Eye In The Sky

by Craig C. Willms

2004-12-29T21:29:00.000-08:00

willrocc@msn.com

Prologue

The very idea of a planet inhabited by human beings thousands of light years beyond the most distant Orrian colony was not only preposterous it was simply impossible. Humanity spread outward from Orr; it couldn't just appear at random.

In the blink of an eye, every notion Orrians had of themselves and their place in the universe had changed. It was as shocking as it was fascinating. The weeks that followed the return of the survey pilot, young Deppopio, were the most exciting in all of history.

A pale blue planet the locals called Earth became the focus of the world. It overwhelmed Orrian society and soon threatened to forever alter an ancient and beloved culture. Many tried to explain it all away by declaring Earth a rouge Orrian colony separated from the homeworld by centuries of isolation. Theories such as these were quickly swept aside as all the evidence pointed to an entirely independent origin. The primitive, yet incredibly complex people of Earth proved to be an endless flow of discovery.

For the curious billions on Orr and her colonies, Earth was a treasure, there was something for every one. Everything about the Earth was equally tantalizing and frightening. The planet itself was like none they had ever seen. Mother Earth was the most biologically rich world ever mapped. What a prize Deppopio had brought home with him. There had been no event in Orrian history to compare it to.

Still, not everyone was so delighted. By using the same low frequency radio band transmissions that led Deppopio to Earth, billions of Orrians witnessed the wretched behavior of ‘the primitives’ in living color. The brutality and cruelty on daily display was enough to make even the most hardend Orrians utterly horrified.

As time passed, more Orrians became sickened by the drama that unfolded before them. Twentieth century Earth was bloodiest era in all of human history. It was clear that the citizens of the blue planet were not the lost brothers and sisters many had once imagined. There were those who sought to protect the Orrian culture from being contaminated by the primitives and their violent ways. They were able to persuade the High Council to put a stop to any attempt to make contact with the natives or their murderous governments. Despite continuous efforts by sympathizers of every stripe the ban on contact with Earth withstood each challenge. Nothing had happened to change that. Until now.

* * *

Every fledgling Galactic pilot dreamed of a mission like Deppopio21; Dakkalia was no exception. Did he ever really expect it would happen to him? Not likely. He understood one simple fact; the galaxy was extraordinarily vast and life exceedingly rare. Still, some of his close friends had made truely remarkable discoveries. Had these happened before Deppopio’s time they would have captivated the world for decades. But Dakk had not been so lucky the first three times out. The promise of glory had eluded him. Empty handed and thoroughly humbled he returned home for the last time. There would be no Dakkalia4.

Or so he thought.

He found himself persuaded to take one more shot at glory; he agreed to a fourth mission and nothing would ever be the same...

Nothing from his previous assignments could have prepared him for what he was about to behold. On the first day out he encountered something that rendered Deppopio’s discovery entirely trivial by comparison. He found himself caught in the crossfire of an ancient war being waged on an intergalactic battlefield with weapons beyond all imagination.

His first reaction was to run home - to sanity. Only a sense of duty compelled him to stay. When he realized his tiny jumpship had gone unnoticed within the interstellar apocalypse he decided to learn whatever he could. Tucking his little ship among the battlefield debris, he focused the ship’s entire sensor package toward the firefight.

When it was over there were but two ships intact. One was a battle hardened warship and the other a set of lightdrives with a sensor array strapped to it’s back. His only comfort was in the fact that they still didn’t know he was there. It meant he possessed the one thing that could save his life: the element of surprise. It was imperative it stay that way.

He watched intently as the warship moved from one debris field to another. At first, this behavior confused him; what were they looking for? Without provocation, the warship fired its forward weapons rendering its target into dust. Again, the next crippled ship came under another torrent of devastating blasts. Suddenly, like a slap across the face he realized he had been a fool. How could he have missed it? Life signs. They were looking for life signs.

Terror would not adequately describe the feeling that welled inside him, a word for it did not exist. He watched in perfect silence as the warship fired volley after volley into each of the crippled ships until they were reduced to nothing but flecks of dust. It was clear that the victor had no intention of taking on prisoners; the stranger from the planet Orr would be no exception. If he was going to live, he had to get out from behind this drifting death trap.

He searched his memory for a basic physics lesson learned a lifetime ago at the Academy. The theory held that a standard emitter array could provide a decent magnetic pulse. The pulse, when reflected off the hull of the damaged ship, would provide just enough push to clear the debris without forcing him to engage the ship's thrusters and drawing attention to himself. And yet, to get away cleanly he'd still need a diversion - something loud and brash was called for. He had just the thing…

He prepared a pair of standard mining charges to detonate against the hull of the crippled warship. It would make a fantastic explosion. The timing of events would be critical. He would need enough time to charge the lightdrives from a cold start. During that process he would be completely vulnerable. If by some miracle it all worked as planned the chances of tripping the light barrier before being ripped apart were slim at best. He set the acceleration path to break the plane of the local solar system to minimize the danger of colliding with one of a million pieces of battle debris. It was a standard maneuver that carried with it no assurance of safe passage.

When it was over and he found himself waiting in the unforgiving silence of intergalactic space with the incomprehensible scene playing over again in his mind eye… First, the tremendous flash as the mining charges fractured the hull of the burned out warship. Then, the eternity that passed as he waited for his lightdrives to heat up. There was the moment of sheer panic as the warship approached him. Finally, the premature sense of relief as he broke out of darkspace alive and in one piece. But even in victory he knew enough to watch his tail. He was ready when the warship blasted right down his own warp trail. This set into motion a series of events that led him in and out of the void forty times, and still he was no further away from his pursuer. In a sense, he was right back where he started - entirely alone and paralyzed with fear.

The time was now to make the ultimate decision. He cleared the console; the General Theory of Chaos was brushed aside. A new, untested theory would take its place. Untested because no one had ever been willing to "ride the rim" and risk teetering on the point of no return. He smiled nervously; straddling the event horizon of a black hole was theoretically possible and really, what did he have to lose? If it worked he would escape and be free at last from the grips of this horror. If it did not, then he would die. By doing nothing he was already dead. The choice was made. He laughed boldly; yes, he would be the first to "ride the rim". He would be the first to be perched precariously on the edge. Lean one way and disappear forever, lean the other and live another day. His only consolation was knowing that if he slipped he would take them with him. That was good enough. Either way it would finally be over.

He thought of home. He tried to imagine what would happen if he made it back. Were the Orrian people prepared for this? It was all so incredible. Yet, perhaps the most startling thing of all was that the barbarians chasing him across the galaxy were not strange and hideous life forms. They were not strange at all; they probably even had names to go with their human faces.

Chapter 1

2004-12-28T21:27:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER ONE

"It’s called a floppy disk, you say?" Sollalia muttered. It felt rigid in his hand. "It's actually quite stiff."

"No, no, it’s the material inside," explained the boy. Snapping it out of Soll’s hand Gellseno slid back the cover revealing the disk inside. "There… It’s a very thin layer of magnetic coated Mylar."

"My-what?"

"Never mind, it’s not important. All you need to know is that this is authentic. This was made on Earth." He scanned the label for the words ‘Assembled In USA’ and pointed them out to Soll. "It's the real thing."

"I see," Soll mumbled. "Is it still in wide use?"

"No. It's very old technology even by Earth standards, but there are still machines that will accept the floppy disk."

"Good. That’s good," Soll said quietly. "Now, how do I use it? Will I need an Earth machine of some sort?"

Gell walked quickly to the console. "It would give you a feel of authenticity if that's what you were looking for, but no, you won’t actually need one. Since the Renegade resurfaced… You know as well as I what that means. Certain Earth artifacts are going to be difficult to come by for a while. We'll have to synthesize a drive unit for you right here," he waved his hand over the console. "Have you thought about what sort of application you want to use?"

"Application?"

"You’ll have to bear with me, sir. Earth computers are quite beastly. They are clumsy and non-intuitive - you literally have to tell them what to do. And then, of course, the person accessing your marvelous creation will have to have the same application or it will display pure gibberish. Now we can create a self contained wrapper that will allow it to run anywhere, but I thought you were looking for authenticity." Gell’s grin stretched as Soll’s bewilderment grew. "Believe me, I am serious, beasts, these things are beasts. You’ll see for yourself soon enough."

Soll's days at the Institute ended long before the information age on Earth had begun. Like many people of his generation he understood what Earth computers could do, but had little knowledge of how they actually worked.

Gell smiled slightly, "Now, if you tell me what you want to do with it..." The nervous tick of Soll's quick movements to tidy up the space between them brushed aside the boy's question. "Or, maybe not..."

"Nothing important really," Soll said rapidly "The console can assist me with whatever I’ll need." Desperate to steer Gell away from the subject he offered a meaningless disclaimer. "It’s just a silly little project I started a very long time ago. Someone like you would be bored with foolishness of an old man."

"That’s not so. Well, I am curious why you insisted on this being authentic." Gell held up the floppy disk. "We both know a synthesizer could make an exact replica, or something a little more modern."

"What is a replica?" Soll asked rhetorically. "It’s nothing more than a fake." Soll reached up and pulled something from the shelf. Young Gell, being perhaps the world’s eminent scholar on Earth culture, instantly recognized the familiar shape of a Coca-Cola bottle. "Tell me Gellseno, how does the old familiar saying go?"

Gell’s shoulders dropped as Soll’s point struck a chord. "It’s the real thing..."

"Need I say more?"

"Point taken. Then, if I may ask, who would know the difference?"

"I would," Soll said tersely, his voice raised. He immediately regretted it. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come across that way. It’s just that I take my studies very seriously, as I know you do." Eager to get off the subject Soll put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I understand your work on the Bolshevik revolution has stirred up some controversy."

Gell took the not so subtle hint; responding humbly. "A little, I guess. I’ve contended for a long time that Lenin’s role was quite misunderstood by most historians on Earth and on Orr. Had he not died when he did and the butcher Stalin not bullied his way into power the Soviet Union might have been able to compete with American market capitalism for the hearts of the common people around the world. This was especially true during that critical time when the western economies went into the Great Depression. It was crucial time for democracy and the ideology of the free market system. Fortunately Stalin showed the world the true face of Soviet communism." Gell stopped when he realized he’d gone into more detail than Soll had had in mind. "It’s always great fun to stir things up among the Mentors. They can be so arrogant."

"I agree, I caused enough trouble for them in my time" Soll added with a smile. "I hope to do it again."

"What is your thesis on?" Gell asked while Soll slowly shook his head. "If you don’t mind my asking…"

He sighed. "Of course, I’ve been a little evasive, I know…" He realized denying Gell a credible explanation would only raise his suspicions. "I guess it’s no secret I’ve been interested in the media’s manipulation of the public on Earth for a long time," he offered. "In America they call it the fourth estate because its power rivals the influence of the three branches of the government on public policy. Or, is it so completely controlled by the unseen government as to be one and the same? " Soll grabbed the disk and held it up. "I intend to present my studies to the mentors the same way many people have gotten around the manipulations of the media on Earth... A subtle point, but powerful just the same."

"The Internet." Gell offered.

Soll nodded. "Exactly. So you see why I need this to be authentic. This floppy disk as you call it is of the era when the Internet was born, an important moment in Earth's history. If I presented a replica would I not be guilty of the same kind of manipulation used by the media on Earth? "

"Indeed, I really must see this when it’s finished. Would you object?"

"I would be honored to have you review my work. If authenticity is the goal then I can think of no one better to check my accuracy than you."

Again, Soll put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. "Let me thank you for getting this for me. I know you have taken a great risk. I guess we both know the High Council’s policy on trafficking Earth contraband has more than a few holes in it."

"I must admit it was a strange request coming from a sitting member of the High Council..."

"Say no more," Soll warned, his finger covering his lips. "These walls have ears."

***
It was dark by the time Gellseno began the trip back to the city. Soll watched from the edge of the pad as the Network transporter cleared the treetops and disappeared. The day had passed without his notice. Surrounding him on all sides the sounds of night echoed ceaselessly through the jungle. He stood quietly watching the pale orange sky through the forest canopy as wispy thin wave clouds past silently overhead. It would rain tomorrow.

Gellseno was an enigma to him. The boy seemed wise beyond his years. There was a certain something in his way, a maturity, a polish, that belied his young age. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he knew he liked the boy immensely. Perhaps it was because being with Gell forced him to review his own life. His youth had been preoccupied with mischief making and merriment, whereas young Gell actually seemed more interested in studying Earth than girls or parties. Nevertheless, it was precisely the boy’s passion for Earth that rekindled memories of himself when he was that age.

His own son, Dakkalia, was the risk taker, a real player, and not a static analyst like himself. At this very moment, Dakk was somewhere beyond the sun tripping among the stars seeking an immortality his father could never understand. Ultimately, Soll was content to explore the galaxy from the safety of Orr. In all his years he had never even ventured beyond the moon Jarr. Perhaps his having an irrational fear of the hyper-sleep pods that countless colonists and tourists had traveled in for centuries, precluded his opportunity to explore deep space for himself.

He smiled inwardly. There was only one place he would go if he ever left the safe confines of Orr's gravity again. While he had never been to Earth, he knew many people who had. Some made the trip legally, but most had not. Their stories were always perfectly captivating and wonderfully told. But none compared to the original. Deppopio, the Great One himself, could tell a tale like no other. One never grew tired of hearing it.

When they met many years ago it did not seem likely that they would ever become friends. Soll was a brash, young student at Terrekka’s City’s famous Institute of Earth, the school that Deppopio himself had founded. Depp was the Institutes High Mentor and a staunch supporter of the High Council’s Earth policy. Stubbornly contentious and naturally defiant, Sollalia, of course, was not. Yet, incredibly, the relationship that grew between them profoundly changed the face of Orrian politics. By the weight of his actions Soll had unwittingly launched Deppopio’s remarkable political career. It was a rise that propelled him into the Supreme High Chair of the Orrian High Council. What had begun as a lesson in animosity between mentor and student found the young man ultimately following his master to the table.

In a youthful zeal to stir up trouble among the cultural preservationists, young Sollalia had carefully and anonymously created a mythical character that came to symbolize a growing movement among the idealistic young people at the Institute. The rebel group affectionately known as the "Earthies" was suspected of causing the UFO phenomenon on Earth. Led by the mysterious Renegade, (the name coined by Deppopio himself) the rebels released thousands of drones disguised as atmospheric monitors into Earth's orbit. Each drone lay dormant and undetectable until activated. For the next forty years the Earth was plagued by unusual disturbances in the skies. The drones, once spent, would self-destruct leaving not a single trace of their existence.

At first it was great fun. The drones performed flawlessly. The preservationists were clearly outraged and a new political movement on Orr was energized. Everything was working out perfectly for the rebels but for one small matter. Soll had counted on a revolution on Earth that never happened. There was no outcry from the people of the blue planet, no demand for answers. Yes, there were some reports in the newspapers but no one seemed to treat them very seriously. It seemed as though the citizens of Earth were born skeptics. No physical evidence was ever found and without the participation of the mainstream media there was nothing tangible for the people to rally around. There was a deliberate stonewalling of every investigation by Earth's powerful governments, even going so far as to pay off other nations to do the same. They had successfully labeled anyone who cried UFO a nut or a charlatan. Soll was disheartened. He began to regret what he had done. But there was no turning back. The drones would continue to activate randomly until they were all gone.

At the Institute, students began forming a new political party in opposition to the cultural preservationists. The preservationists, supported by Deppopio was a powerful, organized force that was not going to be easily dislodged from power. Incredibly, what the Renegade had set into motion rolled forward on its own momentum. A battle had begun and there would be no stopping it.

Understandably, it came as quite a surprise to Soll when Depp requested that he join the elite student group that studied directly under the Great One himself. At first, they were suspicious of each other; barely a word was spoken between them. Soll kept entirely to himself within the group. He was convinced Depp was only using him to get the Earthies to turn on the Renegade. Though Deppopio could not have known at the time, the Earthies did not actually exist. Soll had deliberately crafted the reputation of the rebel group as a cover for himself. Indeed, the Earthies and the Renegade were one in the same.

Whether Depp even suspected the truth didn't matter, it was plain to everyone that something was bothering the young man. Sometimes the defiant ones, Depp would later admit, were the ripest for re-education. The Master wasted no time with this one. Slowly, day by day he chipped away at the boy’s brittle exterior to expose lingering self-doubts that lay beneath the surface. Eventually he was able to convince Soll that the primitives had already altered Orrian life in profound ways. Things would never be same. There was no telling what might happen if Orr was to embrace the people of Earth. Depp explained that the primitives were like a pollutant that was gradually contaminating the flow of Orrian culture. The evidence was all around; Soll had just refused to see it before. His jaded eyes saw only a wondrous planet of unlimited potential shamefully squandering it all in a sea of violence and slaughter. To that end Depp’s point was made. Should they really take such a chance with their own rich and beautiful planet?
The Renegade was dead, and yet it wasn’t over for Soll. The head may have been severed but the spirit lived on. As much as he wanted to end it all, he could not recall the drones. He had designed them with intuitive intelligence; they could learn and adapt, eventually taking on a life of their own. They learned to avoid detection ¾ any detection. Likewise, at home, he could not stop the swelling of the radical political party his handy work had spawned. It had gone far beyond an excitable group of students at the Institute. Remarkably, Earth Party candidates began winning seats on regional boards with their very first appearance on the ballot. Soll was paralyzed by it. He could not even offer to help his master fight for the preservationist’s cause for fear of exposing himself. He was powerless to do anything. He lived in fear that somehow his secret would be revealed. He rose to political power quietly, treading lightly in the shadow of his friend and Orr’s most famous citizen. He could only wait out the decades until the last of the drones mercifully burned themselves out.

When at last he was free, the drones finally gone, he found his voice again and led the charge against the Earth Party. He trounced them at every turn. He felt invincible. Together he and Deppopio joyously declared victory over a discredited political movement. But the celebration was short lived. Without warning, it began happening again.

"The Renegade is back!" Shouted the Wave reporters around the world. No one was more surprised than Soll himself. There was a new Renegade lurking in the shadows of the institute. More aggressive than the original, this Renegade was anything but subtle. Landing flying saucers on the White House lawn, buzzing Number 10 Downing Street and the Kremlin was something that defied logic. This new Renegade was not only boldly mocking the law but also taunting the authorities on both worlds.

The intrepid new Renegade had the effect the young Sollalia had desired so many years earlier. Every incident brought the drooling media one step closer to blowing the lid off. In two short years the primitives had their world turned upside. The once ridiculed UFO culture was now the king of the media mountain. The market system wasted no time in flooding the eager with all manner of goods and services further fueling the impending firestorm. The American government held fast against the criticism. The denials out of Washington only heightened the anxiety. All the major religions embraced the visitors as God’s messengers sent to declare the coming of judgment day. The UFO phenomena affected nearly everyone on the planet. It was the only topic at the coffee shop or on talk radio. Everyone had questions - or answers.

On Orr, the reemergence of the Renegade had energized a dying political party. Public sentiment was beginning to change. The powerful Party of Orr, once seemingly invincible, began to crumble around the edges. Soll could not stop it. Even the great Deppopio could not slow the hemorrhaging. Unless the Renegade was found and stopped the Earth Party would take control of the Orrian High Council and put an end to the Earth Doctrine forever.

Through it all Soll’s relationship with Depp had become strained. The fact that Depp charged him with finding the elusive one struck Soll as odd at first. The more he thought about it, however, the more the brilliance of the man became clear. Strangely, he relished a task, as if somehow finding this dangerous person would clear his good name with someone he cherished. The sting of Depp’s disapproval was more than he could take.

In the end his investigation went nowhere. He had seemingly met his match. Turned away cold on every aspect of the chase, the only thing he learned was a connection between the Renegade and Galactic Mining and Mapping existed. He soon found that reaching into the depths of an organization as powerful as Galactic Mining and Mapping was an exercise in futility.

Membership into "the mining’s" exclusive club was highly coveted and few were willing to share their secrets with a sitting member of the High Council.

With nothing to show for his two years of work he could not face Deppopio again. Tending to his official High Council functions as a holographic projection he retreated to his shelter outside of Terrekka’s City. In Terrekkan jungleside, he could be alone.

Dakkalia, his only connection to the living, was the one thing in his life that made him proud. His only son, the wanderer, was in perpetual motion and even when he wasn’t strapped to the seat of a jumpship he was never at home. Soon his child would be settling into a jungle retreat of his own. In his heart he knew the time had come to free Dakk of the burden of being "his boy". He also knew that Dakk would never leave without his blessing. Soll had been so caught up in his own shallow life he failed to recognize that his son was a grown man ready to begin a life on his own.

He had become convinced there was a young woman in Dakk’s life now, though nothing was ever said about it. The mystery girl was no stranger but he would let Dakk introduce her in his own time. He was glad his son had found someone. He smiled to himself and his heart jumped. He dreamed of experiencing the fire of love again himself. There had been lovers since Teff but no love. There was a time when he convinced himself he would never fall in love again. How wrong he was…

Two years ago everything changed when a friend introduced him to an extraordinary woman residing in the most unlikely of places. It took just one look at her picture and his heart was captured. From that day he longed to meet her, to talk to her, to touch her, but she was so far away from him. There was only one person on Orr who could get his message to her. More than ever it was imperative he find the Renegade.

He reached into his pocket for the disk Gellseno had brought him. The two-dimensional shape felt odd to the touch but it brought a smile to his face. He had a letter to write.

He turned to walk back into the shelter when something caught his eye. Before his mind could register it the fleeting glimpse had vanished. A light of some sort, perhaps two, he mused. The symmetry suggested the running lights of a Network transporter, but that was unlikely. By rule, the Network must announce when it has dispatched a transporter so close to a residence. No such announcement had been made. He scanned the jungleside for evidence of luminent flies. The large, iridescent bug often flew in pairs. Squinting to capture the last of the sun’s rays he studied the dense underbrush. Seeing nothing, he continued walking toward the shelter, his thoughts already on something more important.

***

"You fool!" Larrvino screamed. "He saw us."

"Relax. I know what I’m doing," Gellseno assured him. "He’s so oblivious to the rest of the world right now we could fly this thing into to his welcome room and he wouldn’t even notice."

"You’d better be right. If you mess this up you can forget about our little arrangement."

Here come the threats again thought Gell. Larr had promised to procure him a passage to the only place in the galaxy he ever wanted to be. In exchange he would help Larr destroy Sollalia’s career. Gell had nothing against Soll, on the contrary, he believed Soll to be an honorable man, but he had his own interests to consider. Larrvino was a means to an end. The way things were going lately he was beginning to think that there had to be better means.

"You’ll know what he’s doing when I do." Gell added sarcastically. "What makes you think he’s the Renegade anyway?"

"That, my little friend, is none of your business," Larr said in his requisite condescending tone. "Your job," he continued, "boy wonder, is to find out what he intends to do with that disk and let me worry about the rest." With his eyes transfixed on Soll’s enormous sheltertree he said breathlessly, "that man in there has something I want."

His current rank with Deppopio not withstanding, Soll was heir apparent to the most coveted seat in the world. While Depp had considerable influence over the choice of his successor he had so thoroughly cleared the way for Soll that not even he could stop it now. If Larrvino ever stood a chance of snatching it for himself it was imperative Soll be completely disgraced and his political ambitions snuffed out. Once poised in the center of political power he alone would crush the Earth Party’s resurgence forever. The way Larr saw it, Deppopio didn’t have the heart to do what needed to be done. His academic background and his connection with Earth left room for differing points of view. If it were left up to a schizophrenic Sollalia the outcome was far from certain.

For a moment, there was complete silence inside the idled transporter. Gell could feel the intense concentration as Larr’s gaze burned into Soll's home. It wasn’t hate that Larr was feeling toward Soll - it was pure envy. Convinced that Soll didn’t deserve all that he had achieved Larr set out to prove to Deppopio that it was he who had carried the preservationist’s cause all these years. By all rights the party owed him the center chair on the Orrian High Council.
"He tried to tell me he needs the disk for a project at the Institute," Gell finally said. Larr said nothing, his unblinking eyes telling the story of his heart. "Anyway," Gell continued, "he was trying to satisfy me with some jumble about his research on Earth's media conglomerate. He was grasping for something. He didn’t really want to talk about it, I could tell he wanted to change the subject..."

"Would you be quiet?" Larr said politely. Gell stopped in mid-sentence his mouth agape. "Thank you. Now, get me out of here."

Chapter 2

2004-12-27T21:04:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER TWO

The red-eye from San Francisco to Reagan International was deserted. The most famous person in the world was the lone occupant of the first class section. Feeling no eyes upon her was a welcome respite. At thirty thousand feet she felt completely safe from the constant crush of the paparazzi. Everything had gone as planned. Miraculously not a single camera had been thrust in her face. She smiled briefly. For a moment she felt like herself again.

For Julia Rayhied going out in public had become a tedious, sometimes dangerous ordeal. Her every move had to be carefully planned. Each transition timed and executed with synchronized watches. Each public outing was more elaborate than the last. Alternate routes were mapped out, diversionary itineraries planted and look-alike sightings staged all to protect Julia from her adoring fans. It seemed crazy enough all right. No one told her it would be like this. She wouldn’t have believed them anyway. Honestly, no one really lived like this, did they?

She tried to take it all in stride, the good and the bad. Being the star of television’s most popular show was not without certain benefits. There wasn’t a soul out there that didn’t want a piece of that. It was the seamier dividends that no one really wanted to hear about.

"S.E.T.I.’s Universe" had made her a world famous icon, a regular household word. It was estimated that a billion people in over hundred nations tuned in every week to see her and the amazing footage she presented. The impact of the show was unprecedented in television history. It peaked every standard it was measured against. Instant fame in such massive proportions could’ve taken its toll on her, but she loved what she was doing, and believed in it with all her heart. She felt at home on the set among the lights and cameras. It was as if she’d been searching for this unlikely role all her life. She liked the person she saw on that little screen each week. Slowly, subtly she was becoming that person. It was odd at first, but soon it came naturally. Driven by an internal force she did not understand she found confidence and maturity. Yet, strangely, she did not worry about the girl she had left behind.

Julia Marie Rayhied was brought to America at age seven by her father. He was a research scientist and lecturer in New Delhi. Her American mother was a Red Cross worker stationed in India during the floods. The family never looked back when he accepted a position on the Berkley faculty. Julia and her dogs grew up in the safe and comfortable suburbs of San Francisco. Life was good.

Her perfect world was shattered suddenly when both her parents were killed in a tragic plane crash. She was seventeen years old completely alone in the world. There was no family in California. Her father’s family was still in India and her mother was from Wisconsin. She had never even met her relatives from up north. Besides, she told herself she had no intention on leaving California. With a generous life insurance settlement she was able to put herself through college. Financial worries aside she devoted all her time to her studies and graduated at the top of her class. Two years ago she was editing videotape at a local cable access channel. She was fresh out of college and getting her first taste of the broadcasting industry. It was a foot in the door they told her, real world experience. Others warned her that cable access would never launch a career. They told her she would be foolish to waste her talent on garbage no one would ever see. Her early critics might have been vindicated had it not been for a desperate man named Glenn Stratton and his pathetic little local cable access show.

She met Glenn on the set of "S.E.T.I. Listens"; a low budget cable access program he hoped would help bring in badly needed contributions. Glenn Stratton Jr. was the director of the once proud space exploration program left withering on the vine by an unsympathetic administration. Barely surviving on contributions from a handful of dedicated benefactors and some equipment on loan from NASA the program was quietly going broke. He couldn’t pay enough to keep good people on staff. He never once blamed any of them for bailing out on him. He would do the same in their shoes. Local volunteers produced the modest TV show with himself as the host because he couldn’t bring himself to ask anyone to do it for nothing.

She remembered the first time she saw the show. It was truly awful. Glenn was uncomfortable and awkward on camera. His bumbling made her cringe with empathy. Despite the gaffs, the subject matter absolutely intrigued her. The whole notion of extraterrestials visiting the Earth ignited a passion in her she had no idea existed. She found herself staying late on Wednesdays to watch the taping. One evening Glenn asked her to join him on the set. She grudgingly accepted. She would play the part of host, asking the questions and he would answer as if he were the expert guest. She agreed to do it having no idea what she was getting herself into. The following week he called and asked her to be on the show again. She did it. And he called again the week after that. As the rash of UFO sightings around the world lit up the airwaves more and more people began to watch the show with intense interest. In fact, the shows rise in popularity was directly proportional to the amount of time she was on the screen.

She was a natural in front of the camera. She had a grace that reached out from the TV and grabbed the viewers. It couldn’t be explained it was something entirely intangible, but it was very real. It was no coincidence that very soon Glenn was only on the screen a few minutes each episode. Therefore, no one, except perhaps Julia herself, was surprised when the show began to attract the attention of cable industry insiders. They thought they’d seen it all when cable outlets all over the U.S. and Canada picked it up the feed. The show achieved genuine cult status within six months of going national. Soon thereafter the new and improved S.E.T.I.’s Listens caught the eye of a wealthy philanthropist from Phoenix, Arizona. He agreed to fully fund the show if Julia would agree to sign on as permanent host. "S.E.T.I.’s Universe" was born.
The weekly show combined science, mystery and Julia Rayhied’s natural beauty and personality into the hottest hour of television ever devoted to science. Fueled by the world’s growing obsession with UFO’s and extraterrestials S.E.T.I.’s Universe achieved credibility where others just went for the throat. Julia was just as likely to see herself on Scientific American as she was to see her face plastered all over the covers of People and Vanity Fair. She received invitations to everything. It seemed everyone wanted a piece of her. Most of the time she graciously declined. She knew enough not to spread herself too thin. But last week when Liberty Cole, the President of the United States of America, called her, she accepted without a moment’s hesitation.

Invited to Washington on behalf of the Cole administration Julia was to go before the Congressional subcommittee on Science and Technology to lobby for the funds to complete the final phase of the Global Array project. The Global Array project, a military program taken off the ash heap of history and thrust back into the limelight, was the hottest topic inside the beltway. Starting out its controversial life as a classified project under President Reagan the Global Array was a key part of his strategic defense initiative program. The Global Array survived the onslaught of terrified Democrats as bent on destroying his presidency as they were SDI itself. Unfortunately, it could not survive a succeeding administration hostile to the idea of funding military space projects. Three quarters of the way to completion the plug had been pulled by the new Democratic administration. As powerful as she was Libby Cole could not jump-start it again without help. So in return for any help they could give the President S.E.T.I. was promised privileged access to the completed array. Having the most popular TV personality in the nation on her side gave the president confidence that opinions could be swayed in the stuffy halls of congress.

Presently Julia felt more like a special agent on a top-secret mission than a television star. By presidential request no one was to be told of her appearance at the committee hearing. The last thing Liberty Cole wanted was runaway speculation about her true motives on the Sunday morning talk shows. It was no secret she had been taking a beating in the mainstream media on the whole UFO matter. After all, a UFO landed on the front lawn of the White House! The president, they said, did not see it, but hundreds of people did. How could she simply stick to the lie? It was driving her numbers down in the polls with less than a year and a half before the election. This publicity stunt would be the perfect boost for her sagging popularity ratings as she headed into next year’s primary season. For this the president was no fool. S.E.T.I.’s Universe was a huge hit. It seemed to give the people some comfort in these incredibly strange times. She needed to tap into some of those good feelings for herself.

Traveling alone, even being alone, was a luxury Julia rarely experienced any more. Back at the office, only Glenn knew anything about the trip. He made all the arrangements himself as he always did. It was the first time she traveled without him; it was a strange sensation not to have him sitting next to her on the plane. Even in his absence he left nothing to chance. Her instructions were simple: she would fly to Washington alone, meet a man from the State Department at the hotel and do exactly what he told her. It was all so clandestine; she giggled, like a Robert Ludlum novel. The only thing missing was the street lamp, trench coat and the rolling fog. It made her spine tingle when she thought about it. She would enjoy the moment for as long as it might last because come tomorrow all hell was going to break loose.

The soothing hum of the two massive Pratt and Whitney engines was comforting. The attendant dimmed the lights shortly after the captain had made the requisite announcements. She stared blankly at the overstuffed briefcase on the seat next to her. It was packed with fan mail she had intended on reading when she found a minute. When she began pouring through them she felt slightly embarrassed that her life seemed to mean so much to people she had never met. She began to dose off after about the twentieth proposal of marriage. Somewhere between Colorado and Missouri she started to dream.

The forest was lush but not so overgrown that she could not walk with ease. The sound of a child’s laughter echoed through the trees. There was a hacking sound in the distance, like a hatchet or machete slicing through a thicket. She spun around trying to locate the source. She saw a glint of metal and started walking toward it. The trees here seemed different, like nothing she had seen before. The colors so vivid they hardly looked real. What was this place? She had never been here before yet everything felt strangely familiar. She came upon a man clearing brush around a smallish tree of the same sort she had seen along the way. His back was to her and he did not see her approaching. Who he was she did not know. Somehow, she knew she belonged to him. They were in love. A branch snapped under her foot and he turned to face her...

"Excuse me, Miss Smythe. Jane Smythe..."

Julia’s eyes popped open. The flight attendant was standing over her. "Wha... What?" she sputtered.

"This fax arrived for you. It was labeled urgent. I apologize for disturbing you."

"No. No, that’s all right," Julia mumbled taking the piece of paper from the attendant. "Thank you. You did the right thing."

Once the flight attendant returned to the galley, she peeled open the tape pausing momentarily to read the name on the cover. Jane Smythe. The name was Glenn’s idea. It lacked any imagination, but it would have to do. The fax could’ve only come from Glenn himself since he was the only one on the planet who knew she was aboard this flight.

..............................................................................................……………………………………
Dear Miss Smythe,
My name is Jerry Baines and I am big fan of yours. However, I do not want you to confuse what I am about to tell you with the ranting of a fanatic.

First, you must be wondering how I knew where to find you. It is my job to know such things. I would’ve used your real name but I know you require anonymity. I am the president of Baines International, a research and information company based in Santa Fe, New Mexico. This is public knowledge and can be easily verified by you when you have a chance. I urge you to do so.
Second, I have something that I know will interest you. I have in my possession physical evidence that proves the visitors have indeed landed on this planet. I’ve never shown anybody or even mentioned the existence of these artifacts to anyone until now. I chose you because I sense something about you that I’ve never felt about anyone before. You are the one. I wish I could be more specific, but I can’t. I want to meet you and show you what I have. I suggest a public place, or anyplace you would feel safe. It is not my intention to frighten you. I believe once you’ve seen and touched this evidence with your own hands you will be as intrigued as I am. I beg you to consider a meeting.

Lastly, I feel I must warn you about what you are getting yourself into. The United States government cannot be trusted. I’m sure Liberty Cole is a fine person and in my eyes has been a good president, but it’s not the President that you should fear. She’s as much a pawn in this game as anybody. There’s an entity operating within the government that has the ultimate power. I urge you to be careful. They do not play games.

I will contact you after you’ve had a chance to consider my proposal. I’ll give you a number to call. If you say no I will understand and you will never hear from me again.
Sincerely, Jerry Baines
…………………………………………………………………………………………….

She smiled. He almost had her. She knew Glenn had a ripe sense of humor but this was over the top. She inspected the header; it had been faxed from New Mexico. Nice touch, she had to admit, very clever. She yawned as she tossed the fax on the pile of unopened letters; her heavy eyes closing in unison with the paper as it came to rest. That was the last time she gave it any thought.

***

The Holiday Inn was quiet. The lobby as barren as her conversation with the driver on the long cab ride over from the airport. It was strange how Julio, a recent immigrant, who did not have command of the English language, had apparently memorized the street signs enroute to every hotel in the Washington metro area.

Glenn chose the aging hotel situated just off I-395 in Alexandria because it was likely to be the last place one would expect to find a celebrity of her stature. It was inevitable that the news would leak out that Julia Rayhied was in town, the White House would see to that. The old Holiday Inn would be disregarded by foaming at the mouth reporters as out of the question for someone like Julia Rayhied.

Behind the desk one lone clerk sat, his head buried in a book, the headphones covering his ears leaked what the kids would describe as music. She set her bags down with a thump hoping to draw his attention. He looked up at her and then returned to his book.

"Excuse me," she said softly. The boy looked up again and slammed his book shut and peeled the headphones off until they dangled around his neck.. "I have a room reserved."

"Name?"

"Ju...Jane Smythe."

He keyed in her name and waited impatiently for the printer to spit out the registration form. "The room’s prepaid, I’ll just need a credit card for incidental charges."

Giving him a credit card was out of the question. She reached in her handbag for some cash. "I prefer to pay with cash."

"I’m sorry, we have to have a credit card." He explained it to her as if he’d been forced to say it a million times before. "It’s hotel policy. My manager really gets on my case if I don’t get a credit card number."

She laid five crisp one hundred-dollar bills on the desk and spread them out as if it were a winning poker hand. "I think this will cover everything." His eyes lit up. "And keep the change."
"Yes, I believe you’re right," he exclaimed. "This will definitely take care of everything and here’s your key Miss Smythe." She smiled at him. Money had a funny way of smoothing over everything. She picked up her bags and started toward the lobby elevators. "Oh, Miss, I almost forgot." He grabbed a piece of paper and scurried around the counter. "This fax arrived for you about a half hour ago."

"Thank you," she said taking the paper out of his hand.

"Hey," the young man said with his head cocked in an inquisitive tilt, "your voice sounds familiar." She was afraid this would happen. The over sized tinted glasses, backward facing baseball cap and floppy clothes would fool the eye, but the ears were not so easily tricked. Glenn’s instructions to her were clear; she was to talk as little as possible. Despite having been in America for nineteen years she still maintained a slight accent from having learned the King’s English in her native India. On TV it was part of her charm. As an undercover traveler, it was a real problem. "You sound like that lady on that TV show."

"TV show?"

"Yeah, that show about flying saucers, you know, SETI... something."

