FOUND
by
Leslie R. Lee
Copyright 2009
“Would you like to hear the latest theories, sir?” Ghenilo asked.
Loren smiled staying calm. The equipment monitoring his health mustn’t detect how much he dreaded and anticipated this final mission.
“Okay, so we open the Ball.” Ghenilo took the smile as permission. “Theory one is the guy inside dies and we find out nothing. Theory two, he unleashes the Universe’s greatest plague, everyone dies, and we find out nothing. Three, he’s God, begins our final judgment by killing everyone, we find out nothing. Four, he’s Satan and really miffed, he destroys everything...”
“And we find out nothing?”
“Exactly.”
Loren considered a moment. “So only one theory has us not all completely destroyed by what’s inside?”
“You know, sir.” Ghenilo looked thoughtful. “If I were in charge... well, first, I’d be giving myself a big fat raise. After that, though, I’d rebury that thing and forget we ever found it.”
“We’re fortunate that you’re not in charge then.”
Loren wrestled his chair for comfort. His sixty year old, pudgy body didn’t belong on these missions any more. The miners had gouged out this room out of the rock as a staging area Comfort didn’t appear to have been uppermost on their minds. All the miners had cleared out months ago. Here on the outskirts of known space, one of their giant excavators on this lifeless planet had revealed this cavern. Inside the cavern was the Ball. Work had stopped instantly. The Tube incident had etched pain in everyone’s mind. Nobody wanted to be the one to release another plague. The military supervised the rest of the excavation of the giant sphere, the Ball as they called it. Their scientists had discovered the existence of the life form inside. A living humanoid.
“How can anything, let alone some one, still be alive after... what’s the latest age estimate?” Ghenilo laughed nervously. “A hundred and twenty thousand years give or take a day or so?”
He affected being easy going and relaxed. But anxiety, Loren knew, drove him to blather on. His friend was generally human looking. Tall, skinny, hairless, with blotchy grey skin. He described himself as an elongated corpse.
“The cavern may be that old but the Ball itself I believe to be far older.”
Ghenilo prattled on as if he’d not heard. “I hear, sir, that the Mining Company’s laid salvage claims on the technology. They’re already taking orders from the military. If they can figure out the life support system, they should make a mint.”
“Indeed.” Loren hated being called ‘sir’ but Ghenilo persisted despite repeated warnings. “Technology that can keep a humanoid alive for so long is to put it mildly, impressive .”
“How can they be so sure that it’s the same humanoid?” Ghenilo groused. “Maybe there’s been a series of offspring? Damn scientists. Always keeping things to themselves.”
Loren didn’t bother to remind his assistant of the scientists’ nauseatingly detailed reports on the subject. Like so many things, he just accepted the “expert word”.
“Far Reach should not have brought you back, sir,” Ghenilo repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time. “An apology, yes, but not for this.”
“I’ll be fine.” He must have said that more than a thousand times. Not just to Ghenilo but to all of the First Contact staff of Far Reach. And to his wife back on Earth. “I’m the logical choice and am glad for the chance.”
Ghenilo blasted air through nostrils that lay flat against his face. “The way they treated you was disgraceful.”
“I’m happy to be of service again.” You just don’t know how happy I am.
“It’s your immunity to the Spook, the bastards.” Ghenilo’s face wrinkled with bitterness.
The Spook. Strange name for a plague. It had been released by an artifact, the Tube, found on an asteroid in a system devoid of life. The archeological find had been brought to the Coalition’s Far Reach division. Loren had been responsible for the small metallic tube. Dealing with artifacts wasn’t the best of duties. But not every day could be an adventure. He couldn’t complain having had his fair share of first contacts. His work was considered exemplary though ignored by most. Others garnered the greater acclaim after first contact was complete. But why care? He enjoyed laying the foundation to future negotiations, then slipping away. His problem was dealing with the inevitable stretches of inactivity. The occasional odd artifact that turned up, like the Tube, had been a welcome distraction from the monotony. Or used to be welcome.
He had scrupulously adhered to quarantine policy. All the space faring cultures had gone through periods of dumping hazardous waste in space. Toxic garbage dumps long abandoned by their owners were not unknown. Though dangerous, salvage rights could be lucrative. Finding a single artifact devoid of context was quite rare. The Tube had been opened, tested thoroughly, exposed to the complete gamut of sterilization, and Loren, his job complete, handed it to the archeological department.
