Earth Vs. Aliens (Aliens Series 1) (2 page)

“Monique.”

She whirled his way, blue eyes flaring with anger and surprise at his use of her first name. “What!”

“Think. Please
think
before you do this.” He wiped sweat from his forehead, then shivered as the cabin air-cooling kicked on. “We don’t know
who
they are, what they look like,
where
they come from, how long they’ve monitored Earth space communications, nor
why
they didn’t just come to Charon and visit us at the base.” He paused to let the last item sink in. “Monique, why didn’t they come to Charon?”

D’Auberge took a deep breath and eyed Jack as if he were a petulant little boy caught sneaking out of the girls’ bathroom. “Mister Munroe, why don’t you feel Hercule’s excitement?” She motioned to the ship’s priest, a man who’d devoted his life to the Jesuits, comets and self-denial, in that order. “Why so suspicious? That dome may be an Alien trading station, filled with wonders. And Brussels has always said that if true Aliens ever crossed the stars to visit us, they would be peaceful. No civilization develops interstellar travel without world union and an end to violence. Surely you don’t question Abbé Breed’s Fourth Principle of the Communitarian Unity?”

Jack did question it, but he’d not gotten his berth on
Uhuru
by being heretical. “That’s not the issue. The issue is, they act like they
expected
us. Doesn’t commerce negotiation require a common set of rules among traders? Doesn’t good faith in business require advance
consultation
, rather than this bolt out of the blue?” Monique’s certainty wavered a bit. “Don’t you think we should contact Charon or Earth for guidance on this situation?”

Monique smiled sourly. “Ah, the last refuge of a bureaucrat is an appeal to procedures. Anything to avoid a decision. I am better than that. Are you, Technologist?”

She was really, really going to do it. “No, I’m not. I’m scared. This doesn’t
feel
right.”

The Captain ignored intense looks from the rest of the crew and focused on Jack. “Feel? That’s base emotion talking. Whatever happened to your wonderful Anthropology? Isn’t this First Contact the event that will set off a Kuhnian paradigm shift in human culture?” He did not respond to her challenge. She sighed. “There is an easy way to solve this concern of yours. We will signal back. And we’ll ask for them to send us a visual image. Then, I’m certain, your fears will melt away.”

Signal them back?
Jack blinked rapidly. “I wouldn’t do that, Captain.”

“But I
am
doing that, as Captain of this ship, as the adult in command.” Monique smiled pleasantly at Hortense. “ComChief, we might as well vibechat with our new neighbors while Gail brings us into a matching orbit. Open a channel, please.”

“Yes, Captain,” murmured a nervous Hortense, her long fingers flying over her companel. “Open, captain. Recorders are still running.”

“—Human ship, we ask you to—”

Monique braced herself against the maneuvering thrust-gee and faced the motion-eye above the screen. “Alien ship, we are responding. I am Captain Monique Catherine d’Auberge, of the European Union, a member state of the Communitarian Unity, outbound from our science base on Charon in the ship
Uhuru
, on a mission to chart large cometary bodies. Please explain the invitation to visit your dome on the surface below, and please transmit a visual image of yourself. We humans prefer to see those with whom we talk.”

Silence filled the radio channel as the loop recording cut off abruptly. A signal whine sounded briefly, then eased away as the com panel automatically matched the incoming radio signal. “Welcome, Captain,” said a male voice that reeked of Midlands landed gentry tones. “I am Destanu, Link of the Pod Victorius, of the people called Rizen, who came not long ago to these small frozen bodies. We request you visit our dome so we may settle on the Rules of Engagement.” The casual voice paused. “You ask for visual images? Agreed. We had withheld such images until you requested them. We transmit on your Charon Standard Channel Three.”

The front screen wavered, lost the image of QB1, then solidified into a color image. They all stared.

