Virgin Soil
2112
A light mist fell as Wayne watched the airlock control panel’s indicator light turn green. The door in front of Wayne shuddered as its powerful servos activated, and there was a brief, low grinding noise as the four-meter tall door labored to open. After less than a minute the movement stopped and Wayne and his senior administrator David entered the airlock of the main equipment bay.
Inside they faced a door that was identical to the first. Behind them the servo reactivated and the entrance closed with a dull clang. Air exchangers immediately started and in 10 seconds the atmospheric indicator on the left wall of the entry airlock went from red to green.
David and Wayne took off their breathers and rain slicks as the interior door started to open. David rubbed some of the chaffed skin on his left temple and soothed his hair while Wayne was meticulously sanitizing his breather, giving it a brief inspection, and then placing and sealing it in its velcro-topped belt holder. David irritably shoved his in its pouch.
“Damn things,” David muttered.
Wayne ignored the comment, as usual.
The interior door finished cycling and was fully open, and the unusually bright light of the bay flooded into the airlock. Wayne and David shielded their eyes against the glare as they walked into the bay. A phalanx of stocky men and women with shredders stood at attention in the center of the room. They were in front of a large object that was covered with a blue utility tarp, which obscured both the size and form of whatever was underneath it.
“What’s with the guards?” David asked.
“You’ll see. Patience my friend,” Wayne replied. His voice was quiet and measured, but this only served to pique John’s interest even more.
One of the guards walked forward. His shredder was drawn and pointed at both John and Wayne, and his new military issue boots echoed in the cavernous room as he approached. He intercepted them before they had gotten more than a third of the way toward the object.
“IDs please,” he asked.
“What kind of sh*t is this?” David asked, looking at Wayne. “You’re the governor!” David turned his gaze toward the unflinching guard. “And I’m the on the Council of Virgin Soil! Everyone here knows me, and Wayne!”
Wayne let him say his piece. Then he turned back toward the guard, who hadn’t budged a centimeter or and he didn’t look at all concerned at the bluster of a Councilman. Reaching into his breast pocked Wayne pulled out his holo card-chip.
“Here is my ID,” Wayne said as he gave him the card. “Thank you for following my protocol, Kishor.” Kishor nodded once to acknowledge him, took his card, and ran it through his improvised scanner.
“Your protocol?? This was your idea? You haven’t gone military on me, have you?” David said.
“Just give him your card, David, and we can move on.”
David got a steely look in his eyes, but there was something in Wayne’s voice. David decided now would not be the time to dig in his heals so he pulled out his ID card and gave it to Kishor, who took it and ran it through the scanner.
“Thank you, gentlemen. Your identities have been verified and authorization accepted. You may proceed,” Kishor said. Then he stepped out of he way.
“Follow me, David. We have to make a report to Dee in less than an hour.” Wayne walked forward with David right behind him. In moments they were in front of the object.
“Marin and Hersh, please lift the tarp,” Wayne ordered. Moments later the tarp puckered at the side and it was pulled off and away from David and Wayne.
David let out an involuntary gasp. “What the h*ll is that?”
Wayne smiled just a little. “No. The correct question is ‘What the h*ll are they?’.”
David reached out and the tips of his fingers touched the shoulder-high object nearest to him. It was warm to the touch, and had a faint pulsing vibration. Even stranger than that, his fingers never seemed to actually touch the object, sliding away when he applied pressure. No matter how hard he pushed his fingers never got within a fraction of a centimeter of its surface. The color was a vague greenish gray, and its shape was strangely curved and bulbous – no parts seemed to have an angle or flat surface. David observed that in some ways it resembled some of the modern sculpture from the late 20th and early 21st Century. These things, he decided, would never be mistaken for sculpture, though, at least not for long. Its curves and form simply looked, well, wrong.
“So what are they?” David whispered. His gaze was still locked on the slightly hypnotic surface, and his fingers were gliding over the surface in a general pattern of a figure eight.
“We know they aren’t from Unity, or any human probes,” Wayne said. “They are clearly not organic, although some aspects of them look organic. No one has any idea what these objects might be but one thing is clear; they must be alien in origin. David, you are looking at two objects that were made by an alien civilization – two alien artifacts. This is the first proof we have that there is, or at least was, intelligent life outside of Earth. Of course we’ve let Dee know, but given her no details. We’ll be sending them off to Landing in the morning.”
Wayne let that sink in for a moment.
“Wow,” David responded, being at a loss for words for once. “And to think we have two of them!”
“Yes,” Wayne continued. “The bigger question is where is the race that left them. What do they look like? How long have they been gone? Why did they leave? Could we communicate with them? Why did they leave these behind? Are there more of them? Do they do anything? If so, what do they do?”
Wayne walked forward to and extended his had to the second object. He touched it lightly, even reverently. “So many questions, and no answers,” he stated to himself. Soon his fingertips swirled over the throbbing surface of the alien artifact.