They’d been the first to die. The Spook was no ordinary virus. Some theorized it was a weapon specifically designed to kill whoever found it. The parts of the virus had masqueraded themselves as harmless materials. After the virus had reassembled itself, it replicated slowly in the host. The delay allowed it to spread in the populace. Sheer luck had kept the contagion to a few systems. When the virus reached a critical threshold, it triggered. Fatality had been almost ninety percent. And not a quick death. No, it was a slow, ugly, painful struggle. The sick and dying drained the medical resources to the point of collapse.
Loren had been one of the few who had been outright immune. He wished he hadn’t been. So many had died. And the accusations rained down on the Far Reach program in non-stop torrents. The blame had to end up some place and it was Loren that took the full brunt of the flood of vitriol. He wondered whether they’d simply lynch him in the street. He’d been surprised as anyone when Far Reach called him back from exile. Until he realized they were afraid that this Ball might be another Tube. Then it was particularly logical. They didn’t need to say that the mission was redemptive. Nor that it was dangerous.
“They’re taking advantage of you, sir. It is most unfair.”
“Of course. The same way I’m taking advantage of you by asking you to be my assistant.”
“Assistant?” Ghenilo said bitterly. “I’m not even going to be here. You should let me stay.”
“I need a trusted liaison as protocol demands. You must keep things under control on the ship.”
A knock at the door startled Ghenilo into cursing. “Come in,” he snapped.
“Sir,” said a young woman, peeking in. “We’re ready.”
“Very good, we’ll be right along,” Ghenilo said, glancing up nervously at the ceiling. They both knew that the military vessels in orbit weren’t there to rescue anybody. If necessary, they’d destroy the entire planet “There’s absolutely no evidence that this artifact has anything to do with the Spook. None.”
Ghenilo was chanting everyone’s favorite mantra. Whatever technology that had placed this thing here was orders of magnitude more advanced than the Tube people. There was no evidence that the two artifacts separated by light years, were even slightly related. Distinct technologies, datings, locations, everything was different. But no evidence didn’t mean no chance. And the Coalition had been burned once and that was enough.
“I’m ready, Ghenilo.” He rose and walked stiffly towards the door. The suit he wore didn’t fit well. The equipment monitoring his health and providing communication bit into his skin, making him itch.
“This isn’t a death sentence,” Ghenilo insisted.
They traveled to the vast cavern the engineers had constructed providing rudimentary life support around the giant sphere. Too cold for Loren’s liking and despite the number of lamps, too dark. The Ball seemed to suck the light and warmth from the air. It hunkered down in a depression, a sullen black stone. Engineers had attached a structure to the surface. That would be his home for an unknown amount of time. Or his tomb.
“If not for the earlier accident,” Loren reminded the young alien, “we would not act as if this is an impending disaster.”
Ghenilo nodded glumly. “I just have a bad feeling.”
“And when do you not have a bad feeling?”
“I haven’t had such a bad feeling since that date with your wife’s sister.”
“You didn’t go on that date.”
“Exactly.”
“Ghenilo,” Loren said, holding out his hand. They were at the air lock. Others stood or milled around and he didn’t want to create a scene. “I shall see you soon,”
The alien smiled weakly and shook hands. “Of course, sir. Good luck.”
“Thank you.”
He entered the airlock, and then passed into the room that was the interface with whoever was in the Ball. The doors hissed shut. There was no way of opening them from inside the interface. He sighed. He’d succeeded. Still, this was going to be the hardest part. He sat at the table and meditated. Ghenilo and the rest of the personnel were hurrying to the evacuation ships. He responded to last minute communication checks. There were slight rustlings from the test animals hidden from view in this otherwise sterile room. White was the predominant color. His overalls, his shoes, white. The floor, the ceiling, the desk, the chairs all white. Clean and stark. The usual trappings of first contact. Those contacts had been between civilizations and their representatives, usually negotiated for common ground. This was one person. What would he want? After being imprisoned or secluded for thousands of years, what would he say? First contact usually involved a huge number of unknowns. There was almost too much information for this contact.
“Sir,” said Ghenilo in his ear. “We’re clear.”
“Please proceed.” He stood.
Robots made the final cuts into the Ball then moved the plug aside. He thought it should have been somehow more dramatic. The scientists had already calibrated the air that Loren was breathing to be more like that of the Ball’s. He didn’t notice any difference. The air in the Ball mixed with the air in the sealed alcove. There it was tested one final time, then the last seal was broken and the glass door slid back. He breathed deeply glancing, briefly, at the emergency breathing apparatus. If it was needed, he’d be dead before fully regretting his inattention in the training sessions.