"I’m sorry, I don’t watch much TV," she said as turned toward the elevators again.

"You really should watch that show," he urged. "It’s really cool."

"Yes, I’m sure it is."

On the elevator she casually scanned Glenn’s latest installment. It was short and to the point. Glenn’s alter ego, one Mr. Jerry Baines, requested an answer to his proposed meeting. There was an 800 number provided and the assurance that if denied he not bother her again. She smiled; Glenn certainly was having fun with this.

Inside her room she set her bags on the bed and reached for the phone and punched in the 800 number she had already memorized. The voice on the other end was a recording introducing a voice mail system. A recording soft-spoken man came on claiming to be Jerry Baines himself. She giggled; Glenn was going all out for this. " Okay Glenn, you’re on," she said with a chuckle. "We will definitely have a little meeting when I get back to San Francisco. Good-bye."
As she replaced the handset on the cradle she suddenly felt a tinge of fear. What if wasn’t Glenn? He always said the world was filled with crazies. It wasn’t impossible that some one could have found her. In fact, thinking back over the past year no matter how hard they would try to cover her travels with intentionally misleading information somehow one crafty reporter or photographer would always get through it.

She grabbed the television remote control from the nightstand. Like most hotels the Holiday Inn had each room connected to the World Wide Web via the TV. She clicked on the national telephone book and found the Santa Fe business directory. She did a search for Baines International. It was there! She did a general sweep for information on the company after an unsuccessful search for the company’s DNS entry. In a Wall Street Journal report she found a brief description in a listing of privately held companies. Baines International: president and CEO Gerald Baines. Specializing in research for foreign corporations and governments wanting to do business in the United States. Net worth estimate: 800 million to 1 billion dollars. Could Glenn have done all this? Playing a practical joke was one thing, but this was going too far. The whole thing was beginning to frighten her.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. She jumped from the bed; her heart immediately lodged in her throat. She tiptoed to the door and peered out the peephole. A man in a dark suit stood alone with his hands folded in front of him. "Who is it?" she called. He held an ID badge to the peephole. She could not read the name but she could see the logo of the State Department across the top. It was her contact. She sighed heavily and unbolted the door. "Come in."

***

The committee members had never seen anything like it. The usual order of things had succumbed to a sea of virtual chaos. Reporters and photographers were crawling over each other for position. Every VIP in town was there. There were rumors floating around that the President herself was in the building. Two years earlier a subcommittee hearing on funding for the Global Array would’ve hardly commanded a mention in the Congressional Quarterly. Today it was the only show in town.

The original force behind the controversial super-radar installations was the dream of knocking incoming ICBM’s out of the sky. The six legs of the array, one at each pole and four around the equator, would’ve given the pentagon an unprecedented view of space. With the ability to track any incoming object to within a centimeter of accuracy the array was touted as the keystone to America’s missile defense system. Space based laser systems tied to the array could’ve conceivably eliminated the danger of an accidental launch from anywhere on the Earth, thereby preventing an unintended full-scale nuclear war. However, there were those who didn’t want to see the arms race spill over into space and did everything in their power to stop it. Dubbing it "Star Wars" and painting President Reagan and the conservatives as warmongers the liberals along with their friends in the media successfully poisoned the well. Taxpayers and voters wanted nothing to do with expensive and speculative military space ventures. The first Bush administration quietly completed four of the six legs of the Array before the Clinton White House put the brakes on the idea of deploying any missile defense system. Only the Antarctic and Indian Ocean installations were left to bring on line. This circumstance was highly dismaying to America’s military planners as it was widely accepted that the next nuclear threat was going to come from Middle East regimes that supported terrorist organizations. Iran was on the doorstep of having long range missile capability. Pakistan and India, already possessing nuclear weapons, were not far behind. There was also China, the new sleeping giant, to consider. The people of Earth had lived with the threat of nuclear war for decades upon decades. The banal notion that each generation would be the last had permeated human society so thoroughly that it had literally become it’s own mythology. It was always in the back of the mind but never seeming real. However, the reach of worldwide terrorism and these dismaying lights in the night sky were very real. Nearly every one on the planet had seen or at least knew some one who had seen the lights. People wanted straight answers from their government. They desired the truth for once. The Global Array was proclaimed the ‘essential key’ to the truth and protection.

Julia Rayhied was hustled into the building through an underground service entrance. The darkly tinted windows of the Chevrolet Suburban held the identity of its passengers in secret. Mr. Brown, the man the State Department provided as an escort, said little to her since they left the hotel. Apparently it was not part of his job to make friends with his assignment; he was going above and beyond the call of duty. He seemed unimpressed with her. Perhaps it was a facade, his game face. It probably took years of extensive training to appear this stiff and emotionless. Still, being ignored was a strange sensation to her. After several attempts at small talk she gave up and returned to her notes on the history of the Global Array.

Inside she was ushered into a basement studio where she watched the proceedings on a video monitor. The debate was lively. It was quite clear that several members of the committee were hostile opponents of the program. Smith from Massachusetts and Sellstone from Minnesota carried the water for the opposition. Chairman Richter could be expected to buffer the two of them by lobbing a few softballs of his own. If she had a friend out there it would be the congressman from south Florida sitting in the chairman’s chair.

***

"Miss Rayhied," began the congressman from Massachusetts, "in this era of economic contrasts, where school children often don’t have a lunch to eat and the elderly can’t afford the medicine they need because they’ve reached their Medicare limits, how can you ask this government to lay out billions of dollars for a couple of fancy antennas?"

"Certainly, when you put it like that," Julia countered, "it appears preposterous doesn’t it?" She smiled patiently as the congressman beamed with self-satisfaction. "But that is an intellectually dishonest statement and you know it, sir."

The assembled crowd erupted with a combination of laughter and cheers. A flurry of flash bulbs prompted to Chairman Richter hold up his hand, which muted the din. It was going to be a duel, a battle of wits. Julia’s first jab landed solidly.

"I beg your pardon," Smith said wryly, "I’m not sure if you’re insulting my intelligence or my honesty, mam. Frankly, I don’t want to know. The truth is that this country made a moral decision years ago not arm space. I for one am not going to be fooled by the supposition that Array would be used as merely a tool of science. It’s designers work for the military..."

"If I may," Julia interrupted, "the designers of the pyramids were morticians. Does that make the pyramids any less spectacular? That kind of logic is irrelevant to the debate. This is not about the military. This is not about petty politicking. This is about finding out the truth. Who or what is behind these baffling UFO sightings? This is about answering the eternal question. Are we unique in the universe? Everything we are as a race hangs in the balance. I think it’s time we made a moral decision to tell the truth!" Again, the hall erupted in cheers and whistles. This time Chairman Richter did nothing.

When finally it died down Senator Sellstone asked to be recognized. "Mr. Chairman, may I have the floor?"

Richter held up his hand and with a nod from the congressman from Massachusetts he declared, "Chair recognizes the honorable gentleman from Minnesota."

"Thank you Mr. Chairman," he said wryly as he turned toward Julia. "Miss Rayhied, first, let me tell how much a pleasure it is to have you here today. We haven’t had this much excitement here since...since... I don’t believe we’ve ever had this much excitement..." he waited for laughter that never materialized. "Anyway... What you said about making the moral decision to tell the truth strikes a chord with me. Around here it seems the truth is in short supply. I think in our zeal to embrace every new technology, no matter what the cost, we run the risk of choosing one set of morals over another. A few years back we struck down a plan to build a multi-billion dollar super-collider in Texas. The scientists told us it was the only way to advance the leading edge of quantum physics. Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t go to bed at night worrying about the space between the electrons of an atom. But, I do worry about the hungry children going to bed at night with an empty stomach because the local food shelf lost it’s federal funding and couldn’t maintain it’s lease. Whose morals will you choose, Miss Rayhied? Lining the pockets of defense contractors or filling the bellies of innocent children."

She had expected it to get down to this. They wasted no time in trotting out the hungry children. She was ready for them. "I’m glad you brought that up, Senator. Let the honesty begin here, shall we? You know and I know that if we built the Array, if we built ten of them, not one child in this country would miss a meal because of it. The money spent here would not be taken out of the funds slotted for the welfare and well being of the least in our society. Let us take them out of the picture right now. Let’s get down to the real reason you and people like Representative Smith oppose this. The reason you oppose funding on any new technology is because you cannot control the outcome of the enterprise. With social spending you can control the fate of millions. In the process never offering them anything more than a bare bones subsistence. You shift the blame for their situation on the greed and thoughtlessness of the successful and hardworking. In a sense, telling the poor they are nothing without the generosity of the government."

"Now wait a minute..." the startled congressman interrupted.

"I’m not finished, sir." Julia shot back. The audience gasped. "Let me be the first to tell you that they are not at all grateful, they resent you. Your kind of compassion holds them down. And what does it teach the dear children you seem to care so much about? What they see is what they get. And what they see is a system where all they have to do is NOTHING. The government will come along and take care of them. The sooner they learn that life is hard and that to get ahead you must work and educate themselves the better this whole world will be."

This time the audience and half the members of the committee stood and cheered. Blinded by a barrage of flash bulbs Chairman Richter raised his hands and his voice in an effort to restore order. "Ladies and gentlemen, please hold it down," he yelled above the roar. That having no apparent effect he was forced to raise it to the next level. Banging an empty pitcher of water on the rostrum, he gathered everyone’s attention. "I will clear this room..." he looked in the direction of the media pit, "we will conduct ourselves in a civilized manner!" When everyone was sitting again he turned to Senator Sellstone, "do you have anything further?"

"Actually, I’d like Miss Rayhied to answer my question. Let me repeat the question in case you forgot it during your fine speech. In a moral sense which would you choose, Miss Rayhied? Unending expenditures on military gizmos and scientific ventures, both with track records for dubious results, or real support for real people stuck in the cracks of this free market society?"

"You talk about support as if it comes in only one flavor," Julia began, "instead of lifting people out you would mire them and everyone else down. Senator, opportunity is the flavor I choose. This great government can and should take the leading role in promoting equality of opportunity. And not by bringing every one down to the same level. But by setting the standards by which we all can compete and succeed. This doesn't mean we should continue to make sweetheart deals with undeserving industries anymore than we should perpetuate public laziness with endless handouts. Rather we should be setting good examples by fostering good behavior and good citizenship. Simple things really, like fixing broken windows, painting bridges, and creating a sense of real safety for the public. And by building things that promote and provide opportunities. I site the railroads, air traffic control, the interstate highway system, electrification of the countryside, yes, even a war machine that turned back the nazi’s and the communist’s. This government, this society, yes, this free market society, succeeded in putting a man on the moon..." she paused as Senator Sellstone arrogantly rolled his eyes.

"Miss Rayhied," he interjected sharply, "tell me your not equating this Global Array to Jack Kennedy’s challenge to this nation."

"I think President Kennedy understood the importance of the final frontier. Congressman, in case you haven’t noticed, something is going on in the skies above us. I think this has gone beyond left and right politics and into the realm of national security. We owe it to the nation and the world to get to the bottom of this, now." When she was finished the room fell silent. For the first time in his life Senator Sellstone had nothing to say. Julia Rayhied had said it all.

***

They identified themselves as only agents of the Secret Service as they whisked her away from the hearing room down a long, dark hallway and into some sort of waiting room. For five minutes she was completely alone. Even Mr. Brown, who had not left her side since the hotel, was gone. When he returned he came in with a woman carrying some kind of instrument in her hand. Without speaking a word the woman waved the instrument over Julia’s body. Then, just as abruptly, the woman left.

Mr. Brown turned toward the open door. "We’re good," he shouted. No less than ten men entered the room. They each carried with them a piece of furniture or a prop. In the blink of an eye the room was transformed into a fine tearoom. "Please sit down, Julia."

"What’s going on?"

"We’re going to have a visitor."

Finally two men, each carrying a flag, entered the room. They placed the flags behind the dainty little table and chairs and left. Mr. Brown left immediately behind them. Again, she was alone. She reached over and felt the side of the teapot. It was cold. When she looked up she was staring into the face of the President of the United States. She shot up from the chair and thrust her hand out. "Mrs. President, I’m sorry."

"Nonsense, dear," Liberty Cole said apologetically. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, Julia. You did a fine job out there. I thank you for your service to the nation." The president promptly sat down and motioned to a member of her staff.

Suddenly the room was filled with reporters and photographers. Blinded by the flashes Julia just smiled and nodded as the president took questions from the reporters. She didn’t realize at first when a question was directed toward her. "I think I can answer that for Miss Rayhied," Libby Cole offered, "the plan to fund the SETI program goes back to campaign. I dare say we didn’t realize the kind of opposition we would face from our friends on the other side of the isle."
"I really can’t speak to that," Julia added timidly, "my role at S.E.T.I. is in media relations. I have absolutely nothing to do with finance." More flashes. In the confusion all she could do was smile.

The whole thing was over faster than it started. The president was gone the instant the last reporter left the room. Julia looked up at Mr. Brown and shrugged. "What was that all about?"
"Photo op," he replied glibly. "Now, what do you say to an offer of a drink and a toast?"
She smiled. "I think I’d like that."

***

It was called The Romper Room. The club only allowed certain government employees. It was for the people who shouldn’t be seen in normal public places. Every dark suit in Washington was there. She had never seen anything like it.

"Why do they call it The Romper Room?" she asked him innocently.

"Well, back in the sixties when this place opened up there was a kid show on TV called Romper Room. They had a little mirror with no glass in it and they would point it at the camera at the end of the show and say; I see Susan and Johnny out there and I see Mark and Karen..."

"I don’t get it."

Mr. Brown tilted his head toward a group of people at the table next to theirs and whispered in her ear, "CIA, FBI, Secret Service..."

"Ooh," she blurted. "Sometimes I’m a little slow on the uptake." Just then their server arrived with their drinks. She set four glasses on the table in front of them. "Did you order two rounds?" Julia asked him.

"No, I didn’t, " he replied as he looked quizzically at the server.

"No, he’s right, but a nice gentleman over there offered to buy you a round. He sent this note." She handed the note to Julia.

As she read the note the paper began to shake in her hand. "Oh my God!"

"What’s wrong, Julia?" Mr. Brown snapped.

"He’s here!"

Chapter 3

2004-12-26T09:26:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER THREE

Jarred from another night of dreamless sleep, Livvevea scrambled from the floatbed fully alert. Snatching the screeching portacon from the side table, she giggled with delight. Incredibly, the soft link she'd embedded between Sollalia’s console and her portacon worked. Smiling inside and out she listened to Dakkalia's message and stopped dead.

She never wanted anything more in her life than for this day to come, but when she should’ve been feeling the lightness of joy, the tingle of anticipation, she was instead alarmed and confused. Something was wrong, very wrong. She knew not what to expect, but the cryptic parable that echoed in her brain wasn't it...

Once a great one came upon a curiosity. If he touched it, he could destroy it. If it touched him he might be poisoned. The young one came upon a terror. If he touched it he would be destroyed by it. If it touched the him, then all will be destroyed by it...

Just as he had done on all his previous missions Dakkalia planned to contact his father by burying an encoded micro-transmission in the hyper-noise generated when a jumpship snaps the sub-light barrier. With this little trick he was able to slip a short message by Galactic’s monitoring station on Dass. It was as much a game as anything; a prank pulled merely because it was possible.

Plucking the transmission out of the sky was risky indeed, carrying ramifications not confined to her own undoing. Her position as Soll’s first assistant was on the line, as was Dakk’s good standing as a frontier surveyor. A jumpship pilot’s behavior was already scrutinized, if he were to be implicated in any such mischief he would be reassigned to an analysis team. As for Soll, there was no telling what it would do to empower his political enemies. The law was clear: a returning surveyor was prohibited from contacting anyone before debriefing was complete. His data, his mind, even his body belonged to Galactic Mining and Mapping. The age-old agreement it shared with the Orrian High Council hinged on this one simple, rigid stipulation: the rewards of deep space exploration went to the risk takers. The High Council reaped it’s own rewards from the mountains of scientific knowledge Galactic’s pilots faithfully gathered. Still, breaking the trust was a risk all three seemed willing to take.

She did not sleep again, waiting patiently until dawn. As the first rays of the sun pierced the gloom she could wait no longer. She tried contacting Soll but he didn't answer. His console wasn’t even responding, as if it wasn’t accepting incoming calls. She had no luck raising his portacon either. While it was perfectly conceivable that the portacon might have been shut off one’s commconsole was never down. None of it made sense. She sighed. She now had two men in her life to worry about.

She dressed hastily, ordering a Network transporter as she pulled a favorite old tunic over her head. Moments later as she whisked a brush through her rich black hair, the portacon sounder announced a waiting transporter perched on her welcome pad fifty stories above the city. In the heart of Terrekka’s City one never waited long for transportation.

Nestled in the rugged foothills of Terrekka’s plateau, where the deep jungle began, Soll's sheltertree was like a monument. Having raised it from a sprout Soll was understandably proud of it. She liked being there. It was there she met Dakkalia. It was there she fell in love.

Mercifully, it was a short trip. The transporter, as if sensing her urgency, seemed to fly faster than usual - matching the speed of her worry. She wondered again if he was all right.
He had been acting so peculiarly. Yes, she heard all the rumors again and again; everyone in the city was talking about him. 'Something was going on between Sollalia and that Earth woman'…

His flesh and bones had not been seen gracing the corridors of the council building for many, many months. A few hologram appearances aside, his absence only fueled the wild speculation. She worried about him constantly.

As for his son, the one she loved, her lonely heart only ached. It had been a very long wait. Every day for eight months she checked the log at Galactic’s station on Dass to see if his registered breakout point had been tripped. Every day the answer was the same. And every day she would privately mourn. Their secret love demanded it. He was eight agonizing months past the return date. Cursed return dates… Return dates were entirely equivocal and therefore literally meaningless; everyone understood that. Light trippers were time travelers and a due date was merely a delusional source of comfort for the pilots and their loved ones.

The transporter descended to treetop level as it approached Soll’s land. Her work for Soll brought her into the dark of Terrekka’s jungle often enough that she knew the way by heart. She now studied the landscape with keen interest, each familiar landmark a reassuring signpost.

It was raining steadily when she arrived at the huge moss covered tree. She moved quickly once inside the welcome room. The constant patter of the rain hid the sound of her footsteps. The commchamber was closed and energized. She was certain to find some answers behind that door. She shut down the grid and watched impatiently as the hologram faded only to see Soll’s lifeless body materialize before her eyes. Her heart jumped madly as she dashed inside. A moment of sheer panic ended with a heavy, relieving sigh. He was sleeping. The poor man, she thought, didn’t even have the energy to climb into the floatbed.

As she went to nudge his shoulder something in the holotank caught her eye and stopped her cold. She turned to face the suspended image of Julia Rayhied, the American television star everybody in the city was talking about. Her resemblance to Soll’s Teffiona was really uncanny. Like Teffiona, her beauty was magnetic. Poor Soll, she thought shaking her head, must have been powerless to resist this one.

He stirred. She held motionless; her breathing stopped somewhere in her throat. He shifted restlessly in the chair and finally after some adjustments settled in again. Breathing shallow, she reached over him for the controller. Finding no response from his console she looked in bewilderment at the flat screen. What was this? Soll was in the middle of writing something. On the screen was a correspondence of some sort. A letter, perhaps. She promptly transferred the voice response back to the controller and set it to playback and began to read...
..........................................................................................

Dear Julia,
My name is Sollalia. I wish to extend to you my warmest greetings. This letter comes to you from a place you’ve never heard of. A place far away, farther than the eye can see. It is my sincere hope that someday you will be able to visit me here, and that I can come and visit you. Since that is impossible right now, for reasons that you’ll soon understand, I’d like to tell you a little story...
Once a young man was intently carrying out his duties as a surveyor of star systems. He was charged with mapping and adding new star systems to the Star Catalog. On one of these missions something extraordinary happened to him. Historic really. Please, let me explain...

On that particular day, a day like any other, the hours of sensor sweeps dragged on, one yellow dwarf looked like any other after a while. Being a survey pilot was more often than not a dreadfully dull endeavor. This particular star was not especially noteworthy. It had three planets, not one of them interesting beyond the mundane novelty of being named in his honor. He cursed his luck for the 21st time.

Suddenly an alarm sounded! The anomaly was confined to a narrow band of the spectrum. Simple radio signals! When he dialed in the audible frequencies he heard something he had not heard since he left home. He heard voices. It was a language he had never heard before but the tone and the cadence was not unlike the delivery of his own spoken words. On several frequency bands he heard music - lively, tempo driven music. The voices made no sense to him but the language of music was loud and clear. It was a throbbing beacon in the silence of space.

The radio signals emanated from a nearby yellow dwarf system. Thousands of years of interstellar exploration and this was first event of it’s kind. Clearly, there was no precedent to act as a guide. A field decision had to made. He would move in slowly under pulse power with his eyes and ears wide open.

What he came upon was a beautiful, shining blue orb circled by one large pockmarked moon. Incredibly, intelligent beings on the planet had developed the means to generate and modulate powerful radio waves. Eager to learn all he could he took up orbit around the planet and opened his sensor array.

Julia, nothing could have prepared him for what he found that day. Shock would not adequately describe his reaction. I can scarcely imagine what it must’ve been like to see the look on his face when he realized he’d discovered that billions of human beings were living and thriving there. Shock? Why shock? Because he is human too. As human as you are. Indeed, he has two eyes; two ears a nose and a mouth. He has ten fingers and ten toes attached to his four limbs. Gender aside, an anatomy very nearly identical to your own. The difference being, of course, he comes from a planet thousands of light years away from you.

How this could be has become the greatest mystery of all time.

This, my friend, leads us to the little secret your government has been keeping from you all these years. An unfortunate incident happened in 1947 in New Mexico. It was reported on in the papers at the time but was quickly and quietly buried. It has become the stuff of folklore all over the world. Only, it really did happen. A small shuttlecraft that was used to carry artifacts to ships in high orbit crashed in the desert near Roswell New Mexico. The American army recovered three human bodies. In reality it would’ve been far easier for American authorities if they had found hideous, alien beasts; at least then they would’ve know what the invaders looked like. The very idea that the aliens responsible for the UFO phenomenon were actually human beings made it even more imperative that the secret be perpetuated. How could something like this be explained to the American people? To the world? Who were these people? Star travelers? Time travelers from your own future? Could it be Soviet super technology? The pieces of the recovered ship belied any notion such as that. The recovered wreckage represented a level of technology the best engineers could not comprehend. Clearly, no one on Earth possessed such advanced materials and techniques. Generally speaking, the American government’s reaction was perfectly reasonable.

You would ask: what of the people of my home world? What were we to think? The mere conjecture that human life could spring up independently of Orr would have been ruled a complete absurdity. Yet, here, thirty thousand light years from the galactic core, existed a planet inhabited by billions of human beings. Seemingly primitive, yes, but completely human in every regard.

As I’m sure you can imagine by your own feelings right now when this news reached the home world, a planet we call Orr, pandemonium set in. It was almost more than the collective Orrian psyche could bear. It led to the obvious question: were there more human worlds out there? Did the creator have his children spread out all over the universe?

Understanding the American government’s reason for a blanket of secrecy is easy. But you must be asking yourself why a people as advanced as the Orrians would feel the need to hide themselves from the primitives. One word: contamination. Not from disease, not from the plague, it was nothing like that. What we most feared was cultural contamination. It was plain to see that the rule of force and violence governed the Earth.

Keep in mind that not all Orrians believed in the permanency of that hypothesis. It is a common fact that one’s environment helps shape one’s behavior. The Earth, with all its beauty and abundance is a brutal place. Yours is a planet where oceans, mountains, and vast stretches of uninhabitable land separate the people from each other. Yours is world where violent weather and earthquakes can destroy entire cities in the blink of an eye. A place where pestilence and disease seem to kill at will. There were many of us who saw a people we could help. Indeed, a people we should help. The history of human agony on Earth both horrified and saddened us. Surely, there was a way we could help put a stop to all the suffering and the senseless wasting of human potential. We were dreamers. Perhaps it was unrealistic to think we had all the answers. We were young and impetuous and we believed it was the right thing to do.

It was the year 1938 when our hero stumbled across Earth. By the end of 1939 the last of the preliminary expeditions to the mysterious blue planet ended. Decisions would soon be made as to whether to declare our existence or retain our anonymity. It did not look good for our side. Need I remind you of the state of your world in 1939?

Hitler’s Germany had amassed all the might of its industrial economy into a tremendous war machine. On the other side of the world Imperial Japan mercilessly carved up its neighbors. Meanwhile, in Russia, Stalin brutalized his own countrymen, starving millions, murdering millions more. China was on the brink of chaos. An economic depression and drought that devastated the United States challenged the perception that it even belonged within the world power structure. In short, the world was on a collision course with itself.

When war broke out in Europe Earth was declared off limits. A standard compliment of satellites were to be placed in orbit not only to monitor the planet, but also to detect Orrian ships. As you might imagine, artifacts from Earth are extremely valuable on Orr. Marketeers were often tracked down and punished, but the lure of Earth was too great. To possess something crafted by the human hands of an Earthling was to possess a treasure. Many risked their lives collecting treasures during the war.

For six years we watched events unfold that stretched our capacity to comprehend. From the gas chambers in Europe to the torture chambers in the Pacific, we witnessed the most brutal episode in all of human history. It sickened the gentle people of Orr to see such slaughter. These barbarians could not be the brothers and sisters some had hoped they were.

Still, there were those who saw the good in the people we so callously labeled the 'primitives'. They wanted to help bring a stop to the war and end the wanton slaughter. No one really knows if they were successful before they were finally caught. You can decide for yourself… I must say, we were all quite impressed by the decisive victory shared by the Allied powers over the German and Japanese regimes. The level of American technological development toward the end of the war was rather remarkable, wouldn’t you say?

In the Earth year 1950, the ‘Earth Doctrine’ was drafted. The doctrine was a permanent ban on all expeditions to the planet Earth. It was deemed that nothing good could come from an association with the barbaric people of Earth. They were to be left alone to develop on their own. Perhaps someday, the primitives would become civilized enough to consider rescinding the order.

So Julia, that brings us to today. As a people, as a culture we have become completely obsessed with your world. In a sense, our culture did not survive. All our moral indignation was meaningless. In the end the precious culture we sought to protect was thoroughly invaded by yours. Your art, your music, your history, all of which is far richer than anything that has happened on Orr for a hundred of centuries. It blares at us from all corners of the globe. We know more about you than you know about yourself. It is amazing, really. It's like watching fish in a bowl whose existence is more interesting than your own.

I realize all this leaves you with one rather large unanswered question. By now you must now be wondering about the UFO’s. You are asking yourself 'if traveling to Earth is illegal then where are the UFO’s coming from?' Well, this is where I make my confession to you. I am responsible for them. All of them. All the strange lights in the night sky. All the close encounters with pilots and astronauts. All the crop circles and lightning balls. All of it. Me. When I was a young man I simply could not accept the Earth Doctrine. I was clever and full of idealism. I set out to force the Orrian High Council into changing the law. They had a name for me; they called me the Renegade. In my most defiant act I zealously seeded your atmosphere with thousands of drones. Designed to be completely undetectable until activated these time-delayed drones carried out their missions for decades. Ultimately it was a failure and I now regret my ill-considered actions. The drones, unfortunately, could not be recalled. I hope someday that I will be forgiven. I never intended to hurt anyone.

That is my little story. Every word of it is true. I’m telling you, but I don’t exactly know why. Maybe it’s because you seek the answer so completely. I feel I am responsible for your life’s work and now it is up to me to make your work bear fruit. The proof is in this disk. If you examine it, you will see it comes from a manufacturer on Earth known as Maxell. You must understand that the Earth Doctrine is the law but it doesn’t mean that a few crafty marketeers can’t get through once and a while. Earth artifacts are always in high demand. This would be the proof that we have been there, on Earth. The program that resides on the disk, like nothing you have ever seen, proves the advanced state of our technology.

Try it, Julia. Ask me anything.

Sincerely,
Sollalia
...............................................................................

Livvevea was stunned. She was frozen in place, her mind barely registering the moment. Sollalia was the Renegade! Was it even possible? She had heard the stories they used to tell about his impetuous youth. No one ever really believed them. They were just stories… It was simply beyond imagination.

Looking down on Soll’s motionless body and then at the unwavering image of Julia Rayhied in the holotank, she sighed. ‘Soll, you old fool’, she thought, why did you have to go and complicate things. It was bad enough that her own love affair had to be hidden from the prying eyes of ‘the mining’. This affair had to be hidden from the entire world. It was now clear why Soll removed his console from the public Wave last night. If this letter was ever discovered it would be the end of his political ambitions. A brilliant man would be reduced to irrelevance. The world would surely suffer from the loss. But would Soll? From the looks of it he really didn’t care anymore, maybe his career was already over.

Soll moved. Livv slipped silently out of the room and re-energized the door. From the corridor she spoke with ample volume to wake him, "Soll? Are you in there? It’s me, Livv."

The door blipped out and Soll stood in front of her rubbing his day old beard and smiling.

She smiled back. "Rough night?"

"I really must have lost track of time."

"I tried to reach you this morning. Your console didn’t respond. I got worried."

"I took it off the public wave," he admitted simply.

"You what?"

"I was working on something. I didn’t want any prying eyes… It’s really not important." He stretched and yawned. "You could have call on the private."

"That's only for emergencies, you would have killed me? "

"Yes, actually, I would, I'm waiting for Dakk like everybody else and the last thing I want to hear is an emergency sounder."

Livv snapped to attention. Then Soll didn’t even know! He slept right through the message! Dakk’s transmission was held in the comconsole's buffer but the idled public channel never alerted him. Soll didn’t know Dakk was coming home, and worse, she couldn’t tell him. She swept right past him and laid her hands on the controller with blinding speed.

"We’d better check the buffers. You might have missed something..." In a matter seconds the console was back online. "...Yes, here’s my call. And one from Terrekka’s Council’s Secretary of Operations. I wonder what she wants? There are no sessions scheduled... What’s this!" she feigned complete surprise. "A message from the outer solar system. It’s encrypted."

His eyes lit up. "What did you say?"

"It’s from the outer solar system..."

He pushed her aside as he grabbed the controller from her. "It’s Dakk. He’s back." He carefully studied the transmission record. It was tagged with code key only Soll's console could decrypt. "Okay, let’s see what Dakk had to say."

Once a great one came upon a curiosity. If he touched it, he could destroy it. If it touched him he might be poisoned. The young one came upon a terror. If he touched it he would be destroyed by it. If it touched the him, then all will be destroyed by it...

Soll beamed. "He's back!"

"What do you think it means?"

Reveling in the notion that Dakk was coming home Soll seemed to have let the implications of the odd message slip by. "OK," he read it again... "Well, let’s take it apart... A great one came upon a curiosity... The Great One... That's Deppopio," he declared matter of factly. "Dakk’s parables are always built around keywords. Words that we recognize regardless of the context."

"Then ‘a young one’ is referring to Dakk, right?"

"That's the parallel I would draw."

"What does he mean by ‘a terror'?" She saw a momentarily twitch, his eyes dropped to the floor.

"What?" she pleaded. "What is it, Soll? What does it mean?"

"I can’t be sure, of course, but if look at the first phrase he clearly spells out the curiosity of Depp finding the Earth. This reference to poison... You tell me, Livv, what would make Earth a terror rather than a curiosity?"

Livv looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Well, if they had their own lightdrive technology... "

"Precisely!"

"Oh my, you don’t think..."

Just then the console chimed with an incoming call. The caller was Passidda, Terrekka's Council Oversecretary of Operations. Soll looked at Livv and shrugged and put Passidda on the holotank viewer, erasing Julia Rayhied's image grateful that Livv had not asked...

"Good day, Madam Secretary," Soll said cheerfully, "You look lovely this morning. What can I do for you?"

Passidda blushed. "Soll, it’s good to see the real you. You don't usually don't take my calls, this is a surprise. We’d sure like to see more of you around here."

Soll dropped his eyes and said nothing. His absence from civilization was becoming legend. He looked up and smiled, "What’s your pleasure, this morning?"

"Your console didn’t respond to our general announcement earlier this morning. Can we assume you’ll be attending today’s emergency session?"

He looked at Livv, bewildered; "Did you know about this?"

"I did not," she replied. She looked at her portacon only to see the announcement.

"I think I smell Sebbreba’s work here..." he whispered. "What emergency?"

"Last night a returning Galactic pilot sent out a distress signal picked up around the world. They're saying he’s discovered more human worlds."

Livv’s heart sank. Something went wrong. The link was corrupted. She collapsed into the chair. Soll’s eyes darted back and forth between the holotank and the young woman’s slouching body. "Livv, is everything okay?" Her sullen eyes were fixed on the floor refusing to look up at him.

"I’m so sorry, Soll," she whispered, trying desperately to hold back her sobs.

He turned back to Passidda, "Thank you for the message, Pass my dear, we will be there." With a flick of his wrist the holotank went blank. Soll put his hands on Livv’s cheeks and forced her to look at him. He could feel the wet of her tears as he brushed the hair from her eyes. "Okay, Livv, let’s have it."

What could she say? Everything was ruined. Her career was finished and Dakk’s place in the mining would be pulled. What could she tell him? The man had been like a father to her. His political enemies were probably already lining up outside the door. She sobbed "I’m so sorry, Soll. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen."

"What did you do?"

"I just wanted to know when Dakk was coming home." She frowned. "I guess I can tell you - what difference does it make now? Dakk and I are in love." Soll smiled and lowered his hands to her shoulders.

"I know. I’ve known for a while. Not to worry, your secret is safe with me. Now, tell me what you did."

"I constructed a soft link between your console and my portacon. But I swear Soll, I was so careful... I don’t understand what went wrong."

"Larrvino..." Soll said, his voice trailing off. He began to pace the length of the room.

Raising her head from the cradle of her hands Livv said, "What are you talking about? I did this."

He didn’t answer her right away. His eyes danced back and forth as if watching a bouncing ball. "He’s probably had his own tap on your portacon since the day you came to work for me. It was just dumb luck that he intercepted the transmission."

"But Passidda said the message was picked up all over the world."

"That’s right, indeed it was, because it was retransmitted by him."

"What’s going to happen? I mean... Am I done? Are you going to throw me out?"

"Nonsense. There’s a council session today, remember. I’m going to need you there."

"I don’t understand," she said looking up at him with red eyes. "Aren’t we all in trouble?"

"Relax. The only one in trouble here is Dakk himself. Listen, Larrvino isn’t going to tell anyone how he got it. If he implicated you or me, he’d have to disclose how he came by the knowledge. I know Larr and he isn’t about to do that. He knows tampering with the Wave is serious. No one is going to admit to doing that."

He took her by the arm and walked her to the welcome room. The rain had subsided, a reprieve until the next wave of clouds blew by. "Now, this is what’s going to happen. First, you’re going back to the city and get cleaned up. Second, you are to meet me at the council building, and I’ll need everything you can get on the subject of "invading forces" from High Council’s annual Scenario Committee. Then, afterward we’ll talk all about this. And Livv, for your peace of mind, your job is safe." He smiled earnestly, and said, "love, my dear, is punishment enough." She put her arms around him and squeezed. He felt a shudder of relief in her grip. She began to cry. "I know, I know," he said comforting her. "I love him too."

***

As the transporter banked slowly toward the Great Hall, Soll caught a fleeting glimpse of Terrekka’s Ancient City. Whenever he saw the birthplace of Orrian civilization his heart began to pound a little harder. On one end of town Terrekka's sheltertree stood perfectly preserved through ages. In the center of town was the original Great Hall she had commissioned but never saw completed. Standing tall and strong three hundred centuries later it still inspired awe. In its time it was considered the very center of the world. This scared place is where Terrekka, often called the mother of civilization, left her teachings and wondrous stories as a guide for all the tribes of Orr.

As the transporter finished the turn Soll moved to the other side of the cabin and peered through the transparent hull for one last look at the city that the ‘mother of civilization’ had built. He was resigned to the fact that he may be only one in the city today who even bothered give Terrekka a second thought.

Traffic was unusually heavy over the welcome pad. Transporters large and small zipped in and out of view. To a casual observer it might even appear chaotic. But the Network was seamless, like a flock of birds weaving and diving in perfect syncopation; no two transporters could ever occupy the same space at the same time.

Presently there would be reporters down there, he reminded himself with a sigh. He could already feel the cacophony of their incessant questioning. What was he supposed to tell them? Nothing he could say would satisfy them anyway. His only hope was that the Network set him down on a pad near the entrance. Once inside the building protocol required a certain decorum be observed by all parties.

From the air it looked like a swarm of tid flies were buzzing back and forth on the welcome landing. As each transporter settled on a pad the horde of holowave reporters with their little monocle camera’s blinking away engulfed the unsuspecting soul, desperately grasping for a quote they could wrest from anyone who seemed even remotely important.

The main body of the swarm was on the far end of the landing when his transporter set down near the welcome foyer. He smiled inwardly. This might actually work. He would be safely inside the Great Hall before the swarm even caught wind of him. The door of the transporter popped open. The game was on.

The circular ramp provided a panoramic view of the entire landing as he wound his way down from the elevated pad. The situation was positive. The buzz could be heard but it was still a long way off. Walking with a sense of purpose he strode toward the open doors unhindered. Feeling triumphant as he approached the point of demarcation, he began to look around. First he looked left, then right, and left again. As he swung his head around the third time he caught only a glimpse of the impending collision. The person’s slight body flew violently to the ground as Soll looked on utterly horrified. Instinctively he reached out to offer a hand up when he saw the familiar face of young Gellseno staring back at him.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” Gell bellowed. “Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Soll smiled broadly as he pulled the boy up to his feet. “Shouldn't I be asking you that question?”

