Authors: Unknown
“And why should I take someone opposed to interstellar exploration along on the most important voyage of exploration since Magellan?”
“You should take me because it
is
the most important voyage, Captain. You need me.”
“Begging your pardon, but I need you like I need hemorrhoids.”
“You need me because my viewpoint is different from your own, and I might add, that of just about everyone else on this expedition. You are about to embark on a voyage into the unknown. It would be shortsighted not to make sure that you have the widest possible pool of talent at your disposal.”
“Not if one of those talents is intent on disrupting the rest of the talent.”
“I would not be disruptive, Captain. I know how to fit in.”
“Frankly, sir, were it up to me, you would be headed home this afternoon. However, it is not up to me.
Coordinator Halstrom predicted that you would make the request and ordered me to take you aboard if you asked. I suppose she wants to get you out of her hair for a couple of years. Do you have any talents other than agitation?”
“I am a pretty fair cook.”
“Then that will be your assignment. Welcome aboard, Crewman. Now get the hell out of my office.”
“Aye aye, sir!”
#
Sar-Say hovered at the viewport in what had once been the passenger section of the
Hraal
, subsequently renamed the
Ruptured Whale
. For once, he was not required to strap himself into that ridiculous bunk.
The humans were taking him home!
After so many months under their control, he had thought that he understood them. Now he was not so sure. He had expected it to take years before they would be ready for an expedition into Broan space, yet here they were, preparing an entire fleet to jump to superlight velocity. He had not thought them capable of such decisiveness.
Sar-Say was philosopher enough to know that he must accept that there were some things still beyond his understanding. For instance, there was the mysterious change in the status of Captain Landon. Shortly after the briefing, it had been announced that Landon would command the
Ruptured Whale
rather than
Magellan
on the long voyage to Sky Flower. When Sar-Say asked Lisa to explain the abrupt change, she told him it was because Mikhail Vasloff would be accompanying them in the
Whale
. Since Mikhail Vasloff’s status aboard PoleStar had always been a mystery to Sar-Say, her answer did nothing to enlighten him. Nor did her comment that had ended their conversation: “I suspect the captain wants to keep an eye on the old scoundrel.”
The statement had been unsettling to Sar-Say. It implied that Captain Landon was not the expedition’s true master and that Mikhail Vasloff was, even though he had no official status as far as Sar-Say could determine. The strange thought was so counterintuitive that it nearly ruined Sar-Say’s ebullient mood.
Luckily, he would have a full Earth year in which to ponder the mysteries of human social organization.
For as difficult as it was to understand humans, understand them he must if he were to implement his own plans once they entered Civilization.
In the meantime, he would play their little games and help Lisa in her efforts to train the others to speak proper language. He would work assiduously to gain their trust, even to the point of seeming to work against his own interests. For if they did not trust him by the time they found one of the outlying systems, all of his well-laid plans would come to naught.
Sar-Say contemplated the interesting universe into which he had fallen while he watched the beacons of the various starships in the fleet. A dozen ships had departed Neptune ten hours earlier and were accelerating in formation. They had finally crossed the invisible line that marked the point where it was safe to use stardrives, and they were even now preparing to jump.
As he watched, one of the distant beacons winked out. One moment the ship was solid and real, the next it vanished without a trace. A few minutes later, another ship performed the same disappearing trick, and then, a third. One by one, the beacons winked out of the sky in front of him.
The sight was mesmerizing. His excitement grew with each departure. He was literally quivering when a raucous alarm sounded aboard the
Ruptured Whale
. The alarm cut off, and Dan Landon’s voice issued from the annunciator. “All Hands. Stand by for superlight in five … four … three … two … one!”
The throb of the engines changed pitch subtly, and suddenly, there were no stars outside the viewport.
Beyond the ship, there was only stygian blackness.
The journey home had begun!
Nadine Halstrom stood at her office window and looked down on the cityscape below. Snow had come early to Toronto this year and a light dusting of white reflected the city lights to her in her glassed-in aerie.
The covering of new snow made the scene idyllic and peaceful, not the least because the storm had put out the stubborn fires that still raged here and there in the city.
It had been two weeks since she had gone on the full infonet and announced that humankind was no longer alone in the universe. She had worked hard on her speech and she thought it one of the best she had ever given. It certainly should have been. The psychologists massaged it thoroughly, fine-tuning every phrase until the words struck just the right balance of caution and concern, confidence and competency.
She had begun with a straight recitation of the facts of first contact in the New Eden system. She explained in matter-of-fact phrases that one of their scouts had been destroyed in the encounter, but emphasized that
Magellan
had taken its revenge only minutes later. She recounted how the brave men and women of the Stellar Survey boarded the remaining alien ship and discovered its sole survivor.
At that point, Nadine Halstrom’s features had faded out of the picture, to be replaced by views of Sar-Say in captivity. The images had been carefully chosen to highlight the pseudo-simian’s faintly comic look. Following what she referred to as “our short nature film,” the camera had again focused on the World Coordinator, and she delivered the bad news in her most restrained, concerned style. She told the viewing masses about Sar-Say’s revelation of the Broan Sovereignty. She gave them the bare facts without embellishment, and then, emphasized that none of the allegations were yet proven. She offered the alternative explanation that Sar-Say might be spinning tall tales.
After a dramatic pause in which the camera zoomed in for a close-up, she gazed earnestly into the lens and said, “Fellow citizens of Sol. This alien claims that somewhere beyond our little bubble of known space lies a large interstellar empire, an empire that may not be sympathetic to our aspirations. Our scientists have studied all available evidence and report that they are, as yet, unable to conclusively and independently verify what Sar-Say has told us. For this reason, I decided that our best course was to seek the truth for ourselves. That effort is now underway.