The six-legged Alien in the image resembled a cross between a lion and a hippopotamus, but one with red-and-black striped skin, sleek body muscles, and talon-toes. The platy hide looked tough as steel. The sextuped’s front leg pair showed manipulative fingers more flexible than a human’s, but stiffer than ropes. The front end supported a dome-skull, below which were two black eyes. The wide-set eyes peered at them without blinking. A tool belt of some kind hung from the Alien’s midbody, otherwise it wore no obvious clothes. To one side of Destanu stood another Rizen, though it stayed in the background. The room occupied by Destanu and the second Rizen resembled their own Pilot cabin, a place filled with metallic devices, blinking lights, and touch panels, with the low arch of a exit door off to the right. The Rizen commander opened wide the slash of its mouth, displaying dozens of razor-sharp teeth, teeth like a shark. A pink tongue moved in sync with its speech.

“Are you reassured, Captain Monique Catherine d’Aubege?” said a smarmy Midlands English voice that seemed totally incongruous coming from the lean, tightly-muscled Alien.

Hortense squeaked her reaction. Gail’s mouth moved silently. Max cursed low, a guttering string of Polish that didn’t sound pleasant. Hercule the Jesuit crossed himself. And Captain d’Auberge straightened her posture, slim hands pulling at her dark blue jacket. She focused on the screen image.

“I’m reassured, Link Destanu of the Pod Victorius.” She paused, stood stiffly before the motion-eye that returned her image to the Alien ship, and bowed slightly. “Welcome to Sol system. Have you been here very long?”

“Long enough,” said Destanu, its body plates rippling in a sine wave that matched the movements of its shark-like mouth. “Our custom when meeting species new to the Great Dark is to learn your language of power, study your culture, then seek a meeting at a spot outside of the species’ home space.”

“So you’ve met other lifeforms!” exclaimed Monique.

“Many others. The Great Dark is filled with life, some of which travels star to star.” The Alien glanced aside at some kind of monitor, then fixed its black-eyed gaze on Monique. “I see your ship is about to match our orbital footprint. Good. Our team awaits your team on the surface below. Do you accept our invitation to discuss Rules of Engagement?”

Jack thought the last question meant more than the obvious. The Alien acted far too relaxed. But Monique seemed unfazed by the incongruity of Brit-speech issuing from the shark-mouth of a red-and-black skinned Alien who’d come to meet humans on a deep space mission out at the very edge of the solar system.
Slick, too slick,
he thought. The ship’s maneuvering thrusters shut off and freefall replaced thrust-gee—which clued him to the fact the Rizen aliens looked glued to their floor despite no ship movement. “Captain?” he said, floating up against his restraint straps.

“One moment,” Monique said to Destanu, then gestured to cut off the visual and sound feed to the Rizen ship. She grabbed a wall hand-hold, then glared at him. “What! Can’t you see this Alien is peaceful? Not violent like your Belter Rebellion ancestors? A species that crosses from one star to another is not an automatic threat, just a puzzle to be understood.”

“A species that has
gravity
control, while we still use spin-gee for our habitat torus?” Jack shook his head, feeling stubborn. “Captain, why assume the Communitarian creed applies to Aliens? Why do you assume that evolutionary biology and natural selection don’t apply to intelligent species?” Monique’s stubborn belief in the Unity creed baffled Jack. He pointed at Hortense, their Ecological Biologist. “Hortie,
you
tell her what we discussed on the way out here? Tell her what red-and-black skin colors mean!”

The Captain glanced at Hortense. “Hortie? What’s he talking about?”

Hortense blushed at the personal question, though it would be hard for most people to notice thanks to her soot-black skin. The woman, who had seemed to enjoy their chats about sociobiology and cultural determinism, dipped her head, collected herself, then looked directly at Monique. “Captain, it’s the aposematic coloration principle of evolutionary biology. In short, extreme color variations in a species are a danger signal. Like the brightly colored poison dart frog of the Amazon Basin, which advertises to predators it is not wise to eat frogs that don’t try to hide.”

“Aposematic
what
!” Monique’s pale face slowly turned pink. “So we’re down to judging Aliens by
skin color
! Hortie, I’m surprised at you.”

Jack realized he had one more shot, if that, and sadly Hortie was not as tough-willed as her partner, Gail. “Captain, this is real stuff!” The glare in Monique’s eyes only motivated him further. “Hortie, tell her what the Alien bodyshape means? The talon-toes, teeth and body form.
Please!
”

Monique glared again at Jack, breathed deep, then looked tiredly at Hortense Muggeridge-Mbasa. “Go on. Destanu will keep for another minute or two. What has Jack been doing to you girl?”

