The entity sender’s unresponsive behavior aside, the planet below was teeming with activity. Even here, orbiting above the planet’s atmosphere, there was evidence of conscious life, albeit primitive. Indeed, the data were overwhelming. Vast amounts of energy radiated from the planet. Other entities circled above the planets’ atmospheric envelope, radiating low levels of electromagnetic energy, evidently performing tasks of some importance to the beings living on the surface. Clearly there was intelligence here, though undeveloped. This knowledge alone would prove a successful result of Sentinel’s journey; it was hopeful to exchange data with the entity and provide a more thorough report to the Elders. But they had been clear: Contact with the prime entity sending the message was permitted, contacting other entities was not.
So Sentinel waited for the prime entity to awaken. Unfortunately, the entity’s rest period was apparently going to be interrupted prematurely: a second entity was approaching!
Chapter 8
E.S.S.E. Status: 40 Hours to Atmosphere Re-Entry
Discovery had Essie in sight. On the Flight-deck, Reynolds and Ramirez had spent the last several hours maneuvering Discovery into a matching orbit, with assistance from Houston. Docking with the International Space Station was one thing, but catching up to a small satellite in a decaying orbit was a bit more complicated. Even with time working against them, Mission Control was not about to rush the process and risk Discovery ramming into some unknown piece of space junk flying around in low earth orbit.
Trailing Essie, Ramirez guided Discovery to within a thousand meters as Reynolds joined Carver on the Mid-deck to begin suiting up for their spacewalk. Ikiro manned the Payload Ops station on the Flight-deck, anxiously awaiting the go-ahead to secure the satellite.
Ramirez was on the intercom. “Commander, distance to E.S.S.E. now 500 meters, closing at two per second.”
“Roger. Continue approach, decel to 1 m.p.s. and hold station at 20,” Reynolds ordered.
Ramirez acknowledged and nudged Discovery’s reaction control jets, slowing the closing rate between shuttle and satellite; in effect, inching toward Essie.
Carver and Reynolds cross-checked each other’s spacesuits before putting on their helmets. Carver was pale.
“Are you ready for this?” Reynolds asked, genuinely concerned over his colleague’s state of mind.
“I think so. Not quite the same as jumping into the big pool at JSC, is it?”
“No not really. But don’t worry, you’ll do fine. We’re gonna park right next to your satellite, so close you’ll hardly leave the confines of the payload bay.”
“That’s not very reassuring,” Carver said nervously.
“One piece of advice though. Floating out there, looking down at Earth, there’s no experience like it. Take a few seconds and enjoy the view. Only a lucky few get to share it.”
Mission Control informed Discovery they were authorized to proceed with satellite recovery procedures. Reynolds ordered Ikiro to begin the grappling process as he and Carver donned their space helmets and entered the payload bay airlock.
Flying upside down relative to Earth, brilliant white-blue light illuminated Discovery’s payload bay, earth-shine luminous inside the airlock.
Reynolds sealed the pressure hatch and performed a final systems check on their spacesuits, verifying that life-support and environmental integrity indicators were green.
“Houston, Discovery. Ready for E.V.A.”
“Roger, Discovery. Go for E.V.A.”
Moving past Carver, Reynolds drifted to the aft hatch and punched in commands on a control panel. Carver could hear a faint ‘whoosh’ as atmosphere evacuated from the airlock.
The outer payload bay hatch swung open.
Reynolds grabbed a handhold and pulled himself through the opening. Carver followed, simultaneously exhilarated and scared witless to be in the vacuum of space.
Mission Control’s flight surgeon, stationed in front of a bank of displays reading out various life signs for all four astronauts, noticed an immediate 20 bpm surge in Carver’s heart rate.
“My God,” Carver said to no one in particular.
Reynolds appreciated the reaction. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“I’ve seen hundreds of photos of Earth from space, and hours of mission film. I didn’t expect this,” he admitted as he looked “up” at Earth. Seeing the planet from space—the resplendent deep blue brilliance of the sea, puffy swirls and streaks of soft white cloud, vibrant greens and rich browns of the continents—gave rise to the notion of divine influence. He was awestruck.
