“What’s the meaning of ‘united ternary’?” Olaf asked. Having overcome his disappointment at not being permitted on the surface expedition, he was hovering over JT’s shoulder monitoring the planet below.
“From other information in the historical stream, it would seem that the natives are a form of composite life, where the fundamental unit of being consists of three quasi-independent sub-units linked together. They are evidently born as individual organisms but quickly link together to from triads.”
“Is the association permanent?” asked the Captain.
“As far as I can tell, yes. In fact, it would seem that the sub-units are physically joined to each other. They share consciousness but retain some ability to process thoughts independently.”
“That might explain the three messages merged into one,” JT proposed. “Carrying on a conversation with one of these triad things could be very confusing.”
“We came looking for aliens, JT,” Olaf replied, “and it looks like we hit the jackpot. They certainly aren’t strangely colored humans with prosthetic parts glued on.”
“Is there an image of one of these creatures included?” Jack asked, smiling at Olaf’s remark.
“There is no pictorial representation contained in the message,” answered the computer. “It is possible that they do not have eyes or imaging senses as humans do.”
“I think we have seen them,” said JT. “Remember when Sally spotted those odd cactus like plants that always seemed grouped in threes? They filled a valley on the upward slope of a finger of land near the equator. Here is the original video.” A view of the valley in question appeared on the large forward view screen.
“Yes, they could well be the natives,” Olaf commented, peering intently at the image. “There are several hundred of them in this valley alone, have we seen them elsewhere?”
“I have checked the video from the ship and the survey drones and there are signs of at least a dozen other such concentrations within the temperate band. And Captain?”
“Yes, Peggy Sue?”
“The final message thread seems to contain landing instructions for a site near the original colony. They would like any landing craft to approach from the water side and not pass over the valley.”
“You could have mentioned that earlier,” the Captain said sharply. “Feed the coordinates to navigation. Mr. Taylor, show us the location on the planet and the suggested approach.”
The overhead view of the valley was immediately replaced with an image of the planet which then zoomed in for a closer view of the landing zone and the glide-path descending from orbit.
We have been invited to land,
Jack thought,
probably best to not get off on the wrong foot by ignoring the landing instructions.
“Shuttle One, Peggy Sue.”
“Peggy Sue, Shuttle One, over.” came the reply.
“Commander, we have just received a message from the planet welcoming us and providing landing instructions. I think it might be a good idea to comply with the native’s wishes and land where they indicated.”
“Roger, Peggy Sue. We just received the location and landing instructions from navigation. We can vector to that location in about 90 minutes. Do we have a go for landing?”
“Roger that, Shuttle One. Proceed using your own judgment. By the way, we think that the natives are those triple trunked cacti sighted by Dr. Li earlier. They seem capable of communications by radio, whether they generate sound or other transmissions is unknown. The ship’s computer is able to translate to some extent so we may need to loop any conversation through the ship.”
“Roger, Sir. I will call when we are out of reentry blackout and headed for the landing zone. Shuttle One out.”
* * * * *
Two hours later, Shuttle One was sitting on a gentle, mossy slope about 100 meters from a sheltered cove. The bloated red sun lay low on the horizon, painting clouds in shades of pink, burgundy and vermilion. A perpetual sunset, forever denying twilight’s advance.
The expeditionary force, nine humans and two bears, had disembarked and was preparing to move inland toward the valley of suspected native inhabitants. Before heading inland, Ludmilla informed the others that she was going to take a sample of sea water from the cove for later analysis on board the ship.
“I’ll come with you,” said Isbjørn, following after the biologist. Movement for both bears and humans was not proving to be a problem in their powered space armor. Stuck on board ship for over a month, the bears had no opportunity to swim and though it would not be advisable to attempt swimming in armor, Isbjørn still wanted to get a closer look at the water.
“If we were not suited up, you would probably find the water temperature pleasant, Isbjørn,” commented Ludmilla, bending down at the water’s edge. Small gentle waves lapped against the sandy shore, like ripples on a large lake. As the scientist held an open sample bottle beneath the surface, a red and brown suckered tentacle slid from the water and coiled around her extended arm.