Hortie looked briefly incensed, glanced at a sympathetic Gail, then shrugged her slim shoulders. “It’s called Müllerian mimicry, Captain. A basic principle of predation and natural selection biology. In short, the Rizen’s shark-like teeth, lean-muscled body shape, and lion/hippo shape all reinforce the signal ‘don’t mess with me’. Like how the
nomadidae
bee resembles a yellow jacket, yet both species possess stingers. Or how the hunting cats resemble one another despite continental drift. Or—”

“Enough!” hissed Monique, angry disgust replacing the irritation of moments ago. She twisted in space and shook a finger at Jack. “You would have us judge Aliens on the basis of
appearance
? Racist! We Communitarians reject the outmoded sociobiology theorizing of that crazy professor E. O. Wilson! Genes do not
control
intelligent people! And out there is the first non-Earth culture and people we’ve ever encountered. I’m not going to insult them by refusing to play along with this Engagement ritual of theirs.”

Jack gave up. It would do no good to debate Gause’s Law, the role of keystone predators in a closed ecology, and sociobiology genetics with his Captain. She seemed to be automatically fighting him, and defending the wishful thinking of her social dogma, rather than questioning the motivations of dangerous-looking Aliens. But maybe he could convince her to be a little suspicious. “Captain, just what the hell are the Rules of Engagement?”

“Exactly!” Max said a bit too loudly “Monique my dear, you’re no diplomat, nor are any of us. Let’s go home, tell the topsucks about this, and let
them
take the chances.”

Monique stiffened at the challenge to her authority and at Max’s allusion to their romantic relationship. “No! The dome and the Rizen Aliens await us. There has been no assault on our ship, no threats, nothing to warrant an unfriendly response by us. We’re going.” She free-floated around to face the motion-eye, gestured and Hortense restored the AV comlink. “Link Destanu, please pardon the interruption. We accept your invitation to meet your team in the dome. But if you don’t mind explaining, what do you mean by Rules of Engagement?”

Destanu peered at them, its unblinking black stare fixing on each crew member one by one. The toothy mouth moved swiftly. “Why, just what I said. Rules of Engagement mean the rules for how we Rizen and you Humans behave toward each other. I think you call it etiquette, or diplomacy, or some such thing.”

Monique smiled triumphantly, but kept her attention on the Alien ship captain. “That’s what I thought. Since there are four of your people down below, four of us will also journey down. Is the dome atmosphere—”

“Oxygen-nitrogen?” interrupted Destanu. “Of course. We breath the same mix as you, at nearly the same pressures. And our home world and home star are near duplicates of yours. But come in your environment suits, if that reassures you and your team.”

Gail leaned over and whispered to Monique, who nodded distractedly, then faced the motion-eye camera. “Good. Our landing craft will leave shortly. We look forward to meeting your people. D’Auberge off.” The Rizen image blanked out. The Captain twisted in mid-air, faced them, and put hands on slim hips.

“No arguments! We’re going down, the only question is who goes and who stays. Any volunteers?”

Everyone stayed frozen in their seats, except for Hercule, who raised a pudgy hand. “Me. I’ll go with you.”

Monique nodded, then eyed Jack and Max at the back of the cabin. “The ship’s Technologist and ship’s Engineer are excused from this trip, in view of their racists and archaic reactions. Gail, Hortense, Hercule and myself will leave just as soon as our can put on our EVA suits. Move, people!”

Everyone undid belt locks and free-floated out of the cabin. Jack was the last to leave, unable to resist a glance back at the screen. On it hung a globe-and-spearhead spaceship, its red, yellow and black-banded hull a striking contrast to the reddish ices and snows of QB1. His gut still jumped. His heart still raced. And fear nearly froze his joints. Would have frozen them, except for the idea that had occurred the moment he saw the Alien’s teeth, saw its body build, and decided not to believe what he heard from either Destanu or Monique. Maybe he could help the landing party, which would land unarmed, unwary, and at the mercy of the unknown. Maybe.