Authors: Steven Brockwell
However, as for Admiral Cory he was glad he had finally received orders from fleet command to stand down, he was
well, and truly relieved he knew half of his planes would not return, and was glad to call off the whole thing.
“You heard the man disengage and return to base,” Johnson instructed the rest of his squadron.
The Americana f15’s turned around heading for base, The Russian pilots were surprised, seeing the F15’s heading home, and thought the Americans had chickened out, and turned around to peruse them. Although, even they received the same message, the Russian squad leader was outraged, for if he succeeded in striking an American carrier, his name would go down in history, for being the first pilot to strike an American carrier of her size since the Second World War.
The Russian pl
anes continue to pursue the f 15’s at a distance, hoping one of them would break orders and turn to fight; only it was not happening. The Russian flight commander fired a missile across the Americans path; its target had not been locked; and the missile had neither been armed. Johnson watches as it streamed across the air. “Sir they have just fired upon us, should we engage?” asked his co pilot. “No! That is what they want us to do, “replied Johnson, and safely guided his squadron back to the safety of their aircraft carrier.
The following morning, Sonard held a press conference; the newspapers were desperate to know what had caused the Electro, magnetic pulse, which nearly started a war between the soviets and the Americans, even though both countries denied that anything took place. His statement was short; allocating that the pulse was due to a small explosion in a secret, scientific unit, which was based on the island, studying the behavior and effects of Electro, magnetic, pulses when a magnetic core erupted sending a magnetic pulse half way across Europe.
“Was
any one hurt in the explosion?” asked one of the journalists.
“No
! Certainly not,” replied Sonard
“So what exactly where you experimenting on?” asked another journalist. “I am afraid tha
t is confidential,” said Sonard
Still
, the crowd pushed Sonard even though they knew the true reason behind all of this was most probably being covered up, and that any top officials would not give them any straight answers any way.
Sonard answered question often question, turning and escaping from the real facts when one person asked him a question, which almost left him speechless.
“Sir I do believe that this magnetic pulse was caused by some extraterrestrial device, could you verify that please?”
Sonard looked at the man, he was scruffy looking, his face was unshaven, and his curly white hair could have done with a
haircut some months ago. Sonard had never seen the man before although, he had a strange feeling he knew what he was on about, and was afraid that this man might cause him to lose his cool, smooth line of corresponding
with the rest of the journalist.
The world had never experienced a pulse of this size; not man made any way
. Sonard quickly stood up and just shrugged the man off, not wanting to answer his question, afraid of what consequence he might have to face if anyone else pursed this line of questioning. Sonard had already given them quiet a good reason for all that had happened, and no real damaged had been done by the spears, magnetic sphere, That was purposely built and designed to erupted, sending a magnetic pulse to disrupt any other radio waves, or transmissions within a certain radius. As not to distort, or interfere with the signal that the spear itself had sent within the orange light, that traveled through the skies. The signal had to be as pure as ever, so it could travel a vast distance through outer space, and reach its destination as clear as possible. With the help of receptors, which Sonard and his crew had placed on their arrival to our planet, the message would travel towards a deep space probe that hovered silently, waiting for the very signal it needed to activate its complex, computerized systems, sending it into overdrive. Therefore, the probe its self could activate a sophisticated, space-warping device, which will allow it to reach its destination carrying the information it had been programmed with,
A place far from our own galaxy, a galaxy whe
re Sonard’s people lived,
Their they waited desperately for an answer, or reply from any of the deep space expedition crews that left on a mission years ago, to seek new distinctive planets for them to colonize
. They vainly scanned their own airways, for any type of signal that was now long overdue. However, now what they had been waiting for had finally started its journey across the vast distances through space.
The signal would go undetected by mans conventional means, of radar and antennas, saturlight that scanned our own airs ways, forever hoping to receive and acknowledge any extraterrestrial transmissions
. Our means and technologies were still far more primitive then Sonard’s race, which had mastered space warp and teleportation; their means of communication were far more complex than our own. (That could explain why our astronomers so far, have not managed to identify one simple clear signal, even though thousands have most probable passed through our skies.)
CHAPTER TEN
the signal
A
fter Jeramayas promotion ceremony, he spent the next few days at home with his wife Laya. Their son Luka, had the time of his life telling all his class mates what he had seen, and drew pictures of the tiny insects. All the kids in his classroom were fascinated by the funny shaped creatures, something not even they had ever seen before. It seemed luka had become the school hero just like his father. However, Jeramaya knew that in the next few days all would be forgotten and it would soon be time to go back to work, scanning the airways or moving pre-constructed parts into outer space, Hoping that maybe one day they could all leave their dying planet, and start a new life somewhere else.
The following morning Jeramaya walked into the control room, which was situated, on the planet’s surface. It was his turn to scan the airways and to intercept any signals or relay messages from one control station to another. His colleges slightly bow their heads to acknowledge his promotion, which was quite obvious due to the color of his new uniform. Depending on the grade that one would achieve, the color of their clothes changed. The lower class jobs, wore darker uniforms compared to the higher-grade jobs, Jeramaya wore a pale, Grey uniform that meant he only needed two more grades before he become one of the leading, governing members, which for his age was a great achievement.