“Oh no, don’t worry about me...” just then the swarm overtook them. Gell felt himself being pummeled, brushed away like a hapless branch hanging across the path. He was torn from Soll by a mass of moving bodies. “It’s Sollalia, over here! “ one of them yelled. “We’ve got him!” said another. Gell slipped away, escaping the fury of the swarm and finding himself wondering if Soll would ever do the same.

He absently walked away. Alone in the shadows he watched the hungry swarm move steadily toward the welcome foyer. Soll was engulfed by a crowd near hyterics. Above Gell's head a transporter silently came to rest on a pad. There was a slight discharge as the anti-matter field collapsed; the hair on the back of his neck was left standing on end. There was no explaining it, but he was not surprised to see Larrvino standing in the open door, beckoning to him.

He scrambled up the ramp only to find Larr doubled over, belly laughing, inside the cabin. Gell looked at him curiously, his brow deeply furrowed.

“What?”

“I did not realize you were such an accomplished secret agent." Larr chortled. "What would they called you on Earth? Agent 007...”

Gell said nothing. Let Larr have his laughs, he thought. The day would come when it would be Gellseno doing the laughing.

Oblivious to Gell’s simmering anger Larr continued. “Are you sure that’s the most effective way to put a tail on someone?”

“All right Larr,” Gell said with teeth clenched. “Enough... Obviously, you didn’t see my hand go in his pocket for the disk…”

“Ah… Indeed. Where is it?” Larr replied tonelessly. Gell looked down. “You didn’t get it, did you? I thought you were a bright young man... I was wrong. If you were bright you would have put a copying relay on that thing.”

“Wrong,” the boy said sharply. Larr was momentarily taken aback by the tone. “What do you take him for? He’d spot something as feeble as that. Just leave it to me. You’ll get the disk.” He paused. He looked at Larr closely, enough to make Larr uncomfortably aware of it. “Why do you hate him so much?” he asked.

“Hate who?” Larr replied with mock sincerity.

“Sollalia. Who else? What has he done to you?”

“It’s not Soll that I hate,” Larr said carefully, “It’s your precious Earth. It’s always been Earth. Can’t you see how it’s destroying us? No, I guess you can’t. You’ll never understand. How could you? Always filling your head with that garbage, that bilge they put on the airwaves. Tell me Gell, can you even remember the last great Orrian song, the last great Orrian performance? When was the last time you played any tree sports? Or read from the Book of Terrekka. Our history did not start the day Deppopio picked up those radio signals. You go to that Institute every day to study them like rats in a cage. Only you have become nothing more than rats yourself. It’s disgusting...” his voice trailed off with a calculated note of despair.

The boy remained silent as the words of hate echoed painlessly inside his head. Larr was wrong about Earth, he thought. He was convinced in his own mind that the fate of Orr was inexorably tied to the very people Larr despised so completely. But this was neither the time nor the place to try to convince him of that. Distracted by the ceaseless activity on the welcome landing he turned away from Larr’s scowling face and smiled inwardly, it was going to be a very interesting day, very interesting indeed.

***
Soll looked out over the assembled audience. There had not been anything like it since the day Deppopio first returned from Earth. Then, as now, the Great Hall was brimming with anxious people spreading rumors as fast as their lips could repeat them. Despite his being very young at the time, the memories of that day were as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. This time, however, there was a different element; one had not been present many years ago. There was a collective uneasiness mingled among the subdued conversations, hiding behind the pleasantries and smiles, bubbling up in raised voices and nervous laughter. This time the chill of fear lingered the air.

Soll scanned the ready room. As he expected the lovely Sebbreba was nowhere to be found. She knew better than to show her face around him after pulling a stunt like this. Passidda moved busily about the room prodding the council members to assume their positions on the stage. By tradition the High Chair was last to be seated. Only when each of the eighteen chairs that formed a semi-circle around the lone elevated chair were occupied would she escort him onto the stage.

Passidda, with all the formality the event required, satisfied that everything was finally in place, took his arm and led him into the spotlight. He hesitated at first, convinced that more than one chair remained empty. Passidda frowned as she tugged on his arm.

"It’s time, Soll," she said, coaxing him into the light, where the cheers in his honor had already begun.

"But..."

"It’s all right, she’s there."

Soll spun toward the stage to see the beautiful antagonist smiling back at him from the chair next to his. Sebbreba, his nemesis, the proverbial thorn in his side, knowing the displeasure this whole affair was causing him was immune to his scorn. She knew him all too well. Sometimes he thought she knew him better than he knew himself.

Sebb had been Teffiona’s best friend. She remained very close to Soll after the accident, never betraying her memory by using her intimate knowledge of his private life against him. It would have been easy for Sebb to turn on him. He respected her and in his own way he loved her for it. Friend or not, it was clear that she had become the very heart and soul of the Earth Party. In practice, she was the bitter rival of Sollalia and his Party of Orr.

Soll smiled at her with a note of disapproval. As brilliant as she was beautiful, Sebbreba was early to recognize that the real threat to her agenda was actually the man she was sharing a bed with. From his vantage point Soll could feel the venom in Larrvino’s eyes. Was it primal jealousy or pure hate? He could not tell which. It was an ironic twist when his political ally was more threatening to him than his sworn enemy was. So it was, and so it would be. He had to deal with it. He knew that from this day forward he was entering the fight of his life.

Despite the outward appearance of poise and control he was torn by the image of a beautiful young woman named Julia Rayhied billions of miles away from him. She was so completely unaware of his existence that the whole thing seemed like a school boy’s crush, and felt just as ridiculous. Passidda politely tugged on his arm and finally he let himself be towed onto the stage. He smiled broadly as the spotlight hit him. One must put on appearances.

He stood at center stage the light burning his eyes. The assembled, perhaps twenty thousand inside the Great Hall, and half again as many outside on the strollways and balconies, were cheering with thunder and fury; the sound deafening to his ears. Despite his disappearing act of the last two years he was apparently still as popular as ever. He acknowledged the audience and then turned toward the council and urged them to sit. When the roar had diminished to a din he took his chair. He raised his hands toward the audience to quell the remaining patter and at last the hall fell silent.

"My dear Terrekkans," he began, "I am pleased to see all of you again." He smiled and let them respond. He turned toward Sebb and nodded, "and, of course, I am happy to see my colleagues as well." There was a murmur of approval from the floor. "However, I fail to see the reason we should all be called together at this time. Surely, there is no emergency that would warrant such an occasion. As much as I enjoy these festive gatherings..." the audience let out a collective giggle at the preposterous statement, "what has it been? Two years... Three? Perhaps more, since we’ve had a real council session. To be perfectly honest I really have nothing to say. Let’s look at it this way… What do we really have here?"

He scanned the audience and turned full circle to encompass the council in his mock inquiry. "Rumors mostly. Do we have any facts? No, we do not. Do we have a chance to get the facts before the end of this affair? Again, the answer is no. My point is just this: there is no point in us being here now. In a few days, maybe - we will have something to discuss. For that, my friends, we’ll just have to wait and see."

He turned toward Sebb again, all the while feeling the heat of Larrvino’s glare. The first move was his to make. He had considered his options on the flight over as he poured through the material Livv had sent him. There was little precedent for this type of occurrence. An emergency session at the regional council level was quite rare. A check on the history of Terrekka’s Council showed it had occurred only thirty-six times in the three hundred centuries of its existence. He had never presided over one in his eighteen years as the High Chair. Still, he knew why Sebb had called today’s session. It was her opportunity to "shake the tree", as she was fond of saying and see what fell out. With the Renegade back in action the ongoing resolution to rescind the Earth Doctrine had been gaining momentum all over the world. Two years ago, when last the council met, she was successful in swinging two votes her way. Swaying just two more and she would have the majority and the right to take it to the Supreme High Council in New Pallpoli. Yesterday it would have seemed an impossibility. Today was different; today it might actually happen. As High Chair, he was afforded the right to frame the debate. Anything he would say on the subject would taken apart word by word. It was not his desire to stir that pot. It would seem the only thing to do would be to give her an opportunity to hang herself. He could accomplish that by giving the rope to the man on her right.

He spun in place. "Member Sebbreba, I ask you to channel our discussion today." The audience gasped behind him. He could hear muted gasps from stage as well. After her opening statement the council’s ranking member would start, and hopefully, mercifully crush the debate. Larrvino’s mouth hung open in disbelief. Sebb, startled by the boldness of Soll’s unusual act, was frozen in place. He had accomplished exactly what he wanted to do. He had caught everyone by surprise.

She stood and moved slowly toward the center of the stage, her saunter less confident than usual. As she passed him, she mumbled something he could not quite make out. He sat down, never looking at Larr, but feeling the unmistakable stab of his disapproval.

She paced for a moment, her hand on her chin, her head down. "Today we stand at a turning point," she said with genuine seriousness. "Deep in our hearts we knew it would eventually come to this, only the naive or stubborn among us would deny it. The day Deppopio returned with the news of a world inhabited by human beings we all knew that if there were one out there then the odds dictated that there must be more. The possibility has always existed as we explored the galaxy that we would someday encounter alien beings whose technology would rival or even surpass our own. My dear friends, I fear that day is upon us." She paused, allowing her point to sink in. "We must decide if we are going to run away from it as we have fled from a benign planet like Earth or stand up to it and take our place in our galaxy."

Larr rose to his feet even before she had turned to take to her place next to Soll. "Never in my life have I heard such nonsense," he bellowed. "Our esteemed High Chair could not have said it any better. What proof have we? I find it unconscionable that we would all be dragged down here today to hear such drivel." He looked at Sebb and frowned. "All of this based on what? A silly little parable? For all we know the whole thing is a cruel prank."

Larr’s words were effective but carried a double-edged sword for Soll. Everybody in the building knew it had been his son who had sent the message. The registered break out point assigned to Dakk’s mission was a matter of public record. In fact, the only thing Soll knew for sure was that this was no prank.

"Therefore," Larr continued, "I urge the High Chair to call for an adjournment of this entire unpleasant affair unless someone can offer proof of what she speaks..."

There was only silence and Larr smiled triumphantly. He turned toward Soll and with a flip of his hand motioned his forfeiture of the center stage. Soll stood, not even bothering to move into the spotlight, and raised his hands toward the audience. "A wise and prudent course of action. Thank you, member Larrvino. I call for an immediate adjournment of these proceedings. Do I hear a second?" Several ayes followed from his right. "Objections?"

"Your Excellency?" shouted Veddetti. With a little visual prodding from Sebb he moved into the light. "I request we take a poll of the council on the question of the continuing resolution for the repeal of the Earth Doctrine."

By all rights he had to honor the request. This was all Sebb ever really wanted anyway. She was no fool, she knew there would be no debate, but she had nothing to lose by trying. "Very well, we shall vote. I move that we omit the reading the resolution… Would you all agree?" Everyone nodded in agreement. "I ask all members to vote aye or nay in silence."

The results appeared instantaneously on the poll box suspended overhead. The reaction from the audience was just as sudden. Everyone in the building rose to their feet. The rumble became deafening. She had done it again! The Party of Orr had lost another vote.

None heard Soll call and end to the session. No one saw him slip out the back of the stage.

Chapter 4

2004-12-25T21:22:00.000-08:00

Chapter Four

"Point him out," Mr. Brown barked at the waitress. "Point him out right now!"

"It’s all right, Mr. Brown, please, sit down," Julia pled. "I’m sure it’s nothing." She sighed heavily as the man from the State Department finally sat down and the sea silent faces began to look away. She smiled at the waitress. "Please tell the gentleman we said thank you…"

"You’d better tell me what’s going on," he demanded, "I need to know this kind of shit." His face was stern, his tone even more so. It was the first time she saw him ruffled by anything.

"Well, on the flight from San Francisco I received an in-flight fax from someone named Jerry Baines."

"Who is Jerry Baines? Is this someone you know?"

"Well, no... You see I thought it was Glenn, my boss…

"Glenn Stratton?"

"Yeah, Glenn… I thought he was just playing a little joke on me. It’s just the sort of thing he would do. He was the only one who knew I was on that flight, and besides, I was traveling under an assumed name. The fax was addressed to me as the assumed name. Then, later, when I checked in at the hotel there was another fax from him waiting at the front desk."
"What did it say?"

"He said he wanted to meet me; that he had something to show me."

"Yeah, I’ll bet the creep has something to show you," Mr. Brown mumbled.

"When I got to my room I looked up his company on the Internet. He said he ran some international firm out of Santa Fe... All the while, you realize, I’m thinking this was Glenn pulling a practical joke on me. Well, let me tell you, if this is a joke Glenn went to a lot of trouble to pull it off. Baines International is a billion dollar company."

"Baines International? I know of it."

"Mr. Brown, I'm beginning to think this is no practical joke."

"Well, I think it’s time I paid our Mr. Baines a little visit."

"You’re not going to arrest him are you? I don’t think he’s done anything wrong."

He laughed, having finally calmed down. "Julia, remember, we’re the State Department, we don’t incarcerate people. We have them shot." He watched her startled expression and smiled. "Relax. I’m only joking. I’ll be right back."

She strained to see the man Mr. Brown had gone to visit. The room was far too dark for her to make out his face, however, his profile suggested he was a man of considerable age. They must have talked for quite some time; as she noticed she was already sipping on her second drink.

Presently, Mr. Brown returned to the table. He was smiling. "Sorry I was gone so long."

"You two must have hit it off," Julia replied tonelessly, her eyebrows raised. "So, are you going to have him shot, or what?"

"Very funny. No, actually he is a fascinating old man. He’s perfectly harmless. He claims to be a big fan and just wants to meet you."

"What do think?"

"Like I said, he’s harmless."

"But how did he find me? No one knew about this except Glenn and your people."

"Then your Glenn must have told him because we sure as hell didn’t."

"He wouldn’t do that."

"Don’t be so sure. It seems Mr. Baines is a big contributor to the S.E.T.I. program. Here, check this out." He handed her a piece of paper with a hand written note on it...
........................................................…………

Dear Gerald Baines,
Thank you for your generous contribution. Words cannot describe our unending gratitude for your support over the years. There is no doubt in my mind that without your contributions during the tough times this project would have disappeared altogether. Now that things are better for us financially I can honestly say your latest offering of five hundred thousand dollars has come as a bit of a surprise. All I can say is thank you four hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine more times.
Gratefully yours,
Glenn Stratton

Mountain View CA ............................................................................

"I can’t believe it," Julia exclaimed.

"What?"

"This is Glenn’s handwriting. I’d know it anywhere."

"So, do I go get the poor guy so he can see what his half a million got him?"

"Well, if you think it’s okay I guess it’s all right with me."

"Believe me, you have nothing to worry about."

He waved his arm above his head motioning to Mr. Baines to their table. Julia kept waiting for him to stand up but nothing seemed to happen. In the isle in front of her several people stood up and appeared to be pulling their chairs out of the way of something. Finally out of the smoke and darkness a little old man in a wheel chair rolled up to the table.

"Julia Rayhied, may I present one Mr. Jerry Baines, fan extrordinaire." She looked up at Mr. Brown, her brow furrowed; he saw the question in her eyes... "You never asked."

"Miss Rayhied," Jerry Baines said with a stout and confident voice that belied his frail appearance, "it is truly a pleasure to finally meet you." He held out his hand as she stood to greet him.

"Mr. Baines," she replied quietly.

"We mustn’t be so formal. Please, call me Jerry. I feel I’ve known you for some time. I trust your well?" She nodded. "But first, let me apologize..."

"Apologize? For what?"

"Mr. Brown here said I may have frightened you with the faxes I sent over. Really, I meant no harm."

"Don’t worry about that Mr.. Err... Jerry. It’s just that, well, you know with all the people that I meet one can never be too careful."

"I understand." Baines smiled at her. It was the most genuine smile she had ever seen. She understood how he could have disarmed a hardened government agent like Mr. Brown.

For a moment there was silence at the table. Julia looked at Baines and she saw him motion with his eyes to dismiss Mr. Brown. "Ahh... Mr. Brown," she said not taking her eyes off the old man, "would you excuse us for a moment."

"Certainly. As you wish. For a half million he deserves some quality time alone with you." He smiled and turned to walk away, and then hesitated, "call me if you need anything," he said with a wink.

Baines waited until Mr. Brown was seated at the rail before returning his glance to Julia. "He makes me nervous."

"Oh, I thought you two hit it off."

"Don’t let him fool you honey, he’s a trained killer." He saw the shock in her eyes. "I’m quite serious. Never under estimate the propensity of US government to defend its interests; to the death if necessary."

"Why Mr... I mean Jerry, you sound so cynical. My God, he's with the State Department, not the CIA"

He smiled again. "I have every reason to be cynical. But, now wait, I don’t want to get ahead of myself… I have something I need to show you." He reached under the red plaid blanket that he used to cover his crippled legs and produced a small, shiny object. He slid it across the table to her. She picked it up; surprised that it weighed almost nothing. She examined it closely. It appeared to be some sort of metal alloy. It was tapered at one end, as thin as a sheet of paper yet it would not yield when she tried to bend it with all her strength.

"What is it?"

"Evidence, physical evidence."

"Excuse me."

"You are holding in your hand, my young friend, evidence of the visitors, extraterrestials if you wish. It came from a crash. Believe me, Julia, I’ve had it analyzed by the finest labs in the world, it is what I say it is."

She felt a cold rush. Could it be true, she asked herself. The rush quickly faded and she came back to Earth. They had all been stung by pranks before. Each one preceded by just such a rush. She vowed to keep her cool. Still… It seemed a remarkable material. She chuckled. "Wait, don’t tell me, Roswell, right?"

"As a matter fact it is," Baines replied bluntly, coldly.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Baines but you really had me going for a minute. God, how could I be so gullible? Hasn’t that whole thing been debunked by now? Everyone even remotely involved is dead and not one shred of real evidence was ever produced."

"Until now, that is. This is it, my dear, the smoking gun. I really didn’t expect you'd believe me. Why should you? If a stranger came up to me and told me such things, well, I wouldn’t have believed it either. Except in my case he was no stranger, he was my father."

"What do you mean, your father?"

"He was there at Mac Brazel’s ranch in the New Mexican desert in 1947. He was stationed at the army’s air base at Roswell. He was on the cleanup detail."

"If he was there and saw all this why didn’t he come forward in 1947?"

"Well, actually he did. You can read the story in the Roswell Daily Record. Of course you can read the story of the terrible accident that took the lives of his wife and baby boy and left his six year old son crippled for life in the next days edition." Baines paused as the point sunk in. "You see, Julia, it is very real to me."

"I’m so sorry about your mother and brother. You’re saying that the army was responsible for their deaths?"

"I didn’t know it at the time. In fact, I didn’t learn about it until 1961 when my father died. In his belongings was a key to safety deposit box for a bank in Santa Fe. It was there that I found this," he pointed to the object still in her hand, "and a diary explaining the whole story." For the first time in their conversation he sensed that she was becoming convinced. "I’ve dedicated my life to expose those responsible for this."

Julia was speechless. She had never met a man like him. He appeared sincere. The story was either true or he was the greatest charlatan she had ever met. "What is Baines International, then?" she asked having nothing left to challenge him on.

"We are in the information gathering business. I guess you could call us ‘spies for hire’. Most of our clients are governments who want information on their enemies. Primarily they want military information, but we also research economic forecasts and cultural trends as these can be weapons in their own right. We try to stay clear of corporate espionage. Realistically, it's impossible, the two are really one in the same in the modern post-Cold War era.

I started the company in 1963 with the fifty thousand dollars I inherited from my father's life insurance policy. It has afforded me the ways and means to pursue my life’s purpose."

"And that is?" she asked.

"To expose the governments cover up of the Roswell crash and to avenge the death of my mother and my brother."

She was nearly in tears when finished. How ironic, she thought, he was telling her his life’s bitter story right here in the lion’s den. He was surrounded by agents of the very government that put his family to death and left him to live out the rest of his life in a wheelchair.
"What does all this have to do with me?" she asked quietly, almost apologetically. "Why even tell me any of this? How can I help?"

"I don’t know," he said immediately. "All I know is that from the first time I saw you on television I knew you somehow held the key to the truth. You and your show are on to something. I know it. Everybody knows it. Why do you think the Cole administration brought you here today?"

"For a photo op, actually," she quipped.

"Our lovely President is a politician first but she’s also a pragmatist. There’s a good chance she knows little more than the rest of us. She may be simply be hedging her bets. After all she’s taken a beating in the press over the UFO that landed on the White House lawn. The truth is that presidents come and presidents go but the secret must be kept locked up. Face it, you don’t think they ever told Gerald Ford or Jimmy Carter do you?"

"No, I suppose not," she replied. She looked over to the bar where Mr. Brown was engaged in a conversation with the young server that he had terrorized moments earlier when a question popped into her head. "Jerry, tell me, how do you know Glenn Stratton?"

"I don’t."

She grabbed the note that Mr. Brown had shown her and handed it to him. "What about this?"

"That’s very real," he said matter of factly.

"Then I don’t understand. Do you know him or not?"

"We’ve spoken on the phone a couple of times, I guess. He calls my office whenever I send him a check, but other than that to be honest I don’t really know him."

"Did he tell you where to find me?"

"Now, that part, I really must confess, was a little misleading. You must understand it is my business to know such things."

"My God, your not having me followed!"

"Relax, of course not. There are many ways to track somebody down without following them around like a dirty hood."

She quickly calmed down. Maybe having his people follow her was not be so bad after all. By his own admission he had a stake in her safety and in the success of the S.E.T.I. program. She learned that he and a number of other wealthy individuals had been supporting the program from its inception. Since the S.E.T.I. moniker encompassed a diverse collection of projects and people all around the globe the fact he did not actually know Glenn Stratton was not unreasonable.

Their conversation went on long into the night. He explained that the army went into a panic at Roswell realizing they could never keep the event from becoming the stuff of mass speculation. Quite the contrary actually, they instantly realized that the only way to deflect speculation up was to muddy the waters by creating the controversy themselves. First they issued a report that a flying disk was recovered then quashed the story the very next day. Then they floated bizarre stories and pictures of bodies of little gray alien men with large eyes and large heads. A local Roswell coroner claimed to have ordered small coffins for them. Then there were reports that the bodies were flown to Texas and were seen being unloaded from an army transport plane in Fort Worth. Of course it was officially denied and the wreckage was attributed to weather balloon experiments that were known to have been taking place in California at the time. The flying disk itself was said to be a disk shaped reflector attached to the weather balloon. Any time the controversy seemed to be dying down it was the intelligence arm of the military that poured the fuel on the fire. Later, many decades had passed and an autopsy film was recovered and played on national television. It turned out to be bogus but was enough to thrust the UFO subculture back into the limelight. In 1997, the fiftieth anniversary of the event, the Air Force produced a 230 page document ostensibly closing the case on the Roswell incident by claiming the bodies were actually crash test dummies used in experimental parachute drops known to have taken place in the New Mexican desert. The report, Baines explained was designed to heighten the speculation, further clouding the truth that the bodies were actually human bodies, not alien at all. And that was the secret the government had to keep. It was the fact that the aliens were human that shook the military brass to the core.

"The diary," Julia said softly, "could I see it?"

"I thought you might ask about that." From under his blanket he produced a small leather bound book. "I’ll ask you to guard this with your life, it is obviously a one of a kind. But, I want you to read it. I think it’s vital that you do. When you are done with it just call the number I printed on the inside cover and I will arrange to have it brought back to me. And Julia, please, do not show it to anyone else. I trust you can do this for me."
"You have my word."

***

Sitting in the first class section of a San Francisco bound 787 she couldn’t help but thinking that her life had changed forever. The old man’s mission was now her own. How long had she been wandering about aimlessly, blindly searching for the slightest molecule of the truth? Suddenly, without the slightest indication of it’s arrival she had been handed the mother lode. She chuckled to herself. Life was strange indeed.

Despite the feeling of unbridled excitement she didn’t dare breath a word of it to anybody, not even Glenn, her closest friend, until she had a chance to have it thoroughly analyzed. At the airport she learned something important about Baines’ little object. As she had watched her bag disappear into the x-ray machine at the gate she did not see it’s now familiar shape on the monitor. The alien metal was apparently impervious to x-rays. Chalk one up for Baines.

With the object clutched in her hand and rubbing it as if it were a worry stone she began to read the tattered journal of John Baines. At first most of the entries were foul comments on the mundane life of an enlisted man stationed in the blast furnace they called New Mexico. She skimmed through June and into July before she found anything interesting.

July 2nd
Some of the pilots are saying they’ve been seeing strange things in the sky. Janke says he was being followed by something for twenty minutes and then it shot passed him like he was standing still. He said he almost shit his pants. I don’t know what they think they been seeing but Glenn and I think they been takin’ a flask a hooch up there in them flight suits of theirs.

July 6th
Sarge says were going out into the desert tomorrow to clean up the wreckage of a crash on some guys ranch. None of us heard about a crash, it wasn’t one of ours anyway. Looking forward to scorching my ass. Told Sarge he’d better bring plenty of water and some salt pills or we’ll have guys droppin’ like flies. Sarge seemed kinda edgy about it. He told me to mind my own damn business. Glenn said it was just that time of the month. I told him he was wrong. That was last week.

July 7th
Sarge Peterson told us it was some kind of weather balloon but he’s full of shit. I know what a weather balloon looks like, but it aint no goddam weather balloon. All the guys are saying it some kind alien spaceship, one of those flying saucers people been talking about. All I know is that there shit all over the place, weird shit too. It kinda looks like metal but it don’t weigh nothing. It’s as light as a feather but it don’t bend. It must have came down awfully hard to break this shit into pieces like that.
I don’t know what it is or where it came from but Sarge is takin a lotta heat cause we’re talkin’ like this. He said we’d better keep our mouths shut if we know what’s good for us.
Poor Pasqually couldn’t take the heat. He passed out and spent the rest of the day in the truck. Glenn says he was faking it. We’ll get him tomorrow if the goddamn rattlesnakes don’t get him first. There’s goddamn rattlers and tarantulas all over the place. They like to hide under the bigger chunks. Glenn says you gotta bang on ‘em first then you’ll hear ‘em rattling.

July 8th
Jesus, Mary and Joseph, today we found bodies! We were digging in the main impact site and goddamn if we didn’t find some bodies, three of them. They didn’t look like no Martians to me. Glenn says they were cause they aint got no hair on their bodies, well, hell one didn’t even have no hair on it’s head. They were pretty banged up but not so much that you couldn’t tell the were males cause they all had a dick and balls. Sarge said they’re Russians. Glenn says Sarge is full of shit, they aint no Russians cause they aint got no bushy eyebrows. All I know is the brass is all up in arms about the whole goddamn thing. I guess some asshole printed a story in the paper today. They told us to ignore it. Sarge told us we’d better not say a word about the bodies to anyone or we’ll be spending the rest of our sorry lives bustin’ rocks in Leavenworth. Christ, the whole things gettin’ weird.

July 14th
General Ramey from Fort Worth sent over the official version of what the Army said we saw. I think it’s a bunch of shit. I know what I saw. Glenn says I just better keep my mouth shut, but I won’t be told what I saw. It aint no goddamn weather balloon either. I talked to a reporter for the Roswell Daily Record and I told him I’d give him the story of his life if he promised not mention my name. I meet him tomorrow on my day off.

July 16th
The bastard printed my goddamn name. I’m dead. I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do. I can’t run, where the hell am I supposed to go? it’s a goddamn desert out there.

July 22nd
I buried Elizabeth and Jacob today. They said she was drunk and drove off the road. I know what happened, they killed her. My sweet Elizabeth never drank a drop a booze in her life. Goddamn bastards, they killed my wife and my baby and poor Jerry is still in the hospital. They told me he aint never gonna walk again. Those wretched bastards. But it’s all my own fault I should’ve listened to Glenn.

August 18th
Glenn got promoted today. He’s gonna get his stirpes. He said his wife is pregnant too. Say’s there’s gonna be a little Glenn Jr. if it’s a boy. I asked if he’d name it Glennrietta if it’s a girl. We both laughed. It’s the first time I’ve been able to laugh at anything since the accident. But what the hell do I care anymore. They’re giving me my honorable discharge cause of the hardship of havin’ to raise a cripple with no wife. I can’t wait to get the papers so I can piss on ‘em right in front of them. Already got a place up in Santa Fe where we can stay till I can get a job. Of course, Sergeant Glenn promises to visit Jerry and me once we get settled. I’m not sure if I want him to. He’s been acting strange lately. He used to be on my side. Now they are giving him a new job and he says I shouldn’t have crossed them. He said I was a fool to think I could get even. He’s not the same Glenn Stratton I called my friend…

She read the sentence again. Glenn Stratton? What? Could it be? Her mind raced back to Glenn’s office in California. In her mind she saw the pictures on the wall. A military man with a young boy on his lap sitting in a jeep in the desert. Another shot of the boy and the man on a tank with mesa’s in the background. Was this her Glenn Stratton Jr.? The timelines worked out. The locations were within reason.

She was in a panic. Her head was swimming with countless scenarios that seemed all too plausible. Could it be possible that Glenn was in on this? Did Baines know about it all along? Suddenly, she felt very alone. If this were true would she ever be able to look at her friend in the same light again? And what was the story with Jerry Baines? Was it the truth or just so much bullshit? Did he tell her the whole truth except the part about her boss and best friend possibly being part of a massive conspiracy? Could she really trust him or anyone now?

The plane was on final approach when she finally snapped out of the trance she had put herself in. She only hoped that it was all an incredible coincidence, and Glenn’s imagined misdeeds merely a figment of her vivid imagination. But how was she going to know for sure? If she asked Jerry Baines would he even tell her the truth? Would anyone tell her the truth?

Chapter 5

2004-12-24T21:24:00.000-08:00

Chapter Five

On each of a thousand elevated pads a Network transporter waited with open doors. In less than thirty seconds the welcome landing would be overrun by a mob of disappointed people. If his luck held he would be speeding toward the plateau before the first wave arrived.

Carrying a commboard and wearing a monocle camera over one eye, Sollalia was making all the gestures of a smart reporter with a hot lead. He was a step away from salvation when he heard shouting. He knew the voice. He snapped his head around to locate the source.

"Up here," came the voice again. He looked up and found Livvevea standing in the open door smiling down at him. "Quickly," she urged him, "before anyone sees you."

Soll rifled his way around the ramp and ducked inside. "How did you know where to find me?" He asked as he tore the camera from his face.

"I knew what you were up to. I knew it the second you gave the floor to Sebb. You are a clever one. You knew Larrvino would close the session down."

"You’re right, but am I that predictable?"

"Remember, I was there… I knew she had nothing. How could she? No one knows for sure what Dakk’s message really means."

"Well, I intend to find out," he mumbled.

"How? They won’t let you see him until he’s cleared the quarantine period."

"They’ll have to. I'll invoke High Council privilege if I have to."

"Won’t Deppopio have to grant it?"

"He will."

"Then it’s settled," she declared, "I won’t have to travel alone," She laid her hand on the console activating the anti-matter field. "Ballalta’s City, please…" The transporter began lifting off the pad. "High Council priority… Clear all necessary flight lanes."

"Wouldn’t miss this party, would you," Soll said half smiling. "I suppose you miss him terribly?"

She blushed. Perhaps of all people Soll understood her anguish. Thirty years ago his mate left him to pursue a dangerous mission and never returned. How awful he must have felt when Dakk signed up for a tour of duty with Galactic. Losing Dakk would surely be the final blow. "More than anything in the world," she whispered.

He laughed heartily. "Then you’ll take him back after what he’s put you through."

"If he’ll have me. You do realize he’ll have his choice of any woman in the city. He’ll be famous you know, perhaps as famous as Deppopio himself."
"I know."

She saw a horde of reporters descending on the pad. He had been spotted. With a punch of a button the transparent hull became opaque. "Let’s get out of here!"

***

Ballalta’s City was like no other place in the world. Ancient legends told of the explorer Ballalta, who set out to chart the Great South Belt Ocean from the tiny port town and became the first person to successfully circumnavigate the globe. The town that eventually came to bear his name started out as a dreary trading post with little to offer but hot weather and large insects. It was now recognized to be one of the oldest cities in the world, quite possibly as old as Terrekka’s City itself. It grew in size and reputation as it became a trading center for all that was unusual and exotic. With the advent of spaceflight the ‘Gateway City’ became Orr’s primary spaceport and the birthplace of the juggernaut known as Galactic Mining. Flush with the wealth from mineral rights for entire the solar system Galactic Mining quickly became the premiere organization on the planet. Wielding more control than the Terrekkan High Council, it was often said that the director of the ‘mining’ was the most influential person in the world. The clash of wills between the old families on the Terrekkan High Council and Galactic Mining provided the impetus for the construction of a neutral government city. New Pallpoli was built to be the home of the Orrian High Council. The council was given the right as the sole arbiter of space policy. Within the monumental compromise Galactic was given exclusive right to chart deep space.

Lured by the glamour of space travel young people were drawn to the glittering port city. Those not interested in spaceflight came for the grand parties. Ballalta's City was renown for its Convergence Night soirees. It was often said that the city's population doubled on Convergence Night.

The Celestial Convergence, the point at which Jarr and Dass came nearest the planet, happened four times a year. The twin moons, sharing the same elliptical orbit exactly one hundred and eighty degrees apart, completed the roundabout just twice each year. In ancient times, it was celebrated as a fertility ritual. Today it was just a splendid excuse for a party. The actual convergence lasted only a matter minutes but the parties went on for days. The Epoch Points, when the moons were their furthest from Orr, were only significant to the culture as calendar markers.

Only once had the city seen a party that surpassed the sacred Convergence night affairs. It was the night Deppopio was released from quarantine. He descended upon a city that waited breathlessly for their new hero. It was the stuff of legends, a gala like the world had never seen. In less than ten days there was to be a party that would surpass even that. The city was bracing itself for the emergence of Dakkalia and the mayhem that was sure to follow.

As the rumors of what Dakkalia had discovered circulated the corridors and strollways the mood of the city became frenetic. Thousands poured into Ballalta's City daily until it seemed poised to burst at the seams. The whole scene only served to frighten Livv. Torn between the electric anticipation of seeing him again and the crushing anxiety of finding him so altered by his experience that he wouldn’t even recognize her. It was a thought she couldn’t bear. She thought she had prepared herself for the possibility that he would dispatch her, but every minute closer to his release told her that she hadn’t succeeded. It was the reason her mother always told her to stay away from Galactic pilots. 'They’ll break your heart.'

She stood alone at the foot of the towering Galaxy Building. Looking up as it disappeared into the clouds she was transported back in time. It was the exact spot where she had watched Dakk’s shuttle ascend into the clear blue sky more than fourteen months ago. No one cared about Dakkalia as she stood alone crying that painful day. Today the strollways overflowed with admirers all wanting to be a part of history with him.

As she wandered the elevated strollway moving toward the mezzanine, she saw a holosculptor erecting a statue of him. His image was literally everywhere she looked. Propelled by the mass of bodies pushing their way into the foyer she passed a group of young girls boasting how each was going to attract his attention. They were all very young and beautiful. She frowned; he could have any one of them or all of them if he so desired. She spied her own reflection in the mirrored wall. She straightened her posture and smiled and yet her eyes saw a figure that did not compare to young and nubile maidens standing next to her. Her heart sank, with all these choices surely he would not want her anymore.

She ducked inside the building only to find a hundred more young girls plucking and preening themselves, preparing for a one-time chance to catch his eye. They were everywhere. She silently screamed: was there no escape? Finally, at the end of the mall she saw a hopeful sign. It was the House of the Book of Terrekka. A safe haven. In there intellectuals would be dutifully studying the ancient documents. She ran toward the sign, pushing people aside and scowling at anyone who objected.

Once inside she took a seat at the rear of the lecture hall. The speaker stopped to acknowledge her and then continued speaking...

"…One of the questions most often asked in post discovery era is what would Terrekka Herself have made of the savages of Earth. As you can imagine, Terrekkan scholars eagerly dug into to this question almost immediately upon Deppopio’s return. I believe there is really only one conclusion one can draw from studying the Word. I dare to say The Book is clear - She would have accepted them into the forest as our brothers and sisters. Now, if you will all tab over to Reckoning, section 1425:28… Are we all there?"

Livv did not have a commboard. Noticing this, an old man sitting near her motioned for her to sit by him and share his. His silent gesture and warm smile were compelling enough get her move to the open chair next to him. "Thank you," she whispered. "You’re very kind."

"Now, I’d like to show you something that is very interesting, and is still the subject of many interpretations. If you’ll allow me to read Terrekka's words... 'In time all the tribes of the forest shall live in the grace of peace and fellowship, and at such time I will be gone. I will be needed elsewhere. All who hear the Word shall know the way. There are those who are not of this forest who shall hear the Word and they too will know the way. The creator knows them as the creator knows me.

'Do not despair at my passing as I shall be remembered by those who hear the Word and my work will continue as long as the creator fills the night sky with stars...'

"Now," the speaker continued, "if you’ll all reference the Earth volume New Testament, Greek Translation and tab over to John 10:14-17 and again allow me to read the words attributed to the prophet Jesus Christ... 'I am the good shepherd; my sheep are known to me and know me; just as I am known to my father and know him. And for these sheep I am laying down my life. I have other sheep too, which do not belong to this fold; I must bring them in too; they will listen to my voice; so there will be one fold, and one shepherd. This my father loves in me, that I am laying down my life to take it up again afterwards...' These words are incredibly powerful. The comparisons are simply fascinating."

Maybe Soll would’ve found it fascinating, she thought to herself. She had never studied the Book of Terrekka the way he had. It was all rather droll to her.

Presently her portacon was flashing. A tiny image of her friend Gynnevva hovered over her arm. Gynnevva worked for Sebbreba in the same capacity that she served Soll. She quietly excused herself and left the hall. She found a secluded corner where she could return the call in peace.

"This is Livv. Are you there?"

"Livvy!" Gynn’s holographic image shouted from the portacon on her wrist.

"Where are you?"