Ramirez’ voice over the comm channel broke his reverie. “Commander Reynolds, Discovery is at station 20 meters aft of target off port quarter. Advise when ready to maneuver over payload bay.”
“Roger, Diego. Go for R.C.S. burn.”
Within a few seconds, Diego Ramirez proved himself one of the best pilots in the astronaut corps as he deftly activated various Reaction Control System thrusters and slid Discovery over Essie, positioning the satellite mere meters from the payload bay on the first try, perfectly centered between the bay doors. In this position, it would be a piece of cake for Ikiro to secure the satellite with the shuttle’s remote arm.
Reynolds and Carver, securely tethered to the shuttle, floated over the payload bay just above Discovery’s main fuselage and waited for Ikiro to maneuver the arm past Essie’s solar panels and latch on to a load-bearing point on the metal frame. Equipped with a circular grappling device at the end of the remote arm, the system was capable of securing objects over a dozen metric tonnes mass while astronauts performed repairs or maintenance.
As skilled in her craft as Ramirez was in his, Ikiro grabbed hold of Essie on the first try.
There was applause in Mission Control. “Well done, Discovery. Proceed to initial diagnostics.”
Now it was Carver’s turn. Following Reynolds outward along the remote arm, his nerves began to settle down as his mind focused on the task at hand. He was curious as hell as to why Essie was without power. In a few minutes, he expected to answer that question.
His expectation would be unrealized.
Chapter 9
Low Earth Orbit
Unsettled by the arrival of the large entity, Sentinel considered alternatives. Was the new entity a threat? Did it detect Sentinel’s presence? It made what could be interpreted as an act of aggression as it apparently prepared to engulf the prime entity, and Sentinel along with it.
Even with the arrival of this other entity, the prime entity remained silent. Was it too in stealth mode to avoid detection? Did the new entity intend harm?
Two other entities, much smaller, now emerged from within the larger entity, moving toward the prime entity.
The Elders had been clear: contact was limited to the primary entity. Contact with other entities was prohibited.
The small entities were moving closer. They appeared to be maintenance drones.
Sentinel grew alarmed.
Chapter 10
E.S.S.E. Status: Recovered
Reynolds and Carver were fifteen minutes into their spacewalk, moving along Discovery’s robot arm toward their captured objective.
Near the end of the robot arm and close enough to reach Essie, they waited for Mission Control to give the final go-ahead.
“Houston, Discovery. E.V.A. team in position; ready to access target and initiate diagnostics,” Reynolds said with a hint of pride.
“Roger, Discovery. Go for diagnostics.”
Both astronauts inched to the end of the shuttle’s remote manipulator arm and grabbed onto one of Essie’s handholds.
Reynolds turned to his colleague. “Okay, Dr. Carver, do your thing. I’ll hold position here with the diagnostic computer while you move into position and plug the cable into Essie’s mainframe. After I begin the data transfer, you can inspect the solar panels.”
“Acknowledged,” Carver replied meekly as he pulled himself onto Essie’s frame, un
sure of himself.
E.S.S.E.’s design was relatively simple by space telescope standards. Similar in overall shape but half the size of Hubble, the seven meter long cylinder contained a Cassegrain mirror configuration pointed to the stars. The controversial transmitter designed to emit narrowband radio pings was housed in a smaller cylinder mounted on the outside of the larger one. The combined configuration looked very much like a chubby cannon mounted with a rifle scope. A solar array was attached at the rear. Carver’s objective was to crawl inside a tubular frame that enclosed the satellite’s instrumentation on the underside of the solar array.
He proceeded to the end of Discovery’s robot arm, reached out with one hand and grabbed a handhold attached to the frame enclosing Essie’s instruments.
Something registered in his peripheral vision. On the opposite side of the satellite, Carver detected movement. Was his mind playing tricks on him? No. There it was again. Unmistakable this time. A shape, solid, so dark it was barely visible. Not part of Essie, not mechanical. Alive.
His skin crawled.
