Fifth Contact – IV
Ryan, Mars
Wednesday
It was not a normal day for the settlement of Ryan on Mars; it was a very unusual day for two reasons. First, it was celebrating the first birth of a baby born on Mars and secondly and more importantly it was the day when an unknown spaceship appeared in orbit.
It was a small ship and appeared in areostationary orbit above Ryan.
And it did just appear. It had not approached from the outer solar system, it just appeared from nowhere, above the sole human settlement.
Alan Lewis, base commander stared at the screen.
“I assume it is real,” he said. “And someone is not playing a joke, because if they are, they are going out of the airlock without a survival suit.”
“No sir, it really is up there.”
“And where did it come from?”
“We’re not really sure, it was just there. At first we thought it was a fault in the equipment and then we thought, perhaps some asteroid, but we got the telescopes to have a look.”
Was he cursed to get awkward commands? He had struggled to get this posting and despite the board of enquiry reaching the conclusion that neither he nor any of his colleagues were responsible for the fuck-up at Hades, public opinion had never really forgiven any of the nine remaining expedition members.
And it had to be said that the board of enquiry reached their conclusion based on the fact that nobody had the faintest idea what had happened.
Alan stared at the tiny image on the screen. What do you do when you’re the leader of a settlement of a hundred or so people, the only people on a planet and something unknown appears in orbit? There wasn’t much anyone could do.
“We’re not due the Gagarin for another few days are we? And they haven’t got the Aldrin operational yet have they?”
The Aldrin was supposed to have been functioning a year past. But in-fighting and spiralling costs had delayed it, so it was always going to be operational within the coming four to six months.
“No, it’s there and it is not one of ours.”
“The Russians or the Chinese haven’t been up to anything secret and are now showing off.”
“Not as far as we know,” Svitlana replied. “Nor have the Americans.”
He shouldn’t have said that in front of a Russian.
“It’s descending,” someone said. “It’s changed its course and it is descending towards us.”
“Another fifteen minutes before Earth know about this,” another voice said.
“Free fall?” Alan asked.
“No, it is a controlled descent.”
Alan just stared at the screen; there was nothing they could do. It didn’t look very dangerous, but then if it was alien, who could tell? And it was not as if there were any defences that could be used by Ryan to defend itself. And if they did have them, would he start an interplanetary war? He did have the only gun on the planet, locked in a safe. He didn’t think that it would be much use in this situation.
“Get everyone non-essential to the flare shelters,” he ordered. “Everyone else into environmental suits.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I am going out to meet them. I only hope they are friendly.”
First contact, or perhaps second, depending on how you viewed the incident on Hades, and how it all turned out depended upon what he did in the next fifteen minutes.
And if he messed this up and Earth was destroyed, then it would be his fault. Mind you, on the bright side, there wouldn’t be a board of enquiry. Or if Earth was accepted into some greater Galactic civilisation, then he might be honoured. He hoped for the latter but feared for the former.
Or perhaps someone on Earth had developed some new technology and was wanting to show it off. That’s what it must be; some nerds in a physics department had created a new space drive, then they had built a spaceship and were now piloting it down to the surface of Mars.
He struggled into his suit and after the airlock had cycled he stepped out onto the Martian landscape. He watched as the possibly alien spaceship descended and touched down a couple of hundred metres away. And the landing was impressive, no dust was disturbed, it was all done without rockets, all the time people were shouting advice into his ears or asking questions.
“Any sign of the occupants?”
“Don’t forget to say something significant. This may go down in history.”
“Can you tell anything about the aliens from its design?”
As if they had any better idea on what to do than he did.
There was writing on the side in several different scripts and bizarrely one looked like it might be in Roman letters. MACHA3. What the hell did that mean?
“Can you get me a database search on Mike, Alpha, Charlie, Hotel, Alpha, Three?” he said into his radio.
Five minutes, maybe less and Earth would know what was happening, and then another quarter of an hour and they could offer useless advice. And by then everything would have progressed and would by out-of-date by half an hour.
A door opened, well more like a section of the spaceship slid away.
“Are you getting this?” Alan asked. The camera in his helmet was transmitting everything to Ryan.