"I’m in Ballalta’s City, silly. Where else would I be?"

"Sorry, stupid question," Livv admitted sheepishly. Everyone was in the city today. "We simply must get together. Where can we meet?"

"How about right here."

"Wha...?"

"Turn around."

Livv spun in place and was standing face to face with her old friend.

***
He felt like an animal on display. His cage a quarantine chamber. Despite being perfectly adorned with holographic images of home it was still a cage. He had been poked and prodded and examined from head to toe, peppered with endless questions and deprived of any semblance of privacy.

Quarantine was something veteran surveyors just accepted as part of the process. A tedious exercise, it was something that had to be endured for the safety of the Orrian system. Quarantine was designed to protect the home world from the rest of the galaxy. At least that is what Galactic Mining would say. In reality, it served to protect Galactic’s vital interests; not everything discovered became public knowledge. The High Council knew it. Everyone knew it. It was the price that society paid for the brave men and women who tripped through darkspace. In bringing home the wonders of the galaxy it was Galactic that took the risk and so it was reasonable that Galactic enjoyed the spoils.

The trippers themselves ultimately paid the price. Precious time was lost, as family and friends grew old without them. They often outlived everyone they loved. There were those who even envied them. On its face, the concept was quite appealing. After all, who wouldn’t want to be young forever? In truth, it was more a curse than a blessing. They came back to a changed world. Nothing was ever the same. He remembered trying to explain it to Livv before he left on his first charting mission. "Why won’t you age while you are gone?" - "I will age, just not as much as you will." - "It doesn’t make any sense. Isn’t time the same everywhere? And the speed of light; isn’t it a universal constant? "- "Well, yes... and no." - "Which is it?" - "It’s a bit complicated." He patiently explained the phenomenon as best he could: "One of the key elements involved in the defining time drift," he began, "is calculating the velocity and the direction of the universe relative to the velocity and direction of the breakout target. It's as hard to explain as it is to grasp… The universe of light is in constant motion, moving from something to something, like a river if you will. The individual galaxies spin away like eddies in turbulent water. Our galaxy itself is moving in relation to the river as a whole, yet, since it is also rotating it means parts of it are moving toward the source while other parts are moving away. Likewise, the individual star systems also rotate around the core of the galaxy further complicating time drift. So you can see that calculating time variables is tremendously difficult without complicated mathematical algorithms which require exact figures in order to be perfectly accurate. That’s why we can account for the time drift to all the colonies and to Earth. All the variables are known and can be calculated precisely. But when we are charting new systems the exact figures are not available. It’s like this: when we break the light barrier, time, as we know it ceases to exist. I could be suspended in darkspace for months or even years as time passes here, but to me it is merely a blink of an eye. If my breakout target is moving away from me relative to the place I started then more time is lost. However, if the breakout target is moving toward me relative to the place I started then the breakout target is rushing toward me eating up the distance between us and the time lost is much less. Am I making any sense to you?" - She smiled. He was never quite satisfied with his ability to explain the seemingly unexplainable.

The constant barrage of tests and endless interviews had left him drained. He just wanted to sleep. When he woke he was going to want to eat real food; fresh food brought up from the planet, not grown in the hothouse at the station. His keepers promised they would oblige. Climbing into the float bed he smiled to himself, soon he hoped he would not have to sleep alone. The thought of Livv’s body wrapped around his brought on a shudder. It was the image of her face that had sustained his sanity, and forbade him from giving up. The world would never really know the role she played in history, but he would know and he would be forever humbled by it.

As he drifted on the edge of sleep he wondered if Livv had waited for him. Over a year had passed on Orr, but to a light tripper these things seem like only a few weeks. He felt a pang in his heart as he told himself he would understand if she met somebody. He tried to put it out of his mind but couldn’t. Finally, the pall of sleep did it for him.

"Excuse me, sir," came the low, soft voice of the console, "You have a visitor."

"What now?" he shouted. "I told you no more interviews!"

"Dakk, it’s me, Soll."

"Father? It’s you? How?"

"I’m in the exam chamber, here on Dass."

"But... How did you get here? The quarantine?"

"I threatened to invoke High Council privilege. Viddelio thought better of that and granted my request."

"I see," Dakk mumbled. "Old Vidd didn’t want a confrontation with the most popular alumni in the history of the mining."

"I’m not so sure Depp would have stepped up for me, but, thankfully, it didn’t come to that. That will be a subject for another time. Now, can I see you? Turn on your projector and point it to exam room eleven. My projector is already on if you’ll just activate the receiver."

Dakk materialized before his eyes. Soll reacted as only a father could. "Ah, son, you look great!" It was a lie. The truth was that he didn’t look good at all. The first thing that struck Soll was the streak of white hair on his otherwise black head. He had always been a thin boy; he now looked positively skeletal. His eyes, though sunken, were as bright as always; and his smile beamed. "Dakk, I’m so proud of you."

"Stop it, will you. I’ve had enough of how great I am. I’m just Dakkalia that's all. A surveyor. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Now, wait a minute, you’re the son of Sollalia. Let’s not minimize that." They both laughed aloud.

Soll feared that his son had no idea what awaited him back home. His hero status, already legendary, would only escalate the minute he set foot on Orrian soil. It was his job to prepare him for that.

"Well," Soll began, "I’ve seen the preliminary report. What have they told you?"

"They don’t need to tell me anything," Dakk countered. "I know what we need to do."

"And that is?"

"Prepare for war!"

Soll was astounded by his son’s appeal. "I don’t understand… Have you even seen the report?"

"I don’t need to see it. I’m telling you right now we cannot waste a single minute."

"Your logs contained very precise data on the extent of the Sirenese domain. That, by the way, is the name they’ve chosen to give them. They’ve pinpointed their original home planet and based on their rate of expansion that they won’t be reaching this sector of the galaxy for two thousand years."

Dakk sighed. Brushing Soll’s assumptions away with a wave of a hand. He declared: "That was before. That doesn’t mean a thing now."

"Before what?"

"Before they saw me. They’re coming and they will not stop until they get here."

"But you escaped. They don’t know where this place is. You dumped their ship into a black hole. You’ve done something no one else has ever done; you straddled the event horizon and lived. You came back, alone, free from your pursuers. We’re safe because of you."

He watched his son pace the room; the hologram disappearing into the wall only to reappear on the other side of the room forcing him to spin around on his chair. Dakk stopped in front of him and looked him in the eye. "You don’t understand, do you?"

"I understand this...You should be proud of what you’ve done…"

"Proud! We’re doomed because of me."

"You can’t be serious," Soll exclaimed. "You must not think such thoughts."

"No… No. Listen to me! Has anyone thought about what this means to all of our deep space activity? They have an imprint of our propulsion signature, and they’ll be looking for it. All they need is to find one and it’ll be over. I’ve seen what they’re capable of. They do not take prisoners..."

Oh, but they do, thought Soll. Despite his own feeble reassurances he knew his son was right. It was even worse than Dakk’s dire predictions. They were a race bent on conquest, that much was true, and the only thing keeping them from expanding their empire even faster was the perpetual war being waged amongst themselves.

Just before Dakk had ignited his lightdrives, in the moments preceding his diversionary explosion, he was able to do a complete sensor sweep of the Sirenese warship. If for nothing else that act alone made him a true hero. The picture his report painted was mortifying. It was too terrifying to consider. These warriors practiced the ultimate in the slave trade. It seems the eleven distinct factions among the Sirenese fought for the supreme booty... Sirenese women. Enemy warriors were summarily slaughtered, but the women were treated like royalty for they could produce the one thing that was prized more than anything else, future warriors. There was some evidence that the women were never educated and were not cognizant of their ultimate role. They were protected at all costs.

The report estimated that at least five thousand planets were colonized by the Sirenese. In contrast the Orrians had colonized a mere one hundred and fifty. Perhaps the most startling fact of all was that the Sirenese war had been going on for over thirty thousand years. If Dakk was right the chance to claim five billion Orrian women might be just the thing to bring all the factions together. It was a bone chilling thought.

"Father, when do you plan to return to the surface?" Dakk asked him.

"When you do. I intend to stand by your side."

"I’d like that."

***

They followed the parade through the mall and out into the strollways, winding aimlessly around the sleepless city until the sun began to rise. Gynn had succeeded in getting a few shots of dieto juice into Livv. The ‘nectar of the living creation’ flowed freely from every tap in the city.
Extracted from the fruit of dietomini vines dieto juice was a powerful intoxicant. Processed from the mature fruit in varying stages of ripeness to determine its ultimate potency it arrived on the palette in an infinite variety of tastes and smells. Its active ingredient was an anti-anxiety agent that had been used as medicine to prevent the onset of shock for hundreds of centuries. Livv, of course, did not care about any of this, she only knew she liked the way it made her feel.

The city was alive with an intensity she had never experienced before. Even the peddlers of illegal Earth artifacts seemed to suspend their usual clandestine tactics. Gynnevva found shoes called Adidas from a place called Malaysia. Livv walked around in the dark with Ray Ban sunglasses from the USA perched on her head. Everyone they met was wearing something that came from Earth. None seemed to fear confiscation by the High Council’s Contraband Group who were, curiously enough, all but absent from the scene.

All around her were images of Dakkalia. At first, she wanted so badly to scream out at the world to tell them she was Dakkalia’s lover. The more she drank the more removed from him she became until not even hearing Gynn swoon over him bothered her anymore. Before long she was worshiping the same untouchable icon as the rest of them.

"He’s so beautiful. Do you think you could set me up with him?" Gynn asked teasingly. "I don’t know how you could keep your hands off him when you are at his father’s place. You must have had a chance to be alone with him."

"Yes, it is true," Livv replied, smiling inwardly. "Oh, yes, I do agree, he is beautiful, but so painfully quiet. He doesn’t like to talk about himself."

"Really, I would think he lives a fascinating life."

"You realize, don’t you, that he’s had three unsuccessful trips. And there’s been no one throwing a party for him when he came home then. I’m the only one..." She stopped herself as Gynn's eyebrows rose. "Soll’s been so busy he sends me to retrieve his son."

Gynn sensed the possessiveness in her voice. "You like him, don’t you?" she asked with a smirk. She saw the averted glance of embarrassment in Livv’s face. "I knew it!"

"Stop it! You’re being ridiculous. He’s a friend, of course I like him."

"I guess you won’t be setting me up with him then," Gynn laughed. "You’ll keep him for yourself..."

Livv smiled. She wasn’t going to let Gynn goad her on. "I guess you’ll never know."

They laughed and chased each other through the city the rest of the night and into the morning. In the square at the center of the city they danced to music of Elvis Presley and ate their fill of some oddly shaped little wafers from Earth called Pringles. Finally, succumbing to exhaustion, they found a room at the Ballaltan Council Building to escape from the light of the new day and slept uninterrupted until dusk.

Gynn was first to awaken. She was glad to see Livv still sleeping. Crawling on all fours she searched for a discarded dress until she found what she had come to Ballalta’s city for: Livvevea’s portacon. Working quickly she disabled its tamper alarm. She scanned the device for all the clearance codes and personal data it contained and then drained it’s power crystals so it would appear to be corrupted and in need of a reset. She had been well trained, and was a skilled specialist at covering her tracks, not many knew how to disable a secured portacon. She then sat quietly in the corner, smiling to herself, waiting for her friend to wake up.

***

"You’re out of your mind," Vidd charged. "I can’t do that. What you’re talking about is a death sentence for Earth. I’ll have nothing to do with it."

Larrvino sat in cold silence. Sipping a glass quadafia rind blend he watched the nervous eyes of Viddelio dart back and forth and chuckled to himself. It was the thing he most liked about the High Director of Galactic Mining and Mapping. He could always count on him to act like a trapped animal whenever they were in the same room together.

Vidd’s office rotated slowly from its perch atop the Galaxy building. On a clear day it provided Vidd and his visitors a most spectacular view. Ballalta’s Bay wrapped around the city on three sides and lush jungle stretching out as far as the eye could see. It was one of the world’s most stunning vistas.

"You can drop your stoic pretense’s, Vidd," Larr said mockingly. "I’ve got some friends on the High Council who’d just love to know about some of your less than honorable activities."

"What?" Vidd said with his brow furrowed in confusion. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Oh, but I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, Mr. Victor Delano..."

Vidd’s jaw dropped. "How? How did you find out about that?"

"Don’t be so ignorant, Vidd. Did you think your Delano Industries was going to go unnoticed? Your first mistake was to let it grow it too fast. Had it taken thirty years I may have never looked into it. People like Sam Walton and the Cargill’s built their businesses over the decades, but I don't trust people like Steve Case and Bill Gates. We all know that there are Orrians working on Earth to thwart our every effort to keep Orr safe. People like Victor Delano… Besides, Vidd, you didn’t disguise yourself very well. I saw you in Forbes and the in Wall Street Journal. You're a fool and a buffoon. You let yourself be photographed. Why would you be so careless?"

"Does anyone else know?"

"No, it’ll be our little secret. And I’ll make a promise to keep it that way if you’ll just do what I asked of you."

"But you can't be serious!"

Larr laughed uproariously. He stopped abruptly and pulled in close to Vidd’s face, the pungent smell of quadafia pierced the air between them, and "I've never been more serious in my life. Now, will you do it or do I make a little trip to New Pallpoli tonight?"

"Do you realize what you’re asking me to do? If I point one of our satellites toward Sirenese space Earth will be doomed. It’ll be genocide. I’d be responsible for the deaths of billions..."

"Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Billions of what? Primitives? They’re animals, Vidd. Look what they’ve done to our beautiful culture. Have you been down there?" Larr pointed to the plaza below them. "Have you seen what our young people are doing down there? You’ll be doing all of us a big favor. You alone will have saved the world."

Vidd scoffed at the notion. "If you think it will keep them from coming after us you’re wrong. How long do think it will take them to realize that Dakk’s jumpship could not have possible come from Earth? Besides, Earth’s scientists may use primitive methods but they’re not so unsophisticated that they wouldn’t notice it. They’ll launch one of their rocket shuttles and confiscate it."

"It really won’t matter by then, now, will it?" Larr gulped down the last of his drink and smashed the glass on Vidd’s solid marble desk. "No more discussion! Now do it!"

"You’re insane, Larr. Positively insane."

Chapter 6

2004-12-23T18:08:00.000-08:00

Chapter Six

Jerry Baines was a crazy old coot. The whole thing was absolutely preposterous. Ridiculous. There had been a thousand outrageous stories just like his; each one of them unsupported with cold hard facts. The diary and the mysterious object were compelling enough, but not beyond reasonable doubt. Then why did she believe this one? She tried to resist; it's not possible… It just couldn't be true. The specter of Glenn Stratton being a party to the grandest conspiracy of them all was more than she could entertain. She hated the old man for what he had done.

She slumped back in her bed; her eyes riveted on a shadowless ceiling. Sleep eluded her. Dark, delirious thoughts raced through her jaded mind. Her world had been turned upside down by this peculiar old man. She sighed; how could things ever be the same?

She stared at the telephone for a long time before finally picking it up. She opened the cover of the journal and found the number Jerry Baines had penciled in. Slowly, deliberately she punched in the number and waited as it rang repeatedly. Part of her was glad no one was picking it up; she despised confrontation. Jerry Baines had to be confronted. He deserved a piece of her anger. He had lied to her. But even worse was the possibility that it was true. It was eating her up inside

Just as she went to lay the handset in the cradle she heard his voice on the other end of the line. "Julia? Is that you?"

She put the phone to her ear and with a shallow breath said, "yes, yes it’s me, Mr. Baines."

"Julia, is everything all right?"

"No, actually, everything is not all right."

"I thought you might be calling." Baines said calmly, his soothing voice taking the chill from the air between them. "If you’re upset with me I understand. Before you condemn me… may I have my say?"

She sighed. Nothing he could say would make it any worse. "Go ahead, have your say."

"Thank you… By now you realize that I knew Glenn Stratton Jr. was the son of my father’s mate at the Roswell Army Air Base back in '47. I had a good reason not come right out and tell you. I was telling the absolute truth when I told you I don’t actually know Mr. Stratton, we've never met in person. Would you have believed me if I came right and told you that your boss, your best friend, was part of this conspiracy?" There was silence. "I had to let you discover it on your own. You were going to need time to think things over. I knew you would pick up the phone and call me when you were ready."

"No, I wouldn’t have believed you. And I'm not saying I believe you now. I don't really know you - why should I trust you? Glenn has been like a father to me, he's been my best friend for two years. For all I know this is a dirty trick and Glenn knows nothing about Roswell.

"The evidence doesn’t support it."

"Evidence?"

"Shortly after the Roswell incident Glenn Sr. went to work for a newly formed agency in the Truman White House. President Truman wanted to keep the lid on the crash because he, like everyone else, thought it was a Soviet plot. He wanted to spare the public the anxiety. After Truman left office the agency took on a life of it’s own. It was the forerunner to today’s NSA. Glenn Jr. worked for the military wing of the NSA throughout his military career. He still has close associations with the agency. I trust you are well aware of his frequent trips to Washington. It's unlikely to be a mere coincidence."

Julia felt her heart sinking in her chest. She was rapidly losing all hope. Still, there was something about this whole affair that bothered her immensely. "Let me ask you something… If you are so convinced that Glenn is part of this conspiracy then why are you funding him and S.E.T.I.?"

"Because we want the same thing."

"What? What does that mean? You want the same thing?"

"The Global Array," Baines replied tonelessly.

A switch was tripped in her head. Yes, of course, the Global Array was the key to it all! She remembered how upset Glenn had been when a previous administration pulled the plug on the funding. He knew it was mankind’s last best hope to unraveling the mystery of the UFO’s. For Baines, the answer meant the Roswell incident would be exposed to the light of truth and he would finally have peace in his old age. "So, it was you who kept the project alive before the Cole administration restored funding, wasn’t it?"

Baines nodded, his eyes brightened. "Yes it was. There were many, many others with me, to be sure. Together we raised eight hundred and fifty million dollars." He was clearly proud of the fact. "Glenn Stratton and I want the same thing but for very different reasons. It doesn’t necessarily mean we are enemies, it just means we have different priorities. His job is to provide the NSA with the answers and mine is to expose the governments complicity in the murder of my family."

As much as she wanted to she could not remain angry with him. He tried to protect her, and she wanted to resent him for that but couldn’t. "Is there anything else I should know? Anything you haven’t told me?"

Baines laughed. "Well, I suppose I had that coming. No. I’ve taken this as far as I can. The rest is up to you, my dear. It’s time we resolve this sorted affair, and you’re just the person to do it. I can only repeat what I said to you earlier: be careful. These guys play for keeps… Now listen, I want you to call me anytime you feel the need. This number is reserved for you and you alone. I personally will answer it no matter where I am or what I’m doing. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes, Mr. Baines, I will."

"It’s Jerry to you."

"All right, Jerry. Goodbye."

She laid phone down and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

She was standing in the jungle surrounded by strange trees she had never seen before. They had multiple trunks that twisted around themselves as they raced skyward. They reminded her of when her mother used to braid her long black hair. There was a small boy and a man walking in front of her. She did not know either of them yet the man seemed strangely familiar. They treated her presence with a nonchalance that suggested a connection between them. Above the crunch of their footsteps on the forest floor, she heard a ringing sound.

The boy suddenly came up with a tiny snake in his hands and showed it to the man. As the man began to explain that the snake would one day grow big enough to swallow him whole the ringing grew louder. The boy continued to play with the snake as the man went about inspecting tiny saplings of the same variety as the giant twisted trees that towered over them. He called the boy over but she could not hear what was said because the ringing had become intense. The boy laid the snake down at the base of the tree and looked to her for approval but ringing had become overwhelming. She screamed...

Julia sat bolt upright in bed. The phone was blaring at her with the impatience of an overdue alarm clock. She rubbed her eyes trying to focus on the clock sitting on the nightstand. It was ten to four in the morning. Who could be calling at this hour? She let it ring a few more times before deciding whoever it was on the other end was not going to give up.

"Hello..."

"Julia!" Glenn Stratton shouted. "Get down here, now!"

"Glenn? What’s going on?"

"Something’s happened. Something you've got to see!" Glenn’s excitement was beyond containment. "I think it’s happened!"

"All right. Let me get dressed. I’m on my way."

"Hurry!"

***

She drove south on Highway 101 and made the Mountain View exit by five after five. She walked through the door at five fifteen and felt an electricity she had never experienced before. Everybody was fully charged. Lois Fairchild, Glenn’s second in command, raced by with an empty pot of coffee.

"Julia! My God, isn’t this exciting?" she blurted.

"Yes... I guess it is... What’s happened? Glenn didn’t say much on the phone."

Lois smiled and tilted her head toward Glenn’s office "I’d better let him tell you. He’s in there with Andy right now." She pointed to the well stained coffee carafe, "I’ve got to get another pot going right away," she said with a tiny laugh. "The natives are restless."

Julia knocked on Glenn’s door with trepidation; there was a resistance she could not overcome with positive thoughts alone. When she heard his voice she stiffened her back and smiled as she walked in. "Goodness, what's going on around here?"

Andy Gable could barely contain himself as he jumped out of his chair. "It’s happened, Julia. It's the real deal!"

"Well?" she said with eyebrows raised, her gaze swinging toward Glenn. "What's the story?"

"It goes like this... This morning at precisely 3:08:22 AM we received a transmission from an unknown source that lasted 1.25 seconds. It blew the wheels off everything we have around here. This thing was effing huge!" He paused and tried to read her reaction.

"Have we been able to get a fix on it?" Julia asked optimistically. "Alpha Centurions? Vegans? Martians?"

Glenn smiled. "Not even close - it came from Earth orbit somewhere over the Western Hemisphere. We’d have it to within an eyelash right now if the goddam Array was fully online. But please, don’t get me started on that."

"What does NORAD have to say about it?"

"Hell, they called us. They don't have a clue."

"Then you’re talking about the visitors. Right?" Julia shot back. "Do you have any other independent confirmation?"

Glenn smiled. "The phone has been ringing off the hook. Everyone got it! I'm telling you this is huge."

"What are the other possibilities?" She prodded them again. "What about something new from the Russians? Or the ESA... Or the Chinese, for that matter..." She stopped as Glenn shook his head back and forth.

"Why not?"

"Not possible. We know about every piece of junk they hurl up there before it ever leaves the ground. This did not come from any technology on this planet."

"Can I see it?"

"Absolutely," Andy said, "come with me."

He grabbed her hand, something he was still inclined to do despite the fact that they were not officially 'seeing each other' anymore. Julia still loved him dearly, but she could never be there for him the way he wanted. The success of the show had pulled them away from each other too many times. Rather than torture each other with guilt they put a stop to their budding romance before they grew to resent one another.

She watched the screen as Andy played the audio track of the event. It sounded like a burst of static. He expanded the graphic, stretching it across the screen. The rastorized image exceeded the upper and lower ranges. It had been so powerful that it spiked every measuring device they employed. All these years they had been expecting a whisper and instead they got a blood-curdling scream.

"What the hell is it?" she asked of no one in particular. "Have you thought of looking back at old daily logs?"

"Way ahead of you, darling," Glenn said. "We’ve got two people on that right now. And yes, there’s something to it."

"So where do we go from here?" she said looking between Glenn and Andy. "What does it mean if we don’t even know what we’ve got?"

"Well, our boy, Andy, has got himself a theory. If it all pans out we’ll have answers by this time tomorrow."

***

For twenty hours she watched and listened. Andy and his crew scarcely noticed her as they prepared the equipment for what they hoped would be a second event. She stayed close to him. Deep in her heart she knew he of all people could not tainted by conspiracy. There was not a cynical bone in his body. His wide-eyed enthusiasm and unquestionable patriotism strengthened her faith in his pureness. It was as if somehow he alone could protect her from the men with dark sunglasses.

As the hour drew near the crew nominated Julia to summon Glenn, whom they’d presumed was sleeping in his office. Despite her protests the nomination stood. After avoiding being alone with him all day there was no escape for her this time. She knocked on his door and almost immediately he called for her to come in. He hardly sounded like a man being jarred out of a slumber.

"Julia," he said with the phone perched on his shoulder, "I’ll be right with you." He resumed his conversation. "Then why did you even bother calling me? Oh, I see, just covering all the bases... No, I don’t think it very wise of you to pull my people off this project right now... For the Christ’s sake, John! We set this whole goddam thing up and now you are gonna slip right in and run it... Oh, is that right? Over my dead body…"

Julia paced his office trying not to seem interested in his conversation. With the events of the last three days she felt like an amateur sleuth picking up tiny clues wherever they hid themselves. She causally studied the pictures on his walls. It was just as she remembered: photos of Glenn with his father on various military installations in the southwest.

"... Carvin, it’s no wonder NASA is as screwed up as it is!" He slammed the phone down. "Boy, the nerve of some people..."

"I know it’s none of my business," she said timidly, "was that..."

"John Carvin, NASA. He’s going to try to pull the rug out from under us. I’ll tell you right now, I’m not going to stand by and watch that buffoon ruin everything I’ve done. There’s too damn much at stake. Anyway, not to worry honey, that’s my battle. Now, what can I do for you?"

"It’s time, well, in a half-hour."

He looked at his watch and shook his head. "So it is. Is everything ready?"
"Yes, I think so. Andy tells me that he’s attenuated the sensors with a gate that will clamp within 50 pico-seconds, or so he tells me. He’s adjusted the sensitivity to compensate for the expected spike. I guess that means he’s ready."

"Good," Glenn said as he stood up. "Let’s go then."

"Glenn?" she began as she looked at the photo of Glenn and his dad sitting in a Jeep. "Where was this taken?"

Glenn squinted at the photo. "That was at what they now call Nellis Air Force Base north of Las Vegas."

"How about this one," she pointed to the next one.

"Roswell, New Mexico." He smiled at her as he slipped his coat on. "Why do you ask?"

That was all she needed to hear. Now she believed what Jerry Baines knew along. "I just find it fascinating, that’s all. I mean, that was back when the military man was respected. After the big war and all."

"No doubt about it," he beamed, "people looked up to men in uniform back then. Not like when I was in during the 1960’s. God, what twisted time that was... But that’s the past. Today, if all goes well, we’ll be diving straight into the future. Head first." He smiled a toothy grin and walked out the door.

And just what would the future hold? She didn’t have it within her to confront him. But she knew it couldn’t go on the way it had, not now, not with what she knew about him. Whatever they shared in the past was gone. For the first time in her life she felt the painful sting of betrayal. She could never again trust anything he told her. It made her heart heavy.

Chapter 7

2004-12-22T18:20:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

He liked Victor. Victor was honest. Victor was loyal. Victor could always be counted on to do the right thing. He wished he could be more like Victor. It was sad thing, he had dreamed of growing old with Victor Delano. As much as it upset him to have to stab old Victor in the back he always knew it would come down to this. There would be only twenty years to fill the orders. The banquet of Earthly treasures would be come to an end once the Sirenese arrived. He was going to miss it all. It had become a way of life for him. It was the most fun he’d ever had. His 'work' brought him to the ends of the Earth. Vidd grew to love the primitives of Earth. Having been charmed by colorful people of every culture he had friends all over the globe. What a shame it all had to go.

It had always been the thrill of the hunt for him. Filling and order in explicit detail and delivering it on time to the client is what pleased him. He had never missed a promised delivery date. There was still so much to do… He was already backlogged several years. Moreover, he knew it was going to be up to him to rescue Earth's greatest works of art before the Sirenese destroyed it all. He’d have to increase his personal staff to get it all done.

Viddelio had risen to his position in life the old fashioned way. He bought it. He was the undeniable master of the political favor and always seemed to be there when times were tough. He was everybody's friend. He had the uncommon ability to set things right, to dissolve calamity into the ether. He was good at it. He was everywhere at once, always one step ahead of trouble.

When the time was right he called in his favors and found himself sitting on top of the world. He was quietly installed as the Supreme Director of Galactic Mining and Mapping, occupying the High Chair of the small group of people who commanded the elite organization.

Everyone knew he didn’t belong there. He was neither a manager nor a visionary. The position was as much a trophy as the treasures he now brought back from Earth. Everyone understood how he got there and why. He was a figurehead without official duties. He didn’t care for the drudgery of the day to day machinations of a complex system like Galactic. That distraction would be left to those who cared. He just liked being Victor. Victor knew how to have fun. Victor Delano made him feel alive.
He owed it all to a child genius named Gellseno. It was young Gell who had forged a man out of nothing; giving him an identity, a home town, an alma mater, bank accounts, and even his own Social Security number in the United States. Created out of thin air, Victor was a fully-grown man with a past, a present and a future.

For seven years Vidd did exactly what Gell told him to do. The boy taught him everything he knew about Earth, his natural charm did the rest. Trading in Earth contraband had never been more lucrative. It was tidy little venture until eventually Vidd grew bored with Gell’s mundane little projects. Without seeking Gell's counsel, he struck out to conquer the world. Victor Delano had come into his own.

He put up a high rise building on an old toxic waste site in downtown Phoenix when no one else would even look at the land. He called his palace Delano Industries World Headquarters. He studied the intricate world of high finance just enough to learn that he needed to employ the very best talent to get the desired results. He spared no expense. Landing a job with Delano Industries soon became a prestigious badge. With the help of his team of whiz kids he began acquiring small, successful firms from all over the world. In the span of a few short years he had become the hottest entrepreneur in the American southwest. What Vidd was doing with Victor Delano was stretching the very limits of Gell's handiwork. Victor, ‘the Vic’, was now being scrutinized by everyone. Despite his positive public image, the media, the multi-nationals, and the American government wanted to know more about this overnight sensation of the business world. There was bound to be a hole in his story. Someday, somebody would find it.

"So, what kind of trouble have you got poor Victor into now?" Gell snickered.

"Trouble? No trouble. I just need your help with something… I have a collector in Raggunna’s City who needs a super computer. It has to be a Cray. A late model Cray"

"You’re filthy rich, why don’t you just buy him one?"

"It’s not that easy," Vidd admitted sheepishly. "There are people watching me."

"People? Which people? The Americans?" Gell stopped instantly. Vidd was not worried about the primitives, not at all. Earthly authorities never spooked him before. Somebody on Orr was wise to him. Gell could see it in his shifty, truthless eyes.

"You know as well as I that buying one of these things doesn’t happen in a vacuum. The Feds track that kind of thing, the like to know who's using them and for what."

"So, you want me to steal one for you ¾ huh," Gell said matter of factly. "Is that it?"

"I wouldn’t use those words exactly, but yes, I suppose... If that’s what it takes."

Gell accessed his notepad. "Let me see, Cray... Hmmm... Cray Research. Founder, Seymour Cray ¾ died in 1996 in an auto accident. Purchased by Silicon Graphics in the late nineties… Facilities in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin; Minneapolis, Minnesota; Colorado Springs, Colorado. At one point, makers of the most powerful computer on Earth." He pulled up a list of all known whereabouts of active Cray units around the world and slowly shook his head.

"Is there a problem?" Vidd asked anxiously.

"The problem is, Vidd, these are the sorts of things that would be noticed if one suddenly turned up missing."

"Well, what can we do? There’s got to be a way to get our hands on one."

"When do you need it by?"

"I’m going to Earth in ten days."

***

Time seemed to stand still in the deep jungle. Ageless spindle trees swayed lazily in the gentle breeze as if fanning away the heat of the day. It was a short distance from the clearing to the tree that was to be the future home of Dakkalia. The snarled brush was waist high having overgrown the path he carved out two years ago. He had not been here since the day the hunt for the Renegade began. He missed this place tremendously.

He fought his way through a thicket of nuberry shoots before catching a glimpse of Dakk’s magnificent tree. It stood at least forty men tall, and it's bulge as wide as twenty men laid end to end. It looked as solid as a mountain. He could hardly wait for Dakk to see it again.

He walked around it at first; visually inspecting it for roundness. It had developed nicely. He grabbed one of the tensioners and tested it for integrity. Hand over hand he scaled up the cable. At the top, where the tensioner was strapped to the tree, he swung a leg around the trunk and climbed into the cage-like shell that would one day be the center of Dakkalia’s jungle home. Even without the walls it felt cozy and inviting. He inched his way down toward the crotch of the tree where all the individual trunks of the spindle tree coalesced into a huge base. He stopped abruptly... In the shadows below him something shimmered. He clicked on his palmlight and pointed it into the darkness. A pair of eyes stared back at him. They were the eyes of a serpent. It flicked it’s forked tongue once and turned away, seemingly unconcerned with this puny intruder. It’s girth, Soll estimated, matched the circumference of his own leg and extrapolating from that he guessed it to be nearly five men long. He smiled, "that’s far enough," he said aloud. "I believe the tensioners need inspection." The tensioners, all thirty-six of them, were located outside the tree.

In ancient times ropes were used to pull outward on the spindles. The slow, methodical process required regular visits to re-torque the tensioners. In his quest to give his son the full experience of forging his own home he insisted that Dakk form the tree the traditional way, using authentic tensioners rather than self-inflating bladders and growth hormones. By twisting their own rope from the plentiful baynai vine and greasing the pulleys with buui paste every aspect of the process was authentic. Still, Dakk was unimpressed and didn’t relish the constant tweaking the hand made tensioners required. Soon after, Soll quietly installed modern self-adjusting tensioners. Not another word was said about it. In reflection the whole process seemed so much more romantic when he was a young boy forming his own tree in the foothills of Terrekka’s plateau.

Working on the tree was a labor of love for him. In the peace of jungle he could be away from all the distractions that infected his mind in the city. The work also had a practical side. Dakk would be released from quarantine in a matter of days and would need a place to hide away for a while. The wave reporters and the young girls would never find him here.
Suddenly a transporter whisked by flying very low. There were no proximity restrictions out here. Dakk’s site hadn't been registered with the Network and few people even knew of its existence. Therefore, Soll concluded with a smile, it could be only one person. Gellseno had arrived.
He liked the Gell immensely, the boy was a delight to be around, but there were times he just wanted to pick him up and shake him. He asked Gell to be discreet, to take a less than direct route to this place. A simple request actually, or was it? Moments later, from beyond the thicket, he heard something crashing through the underbrush with all the grace of a five-legged rootbeast. Soll laughed to himself. Any semblance of discretion was lost. What the boy lacked in common sense was more than made up for with his stunning intellect and uncommon expertise of all that was Earthly. He was a bright, young, idealistic lad. There was a lot to like about him. Above all, he was loyal. Gellseno was someone he could trust, untainted by the likes of Larrvino and that rat, Viddelio. He felt clean when he was around the boy.

He could hear Gell calling out to him. The words slapped off the trees obscuring the message. It seemed that he was slightly off course. "Over here!" Soll shouted.

"What?"

Gell was heading straight for the swamp. "Stop! Turn around! There’s a..."

There was a scream and a splash followed by more screams. Soll grabbed the medscanner from his shoulder bag and ran. Using his bare arm as a blade he crashed his way through the brush toward the source of the screams.

Gell’s arms flailed helplessly above the water line. Soll quickly located a dead baynai vine down and dropped it into the water. With two good jerks, he pulled the boy out.

"Take your clothes off quickly!" ordered Soll.

"Wha...?"

"Just do it!"

Gell pulled his soggy tunic over his head revealing a body crawling with chromatic skin suckers, many of which had already matched the color of his skin. He looked at Soll in disbelief. He held his hands up only to find his arms and hands were crawling with them too. He screamed. Soll began waving the scanner over his head and body. With the medscanner emitting a frequency that was lethal to the parasites they began to drop to the forest floor. Soon, all that was left were the red lesions the suckers left behind.

"Come with me," Soll said, "I’ve got a change of clothes in my bag you can wear until these dry off." At the base of the tree Soll offered the boy dry clothes. He hung Gell's wet ones over the tension cable to dry in the soft breeze.

"I apologize, sir. I feel like a fool." Gell admitted quietly.

"Think nothing of it. Why do you think I carry extra clothes and knew the exact frequency to set the scanner at?"

Gell looked in the direction of the swamp. "You?"

"Lost a lot of blood that day. It was a long time ago in a different place, but a lesson well learned." Gell nodded in agreement then furrowed his brow. "What?" Soll queried.

"Why am I even in this wretched jungle, anyway? You have a perfectly good place on the plateau. This place is..."

"...Free of prying eyes, private, remote... Need I say more?"

"I understand... So tell me now why you’ve dragged me out here?"

Soll looked down momentarily and shuffled his feet. "First, you must promise me that you’ll tell no one about this conversation." He waited for Gell to nod in agreement. "I need your help with something.... How much do you know about the Renegade?"

"The Renegade is my idol."

"Your what?" Soll asked.

"Figuratively speaking - listen, whoever it is they must know more about Earth than any Orrian alive. You people all think I’m the expert..." The boy shook his head back and forth, "you need to talk to the Renegade."

"You’re right. That’s exactly what I need. You must also be aware that for two years I’ve been unsuccessful at bringing the Renegade in."

"I’m not surprised. I don’t think anybody could."

"That’s where you’re wrong, Gell. You’re going to."

"Me!"

Soll smiled broadly. "In fact, you’re the only one who can. You said it yourself, the Renegade must know more about Earth than anyone. If you're right that clearly makes you second most knowledgeable on the subject."

Gell was speechless. This is not what he expected when Soll invited him out here. "I guess so," he finally eked out. "So, if what you say is true, and I’m not saying it is, what am I supposed to do when and if I do find the Renegade?"

"Give the Renegade this." Soll produced the Earth-made diskette from his pocket. "I need the Renegade to get this into the hands of Julia Rayhied."

"But... The Earth Doctrine... That would be physical contact. Not even the Renegade has violated the contact provision of the Earth Doctrine."
"I’m aware of that. But it’s time to now. In part because of the Renegade’s activity, but there’s something else now. Something that’s going to change everything..."

Gell shook his head. "You must mean the Sirenese?"

