Prologue
Somehow, my prey had escaped. I chased after it, thinking I could outrun it easily, after all, it was a frail, hairless, two legged thing, looking like it might topple over because it was so top heavy. But it was also a quick little beast, dashing away through the dense vegetation around my home as if it had done it a thousand times. I hurdled after it, reaching for it with my tentacles. I desperately wanted it not to escape, because although it was scrawny, it would still make a fine meal.
After that, something I could never have expected happened. Another of the small, two legged things, which apparently wasn't too bright, came out from behind a bush and threw a rock at me. I bellowed at it, and was momentarily confused, because I hadn't brought this one here, only the other one. I put the matter aside for the moment and tried to catch this creature. It was fatter than the other one, and also slower. Perfect, or so I thought. I lunged at the thing, but then something terrible happened. It pulled out an odd thing, a metal tube with a handle at one end. I had seen metal and all sorts of wonders from other planets, but never something like this. I wondered what it was for, but then, as the creature fired it, I found out.
My skin burned with excruciating pain, and I reared up and howled involuntarily. I smelled burning fur and flesh, and realized dimly that it was my own. The pain was quickly ebbing for some reason, so I tried to attack again, but the awful pain came again and again. I fell to the ground, my vision blurring. I could feel both my hearts beating in my ears, but then one of the two rhythms grew erratic and faint, and then died out altogether. I knew that I should feel pain from this, but remarkably I only felt a slight, dull pain. Everything seemed to be going dim; colors seemed to blend and morph, sounds seemed to be more distant. Everything seemed so far off, so unreal, like a dream or a long forgotten memory. Then, there was nothing.
Chapter 1
The date was May 20th, 2057. Captain Paul Schneiderman stood some fifty feet away from the launch pad amidst a large crowd of people, the hot sun reflecting off of his mirrored aviator sunglasses. In front of him was the smooth form of Messenger, which wavered in the heat, and looked more like a mirage than a spacecraft. Contributing to this effect was the fact that it looked virtually nothing like conventional spacecraft; despite its massive size, it was not chunky and hulking like the space shuttles and the Saturn rockets and Skylab. Its undulating shape seemed exotic compared to these legends, the pioneers of space flight. Since their time, several missions to the moon as well as to Mars had happened, and there was even a small colony and an iron mining operation on Mars. But the public had grown bored of space exploration, and NASA lost funding for decades. It wasn't until the concept of the warp drive that another mission was planned, because this time, the target wasn't something so close as the moon or Mars or the moons of Jupiter. Ever since extraterrestrials were discovered on a planet orbiting Betelgeuse twenty years ago, the public's interest in space had flared back to life. Now, after years of developing, testing, and billions of dollars of tax money, the planet's first intergalactic starship had been built, and what a starship it was. It wasn't built to launch straight out of the atmosphere, but to fly gradually up like an airplane and then, once the atmosphere was too thin to fly in, use its rocket boosters to go into orbit.
Captain Schneiderman would be part of that journey, for he was to be piloting the ship itself along with nineteen others. He had gone through rigorous training to be here, and had passed all the tests. He had wanted to go into space ever since he was a child, when extraterrestrial life was a new discovery. He had always fantasized and dreamed about meeting nonhuman intelligent beings. What would they be like? Would they be hostile or friendly? He knew from the satellite photos that they weren't very advanced, but that was a few years ago. All this had run through his mind hundreds of times already, and he still didn't have any idea of exactly what it would be like.
***
Several scientists and engineers were standing in front of the chromed surface of the nose of the smooth craft. The head of the project, Dr. Daniel Lieberman, stood behind a modern looking podium, with a brushed metal finish. There was nothing made of wood anymore, as about a decade ago trees had become so rare that a law had been passed making it illegal to cut them down. As Dr. Lieberman addressed the crowd, the murmur of several hundred voices speaking quieted.
“Good evening,” he said, slightly nervous. “My team of engineers and I have worked tirelessly for years waiting for this day to arrive, and now it has. During this time we have been working on a a marvel of human endeavor; this moment will go down in history, for until this day we have had the tantalizing proof of extraterrestrial life, yet although we said 'we are not alone,' we truly were, for this other life had no idea we were here, because even at light speed it would take hundreds of years to reach even the nearest interstellar locations, and modern engines don't go a twentieth that speed. However, once we had come up with the concept of how the warp drive was to work, we knew that we, humans, were truly not alone.”
A news reporter raised his hand. “Yes?” Dr. Lieberman said carefully, knowing that the rest of his career hinged on the response to this first question.
“Can you give us some idea as to how the warp drive actually works?” the man asked as several camera men from a variety of news stations were pointing cameras at Dr. Lieberman.
All the blood seemed to run out of Dr. Lieberman's head this would be a hard question to answer. The drive itself was extremely complex, and involved several extremely advanced physics principles which most grad students wouldn't know, let alone the average American.
