The Mothership (9 page)

“Political?” She furrowed her brow. “You
think aliens want to rig our elections?”

“No, they don’t care how we govern
ourselves. There are no good or bad political systems in space. Political
structures will be as diverse as the civilizations that create them, based on
the psychology of each species. What I’m talking about is like international
relations. We’re not dealing with cute cuddly little ETs who want to lavish
love and affection on us, nor are we likely to face crazed invaders from outer
space who want to incinerate our cities for no good reason. One is sentimental
nonsense, the other is paranoid fear. The reality is much less dramatic.
They’re neither friendly nor hostile, but they will have one thing in common
with us.”

“They’ll watch cable TV and eat take out?”

“They’ll have
interests
, and they’ll
act in their own best interest. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t have made it as
far as they have. It’s great power politics. Unfortunately for mankind, we’re
not now, and never will be a great power.”

“Never is a long time, Mr Markus.”

“How do you catch up a million years? If we
advance a million years, so do they. We’re like a primitive tribe of
Neanderthals compared to Western Civilization.”

“Tough break for the Neanderthals.”

“Not so tough. The Local Powers clearly
have no desire to rule Earth, or they would already. They just keep an eye on
us, so they know what we’re doing.”

“So in your great power scenario, where
does this ship fit in?”

The intelligence officer looked worried.
“It doesn’t. In fact, if the Local Powers are still in control, it should never
have landed. It breaks the pattern of hundreds of thousands of years of
peaceful isolation.”

“So you think it’s an attack?”

“Not without proof,” Markus replied
cautiously. “Launching an attack on us could be disastrous for them.”

Xeno furrowed her brow. “Now I’m confused.
If they’re superpowers and we’re Neanderthals, how can attacking us be a
disaster for them?”

“Because it’s a multipolar political system
out there. Lots of civilizations at different levels of advancement, all
looking after their own interests. A hostile power would drive peaceful
civilizations into alliance against it, which will eventually result in the
hostile civilization being crushed by weight of numbers and superior
technology.”

“Like Nazi Germany.”

“Exactly. There are no Nazi Germanies in
space. None living anyway.”

“But would attacking Earth cause an
alliance? We don’t know anyone, we have no friends.”

“We don’t know them, but they’ve spent
millennia getting to know us. Thousands of civilizations must know we exist,
and have us catalogued in their libraries. We’re an oddity, savage by their
standards, but with as much right to exist on our homeworld as anyone else.
Attacking us would attract great powers who might consider their interests are
next, or who might simply feel a moral responsibility to protect helpless
primitives like us. In a multipolar system, it doesn’t make sense for anyone to
attack us.”

“So why are you here?”

“In case I’m wrong.”

* * * *

“Contact.”
Cougar’s voice sounded calmly from their ear pieces. “Two o’clock.”

The troops immediately dropped flat to the
ground, bringing their weapons to bear as they strained to see what Cougar had
spotted. Only Dr McInness remained standing, staring curiously ahead.

“It’s a metallic silver vehicle, highly
reflective, no sound,” Cougar reported as he peered through his telescopic
sight. “Can’t make out its size or shape.”

Beckman dragged Dr McInness to the ground
with a glare. “Stay here. Keep your head down.”

“We should approach without weapons,” the
scientist said. “We must try to make peaceful contact.”

“I’ll give them every opportunity,” Beckman
said, then started creeping towards Cougar’s position.

Off to the right, Vamp produced a small
spherical device from one of the pouches on her equipment belt. It was meant
for a hand slightly smaller than hers, and while its power source was unknown,
experiments had proven it was amazingly accurate at detecting refined metals
out to three clicks. She touched the activation surface, then scaled the range
down to the lowest setting. The device’s dull metal surface changed from silver
to light blue. Twelve black pin points representing the contact team appeared
near a much larger black dot representing the object Cougar had spotted. Small
angular symbols appeared on the screen beside each dot. Xeno had taught Vamp
the meaning of some of the symbols, representing range, velocity and heading,
but there were other symbols whose meanings were unknown. They called it the
crystal ball, even though it wasn’t crystal. It was the size of a baseball with
the top third cut away, revealing a flat viewing surface. A woman had been
selected to operate it because her smaller hands were more suited to its
controls than a man’s.

“I’m picking up a large object,” Vamp
reported, “Fifty meters ahead.”

Nuke fell back to the rear to join Hooper.
If the force was wiped out, they would try to report back. Xeno followed
Beckman, in case she was needed to translate, while Markus crept forward alone
for a closer look. Tucker and Steamer took up positions in the center of the
team, five meters apart, where they could provide heavy weapons fire support,
if required.

“Movement?” Beckman asked.

“None,” Vamp replied in a low voice.

“Confirmed,” Cougar added, watching the
craft through his sniper rifle’s telescopic sight. It was partially obscured by
trees, underbrush and a small rock outcrop rising out of the red earth. “It’s
just sitting there.” He twisted his rifle’s Leupold scope to full
magnification. “It’s got smooth metal skin, no joins or edges. Looks like one
piece–” He stopped abruptly and slowly swept his rifle left and right,
searching.

Beckman crouched down at Cougar’s sudden
silence. “Cougar?”

“It disappeared. One second it was there,
next it was gone.”

“It might have detected us, and gone
invisible,” Xeno suggested.

Vamp scaled the range on the crystal ball
out to maximum. “I got nothing.”

“Excuse me,” Dr McInness called, standing
up and walking forward, waving his hand to attract Beckman’s attention,
oblivious to any danger. “It’s not invisible.”

“Get down,” Beckman ordered, “The area is
not clear.”