"Yes, I do. We now know that the human form exists throughout the galaxy. Earth is no longer unique. In years to come I fear we will find that Earth is the least of our worries." The boy nodded in agreement. "Then you’ll do it?"

"I’ll try. As long as you realize I can not guarantee success."

"Of course. I have utmost confidence in your ability. I’ve made up a list of probable suspects. Perhaps you even know some of them, they are mostly students or mentors from the institute." He held out his portacon for Gell to see.

Gell began to laugh. "Jeddetto," he roared, "not likely. And Kevverra, Dellecco, not in a million years. Where did you get this list?"

Feeling completely inadequate as an investigator in the presence of Gell’s mockery, he pulled his portacon back. "I compiled it from an exhaustive probe," Soll replied defensively. "How can you dismiss them so easily?"

"These people..." Gell explained, "all have one thing the Renegade does not. If you did the research on these people I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it."

"Pick up on what?"

"These people all have egos," Gell declared. "Surely you see that. The Renegade can not have an ego or the point is lost."

Soll's mind drifted back in time to a young man so intent on rattling the cage that personal motives were beyond consideration. As the original Renegade, he never wanted to be any kind of leader. The Renegade was a symbol, the embodiment of the collective guilt shared by every Orrian, a constant reminder of an unpleasant reality. From the warmth and comfort of the oasis called Orr they could only watch helplessly the width and breadth of human suffering on Earth, forbidden by law to step in and ease the pain.

***

By the time Gell’s clothes had dried twilight was upon them. Soll offered him a ride to his idled transporter on the far side of the swamp. Gell readily accepted. Soll expertly positioned his craft over the waiting transporter and Gell jumped onto the top. When his feet struck the deck of the vehicle the transporter wobbled slightly. Slow responding inertia dampeners caused the transporter to tip too far to one side. It was just enough for Gell to lose his footing and slide off into the thicket. Soll resisted the urge to laugh until he could see that Gell was all right. He waved to the boy while suppressing his smile and sped off leaving the walking mishap known as Gellseno to find his way home.

Unhurt by the fall and eager to leave the miserable jungle, Gell quickly extended the ramp and began to climb into the transporter. Much to his surprise, he was not alone. "Councilmember Sebb… Sebbreba!" he stammered. "What are you doing way out here? How did you get in here? This transporter is registered to me."

"The infamous Gellseno," she exclaimed breathlessly. "At last, we meet." She bowed before him. "I come to you on an important mission. I seek your help."

"Mission? What kind of mission?"

She pulled him into the cabin. "Come with me," she said seductively. She guided him to the long bench and softly urged him to sit. "We are very concerned about Sollalia and we know you’ve been in contact with him. In fact, you’re the only one he’s spoken to in months."

"Who’s we?"

"Soll’s friends, of course." Her leg was touching his; a fact he could not ignore. He could feel the pull of her fragrance. The pangs of desire lured him closer and closer to her body until their faces were only inches apart. "We are worried about him," she whispered. "We were hoping you could help us shed some light on his activities..." She began running her fingers through his thick black hair. "A simple, you help me, and I’ll help you sort of thing."

"Well... I... Can’t really say. I mean... Ahh..." He felt her hand rubbing his thigh. "I’ve given him my word..." He saw her gaze down at the growing bulge between his legs.

"I admire that in a man," she purred. "Loyalty, I mean."

He could stand no more. He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her lips to his. She offered no resistance. Her hands began exploring the fasteners of his tunic; his hands rendered assistance. When his body lay bare before her she curiously fingered the welts on his chest. ‘What are all these?’ she had asked. ‘A long story,’ he answered, offering no further explanation. He helped remove her clothing revealing a pair of ample breasts. He cupped them in his hands and cooed. She arched her back, offering them up for his pleasure. When his lips touched her nipple he felt her body shudder in his hands.

Suddenly he began to feel dizzy. The cabin was spinning wildly around him. When his eyes finally regained focus he found himself lying paralyzed on the floor, and Sebb was doing nothing to help him. He could see only her bare ankles as she stepped over him. He could hear her move around the cabin as if looking for something. He wanted to scream but nothing would come out. He heard the door open behind him. She stood over him and with her leg she began to roll his naked body across the floor. He alternately saw the ceiling then the floor as his useless arms flopped around under him. At once he was airborne until he came to rest on the forest floor with a resounding thud. A moment later his clothes and portacon joined him in the waist-high brush. He detected the charge of an anti-matter field and in a blink the transporter was gone.

He felt no pain. The drug, whatever it was, acted as an anesthetic as well as an immobilizer. For the time being he was not in any physical pain. The same could not be said for his deeply bruised ego. He had been used ¾ used by the most beautiful woman in the world, and to what end? He didn’t have a clue. She had used her charms to get him into a vulnerable position and then struck without warning. Still, he could not wish her any ill will. He smiled inwardly, he was actually proud of himself. For a single moment the stunningly beautiful Sebbreba lay naked in his arms. For that solitary instant in time she was his and he was hers. Surely it was love.
What kind of love was this that left him pitiful and helpless in the deep jungle? How quickly fear replaced love's afterglow of he could not tell, but as soon as he found that all warmth had left him he knew death could not be far behind.

He found the hectic sounds of the nocturnal jungle strangely soothing. His motionless body had thus far gone unnoticed by the local denizens. This, he knew, would change. He had no sense of time but as he watched the sky grow slowly darker and darker he realized the glory of the morning and the safety of the cleansing sun was a long way off. He wondered if death would be swift and painless or a lingering nightmare. He prayed for the former.

The racket in the trees all around him stopped suddenly. The abrupt silence was deafening. He struggled desperately to turn his head, to scan his surroundings, but only his eyes would move. His ears, more acute than ever before, studied the rhythm of the jungle. From the north, directly behind him, something scurried through the weeds. Probably ground vermin, he mused, nothing to fear from them. He remembered hearing tales of a killer that makes no sound when it strikes. The stealthy rigacat could be lurking inches away and he would never even know it. It was probably better that way.

More sounds... Something was coming his way. Some distance away he heard something thrashing through the brush. What ever was coming toward him wasn’t alone. A herd of rootbeasts, perhaps? Getting trampled to death was preferable to being eaten alive.

Just as he thought he heard voices in the shadows he detected the unmistakable sensation of a collapsing anti-matter field. A transporter had landed nearby. "He’s over here," a voice called. "Is the cat gone?" yelled another. "They’re chasing it away with sticks," came the muted reply.
His view changed. He was now being carried through the dense underbrush. "Throw him in here," said Larrvino pitiless voice. Gell sensed his body had gone airborne again, but this time he landed face down on the floor of a transporter cabin. "Well, well," Larr said, "will you look at this." Larr’s men rolled Gell’s naked body over and they all laughed at the pathetic sight. "Give him the antidote," Larr ordered. One of the men squirted a hypo-spray into his nostrils and instantly his body came to life again. "Now get up!" Larr demanded.

As the effects of the immobilizer wore off the pain became excruciating. Gell was cut and bruised all over. Finally, standing erect he became reacquainted with the fact that he was bare from head to toe. Larr made a motion with his hand and someone handed Gell his clothes. There was silence in the cabin as Gell slipped his tunic over his head. Someone handed him a rag to wipe the blood off his face. Using the shiny cabin wall as a mirror he dabbed the dried blood from his forehead and chin.

Larr frowned. "How did you manage to find yourself way out here, drugged up and naked?"

Gell said nothing at first. He wasn’t gathering his thoughts as much as he was resigning to the fact that the truth was so fantastic not even he would believe it. To even try to explain would be an exercise in futility. "Let’s just say a little game I was playing went badly... How did you find me out here, anyway?"

"Your portacon was emitting an emergency beacon. A beacon set to my wave address only. So, you’re telling me I rushed out here for some stupid, juvenile game. I should’ve let the rigacat have you..."

Gell pulled the disk from his pocket and smiled as he held it up: "Not stupid or juvenile, I got the disk, just like you wanted." Larr snatched it from his hand and examined closely as if it was somehow going to tell him something.

"Well, what’s on it?" Larr demanded impatiently. "Can you make it work?"
"I’ll need to fabricate something that can decode it..."

"Just shut up and do it!"

A few moments later, preparing to be exonerated, Gell proudly produced the image of Sollalia from the disk. He turned to Larr and smiled. For once he would have the last word.

"We’ve got him now!" Larr crowed. With his fist clenched in victory, he watched in horror as Soll’s image morphed into Sebbreba. "What's this?"

"What’s the matter, Larr, dear? Expecting someone else?"

"You! How?"

"Don’t be so shocked. You didn’t expect us to sit by and watch you destroy him, did you?"

"Where’s the disk?" Larr demanded. He spun toward Gell and glared. "I thought you put a tracer on that thing!"

"Oh, he did, Larr. The same one as I put on twenty other disks you’ll find scattered around the world. As smart as the boy genius is, he didn’t make the tracer peerless. It was not difficult to replicate. Really, Larr, you shouldn’t send a boy to do a mans job."

Gell was stung by her comment. It hurt because she was right. The tracer was completely generic; it had not occurred to him to mask it. Twice now she had embarrassed him. There would not be a third time. "I’ll get it back," he exclaimed with an acid tongue, "if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll get it back."

"You’re wrong," Larr said sarcastically. "It will be the first thing you do."

Chapter 8

2004-12-21T19:25:00.000-08:00

Chapter Eight

"They’re here," Sandy Buerger said quietly. "Christ, she looks like a deer caught in the headlights."

"Has Glenn said anything to her yet?" asked the President.

"He’s been instructed not to," Sandy replied smartly, not taking her eyes off the couple seated outside the Oval Office. The President's chief of staff could feel her boss peering over her shoulder through the door she held slightly ajar.

"God, she’s even more beautiful than the first time I met her," said Libby Cole.

Liberty Ellen Cole was the first woman in the nation’s history to be elected to the highest office in the land. She sailed into Washington on the crest of a public retaliation against government waste and corruption. It had been a landslide, the Cole / Phelps ticket winning 41 states and an impressive 59% of the popular vote. The honeymoon lasted exactly one year. Coming off popular legislative victories to reign in the IRS, overhaul Human Services, reverse the trade imbalance and continue the fight against Islamic terrorism Libby Cole was riding high in the polls before the wheels began to come off.

When the UFO’s began lighting up the skies and the nightly news shows the President paid scant attention to it. The whole UFO phenomenon had ebbed and flowed for decades why should she think this cycle would be any different. The official line coming out of the White House simply parroted what ever the Pentagon said. As the frequency and the intensity of the sightings continued to grow, pressure was mounted from all sides for the President to address the issue. Still, nothing came out of the White House. All press conferences and "impromptu" media events were always prefaced with warnings forbidding the asking of UFO questions. Leaders of every nation for all intents and purposes marched in lockstep behind the President. The Internet was on fire with conspiracy theories and mad speculation of the end of the world. The networks devoted several hours a day to a variety of shows on UFO’s, including a weekly newsmagazine called S.E.T.I.’s Universe. All the major religions of the world pointed to it as evidence of the coming of judgment day. Still, the President said nothing.

They said she and her family were not in the White House when it happened, and that none of the first family saw it. Everyone in the world near a TV that day saw it, but they said the President did not. Everyone in the world would remember for as long as they lived exactly where they were the day the UFO landed on the White House lawn. It stayed there for exactly 13 minutes and then vanished. It was caught on countless home video cameras and FOX had a camera broadcasting worldwide by the seven minute mark. The President, after viewing the tapes, citing the way the image vanished so abruptly, said it was merely an elaborate illusion, a magic trick and a criminal investigation was ordered. Liberty Cole’s popularity vanished that day as well. Re-election now seemed an impossible dream. Desperation was beginning to set in. She would need a miracle to turn her political fortunes around. She believed that miracle was at this very minute sitting just outside her door.

"Well, boys," the President began, "what’s the latest?"

"Well," John Carvin said hesitantly, "We still haven’t nailed it yet but we’ve got a good idea where it is."

"What’s the problem?" she asked her old friend from Alabama. "Is it there or isn’t it? Why is this thing so hard to find?" The man from Birmingham merely raised his eyebrows.

"It’s the damnedest thing, Mrs. President," Hunter McCloud said stepping in to fill the void. McCloud was the director of the NSA. He had been there long before Libby Cole arrived in Washington and would be there long after she left. "What ever it is, it doesn’t reflect radar of any kind. So far we haven’t detected any infrared silhouette, nothing. Like I said, it’s the damnedest thing."

"Well, you must have some idea," the President injected sharply. "Clearly our rivals do."

"According to the best intelligence we have no one has any better fix on this than we do." Hunter McCloud explained calmly. "All we do know, and this has been corroborated by our team on the Global Array staff, it appears to be in geosynchronous orbit some 23,000 miles up, sitting some where between Galaxy 11 and G-Star 17."

The President walked around the desk and sat down inviting the others to sit around her. "Let’s talk, shall we." She waited until all were situated. Sandy Buerger sat to her immediate left with Carvin and McCloud. Bert Mackay, the pentagon’s spokesman, was on her right with the two empty chairs reserved for their visitors. "I want your honest opinions, gentlemen. Is it ‘THEM’?" She said with her eyes tilted skyward. "Are they initiating some sort of contact?"

"I don’t know?" Bert Mackay offered first, "but, I can tell you that Glenn Stratton believes it’s them. I also can tell you unequivocally, it is not the Russians. We’ve intercepted several encrypted transmissions inside Russia indicating they’re scared shitless that we’ve got some super technology."
"As for THEM initiating contact," Hunter McCloud said, "I think we can rule that out."

"Why?" asked the President.

"They’ve been here for decades, who knows, maybe even centuries for that matter. Why would they choose now to show themselves?"
"What do you mean, now? They’ve been buzzing us relentlessly for two years."

Bert Mackay shifted in his chair and cleared his throat. "The first military reports go back to the Second World War. In fact, the activity in the southwest back then rivals what we’ve seen these last few years. Culminating, of course, in the crash near Roswell."

"That’s what started this whole mess, " Libby Cole added sarcastically. "If you guys had come clean when it happened you wouldn’t have me backed into a corner today, fighting for my political life."

"You can thank Harry Truman for that," McCloud remarked coldly. "And he was absolutely right. He could have done nothing else. He was so worried about the Soviets and the communists in this country that this thing was never going to see the light of day as long as he was alive. He was one of only four presidents who ever knew the real truth about the Roswell story."

"If Harry was one, and I’m one, who were the other two?"

McCloud smiled as if recalling fond memories of presidents gone by. "They were Johnson and Reagan... LBJ was intrigued with it immediately. He understood the absolute need to keep it secret. He wanted desperately to contact them. He thought if he could strike a pact with the visitors he could crush the Soviets and the Red Chinese. Hell, it was Johnson who jump started the whole space program."

"I thought Kennedy did."

"Kennedy made the speech, that’s what Kennedy did, " McCloud said sarcastically. "Why do you think it’s called the Johnson Space Center and why is it located in Houston and not Massachusetts? Kennedy took the ball and made it his own. Johnson was plenty pissed off about it, though he never admitted it publicly. When he took office after the assassination he pushed NASA hard. It wasn’t until after the ‘64 election did he start worrying about how was going to be perceived by the visitors. He came to the conclusion, the right one in my opinion, that they didn’t want contact with him or anybody else. Still, he knew they were watching him, judging him. He felt the need to be perceived as a good anti-Communist and a poverty fighter."

"And we got the Vietnam War and the Great Society. Both miserable failures," Libby Cole said. "What about Reagan?" She continued. "Why was he let in and not Carter or Ford?"

"The seventies killed us. The recession of the late seventies and early eighties tightened the purse strings. Glenn Stratton’s budget was slashed to the bone. He needed money badly. NASA could no longer funnel money his way like they did before. After Apollo, as you know, NASA took a political nosedive. We needed Reagan to keep us alive. He, too, was fascinated by it. The more fantastic we made it sound the more money he ‘found’ for us. He was dead serious about it. When we told him we wanted the Global Array, SDI was born. Hell, he laughed when they began calling it Star Wars. His enemies had no idea how close that moniker was to the truth." McCloud giggled softly and shook his head. "I’m telling you, the whole time he was president we were just frozen with fear."

"What do mean?"

"Do you remember the famous Star Wars speech? God, I suppose it was back in ‘82 or ‘83, where he almost spilled the beans..." McCloud stopped and looked around. Of all the faces in the room his was the only one left from those days. "...Well, anyway, he was making his case for the SDI anti-missile defense system, pounding the podium, stirring up the rhetoric. He spoke of the need to eventually share the technology with all the nations of the Earth. Then he looked up toward the sky and referred to ‘THEM’. We couldn’t believe it. We thought it was over. Level 5 disaster plans were set into motion. The next day the liberals were so consumed with their horror over the very concept of space based weapons that the comment was very nearly overlooked. Oh, a few savvy reporters picked up on it but by then Reagan’s handlers simple countered it by saying the President was referring to nuclear missiles raining down us." McCloud wiped his hand across his brow and feigned a sigh. "Don’t get me wrong, we all loved Reagan dearly, but he scared the hell out of us."

"So, tell me Hunter... Bert, why was I let in?"

The two of them looked at each other, waiting for the other to start. Finally, Hunter McCloud turned and faced the President. "We had no choice, really. Believe me it would have been much easier not to divulge the secrets of the NSA to you or any of the presidents. We couldn’t live through another Ronald Reagan, too nerve racking. However, the UFO activity of the last two years sort of forced our hand."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Because of the type of person you are... You would have come looking for the answers."

"The way Clinton did?"

McCloud laughed. "Clinton was scared shitless of the NSA. He had so many skeletons in the closet that he knew if he put the pressure on us we would have had him breaking rocks in a federal penitentiary before his first term was up. No, Mrs. President, you are a different kind of person. You were someone who could be trusted, someone understood the reasons for keeping tightlipped."

The President smirked. "You know what I think? I think you guys needed a goddamn scapegoat that's what I think. All this UFO stuff and these shows on television have got you scared. How convenient for you that I take the heat. The problem for me is, you were right all along. You knew damn well that I would not blab to the American people what I know. At this point I’d come off as the worst kind of liar. But I will not watch my presidency go down in flames just to cover you jackasses. So, I guess it’s time for damage control, gentlemen. Sandy, bring in our guests..."

***

For the second time in as many weeks Julia found herself in Washington DC. For the second time it was on the invitation of the President. The event repeated itself just as Andy Gable had predicted. Within two days stories were all over the Internet about the anomaly. The major news outlets were reporting on it by the third day. The administration needed to respond and they were relying on Glenn and his friends to make a recommendation. Julia didn't know how she fit into the scenario but she knew it would somehow lead to the truth.

Everyone stood as they walked into the room. Everybody’s eyes were upon her. She recognized John Carvin and the President’s Chief of Staff, Sandy Buerger, having met both of them before. The President’s smile beamed as she walked around the desk to greet them. Her Alabama smile as genuine as southern sunshine. "Glenn, nice to see you again," she said in passing, her sparkling eyes transfixed on Julia. "And Miss Rayhied, I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you again."

"The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. President."

"Unfortunately we didn’t have much of an opportunity to talk the first time we met... Please, come in, the both of you, and have a seat." Everyone took their seats as the President stood and introduced the players. "Julia, I’m sure you know Mr. Carvin..." Julia nodded silently. She had met Carvin on the set having interviewed him several times for the show. "John and I go way back to the Alabama state house. Damn it John, you make me feel old when I think back that far. But we’re glad to have him here with us heading up NASA at this crucial time. To your left is Bert Mackay, our man at the Pentagon." Mackay nodded a simple acknowledgment. "And to your right is Mr. Hunter McCloud, the director of the NSA."

He towered over as he stood. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Rayhied," he said extending his huge right hand to her. She politely accepted. " I love the show. Watch it every week."

She felt a sudden, overwhelming rush. She was used to the attention, in fact, had grown to accept it as normal. This, honestly, was not normal. Not everyday was one invited to sit in the Oval Office with the President of the United States and her closest advisors. Her palm felt clammy as she released Hunter McCloud’s giant hand.

"Well, Julia, Glenn, we might as well just get to the point," The President said bluntly, her voice ringing with parental overtones. "We’ve got trouble, and I think we all know what it is. To date we’ve had a three unpedicted cosmic events that no one can adequately explain. Am I right so far?" The President was treated to a chorus of nods. "Now, while not ruling out anything, we must consider that this may be the work of alien intelligence. Again, I reiterate, no one here is completely convinced of anything." She saw Glenn smiling out of the corner of her eye. "All right then, maybe one of us is. Politically, realistically, the window of opportunity to act is very short. In other words, we make a move now or we plan to hunker down... We do know this: the Russians have pulled their Buran prototype space shuttle out of mothballs. They plan to fly it!"

"They can’t do that?" Glenn said spontaneously. "I mean... I thought the Buran was a stinking tourist attraction now."

"It is," Bert Mackay answered sharply. "You’re talking about the one that actually flew. They’ve got a prototype in complete working order, but has never flown. This morning’s reconnaissance photo’s show pre-launch activity at their Omsk facility."

"How soon could they launch?" asked Glenn.

Mackay smiled. "If all goes well... A week. But we’re talking about the Russians." He held up two fingers. "Minimum."

"That’s not all," continued President Cole. "The ESA is as quiet as a church mouse today, and like the Russians, their African facility shows activity where there was none yesterday. People, our friends and allies are going up there to get a look at this thing. Not to mention the good folks from Iran, China, Israel and Japan, all with serious launch capabilities."
"What’s the objective?" Glenn asked. "Identify it? Bring it back? Tag it for further study?’"

"Frankly, I don’t know. I do know this: whatever it is, we cannot let it fall into the hands of our enemies. Am I clear? It is imperative that we all understand this. It is my decision and no one else’s whether or not we launch the shuttle Patriot... And it is my decision to launch at the earliest possible moment. John, I want you to get going on this immediately..."

"I have some questions," Julia said as John Carvin stood up to leave.

"Yes, Julia," said the President. "Go ahead."

Everyone was looking at her as if she had some great and ponderous point to make. She smiled briefly. "The Patriot? I thought the shuttle had a range of 250 to 300 miles. I understand the intended target is 23,000 miles out."

"That’s right," Carvin answered quickly. "Typically, that is the range the shuttle was designed for. In the design, however, there’s been an auxiliary fuel tank system developed that fits inside the cargo bay. It acts as an afterburner, if you will, when spent the tanks are then jettisoned to be picked up by a later mission. It’s liquid cooled with it’s own internal system that is completely independent of the shuttles power system, therefore it uses none of the shuttles resources. It’s very clever, actually."
"And how has that worked?" Julia said, her eyebrows raised in anticipation.

"Well... It’s never actually been tried before... But the simulations..."

The room fell silent before Liberty Cole stood up to formally dismiss John Carvin. "Is there anything else, Julia?" she asked.

"There is one thing. Why are you telling me all this? Why am I here?"

"Yes, of course," said the President, "I suppose this is quite odd coming from your point of view. The truth is we need you. The country needs you. To be perfectly blunt, Julia, I need you."

"You need me?"

"Yes, Miss Rayhied, I need you. Now please, hear me out. I’d like to explain. By making the decision to launch I create for myself a real credibility problem. As you know we have taken a beating in the mainstream media about our stance on UFO activity. We’ve taken this stance after careful consideration. Getting pounded daily by UFO crowd is not something we enjoy. We grin and bear it because we really have no other choice. You see we don’t know what the hell is going on anymore than you do. Now, would you think us very wise if we came right out and said it? A nation, like an army, needs to believe that the generals know exactly what’s going on at all times. And like an army when the soldiers quit believing in their leaders the battle is over. The war is lost. We are the leaders of the free world; the other nations depend on us to be strong, we must continue to be dependable. Do you get my point?" Julia sat motionless letting her eyes answer the Presidents rhetorical questions. "I’d be lying if I told you I liked my chances for reelection next year. Right now, frankly, I don’t need another hit in the polls. Unfortunately, eventually, I am going to have explain to the American people why I’ve decided to launch the shuttle. I’ll be admitting this government believes in all this UFO stuff..."

"Do you?" Julia asked. At first the President said nothing. Julia shot a glance at Glenn as if asking him if she’d said something wrong.

"Honestly, I just don’t know what I believe. Yes, I’ve seen the videos, Yes, I’ve watched your show and the others. The truth is I have yet to see any real evidence, real physical evidence. Videos can be faked. I need something I can hold in my hand."

Something did not smell right, thought Julia. Either the President was a liar or she was being kept in the dark as well. Her hand slipped into to her jacket pocket and wrapped around a shiny little object given to her by Jerry Baines. Was it possible that they shielded the President from the whole truth as well?

"I think what the President is saying," Sandy Buerger interjected, "is that we, as an administration, have to be careful about what face we put on this very tricky situation. And we hope to be able to count on your support."

"By all means," Julia responded. "I’d consider it an honor to help, ma’am. After all, I did vote for you..." She looked and smiled at Glenn. "All our friends did."

"Well, I appreciate that. And I must concur with what Sandy just said; we really must be careful as to what face we put on this... And that brings me to the point of your being here today. We’d like to put your face on it, Julia."

"What does that mean?"

"We’d like to nominate you for an ambassadorship."

"Ambassador? Ambassador to what? To where?"

"To space, the final frontier, Ambassador to the Universe... I don’t know. Come up with your own title if you’d like."

"Why me?" said the stunned twenty-six year old. "Why not someone with some diplomatic experience?"

"Experience with what? Aliens?" quipped Sandy Buerger. "The truth is, Julia you’re absolutely perfect for the job. You are the star of the most popular TV show in America. A show that is seen by hundreds of millions world wide, a show who’s premise is to search out this very phenomena, a show that has not attacked this administration or the President with baseless innuendo like the rest of the media."

Julia smiled at her boss once again. "We’ve tried to keep politics out of it."
"That’s probably why the show is so popular," laughed the President. "Listen, I want you to think about it, mull it over. It’ll be your decision and we’ll accept whatever you tell us. Just remember this my friend; the country needs you. The opportunity to serve your country in a profound way awaits this decision."

For a split second she felt wholly manipulated. The President of the United States of America seemed poised on the verge of begging. The whole thing seemed a staged act to wow and dazzle her using the ambient power of the Oval Office in the west wing of the White House to weaken her knees. Her head was spinning. Then she thought of her duty, not to her country, not to her President, but her duty to find the truth. Her duty to expose the murderers of Jerry Baines’ family. She looked at Glenn. He smiled a phony sympathetic smile and she knew he had been in on this from the start. She thought back to something Jerry Baines had eluded to: if Glenn Stratton wants it, then it points like a compass needle to the truth. Her decision was made.

"I have one question." Julia said, her voice raised in suspicion.

"Go ahead, ask anything," said the President glibly, sensing victory.

"Is this whole thing a cheap campaign ploy, a crass PR move? Or is it a serious effort to find the truth? Because I will not trivialize myself for a few votes."

"And I would never ask you to do that."

"I think what she’s asking," interrupted Glenn, "...are you using this as window dressing or do you intend to fully honor this position that you would bestow upon her?"

"Oh, honey, I’m sorry if I’ve given you that impression. Believe me, I have never been more serious in my life."

"I accept that, thank you." Julia said with a sigh. "Now, if I were to take this position what would my duties be? Would we have an embassy?" she shrugged her shoulders. "Has any of this been thought out?"

Her questions were met with stony silence. She scanned the faces in the room waiting for a response. Finally Glenn leaned forward in his chair and looked directly in her eyes. "We want you to go up there." She followed his eyes as he raised them skyward. "In the shuttle."

"What?" she said breathlessly. She smiled broadly hoping to elicit the laughter that would surely accompany such a grand farce. It did not happen. "You’re joking, right?"

"Actually," said the President, "we couldn’t be more serious. I know it sounds a bit crazy..."

"A bit crazy! It’s not ‘a bit’ anything. It’s totally insane. I’m no astronaut... Hell, I’m no diplomat, and now you want me to be both!"

"Want is the wrong word. We need you to be both." The president stood up and motioned her chief of staff to stand also. "Sandy... Gentlemen, could you excuse us? I would like to talk to Miss Rayhied alone for a minute." Sandy Buerger frowned at the President but obediently led the men out of the room.

When they were finally alone in the Oval Office the President motioned Julia to sit on the couch. "Bear with me a second," she said as she pulled the drapes over each of the windows. She then walked to the desk and pulled out the top drawer. Music suddenly filled the room. It was turned up loud. The President said nothing until she was sitting next to Julia on the couch. She leaned forward and with her body language invited Julia to do the same. "I don’t want anybody listening to us, if you know what I mean."

It became all too clear to Julia. Not even the President was safe from the reach of the insiders. She suddenly understood who really ran the place. A president was merely the White House caretaker in modern America.
"I wanted to talk to you alone because there are things they won’t tell you that you deserve to know."

"I appreciate that," Julia replied, her curiosity rising proportional to her suspicions.

"First, I want you to know that everything that was said in this room was absolutely true. If there is an alien presence in the world they have made no overtures to this or any other government that we know of. However, the powers that be know more than they’re telling you or me. They dish out just enough to satisfy my curiosity for the moment. The one thing I do know for certain is that they take this UFO stuff very seriously. They’ve spent a lot of money and told a lot of lies suppressing the truth. They've been spreading rumors for decades to mask reality. They’d have you believe that the President and her family didn’t see the UFO that landed on the White House lawn. Well, the truth is I did see it. So did John and little Marty. Hell, the dog saw it too. Only they told us we couldn’t tell any one we saw it. It would cause too much panic and public consternation they said. That’s the kind of lies they like to tell. Tell me, do you know what the Global Array is for?"

"I thought I did," Julia admitted, "but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me something different."

"Indeed. It started out as a key part of the SDI anti-missile defense system."

"But it wasn’t solely for tracking nuclear missiles was it?"

"No, but the cold war justified it’s existence quite nicely. When the cold war ended and SDI failed to materialize the way Reagan had proposed it something had to be done to save the array from being buried with ‘Star Wars’ on the scrap heap of history. Under the first George Bush it was quietly repackaged as a scientific tool to benefit all of mankind and construction never lost a beat."

"Until Clinton."

"That’s right. After Bush was defeated and the Republicans were out of Washington it was all the media could do to keep from falling over themselves to aid the new administration in pillaging anything that had Ronald Reagan’s mark on it."

"The Global Array?"

"Oh yeah, they publicly yanked the funding because he knew it was tied to the SDI system and his cronies convinced him it would be an excellent political PR move with the Washington press. And it was. The Washington press always hated what Reagan stood for, but they were powerless to defy him while he was president. But the Global Array did not die then. It has been propped up by plenty of black budget money and private donations from concern citizens"

"I'm well aware of the secret annals of the project. You cannot work for Glenn Stratton and not know the history of the Global Array and it’s potential impact on scientific knowledge. And, of course, his undying gratitude for President Reagan."

The President laughed, "the man has a portrait of our fortieth president hanging above the mantle in his house, for God’s sake!" They both laughed for a time but the laughter faded quickly with the return of Julia’s expressionless face. "What is it, honey?" Libby Cole asked.

"Answer me this," Julia said tonelessly. "Why me? Really? What do I have to do with all this?"

"You are the only one," the President said directly. "The only one that makes any sense."

She couldn’t believe her ears. First, Jerry Baines put his thumb on her and now. How did she find herself in this mess? Yet, strangely, it all seemed so right, as if this scenario was always predestined to be. Somehow, her every experience up to this day were merely preparations for some ultimate purpose. Something led her to be in this place. Perhaps the same force that now charted her dreams at night. Dreams of a jungle paradise. Dreams of an emerald sky and a soft breeze. Dreams of a man and a boy she did not know and yet somehow knowing that they deeply loved her and she them. She noticed her hand had slipped into her jacket pocket again and was holding tightly a piece of her destiny.

***

Long shafts of sunlight pierced the darkness of her room. No matter, she thought, sleep had long since eluded her. She lay awake most of the night learning to accept the fact that her life as she knew it was over. The naive, innocent girl that stumbled onto the set of a cheesy cable show almost three years ago did not exist anymore. Instead, she found herself friendless in a mean city.

In fifteen minutes Glenn would be calling from his room. At this moment the good scientist was online with the Mountain View facility waiting faithfully for the fourth event. It would happen, she assured herself, just as Andy predicted. And it would happen again tomorrow morning and again the day after that. Like a beacon it would guide the mighty Patriot as it roared off the Florida launch pad. Julia Rayhied would be there, strapped in and riding on the breath of hell, hurling into the frozen silence of space.

She reached over to the nightstand for the TV remote. She clicked the power button and the set flashed to life filling the room with an iridescent glow. She mindlessly began clicking through the channels. One by one the channels flew by condensing into a single disjointed image. Wait! What was that? She quickly backtracked to the all news channel. There on the screen she saw herself. The footage was grainy but it was unmistakable. It was Glenn and herself walking into the White House. She turned up the volume to hear the reporter's voice over...

"DCTV has learned that television's Julia Rayhied was invited to a high level meeting with the President and her closest advisors. No one is commenting on what the purpose of such a meeting was, but there is speculation that it involves the strange occurrences in Earth’s orbit we have heard about from the alternative news sources..." Alternative news sources was the mainstream media’s code word for the UFO news shows. S.E.T.I.’s Universe was often the target of scorn by the traditional networks and newspaper conglomerates. "That’s not all we are hearing here in the nation’s capitol this morning. Sources are telling DCTV that reconnaissance photos over Russia reveal that the Russians are preparing an unscheduled launch of their version of the space shuttle. Still different sources tell us that the European Space Agency has also stepped up activity at their African launch facility where no launch was scheduled for at least eight weeks..."

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was as if this reporter had been sitting right next to her in that meeting. The dialogue was nearly word for word. Something was stinking to high heaven. Who was the rat? Hunter McCloud? Perhaps Bert Mackay was the informant, or maybe even John Carvin. What if it was the President herself? Perhaps she was applying some pressure of her own. Julia had sensed that the President had been forced to comply, to remain silent against her will and better judgment.

"... There has been no comment from NASA or the Air Force whether the US will launch a shuttle to investigate this UFO, if you will." On the screen flashed a clip of John Carvin leaving the White House surrounded by dozens of reporters. Countless microphones were shoved in his face. "... Mr. Carvin," yelled a reporter, "is it true NASA’s going to launch the shuttle Patriot to destroy the UFO?" __ "No comment," he declared in a calm manner. "President Cole will answer all your questions at her news conference later this morning..." __ "But, Mr. Carvin..." __ "That’s really all I have to say...."

The phone on the nightstand began to ring. She snatched it up before it could ring a second time. "Hello."

"Turn on Channel 13," Glenn said on the other end of the line.

"I’ve got it on."

"Can you believe this shit? Listen, I’ll be right over... Are you decent?"
"Yes, I’ve been up for hours. Come on over."

She waited at the door, looking out the peephole until she saw his shadow on the hallway floor she opened the door. He thrust the Washington Post in her face. It read:

UNIDENTIFIED OBJECT ORBITS THE EARTH
President to launch the shuttle Patriot to investigate

"How did this happen?" Julia asked in mock astonishment. "They didn’t waste any time after we left, did they?" She moved from the doorway inviting Glenn in with a wave of her arm.

"I would have warned you about it had I known," Glenn offered. She looked him in the eyes as if to say ‘really now’ . "You know I would have!"
"I believe you, Glenn. It’s those bastards..." she pointed at the TV set.

"...The President and her gang. Damn it, Glenn, she set me up, didn’t she? Sucked me in with her sweet southern charm. I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to."

"But you don’t want to say no, do you?"

She blushed and looked away. It was as if her father had caught her in a lie. "If I go it’s because I have a duty to uncover the truth once and for all. I told the President last night that I will not cheapen myself for a few lousy votes. It stinks what’s she’s doing. If I’m angry it’s because I walked right into it. I realize Liberty Cole has got to do what’s she’s got to do to win an election next year, and I... I’m here to find out the truth about the extraterrestrial presence on the Earth."

"It’s as simple as that, isn’t it?" Glenn offered with a smile. The phone rang behind him. "Let me get that," he insisted. He picked up the phone and said nothing. He handed over the phone to Julia. "It’s the White House." Julia reluctantly took the phone from him and slowly raised it to her ear. Ten seconds later, without having uttered a word, she handed the phone back to Glenn. "Well," he said with wide-eyed anticipation, "what did she say?"

"She said she was glad to have me aboard and I’d better get my tail to Florida. They’re sending a car by now. We’ll be boarding Air Force One within the hour."

Chapter 9

2004-12-20T19:41:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER NINE

"No, I said I'm staying right here."

"Why don’t you come down there with us," Gynnevva prodded. "Really Livv, it’ll be fun!" She turned toward the handsome young man on her arm and shook her head. "She's not usually like this…" He shrugged. Bored with the melodrama he coolly turned toward the observation deck and tapped his foot impatiently. "But Livv, I should think you’d want to be on the main floor with us. After all, dear, you’re the only one here who knows him."

"Shhh!" Livv objected. Her eyes darted back and forth scanning for eavesdroppers. "Please," she whispered, "I really don’t want any one to know about that."

"All right, you can be that way if you want. We've got to go now." Gynn grabbed the young man and turned to walk away. She swung her head around and winked. "You are coming to the party after the reception, aren’t you?"

"Of course," Livv said with a wink of her own.

On the balcony leaning against the rail she had a clear view of the entire shuttle dock. On the deck below the thousands of people crowding around the viewing stand swayed back and forth like reeds in a pond. From the podium set aglow by the force of a thousand lights Dakkalia would soon greet a breathless world. She smiled. He could have no idea what awaited him.

A collective gasp erupted from the main platform as the shuttle dock’s marker lights flickered on. Then there were shouts from below. A woman was screaming... Had the shuttle been spotted? All eyes rose skyward, each searching for a glimpse of the vehicle that would deliver unto them their new hero. "There!" Shouted one man. "It’s him," shouted another. At last Livv saw it. A pair of searchlights captured it’s silent descent. It sparkled in the night sky like a spinning jewel falling gracefully to the ground. The crowd cheered deliriously as it approached the outstretched moorings. The gleaming white craft drifted effortlessly into the slip. It came to rest with a resounding thud announcing to the world that Dakkalia was home at last.