“Good morning sir, “said Clare.
“Good morning Clare, it’s nice to hear your voice again.”
“Thank you sir, I see you have been promoted?
” said Clare.
“Yes that is correct, so you’d better be on your toes from now on
”, answered Jeramaya.
“Sir As one can see, I do not have any toes!
” Jeramaya laughs, “It’s ok Clare it is only an expression”.
Clare was their main computer that controlled their entire city, her tasks involved numerous jobs, and Jeramaya was glad to have her as his college
and his companion.
Jeramaya took up his position
in front of the everlasting control panels to begin his shift, “ok Clare tell me what developments have there been since my last shift?” asked Jeramaya.
“We have a malfunction in receivers four and five,” replied Clare.
“Evaluate systems and rectify problem”.
“The problem is coursed by the ice built up around rotary scanners, heaters not operational,” said Clare.
This was a normal occurrence
, due to the extreme weather conditions, sometimes the rotary systems that allowed the scanners to swivel around, would sometimes freeze over. Heating elements were installed along the rails, which once in awhile their terminals tended to become brittle, and would crack due to the sub zero temperature. However, this seemed impossible since they were still in the middle of summer.
“Clare
it is still summer that’s not possible,” asked Jeramaya.
“Negative sir
, Due to my calculations winter is due early this year, sir.”
Jeramaya stood up and walked ove
r towards one of his colleagues who controlled another section within the control room, it appeared the ambient temperature had drastically dropped over night. Their instruments were showing a freezing minus, seventy-five deg. This means the only way to repair the antenna, was for someone to go outside and manually repair the cracked terminals.
Jeramaya was just about to go into the changing rooms
when one of his colleges spoke up,” sir I can do the repairs!” Jeramaya laughs, “It’s ok just because I have been promoted, it doesn’t mean I am no longer capable of doing my job”.
Both of his assistants smiled, they were please to know that Jeramaya had not change a bit
. Jeramaya liked the hard Manuel work that
sometimes needed doing, it gave him a satisfaction, a feeling of accomplishment that gave him the drive to try to succeed in whatever challenge that he may have to face. Jeramaya suited up in a thermal heated suit, He would also have to wear a full helmet and carry an oxygen supply, or else the cold winds would freeze his lungs with in an instant.
Jeramaya walked over towards the double doo
r hatch, and gave the OK signal as one door closed, the outer side door opened. This prevented the freezing air from entering the control room.
Jeramaya slowly began to walk through the soft snow, which sunk down with the weight of his body; Clare kept in contact with him to assist in any way possible
The freezing winds swirled around his body as he began to climb the ladder up to the receivers. He reached the top and opened a control panel, one of the terminals had frozen over, may be an over load, or the high winds could have cracked one of the cables. He set to work almost immediately, repairing, and replacing the terminals, “ok Clare, activate the heating coils”.
“Heaters activated
, no response sir.” It seems the ice had piled up too thick for the heaters to handle. Jeramaya climbed up towards the huge dish, and took out a heat-emitting gun; he set the controls to full and fired a heat blast all the way around the railings, the ice melted almost at once. “Try again Claire.”
“I have a response, it is now fully operational, setting scanner on automatic
”, replied Clare. Jeramaya was glad it did not take too long, the high winds and freezing temperatures made it almost impossible for anyone to work properly, or stay too long outside the safety of their control room. The scanner slowly started to rotate to track any objects or signals that might pass through their planet’s solar system. Jeramaya started to climb down one of the ladders when the dish swung around nearly knocking him over. “Steady on Clare!”
“Scanners ar
e set on automatic and tracking”, replied Clare.
“What’s that suppose to mean?” asked Jeramaya.
“It means sir; I have detected incoming warp activity.” Jeramaya froze for a while; this could only mean one thing, someone, or something was returning to their planet, but who or what.
Jeramaya jumped down the ladder, and scrambled to his feet, his heart pumping hard, blood running fast through his veins, as he struggled to run towards the control room door, which was already open
. Jeramaya quickly barged through the twin doors, and sat down in front of the monitors still wearing his protective suit. “Claire can you identify the incoming object?”
“Affirmative the signal confirms it is one of ours.”
“Yes! But what is it Clare?”
“The object is traveling at an immense speed; its identification beacon is not operational sir.”
“Initiate tractor and slow the object down.”
“Tractors activated object still approaching.”
“Can you hold the object before it enters our atmosphere?”
“ Tractor’s on hold object is now stationary.”
“Can you identify?”
“Identification complete, analysis confirms it’s a Recon probe, type T 145 C.”
The whole crew could not believe what they were hearing; this type of probe was deployed with the four expedition crews, which had left almost ten years ago
. The screen projected the deep space probe that had returned from some unknown destination, bringing hope to this isolated race. “ Awaiting orders sir” ,said Clare “ Shit!” replied Jeramaya, It had been a long time since anything was transported into one of the loading bays, since most of their work consisted on moving pre constructed parts out into space, and not vice versa, the initial sequence had been forgotten.