“Two weeks ago, we launched an expedition to the vicinity of The Crab Nebula, some 7000 light-years from here. There they will seek out this so-called Broan Sovereignty in order to learn the truth of things?
”
Her tone had turned soothing. She discussed in general terms the precautions that would be taken to prevent the Broa from learning of the existence of either the human race or its home world. Her words were designed to inspire confidence and to downplay the dangers. She ended her speech with, “You may rest assured that our people aboard the starships will learn the truth and bring it back to us.
However, we must all have patience. It is 7000 light-years to the Crab Nebula, and 7000 light-years back. To put it in terms we can all understand, the light we see today from that nebula began its journey before the first pyramid was erected. It takes time to cross that much space and more time for the return voyage. We should hear something from our expedition in approximately 30 months.
“I know each of you will join me in praying for the success of our brave men and women on this, the longest journey ever undertaken by our species. They will remain in our thoughts and in our prayers until they return safely home to Mother Earth. That is all I have to share with you this evening. Good night, and May God bless the Human Race!”
There had followed a full week of calm. It seemed that the speech had worked its magic better than expected. However, the calm had proven illusory. Nadine Halstrom blamed herself for not noticing the danger signals. She rationalized her failure with the fact that, following her speech, she had been forced to meet with virtually every faction in Parliament. Still, as her conscience insisted on reminding her, that was no excuse.
The meetings had filled her day from sunrise to midnight, and they had all had the same script. The Honorable Member from East Podunk would arrive, begin by demanding to know why he or she had not been let in on the secret, and then launch into a twenty-minute oration on the defects of the Coordinator and her administration. About halfway through the diatribe, her visitors would assure her that keeping the news from the public had been smart politics, and even their fellow MPs had no “need to know.”
However, not telling the Honorable Member had been inexcusable, and if she thought it had not, wait until the next yearly appropriations bill was before the Honorable Member’s committee!
While Nadine Halstrom suffered through a parade of self-important legislators, the various media outlets were filled with news of the aliens. There were learned debates as to whether any species could possibly control a million stars. There were emotional arguments regarding the advisability of sending humanity’s small fleet of starships to investigate. There were religious inquiries as to where aliens might fit in God’s grand scheme of things. But most importantly, below the level of public discourse, were the quiet conversations held in bars and homes; frightened whisperings between two or three individuals in which the participants tried to reconcile their worldviews with a million-star alien empire. The more people struggled with the concept, the more frightened they became.
There had been opposition, of course; but it had seemed surprisingly light. One opposition group, in particular, was conspicuous by their silence.
Terra Nostra
, after a brief news release stating that their founder was en route to The Crab Nebula with the expedition, and that he would look after humankind’s interests, had said nothing. However, lack of public pronouncements did not mean that Mikhail Vasloff’s vassals were idle. They worked tirelessly behind the scenes to organize a movement with the ultimate goal of recalling the starships as quickly as a follow-on expedition could be organized.
Seven days after Nadine Halstrom’s speech, the building tensions reached a breaking point. The dormant volcano of public opinion was ready to erupt. All that was needed was a triggering event. That event occurred on the evening of October 6 in front of the New York Metropolitan Administrative Complex.
It was a Friday and the streets of Manhattan were crowded with people. In addition to the normal crowds to be found in the “city that never sleeps” on a Friday evening, there were several demonstrations in progress. The fact that people were not sure what to demonstrate for or against did not help their mood. However, the crowd was orderly, as it had been the previous three evenings. Police were out in force, but did not expect trouble.
All of this changed abruptly at 20:16 hours when a cab driver made an illegal lane change on the elevated thruway that cut across one corner of Administration Plaza. The taxi driver, late for shift change, sped around the curve and ducked into the inside lane to make the off ramp for the New Holland Tunnel.
Halfway through the turn, his left front wheel smashed into another vehicle and he was tossed high in the air, clearing the traffic barrier and crashing down into the milling crowd below.
Four people were killed outright and three others survived long enough for their screams to be heard throughout the crowded plaza. A full dozen were injured sufficiently to require hospitalization. The screams of the dying and the wounded proved too much for those whose nerves had been stretched taut by news of the aliens. Those close to the wreckage took out their anger on the hapless driver, who had survived the ten-meter plunge into the crowd, only to be pulled from his wrecked vehicle and beat senseless by the mob. Those beyond fist range turned their rage against the symbols of authority. Several police were beaten. Violence spread like fire in a pure oxygen atmosphere and within an hour, the whole of the municipal complex had been set ablaze.
News of the rioting flashed instantly around the planet. The direct cause somehow became lost in the reporting as breathless newsers left the impression that the riot was in response to the alien crisis.
Disorders proliferated with the speed of communication. In virtually every major city, crowds that had gathered to seek solace from their governments suddenly turned on their leaders. The disorders began with smashed windows and quickly escalated to looting and arson.
The rioting had gone on for four days and cost more than a thousand people their lives. Ships in orbit reported that they could plot their progress through the night sky by the light of burning cities. Eventually, the irrationality of the violence seeped into peoples’ brains, or else they just grew tired. Slowly, the police began to regain control. The rampaging crowds thinned until they were composed primarily of looters.
Eventually, even the looters seemed to lose interest and it was finally over.
Nadine Halstrom looked out the window into the cold winter night and shivered at the memory of the long nights of rioting. Whenever humankind began to believe that the ancient beast of mob rule had been tamed, there was always something to remind them that they were no more civilized than their caveman ancestors, only more insulated from the realities of life. She wondered how many more such disorders her career could withstand. Already, most of Parliament was angry with her. A few more riots and she would find herself signing onto the database at the unemployment office.