The crowd crackled with anticipation as the shuttle was secured and the moorings were locked into place. Presently, the port side door opened. A silhouette of a man appeared and the cheering reached an urgent crescendo. The din turned quickly to hisses and moans. The man in the doorway clearly was not him, but rather Viddelio, the Supreme Director of Galactic Mining and Mapping. He stood alone at the podium and waited patiently for the crowd’s attention.

"Good people of this great city and those of you from points all over, it is my distinct honor and privilege to present to you the one and only, Dakkalia!" This time there was no mistaking the figure standing in the doorway. The applause and cheers went on forever. Soon thereafter, his father, Sollalia, and prominent members of the Ballalta’s council joined Dakk on the viewing stand.

She studied him closely. He looked so very tired behind that gracious smile. It was then she saw a large streak of white hair on his otherwise pure black head. How very odd, she thought. From that point on she couldn't take her eyes off him.

Following a brief introduction there were a few forgettable speeches made by members of Galactic’s elite corps and select members of Ballalta’s council. The audience grew impatient until finally Dakk stood alone at the podium.

"I can’t thank you all enough. It is very encouraging to have so many of you interested in the work that we do here at Galactic Mining and Mapping. While I am not at liberty to discuss in detail anything I might have discovered I do want to assure all of you that there is no danger to Orr or any of the colonies. What we do have is an opportunity to learn a great deal about life in our galaxy. Everything we have learned about Earth will help us greatly in understanding what lies out there, waiting for us to uncover..."

It was a rehearsed speech. It was Dakk’s voice but it was somebody else’s words. They were hiding something. Something big. Something that frightened them all to the core. This wasn’t merely internal Galactic censorship on display. This performance had been coached from the highest level of the government. Despite his solemn assurance that the security of Orr and her colonies was not in question Livv remained unconvinced. Something was terribly wrong. What else could explain this carefully orchestrated event.

"... I can tell you this; the most profound truth I have realized on this mission is that we have barely scratched the surface of what lies within our reach. This wonderful galaxy we live in has millions of secrets to unlock. There are things out there we haven’t even begun to imagine yet. I am glad to be a very small part of this grand effort to uncloak the mysteries of our universe and bring us closer to the Creator.
"On behalf of Viddelio and the entire Galactic Mining and Mapping organization, I can say, honestly, we appreciate your support. Thank you, all! I hope to see you all at the reception!"

A masterful job by some one so completely out of his element, Livv mused. Dakk was no public speaker yet despite his natural shyness he performed like a veteran of the stage. He began working the audience along the viewing stand like a seasoned American politician. The young girls he kissed and to the boys he raised his arm in a gesture of partnership. She watched, spellbound, as his figure disappeared into the crowd.

Suddenly, as if some irresistible force pulled her, she felt the desire to get to him quickly. She pushed her way through the crowd as she made her way to the lift station. By the time she reached the main floor the crowd had broken up into definable groups. She moved from group to group looking for signs that he was buried deep inside one of them. Not surprisingly, she found him surrounded by dozens of adoring young girls. On either side of him were representatives of Deppopio’s personal staff. Dakk was a precious commodity now, worthy of Depp's finest men. Nearby, Soll stood in silence, his eyes beamed with the pride only a parent could feel. There were hosts of wave reporters crowded around the perimeter. She wiggled in close enough to see him clearly, but making sure he could not see her. She listened carefully as the world’s newest hero was peppered with questions...

"Is it true," asked one reporter from the crowd, "that you’ve discovered a thousand new human worlds?"

"Are they all barbarians and pillagers?" shouted another.

Dakk laughed and she saw the sparkle in his eyes. He looked better from close up. The color had returned to his face. As he turned to face his questioners she ducked behind the crowd. "I’m sorry, but I really can’t talk about any of that right now. There are just too many unknowns, and until my ship's catalog is processed and released I’ll have to pass on your questions. Regulations… You understand… I’d hate to be telling you something that might not be true. So, please, no more questions about my latest mission."

"What’s it like to travel into the void," asked a young girl kneeling in front of his chair.

"Well, it’s kind of hard to describe, really." He turned toward the larger audience, "have any of you ever tried one of Galactic’s darkspace simulators?" Twenty or more young men and women raised their hands. "I see," he said with a grin. "Well it’s nothing like that!" Everyone laughed. "To be serious for a moment, it’s like being stripped of each of your senses all at once. If you are lucky enough to be able to freeze your thoughts as your ship reaches the light barrier, you may recover with an image in your head. If not, well, it’s like being thrust into an ice cold bath. It’s an all-consuming experience… Very unpleasant."

"Is it scary," asked another girl. "Are you afraid?"

"I’d be a fool if I wasn’t afraid."

"Have you ever been to Earth?" shouted a reporter.

"No. But someday, maybe." He lifted his eyebrows toward his father. "I’ve lived much of my life surrounded by images and sounds of Earth due to my father being an alumni of the Earth Institute. You all know my father…" Soll nodded and raised his hand. He turned toward Soll and gestured with his hand. "You may not know this about my father, besides being the High Chair of Terrekka’s Council and a current member of the Supreme High Council, he is a true expert on American baseball." Again the people laughed. "No it's true… Go ahead, father, tell these good people about the greatest World Series ever played."

Soll blushed. "These people don’t want to hear me blathering on and on. They’re all here to see you."

Dakk laughed sharply as if accepting a challenge. "Did I ever tell you that Deppopio once said the greatest series ever was the ‘56 Yankees revenge victory over the Brooklyn Dodgers. Me, I think it was the 2004 Boston Red Sox, on emotion alone." Soll stepped forward shaking his head back and forth. Dakk scowled, "That’s not it? What say you?"

"I’m afraid my good friend Depp has let sentimentalism cloud his objectivity. And I don't know how you can even think a four game sweep in 2004 was even exciting let alone great. Clearly the 1991 Minnesota Twins victory over the Atlanta Braves was the greatest series ever."
"How so?" Dakk prodded his father on. Soll knew what was happening and played into it.

"Where do I begin? One run decided five of the seven games. In four of those games the deciding run was the last play of the game. In game six Puckett robbed Gant of a home run and then in the bottom of the eleventh hit a home run of his own to keep the Twins alive and send the series to a seventh and deciding game.

"The seventh game pitted young John Smoltz against his boyhood hero Jack Morris. Each player pitched shut out ball through eight tense innings. In a decision that might cost him the game and the championship Brave’s manager Bobby Cox sat Smoltz on the bench and went to his bullpen. With the score 0-0 and the game on the line, Morris refused to be taken out of the game for a fresher arm. Against his better judgment manager Kelly sent the veteran out to mound for the tenth. Morris didn’t flinch; taking his team to the bottom of the inning still tied. It was quite intense. Then, with the bases loaded, Gene Larkin lifted a fly ball over the centerfielder’s head scoring Gladden from third, winning the game and the series. A better finish could not have been scripted."

"Well, I can’t argue with that," Dakk chuckled. Together they had diverted everyone’s attention from something real to mindless Earth trivia.

Nevertheless, everyone loved mindless Earth trivia. Livv, now standing silently behind the first row of reporters, was ready to burst at the seams. These people were eating it up. Finally, during a moment of silence, she blurted out: "What happened to your hair?"

Dakk and Soll perked up, both of them recognizing the familiar voice. Dakk smiled. She was out there! His eyes scanned the crowd but he could not find her. He sat back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair.

"This? I’m not sure what happened. I’m afraid I can offer no explanation that will satisfy Galactic’s good doctors." He smiled proudly. "Looks distinctive, no?" Several young girls screamed and whistled. "I think I’ll keep it."

The superficial questions went on and on until Dakk was finally spirited away by Deppopio’s guards to attend a private function. The crowds on the main platform dispersed to various corners of the massive structure where countless parties were being held in Dakkalia’s honor. Livv stayed behind. She sat up on the viewing stand alone until the landing bay was empty and the lights dimmed down. A single tear rolled down her cheek as a solitary, painful thought dashed through her head. Why would he even want her when the whole world was his for the asking? She lay back on the deck and stared up into the crisp, cloudless sky. She felt the cold tear change direction, but made no effort to wipe it away. The brilliance of a million stars could be seen in one eyeful. His life was out there; hers was rooted firmly on the ground. It wasn’t fair to ask a man of the stars to be tied to one woman. There was a reason Galactic favored the pilots with no outside loyalties.

"There you are!" came a voice out from out of the darkness. Gynnevva skipped her way across the tarmac with her young man in tow. "What are doing here, all alone..." she stopped in mid-sentence as Livv sat up and wiped the remains of the tear from her face. "... You’ve been crying. What’s the matter?"

"It’s nothing," Livv said in a strong, steady voice, hoping she didn’t sound as weak as she felt. "Things just didn’t turn out the way I had planned, that’s all."

"Dumped you, huh? Oh, Livv, I didn’t mean that... That settles it, you simply must come with us. They’re having a toga party up on 399. It’s a riot. And on 409 they’re having an Elvis party." She turned to her partner: "Was it the young Elvis or the fat Elvis?" He shook his head and shrugged. "Whatever, doesn’t matter anyway. What do you say, Livv? Will you come? It’ll be fun."

"Thanks, dear, but I’d rather be alone tonight. I'm not in much of a party mood. I’ll just slow you down."

Gynn frowned. "It’s not like you Livvy, you love to party." She hung her head down, mocking Livv’s glum expression. "Well, you can’t say I didn’t try. If you change your mind you know where to find us." She turned to her young man, "let’s go!"

She watched Gynn hop across the tarmac to the lift station and disappear into a lift tube with her legs straddled around his waist. This time not even Gynn’s infectious spirit could light a fire in her. She was so tired now. She was ready to find a room for the night. She stood and jumped down from the viewing stand. Walking toward the lift station she heard footfalls that were not her own. She stopped and listened. Somewhere behind her she heard the clanging of boots on a metal ramp. She spun to see a silhouetted image of a young man.

"And he wondered," said the man aloud, "would she still be waiting for him after all this time?"

"Dakk! Is it you?"

She sprinted toward him, their bodies meeting halfway up the ramp. "It’s me. And I’m here to stay." They kissed and held each other, neither wanting to be the first to let go of the other. "I wasn’t sure you’d be here. I was away for so long this time..."

"Don’t be silly. I’ll never stop wanting you. Never." He picked her up and carried her toward the lift station. "Where are we going?" she asked pensively.

"To the Top of the World," he declared in a booming voice.
The Top of the World was a private room perched atop the tallest untethered structure in the world. Sitting on the very pinnacle of the Galaxy Building’s spire the Top of the World was a destination of dreams. It was synonymous with extraordinary success. Few people had ever seen it let alone spent the night. "How?" Livv asked.

"I have friends in high places," he laughed. "The room is ours for as long as we want it."

"Then it is ours forever," she laughed.

He held his head close to her ear and whispered: "You don’t like the hair, do you?"

"No, that’s not true. I love it! I love everything about you... And I missed you terribly. And I have so much to tell you...

"Shhh... No more talking. We can talk tomorrow." As they raced skyward in the lift tube he kissed her gently on the neck and whispered: "Words are a distraction. We’ll have no need for them where we are going."

Chapter 10

2004-12-19T19:50:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER TEN

The Rose Garden ceremony introducing America's first Ambassador to Space remained a blur. The glare of a thousand flash bulbs still danced in her mind's eye. Sitting in the backseat of a motor pool limousine dashing toward Cape Canaveral she tried to process all that had happened to her.

Watching the President raise her fist with a challenge to anyone questioning her dedication to uncovering the truth found the young Julia Rayhied feeling the vapid pangs of anxiety. The President was in full campaign mode and this TV star was just another weapon she would deploy in her bid to hold on to the White House. Yet, for all her claims of personal integrity Julia didn't mind being cast as a pawn in this melodrama if it meant getting any closer to the truth. Entertaining questions from the media on the flight from Washington to Orlando she insisted it was an honor to be called upon to serve the country. None dared accuse her of sleeping with the enemy, of selling out the cause. The cause remained the same: discover the truth. Only the vehicle to get there had changed.
The noonday sun augmented Florida’s infamous humidity rendering the big car’s air conditioning system essentially useless. By opening the windows the driver relinquished all climate control to mother nature herself. As the motorcade raced east on 528 she could smell the moist ocean air rushing in. The breeze felt good. As she dabbed the sweat from her forehead, she saw the Cape rising up from the haze.

Cape Canaveral had become noticeably more militarized since the Air Force took control of the aging space shuttle program. NASA, now completely out of the satellite delivery business, relied on a pair of bare bones space trucks to ferry parts up to the beleaguered International Space Station. The military desperately needed a reusable manned spacecraft to service its array of strategic satellites. The space shuttle was well suited for the job.

The Patriot, in all its glory, was the last and most technically advanced of the shuttles to be built. Barely off the drawing board when the Air Force took over the fleet, much of its final fitting was done under the cloak of military secrecy. Its final specifications remained classified. There was little question why she was chosen for this mission over her hangar mates.
They soon began passing large signs between the neatly spaced rows of palm trees that directed them to the Air Force Base. Far off in the distance she could see the huge buildings that housed part of the shuttle fleet. However, it was only as they approached the perimeter of the base could she fully appreciate the enormity of the complex.

With the lead car’s flashing lights clearing the way, they raced through the main gates without stopping. The limousine finally stopped before a large brick building. The NASA logo, now long gone, left its mark on the faded red brick. Standing motionless on the steps were three men in dark suits. She smiled at them through the open window. Her driver quickly ran around the vehicle to open her door.

"Gentlemen, it’s good to see you again," she said with a wink. John Carvin and Bert Mackay each shook her hand with genuine delight.

Behind them stood a man she never thought she'd see again. Looking cool and collected in the oppressive midday heat the smartly dressed man from the State Department stood before her with his arms crossed. He slowly slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose until she could see his eyes.

"Why, Mr. Brown, that is you," she said coyly.

Mr. Brown stepped forward and extended his right hand. He gracefully brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Miss Rayhied... My dream has come true."

"Do you two know each other?" Laughed John Carvin nervously.

"Excuse me, sir," Mr. Brown said as he promptly backed away.

"Yes, we met a few weeks ago in Washington," she explained with delight, "during the congressional hearings on the Global Array. He works for the President..."

Mr. Brown interrupted. "Not any more,"

"Oh... I beg your pardon," she replied half-smiling.

"I now work for you, Miss Ambassador," he said with a bow. "I have been assigned as your personal assistant."

"My personal assistant? Gee, fella’s, I didn’t know I needed one."

"It’s one of the privileges of being a United States Ambassador. The rest of your staff is being assembled as we speak."

"Staff? My goodness," she said with a child-like grin, "you make it sound as if I were somebody important."

"Believe me," Bert Mackay said coolly, "Miss Rayhied, you are important. Despite what many people think we really do desire the people’s blessing for this mission. It is the President’s belief that you can deliver the good will of the American people. We’re glad to have you aboard."

She smiled. "Why, thank you, Mr. Mackay. I will try to do my best…"

There was something about Bert Mackay she didn’t like. He was too sweet. There was a hidden agenda in his every utterance. She felt it strongly the day she met him in the Oval Office. Nothing had changed. Every word that came out of his mouth served only to reinforce her first impression. She quickly turned to John Carvin. "OK, Director Carvin, what’s next?"

Carvin abruptly stepped off the curb and looked down the palm tree lined street. "I believe your question can be answered by that man." He pointed to a man speeding up the street in an electric golf cart. The officer behind the wheel was impeccably dressed, and like Mr. Brown, pressed and creased from collar to cuff. His short, dark hair was slickly combed back and a pair of fashionable mirrored sunglasses smartly covered his eyes. His deep bronze tan offset his pearl white teeth. He was a man completely comfortable in the hot, sticky Florida climate. "That, Miss Rayhied, would be our own Major Dunne."

In one fluid motion the golf cart screeched to a stop, the major leapt from the driver’s chair, flew through the air, and landed squarely in front of them. Bert Mackay leaned close to Julia and whispered, "He’s a bit intense, but you’ll get used to him."

Major Dunne came to attention before Julia and stood straight-faced awaiting his introduction. Bert Mackay nodded to the Major and turned to Julia. "Miss Ambassador, may I present to you, Major David Dunne. He will be your coordinator during your stay at the Cape."

He extended his right hand. "Miss Rayhied, It’s a real pleasure to meet you."

"Well, Major," she said quietly, taking his hand, "did they tell you I am not an astronaut?"

The major managed a shallow laugh. "I see..."

"Now, don’t worry, Julia," Bert Mackay stepped between them, "Major Dunne will take good care of you. He will be with you through the entire process, right up to the launch pad. He’s going to teach you everything you need to know." Mackay slapped the Major on the shoulder. "He’s the best there is."

"All right then, major," Julia said cheerfully, "shall we get started?"

Major Dunne pointed to the golf cart. "Hop in," he said sharply. He swung his legs into the driver’s seat while Julia slid into the open seat next to him. The limousine driver threw her bags in the back of the cart leaving just enough room for Mr. Brown to sit with his legs dangling off the back. Major Dunne looked back at his passenger and said simply, "hold on..."

***

For Mr. Brown the tour couldn’t be over soon enough. Tossed about mercilessly on the back of the golf cart he began to feel sick to his stomach. The major seemed to go out of his way to take the roughest roads, purposely steering into bumps and dips. Mr. Brown began to get the distinct impression that the Major didn’t really want him around.
They finally stopped inside the hangar long enough for Mr. Brown to slide off the back of the cart. "Listen, Julia, I think I’m going to go get a cup of coffee," he said with a shaky smile as he straightened his tie and collar. "Do you think you’ll be needing me for anything?" She looked at Major Dunne and raised her eyebrows. The major shook his head back and forth vehemently.

"No, I guess not," she said. "I’ll be fine here with the Major, you go along now, freshen up, you don’t look so well."

"You’re right, I don’t feel so good right now... Listen... Now, you have my cell number..." Wasting no time with pleasantries Mr. Brown left the two of them standing alone in the shadow of the Patriot.

Major Dunne smiled. "I don’t think he realizes his phone won’t work here on the base. They’re not allowed. The signals are jammed." She studied his expression and thought she detected a devious grin on his face.
"Why don’t you like him?" she asked the major directly.

"I have my reasons," he said plainly, not even attempting a polite denial that one might have expected.

"Would you care to expand on that?" Julia pushed.

"He’s from Washington isn’t he?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Then he can’t be trusted. It’s that simple. Those people play down and dirty. I choose not to play with them."

It was as if she were thrown back in time to a dire conversation she had in a smoke filled nightclub in the nation’s capitol. Jerry Baines’ words of warning had surfaced again.

"I’m sorry," said the major, "I don’t mean to be a jerk. It’s just that when you’ve been around this place as long as I have you learn whom you can trust and whom you should avoid. Any suit from the State Department I tend to avoid like the plague."

"No, that’s all right. I do understand, actually. It’s just that I’ve heard this before and I was startled by it the first time. I guess I just didn’t expect to hear it from a member of the armed forces." She moved closer to him and lowered her voice, "what must you think of the NSA if that’s the way you feel about one of the President’s boys."

"Listen," he said, his voice held even softer than hers, "I plead the fifth. I see no evil, hear no evil, and I certainly speak no evil. Enough said, all right?"

Not another word was spoken until they had ascended to the top of the rigging elevator. "Beautiful isn’t she?" said the major. "You’re looking at the most sophisticated machine ever built. Under the skin she hardly even resembles her sisters." He patted the hull of the gleaming white machine as if it were the nap of a prized thoroughbred. "She has no less than five perfect missions under her belt. This baby'll take you up and bring you back again, don’t you worry."

She smiled but said nothing. It was more impressive than she’d ever imagined. She felt humbled standing so close to it. Its sleek white lines guided her eyes smoothly to ground below them. Looking down the rigging toward the huge cargo bay doors she remembered the untested auxiliary fuel tank the Patriot would need to carry it into high orbit. Her mind suddenly flashed with the image of a cold January day in 1986. Major Dunne felt her tremble from across the plank and laughed out loud. "What’s so funny?" she asked.

"You are... You can relax, nothing is going to happen to you..." She didn’t seem particularly reassured by his confidence. "You’re worrying about the auxiliary tank, and thinking about the Challenger."

She looked flushed. "Yes, I am, a little. Am I that transparent?"

He chuckled nervously. "I know, I know, you’ve seen the video over and over all your life. I have too, only it plays up here in my mind... " He pointed to his head. "I was here that day. It’s one day I could never forget: January 28th 1986. I remember it as if it were only yesterday. I was a teenager on the trip of a lifetime. Terrible thing to see for some one so young..."

"Are you saying I shouldn’t worry about it? That there’s no way it could happen again?"

"I’d stake my life on it. Besides, if I told you there was a fifty-fifty chance this thing will go off like a Roman candle you’d still go. Am I right?"
He knew! He understood. He realized what this meant to her, and how far she would go in the face of her own fears. She nodded her head. "Obviously. I’d go right this second if I could."

"I thought so..." he whispered. She only smiled. He placed his hand on her shoulder, "that’s enough for today. Time to turn in. Tomorrow we have a full schedule, you’ll need the rest."

***

Jarred from her bed at 5:00 AM she was pulled out on to the tarmac by Major Dunne to watch the Patriot being moved out of the hangar for the long journey to the launch pad. It was a spectacular sight; without question one of the wonders of the modern world, yet she failed to see the purpose her presence served. Then, with her eyes barely open and the sun only now breaking the Atlantic horizon, she was thrust into a grueling fire fighting exercise. She was left with skin burns and parts of her hair singed off. Wiping the soot and sweat from her fire-burned face Major Dunne appeared before her with two steaming cups of black coffee.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Despite the dirt and grime she was spectacularly beautiful. He would struggle with his sense of professionalism in her presence. He wanted desperately to impress her.

"You may want to take minute and relax, the tough stuff is coming up."

As she looked at the cup in her hand, the steam curling up and dissipating into the soft morning breeze, a tiny bead of sweat rolled off her chin. She might have preferred ice water, but she said nothing, wanting no special treatment. Something told her she would receive none.

***

For three hot, grueling days the Major Dunne brought on the tough stuff, every bit of it. She was to have five years of training thrown at her in seventy-two hours. When she wasn’t running or jumping or climbing on top of things, she was being poked and prodded by countless strange men in white lab coats. They wanted to know every conceivable thing about her health, right down to the frequency of her bodily functions. The only rest she got was when they sat her down with the company psychiatrist for a couple of informal chats. Her mental state seemingly intact, she was then sent to the "separator". The "separator" tested the physical limits’ the human body could endure. The separator was the machine that sought out the true mettle of each astronaut candidate. As its nickname implied, it had been known to separate the men from the boys. The twenty-six year old, 119 pound Julia Rayhied finished in the top 79th percentile. Few candidates ever did that well on the first go around. Even the Major was impressed.

Although she thought she was doing well not everyone was pleased with her progress. There were those who hoped she would fail to make the cut, that she wouldn’t measure up. To some people the very idea of an untrained civilian aboard the Patriot, so blatantly sent to pump up the President’s opinion poll numbers, only increased the risk of failure. There were those who believed that first contact with the visitors should be made at the business end of a gun.

Among her detractors were the mission navigator and her crewmate, Major Daniel Jank. Major Jank was representing the pentagon’s interest on this mission. His agenda was clear. He had been exceedingly vocal with his less than enthusiastic opinion of the ambassador’s role. He was polite but cool when they met. In stark contrast the mission pilot, Captain Travis Mcdonnel had been openly friendly and quite gracious toward her.

Captain Mcdonnel was a NASA pilot of some repute. He really needed no introduction when they met. She grew up living vicariously through him and all the men and women who ventured closer to the stars than she ever dreamed of. Twelve years ago he was chosen over all his peers to pilot the shuttle Endeavor and attempt an incredibly daring rescue of a stranded Russian crew aboard the crippled International Space Station. He and his crew returned to a hero’s welcome in America and in the streets of Moscow. He became the most famous astronaut since Neil Armstrong. His squared jawed face appeared on the Wheaties box and on all the school backpacks that fall.

The good captain pulled her aside and told her to ignore Jank. It seemed the Major was not particularly well liked by anyone. Jank was all business, and regarded a civilian liaison as an unnecessary risk. It wasn't personal. Ultimately he was regarded as the best tactical soldier in the Air Force. Knowing that made her feel no better about the man. It made her even more determined to succeed, to deflect people like him, and hone in on the truth.

On the fourth morning she detected a degree of urgency in Major Dunne’s tone when he made the now routine 5:00 AM wake-up call. There was a knock on the door almost before she could put the phone back on the hook. She let him in and then dashed into the bathroom. He poured her a cup of coffee from the carafe he brought in with him. He set the cup on the end table and sat on the arm of the easy chair. The only light in the room streamed out from the open bathroom door. He watched her distorted shadow dance on the bare white wall. The two dimensional silhouette was mesmerizing. He opened his mouth to speak, but words did not follow. He had become an instant prisoner of his own attraction to her, captivated by the motion of her hazy image, wondering what it would be like to have her. Finally his sense of duty cleared his mind and broke the spell.
"How are you feeling this morning, Julia?" he asked pensively.

"Fine," she said instantly. It was a lie, a white lie. Every fiber of her being ached, but she knew he really didn’t want to hear that. She poked her head out from the bathroom, her loaded toothbrush poised at her parted lips and said: "Why do you ask?"

"How do you feel about flying today?"

"What! Today? You are joking? Right?" He said nothing but his silence spoke volumes to her. "But, but... I’m not ready."

"Yes you are. You’re as ready as you’ll ever be."

Just then there was a knock at the door... "Julia?" the muffled voice of Mr. Brown passed through the door. "Are you up?" Tightening her robe she opened the door and he rushed into the room uninvited. He tossed a small suitcase on the bed and spun around in place. "Something’s happening!" He said hysterically.

She was surprised to see him, especially at this hour. Major Dunne had successfully kept him at bay for three days; this was the last place Dunne wanted to see him. The trainer’s careful psychological preparation of his subject was in jeopardy of a complete breakdown. "I just got off the phone with Secretary Paterson in DC. He said the Russians have launched... Why is it so dark in here?" He jacked the light switch by the door revealing Major Dunne sitting silently in the corner, sipping his coffee. "Well... Good morning, Major."

"Mr. Brown," Dunne replied tonelessly. "News travels fast."

"Is that true, Major?" Julia asked. "Is that why we’re launching today?" Dunne merely nodded his head.

"Now, wait a minute," Mr. Brown objected. "You can’t be serious. She can’t possibly be ready with only three days of training. Damn you people. You’re going to get her killed."

"Please, shut up, Mr. Brown," the major snapped. He stood and walked across the room until he was toe to toe with Mr. Brown. "If I wanted your assessment of this trainee I would’ve asked, until then, sir, shut your stinking trap." He turned to Julia who was still standing in her robe with a toothbrush in one hand and holding the door open with the other. "Now, Julia, we’ve taken care of everything. You know what your job is. You can do this; I have every confidence in you." He smiled, pointed to the bathroom and said calmly, "Now, get in there and get ready... And remember no coffee this morning, no bagels, no cereal, no nothing, got it?" She shook her head and like an obedient child marched into the bathroom. He returned his glare to Mr. Brown. "As for you, I think it’s time for you to leave."

"Hold on there, Major, it is my job to brief the Ambassador prior to launch..." Neither man flinched. Each could feel his own hands clenching into white knuckled fists. "I will do my job."

Finally, Major Dunne stepped back. The gesture evoked an audible sigh from Mr. Brown. The power of the State Department superseded Dunne’s conspicuous urge to pummel the annoying civilian.

"Listen to me," Dunne said sharply, like a father lecturing his son, his index finger waving back and forth, "not one word about the risks. You got it! We’re trying to stack the deck in our favor, frightening her will not help. Do you understand? You’ve got ten minutes."

Ten minutes was all he would need. The small suitcase he had thrown on the bed contained a pair of special laptop computers. It was to be her tool, the means by which she would chronicle the mission. It’s universal interface allowed it to attach to the Patriot’s main computer and would record, in addition to her personal observations, everything that happened on or around the spacecraft. It had an array multiple redundancies built in and was equipped with dual Intel 128 bit processors capable of backing up the three 100,000-RPM hard drives in 4.5 seconds. She learned that she and the rest of the crew were going to have electrodes attached to their bodies. Transmitting over short distance radio back to the computer the electrodes would be recording in real time the physiological changes they each experienced throughout the mission. When he was finished detailing her instructions he packed the computers in the suitcase snapped shut the latches and handed it to her with a mock salute. There was to be a press conference held at the base of the launch pad and for the sake of appearances she was to be holding the little computer the people at mission control had playfully dubbed the ‘Eye in the Sky’.

***

Being strapped into the ‘bucket’ was as uncomfortable as it sounded. It was four hours, and counting since she and her crewmates were secured into launch position. During that time she had nearly lost all sense of her body. Her mind could hear and process the endless technical chatter in her headset but she felt strangely disconnected from it all. More often than not there was the very real sensation that it was happening to someone else, that this was all some kind of dream.

The Captain and Major Jank seemed completely at ease with the program of events. They were both veterans of many flights, and one, was a fearless American hero. They laughed and joked around with the nonchalance one would expect from two men sitting in the barber’s chair waiting to have a little trimmed off the sides. Deep down even they knew this was not a routine flight. There would be no second chances, no last minute delays, and no automatic computer shutdowns. The Patriot would ascend into the heavens as scheduled or explode into a hellish fireball. All focus was on the former because the latter was simply unthinkable.

"Julia," Captain Mcdonnel said over the intercom, "do you know any French?"

Startled back into consciousness she fumbled for words. "French? What... Do you mean the French language?"

"Yes, the language," he confirmed.

"Sorry, no."

"How about Russian?"

"Sorry... I‘m afraid I am fluent only in Hindi and English. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it’s nothing, really. We’d just like to know how to say ‘have a nice day’ as we blow past Pierre and Boris up there." Both men busted out laughing. She found it difficult to take Major Jank with any humor but laughed anyway as he attempted an impish impression of a French accent.
The bantering between the two of them went on until word came from Africa that the Araine launch went off flawlessly; it was all business from then on. Everything she had been taught took on clarity unseen before. If Mcdonnel and Jank were at all concerned about the head start the others had they did not show it. The shuttle was a proven retrieve and rescue vehicle; the others were not. They had that advantage.

She closed her eyes and breathed deep as the countdown wound its way ever closer to the point of no return. Captain Mcdonnel, busily running the final check off routine, spoke fluently in technical jargon she could not understand. Then at T-Minus one minute all chatter on the intercom ceased but the lone monotonous voice of launch control calling out the countdown. At T-Minus ten seconds she could hear the tiny explosions of the moorings letting loose. One by one they were setting the orbiter free.
"Seven... Six..." Another set of moorings going. "Five... Four..." The rush of valves opening. "Three... Two..." A roar. She felt a shudder, a vibration that rattled the teeth in her head. Then there was the thunder, a cacophony of unbelievable proportion.

All at once she became one with the machine. Her body was a fixture, an immovable object. Her legs and arms were welded into place. Only her eyes could move freely, and they were darting back and forth rapidly trying to gather any sensory information they could. Intellectually she knew there were two other people only an arms length away from her and yet for the first time in her life she felt completely and utterly alone. She closed her eyes and listened intensely to the voices in her ears.

"Launch minus one minute fifty, booster separation sequence initiated... Over."

"Booster separation sequence confirmed," said the Captain.

"Launch minus one minute fifty-nine, booster separation complete... You’re clear for full throttle, Patriot."

"Affirmative," said Mcdonnel, "throttles at full... Throttles maintaining at one hundred percent."

"Looking good, Patriot. All systems go."

The engines were singing. She felt her heart beat in rhythm with the pulsing of the three massive engines. It was as much a throb as it was a roar. It was like nothing she could’ve imagined and yet she was comfortable with, even serene, in face of such awesomeness.

"Patriot, this is launch control. The computer has initiated external tank separation sequence. Confirm... Over."

"External tank separation sequence is confirmed, all systems reporting normal."

"External tank separation at launch minus four minutes three," said the voice from Houston. "No alarms to report. All systems up, all protocols up. You’ve got the green light, Patriot."

A minute or more passed with only the familiar beeps of launch control to tie her to the real world. With her eyes closed she felt completely in tune with the machine. Then, unexpectedly, she felt the pressure on her body begin to ease up. Suddenly the engines cut. Like being plunged into a tank of cold water the shock of the sudden change momentarily overwhelmed her. Somewhere beyond her mind’s ability to comprehend her eyes popped open to a strange and alien scene. It was the sound of Mcdonnel's voice on the intercom that yanked her back to reality.

"Computer initiated shut down of the main engines is complete," he said with mechanical efficiency. "External tank separation sequence underway... Hold on to your hats ladies and gentleman."

"Launch minus five minute fifty eight," said the steady voice of launch control. "... Five... Four... Three... Two... One..." There was a loud metallic clang as the huge tank disengaged from the belly of the orbiter and floated gracefully away. "Launch minus six minutes five, external tank separation complete. You are clear to fire the positioning rockets at will."
"Copy that, Houston," said the captain. "I can see the tank now on the remote. We are free and clear... Preparing positioning rockets for ignition... All four rockets primed... All systems reporting normal... Entering firing code sequence... Ten seconds to ignition... Five... Two seconds..." There was a rush of sound that quickly reached a crescendo. "All rockets firing. Estimated burn time of two minutes forty seconds."
This time there was no pressure, no extreme G-forces smashing her body down into the chair. The Patriot had broken the chains of gravity, and now glided effortlessly in the frictionless vacuum of space. She moved her arms and legs against the straps; quite pleased to see they still worked. The smile returned to her face, she had made it. She was one of them now, a pioneer at the doorstep of the final frontier.

There was a sudden rush of chilled air inside her launch suit. Up to this point she had been oblivious to the environmental conditions around her. The temperature inside the cabin had risen sharply triggering various alarms on the control panel. The interior temperature had reached a sweltering 40 degrees Celsius. "A bird the size of a whale creates considerable friction slicing through the Earth’s thick atmosphere," Major Dunne had told her.

"Ah say, Mr. Janks," said the captain with a touch aristocracy in his voice, "would you be so kind as to prepare to open the cargo bay doors? It’s getting rather hot in here; wouldn’t you say?"

"Why, it would be my pleasure, sir," replied the major with just the right redneck overtone to evoke an immediate chuckle from the Captain. "One Texas-sized heat sink coming up."

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," Mcdonnel announced cheerfully, "the excitement is over. Let the fun begin!"

"Amen," said America’s newest ambassador upon visiting the embassy for the first time.

Chapter 11

2004-12-18T20:19:00.000-08:00

Chapter Eleven

The first rays of the sun danced across the surface of the ocean like a handful of glitter scattered recklessly on the wind. The random points of brilliance blinded her eyes to all else. Never before had she seen such a sight. It drew her from the floatbed, beckoning to her with a mystical power reserved only for the privileged few. As the magical light filled the room it gave color to everything it touched. From the top of the world she reached out and greeted the new day for the rest of humanity.

For the first time in months her heart was alive. He was home! The sun was shining and everything was right with the world. Her only desire was that this one glorious moment last forever. She sighed heavily, submitting to the stark reality of what she knew to be the only truth. There was no such thing as forever.

In all its glory, even the purifying rays of the morning sun could not wash away the lingering chaos she had caged up inside. What she saw in Soll’s commchamber on that rainy morning could not be swept from her memory by the afterglow of answered prayers.

What she witnessed left her with more questions than answers. Could any of it be true? Was the great Sollalia really the infamous Renegade? Would she believe what her eyes told her or what her heart screamed out? More significantly, was it any of her business? Her irrational desire to seek out news of Dakkalia’s return had caused her to invade his privacy. Today ? she was ashamed of herself.

She turned back toward the rising sun as it chased away the darkness and smiled. As for now she would live in the perfection of this one single moment in time. Everything else would wait.

The delicate tranquillity was shattered when across the room a dissonant sounder blared. Dakk’s portacon, discarded without concern the night before, now clearly demanded his attention. The sounder was an emergency flash and would not stop irritating until he responded. It seemed impossible that anyone could have known his number so soon. (As a rule his wave address had been changed. This was standard procedure following a survey mission of any consequence. No one, including his superiors at Galactic, was to have known it yet.)

She picked it up off the crystal floor and tossed into the suspension field. Once inside the floatbed the noise was intolerable. He lashed out with one hand and grabbed the offending device. He looked up at Livv who could only shrug her shoulders. “Who could it be?”

“It’s Soll,” he shrugged. “Does the man ever sleep?” He activated the viewer with one hand as he smoothed his hair back with the other. “What is it, father?”

“Dakk!” Soll shouted with delight. “Oh, son, you look terrible. Something keep you up all night?”

“Slept like a rock! As a matter of fact I was just getting up now...” He could hear Livv chuckling behind him. “What has you up so early? You were still going strong when I left. It seemed everyone wanted a word with you last night. What have you been doing while I was away? Hibernating?”

For a moment there was dead silence. Dakk looked up, when his eyes met Livv’s she looked away. There was a story here, he thought, but no one was ready to tell it. Finally, Soll spoke forcing him to address the face on the portacon allowing Livv to slink out of his sight. “I’ve been on sabbatical for a few months, but that’s really not important right now.” Dakk noted a sense urgency in Soll’s tone. “I need you to come to New Pallpoli right away.”

“All right,” the younger man said instantly. “Can you tell me what it’s about?”

Soll smiled briefly. “We really can’t talk about that now, not on the wave. I know these are supposed to be secured channels. I don’t believe any exist. We’ll talk when you get here.”

“I’ll be there...”

