A think-tank formed to develop a mission concept. Its one all-encompassing goal—to discover life outside their own solar system. With very little debate, the group concluded that Earth was the best prospect within a reasonable distance. Therefore, most of the deliberation involved the new ship’s design, crew configuration, and Earth exploration.
At 10.2 light-speed, the transit to Earth would take a little over a year. Mission planners based the ship’s length of stay on three criteria: Did they discover life? If so, how varied were the life forms? And if intelligent life did exist, how advanced was it? Under the most positive assumption—Earth possessed a civilization similar to Marcova’s—the crew would stay 50 years. With over two years spent in transit, planners felt the extended stay would provide a good return on investment without significant impact on the crew’s lifespan.
Regardless of the outcome, any news of discovery would be slow in coming. Under the best scenario (a 50-year stay), the first message from the ship would take twelve years to reach Marcova. On the other hand, if Earth were barren, the ship would return in three years.
The design phase for the exploration vessel took 10 years. The new ship was dubbed Earth Research Station One (ERS-1) and closely resembled the prototype ship, but much larger: 1,500 feet long, 900 feet wide, and 200 feet from top to bottom, including 11 decks.
Deck 1: Bridge, Conference Rooms, Executive Chambers
Deck 2: Operations (ops)
Deck 3: Key Personnel Quarters
Deck 4: Crew Quarters and Sports Complex
Deck 5: Work Centers
Deck 6: Work Centers, Water Supply and Purification
Deck 7: Agriculture (Oxygen/Nitrogen Production)
Deck 8: Agriculture (Food Production) and Propulsion
Deck 9: Launch Personnel Quarters, Work Center, and Central Cyclic
Deck 10: Maintenance Work Center
Deck 11: Launch Bay and Equipment Storage
The launch bay measured 750 feet across, 220 feet deep, and 55 feet high. It supported three classes of landing craft ranging from 30 to 60 feet in length.
Construction crews assembled ERS-1 in orbit above Marcova. The ship was a modular design, with most components made of cyclonium to allow for recycling of failed or damaged parts.
The outer surface of the upper hull consisted of interconnecting panels, one for each workspace and living quarters on the upper decks. These liquid crystal panels, composed of hardened polymer, provided three functions: an excellent overhead light source, a clear view of the heavens, or when set to “opaque,” a completely dark environment. For the trip to Earth, a multi-layered casing covered the panels. This interlocking shell contained the plasma tube matrix needed to achieve light speed. The plan called for its removal and storage upon reaching Earth.
The lower hull, a flat black alloy, contained the remainder of the plasma tube matrix.
The two largest decks were dedicated to agriculture and required a massive amount of soil to grow the food and trees necessary for life support. Space systems engineers constructed gravium barges to lift 100 by 200-foot sealed modules of Marcova’s finest topsoil. Once in space, crews maneuvered the modules into place and secured them within the ship’s superstructure, removing the rigid lids and leaving dust covers to contain the soil until construction was complete and artificial gravity applied.
ERS-1 was over twenty-two years in construction. Systems tests, modifications, and crew selection required another year and a half.
Landing craft construction and testing took place on Marcova, as did the manufacturing of most other components.
Meanwhile, mission personnel turned their attention to Earth exploration. Understandably, no subject received more attention than the possible discovery of intelligent life. The group debated endlessly over mission objectives. Under what circumstances should the crew attempt formal contact? Should they share technology, and if so, how much?
Eventually, they reached the consensus that whether intelligent life existed or not, the initial Earth mission would be for observation and research only—no formal contact. Any expeditions to the surface were restricted to uninhabited areas.
With the testing and adjustment phase drawing to a close, the crew made preparations to get ERS-1 underway.
The plan called for an initial crew of 400, with 500 rooms set aside as crew quarters. The rooms were spacious, averaging 40 by 40 feet with 12-foot ceilings. Mission planners offered key personnel the option to bring immediate family: If married, spouse and children, or if single, parents and siblings. Planners assumed some crewmembers would marry and their children would eventually fill most of the remaining quarters.