“
Der’mo!,
” she exclaimed and immediately tried to pull away. The tentacle slipped a bit against the smooth surface of the suit armor but then tightened, holding Ludmilla fast. “Help! Something has grabbed hold of me!”
Quickly, Isbjørn came to Ludmilla’s aid, rising up and landing with both forepaws on the offending tentacle. The impact caused the suckered appendage to release its prey, allowing Ludmilla to scramble backward away from the shoreline. Not one to panic easily, her sample bottle was full and still intact.
As Isbjørn turned away from the water another, larger tentacle shot from the water and wrapped itself around her hindquarters. She yelped in surprise and said, “I think it’s my turn to yell for help!”
Moving swiftly, the Gunny ran past the backward scuttling biologist and drew a mean looking machete from her equipment pack. The long flat blade flared at the top, with a wicked hook on the backside. The machete’s forward edge was only slightly curved and sharper than a razor. With a single swipe, the Gunny severed the clutching tentacle and both bear and Marine hustled away from the water’s edge.
After puting 20 meters between themselves and the water, the rattled expedition members stopped and looked back to see if they were being pursued. Thankfully, no tentacled monster dogged their steps, only ripples on the surface of the bay marking the withdrawal of their aquatic foe. Part of the severed tentacle was still half wrapped around Isbjørn’s legs and the armor encased ursine was having trouble removing the offending member.
“Let me help get that off you,” said Ludmilla, voice a bit loud from the post threat adrenalin rush. “Look, it seems to have stingers as well as suckers. It is still trying to inject you with some form of poison.”
“I sure hope that wasn’t one of the natives,” said the Gunny. “Because, if it was, they aren’t friendly at all.”
“I think my question about intelligent life in the sea has been given a preliminary answer,” Ludmilla continued. “There is life and it appears to be untalkative and hungry.” Over the common radio circuit she called, “someone bring a large sample container for the tentacle.”
“You want to keep that thing?” asked Isbjørn. “Somehow I doubt it is good to eat.”
“I am going to give it to Olaf as a peace offering,” replied Ludmilla. “He should be able to find all sorts of parallel evolutionary adaptations from dissecting it.”
“If you three are done playing with the local squid population, we should head inland and try to find some of the natives,” called Lcdr. Curtis, her sarcastic sense of humor bubbling to the surface. “Shuttle, Curtis. I would suggest you not take any walks along the beach while we are gone.”
“Roger that, Commander,” came Sandy McKennitt’s cheerful Australian accented reply. “We saw the barney with the squid. I think we’ll all just stay inside while you go walkabout.”
“Just so, Lieutenant. All right everyone, let’s move out up that ravine. LCpl. Sanchez and Lt. Bear will take the lead…”
Destroyer of Worlds, Beta Comae Berenices System
The immense ship from Ursae Majoris transitioned to 3-space several AU from the star humans called Beta Comae Berenices. Though great in both size and power, the People’s ship was a ponderous beast. Much of the ship’s mass was contained in the mushroom cap head that provided protection as it moved through space and also held its primary weapon.
That weapon was as primitive as it was effective, consisting of a clutch of sizable asteroids, shaped to neatly huddle together at the bow of the kilometers long ship. Each was provided with a minimal guidance system and propulsion to help refine the terminal end of its intended mission. The plan of attack was simple, head straight for the intended target and release a number of captive asteroids.
Looping around the target’s star, picking up more asteroids if necessary, the ship would make multiple passes until no vestige of civilization or, indeed, higher life survived. The strategy was time consuming but thorough, the ship sluggish and slow to maneuver. If they met opposition, a half dozen smaller craft were attached to the ship’s long stem, ready to launch and provide protection for the mother ship.
One scarred and lonely plant orbited in Beta Comae’s warm zone, what humans would call the system’s habitable zone. Thousands of years ago, other slaves of the Dark Lords had scoured life from that world and constructed a refueling station in orbit around it. Warm vermin had destroyed that station and provoked the Dark Ones’ ire.