* * *
Startled, Carver was about to interrupt Reynolds’ conversation with Houston when dozens of images burst into his consciousness at once. His body stiffened as he squeezed his eyes shut. The data flowing into his mind seemed like an array of hundreds of television screens simultaneously pushing images directly into his brain. The sensory overload gave him a fantastic migraine; he fought to make it stop. Yet, there was beauty in the images. Warm colors; planets viewed from space, some with multi-colored rings, much more beautiful than drab Saturn’s; colorful, vibrant landscapes, teaming with life; cities unlike any on Earth, crystalline structures, glistening, luminescent; machines floating above the ground, seemingly alive. And, at a semi-conscious level, he sensed emotion. Love, compassion, communion. There were no feelings of hate, no rancor, no antipathy.
As quickly as it had started, the flood of images stopped, as did the pain in Carver’s head. He now sensed a singular presence within his mind, accompanied by the same warm emotions. And also reticence, perhaps. Possibly a slight sense of fear.
Thoughts began to coalesce in his mind. Ideas; concepts without words. An exchange began, a transference of information and feelings, between him and this presence.
WE PRESENT NO HARM.
Carver sensed the creature was unsure if the reverse were true. Who are you?
A REPRESENTATIVE OF THE COMMUNITY.
Where is the community?
FAR.
Who lives in the community?
EVERYONE.
Chills ran down Carver’s back. My God, I am actually communicating with an alien intelligence. Why are you here?
THE PRIME ENTITY INVITED US.
Who is the prime entity?
The answer was an image: Essie. The thought gave Carver an odd thrill. The damn satellite actually accomplished what it had been built to do. Davis was right all along.
You seem afraid. Do I frighten you?
THE ELDERS ALLOW CONTACT WITH THE PRIME ENTITY. THEY DO NOT ALLOW CONTACT WITH OTHER ENTITIES.
We created the prime entity to contact you. We would like to meet you. Can you come with me to the planet surface?
NO. THE ELDERS DO NOT ALLOW CONTACT WITH OTHER ENTITIES. I MUST RETURN.
Can we meet the Elders?
THAT IS FOR THE ELDERS TO DECIDE. ARE YOU AN ELDER IN YOUR COMMUNITY?
No. I am one of many from my community. I do not speak for all.
THE COMMUNITY BELOW IS PRIMITIVE AND VIOLENT.
Carver was overwhelmed. He was communicating telepathically with an intelligent being from another world. He began to realize the enormity of the situation. Thrust into representing the entire human race, if he ‘said’ the wrong thing, or gave the wrong impression, the consequences could be disastrous, even deadly. Not to mention fouling up mankind’s first encounter with an extra-terrestrial race, and blowing the chance to make a good first impression with an advanced species. He qualified his statement.
There are leaders, Elders, in my community as well. They also do not wish me to meet with other entities. My Elders would like to meet yours.
THAT IS FOR MY ELDERS TO DECIDE. YOUR COMMUNITY IS NOT READY. THE ELDERS ALWAYS WAIT UNTIL A COMMUNITY IS READY.
When will we be ready?
WHEN YOUR COMMUNITY IS PEACEFUL.
Carver could not deny that which was readily evident to any intelligence observing the world below. Conflict between peoples, waste of natural resources, harm inflicted on the planet itself. Humans had a lot of growing up to do before declaring themselves peaceful.
Sharing thoughts with the alien, he knew there was no hiding the true nature of the human race. It now became clear to him–this creature was an advance scout, sent to check out who sent the intergalactic message and whether or not they were a threat. He knew deep down that this alien and his community could draw the wrong conclusion. He tried to make a case for the human race.
Someday my community will be peaceful. We have within us the capacity to be so.
ALL COMMUNITIES KNOW VIOLENCE BEFORE THEY KNOW PEACE. SOME NEVER KNOW PEACE. THE FUTURE OF YOUR COMMUNITY IS UNCERTAIN.
Please tell your Elders that my community has great potential. We will know peace.
YOU ARE A PEACEFUL ENTITY.
Thank you. You are also peaceful. I am glad for our meeting. I hope the Elders are not angry with you for our meeting.