Shortly before launch, the ship’s operations (ops) division dispatched landing craft to pick up the crew. Once back onboard, the landing craft were stowed and the crew assembled in the main hall on Deck 4 where they received quarters assignments and reported for duty.
With everyone in place, power-plant engineers boosted the reactors to 80 percent, and work centers brought their systems online. Soon, the pre-departure checklist was complete. It was Earth-year 803 AD.
———————
One year and 3 months later, the helmsman slipped ERS-1 into a semi-synchronous orbit 12,500 nautical miles above Earth. Expectations were high. On their final approach, just before auto-braking, forward-looking sensors had detected promising signs of life. In addition to deep blue oceans and weather patterns, they had seen green patches on many of the landmasses.
The ship buzzed with activity. Ops pointed low magnification sensors at the surface below. Imagery started coming in, and displays came alive throughout the ship. The crew expected to see some signs of life, but not to this extent. Trees and plant-life were lush, abundant, and in great variety. Water was everywhere: rivers, lakes, and inland seas. Many of the crew felt as if they were looking down on Marcova.
Before long, ops shifted to high magnification equipment, and amazing imagery of animal-life began to come in. Then, the monumental discovery they had all hoped for: shelters, structures, and the presence of human-like life forms. Villages, towns, and cities dotted the continents below. Communications personnel quickly sent a message off to Marcova, including the initial imagery of Earth.
Activity onboard reached fever pitch as data poured in from the sensors. Space imaging and satellite technicians working with launch bay personnel readied over 180 surveillance satellites for deployment. Once operational, the satellites formed a network of sensors around the Earth, later known as the Global Imaging System (G.I.S.).
Each satellite housed a sophisticated array of active and passive sensing technologies capable of structural penetration; whether metal, earth, or rock. The system produced high-quality 3D imagery and audio of targeted locations, which was routed to holographic displays throughout the ship.
The ops division was responsible for analyzing the status of Earth’s civilization. It was 804 AD. Barbarism ruled the day. The level of violence and mayhem shocked the crew. The fact that Marcova had also experienced a feudal age made little difference. Nearly everyone struggled with the troubling scenes playing out on the surface below.
Earth observation requirements quickly overwhelmed the ops division. Eventually, the entire crew shared the load. Education personnel conducted training in observation and historical documentation, dividing geographic regions among the crew. Nearly a month was needed for the ship’s language translators to learn Earth’s dialects. Once complete, the task of formal observation began.
Soon, medical and biological teams ventured earthward to collect samples. Having witnessed the devastating effects of the plague and other viruses on Earth’s population, the first priority was to protect the crew. Marcovan zoologists collected small animals to study their resistance to disease. The resulting vaccines paved the way for other types of expeditions.
Earth offered a rich assortment of exploration sites far from human populations. Everyone from archaeologist to oceanographer
was excited at the prospect of discovery. Landing craft soon ventured out several times each day ferrying teams and equipment to and from locations all over the planet. Lab technicians analyzed samples and cataloged findings. Archivists gathered and edited large volumes of imagery, eventually merging all data into one massive chronicle of Marcova’s first mission to Earth.
ERS-2 entered Earth orbit in 854 AD. After two months of overlap, ERS-1 departed for home.
For the crew of ERS-1, their time away had yielded a mountain of discoveries. But of all the samples, specimens, and imaged documents, nothing had greater impact on the Marcovan people than a unique collection of scrolls found among Earth’s spiritual manuscripts. These scrolls described a Supreme Being named Yahweh and His dealings with Israel, a small nation in the Eastern Mediterranean region. Later manuscripts gave accounts of Yahweh’s Son, Jesus Christ, and the men who followed Him. Most amazingly, they told of His sacrificial death and resurrection. Though many of the crew viewed these writings as foolishness, to others the words brought amazement and great joy. Initially, only a handful of the crew professed belief in Christ. Then others, seeing remarkable changes in these few, also embraced the Christian faith. By the time the ship returned home, nearly one-third of the crew were professing Christians. Many felt that Yahweh had drawn them to Earth for no other purpose than to receive His “Good News” and bring it back to their home world. In the centuries that followed, these spiritual manuscripts captured hearts all over Marcova...so much so that by the time ERS-23 departed Marcova in Earth-year 1932, Christianity was the most prominent Marcovan faith.