He waited. A monitor showed him the entrance to the Ball. There was no movement. Maybe the alien had died instantly after all. The alien could hardly be surprised that someone had cut a hole into his home. Machines had been tunneling through the outer part of the Ball for weeks. The last act, pulling the plug had been relatively easy. Despite the noise, scans showed that the inhabitant hadn’t changed his routine at all. The scientists just shook their heads. Even if he was deaf, he must have felt the vibrations.
Loren knew he too was being watched. His behavior was studied, surreptitiously, his life investigated thoroughly. They’d questioned him intently on why he’d withdrawn from public life, hiding himself away, finding safety in anonymity. Finally, satisfied that his desire to bury himself away was a natural response to the Tube incident, they’d called him here. As Ghenilo said in exasperation, “Like, duh...” Now, it didn’t matter. He’d held it together. He was in charge. First Contact rules were strict and clear. And one of the first rules stated who ran the show. No longer at the mercy of the media, the politicians, the military, and all their suspicions and contempt, he was back in control.
He waited.
Scanning through the Ball had been difficult. The Ball’s environment was somewhat understood, the alien much less so. He, they’d taken to calling the creature he, was humanoid in appearance. And he held to the same routine every day, the “day” being about 26 hours long. He awoke, ate, did something which could be reading or playing on a computer, ate, napped or possibly watched something, ate, read. Sometimes exercised. Sometimes just sat there. Most concluded he was listening to some kind of music. Then slept.
“He appears to be eating,” Ghenilo said. “They suggest you initiate contact.”
Loren looked at his watch. Yes, it was lunch time. He sat down to wait. Finally, Ghenilo informed him the alien had finished his meal. Loren continued to wait.
“You’d think that this jerk would be interested in who the hell cut a big honking hole in his house,” Ghenilo breathed angrily. Frustration came easily to the young man. “The growing sentiment here is that you should just go in and haul his butt out of there.”
Loren allowed himself a small smile. Maybe it would come to that but not now. “Any news on contaminants?”
“Nothing so far. No biologics as far as the scientists can tell. At least that’s what they’re telling me. But nobody’s taking any chances.”
“Remind them to keep their fingers off any triggers.”
Ghenilo snorted a laugh. “You’re no fun.”
Loren thought that allowing the alien to come out would set a less belligerent tone than just walking in. He’d prepared himself for all kinds of reactions. Fear, curiosity, anger, even a certain amount of madness. But complete lack of interest was strange indeed.
He went to the Big Box O’ Beads as Ghenilo called it. Gift exchanges were sometimes required. There were the usual technological trinkets and sophisticated knickknacks. No, he needed something else. He walked to the food stores and found a bottle of water.
“You should eat something as well,” Ghenilo said. “This could take a long time.”
“The water’s not for me.”
“You’re going in now? Good, they like that here.”
“I’m waiting for his dinner.”
“They really would like it if you went in there now.”
Loren sat back down.
“Did I mention, sir, how much they would really like you to go in now?”
Loren willed himself to relax, to let time pass over him, meditating.
“He’s starting to prepare his evening meal,” Ghenilo breathed into his ear. “If it’s something good, grab a doggy bag for me.”
Loren smiled grabbing the water bottle. He walked through the passageway to the door cut into the Ball. The wall of the artifact had to be at least ten meters thick. The plug was only about two meters thick. The material was oddly rocklike though he knew that it was some unknown alloy. The Mining Company would be very happy if they could duplicate it.
“Comm check,” Ghenilo said, as Loren walked in.
“I’m hearing you. Please go to safety.”
The comm would beep periodically confirming an open channel. But they’d be quiet and just listen. He had memorized the route to the main living area. Still, he was surprised when he turned a corner to see the alien standing at a table looking at him. Loren breathed carefully. No sudden moves.
“Finally!” the alien said, irritably. The accent was unknown to Loren. Definitely Common Lingo though. Maybe a slight Canadian, Western Canadian, lilt. “Took you long enough.”
Loren kept his face calm. This was unexpected. The massive computing power of the orbiting ships was primed to begin the long process of translation. He imagined the computers wilting in disappointment. “I’m sorry. We thought you would come out.”
“Why would I do that?” The alien bustled around his kitchen. “You want to stay for dinner?”
“Yes, thank you,” Loren said. “Your command of our language is excellent.”
The man nodded smiling almost proudly. He was taller than Loren, over two and a half meters. Thin. His skin was wrinkled but not overly so, with a pale bluish pallor. His humanoid features were topped with a shock of thick white hair that stood up as if he’s stuck his finger in a cartoon electric socket. Eyes were dark brown. He appeared to be about a seventy year old male human with a bad complexion.
