First Contact – I
Six Years Earlier
Two people were in the control room of Australia’s National Space Agency when the International Infrared Space Telescope flagged up an anomalous signal.
“Whoa, what’s that?” the first one asked.
“There’s a series of signals … The IIR has picked something up.”
“From where?” she asked.
The second person pushed his chair off from the console he was sitting in and glided along the floor to the IIR telescope’s console. “Something in Leo and it’s regular flashes.”
“It’ll be something in Earth orbit.”
“Apparently it’s something further away … It’s stopped.”
“Ah, it will be nothing then. We do have recordings?”
The IIR anomaly as it was called, got a few mentions in national media. At first technical errors were blamed, but no error was found with either the hardware or the software.
Then, when exactly two months later the same series of flashes were detected by the E-ELT in Chile, again in Leo, but slightly to the north, a search was begun in earnest.
After the third set of flashes, several telescopes, both professional and amateur were pointed at the where the object was predicted to be. And there was nothing there. Only when time was booked on one of the powerful space telescopes positioned at the moon’s L2 point was an object detected. It was in a solar orbit, showed no discernible disc and was therefore asteroid sized, and every so often it would send a series of powerful infrared pulses towards the Earth.
And they seemed to be directed towards the Earth. It was then when the non-scientific media started showing an interest.
The more sensational press started alien stories. Was the Earth going to be invaded? Or were the aliens going to make peaceful contact? Serious scientists pointed out that when neutron stars were first discovered, aliens had been speculated as the source, but the truth was that the objects were natural. This would turn out the same way. Nevertheless, whatever the thing was, an expedition was needed to visit it and determine what the hell it was.
The object was given several names. The original designation was its usual catalogue number, then there was the forgettable list of numbers giving it its minor planet designation. The object was unique enough to get a proper name and so the debate began in earnest as to what to call it. To remain loyal to the rules that objects beyond the orbit of Neptune should have a name from one of the underworld gods from various mythologies the name Hades was eventually chosen, as something this unusual was going to have a Greek name.
Of course an unmanned robotic craft could have been sent, but on this occasion the feeling was that a manned expedition might be more fruitful as there would be lots of science to be done. And so, it was decided that the first manned expedition beyond the orbit of Saturn should have one and only one objective, that of Hades.
No sooner had the decision been made, than the arguments started. The Gagarin craft, was commandeered, an easy decision to make as it was the only craft capable of reaching the object within a reasonable timescale.
The Gagarin was designed to have a crew of ten and so the five largest contributors to the ISC, each reserved two places for their nationals, much to the annoyance of India, Australia, the South American Union and the Southern African Association.
The four nation states of the US, Republic of China, Japan and Russia easily selected their crewmembers, but Europe which itself was a Union of nation states, then had the usual arguments as to which countries should be represented. Those countries such as Germany, France, Italy and the UK, which contributed the most, wanted their nationals to take part. The smaller nations asked why they didn’t get a chance. So as a compromise, it was decided to use a weighted lottery, weighted in that a country that contributed 20% of the budget (say Germany) had a 20% chance of winning, et cetera. Everyone expected the two candidates to be selected from the big four.
Connor was in Ireland’s small National Space Agency in Cork, in the small building that served as its headquarters, as he watched the broadcast of the draw live from Zurich. It was a strange way to select the crewmembers of the first manned expedition beyond the orbit of Saturn.
He watched as the first place on the expedition was awarded to Spain with a contribution of 4.5%.
♪ Oh this year, I’m off to sunny Space …♫ someone started to sing.
“Shut up,” Derek shouted.
♪ Y viva … espacia. ♫
“Why are you bothered about this? It’s not as if we’re getting to go.”
♪ I’m catching the … nananana plane. ♫
“Are you not interested in what the hell that object up there is?”
♪ Y viva … espacia. ♫
“Are you saying it is aliens?”
♪ If you want to kiss an alien, in some cool … asteroid. ♫
“No that is not what I am saying. I am saying that it is unusual and I would like to know what it is.”
“You want to make sure she’s not suffering from asteroids first.”
♪ Espacia por favor. ♫
Second draw now. Connor was trying to ignore the 20th Century pop song and the rehashed discussions, but was only half-watching when the TV display announced “Ireland, La deuxième place revient à l'Irlande.”