2112
A light mist fell as Wayne watched the airlock control panel’s indicator light turn green. The door in front of Wayne shuddered as its powerful servos activated, and there was a brief, low grinding noise as the four-meter tall door labored to open. After less than a minute the movement stopped and Wayne and his senior administrator David entered the airlock of the main equipment bay.
Inside they faced a door that was identical to the first. Behind them the servo reactivated and the entrance closed with a dull clang. Air exchangers immediately started and in 10 seconds the atmospheric indicator on the left wall of the entry airlock went from red to green.
David and Wayne took off their breathers and rain slicks as the interior door started to open. David rubbed some of the chaffed skin on his left temple and soothed his hair while Wayne was meticulously sanitizing his breather, giving it a brief inspection, and then placing and sealing it in its velcro-topped belt holder. David irritably shoved his in its pouch.
“Damn things,” David muttered.
Wayne ignored the comment, as usual.
The interior door finished cycling and was fully open, and the unusually bright light of the bay flooded into the airlock. Wayne and David shielded their eyes against the glare as they walked into the bay. A phalanx of stocky men and women with shredders stood at attention in the center of the room. They were in front of a large object that was covered with a blue utility tarp, which obscured both the size and form of whatever was underneath it.
“What’s with the guards?” David asked.
“You’ll see. Patience my friend,” Wayne replied. His voice was quiet and measured, but this only served to pique John’s interest even more.
One of the guards walked forward. His shredder was drawn and pointed at both John and Wayne, and his new military issue boots echoed in the cavernous room as he approached. He intercepted them before they had gotten more than a third of the way toward the object.
“IDs please,” he asked.
“What kind of sh*t is this?” David asked, looking at Wayne. “You’re the governor!” David turned his gaze toward the unflinching guard. “And I’m the on the Council of Virgin Soil! Everyone here knows me, and Wayne!”
Wayne let him say his piece. Then he turned back toward the guard, who hadn’t budged a centimeter or and he didn’t look at all concerned at the bluster of a Councilman. Reaching into his breast pocked Wayne pulled out his holo card-chip.
“Here is my ID,” Wayne said as he gave him the card. “Thank you for following my protocol, Kishor.” Kishor nodded once to acknowledge him, took his card, and ran it through his improvised scanner.
“Your protocol?? This was your idea? You haven’t gone military on me, have you?” David said.
“Just give him your card, David, and we can move on.”
David got a steely look in his eyes, but there was something in Wayne’s voice. David decided now would not be the time to dig in his heals so he pulled out his ID card and gave it to Kishor, who took it and ran it through the scanner.
“Thank you, gentlemen. Your identities have been verified and authorization accepted. You may proceed,” Kishor said. Then he stepped out of he way.
“Follow me, David. We have to make a report to Dee in less than an hour.” Wayne walked forward with David right behind him. In moments they were in front of the object.
“Marin and Hersh, please lift the tarp,” Wayne ordered. Moments later the tarp puckered at the side and it was pulled off and away from David and Wayne.
David let out an involuntary gasp. “What the h*ll is that?”
Wayne smiled just a little. “No. The correct question is ‘What the h*ll are they?’.”
David reached out and the tips of his fingers touched the shoulder-high object nearest to him. It was warm to the touch, and had a faint pulsing vibration. Even stranger than that, his fingers never seemed to actually touch the object, sliding away when he applied pressure. No matter how hard he pushed his fingers never got within a fraction of a centimeter of its surface. The color was a vague greenish gray, and its shape was strangely curved and bulbous – no parts seemed to have an angle or flat surface. David observed that in some ways it resembled some of the modern sculpture from the late 20th and early 21st Century. These things, he decided, would never be mistaken for sculpture, though, at least not for long. Its curves and form simply looked, well, wrong.
“So what are they?” David whispered. His gaze was still locked on the slightly hypnotic surface, and his fingers were gliding over the surface in a general pattern of a figure eight.
“We know they aren’t from Unity, or any human probes,” Wayne said. “They are clearly not organic, although some aspects of them look organic. No one has any idea what these objects might be but one thing is clear; they must be alien in origin. David, you are looking at two objects that were made by an alien civilization – two alien artifacts. This is the first proof we have that there is, or at least was, intelligent life outside of Earth. Of course we’ve let Dee know, but given her no details. We’ll be sending them off to Landing in the morning.”
Wayne let that sink in for a moment.
“Wow,” David responded, being at a loss for words for once. “And to think we have two of them!”
“Yes,” Wayne continued. “The bigger question is where is the race that left them. What do they look like? How long have they been gone? Why did they leave? Could we communicate with them? Why did they leave these behind? Are there more of them? Do they do anything? If so, what do they do?”
Wayne walked forward to and extended his had to the second object. He touched it lightly, even reverently. “So many questions, and no answers,” he stated to himself. Soon his fingertips swirled over the throbbing surface of the alien artifact.
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