“Crystal clear.”
And then a single figure stepped out of the spaceship and jumped onto the surface of Mars. It was human shaped and sized, and wearing a spacesuit that was black and didn’t look as if it would protect its wearer much from the lack of Martian atmosphere.
So it was a human craft. He wondered which group were responsible for it.
Then Alan realised that the figure wasn’t human, the limbs were the wrong proportion and the head was the wrong shape.
The figure walked towards him in a non-human way.
“It looks almost human,” Alan said.
“Greetings,” a female voice said in English into his earpiece. Bizarrely it had an Irish accent. “Connor sends his regards.”
“Connor?”
“Yes, Connor Ryan. He sends his regards.”
“You’ve met Connor?”
“He has been living amongst us for the last five years.”
“Fuck,” Alan shouted, then he realised that history would remember him as the man who had sworn during first contact. “Where is Connor? Is he on the ship?”
“He is on Earth?”
“What’s he doing on Earth?”
“Trying to make peaceful contact with your governments. If we hadn’t heard from him, after three days, he said for us to visit Mars.”
“Why Mars?”
“Because there would be no accidental shootings. Connor thought it unlikely but best to take precautions.”
“Why does he want …”
“Can I come in or do you want to come onto my ship?”
Alan didn’t reply for a few moments. He was stuck for words. “Yes, perhaps you should come into Ryan.”
“Ryan? As in Connor Ryan?”
“Yes, as in Connor Ryan.”
“And what is your name?” the alien asked.
“My name is Alan Lewis.”
“What, the same Alan Lewis who was leader of the Gagarin mission to Hades?”
Shit, this alien really knew Connor Ryan, the man who had disappeared on the ill-fated mission beyond Neptune’s orbit five years previously, the man who gave his name to the sole town on Mars (chosen by popular demand) and the man who the first baby born on Mars had been named after, despite having Indian parents.
And the man who Alan Lewis blamed for turning his what until then had been very successful career on its head.
This alien knew who Connor Ryan was.
“Well when Connor gets back from Earth, he and you will have to catch up on old times. Am I allowed into your settlement?”
“Of course, where are my manners? If you would follow me. Do you have a name?”
“Connor called me Kawip, because he couldn’t pronounce my real name.”
It was a small ship and appeared in areostationary orbit above Ryan.
And it did just appear. It had not approached from the outer solar system, it just appeared from nowhere, above the sole human settlement.
Alan Lewis, base commander stared at the screen.
“I assume it is real,” he said. “And someone is not playing a joke, because if they are, they are going out of the airlock without a survival suit.”
“No sir, it really is up there.”
“And where did it come from?”
“We’re not really sure, it was just there. At first we thought it was a fault in the equipment and then we thought, perhaps some asteroid, but we got the telescopes to have a look.”
Was he cursed to get awkward commands? He had struggled to get this posting and despite the board of enquiry reaching the conclusion that neither he nor any of his colleagues were responsible for the fuck-up at Hades, public opinion had never really forgiven any of the nine remaining expedition members.
And it had to be said that the board of enquiry reached their conclusion based on the fact that nobody had the faintest idea what had happened.
Alan stared at the tiny image on the screen. What do you do when you’re the leader of a settlement of a hundred or so people, the only people on a planet and something unknown appears in orbit? There wasn’t much anyone could do.
“We’re not due the Gagarin for another few days are we? And they haven’t got the Aldrin operational yet have they?”
The Aldrin was supposed to have been functioning a year past. But in-fighting and spiralling costs had delayed it, so it was always going to be operational within the coming four to six months.
“No, it’s there and it is not one of ours.”
“The Russians or the Chinese haven’t been up to anything secret and are now showing off.”
“Not as far as we know,” Svitlana replied. “Nor have the Americans.”
He shouldn’t have said that in front of a Russian.
“It’s descending,” someone said. “It’s changed its course and it is descending towards us.”
“Another fifteen minutes before Earth know about this,” another voice said.
“Free fall?” Alan asked.
“No, it is a controlled descent.”
