Authors: Unknown
“Range?”
“No way to tell other than to note it is approaching the gate. Do you want me to power up the radar?”
“Negative. Maintain electromagnetic emissions blackout. Continue to track visually.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“What do you make of it, Sar-Say?” he asked. The Taff was seated in the observer’s chair and was having as much trouble breathing as the humans. Somehow, his comical figure looked a little less comical as he struggled to turn his head toward Landon. Despite his discomfort, he gazed at the captain with wide-eyed excitement. He had been excited during the entire approach. Even those who had not had much contact with the alien recognized the change in him.
“I would say that it is routine traffic, Captain. This particular stargate is the only one in the system. All shipping must converge on this point.”
“Right. We will continue the approach then. Sensors! Stay alert to any sign that he has spotted us.”
A ship in the vicinity was a complication he did not need, but it was not the source of the sudden feeling that he had forgotten something important. Landon disliked having the hair on the back of his neck standing up in the middle of the most important approach orbit of his life. He took a few moments to prod his subconscious for the stray thought. Suddenly, he knew what it was that was bothering him and a sick knot formed in the pit of his stomach.
“Damn!”
“What is the matter, Daniel?” his first officer asked.
“Gravity wave!” he answered. “We’ve overlooked the damned gravity wave!”
“I beg your problem.”
“Don’t you see? Even if that ship fails to spot our approach, the locals will know we did not come through the stargate. Our arrival will not be accompanied by a gravity wave!”
Raoul Bendagar, who was operating the science console two places down from Landon, grimaced. “You are right! How could we have possibly forgotten something so elementary?”
“It is one hell of a time to think of it now. Sar-Say, your opinion.”
The Taff had been observing the humans, wondering at their sudden agitation. When addressed, he shrugged. “I do not believe it important, Captain. The planet’s gravity masks the waves and it is unlikely that anyone monitors them closely.”
“Raoul, do you agree?”
Bendagar also shrugged. “No data on which to form a conclusion. I propose that we go with Sar-Say’s evaluation.”
Landon pondered the problem. Instead of making a decision, he snapped, “Sensors. How far is that ship from the gate?”
“As I said, we can’t get its range unless we ping it with radar.”
“That isn’t what I mean. What is its angular separation, and how fast is that separation closing?”
“Uh, about half a degree. It has closed perceptibly while I have been watching it.”
“Estimate as to when it will reach the gate?”
“An hour, maybe two.”
“Right. We may be in business. Pilot, reprogram the computer to adjust our deceleration. I want to arrive in the vicinity of the stargate as near as possible to the moment when that ship enters it.”
“The timing cannot be exact, Captain. Not without range data.”
“Understood. Just measure the closure rate of the ship’s image and change our decel accordingly.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What do you have in mind?” Bendagar asked.
“Simple, Mr. Chief Scientist. We slow to an intrasystem speed compatible with reaching the gate at the same time as that target vessel, and then we reveal ourselves a few minutes after he goes through the gate. That way, the Orpheans may mistake his departure for our arrival.
Sar-Say uncovered his teeth in a mock human smile. “Very clever, Captain. If I am wrong and they do monitor the ships by their gravity waves, they may mistake his jump wave for one that we would have produced as we came through the stargate.”
#
Two hours later, they had slowed to 28 kilometers per second and closed to within 20,000 kilometers of the stargate. The other ship, which appeared a dim star on the viewscreen, still had not jumped. Landon was beginning to wonder if that other captain were ever going to quit dawdling. He was about to swear under his breath when the image winked out and a clatter ran through the control room.
“Moderate-strength gravity wave detected, Captain,” the sensor operator announced. “It came directly from the stargate.”
Landon quietly let out the breath he had been holding, before asking, “Sar-Say, how long would a ship normally wait after arrival before it contacted Orphean approach control?"
“Between five and ten minutes, Captain. There are machines to tame and other duties to perform when arriving in a new system. The crew would do these things first before announcing themselves to those who control ship traffic.”