“One more thing,” Soll added hastily, “have you seen Livv? I can’t seem to find her." Dakk shrugged, his eyebrows raised slightly as he shook his head. "There seems to be something wrong with her portacon... Anyway, if you happen to see her tell her I need her in New Pallpoli too!”

"If I see her…” Dakk eked out as his father’s image abruptly vanished “I will tell her…” He shrugged and tossed the portacon aside and then leapt from the floatbed using the corner struts for leverage. “All right, lady, what’s going on?” he shouted playfully. He could see her naked body through the glass wall, but she made no move in response. Her head was down and her hands covered her eyes. “Is everything all right, Livv?”

She sobbed quietly, wiping the tears away from her eyes as he approached. “Dakk, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I thought he would be all right now that you’re back...”

“What are you talking about?” She looked away again. “It’s Soll isn’t it? Do you think I didn’t notice something was wrong with him. I knew it when he came up to Dass to see me. He didn’t even to bother using the holographic filters to hide the dark circles under his eyes.”

“I should have said something, I feel like I’ve been keeping secrets.”
“What is it?”

“I’m not sure, perhaps he’s just lonely.”

“Soll! Lonely?" He laughed. "You’ve got to be joking?"

“Your mother’s been gone a long time...”

“But Soll could have his pick of any woman in the world. After all, he’s going to be the next Supreme High Chair of the Orrian High Council.” He studied the pain in her eyes as the words tripped off his lips. “What’s happened?”

“Dakk, he disappeared after you left. I was practically the only one to see him in person. Even when he bothered to attend Terrekkan Council functions he did so as a projection and even those appearances were canned.

“Okay, so he wanted time alone, a little solitude.”

“That’s not all. There is a woman in his life.” Dakk’s eyes lit up. Livv shook her head. “Hold on, I haven’t finished yet. She’s a primitive. An American TV star.”

Dakk began laughing. It was the hearty laugh of one faced with complete absurdity. “And this has you worried? Tell me one man who hasn’t fantasized about being with a primitive. Livv, Livv, Livv, you had me worried for minute there.”

“I don’t think you understand. This not a simple case of infatuation. People are saying he went to Earth to be with her.”

“Well, did he?”

“I don’t know. There were weeks at a time when even I didn’t see him.”
“Then you have no proof that he did?” She shook her head. “Does anybody have proof of this?” Again she shook her head. “Then, enough said. I’ll talk to Soll, he’ll listen to me.”

“What are you going to tell him? Grow up? Act his age. It won’t be that simple.”

“She’s a primitive. Forbidden fruit. He knows the rules. He ought to, he wrote them. You act like she’s got him under some kind of a spell or something. Who is she?”

Livv reached for the remote console. She set it for voice actuation and set it back down. “Console, please display the American TV personality from the show S.E.T.I.'s Universe.” The screenwall flickered and produced a picture that stopped Dakk cold.

“Mother,” he uttered softly to himself. “What is this? This is...”

“Julia Rayhied, of San Francisco, California, United States.”

“Is this a joke? It’s got to be a joke. Livv, that’s my mother.”

“I guarantee you that is not Teffiona. She’s a 26-year-old American woman. She has become very popular over the past year on Earth. It was just a matter of time before Soll was exposed to her. I’m sure he reacted much like you did. So, maybe now you see why everyone is so concerned about him?”

Dakk said nothing. His mind was racing, rooting out any plausible explanation. She held her tongue, mesmerized by his concentration. Finally he squinted his eyes as if to gain focus. He smiled broadly, his eyes bright. She smiled with him. “What is it?” she asked impatiently.

“She’s a plant. No doubt put there by Soll’s political enemies. We all know the Earth Doctrine is a failure. It's so full of holes… How difficult would it be to put a passable mockup of my mother into the American system? This is so simple, why didn’t you think of it?”

Livv merely shook her head and smiled. “What do you think me and thousands of people have been doing while you were away? Julia Rayhied is perhaps the most researched person ever to have lived on Earth. Sorry to have to tell you this, she is legitimate. She checks out. She’s real.”

“I can’t accept that. What about genetic cloning?”

“There is an effort to obtain a tissue or hair sample of the young lady to compare it to your mother’s DNA, but it’s been stalled by numerous provisions of the Earth Doctrine. There’s no way the High Council will ever sanction it. And the world be warned if Soll ever found out about it.”

“Who’s behind that effort?”

“People I have never met. Most certainly fronts for Larrvino, I suppose, he’s even in alliance with some Earth Party advocates. Dakk, no one wants to believe she’s a clone. There’s just no evidence of that.”

“What about fertility clinics? It would seem a reasonable scenario... My Mother’s DNA? It’s possible…”

“But that was twenty-six years ago. Soll didn’t have ‘enemies’ back then. Besides, we thought of that. There is no evidence that her parents ever visited a fertility clinic. There’s nothing in Marie Rayhied’s medical records that would indicate a fertility problem.”

“And her father?” he pressed.

“Nothing.”

“There’s got to be an explanation.” He walked toward the screenwall, studying the beautiful face that stared back at him. He tapped the wall with his finger. “This is my mother...”

He said nothing on the trip from Ballalta’s City to New Pallpoli. She didn’t press him. The short trip by high altitude transport would give him the time to gather his thoughts. She was now certain that not telling him about Soll’s letter was the right thing to do. A man could take only so much.

New Pallpoli was built precisely between Terrekka’s City in the north and Ballalta’s City in the south. High atop a glacial plateau in the Great Divide Range the Government City was just a short hike from the ancient ruins of Pallpoli. The site of the new city was a result of an uneasy compromise between the Orrian High Council, then located in Terrekka’s City, and the bustling, ever growing megalopolis of Ballalta’s City. The space age had transformed the once quaint resort city into the most influential region on the planet. In a very short span of time Galactic Mining was born and quickly made innovations that revolutionized the harvesting of raw materials from space. Along with the successes of their mining ventures came a certain political clout, an unelected power that threatened the claim on global law once reserved by the powerful families of Terrekka. The center of political power had begun to shift for the first time in Orrian history. If the High Council was to remain relevant in the space age it was going to have to wrestle the power back from the upstarts in Ballalta.

In the beginning the High Council had very little sway over the activities of Galactic and the “elected” officials in Ballalta. The council may have gotten what it wanted when it was granted oversight of all space-related issues; however, they were only issues if Galactic let them be issues. Even after the new city was completed life in the “Gateway City" charged ahead with little regard for the toothless proclamations of the High Council. Despite the reality of the situation the government in New Pallpoli held on tightly to its charter. It did not matter that every proclamation ignored by Galactic only exposed it for the sham everybody knew it was. It wasn’t until the advent of photonic anti-matter light drives did the true genius of the charter’s author's come to the fore. With the ability to traverse interstellar space the opportunity to stretch the boundaries of the council’s influence was limitless. As written and ratified all policies relevant to intergalactic activity was under the rule of the High Council. Initially it encompassed only deep space probes that reached the edge of the Orrian solar system and beyond. However, the language of the charter was very specific leaving little room for interpretation. There was a battle of wills that lasted for decades. Eventually a tumultuous agreement was forged between Galactic and the council that cemented the seat of power in New Pallpoli. Galactic Mining became Galactic Mining and Mapping when it was given exclusive rights to chart the galaxy. In exchange for turning over the reigns to the council, Galactic was given right of first refusal over everything it discovered. The High Council provided the guarantee that no one would challenge Galactic. But it was the council that approved each survey target, dictating how the galaxy would be explored. The council estimated that it would take Galactic forty centuries to complete the task. Twenty-nine hundred years had passed and barely ten percent of the galaxy had been charted. The galaxy, as it turned out, was more crowded than anyone had expected. Despite the slow progress the arrangement served Orrian interests quite well until that fateful day when Deppopio ventured out on his twenty first-survey mission.

The discovery of human beings on another world profoundly changed life on Orr in every conceivable way. The age-old question of ‘are we alone in the universe’ had finally been answered leaving only one profound question left to ask. Were there more? An answer to that question was brought back ten days ago by the young explorer, known as Dakkalia of Terrekka’s City. It was not the answer anyone wanted to hear. The galaxy, once an unrestricted playground for Orrian adventurers had suddenly become a very dangerous place. Indeed, more humans had been discovered out there, many, many more. Aggressive warriors bent on destruction and annihilation, seeking only conquest and domination, waging an ancient war with unimaginable weapons. With a mastery of intergalactic transport these wretched barbarians were an Orrian’s worst nightmare. Earth, poor little Earth, once feared as the destroyer of Orrian culture, seemed the least of their worries now.

She could feel the transporter begin it’s descent into the heart of the mountains. From the conmpad on the armchair she punched a button changing the hull from opaque to transparent in the blink of an eye. Below them, nestled in the nap of mighty mountain peaks was the gleaming city of New Pallpoli. A tiny municipality compared to ancient giants like Terrekka or Ballalta, but striking nonetheless. New Pallpoli served only the Orrian High Council and a host of government entities within its walls. Surrounded on all sides by snow capped mountains it was considered the one of the most beautiful places on the planet.

They left on foot from the depot deciding to take the strollway to Soll’s office. There were few people on the strollways; They were paid little attention as they hustled by. Strange as it seemed there very few young people. No one hanging from the balconies or sailing about the with floatpacks. Everyone here walked with a purpose. No one fed the birds, nobody engaged in idle chat or simple sight seeing, and it was so quiet. It was as if they had been set down on another planet.

Standing above everything else was the magnificent Meridian Building. It was center of the city, the hub that connected all the spokes. The massive tower stood as a signpost, a beacon, drawing them in, promising something grand. The Meridian Building was a like city unto itself. Not only did it serve as the primary chamber for the council it was a marketplace and entertainment mecca that rivaled anything in Ballalta’s Galaxy Building. All of one’s desires could be fulfilled under one roof. It was one of the most sought after address in the world.

Soll’s office was located on the main level where all the associate members were placed. Only one man had a key to the tower. For the foreseeable future that person would be Deppopio. Few people had ever been in the tower. Only an invitation from the Supreme High Chair himself would allow one to enter it. It was considered a high honor to be so invited. In it’s seven thousand years the tower guest list only numbered in the hundreds. Dakk wondered privately if that number would be going up today.

He felt the presence of someone’s eyes upon him. He spun to see two men on a balcony with high-resolution opticals strapped to their heads. “We’ve been made!”

“I see them,” she said as she turned away. “What will we do now?”

“It’ll up on the wave in a matter of seconds. I don’t think it will make any difference what we do.” He looked at her and shrugged, “me and my bright ideas.”

“They were watching the depot, you know they were,” she pleaded. “I’m amazed we got this far...”

Suddenly people came at them from everywhere. Dakk grabbed her hand and held on tightly as a crush of people tried to pry them apart. They all cheered and clapped. Everyone wanted to touch him. They hoisted him up on their shoulders and he dragged Livv with him. The crowd of people passed their helpless bodies down the strollway, everyone struggling to reach out and touch Dakkalia as he went by. It was frightening at first, but everyone was gentle and careful with them as the moved down the line straight for the Meridian Building. Suddenly a shadow passed over them. A transporter hovered perilously close. It was moving with them down the strollway as their bodies bounced along the mass of people. Before they knew what was happening two men reached down from the open door of the transporter and began to pull them up. A few people held their legs, preventing them from being pulled up. One man wearing the emblem of The Supreme High Chair stood just inside the cabin, barely visible. Someone in the crowd was shouting. “He’s one of Deppopio’s! Let them go!” The crowd hushed and let go of them.

When they both were safely inside the man with the patch on his shoulder barked out a command and the transporter whisked away at a tremendous rate of speed. He reached down and offered Livv a hand. Dakk, already standing upright, grabbed her other hand and together they pulled her up. “I don’t know how to thank you," Dakk said gratefully. “Where did you come from?”

The man pointed to the pinnacle of the tower. “There.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Deggneba. I serve at the pleasure of Deppopio. Now, my friends, I serve the both of you because it is his pleasure.”

“Where are we going?” Livv asked pensively.

He turned and pointed to the tower. “To the top, my lady. An invitation has been extended.”

“I see,” said Dakk as squeezed her hand. He smiled to himself, “Add two to the guest list.”

***

“I’ve poured over the ship’s catalog for ten days, barely taking time to sleep,” Kerrekka told Deppopio, his voice straining, his eyes looking red and puffy. Kerrekka, the last true descendant of the family of Terrekka, was the High Council’s controller at the Dass Quarantine Station. His team was responsible for the quarantine and inspection of all survey crews and their ships before and after each mission. “Based on what we analyzed so far I recommend you waste no time and invoke Level One of the Invading Forces provision.” He saw the incredulity on Depp’s face. “No, I don’t think I’m over reacting!”

“You said yourself,” Sollalia started, “that the pilot slipped this... Sirenese warship in the event horizon of black hole. Correct me if I’m wrong,” he said looking at Depp, “absolutely nothing escapes the gravity of a black hole, right.” Kerrekka stared at him, his eyes wide open, but he said nothing. “How are they going to get word back to their people about us?”

“I don’t think you understand...” he said with flared nostrils, “they know about us! They’ll be coming for us.”

“How soon?” Soll said calmly, trying to soothe Kerrekka’s growing anxiety. “Tomorrow? Ten days, Ten years? Ten thousand?”

“That all depends…”

“Depends on what?” Deppopio asked, his back to them now as he looked out the window toward the Network depot.

“If our friends have cracked the General Theory of Chaos.”

“Explain...” Deppopio said swinging around to face them.

“Young Dakkalia was being pursued by an advanced warship that was able to match his every move. In order to break the light barrier in rapid succession, and eliminate the effect of the disorientation that accompanies light tripping he programmed the ships console using the General Theory of Chaos. The ship then automatically set the break out coordinates using the Star Catalog database for the next trip an executed it without his input.” Soll listened intently since Dakk was unable to tell the whole story last night. Kerrekka continued. “If you follow this reasoning to its logical conclusion you realize that for all intents and purposes he would still be out there until his fuel cells were depleted or, sadly he failed and was destroyed in his effort to lead them away from this planet.”

“Why?” asked Deppopio.

“I’ll tell you what did happen and let you see the dilemma I’m facing. At one point he was able to overcome the deleterious effects of breakout and halt the program. It was then he tried something no one else had ever even thought of doing. He set his breakout point on the teeter side of the event horizon of Ravvetti’s Black Hole ? the first one,” he raised his eyebrows, “yes, the big one. The incredible thing is that he survived it at all. The warship, without foreknowledge of the danger, thankfully, did not.”

“Then why need to rush into Level One and begin arming ourselves.” Soll asked. “There’s no evidence they have the slightest knowledge of Orr’s whereabouts.”

“That’s where you are wrong," Kerrekka snapped. "And I'll tell you why...
Dakkalia programmed his ship to use the General Theory of Chaos using only systems in the Star Catalog... It was the only way he’d be certain to clear in and out of darkspace without fear of a collision in an uncharted system.”

“So,” Soll replied with raised eyebrows.

“Do I need to remind you what’s in that catalog?”

“So, what are you trying to say…” Soll stated quizzically, “is that based on the forty darkspace jumps that Dakk made they could extrapolate a path to Orr? You said yourself that he filtered out Orr and the colonies.”

“All it would take is for them to find one of the unsanctioned colonies. There are at least as many of them as there are recognized colonies... All portals point to here,” Kerrekka said emphatically. “They may have to run the chaos program a couple of billion times, but I have no doubt that they will.”

“In other words,” Deppopio rebuked him, “it could take them thousands of years to find this planet?”

“It’s possible,” Kerrekka replied. “Or, as I was trying to say, it may be as early as tomorrow.” Kerrekka began pacing, he was clearly agitated by the seeming calmness Sollalia and his mentor presented in the face of such an obvious threat. “We are in grave danger here and the sooner we accept it the better.”

“Calm down, Kerrekka," Depp urged. “I quite agree that this new discovery renders everything we thought we knew unrecognizable. It will take some time for this all to sink in. One day is not enough to absorb the true ramifications - there is so much we do not know...”

Kerrekka sat for the first time. “Perhaps you’re right. I think I’ve become a bit obsessed myself. However, I think you will all feel the way I do when my full report is filed. We can talk more rationally then, I suppose... Deppopio, Sollalia, please forgive me.”

“Nonsense,” Sollalia said heartily. “We all respect and rely on you, Kerrekka. You are the real rock here. And as always, we will lean on you once again... Perhaps you can tell us more.”

“All right then,” he said with a quick smile, the enthusiasm returning to his voice, “there are several things we know for certain. We have been able to decode their data storage and mathematical protocols and translate a rather complicated base language, both verbal and written. It’s not as complicated as, say the Japanese language of Earth, but similar in the fact that they use single symbols that encompass many meanings. With that we have been able to piece together a rough history going back nearly thirty thousand years, when the war started.”

“A war that has lasted thirty thousand years?” Soll said in disbelief. “What could they possibly be fighting over?”

“Women.”

“Women?” Deppopio scoffed. “What do you mean?”

“Breeders are what they prize. They pamper them, cater to their every need.” Kerrekka said with a lilt in his voice. “You see woman produce the one thing they can’t replace in their war factories.”

“Warriors!” Depp exclaimed. “Baby machines...”

“Uneducated and unwanting.”

“For the love of Terrekka herself,” Soll shuddered. “It’s slavery, it’s repulsive, vile…”

Without warning Deppopio abruptly stood and walked out of the room leaving them to wonder what could’ve been so urgent. Soll leaned over the table to glimpse the embedded display that Depp had been looking at. “There’s a problem on Earth!”

“What kind of problem?” asked Kerrekka.

“It doesn’t say...” Soll shrugged. Deppopio returned as fast as he left and stood at the head of the table, his stone face expression gave them no clues as to the nature of the problem.

“I’m afraid I’ve got some rather disturbing news,” he began, “two days ago it was confirmed that one of the fixed satellites in orbit around Earth suddenly changed its target. It is no longer directing a daily transmission to our deep space relay stations.”

“Then where?” asked Kerrekka.

“It has a new target. The planet Siren.”

“How could this happen?” cried Soll. His mind raced as the horrifying implications unfolded before him. “Hold on,” he stopped, and abruptly turned to Depp. “You said this happened two days ago? Why weren’t we told until now?”

“I can assure you that if you could’ve been any help I would have called upon you. I gave Viddelio one day to repair it before I came to you and announced it. They asked for two. With the celebration in Ballalta capturing so much attention last night I conceded and gave them a second night. That is why I am here, now. They have failed. The very best people at Galactic can’t get control of this thing.”

“Then they have no choice but to initiate the fail safe,” Soll cried. “Destroy it! Destroy it now!”

“They can do nothing,” Depp said with finality.

“What does it mean for Earth?” asked Kerrekka innocently.

“Lacking relay stations it will take the transmissions approximately twenty years to reach the boundaries of Sirenese space as we now know them.”

“Then we’ve got to stop them,” Soll pleaded. “We’ve got to send someone to Earth and stop that thing!” His hysterics seemed out of character. The original preservationist had suddenly become very protective of Earth. His outburst was not one born of possessiveness, but rather a reaction to fear. His motives were more than transparent, they were crystal clear.

“Yes, I know, Soll.” Depp said to his highly animated friend. “I have authorized the mission and I am assembling a crew as we speak.” He stepped back from the table and looked out the large curved window behind him. “As a matter of fact I think I see them coming now.” He pointed out the pad as it slowly extended from the deck in front of them. Like a friendly hand welcoming the incoming transporter it presented marker lights that pulsed with a soft blue luminescence. As the transporter came to rest on the pad the door blinked out and three figures stood in the open doorway.

Dakkalia stood like a statue staring at his father, his straight face belying the smile that beamed inside him. The highest possible honor bestowed on a citizen of Orr was to be invited to the tower of the Meridian Building. Standing motionless, absorbing the moment, he felt as though it was all a dream.

“Allow me Kerrekka,” Deppopio said as he greeted the guests, “to introduce our visitors. I would like you to meet Deggneba. He is the newest member of my staff and accomplished pilot.” With a wink and a smile he slapped Deggneba on the shoulder and moved down to stand next to Dakk. “This young man, ladies and gentlemen, needs no introduction. This young lady, Livvevea,” Depp continued, “I’m pleased to call my friend. Livv keeps her eye on Soll for us, and is surely no stranger around here. I’m glad to see you again.” He stepped back and as if on cue three chairs were brought in and placed at the table. “Please, sit... Everyone sit. We have a lot of work to do.”

For several hours Dakk recalled his incredible journey. Kerrekka sat motionless for the first time, completely fascinated as the boy brought to light new details not mentioned in previous interviews. Each horror he described brought into sharper focus the certain demise of Earth. He could see the effect his story was having on his father. Soll squirmed in his chair repeatedly, like a child waiting to be punished. It was clear that the mission to Earth could not depart soon enough for him. When word came that several nations on Earth were planning to send rockets up to investigate the anomaly a sense of urgency enveloped him. The mission, set for the following day at dawn, could conceivably put them in direct contact with the primitives in Earth’s orbit. Depp assured the rest of the council that contact would not be necessary, and simply would not be permitted. Deggneba would act as the mission commander ensuring the protocols set forth by the Earth Doctrine were strictly adhered to. Dakkalia would pilot the Galactic lightship, Jakkarti, which was currently enroute back from Orr’s newest colony, Juggedda’s World. The ship was specifically designed for deploying and retrieving remote satellites. They would remove the malfunctioning unit and reposition the remaining three. The engineers at Galactic wrote a new configuration program that would have the Orrian satellites use Earth’s own satellite network to gather information from the surface.

With the plan set into motion and small talk dominating the conversation around the table Soll quietly excused himself. At first no one even noticed he was gone. Only Depp joined him on the deck as he waited for a transporter to pick him up.

“My dear friend, you seem upset about something,” Depp asked him. “What is it?”

“Who could’ve done this?” Soll asked his mentor. “I’ve been going over and over it in my mind. There’s only one person who has that kind of access without involving the council.”

“Viddelio?”

“Yes, but it makes no sense. What possible purpose would he want to see Earth destroyed?”

“Blackmail,” Depp said simply.

“What? Blackmail? Vidd has known of our investigation for years. How could blackmail be the motive?”

“Think about it, Soll. What have we got? We've got nothing. We may know about the artifacts but we have no singular evidence as to how he has done it. However, there are two people that do know.”

“And they are?”

“One is the Renegade, that I am sure of, and the other, of course, is Larrvino.”

“How do you know that?”

“I have my sources.” Depp’s sharp smile convinced Soll pursuing that slant would bear no fruit. “Now, I believe we can all but eliminate the Renegade as a suspect, but Larr, that’s another story altogether. This new Renegade has no reason to want to see Earth destroyed. All the evidence points that way. Larrvino, on the other hand, despises Earth and has worked tirelessly to eliminate its influence on Orr for the past twenty years. What better way to accomplish his goal than by planting the seed of its destruction? Larr has undoubtedly uncovered the machinations of Vidd’s little empire on Earth and has threatened to expose it.”

“How can we prove it?”

“We can’t. Unless one of them makes a mistake.”

“Surely Larr must know that the Sirenese will not stop at the destruction of Earth. After they realize that the primitives could not have possibly generated the signals that led them there they will search us out until the end of time.”

“I think he knows exactly what he has done. Try to think like Larr. How can we guarantee that Earth is not destroyed by the barbarians from Siren.”

Soll looked in horror as he thought an inconceivable thought. “You can’t be serious. He couldn’t possibly expect...”

“I’m afraid so. To protect Orr we will be forced to destroy Earth ourselves.”

Soll collapsed on the deck. Depp rushed to prop him up fearing that the others might see. But the truth was more than even he could bear, and how ironic that it would be his decision to make. How much simpler life would have been had he never discovered that shining blue planet in an insignificant little corner of a remarkably vast galaxy.

Chapter 12

2004-12-17T21:06:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

It was like nothing she had ever imagined. The cosmos held more beauty in one eyeful than most people would see in a dozen lifetimes. She had her nose pressed up against the cockpit window like child in the back of a station wagon. It was as if sparkling diamonds had been scattered on a black velvet background; a billion stars littered the heavens before her. She pushed herself across the cabin seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was floating four feet above the deck. On the port side she could see the blue and white splendor of planet Earth. It was enough to take her breath away. Earth in all its splendid beauty was an oasis of color in a desert of blackness.

Captain Mcdonnel watched in amusement as Julia floated from one side of the cabin to other like a puppy in a pet shop window. He envied her sense of wonderment, having lost his many, many flights ago. His opinion of her had changed. He had been prepared to deal with a prima donna, an uppity television star, but she was not the head case he expected. Besides her disarming beauty she was bright and engaging, not at all a self-centered brat he pictured in his mind. It would make the one thing his wife asked of him that much easier. He was not to land the spacecraft, she told him, until he had gotten an autograph for all the grand kids.

Despite their late start NASA was confident their superior radar and laser technology gave them the edge in finding the object. Coordinates from the Global Array pointed to spot 23,000 miles above the equator, somewhere between communication satellites Galaxy 11 and G-Star 17. NORAD had confirmed this general vicinity for each event. In the days preceding the launch ground stations had been meticulously sweeping the geosynchronous arc with powerful lasers and monitoring the beams for any diffusion that would indicate a solid object. While the concept proved sound all they managed to accomplish was to verify every piece of junk that traditional tracking methods already held in inventory. Whatever this "thing" was it changed the meaning of the word stealth. They were going to have to get close enough to eyeball it.

The captain, who was busy going over a post launch check off list with ground control, paid little attention to what Major Jank was doing. When Julia turned away from the window for the first time she found Jank pointing some kind of futuristic looking weapon at her. She recoiled as he jerked the gun back as if it had been fired.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded.

"Relax! For Christ’s sakes, it isn’t loaded." Jank looked at the captain and smiled wiyh raised eyebrows. "A bit touchy isn’t she?"

Mcdonnel chuckled half-heartedly. "Listen, Dan, I think it’s a federal crime to threaten a sitting ambassador."

"What is that?" Julia insisted.

"It’s my weapon."

"Why would you need a weapon?"

"Do I have to draw you a picture?" He pointed to the Air Force patch on his arm. "I’m here to provide security. I intend to be prepared."

"Prepared for what?" Julia snapped.

"Listen, miss, if this turns out to be alien technology, and I’m not saying it is, ahem..." he directed his glance at the captain, "but just in case..." He held up the rifle. "No telling what kind of fantastic weapons it might have."

"Think about it..." she scoffed. "Why would presumably intelligent beings leave advanced weapons where they might easily fall into the wrong hands. "

He pointed the gun at the ceiling as his body went into a free fall roll toward the back of the cabin. "Well, we can't be too careful now, can we? Besides I’d like to be the first one to try this thing out."

"What is it?" Mcdonnel asked.

"I’m glad you asked that, Travis. This is what is known as the MINTAR. That stands for ‘miniature nuclear tipped assault rifle’. We like to call it our hand held missile silo. This little baby packs quite a wallop. Just let those ruskies get in my way... BOOM!" He floated away laughing a perfectly maniacal laugh.

"You are insane, Jank," shouted the captain. "And stop scaring the ambassador."

"What is wrong with that man?" Julia asked rhetorically.

"I think he’s just yanking your chain. I don’t think he’s bought into the whole space ambassador thing."

"Have you?" she asked pensively. "Have you bought into the space ambassador thing?"

Mcdonnel hesitated, gathering his thoughts, careful not to say the right thing the wrong way.

"To be perfectly honest, at first, no, I did not. Jank has a good point." Julia did not react, still he felt obligated to justify his declaration. "I can't say he's all wrong either. Honestly, on the surface it looks like a pretty obvious political ploy to help an ailing presidency, am I right?" She nodded slightly. "But, hell, after meeting you and seeing your dedication to the truth I support you all the way. The Major does too. Don’t let him fool you. He’s here because he’s the best there is, and he loves his country. We’re both glad to have you along."

"Thank you. I appreciate that. I want you to know I am not here on the behalf of the President’s poll numbers. I’m here to find the truth and to represent my country, in that order."

"Here, here."

For the longest time there was silence in the cockpit. The captain continued his seemingly endless task of system analysis. She had sensed the air of disrespect Jank held for the captain. It didn't seem to bother Travis Mcdonnel.

"Why did Jank give you that dirty look when he was talking about aliens?"

Mcdonnel blushed. "That’s a long story."

"I want to hear it."

"No you don’t," the captain rebuffed. "It’s nothing really, kind of silly..."

"I’ve heard them all," she assured him. "Nothing you would say could surprise me, really."

He pulled off his headset and looked over his shoulder for Jank. "Okay, but this is between me and you. People have been grounded for telling tales if you know what I mean… It was Christmas time, two years ago, my wife and I were flying home to the Baltimore area. Both our families are up there. We have a little Cessna I fly back and forth to the Cape when I’m on an assignment. It was twilight, maybe 4:30 or 5:00, when Carol, that’s my wife, saw what she thought was a plane sitting right off the starboard wing. I mean it was close. It had lights but it didn’t look like any plane I’d ever seen. I thought, well, you bastard. So I banked hard left and she’s yelling ‘he’s still there’! By now, of course, I’m getting pretty pissed off. I pulled the plane up another thousand feet. It stuck with me like glue. I couldn’t seem to shake it. So I got on the radio and blasted a few choice expletives his way. Within a matter of seconds my own voice came blaring back at me. It was as if it recorded my voice and transmitted it back to me. I mean to tell you it was weird. I tried a couple more moves, granted my little Cessna is no F-22, but I can whip it around pretty good. Whoever was flying that thing was every bit as good as me.

"I called the international airport in Atlanta and asked them if they could get a transponder signal from this jerk. They darn near asked me if I had been drinking. They asked me for my pilots license number and then told me there was nothing there. Then, just like that, the damn thing just took off. Left me there like I was standing still. No plane ever made could move that quickly. I don’t know what it was. Unfortunately I never got a real good look at it like Carol did. She was pretty shook up. She’s been a UFO buff ever since. She has every re-run of the X-Files on disk and every episode of S.E.T.I.'s Universe too. She’s your biggest fan."

"I’m flattered," she said. "That’s actually a very common sort of story. You feel like you were being toyed with and left sitting there as if it grew bored with you."

"Yes! That’s it, exactly..." Just then the Captain was distracted by a flashing light on the control panel. He shoved his headset back on and listened intently. Julia studied his eyes, trying to judge by his expression what he was being told. She knew something was wrong. "Could you repeat that ground control? I’m going to put you on the speakers so the rest of the crew can hear this." He turned his head and yelled: "Hey, Jank, get up here!"

The major quickly pulled himself up from the galley. "What’s up?"

"Just listen," the captain told him. "Go ahead, ground control."

"We have just confirmed that there’s been an accident aboard the Russian shuttle. All four cosmonauts are dead. The Russian Space Command is offering no details but we are speculating there was some sort of hull breach. Death was probably instant and painless."

Julia felt a pang of anxiety rush through her veins. Her life began to flash before her eyes. She too was separated from instant death by only a few inches of hull material. She stared into Captain Mcdonnel’s eyes looking for reassurance; he nodded slightly and smiled.

"I don’t understand," Jank said incredulously, "what about their pressure suits?"

"Don’t know," said the captain. "There’s more..."

"Following the reports out of Moscow," the voice of ground control continued, "CNN is reporting that top Russian officials are blaming the American SDI system. A formal complaint has been filed with the United Nations in New York. President Gladinov is scheduled to call President Cole within the hour for an explanation. It has been speculated that this was all preplanned in the event of an accident. A little finger pointing to deflect the attention from themselves. They’re covering their asses, boys and girls. By the way, there has been no comment from the White House."

"Do you have a twenty on the Araine?" asked Captain Mcdonnel.

"The Araine? Just a second… Altitude, approximately 17,000 miles. You should have them on your radar in 22 minutes. Speed and trajectory calculations have you overtaking them at an altitude of 20,000 miles."

"Copy that, ground control. Keep us posted."

Captain Mcdonnel pulled off his headset and turned toward Jank. "It’s tough, man, you always hate to lose a fellow traveler even if it is a Russian." Jank nodded but said nothing. "Let’s have a moment of silence for our fallen comrades." Julia lowered her head and clamped her eyes shut. Jank remained silent as the captain made the sign of the cross. For an indiscernible amount of time only the humming of the equipment could be heard in the eerie silence of space. Then, Mcdonnel, his eyes still closed, sighed and made the sign of the cross again before raising his head. "Okay, kids, it’s back to work."

The whole thing left Julia feeling uneasy. What if the ‘thing’ itself was the cause of the cosmonauts’ deaths? After all, she thought, the Russians were first to launch. Was the Araine next? Then what? She floated away keeping her fears to herself. Pulling herself through the impossibly small portals she made her way to the sleeping quarters just off the galley below the main deck. There she lay down on the cot-like bed and fastened the Velcro straps.

She wasn’t tired but closed her eyes anyway. She could hear Major Jank rustling around in the storage compartment. Soon, she was able to block him out of her mind. Never intending to doze she began to drift off, residing in that place between consciousness and sleep.

She looked up to see the man and the boy tying off hand twisted lines from each of the small tree’s spindles. The man was explaining how they would have to visit the tree every few weeks to tighten the lines until the tree was big enough for them to set up tensioners. She was amused that the man seemed more impressed with the whole process than did the boy. The boy, for his part, was far more interested in the little snake he had found. Neither of them seemed to know she was there. Finally, the man stood, wiping his brow he asked her for a drink. She looked down to the basket that was sitting at her feet and saw a carafe of juice glistening in the sun. Without a word she handed it to him and watched as he drank his fill. He handed it back and kissed her on the cheek. As he walked away she felt a tear roll down her face. The feel of the cool breeze drying the lonely tear on her cheek made her whole body shudder. Somehow, some way, she loved this man...

She awoke to the sound off Captain Mcdonnel yelling at the top of his lungs. How long had she been away? These dreams were becoming too frequent. She was beginning to scare herself; it was too easy to lose herself in that peaceful world inside her dreams. She could not let it happen again.

She pulled herself up from the galley to find both the captain and Jank sitting in their chairs alternately reading the instrument panel and looking out the cockpit windows. "We’ve got the Araine on radar," said the captain. "Come on up here, sleepy head, help us get a visual."
She pressed her face against the window trying to get a panoramic view. "What exactly am I looking for?" she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"A capsule," Jank said. "An Apollo-like module. We should be damn near on top of them right now." She glanced down at the radar screen. The blip representing the Araine was poised to merge with the center of the screen. "Where the hell are you?" he whispered aloud. The captain had set the attitude rockets to fire in a sequence that would put the orbiter into a slow roll so they could see everything above and below them. It seemed impossible to expect to see a tiny white fleck against the profound immenseness of outer space. "It should be right there, right now! Can’t you see it!"

"There!" screamed Julia. "I see it!"

"Confirmed. I’ve got it too," said Mcdonnel. "I’ll get a camera on it." He busily adjusted the starboard wing-mounted camera. Properly aimed he began zooming it in until the registration numbers were clearly legible on the base of the Araine module. "Houston, this is the Patriot confirming visual sighting of the ESA’s Araine module. I’ll be sending you some pictures in four seconds... three... two..." He flicked a switch and the broadcast monitor flashed to life. "T.T.F.N. my little French friends."

The major held up his arm. "Gotta love those Europeans, eh Travis," he tapped the face of his watch, "always right on ‘sscchhedule’."

"Do you mean to tell me you really knew, right down to the minute, when we would see them?" Julia asked, her unbelieving eyes darting back and forth between the two of them.

"Minute, hell," complained the captain, "we had it pegged right down to the second."

Jank smiled at her disbelieving face. "It’s easy when you have a copy of their flight plan." He chuckled and the captain laughed along with him. "We still have the best damn spies in the world!"

"Patriot," came the voice of ground control over the speakers, "We have you reaching the search start point at Galaxy 11 in approximately 19 minutes. The Araine cannot increase its speed and will take an additional 60 minutes to reach the same point. You will have one hour to locate it, assess it, and take it aboard if possible before company arrives. Our window of opportunity is very, very small, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s make the best of it."

***

Galaxy 11 was sitting 300 meters away from the idling Patriot. The enormous solar panels that gave it life made it look fantastically huge against the empty blackness of space. They were waiting for the word from Houston that the laser had been synchronized with the shuttle’s search program. The beam, as deep a green as they had ever seen, was currently trained on the satellite giving it an eerie profile. The shuttle’s computer was then fed the diffusion patterns the ground stations had collected over the past two days. Any discrepancies were to be investigated.

"Patriot, we are ready to commence on your mark," said ground control.

Captain Mcdonnel looked at his crew. "Are we ready?"

"Let’s get it on," urged the major.

"Houston, we have a go, on my mark... Five... Four... Three... Two... Sequence initiated."

The Patriot began to move, the laser beam leading the way. Major Jank peered out the cockpit window with a pair of peculiar looking binoculars. By flicking a switch he could instantly convert them into an infrared device, a useful tool in the darkened shroud of outer space. Julia’s binoculars seemed a bit more conventional, no active electronics or fancy filters, just the traditional focus wheel to fiddle with. For nearly forty minutes they cruised along the imaginary line known as the geosynchronous arc passing one piece of space junk after another. Nothing was out of place. Nothing tripped the alarm. It was clear the major was becoming discouraged. He had become quite good at spotting dead satellites tumbling in place well before the computer checked them off. Each one gave him an instant jolt only to have the rug pulled out from under him as the computer blurted the dissonant sounder of another miss.

Just when she thought he was only going through the motions she heard him gasp. She spun her self around to see his mouth agape and his face turning pale. "What is it?"

"Stop! For Gods sake, Travis, stop this thing and back it up. Now!"

Still no alarm had sounded. Almost instantly radio chatter from Houston bombarded him. "Dan," he shouted as the shuttle slowly reversed itself, "I’ll stop the beam on your mark... What do I tell these guys?"