Alan just stared at the screen; there was nothing they could do. It didn’t look very dangerous, but then if it was alien, who could tell? And it was not as if there were any defences that could be used by Ryan to defend itself. And if they did have them, would he start an interplanetary war? He did have the only gun on the planet, locked in a safe. He didn’t think that it would be much use in this situation.
“Get everyone non-essential to the flare shelters,” he ordered. “Everyone else into environmental suits.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I am going out to meet them. I only hope they are friendly.”
First contact, or perhaps second, depending on how you viewed the incident on Hades, and how it all turned out depended upon what he did in the next fifteen minutes.
And if he messed this up and Earth was destroyed, then it would be his fault. Mind you, on the bright side, there wouldn’t be a board of enquiry. Or if Earth was accepted into some greater Galactic civilisation, then he might be honoured. He hoped for the latter but feared for the former.
Or perhaps someone on Earth had developed some new technology and was wanting to show it off. That’s what it must be; some nerds in a physics department had created a new space drive, then they had built a spaceship and were now piloting it down to the surface of Mars.
He struggled into his suit and after the airlock had cycled he stepped out onto the Martian landscape. He watched as the possibly alien spaceship descended and touched down a couple of hundred metres away. And the landing was impressive, no dust was disturbed, it was all done without rockets, all the time people were shouting advice into his ears or asking questions.
“Any sign of the occupants?”
“Don’t forget to say something significant. This may go down in history.”
“Can you tell anything about the aliens from its design?”
As if they had any better idea on what to do than he did.
There was writing on the side in several different scripts and bizarrely one looked like it might be in Roman letters. MACHA3. What the hell did that mean?
“Can you get me a database search on Mike, Alpha, Charlie, Hotel, Alpha, Three?” he said into his radio.
Five minutes, maybe less and Earth would know what was happening, and then another quarter of an hour and they could offer useless advice. And by then everything would have progressed and would by out-of-date by half an hour.
A door opened, well more like a section of the spaceship slid away.
“Are you getting this?” Alan asked. The camera in his helmet was transmitting everything to Ryan.
“Crystal clear.”
And then a single figure stepped out of the spaceship and jumped onto the surface of Mars. It was human shaped and sized, and wearing a spacesuit that was black and didn’t look as if it would protect its wearer much from the lack of Martian atmosphere.
So it was a human craft. He wondered which group were responsible for it.
Then Alan realised that the figure wasn’t human, the limbs were the wrong proportion and the head was the wrong shape.
The figure walked towards him in a non-human way.
“It looks almost human,” Alan said.
“Greetings,” a female voice said in English into his earpiece. Bizarrely it had an Irish accent. “Connor sends his regards.”
“Connor?”
“Yes, Connor Ryan. He sends his regards.”
“You’ve met Connor?”
“He has been living amongst us for the last five years.”
“Fuck,” Alan shouted, then he realised that history would remember him as the man who had sworn during first contact. “Where is Connor? Is he on the ship?”
“He is on Earth?”
“What’s he doing on Earth?”
“Trying to make peaceful contact with your governments. If we hadn’t heard from him, after three days, he said for us to visit Mars.”
“Why Mars?”
“Because there would be no accidental shootings. Connor thought it unlikely but best to take precautions.”
“Why does he want …”
“Can I come in or do you want to come onto my ship?”
Alan didn’t reply for a few moments. He was stuck for words. “Yes, perhaps you should come into Ryan.”
“Ryan? As in Connor Ryan?”
“Yes, as in Connor Ryan.”
“And what is your name?” the alien asked.
“My name is Alan Lewis.”
“What, the same Alan Lewis who was leader of the Gagarin mission to Hades?”
Shit, this alien really knew Connor Ryan, the man who had disappeared on the ill-fated mission beyond Neptune’s orbit five years previously, the man who gave his name to the sole town on Mars (chosen by popular demand) and the man who the first baby born on Mars had been named after, despite having Indian parents.
And the man who Alan Lewis blamed for turning his what until then had been very successful career on its head.
This alien knew who Connor Ryan was.
“Well when Connor gets back from Earth, he and you will have to catch up on old times. Am I allowed into your settlement?”
“Of course, where are my manners? If you would follow me. Do you have a name?”
“Connor called me Kawip, because he couldn’t pronounce my real name.”