“Did they say, Ireland or Iceland? It was Ireland wasn’t it?”
“It was us you deaf bastard.”
“Where the feck are we going to get an astronaut from?”
“Do we even contribute?”
“Of course we do. Who do you think pays for your salary. 0.6% of the total contribution if you must know, if you’d been following the pre-match draw analysis …”
“We’ll just have to let the third place winner get the slot.”
And in one of those moments of synchronicity, the TV announced, “And the third place, in case either of the two applicants cannot find a suitable candidate goes to …”
“Why are they switching languages again?”
“It’s some Swiss thing.”
“But they don’t speak English in Switzerland.”
“… to England.”
“Well we’re not going to let an Englishman take our place.”
“Who’s fourth?”
Suddenly all the uninterest and disinterest turned into interest, as the room watched the draw of the fourth nation, the country that would get a place, if two of the top three couldn’t fill their slot.
“It’s Germany.”
“Only slightly better. We’ll give it to them.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Eh?”
“If Ireland doesn’t have an astronaut then the place automatically goes to England, we don’t get to choose.”
“Feck that. Who fancies going into space.”
“I do,” Connor replied, almost surprising himself.
“Can you speak Russian?”
“I can hardly speak English.”
“You’ll be perfect then, because I don’t know what language those American tourists I’ve met speak, but it sure ain’t English.”
“So how do I apply?”
“There will be a phone number appear on the screen. Isn’t that how these things normally work? You might not get in for this series, but next year …”
“Seriously, how do I apply?”
“I think we need to speak to somebody but I’m not sure who.”
Surprisingly, there were no other volunteers and so through a combination of luck, saying ‘I do’ at the right time and a lack of other suitable candidates, Connor Ryan had the honour of being the first Irishman chosen to go beyond the orbit of the Moon.
“Whoa, what’s that?” the first one asked.
“There’s a series of signals … The IIR has picked something up.”
“From where?” she asked.
The second person pushed his chair off from the console he was sitting in and glided along the floor to the IIR telescope’s console. “Something in Leo and it’s regular flashes.”
“It’ll be something in Earth orbit.”
“Apparently it’s something further away … It’s stopped.”
“Ah, it will be nothing then. We do have recordings?”
The IIR anomaly as it was called, got a few mentions in national media. At first technical errors were blamed, but no error was found with either the hardware or the software.
Then, when exactly two months later the same series of flashes were detected by the E-ELT in Chile, again in Leo, but slightly to the north, a search was begun in earnest.
After the third set of flashes, several telescopes, both professional and amateur were pointed at the where the object was predicted to be. And there was nothing there. Only when time was booked on one of the powerful space telescopes positioned at the moon’s L2 point was an object detected. It was in a solar orbit, showed no discernible disc and was therefore asteroid sized, and every so often it would send a series of powerful infrared pulses towards the Earth.
And they seemed to be directed towards the Earth. It was then when the non-scientific media started showing an interest.
The more sensational press started alien stories. Was the Earth going to be invaded? Or were the aliens going to make peaceful contact? Serious scientists pointed out that when neutron stars were first discovered, aliens had been speculated as the source, but the truth was that the objects were natural. This would turn out the same way. Nevertheless, whatever the thing was, an expedition was needed to visit it and determine what the hell it was.
The object was given several names. The original designation was its usual catalogue number, then there was the forgettable list of numbers giving it its minor planet designation. The object was unique enough to get a proper name and so the debate began in earnest as to what to call it. To remain loyal to the rules that objects beyond the orbit of Neptune should have a name from one of the underworld gods from various mythologies the name Hades was eventually chosen, as something this unusual was going to have a Greek name.
Of course an unmanned robotic craft could have been sent, but on this occasion the feeling was that a manned expedition might be more fruitful as there would be lots of science to be done. And so, it was decided that the first manned expedition beyond the orbit of Saturn should have one and only one objective, that of Hades.
No sooner had the decision been made, than the arguments started. The Gagarin craft, was commandeered, an easy decision to make as it was the only craft capable of reaching the object within a reasonable timescale.
The Gagarin was designed to have a crew of ten and so the five largest contributors to the ISC, each reserved two places for their nationals, much to the annoyance of India, Australia, the South American Union and the Southern African Association.