"Tell them to keep their pants on, damn it!" He motioned Julia to join him at the port side window. "I want you to scream the instant you see anything… You understand me?"
"Yes," she answered. "Anything."

"Keep your eye on that beam." He held his hand up so that Mcdonnel could clearly see it. When his hand dropped the captain would freeze the beam in place putting the search program into a wait-state. "C’mon, baby..." He whispered.

"Oh my God!" she screamed. Jank’s arm went down and the captain hit the mark. "Do you see it major? God almighty, do you see it?"

"We’ve got it, Travis! No wonder those poor bastards never saw this thing... Somehow its splitting and bending the laser beam around itself. It’s like a birdcage." Mcdonnel floated over and took the binoculars from Jank. Julia was transfixed, her eyes never straying from the subject.

"What the..." Mcdonnel gasped. "I see the bulge but I don’t see anything else."

Jank ripped the binoculars from Mcdonnel’s face. "It's in there... Bring us in closer." The captain pulled himself back into his chair and quickly narrowed the radar’s focus as tight as it would go and still nothing appeared on the screen. He looked up at Jank and shook his head slowly. "I said, bring us in closer!"

"What about Houston? Is this it?"

"Yes," Jank said quietly. "I’m sure of it."

Julia was too. She saw it in there. It was as black as the night, indistinguishable from the space it occupied, but she had all the evidence she would need. It was not, in fact, what she saw, but rather, what she didn’t see. There were no stars behind it. As she moved her perspective she could see stars winking in and out. "He’s right, it’s in there. It’s inside the bulge. If you watch it closely you can see how some kind of solid object blocks out the stars behind it. I’m telling you, Captain, it’s there."

"Move us in closer," Jank requested for the third time.

"All right, I’m acting on your word. Time to observe radio silence." The captain floated over to the comm panel and with a flick of a switch cut the Patriot off from Houston and the rest of the world. "We’re on our own. Let’s go!"

Captain Mcdonnel carefully fired the maneuvering thrusters. The shuttle inched ever closer. Jank was glued to the window. "What the hell is it?" he whispered. When the Patriot was fifty meters away he could make out its silhouette. It was spherical, about two meters across and totally black. It reminded him of a giant eight ball.

Suddenly the beam cut off. "Damn them," Mcdonnel swore. "Why did they do that?"

"You shut them off," Julia explained, "what did you expect?"

"Doesn’t matter," Major Jank injected as he floated toward the airlock. "We won’t need them now."

Julia stared in disbelief. "You are not going out there," she demanded.
"Of course I am. What the hell do you think I’m here for?"

"But we don’t know what it is. We don’t even know if it’s dangerous or not."

"I’ll tell you what we do know. We know that we have less than an hour before the Europeans arrive. We know that we can get to within fifty meters of it and it won’t shoot at us. I say that’s enough to go on." Without pausing to even consider her objections he proceeded to don his EVA suit. "Listen, you two can sit in here and study it all you want. My mission is to keep this thing from falling into the wrong hands, even it means destroying it… Do you understand?"

She looked at Mcdonnel’s face and knew he would do nothing to stop Jank from fulfilling his stated duty. He merely watched in silence as Jank loaded the MINTAR with live nuclear rounds. The major was long past the point of no return.

Soon he was sealed in the airlock doing a final check on the operation of his suit. The jetpack unit contained eighteen miniature thrusters that would move him through the vacuum of space with the ease of fingertip control. He would exit the Patriot through the cargo bay and approach the object cautiously, moving in decreasing concentric circles until he was upon it. If there was any fear in him at all, it was buried deep; hiding behind fiery eyes, lurking in the shadows of a soldier’s mind that was trained to reject it.

Julia sat next to the captain and watched the monitors. Jank made his way through the cargo bay with the grace of an acrobat. He slipped past the mechanical arm and reached the back wall of the cargo bay where the satellite retrieval net was stowed. The captain explained how Major Jank was one of the men who tested the prototype of the SRS, the Satellite Retrieval System. It had been used successfully for years, but today it would be put to the ultimate test.

With the SRS net strapped to his utility belt he pulled the MINTAR from it’s holster and moved out of the cargo bay. Captain Mcdonnel trained the tail mounted camera on him as he sailed toward the alien object without the slightest hesitation. He circled it several times before saying anything. "Man, this thing is eerie..." he whispered. With the MINTAR out in front of him he began to tighten the circle. "Travis, I think I’m ready to go in. If was going to get me I think it would have happened by now. Agreed?"

"Yes," the captain said instantly. "Go ahead, but be careful. Mcdonnel out..."

Jank approached the object with slow deliberate moves, like a lion tamer trying not to spook his performers. "Christ, Travis, it looks like a giant eyeball. I’m about two meters away and I see no evidence that it is aware of my presence." He put his weapon back in the holster and inched closer to the object. With his gloved hand he reached out and touched its smooth surface.

"It’s like glass only smoother. It’s perfectly spherical with no outward features." From his utility belt he pulled out two electrodes. The electrodes would broadcast via short-range radio to the Patriot where Captain Mcdonnel would monitor them for signs of electrical activity. However, the major could not make them stick to its surface. They simply slid off forcing him to nab them before they could float away. "Geez, Teflon’s got nothing on this thing. Talk about your frictionless surface. Travis, I’m going to have to hold them in place for you to get any readings. Are you ready?"

"Ready when you are." He watched the oscilloscope screen but nothing happened. "Go ahead, Dan, I’m all set..."

"I am!"

Still nothing appeared on the scope. He adjusted the sensitivity by a factor of ten to no avail. He tapped on the screen with his knuckles. "Either this thing isn’t working or that thing is dead."
"Or..." Julia added, "It’s just playing dead."

"I say we haul it in," Jank declared. "We don’t have much time to think about it."

"He’s right," Mcdonnel said. "I’ve made my decision... Prepare the SRS net, we’re taking it home with us."

"Now you’re talking!"

Jank deftly unfurled the net, no small task in the frictionless void of outer space. With complete mastery of the jetpack controls he choreographed an elegant ballet using the metallic net and the alien sphere as props. When that was done he clamped a tow ring on the end and waited for the captain to release the towline. Propelled by spring action the towline zipped out of the cargo bay like a string tied to an arrow. Jank reached out, and just as if he’d rehearsed it a thousand times, grabbed the line and snapped it on the ring in one fluid motion.

"That was beautiful, Dan," marveled the captain. "Goddam, it nearly brought a tear to my eye." He engaged the winch and the object silently retreated into the jaws of the Patriot. "Eight ball in the corner pocket," he joked.

"Travis, close the bay doors on my mark," Jank said confidently. It seemed everything was going his way. He followed the object closely, like a soldier leading a prisoner to the gallows. The winch disengaged automatically and the object floated unaided the last ten meters. "Now, Travis! Now!"

With a press of a button the doors began closing, trapping the object in the belly of the Patriot. A small thud reverberated through the ship as object struck the floor of the bay. The impact absorbing material lining the floor prevented the object from rebounding back into the cargo bay doors. Jank immediately went to work strapping down the sphere securely for the twenty-three thousand-mile trip home.

Chapter 13

2004-12-16T21:24:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"And why am I here?" Gell yelled down from the deck of the transporter. He glanced over to the swamp and then smiled at Soll.

"The disk, I need it back."

"The disk?" Gell jumped down. "Ah, I’m afraid that’s going to be a problem."

"Why," Soll gulped. "Don’t tell me you’ve found the Renegade already."

"Not exactly."

"Well then, where exactly is it?"

"It’s a little hard to explain..." The boy felt like a trapped animal. His first instinct to run was tempered by the fresh memory of his last excursion into Terrekka’s untamed jungle. He reluctantly jumped down and stood next to Soll.

"Explain!" Soll shouted in desperation.

He didn’t have the guts to tell Soll the truth. It was his puerile lust for a beautiful woman that left him paralyzed and naked on the forest floor, stripped of the disk and what little dignity he had. The fact that it was Larrvino who saved him from the jaws of a hungry rigacat served only to rub salt in the wound. "I had to give it to somebody for safe keeping. Larrvino was all over me..."

"Sebbreba!" Soll declared.

"No...Wait! How did you know that?"

"She seems to know my every move these days."

"I know what you mean," Gell whispered, his eyes glazed over as the vision of her naked body danced in his head.

Suddenly, without a word of explanation, Soll leapt into the transporter. Gell, standing in stunned silence, couldn’t move. By the time he realized what was happening it was too late. Soll had used his High Council Network Override Clearance to take possession of Gell's transporter. It floated away leaving the boy stranded on the jungle floor. "You can’t leave me here!" Gell screamed.

Soll poked his head out the door as the transporter rose to clear the tops of the trees. "I’ll have the Network send out one for you... No time to explain... Sorry..."

"No, Come back!" Gell screamed louder. "Soll! Please... Don’t leave! I’ll be killed!" He continued yelling until it was painfully clear Soll was not going to turn back. He was alone again. He fell to his knees and wept.

With nightfall approaching he knew he should not be caught on the ground where he could fall easy prey to any of the jungles large nocturnal predators. Again he failed to carry along a sonic immobilizer that every child knew was essential when going jungleside. He sighed and hastily began climbing into the tree. When finally he was safely above the ground he checked with the Network and found that Soll had indeed ordered a transporter for him. Now all he could do was wait.

Darkness came quickly in the deep jungle. The trees, casting their long shadows, created a premature twilight on the forest floor. The spooky chorus had already begun. His eyes were sharp but his ears played tricks on him. He knew the real danger came not from the creatures that made those awful sounds but from the silent stalkers that provoked them. He nervously scanned the horizon for signs of a Network transporter. The minutes seemed like hours as each piercing screech and distant howl caused his heart to fill with dread. Oh, how he hated the jungle.

Finally, giving up all hope of a speedy deliverance he leaned back into the tree and gazed toward the stars. He quickly identified Jenninni’s Constellation, and just as he did as a child he followed an imaginary line from its tail to an indistinguishable yellow dwarf. Circling that rather ordinary star was a truly extraordinary planet. It was a world like no other. A world so rich in life that the catalog on it could never be complete. He knew more about that planet than anyone on Orr, perhaps, even more than own inhabitants, and more than anything else he longed to be there. Visions of Earthly paradises danced in his head. He closed his eyes and smiled to himself, ‘this is not so bad’. It was just about then the rain began to fall on his head.

***

Depp had long since given up feeling guilty about listening in on his daughter’s conversations. She was, after all, the daughter of the Supreme High Chair and had not been above using her position to gain certain advantages for herself and her friends. He understood that her young heart belonged to the Earth Party and would’ve thought it peculiar if it were any other way. She was instinctively smart and always conducted herself with the proper discretion, never embarrassing him or his staff. She was also tough, and played the political game as good as anyone. He had grown to rely on her counsel.

Never had he seen her so intense as she was right now. She had become thoroughly obsessed with the primitive, Julia Rayhied and her incredible resemblance to Teffiona. The American TV star was an enticing subject and he found himself caught up in the commotion over her as well, but for reasons his daughter would never know. He could see the whole thing was tearing Saffrina apart. How was it possible that Julia Rayhied looked exactly like Teff the day she left Orr for the last time? Nothing could explain it. Saff could not accept it as merely a fantastic coincidence. She had done extensive research on the lovely primitive, going so far as to employ the most dangerous person on Orr to help her.

The Renegade gained nothing by conspiring with her yet seemed only too eager to make a deal. It exposed the elusive one unnecessarily for reasons that remained unclear. Oddly though, it was saga of the little disk that piqued Depp's interest the most. Strange alliances had been forged to ensure it would not fall into the hands of Larrvino or any of his minions. First, young Gellseno, who, ironically, was an agent of Larrvino's gave it to Soll whom, in turn, gave it back to Gell who, in a dramatic game of bait and switch lost it to Sebbreba. Presently it found its way into Saffrina’s possession. It was his belief she intended to give it to the only one capable of delivering it to Earth. He awaited this exchange anxiously as it offered him the best opportunity he had to finally identify the slippery one. After two years of frustration, the new Renegade was within his reach.

He leaned back into the chair and smiled inwardly. He thought back to his days as the High Mentor at the Institute of Earth. There the young rebel from Terrekka’s City named Sollalia, met his match. He remembered vividly the moment he realized that the angry young man was in fact the outlaw he had so colorfully dubbed the Renegade. At first, his anger overwhelmed him; he wanted to have the boy exiled from Orr, sent off to suffer on some desert planet far away from the Orrian garden.

After he had calmed down and thought it through what he saw standing before him was an incredible challenge. Could this outlaw, this petty prankster be transformed into the perfect preservationist?

Without the boy’s knowledge or consent, he began the task of recreating a young version of himself. In the end, he had been successful beyond his wildest dreams. Sollalia not only became the man who single handedly crushed the Earth Party; he was now in position to gain the Supreme High Chair for himself. At least this was all true before she came into his life. Julia Rayhied, a mere primitive, had turned his protégéé, the son he never had into a bumbling fool. She had him on the verge of throwing everything away. The question everyone on Orr was asking had no clear answer. Where did she come from? How could she look so much like Teffiona? Saffrina’s own research could not tie this intriguing primitive’s appearance on the scene to any of Soll’s political enemies. In fact everything she had unveiled seemed to indicate Julia Rayhied was exactly what she appeared to be; a beautiful, talented TV star obsessed with uncovering the truth about the UFOs.

The superb ironies did not stop there. It was Sollalia himself who had unwittingly inspired the young woman’s career. As the original Renegade, he had brilliantly designed his drones to play on the superstitions and myths that had put the presence of UFO’s in every era of human history. Depp was particularly amused by the fanatical subculture that arose from it. Ultimately Julia Rayhied was a product of that subculture. In less than two years the UFO subculture had been elevated to the forefront of Earth’s collective psyche. Julia Rayhied was an authority figure whose influence surpassed the heads of governments. A fact she would surely consider lunatic if it were presented to her as such.

Even more amusing to him was how the government of the United States used the subculture to help conceal their own knowledge of an alien presence on Earth. The weeks and months that followed the crash of the Orrian shuttlecraft near Roswell, New Mexico saw an elaborate scheme set into motion. The plan was to use the UFO phenomenon to conceal a secret government that operated outside the view of the populace. The UFO’s and the crash provided the perfect smoke screen for activities that would not stand up under the harsh light of democracy. Behind the veil of the Cold War, the Americans used their rudimentary understanding of Orrian technology to stifle their enemies and to control their own people. To some extent Depp was sympathetic to the plight of the people in power at the time. What else could they do? They had to deny everything. The likelihood of panic and lawlessness was great. They could not reveal what they really knew and expect to keep their society under control. Orr’s own ancient history is rife with stories of visitors from distant planets and alternate dimensions. Terrekka herself was accused of being one. Who was to say the Orrians weren’t being observed and manipulated by a race of beings even more advanced than they. What would he do as the leader of the world if he were faced with the knowledge of such a presence? There were no easy answers, not for him, and not for President Liberty Cole of the United States. The Renegade had made her life as difficult as his. He had much respect for the primitive, perhaps, even felt a certain kinship with her. The battle was not going well for either of them. Not everything was lost though; his work would still bare fruit if only Soll let his heart guide him to the final challenge of his extraordinary life.

He watched Saffrina from a secret chamber as she held the alien disk before her eyes. The time was near; the call she had been waiting for would come like clockwork. The Renegade never deviated, an attribute Depp had hoped to exploit.

There was a muted sounder followed by an instant response. "I’m here!" she said enthusiastically.

"You have something for me?" asked the mysterious voice of the Renegade.

"Right here in the palm of my hand. We need to get it to Dakkalia as soon as possible."

"No good," said the elusive one. In a voice altered so carefully as to be utterly indistinguishable, having characteristics that were neither male nor female, the Renegade spoke plainly, "Dakkalia will be searched before he ever sets foot on that lightship."

The voice was something Depp had long since given up on. It proved useless to filter it with any sort contrast. Instead, he concentrated on the background sounds, which were, to his surprise, left unaltered. He could hear the unmistakable call of a takki hen and the patter of rain. He smiled to himself. Tonight’s call was coming from the jungleside.

"Our only hope of delivering the disk," continued the Renegade, "is to get it on that ship before Dakkalia boards it."

"Can you do that?"

"I can."

"What do you want in return?" Saffrina asked pointedly, but was met with silence. "Surely you must want something?"

"I’m afraid you couldn’t give me what I want. So, in the absence of that, let’s say I’m doing it just to stir things up... That’s what renegades do, you know."

"All right, if that’s the way you want it... So... how do I get it to you?"

"Send a courier drone in the direction of Ballalta’s City. I’ll intercept it before it ever gets there. But first, I need you to listen to me very carefully... It’s imperative you send it off the Network. Use High Council clearance commands. I will tell you this once - you are being watched... You already know that Larrvino has his fingers into everything. The Network has been compromised. The Wave isn’t far behind."

Depp was concentrating on the abundance of ambient sounds of the nocturnal jungle. His console had quickly processed a variety of animal calls. By using distinctive regional dialects he was able to place the Renegade on or near Terrekka’s Plateau. Knowing that, unfortunately, was of little value. It had long been suspected that the Renegade was a resident of Terrekka’s City. He had gotten this far before. This time, however, he was closing in on the complex algorithm the Renegade used to piggyback the signal on legitimate Wave addresses. This constantly changing addressing scheme had been thwarting him at for two years, until tonight. The longer the Renegade kept talking the more a predictable pattern emerged.

"There is one more thing..." Saffrina added. "How will Dakkalia know where it is?"

"You will tell him."

"I will tell him what?"

"Tell him he’ll be sitting on it."

"The pilot’s chair?" she asked.

"Yes, that will be perfect. I’m glad you thought of it."

Suddenly the Renegade was gone. "Are you there? Hello..."

Don’t go! Depp silently pleaded. He was so close this time - moments away from victory. Again, the Renegade knew the call was being traced. At the last conceivable moment the link was cut, the chase over. Depp knew that if he retrieved the courier drone he would risk chasing off the Renegade for good. He would also be exposing himself. Saffrina was never to know about his spying, this caveat he pledged himself to a very long time ago. He would have another chance at the Renegade. It wasn’t over yet.

***

"Where are you?" Larr demanded, his angry face filling the holoviewer. "Never mind that. Get to the New Pallpoli immediately."

Gell fumed. He was in a foul mood to begin with having finally been picked up from that dreadful jungle and again, Larr was demanding something without the slightest concern for what he wanted. Right now, soaking wet, tired and hungry his only desire was the refuge of the city. "Why?" he asked sarcastically. He was tired of Larr pushing him around. He was no
closer to Earth than the day he agreed to conspire against the only person who had treated him like an intellectual equal. Sollalia had always treated him with the respect he deserved. He was beginning to regret the whole thing. "Give up Larr, you’ve lost this one."

"Oh, you think so? Since when do I care what you think? Go to New Pallpoli now, and keep your adolescent opinions to yourself." Larr watched the boy’s veins bulging on his forehead, his brown eyes burning a hole through the screen. "What’s the matter, Gell?" Larr asked mockingly. "You're not so smart, are you? You’re a cretin, worse than that; you’re a fool. I’ve squashed insects brighter than you. You may have dazzled a clown like Viddelio, or should I say Victor Delano? But you haven’t impressed me."

Gell was stunned into silence. How did Larr know about Victor Delano? Suddenly, things were starting to become very clear. In an instant his heart sank. An image of Earth being devoured by the Sirenese barbarians raced through his mind. Was that the extent of Larr’s hatred of Earth? It was unthinkable - blackmailing Vidd and forcing him to sacrifice Earth. He sighed, "I'm done Larr, you’re on your own."

"Not so fast, Gell. Do you know what the punishment is for these kind of subversive actions? You will be banished, sent off to an infertile rock, left to live off sticks and twigs. Are you willing to risk a promising future to protect an unstable, erratic man like Sollalia?"

"What difference does it make, Larr? You’ve already destroyed the only thing I’ve ever loved."

"What are you talking about?"

"I’m talking about Earth! I know what you did. Earth will be destroyed by the Sirenese. It’ll be on your head, Larr! Six billion innocent people will die because of you. You will finally get what you always wanted. Our precious culture will be pure again. Will that make you happy?"

"That’s some imagination you’ve got," Larr countered. "I see Sollalia has rubbed off on you. You’re both crazy..." Larr let out a boisterous laugh, his confidence oozed from ever pore of his being. "Let me tell you this, it would not be in your best interest to be talking like this. Your activities can easily be tied to the treasonous actions of your hero. What Soll is doing is wrong, it’s against the laws of this world, and it is the law that I am defending. That’s what matters here, not friendship, not reputations, not even a broken heart."

Gell said nothing for a long time. What could he say? Larr pulled his strings like a master puppeteer. The time would come when Larrvino would regret what he had done, and how he treated people. He smiled inwardly - one day soon enough Larrvino would be the one dangling by the strings, a powerless marionette in the hands of the ultimate puppeteer, the Creator of the universe. He only hoped he would be there to see the look on that smug face of his. "I guess you’re right, Larr. What do you want me to do this time?"

"It’s quite simple, really. Something even you can handle. We must stop that disk from getting on the lightship Kylli."

"Then we’d better watch Sebbreba very closely. Soll is on his way to Terrekka’s City to find her right now."

"Don’t waste your time on Sebb," Larr offered, "she hasn’t got it. Saffrina has it. It’s probably somewhere in the Meridian Building where I can’t get a lock on it. But she’ll have to transport it to Ballalta’s City before tomorrow."

"She be a fool to bring it there in person..."

"Precisely why you’ll be monitoring every courier drone to leave New Pallpoli. One of them will have the disk. You will bring it to me. You will also bring me the one she has conspired with. This... This Renegade must be stopped. I must have this person, do you understand?"

Gell nodded. "Where will you be?"

"I’ll be at the Ballalta’s City stopping Dakkalia from boarding that ship. Now be off with you. And Gell, don’t let me down."

Larr laughed again. "Your future depends on it."

***

A pale orange light illuminated the shuttle bay. Soll sat quietly on the docking platform carelessly swinging his legs. Sebbreba, ever vigilant, watched the skies for signs of trouble. Trouble, they both knew, would come in a familiar form. Yet, neither of them dared utter his name. The one man who could ruin everything, and would take great delight in doing so, was ironically both his political ally and her nighttime lover. Despite this connection betrayal was not the question. Larrvino did indeed represent the law. Larr was right, there was simply no denying that, but at what cost. Soll had finally realized for himself what Sebb and her disciples had known all along. The Earth Doctrine was bad law. In the face of what they now knew to be true about the proliferation of the human animal it was absurd to cling to it any more. Tragically, the planet Earth was on a timeline without a future. It was only right that the primitives be forewarned. For that to happen the doctrine had to fall.

Therefore, they waited. It was eerily quiet seventy-five stories above the ground, only the sound of the soft southern breeze coming off the bay could be heard sweeping through the cavernous shuttle bay. Neither of them said much all morning. They were used to each other's company and found small talk an unnecessary distraction. Sebb was completely intense; never taking her eyes from the sky that surrounded them on three sides. Soll, antithetically, was lost in a daydream most of the time. They had only to wait for their plan to unfold. Deggneba would arrive first, followed by Dakkalia and then the shuttle crew at random intervals, each taking a different route to dock 75-24. They were assured that Larr's people would

be looking for anything or anyone out of place in or around the Galaxy Building. The shuttle they had marked was a regularly scheduled ferry with drops at eight orbiting bays. Larr would be forced to guess which dock and which flight. He would not have had enough time to put surveillance devices in each bay. Despite the secrecy and careful preparation Soll had an uneasy feeling. Larr was nearby. He could feel him.

By an odd twist of fate his future was now in the hands of the one he spent the last two years of his life hunting down. He had no choice now but to trust the slippery one as Saffrina had. The Renegade's ultimate motivation was a mystery. Perhaps the Renegade now considered Soll some sort of kindred spirit, a fellow dissident, a true rebel. He could only hope this Renegade’s motives were pure. He chuckled quietly to himself; we renegades need to stick together.

"What’s so funny?" Sebbreba asked as she stared out over the city.

"It’s nothing," he replied without looking at her. "Life is a funny thing..."

"I’ll do my laughing when this shuttle is in orbit, thank you."

"Agreed," he said emphatically. He watched her closely as she scanned the horizon. When her head snapped around he leapt from the platform and joined her at the railing. "What is it?"

"Something’s coming." A large, slow-moving touring transporter approached the bay. The welcome pad extended itself as the transporter came to a stop. "I’ll be... It’s a tour. Let’s get out of sight!"

Twenty or so people streamed out of the cabin and began milling about the dock. Soll recognized their attire as the traditional fashion of the Pakkanni region. Often called the outland, Pakkanni was as far from the big cities as one could get. The Pakkanni people were very provincial and its sons and daughters rarely ventured far from home. A tour of Ballalta’s City was akin to a Terrekkan visiting the outer reaches of charted space.

Soll looked carefully at each of their faces. The last one off the transporter was Deggneba. Clad in a hand-sewn tunic and a pair of jungle chaps he casually approached the shuttle and once in the crowd he disappeared from sight. Sometime later the tourists climbed back aboard the transporter and they watched it slowly drift out of sight.

"It has begun," Sebb said, "it’s best we stay out of sight."

Soll nodded in agreement, as he sat back against the wall in a darkened corner of the bay. They waited for what seemed like hours when three people, a woman and two men, approached the shuttle and began unhitching the docking straps. Again, he studied their faces until he was certain the one with sunshades over his eyes was Dakkalia. All three entered the vehicle but only two returned to the platform; the one with sunshades was not among them. Another few minutes had passed when the shuttle commander came up the tube and approached the woman. The two of them talked for a moment until the pilot arrived. The shuttle was a supply rig and no passengers were to be boarding. Just when it looked like everything was going like clockwork a large maintenance door opened behind them and a hoard of holowave reporters poured into the bay.

"What’s this?" Sebb uttered in amazement. "Who could’ve..." It was then she saw him.

Larrvino, flanked by two of his henchmen, sauntered toward the shuttle. "Ladies and gentlemen," he bellowed. "This is the little secret some of our friends didn’t intend for you to know. Commander, do you know you have a pair of stowaways aboard your vessel?" The commander shook his head. "I tell you it is true."

His two men boarded the shuttle and moments later Dakkalia and Deggneba appeared in the doorway. "What have we here... Is it not the great Dakkalia, Orr’s newest hero?" Larr looked to his portacon as Gellseno shook his head from side to side signifying he had not intercepted the disk. He stopped in front of Dakk and smiled. "Would you mind explaining to our friends the reason you are stowaways on this cargo shuttle?"

"I will tell you nothing," Dakk shot back.

"Then I will tell them," Larr promised. "First, I want them searched, both of them."

"By whose authority?" shouted a female voice from the shadows. Sebbreba emerged to face the man she both loved and despised. Soll followed her into the light.

He turned toward the reporters. "Look what we have here..." Larr pointed at Soll. "It’s a family affair."

"By whose authority are you questioning these boys?" Sebb repeated.

He turned and faced Sebb with burning eyes and said: "By whose authority, you ask? By the authority vested in me as an officer of the Terrekkan Council, sworn to uphold the law. A law, I might add, that you and these men seek to violate. I intend to prove that there is a conspiracy to subvert the Earth Doctrine and that you, Sollalia, and these men are the principal operatives." The crowd of reporters gasped. "I have invited someone to observe these proceedings."

A hologram began to materialize next to Larr causing him to smile from ear to ear. Deppopio, the Supreme High Chair of the Orrian Empire, stood straight faced before the reporters. "What of it," he asked Sebb.

"With all due respect, the man has lost his mind, sir." The crowd laughed and Larr’s toothy grin was wiped from his face.

"Then you’ll have no objections to these men being searched?" Depp asked.

"None whatsoever."

"Very well, search them."

Dakk and Degg offered no resistance and the search turned up nothing. Larr was visibly upset by the confidence Sebb displayed, but he wasn’t beaten yet. "I would demand that the vessel itself be searched, top to bottom."

"Agreed," said Depp, and for nearly three hours everyone stood by as a team of representatives from the High Council’s Contraband Investigation Agency scoured the shuttle. To Larr’s dismay the number of reporters slowly dwindled as the morning went on. The attention span of a typical holowave reporter was notoriously short and he was losing them one by
one to sheer boredom. When it was over, and again nothing had been found he watched the rest of them disperse. Larr was beside himself. He was convinced something had been overlooked and insisted the shuttle be searched again.

"Give it up, Larr," Sebb urged him. "There’s nothing here."

"No, you’re wrong we just haven’t found it yet," he insisted. "Your honor," he said to Depp, "you cannot permit this shuttle to leave until it is found!"

"I’m compelled to side with Sebbreba," Depp said plainly. "I’m afraid you have not made your case. I see no reason to delay this flight any further. You have wasted enough of our time." He turned the shuttle commander; "you may proceed."

"No!" Larr screamed. "This is not right. You’re making a big mistake!" He found himself standing alone; no one was listening to his ranting. "You’ll be sorry. All of you!"

***

Larr’s escapade cost them precious time, further complicating the mission. Dakk knew what had to be done he only worried that there would not be enough time. Once aboard the lightship he would need to distract Deggneba and retrieve the disk. From there his plan became a bit sketchy. Somehow he would have to create and opportunity to get the disk to Julia Rayhied, even if it meant disabling Deggneba for a while.

Minutes later they were approaching Platform 88. Degg was busy verifying the registration and flight plan of the Galactic Lightship, the Kylli and making subsequent entries into the mission log. Neither of them said a word about what had just transpired on the surface. Degg acted as if it had never happened, not once asking what Larrvino could have been looking for. There was no reason for Dakk to offer it up.

Dakk floated casually up to the cabin windows to watch the docking process begin. The shuttle pilot used the emergency escape tube to attach directly to the belly of the Kylli. The entire procedure required no docking platform personnel. The process was seamless and soon they were both waiting at the airlock for the tube to pressurize. Dakk was first to enter the tube. He pulled himself along until he reached the hatch on the Kylli. Once in position the hatch opened and he began pulling himself inside when, to his surprise an arm emerged from the hatch and dragged him in. Once inside he found himself face to face with the Great One himself. Dakk was flush with the nervousness of a newbie cadet.

Deppopio merely smiled and put his finger across his lips urging silence. Seconds later Degg appeared in the open hatch and both of them grabbed him and pulled him aboard.

"Your honor," Degg gasped, "what are you doing here?"

"There’s been a change in the crew assignment. I’ll be going along."

Degg smiled. "It’ll be a pleasure to have you the aboard with us."

"You’re not going, Degg. I’ll be taking your place."

"I don’t understand..."

"I need you to trust me. I can’t explain right now." Degg dutifully shook his head; he would not question his master’s motives. Dakk was still in shock. After all these years he was still speechless in the presence of Deppopio. "Listen carefully, Degg. I want you to report directly to the quarantine unit on Dass. No one will be able to find you there and there will be no questions. Kerrekka will see to it."

"But won’t you be missed? What about the time shift?"

"I’ve left a communiqué stating that I’ll be taking a holiday. I told them I'd be staying on Hellinni’s World. There are limited communications there and no one would ever find me on the big island... Even if they tried."

Degg disappeared down the tube and Depp secured the hatch. Dakk quickly strapped himself into the pilot's chair. He began to help Depp but soon realized the old man needed none.

"How long has it been, sir," Dakk asked in a casual conversational tone, "since you’ve tripped the light barrier, I mean?"

"Eight years. I toured Juggedda’s World the year it was founded."

"Yes, I’ve heard wonderful things about it. They say it’s quite Earth-like."

"Much like prehistoric Earth. It has an atmosphere that is closer to Earth’s than any planet we’ve charted. Its axial tilt is nearly identical to Earth’s. Its solitary moon has a gravity slightly stronger than that of Earth’s moon. Many active volcanoes, and weather... The weather is breathtaking. Storms like you have never imagined. It’s quite exciting, really."

"Is it true their having a difficult time recruiting colonists?"

Depp smiled as he finished securing his straps. It was obvious by his manner that he was excited to be in the seat of a state of the art ship again. "It can be a bit intimidating," he continued, "I’m not sure too many Orrians would give up everything for a thrill ride half way across the Alpha quadrant." He pointed to the console. "Shouldn’t you be setting vector control? I believe you’ve been given the coordinates..."

"Yes. Yes, I’m so sorry," Dakk apologized. "I guess I’m a little nervous." He began inputting the acceleration angle from coordinates pre-assigned to this mission by the Galactic Space Traffic Controller when he froze.

"Is there something the matter, son?"

"No, nothing, sir."

"Would you like me to set the breakout points? I know them by heart."

"If you wish," Dakk replied. He swung the console on its pivot until it rested before Depp. He watched as the old man eagerly handled the controls. There was a look of pure joy on his face. Once a tripper always a tripper, or so the saying goes.

With Depp preoccupied at the controls he slowly slid his left hand down the side of the pilot’s chair and began feeling around for the disk. It was not there. Then, pretending to look over Deppopio’s shoulder he felt around beneath the right side. Again, nothing.

"It’s not there," Depp said sardonically.

Dakk sat up straight in his chair and smiled. "What do you mean?"

"You were looking for this..." In his left hand Depp held an object of the exact description his father had left him with.

"What is that?"

"I think you know exactly what it is... What were you people thinking?" The old man scolded. "Did you really think you’d get away with it?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Dakk protested.

"It's all right," Depp countered. "I know all about it. No use lying to me now."

"All right…" Dakk's shoulders slumped. "I am just the courier. I know nothing more than that."

"I know," Depp admitted. "I’m sorry you had to come home to this. You are a hero, Dakkalia, even if you don’t know it yet. Your stumbling on the Sirenese before they stumbled onto us may well be the difference between annihilation and survival. We have some time to prepare ourselves for them. The same cannot be said for the people of Earth. A time bomb is already ticking and they have so very far to go."

"Are you suggesting that we’re pulling out and leaving Earth to the barbarians?"

"I don’t know what I’m suggesting just yet... The first thing we must do is get that satellite out of there... We will consider our options about the future later." Depp returned the console to his pilot. "Activate the lightdrives on my mark."

"Yes, sir!" Dakk barked. "There’s just one thing I must ask..."

"Yes."

"Are you going to punish my father for this?"

"I don’t know, son, I don’t know."

***

A billion miles from the sun they raced against the clock. Earth was but an tiny speck in an ocean of blackness from this range. The deceleration glide path had been set at the standard ten-degree angle to the sun’s orbital plane to diminish the chance of a collision. It also gave their scanning array a view unobstructed by solar dust and debris. For nearly twenty hours they could only watch on the long-range viewer as three spacecraft were launched from the Earth’s surface, each with the goal of getting to the prize before the other. They could only watch helplessly as one of the space planes, the ship launched from the nation of Russia, malfunctioned, killing everyone aboard. As they approached the inner solar system they watched the American shuttle locate and collect the satellite. The Kylli, one of Galactic’s finest ships, was still too far away to wrap a suspension field around it with the accuracy required. They could not chance Earth’s own satellite network being disabled. When they finally entered Earth’s orbit there was still a slim chance to salvage the mission, however, one more complication served them with a dilemma.

Dakk was silently disheartened. It simply could not have turned out any worse. Not only did Deppopio have the disk, now they were too late to prevent the Americans from confiscating the satellite. The fact that he was still suffering the sickening effects of tripping the light barrier seemed a fitting compliment to the way things were going.

"Sir," Dakk began, holding back the urge to heave, " the Ariane vehicle is still too far away to wrap in a suspension field without trapping other satellites and disrupting communications on the planet."

"Yes, I understand. It’s imperative we do this with minimal intrusion, we must leave cleanly, leaving no trace of our presence."

"OK," Dakk said haltingly, "We could… Or… Have you any ideas?"

"Let’s look at the facts," Depp began. "First, we know the satellite is aboard the American craft. Second, the Ariane is closing in and without intervention will be there before we have enough time to retrieve our property. Third, towing the Patriot out of orbit is not an option. Lastly, we cannot disable the Araine from this range without undesirable effects. That leaves us with only one thing we can do."

"And that is?"

"Prepare a probe. Set it on a collision course with the Araine."

Dakk stared at him in disbelief. "I don’t understand. It will surely destroy them."

"It may. Or, it may force them to alter their course enough for us to get our work done."

"Yes, that's good... It may just work."

Dakk quickly began the launch sequence for a standard sensor probe. He disabled it’s radar evading properties so the Ariane would "see it" long before the point of impact. The probe was programmed to self-destruct once it was clear of the target, leaving nothing of its existence. The instant the probe cleared the launch chute he set an intercept course for the Patriot.

Time was of the essence, the suspension field had to be erected before the shuttle’s reentry rockets were ignited or he risked creating an unstable field that was likely to rip the Patriot to shreds. Unfortunately it meant the Americans would get a glimpse of the Kylli if only for an instant when the false projection dissolved as the suspension field was mounted. It could not be helped. He set the command and held his breath.

By all reports the suspension field was holding. The Patriot and its crew were held in a state of suspended animation that halted all atomic activity. No harm would come to the crew now. When it was over he would wipe all their recording devices clean and bring the field down, leaving them unaware of what had happened. He carefully maneuvered the ship to within a hundred meters of the American ship. The massive Kylli dwarfed the tiny space shuttle. Forty or more Patriots could have fit inside the belly of Galactic’s premiere lightship. He analyzed the structure of the tiny ship and quickly located each of the crew. The woman and the pilot were in the cockpit while the soldier was secured inside an airlock. The satellite was located in the cargo bay. Gaining access the cargo bay by carving out holes in the suspension field would pose little problem. However, the satellite was secured with straps that required human hands to remove. He got out of the pilot's chair and began floating toward the airlock.

"Where are you going?" Depp asked him politely.

"Someone’s got to go out there and free the satellite before we can tow it aboard."

"I’ll go."

"But sir..."

"There will be no discussion."

Dakk sat back down and watched as the Supreme leader of the Orrian Empire donned an outsuit and disappeared into the airlock.