“Right. We will give them five minutes and then call in with our arrival announcement. Thank you, Sar-Say; you have been a great help. Now, if you will please return to your cabin, we will start our preparations for contact.
“But I can help, Captain. Please let me stay.”
Landon frowned. Sar-Say’s request was not a new one, but he thought the alien understood the situation.
He certainly did not need the distraction. “Miss Arden…” This last was spoken to thin air, or rather, to the ship’s computer, which routed the message to where Lisa was waiting out the approach.
“Yes, Captain?” her voice answered from the same thin air.
“Please come and help your charge back to his cabin. Report to me when things are secure in accordance with General Order Sixteen.”
“Yes, sir.”
General Order 16 covered first contact with any alien race of the Sovereignty. It ordered that Sar-Say be locked in his cabin and cut off from all means of communication with his compatriots. He was to have no contact whatever with them.
Lisa floated into the control room less than a minute later. She pulled herself to a position just in front of Landon’s station.
“Take Sar-Say back to his cabin, Miss Arden, and make him as comfortable as General Order Sixteen allows.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Taff unbuckled and scrambled toward the hatchway before Lisa could turn around. He paused in the hatch and looked back at her with his yellow eyes. She turned to follow.
“And, Lisa…”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Patch Sar-Say into the main command circuit. Let him monitor our progress. If he has any advice for us, I want you to pass it on. You are to do all of the communicating - not him. Understood?”
“Understood, sir. Sar-Say is to monitor and if there is anything he thinks you should know, I will relay it.”
“Good. Now get him out of here. I can’t open the circuit until I know he is safely locked up.”
“On my way, Captain.”
Landon watched her float back out of the control room, following the small hairy shape that was so much more skilled than any human was while maneuvering in microgravity. Then he forgot about Lisa and her alien charge as he turned his attention back to his task.
“One minute, Captain,” his communicator said.
Suddenly, the tension in the control room was palpable. It was a heavier weight than the 2.5 gravs they had undergone so recently. Unlike the deceleration, this pressure was mental.
At thirty seconds to zero, Lisa announced that Sar-Say was ensconced in his bunk and that the two of them were safely locked in the alien’s cabin. Landon glanced at his readouts. Sure enough, the security system showed all passages into and out of the alien’s area to be secure. The cabin would not have met the standards for a modern bank vault, but did not miss them by much.
“Ten seconds, Captain. Shall I count down?”
“No need to be dramatic, Mr. Peale.”
Even as he said it, Landon realized the incongruity of his statement. If there was ever a dramatic moment in human history, this was it. Suddenly, a lesson from his school days floated unbidden to mind.
They had been watching a documentary in tenth grade history about the first atomic weapon ever used in battle. It had been dropped, he remembered, on a Japanese city with a name that sounded like a sneeze, but one he could never remember. As the ancient bomber approached the city, the pilot had announced to his crew that everything was being recorded for posterity and that they should watch their language.
Symbolically, he was in much the same position as that long dead bomber pilot. Just as the world had never been the same after that first atom bomb, the human universe was about to change. Whether Sar-Say had told them the truth no longer mattered. However, the next few minutes turned out, the human race would not be the same afterwards. A galaxy empty of other intelligent species was on the verge of dying, and one crowded with sapients was about to be born. The moving finger, having writ, would move on.
Dan Landon cleared his throat, wished he were really the imperturbable captain he pretended to be, and signaled the communicator. “End E-M isolation and give me a tight beam aimed at the planet.”
“Beam coming to power, sir. Beam at full power. Modulator is operable. Whenever you are ready.”
Landon took a deep breath and said in his best Broan trade talk,
“Planetary approach center. This is
space freighter
Wanderer.
We are clear of the stargate and request approach instructions. We will
await your reply. End message.”