The four nation states of the US, Republic of China, Japan and Russia easily selected their crewmembers, but Europe which itself was a Union of nation states, then had the usual arguments as to which countries should be represented. Those countries such as Germany, France, Italy and the UK, which contributed the most, wanted their nationals to take part. The smaller nations asked why they didn’t get a chance. So as a compromise, it was decided to use a weighted lottery, weighted in that a country that contributed 20% of the budget (say Germany) had a 20% chance of winning, et cetera. Everyone expected the two candidates to be selected from the big four.
Connor was in Ireland’s small National Space Agency in Cork, in the small building that served as its headquarters, as he watched the broadcast of the draw live from Zurich. It was a strange way to select the crewmembers of the first manned expedition beyond the orbit of Saturn.
He watched as the first place on the expedition was awarded to Spain with a contribution of 4.5%.
♪ Oh this year, I’m off to sunny Space …♫ someone started to sing.
“Shut up,” Derek shouted.
♪ Y viva … espacia. ♫
“Why are you bothered about this? It’s not as if we’re getting to go.”
♪ I’m catching the … nananana plane. ♫
“Are you not interested in what the hell that object up there is?”
♪ Y viva … espacia. ♫
“Are you saying it is aliens?”
♪ If you want to kiss an alien, in some cool … asteroid. ♫
“No that is not what I am saying. I am saying that it is unusual and I would like to know what it is.”
“You want to make sure she’s not suffering from asteroids first.”
♪ Espacia por favor. ♫
Second draw now. Connor was trying to ignore the 20th Century pop song and the rehashed discussions, but was only half-watching when the TV display announced “Ireland, La deuxième place revient à l'Irlande.”
“Did they say, Ireland or Iceland? It was Ireland wasn’t it?”
“It was us you deaf bastard.”
“Where the feck are we going to get an astronaut from?”
“Do we even contribute?”
“Of course we do. Who do you think pays for your salary. 0.6% of the total contribution if you must know, if you’d been following the pre-match draw analysis …”
“We’ll just have to let the third place winner get the slot.”
And in one of those moments of synchronicity, the TV announced, “And the third place, in case either of the two applicants cannot find a suitable candidate goes to …”
“Why are they switching languages again?”
“It’s some Swiss thing.”
“But they don’t speak English in Switzerland.”
“… to England.”
“Well we’re not going to let an Englishman take our place.”
“Who’s fourth?”
Suddenly all the uninterest and disinterest turned into interest, as the room watched the draw of the fourth nation, the country that would get a place, if two of the top three couldn’t fill their slot.
“It’s Germany.”
“Only slightly better. We’ll give it to them.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Eh?”
“If Ireland doesn’t have an astronaut then the place automatically goes to England, we don’t get to choose.”
“Feck that. Who fancies going into space.”
“I do,” Connor replied, almost surprising himself.
“Can you speak Russian?”
“I can hardly speak English.”
“You’ll be perfect then, because I don’t know what language those American tourists I’ve met speak, but it sure ain’t English.”
“So how do I apply?”
“There will be a phone number appear on the screen. Isn’t that how these things normally work? You might not get in for this series, but next year …”
“Seriously, how do I apply?”
“I think we need to speak to somebody but I’m not sure who.”
Surprisingly, there were no other volunteers and so through a combination of luck, saying ‘I do’ at the right time and a lack of other suitable candidates, Connor Ryan had the honour of being the first Irishman chosen to go beyond the orbit of the Moon.
To begin with it was fun, his picture was all over the media and he was a minor celebrity, though Connor found that did not enjoy that as much as he had anticipated.
Then Connor was introduced to Carmen, the Spanish astronaut, the other half of Team Europe. Connor hated that term and refused to use it. Then there were the press conferences in various European cities where inane questions were asked of him and Carmen.
“What was it like to be selected to be the first …”
“It was a wonderful honour Jim,” Connor decided all reporters were called Jim.
“What do you think you will find out there, beyond Neptune?”
“I don’t know. That’s why we’re going.”
“And what do you think aliens will look like?”
“Big and scary.” That sort of question always demanded a sarcastic answer.
Then the fun bit was over and the training started.
First Connor had to get fit. The first bits of which involved obstacle courses ran by American sadists who shouted at him and by not eating chocolate.
During this time he and Carmen met their colleagues.