“Yes it is! See?” He waved his arms up in
the air, offering himself as a target. “Here I am! Over here!” After a moment,
he stopped, arms out. “See? No danger.”

Hooper cursed to himself, jumped to his
feet and ran forward crouched below the level of the foliage toward the
scientist. Before Dr McInness could call out again, Hooper tackled him to the
ground, wrapping a hand over his mouth, preventing him from speaking. Dr
McInness struggled vainly against Hooper’s overpowering strength, indignant and
astonished at being forced to the ground.

Cougar studied the area where the craft had
been, finding no sign of the blurring effect they’d been trained to detect. “No
stealth field. Looks clear.”

Markus crept forward through the underbrush
to the right of Beckman’s position. He halted when the clearing was in plain
view. “They’re right, it’s gone.”

Beckman saw Markus studying the area
through his binoculars, irritated that he too disobeyed orders.
Can’t trust
either of them!
“Stand down,” he said as he headed back to where Hooper
restrained the scientist. When Hooper saw Beckman approach, he released Dr
McInness, who rolled clear then turned to face the sergeant.

“What are you doing?” The scientist
demanded angrily as he stood up brushing dirt and leaves from his clothes.

Hooper ignored him, giving Beckman a pained
look. “I took my eyes off him for a few seconds…”

Beckman gave Hooper an understanding nod,
then turned his attention on the scientist. “What do you not understand about
staying in cover until the area is clear?”

“But Major, it was clear. That’s what I was
trying to tell you. There was nothing there!”

“You gave away our position. Next time, you
hear ‘contact’, your face better be in the dirt. You weren’t sent on this
mission to get killed for being a fool. Or worse, get us killed!”

“That’s a relief, Major, because I don’t
wish to die, but it was obvious what happened.”

“Was it?”

“It flew away when it detected our
approach.”

“It didn’t take off,” Beckman said. “I was
watching. It just disappeared.”

“No!” the scientist insisted. “It took off
so fast you couldn’t see it leave with the naked eye. If we’d had a high-speed
camera filming it, then played the film back in slow motion, you’d see it take
off. Their vehicles obey the laws of physics, just like ours do, but in a much
more advanced way.”

“It could have activated a stealth field,”
Beckman said.

“Yes, but it didn’t. We’d already seen it.”
Dr McInness motioned toward Beckman’s troops. “Your men are heavily armed,
Major. Your weapons aren’t as advanced as theirs, but you can still hurt them.
That’s why they left.”

Beckman looked exasperated. “If you disobey
my orders again, I’ll tie you to a tree myself, and pick you up on the way
out.”

Dr McInness eyes widened in surprise. “You
wouldn’t do that!”

“Try me.”

“Major,” Cougar’s voice sounded over the
radio. “I’ve got something.”

Beckman saw Cougar was in bright sunlight
in the clearing where the craft had been. Markus was already prowling around
there, eyes scouring the ground.

Beckman thumbed his mike, “On my way.”

“Ah, Major?” Dr McInness said uncertainly.
When Beckman gave him a curious looked, he added, “May I come too?”

Beckman sighed, and nodded. “OK. Whatever
happened, they’re gone now,” He said, then hurried to Cougar’s position, with
Dr McInness scurrying to keep up while the rest of the team stayed under cover.
When he stepped into the clearing, he discovered the trees and plants had been
knocked down in a clockwise pattern, crushed by a powerful rotating force.

Dr McInness studied the pattern without
surprise. The plants had been pushed into the ground, without damage to their
fibers, which contact with a physical object would have caused. “This effect’s
consistent with field propulsion technology.”

Markus knelt and examined a twenty
centimeter square indentation in the ground. He’d quartered the ground and
found three such marks. “It was eight hundred to a thousand tons. Twenty-five
to thirty meters across.”

Beckman gave him a surprised look. “You can
tell that, just by looking at that hole in the ground?”

“We’ve done a lot of analysis on landing
sites,” Markus said. “We’d need to study the exact depth of the indentations
and soil composition to work out a more accurate figure.”

Cougar waited patiently at the center of
the clearing. He stood beside a smoothly bored circular shaft ten centimeters
across. Its sides were fused, although there was no evidence of heat having
been applied.

Beckman turned to Dr McInness. “Do you know
what this is?”

The scientist peered into the borehole
curiously. “No, I’ve never heard of them conducting this kind of experiment
before.”

“Markus?” Beckman asked.

The intelligence agent shook his head.
“Beats me.”

Beckman produced a flare, glanced at his
watch, then dropped it in. The flare lit up the walls as it fell, occasionally
glancing off the sides.

“Thirty seconds,” Beckman announced as the
flare had reduced to a pinpoint of light.

Cougar aimed his telescopic sight into the
borehole. “Can’t tell if it’s hit bottom or not.”

A moment later, the flare died.

“I need to take some readings,” Dr McInness
said kneeling and gently probing the fused soil around the borehole entrance.
“It won’t take more than a few hours.”

“We don’t have time,” Beckman said,
motioning for Cougar to take point. The sniper turned and jogged off into the
trees.

“This site could have significant
scientific value,” Dr McInness protested.

“More value than a crashed mothership?”
Beckman asked. The scientist opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again
without arguing. “Just give me your best guess.”

Dr McInness stared into the borehole
thoughtfully. “I’d say they’re collecting soil samples, which proves this is a
scientific expedition.”

“Or they’re looking for a place to drop a
planet-busting bomb,” Markus said dryly.

“Major,” Cougar’s voice sounded in
Beckman’s earpiece.

Beckman clicked on his mike. “Yeah?”

“There’s a track, if you can call it that,
thirty meters west of your position.”