boy, what would you like to talk about today?”

The solemn brown-haired child, the eldest of the new generation of Alphans, seemed to consider the offer carefully, silent until he had come to a conclusion. Victor waited patiently.

“Tell me, Professor, what it was like when you were little?”

Victor studied the bright lad, utterly unique and unlike any other person he had ever known, and wondering again at the not-infrequent feelings of déjà vu. Smiling, he then leaned back on the grass making himself comfortable, closed his eyes and started to speak.

“I was born in a wonderful place called England...”

19 Feb 2009

MGK

Return to Enigma

Return to Droplets

Return to Main Page

View My Stats