The mission commander was chosen from the American selection and the candidate chosen was space veteran, Alan Lewis, he had been on one of the Jovian missions. And in addition there was Vanessa Rodriguez.
Vanessa was the poster girl for the US space service. Top of her year, the first Puerto Rican female astronaut to go into beyond Low Earth orbit, the first to go to the moon, the first to do pretty much anything space-related.
Connor couldn’t quite believe his luck when he found out that she was going to be on the same mission as him. Nor could he believe his luck when she seemed to quite like him. Not that he thought he had a chance though, she was out of his league.
Since the Americans had nabbed the mission commander, the Russians had to have the second in command and this honour went to Pavel Muratov another veteran with several missions under his belt, with Kateryna Startsev selected as the other cosmonaut.
From China the two taikonauts were Lian Hu and Shen Cheung. Shen like Carmen and Connor had never been in space prior to being selected for the mission.
Then from Japan were Iku Ono and Saita Mori.
The first time they all met was on one of the Mission briefings in Florida. It was strange to think that these were people that Connor was going to be spending over half a year with.
Then the real training started and it was worse than the American sadists. Centrifuges simulating various ‘g’ forces, survival in all sorts of terrain, though none were really suitable as they all existed on Earth and none as far as anyone knew existed in the outer Solar System. I mean, what was the point in learning fecking jungle survival when you’re going beyond the orbit of Neptune. Then two weeks in low Earth orbit, trying not to throw up all the time and then finally the trip to the Lunar Base at the Moon’s south pole, where they could practice walking in a low gravity environment.
At least the Gagarin would spin, meaning zero gravity would not be the norm for the trip.
And then there was the spacewalk. Connor along with the three other space-virgins (not his favoured term) had to brave their agoraphobia and fly about in space, learning to control a jetpack (not the real name, but what Connor called them). Connor felt physically sick, but he couldn’t let that show, because the English were training their astronaut up, just in case either he or Carmen could not take part.
“I hated that,” Carmen said. “I’m not sure I can do this,” she confided to Connor as they changed out of their suits.
“Of course you can,” Connor said. “Do you know the only reason I’ve not pulled out by now?”
“No?” She looked at him; surprised that he had even considered it.
“So that English arse doesn’t get my place. This will be the worst bit, if we can survive it, then we’ll be fine. Once we go, we’ll be in the Gagarin for a few months. There will be gravity; we won’t walk in space, because if someone is chosen to do it, it won’t be you or me, you can bet on it. It will be someone with far more experience. We’ll orbit Hades for a while, take some measurements, discover it’s some natural phenomenon from the category of objects that are obvious and why hadn’t we realised these object should exist or we decide that we don’t know what it is and come back. Piece of piss. And we’ll get paid lots of money while we’re out in space and have nothing to spend it on.”
Carmen was smiling when they stepped onto the Space Station proper. As they did Vanessa pulled Connor back. “Did you say something to Carmen?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” Connor replied, his natural paranoia kicking in.
“She looks the happiest I’ve seen her for weeks. I had real worries about her.”
“Us Europeans have to support each other, so I just tried to cheer her up. Don’t you and Alan support each other?”
“Well yes, we do.”
Connor felt there was something Vanessa wasn’t telling him. Perhaps it wasn’t all roses in team US. If it wasn’t, then it was none of his business. In fact he was better off not knowing.
And then there were the dangers of travelling into space. All spacecraft were shielded, as was the moonbase, but shielding wasn’t 100% perfect and if Connor wanted to become a father, then it was better to have a backup of his genetic material left on Earth for his return. It was quite embarrassing really but not as invasive as what the three women had to go through.
Plus the long-term contraceptives that they were all on had been known on very rare occasions to have permanent side effects, but they should have shown up before they left.
All in all, it was a life-wrecking experience going into space, all for the pleasure for looking at some strange object beyond the orbit of Neptune for a short time. Because when they arrived, what else were they going to be able to do?
Then Connor was introduced to Carmen, the Spanish astronaut, the other half of Team Europe. Connor hated that term and refused to use it. Then there were the press conferences in various European cities where inane questions were asked of him and Carmen.
“What was it like to be selected to be the first …”
“It was a wonderful honour Jim,” Connor decided all reporters were called Jim.
“What do you think you will find out there, beyond Neptune?”