There was nothing but silence on the comm circuits. They had not expected anything else. Orpheus III was a full light-minute distant from the stargate. Any message would take 60 seconds to get there and another 60 to get back. No reply was possible for at least two minutes, and that was assuming that the authorities on the other end answered promptly.
Dan Landon sat back in his chair to await the response. Despite his outward calm, he could feel beads of perspiration forming on his face and between his shoulder blades. This would be the longest two minutes of his life.
“How long now, Communicator?”
“Two minutes, 22 seconds, Captain.”
“What do you think, Raoul? Shall we call again?”
Bendagar pursed his bushy eyebrows and said, “Give them another minute, Captain.”
Suddenly, there was a sound from the Broan communicator. It was not a voice. Merely an electronic noise that was midway between a beep and a buzz. Then, a mechanical voice said:
“Starship
Wanderer.
This is Klys’kra’t Space Control. Where are you from and what is your business?”
Dan Landon let himself give into the luxury of a broad grin. In fact, the Broan trade talk was too simple for long-winded discussions. Even if it had allowed him to render Hamlet’s soliloquy into Broan, the two-minute communications delay would have stifled any extended dialogue. The literal translation of what the communicator had said was: “Ship
Wanderer. We Klys’kra’t orbit monitor. Where and what
business?”
However, the brain’s ability to analyze disjointed verbal input is one of the wonders of the human body. With the few clues that trade talk provided, he had understood what was being asked and even filled in the missing words.
“Klys'kra’t orbital monitor. We are a trading vessel originally from Shangri-La on an extended
voyage to develop new markets. We request permission to approach and show you our wares.”
Two minutes went by before the words came again.
“We are unfamiliar with your world/star. You may approach to within communications range. We
will discuss your species’ peculiar needs then. Klys’kra’t Control. End transmission.”
There were grins all around as Dan Landon sat back in his acceleration chair and smiled. After a few seconds, he said to no one in particular, “Well, that wasn’t so bad. I wonder what I was worried about.”
It took a few seconds for him to order the ship’s engines to power. The feeling of relief was just too good not to savor. Finally, however, he keyed the command circuit that would send his voice echoing throughout the ship.
“All hands! This is the Captain speaking. For those who have not been monitoring
communications - both of you! - I have an announcement. We have made contact with the aliens
of this system and we are going in. The masquerade begins now!”
“Pilot, take us to power and close the distance to Orpheus III ... no, Klys’kra’t, if that is the name of the planet and not the species. Remember, we are just a poor ramshackle old freighter, so don’t show them anything spectacular in the way of propulsion.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Sensors.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Everything you have to full gain. If they so much as sneeze in our direction, I want to know about it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Communications.”
“Here, sir.”
“Download everything we have to date and send to
Columbus
and
Magellan
on a tight beam. Use the maximum power that won’t leave an ionization trail that could be traced back to them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Having placed his crew in motion, Dan Landon glanced around the control room. Everyone was bent over their console, working at their assigned tasks. The scene was incongruously ordinary. It seemed as though life should now be different. With the thought came fatigue. The tension leading up to first contact had been palpable, but now that it was gone, he missed it. As always, the
doing
had been easier than the
waiting
. For now, at least, the first giant hurdle had been overcome. He wondered how many more such hurdles they would have to surmount before they found their way home again.
He had not finished the thought when a gentle hand forced him down into his seat and the stars began to move on the viewscreen. When the stars stabilized, a small blue-white crescent had taken its place center-screen. It was just his imagination, but it seemed to be growing even as he watched.
#
“Have you ever heard the name ‘Klys’kra’t’?” Lisa asked Sar-Say.
The two of them reclined on their respective bunks as they watched the same view of the planet that Captain Landon was seeing in the control room.
“No, Lisa. I have only been in this part of the Sovereignty one time. That was the … uh, week … that I spent on Zzumer. These Klys’kra’t beings were not the subject of any of my conversations. Do people think that I am lying when I deny knowledge?”