“Well, let me first explain the principle it is based on,” he began, unprepared for the question. “When you get particles going fast enough and ram them together at high speeds, the matter is briefly scrambled and turns non-baryonic. In this non-baryonic state, sometimes points in space-time form a correspondence, called a wormhole. Th—”
“What does this have to do with the warp drive exactly?” interrupted the news man impatiently.
“Our drive is actually a wormhole generator, only on the large scale. We're able to generate a wormhole in whatever location we please, including directly in front of the ship, and create a corresponding endpoint as well, such as, say, near our target destination,” Dr. Lieberman said with confidence.
The reporter turned towards the cameraman and started talking to thousands of people watching on their holographic view screens, which had replaced television long ago. The launch would be tomorrow, and the press was giving it all the hype it possibly could. Both Schneiderman and Lieberman were nervous as anything, but the captain even more so, because he was handling the majority of the flight, Lieberman would only assist while they were within the solar system, for the radio signal would give out shortly after they were past the Kuiper belt. It would be a long ride after that.
***
I awoke in a sterile, hospital like environment. The walls, ceiling and floor were not defined at all but instead merged together like the inside of an egg. The light didn't seem to come from anywhere, as everything had a soft glow, but when I looked up the light seemed to be glowing more brightly. I tried to stand up groggily, but I wasn't able to get up. I looked down at myself and saw that synthetic rope had been tied around all my tentacles and my legs, suddenly I was aware that I had no memory of where I was or how I had come to be there. The last thing I remembered was me chasing something, some animal or other I had brought to my homeworld to eat, after it had escaped. The details were fuzzy and I couldn't quite remember what had happened. I put the thought out of my mind and tried to concentrate on the current situation.
Suddenly, after sitting for a few minutes thinking about whether I should try to find a way to escape, a holographic image came out of the light at the top of the enclosure. On it a horrifically familiar face appeared. It was a man's face, with chiselled features and cold blue eyes. The long nose stood out unnaturally on such a perfect face, and longish brown hair fell over his forehead.
I growled and shrieked at the same time as a memory struck me. This man was in that fuzzy memory, he had somehow brought me here, made me be in this cell.
“Greetings, alien life form. We do no know if you are intelligent enough to understand this message,” the man's voice said inside my head through telepathy, “But if you are,” he continued dubiously, “use your native tongue's affirmative word or phrase.” The language and gestures themselves were not transferred over the telepathy system, but subtle nuances like narcissism and scorn were.
I growled “Ghnarhf”, my language's affirmative word, loudly and clearly toward the holographic display, making sure my intention was understood.
There was a momentary air of shock from the other end of the connection, presumably that I was actually smart enough to use a holodisplay. This was squelched within seconds though, and the professionalism was resumed.
“We had previously decided to eradicate your species because you were a hazard to all the inhabitants of the local planets of this system, which we have colonies established on,” he said, pausing to let this sink in, “but we did not realize that your... people were sentient. One of the crew members, a damned activist no doubt, insisted that we make sure that your race wasn't intelligent and now we'll have bloody genocide charges against us if we kill you. Great.” He was clearly annoyed, even a wet leaf could tell that. Still he continued, now ranting more than telling me anything. “Conveniently, if the Galactic Council deems your species enough of a threat we get to euthanize all of you brutes anyway. That will be fun, I used to be on a ship equipped with a death ray. We never used it, but it was still fun to fantasize about what we could've done. Anyway, you'll stand trial tomorrow. See you in twenty-four hours,” he said. His voice cut out, but his face remained for a second or two longer.
I then realized what exactly the man had done. A wave of nausea passed over me. I gagged and then retched. I was so shocked, because I now knew why the man in the holograph had been familiar. My fuzzy memory now crystallized into perfect clarity, for I had the missing piece of the puzzle. The man – he was the one that killed me, or tried to kill me, and he had the pipe that shot fire at me, or...
My memory trailed off there. I knew that one of my hearts had stopped, but I guess just the one heart was sufficient to circulate my blood. After all, I reasoned, that must've been why my people had evolved with two hearts – so that if one fails, there is another to live on. Very useful in an animal plagued by diseases which cause heart attacks. I touched a vein on the left side of my neck with the tip of one of my tentacles. No pulse. So it was my left heart that was gone. That would be okay, because the left heart was the smaller of the two. I calmed down a bit, and the nausea went away. I still knew I might die soon
I still knew my planet was depending on me.
I still knew I would fail them, because the humans would just put on a show trial, I would surely be killed anyway, along with my entire planet.
But I went to sleep, because I knew I would need to be awake the next day.
***
Captain Paul Schneiderman got ready for what might just be the last time he saw the lovely blue oasis that was the Earth. No one really knew what would happen to the USS Messenger. Unmanned tests had been done, but there was still always a lingering fear: What if something went wrong? What then? Would Paul and 19 other men and women be stranded hundreds of lightyears from home?