THE ELDERS FROM OUR COMMUNITIES MUST NOT KNOW OF OUR MEETING.
Why not?
YOUR COMMUNITY MUST KNOW PEACE BEFORE IT IS ALLOWED TO JOIN OTHER COMMUNITIES. A VIOLENT COMMUNITY WILL NOT BE ALLOWED.
Once again Carver felt like he was treading on thin ice. Was the last statement a threat, or simply a prerequisite for joining other communities? In any event, he was fairly certain humans would not react well to knowledge of an alien race, particularly one capable of space travel. Panic and chaos would surely follow. Historically, world leaders and military commanders reacted to threats, real or perceived, with aggression. And if the human community showed aggression toward this alien’s community, Carver was pretty sure who would win the fight. The risk was too great.
I will not reveal our contact or the existence of your community to my Elders.
THAT IS ACCEPTABLE.
Will you return?
THAT IS FOR THE ELDERS TO DECIDE. The alien paused. OUR MEETING IS GOOD. IT MUST END NOW.
Thank you. I wish you a safe journey.
The telepathic link dissolved, the consciousness in his mind gently faded.
* * *
“Goddammit Carver, answer me! Are you all right?!”
A disoriented Carver tried to answer. “Commander, I...ah...”
“Discovery, what the hell’s going on up th...” The transmission from Mission Control ended abruptly as all hell broke loose.
An unseen force propelled Essie forward as Carver and Reynolds clung to the remote manipulator arm. The sudden stress snapped the robot arm at the wrist, sending the outer boom into a whiplash.
Reynolds lost his grip. The boom whipped around and hit him broadside, sending him flying away from Discovery’s cargo bay like a hit baseball. It didn’t take long before he reached the end of his tether. The metal connections and braided steel line, designed to withstand more than 1,000 pounds of tension, somehow gave way.
Carver, holding tightly to the robot arm, barely hung on as he rode the whiplash. He watched helplessly as his comrade drifted in a slow motion cartwheel out into space. “Mark!” he yelled. There was no reply. He had no time to consider what to do as Ikiro’s voice yelled in his ear.
“Brace for impact!”
Compared to Discovery, Essie was a small, low-mass object. However, moving with only a fraction of relative velocity, the satellite still carried a significant amount of inertial energy, every bit of which slammed directly into the forward section of Discovery’s payload bay.
Like a semi-truck crashing
into a brick wall, the impact sent everything inside the shuttle not fully secured aft, violently. Both Ikiro and Ramirez slammed into the bulkhead. Ramirez heard bones snap, unsure if they were his or Ikiro’s, right before he lost consciousness. Ikiro blacked out when her forehead struck an instrument panel.
The force of the impact with Discovery effectively disintegrated Essie. Pieces broke off and went flying in all directions, some skipping off the shuttle’s hull into space, others bouncing around inside the payload bay.
What the hell just happened? Desperately clinging to the robot arm, Carver’s head was spinning as he tried to process the last twenty seconds. Everything was happening too fast.
He made a bold move and let go with a yank to pull himself inside the payload bay. He ‘flew’ with purpose toward the bay floor near the airlock hatch. He grabbed on to a handhold and stopped just before slamming into a wall. His arm twisted hard, sending a jolt of pain through his shoulder, but he refused to let go, grabbing the handhold with his other hand to gain control of his flailing body.
The alien...did it attack? No. This is an accident. Has to be. But I can’t think about that right now.
Regaining his composure, he weighed his options. “Ramirez, Ikiro, do you read me?” There was no response. “Mission Control, this is Discovery. Come in!” Still nothing.
He was completely alone.
Knowing the wisdom of his next decision was questionable, he moved past the airlock hatch and climbed into a harness, determined. Using a propulsion backpack, he intended to chase down Reynolds and bring him back. With no experience and only a brief training session on how to operate an MMU, NASA’s Manned Maneuvering Unit designed for un-tethered E.V.A.’s, Carver thought his plan might as well be a suicide mission. He was lucky there was a unit on board, as they had been discontinued from service years ago; this one was included in the equipment list for this flight by an insightful mission planner.