CHAPTER 1
The senior council meeting had droned on well beyond the norm. As Captain Argon expected, the last item on the agenda produced a heated discussion between Dr. Stratford, chief medical officer, and Doc Socal, senior zoologist.
Intelligent, dedicated, and personable, Dr. Ariel Stratford, at 38, was the youngest of the senior council. He attained his position following the medical retirement of his predecessor, Doc Raphin. For a Marcovan, Ari was average in height at 6 foot 5 inches, with striking pale blue eyes and thick sand-colored hair.
As a senior council member, his uniform varied somewhat from others in his vocation. His tunic, in addition to the deep blue color of other medical personnel, displayed a magnificent field of stars across the shoulders and a small silver mission badge on his upper chest. The right side of his mock turtleneck bore four perfect one-carat diamonds in a compact horizontal row.
Though Dr. Stratford was usually pleasant and considerate, ongoing personal issues and Doc Socal’s abrasive attitude tested his patience.
“Look, Ari,” Doc Socal complained, irritated, “we’ve been working in the Phoenix Islands five years now. Your people and earlier Earth missions have been over those islands with a fine-toothed comb. Sure, they found a few bugs, but nothing serious. Besides, we’re all inoculated.”
“Yes, however that research was confined to the three southern islands,” Ari clarified. “We’re talking about a new island here. I’ve looked through the archives, and there is no record of any visit to Birnie.”
With an indignant look, Doc Socal said, “My word, Doc, these are just coral atolls here, and Birnie’s less than a hundred miles from Orona. How much more dangerous can it be?”
“I understand what you’re saying,” Ari said, trying to remain calm. “And if circumstances were different, I’d have little problem with this. However, you neglected to mention that Birnie is a densely populated nesting habitat for a wide variety of sea birds, not to mention a few species of rodents. And for those of this council who are unaware, birds and rats are known disease-carriers. If one or all of your team should fall prey to a new virus, there is little chance we’d be able to produce an effective drug in time to save them. We’ve already lost five people this way, including two of our senior staff.” Ari paused. “Look, we’re going to be here for another thirty-five years. Just give us two weeks to collect samples and run some tests.”
Seeing support for Ari in the faces around the table, Doc Socal backed down and accepted the inevitable.
Captain Argon took advantage of the temporary lull to offer some closing comments and adjourn the meeting.
Ari rose from his seat, stowed his interface tablet, and joined others making their way out of the conference room. He paused to speak with the senior counselor, then headed for the medical bay, stopping by the psych division to see Doc Walt Maran, one of a few under-counselors.
Walt was showing a patient out when Ari arrived. “And to what do I owe this honor?” he jested.
“Relax,” Ari said, smiling, “—just a social visit.”
Doc Maran was tall, even for a Marcovan. Almost a head taller than Ari, his voice was deep and resonant; his social skills, exceptional—two qualities that made him well suited to his calling.
Referring to Ari’s case study, Walt asked, “So how’s Adie these days? Last time we talked, she wasn’t feeling very well; touch of the flu, as I recall.”
———————
Marcovan observation methods had changed over time. Earth’s geographic regions were no longer divided among the crew. While this method afforded a reasonable assessment of geopolitical activities, it provided little insight into the people of Earth or their cultures. Consequently, Earth research missions tested a number of observation methods, but in the end, the “case study” approach proved most effective. Under this concept, the ops division assigned crewmembers to observe the life of a single individual within a culture. First, ops personnel sought out and compiled a list of prospects. Then, based on seniority, crewmembers selected a culture. Ari, as key personnel, was among the first and chose the Hebrew culture, feeling naturally drawn to the root of his faith.