“I don’t know. That’s why we’re going.”
“And what do you think aliens will look like?”
“Big and scary.” That sort of question always demanded a sarcastic answer.
Then the fun bit was over and the training started.
First Connor had to get fit. The first bits of which involved obstacle courses ran by American sadists who shouted at him and by not eating chocolate.
During this time he and Carmen met their colleagues.
The mission commander was chosen from the American selection and the candidate chosen was space veteran, Alan Lewis, he had been on one of the Jovian missions. And in addition there was Vanessa Rodriguez.
Vanessa was the poster girl for the US space service. Top of her year, the first Puerto Rican female astronaut to go into beyond Low Earth orbit, the first to go to the moon, the first to do pretty much anything space-related.
Connor couldn’t quite believe his luck when he found out that she was going to be on the same mission as him. Nor could he believe his luck when she seemed to quite like him. Not that he thought he had a chance though, she was out of his league.
Since the Americans had nabbed the mission commander, the Russians had to have the second in command and this honour went to Pavel Muratov another veteran with several missions under his belt, with Kateryna Startsev selected as the other cosmonaut.
From China the two taikonauts were Lian Hu and Shen Cheung. Shen like Carmen and Connor had never been in space prior to being selected for the mission.
Then from Japan were Iku Ono and Saita Mori.
The first time they all met was on one of the Mission briefings in Florida. It was strange to think that these were people that Connor was going to be spending over half a year with.
Then the real training started and it was worse than the American sadists. Centrifuges simulating various ‘g’ forces, survival in all sorts of terrain, though none were really suitable as they all existed on Earth and none as far as anyone knew existed in the outer Solar System. I mean, what was the point in learning fecking jungle survival when you’re going beyond the orbit of Neptune. Then two weeks in low Earth orbit, trying not to throw up all the time and then finally the trip to the Lunar Base at the Moon’s south pole, where they could practice walking in a low gravity environment.
At least the Gagarin would spin, meaning zero gravity would not be the norm for the trip.
And then there was the spacewalk. Connor along with the three other space-virgins (not his favoured term) had to brave their agoraphobia and fly about in space, learning to control a jetpack (not the real name, but what Connor called them). Connor felt physically sick, but he couldn’t let that show, because the English were training their astronaut up, just in case either he or Carmen could not take part.
“I hated that,” Carmen said. “I’m not sure I can do this,” she confided to Connor as they changed out of their suits.
“Of course you can,” Connor said. “Do you know the only reason I’ve not pulled out by now?”
“No?” She looked at him; surprised that he had even considered it.
“So that English arse doesn’t get my place. This will be the worst bit, if we can survive it, then we’ll be fine. Once we go, we’ll be in the Gagarin for a few months. There will be gravity; we won’t walk in space, because if someone is chosen to do it, it won’t be you or me, you can bet on it. It will be someone with far more experience. We’ll orbit Hades for a while, take some measurements, discover it’s some natural phenomenon from the category of objects that are obvious and why hadn’t we realised these object should exist or we decide that we don’t know what it is and come back. Piece of piss. And we’ll get paid lots of money while we’re out in space and have nothing to spend it on.”
Carmen was smiling when they stepped onto the Space Station proper. As they did Vanessa pulled Connor back. “Did you say something to Carmen?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” Connor replied, his natural paranoia kicking in.
“She looks the happiest I’ve seen her for weeks. I had real worries about her.”
“Us Europeans have to support each other, so I just tried to cheer her up. Don’t you and Alan support each other?”
“Well yes, we do.”
Connor felt there was something Vanessa wasn’t telling him. Perhaps it wasn’t all roses in team US. If it wasn’t, then it was none of his business. In fact he was better off not knowing.
And then there were the dangers of travelling into space. All spacecraft were shielded, as was the moonbase, but shielding wasn’t 100% perfect and if Connor wanted to become a father, then it was better to have a backup of his genetic material left on Earth for his return. It was quite embarrassing really but not as invasive as what the three women had to go through.
Plus the long-term contraceptives that they were all on had been known on very rare occasions to have permanent side effects, but they should have shown up before they left.
All in all, it was a life-wrecking experience going into space, all for the pleasure for looking at some strange object beyond the orbit of Neptune for a short time. Because when they arrived, what else were they going to be able to do?