Before proceeding to the suspected source of the attack on the refueling station, the Destroyer of Worlds would check this system closely, to ensure that no new infestation of warm life had been left behind. This meant spending time surveying the local neighborhood, but haste did not matter to the Dark Lords, only thoroughness. It was not as if the offending vermin’s planet was going anywhere.
Soon enough, the ship would begin the six and a half day transit to the system which contained the planet they sought. Soon enough death would fall from the skies of that hapless world, bringing terror and extinction to all complex life on the planet. And if, for some inexplicable reason, the Destroyer’s brute force attack failed, the masters would dispatch others, more technologically advanced, to complete the job.
Valley of the Trailing Conclave, Gliese 581d
“The aliens approach; They seem to comprise more than one species; The encounter with the aquatic carnivore was informative,” observed TagFetLuw, as the party of alien visitors wound its way up the ravine that led to the Conclave’s valley home.
“They will arrive shortly; Unless they are a differentiated species or possess significant sexual dimorphism; What do you observe, Ambassador NatHanGon?” responded SudNabSon. The younger triad had slowly worked its way to the edge of the assembly of creatures that were the Trailing Conclave.
“They move cautiously; They favor different locomotive modes, indicating two probable species; The response to the kraken was restrained, not mindlessly violent,” replied the ambassador designate.
“They are close enough to hear our transmissions; Two yes, the large ones could be servants or guards; The sample gatherer took the tentacle as a prize,” said QivCakJol.
“Soon we will try to converse; The tallest of the small ones seems to be in charge; Most likely to study,” affirmed SudNabSon. “NatHanGon will speak for the Conclave; We will know soon enough who speaks for the aliens; They seem to be seekers of knowledge.” The Conclave’s roots pulsed briefly with assent.
* * * * *
The expedition spent an hour hiking up hill, passing through a forest of single stemmed ‘trees’ that stood between four and five meters tall. Each displayed a single broad leaf that started a meter above ground level and continued to the top of an ever narrowing smooth trunk, like a feather sprouting from a quill. In the red light of Gliese 581 both leaf and trunk appeared dark brown to black. As the expedition gained altitude, the wind picked up and rustled through the alien forest as though marking the passage of invisible giants.
“This is some spooky shit,” Sanchez said to LCpl. Brown, one of the new Marines, conversing over short range, inter-suit radio.
“At least nothing has tried to make a meal out of us since we left the seashore,” he replied. Unlike the scientists, officers and bears, the Marines were wearing enclosed battle helmets, making it impossible to see facial expressions.
“I can tell you from experience,” Joey confided, “the best place to be if the shit hits the fan is behind the LT.” Bear, leading the way through the undergrowth, had drifted into suit-to-suit range in time to catch that last remark.
“Either one of you primates shoots me in the ass and I’m putting monkey back on the menu,” he growled. This caused Sanchez to chuckle and gave Brown a moment of hesitation. It was not often that your Lieutenant threatened to eat you if you screwed up.
“Don’t worry, Lieutenant,” Joey replied. “I was just saying we got your back is all.”
“I’m worried about my backside, not my back. Remember, I’ve seen you shoot, Sanchez.”
Before Sanchez could reply, the column emerged into a clearing that widened into a wide valley. Several hundred meters up the valley a thick concentration of strange plant like objects rose from a tangled bed of intertwined roots. As the expedition members gathered at the entrance to the valley, one triplet of trunks was moving slowly toward them.
“I think we’ve arrived,” Bear announced.
“Peggy Sue, are you getting this?” called Lcdr. Curtis to the ship.
“That is affirmative, Commander. Everyone on board is watching.”
The approaching triad was only about 30 meters away and had obviously been headed in their direction for quite some time, probably hours if its current pace was any indication. At its base was a tangled nest of root like tentacles, which writhed and contorted as they moved the entire creature forward at less than a quarter of a kilometer per hour.
From the half meter thick tangle of roots at its base, three ribbed columns stood upright. Even from this remove, it was clear that the columns were not shaped like cactus, they bore no spines and appeared to have a number of deep vertical ridges. From the edge of each ridge sprouted tulip shaped flowers, whose flared tips fluttered slightly in the gusting wind. The trunks appeared reddish brown fading to black at the ridges, the flowers solid black.