“I’ve been listening in on your communications.” Loren could almost feel the shock emanating from the orbiting ships. “Primitive language, not difficult to learn at all. Talk about boring though. Wouldn’t you think that people who can travel faster than light would do more than just gossip. Do you know you have a crewmen on one of those ships that insisted on describing in exquisite detail an outbreak of pimples on his bottom to his girlfriend? Now, I ask you, has romance evolved so little?” Loren firmly kept his jaw from dropping. “Did you bring some wine?”
Loren shook his head. “Unfortunately, it’s just water.”
“Pity.” The alien looked disappointed. “I read about it in your data banks. It’s intriguing. I could rustle some up, I suppose, but it wouldn’t be the same.”
Loren wondered how much the alien was panicking the military. He hoped they show a little restraint. He tried not to look at the ceiling.
“My name is ...”
“Loren, yes, yes. You may call me Juan.”
“I’m glad to meet you, Juan.”
“That might change.”
Loren placed his bottle of water on the table between two place settings. He decided that the best approach was to allow Juan to take the lead. Apparently, the alien knew far more than anyone had expected. Meanwhile, Juan fussed around the kitchen, taking different food items out of a preparer and placing them onto plates. He placed two dishes onto the table.
“Please,” he said, indicating a chair.
“Thank you,” Loren said sitting down when his host sat.
“I decided upon something simple to start with using my available supplies which are somewhat limited.”
“I can imagine.”
“I doubt that. Do you have any idea of how long I’ve been waiting?”
Loren tasted the stew like dish. He was taking a chance trying something that hadn’t been fully tested.
“This is quite good,” Loren said.
“Thank you,” Juan beamed. “As you might surmise, I don’t get much of a chance to entertain.”
Loren opened the bottle of water and poured into two cups on the table. “It is pure.”
“I’d hope you’d be careful.” He sipped the water, then swallowed. “Unlike at other times.”
Loren smiled carefully. “We’ve learned.”
“But have you learned enough?”
He shrugged and continued eating, slowly.
“I suppose you have many questions.” Juan asked, widening then narrowing his eyes as he stared at Loren.
“The people I work for have many questions.”
Juan laughed. “Yes, they would have wouldn’t they.”
Loren sipped some water as well and continued eating.
Juan picked at his food. “You’re very quiet.”
“The food is quite good.”
They finished in silence. But he could almost feel the impatience pouring down from the ships above. The safety signal had become a call tone. Ghenilo or somebody wanted to say something. And Juan was desperate to speak.
“Thank you for the meal,” Loren said.
“You’re quite welcome,” he replied airily.
“It’s getting late,” said Loren, rising to his feet. “I’m sure you must be tired.”
“No.” His voice was cold, as he too stood “I don’t appreciate games.”
“Neither do I. Let’s meet tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” There was a sharp angry burst of laughter. “Tomorrow? Alright. As you wish. Breakfast then.”
Loren nodded and started to leave.
“Are you going already?”
Loren didn’t look back. “Yes.”
“Wait!” Juan yelled. “You don’t seem to care that I’m going to destroy every one of you.”
Loren turned and looked back. “You don’t mean that.”
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this. And I’m not going to be denied. There isn’t anything that you can do to stop me.”
“As you wish.” Loren proceeded to the exit.
“Your attempts to contain me will fail.”
“I’m sure they will.”
“I know all about you. I know what you want to do.”
He kept going. “I’ll be back tomorrow. We can speak then.”
Did Juan really know?
“Is that wise?” Ghenilo said in his ear as he left. He could hear people yelling at his assistant in the background. The big alien was taking a lot of heat. He alone was allowed to speak with Loren, though they could command him to say anything. They sounded like they wanted to do a lot of commanding.
“Tell them not to do anything rash up there. For now, there’s no danger.”
“That crack about destroying us didn’t go over really well, sir. They’re thinking of implementing their preemptive solution.”
“It’s premature. There is much of value here.”
“Suppose Juan decides to make the first strike.”
“He won’t.”
“They want to know how can you be sure. We know very little and he knows a lot”
“It’s unexpected but we’re still here.”
“Yes, well, there so many accusations flying around up here we need a flight control.” Ghenilo paused to listen to someone. “We don’t know what Juan’s intentions are and they don’t think you’re helping out the situation.”
“Patience.”
Loren terminated further conversation with the orbiting ships He checked on the animals making sure the robots took proper care of them. The animals all appeared healthy. He had no trouble falling asleep.