“Paul,” said Wallace Snare, a botanist who was to be on the ship with him, “What exactly do you think we'll find on that other planet?” His voice was even, but Paul could tell that he was very nervous, even more so than Paul himself was.
“I really don't know, I... I don't know what to think. I mean, what if their civilization isn't all that advanced? What if it's just like all the really old sci-fi from a hundred years ago, only we're the bad guys, the aliens coming down from the sky in a weird looking space ship?”
Wallace was silent for a moment. He hadn't thought about it that way. “I don't know,” he said after a moment.
Just then, Chief Engineer Albert Nicholson came in. Albert was going to be on the Messenger as well, but no one liked him. He was not just conceited, but also cruel. The only reason he was on the ship was because of his extensive knowledge of rocket science. He had helped design the propulsion system of the ship, so he would know how to fix anything that could go wrong.
Wallace, who was a nice guy but completely oblivious to other people's personalities, asked what Albert's opinion was. “Al, what do you think? What happens if the people from the other planet don't like us being there? What if they're too primitive to understand why we're there?”
Albert looked coldly at him for a moment. His intense eyes seemed to drive straight into Wallace, who then realized his mistake. Albert opened his mouth to speak, paused briefly and then said, in his thick British accent, “What the bloody hell do we care about the aliens? If they're that primitive then they'll think we're gods or something. All the better. As an added bonus, them being so primitive will even mean they won't have some sort of laser and shoot at us, or try to blow us up with a thermonuclear weapon.”
Everyone in the room went silent.
***
The twenty intrepid men and women boarded the USS Messenger, which took off shortly thereafter. The ride was like riding a commercial air craft at first, excepting of course the many strange controls and the immense warp drive on the back of the smooth, wing like fuselage. Later, however, when the atmosphere grew thin, Paul pressed the large, red button marked “Initial Escape Boosters.”
“Initiating the escape boosters,” Paul said into the intercom.
“Go for initial escape in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...” said Dr. Lieberman's voice over the speaker.
“Escape boosters go.” Paul said.
There was a guttural explosion-like noise, but the explosion never seemed to end, but instead to escalate into a deafening roar. The entire craft shook violently.
“Initiating secondary escape boosters,” Paul yelled over the noise of the boosters.
“Go for secondary escape.” said the doctor.
“Secondary boosters go.” Paul shouted.
Another tremendous thud shook the ship. Nothing was said over the intercom for a minute or so. The roar of the secondary booster gradually died down, and then Paul said “We've left the atmosphere. Now orbiting according to the flight plan.”
After a moment, Lieberman's voice came over the intercom with a lot of cheering in the background. “Good job, congratulations. There's a bit of a gap between now and when your window to escape the solar system, so you won't hear from me for another twelve hours.”
“Roger. Messenger, signing out.” Paul said.
***
Twelve hours later, a small beep emanated from Paul's headset. His eyes opened instantly, for he was an extremely light sleeper.
“Damn,” he swore, looking at the digital clock readout on the screen next to him. It read 02:34. Half past two in the morning.
He glanced around himself, and saw several other members of the crew waking up and connecting to mission control. Albert and Wallace sat next to him, the latter of which was now groggily coming to.
“Ugghh,” Wallace moaned. He was not a morning person.
Paul peered at him through tired eyes, smiling wanly. “Morning, sunshine,” he chided. “C'mon, let's link up with the guys on Earth.”
“Okay. Lemme boot up my terminal,” Wallace said in the slurred voice of someone who really, really wants to be asleep.
“Mr. Nicholson,” Paul said to Albert, “Wake up.”
Albert just glared at him and grudgingly did as ordered.
Paul typed a few commands into his terminal and had a link going in a minute or so. Dr. Lieberman's voice crackled over the speaker.
“Houston to Messenger, do you read?” Lieberman queried.
“Messenger here, I read you loud and clear. We're ready for planned exit of Earth's orbit, over,” Paul said into the microphone.
“Roger. These boosters won't be as powerful as your escape boosters were, these are plasma boosters. It'll take a little while longer, but these are more efficient than the ionized nitrogen boosters,” Lieberman explained.
“Sure, just so long as it gets us where we're going,” Paul said, a smile at the corners of his lips.
“They will, because once they get you to a point where your gravity wakes won't disturb the Earth, you're warping out of here at a speed that'll make your eyes pop out of your head. This is the real deal, you're going to Ukungu.*”
“Understood. Engaging plasma boosters. Over and out.”
Paul flipped the switch, and a low rumble started up from the plasma boosters.
*(I wrote this as a footnote in the original document) Ukungu is the name of the planet that the mission was destined for. The name, meaning “mist” in Swahili, is so because the jungles and rain forests of the planet are filled with a dense fog of oxygen-rich compounds. The exotic trees and plants of Ukungu did not draw their energy from the dying star that the planet orbited, but instead from its geothermal energy supply, which would last nearly forever because of the planet's unusually large orbital flexure due to its exaggerated elliptical orbit. Basically, the planet was warm, and the plants used the heat.
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