International events and geopolitical activities were still of great interest but were now the sole responsibility of the ops division.
———————
“She’s better,” Ari replied. “Thanks for asking—still worried about her, though.”
“Something happen?”
Ari shook his head. “Not really, it’s just, she never seems to get a break.”
“How’s that?”
“You know...a Jewish Christian in a Jewish community—makes life difficult. She has people all around her, but she feels completely alone. And to top it off, her commune couldn’t have picked a more dangerous location for a settlement—right next to the Syrian border.” Ari stopped himself. “You know, you really shouldn’t get me started.”
“Sorry old boy; should have picked a different subject.”
“Forget it…. Anyway, I came by to see if you’re coming to the chapel fellowship tomorrow night.”
“You bet,” said Walt, “wouldn’t miss it.”
“I think Katie’s going to sing for us,” Ari said. “It should be a good time.”
A middle-aged crewman entered the waiting room and checked in with Walt’s assistant.
“Look, I don’t want to keep you,” Ari said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Walt shook Ari’s hand. “Looking forward to it.”
CHAPTER 2
Ari saw three patients that morning, beginning with a minor emergency—a bio technician in the field research bay had been bitten by one of the primates. After treating the wound and applying tissue stimulation, Ari asked the crewman to return the next day. The other two appointments were routine physicals, the first of which, went quickly. The second involved a landing craft pilot.
Merrick Borgan stood six and a half feet tall with a powerful physique. He was strikingly handsome with bright green eyes and close-cropped hair. Physically, Merrick was in perfect condition, something Ari had come to expect of that career group. However, Ari couldn’t help noticing that the man seemed troubled. “Something bothering you?” Ari asked. “You look a little downhearted.”
Merrick was hesitant to answer. “Oh, I don’t know...guess I’ve been in a bit of a rut lately.”
&n
bsp; “And how long’s this been going on?”
“Actually, for a while now…. Every trip to the surface I’m reminded how much time has passed since we arrived here. It’s 1947 down there—15 years in orbit and 35 more before we see home. Now, don’t get me wrong, the job is great. It’s just...when I look back on some of the choices I’ve made—”
“Personal choices?”
Merrick nodded. “Anyway, I just feel like something’s missing.”
Ari was beginning to feel that Merrick might do better speaking with a counselor or the ship’s chaplain, but out of courtesy, he let him go on.
“A few of the people I work with are Christians,” Merrick said. “They appear to be—I don’t know—content; full of life, genuine life, not a façade like others I know. They seem like people I’d enjoy being around, but the whole Christian thing sounds a little scary…. You’re a Christian, aren’t you, Doc?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Are you happy?”
“Very...though my life isn’t perfect. I have some down days, like anyone else. I guess the difference is, there’s always someone I can turn to...and I find peace in that.”
Merrick dropped his gaze to the floor. “Well, something’s got to change.... I guess if there’s one lesson I’ve learned in all of this, it’s that man can’t live on technology alone...not any kind of meaningful life, anyway.” Looking once again at Ari, he added, “I hope you don’t mind. I just needed to talk to someone about it, someone I could trust. When I heard you were a Christian, I thought, ‘Hey, if I can’t trust the Doc, then who can I trust?’”
Amazed at Merrick’s openness, Ari said, “No problem... Listen, I get off at 1600. Would you like to stop by my quarters at, say, 1630?”
The invitation lifted Merrick’s spirits. “Thank you, yes I would. I’ll be there.”
The conversation concluded, and Merrick left for the launch bay.
CHAPTER 3
Ari approached his display, hoping to look in on Adie before Merrick arrived. A voice-directed interface controlled the device and most automation in his quarters. As with other crewmen, he had assigned the interface a unique name in order to avoid confusion.