Ran, p.2
RAN, page 2
Kimberly Deveraux—Andromeda Chief Information Officer. Companion to Daphne. eKim—Upload version of Kimberly Deveraux
Klophut Gebala, Bishop—Dragon Bishop of the Ramden Sector.
Max—Daphne’s tabby cat eMax—Upload version of Max
Maxter—Cloned version of Max
Metajo Gwzon, Sgt.—Amred soldier
Olkklot Vulorn—Mayor of the Village of Cordan. Later Chief Judge of the Geroptic Tribunal.
Ostrrop Naoria—SPC Flight Director
Sally Nguyen, PhD—School of Mines—Andromeda Senior Scientist eSally—Upload version of Sally Nguyen
Sergii Anatoly Borisovich, Academician—Udachny Enterprises Senior Scientist
Ustrun Strozid—Andromeda Chief Engineer from Rogan.
SPACECRAFT ROSTER
PHOENIX SPACECRAFT
PS Andromeda
PHOENIX M-CLASS STARSHIPS & PILOTS
(alphabetically by ship; callsign follows name)
PS Alan Shepard—Jocara Porovik (StarChick) and Kreax Nelgan (Jock)
PS Michael Collins—Nirlinn Odorbon (GoGirl) and Gloley Taced (SlapTail)
PS Neil Armstrong—Kenred Zlaxiz (Bobcat) and Neepons Kited (Cupcake)
PS David Scott—Klaaveola Nirhut (Rainbow) and Gzo Blubuts (Slasher)
PS Alan Bean— Jurkit Blibeks (Snout) and Darcat Janoi (Tiptoe)
UDACHNY SPACECRAFT
UZ Sergei Krikalyov (superluminal ABO craft)
ARCAN SPACECRAFT
Capsule Arcan-One
Prolog
Phoenix Starship Andromeda
PS Andromeda—a half-kilometer thick circular disk five kilometers across with an elaborate cityscape on one surface and an upside-down pastoral landscape on the other, complete with mountains, meadows, and streams. Transparent domes cover both sides. An artificial mini black hole inside the central disk supplies artificial gravity and powers the craft.
Andromeda is on the first leg of an open-ended voyage from the star Aster, pointed at the constellation Eridanus to investigate the Cosmic Microwave Background Cold Spot, six to ten billion lightyears distant, stopping along the way when things look interesting.
First stop: The star Ran—Epsilon Eridani.
PART ONE
FIRST CONTACT
Chapter One
Arcan-One Space Capsule—Space Push Consortium Mission, Circum-Lodan Trajectory
“Arcan-One, stand by for Lodan orbital injection burn!”
The announcement arrived at the capsule as an optical beam relayed by an Arcan geostationary satellite.
“Are you ready to do this, Jocara?” Kenred Zlaxiz asked off the circuit, turning to his companion.
“That’s why we’re here,” she answered, pointing through the large, sapphire window to their moon, Lodan, hanging in space before them. “If we abort, it’s the mines for me…for sure.”
“You’re jesting! The Ceffid government wouldn’t do that.”
“You’re from Amred—I’m not sure you can understand. Should we abort back to Arcan, you’ll be on the next capsule…but not with me. I’ll be shoveling pitchblende or something equally noxious.”
Kenred turned back to his console. So glad I was born in Amred, he thought and touched a control. “Roger! Standing by for Lodan orbital injection burn.”
Mission Control—Amred City, Amred, Planet Arcan
“Attention, please!”
Flight Director Ostrrop Naoria stood behind his podium with raised arms. The room quieted. Individual technicians manned their stations, four curved rows deep, facing a wall completely covered with display screens filled with graphics except one, a direct visual color display of the view through the capsule sapphire window.
“GO Check for Lodan orbital injection burn,” Naoria intoned.
One by one, the technicians gave “GO!” for their stations. Following the last “GO!” Naoria started the injection burn countdown.
The burn lasted two minutes.
“Arcan-One, status…”
“This is Arcan-One. Injection burn successfully completed. Capsule systems stable at zero-gee.”
“Mission Control concurs, Arcan-One systems stable. Stand by for loss of communications in twenty-three minutes.”
Arcan-One Space Capsule—Space Push Consortium Mission, Circum-Lodan Trajectory
“We’re committed now, Jocara!” Kenred unstrapped from his seat, and floating, turned to face his fellow astronaut. Her pale green, finely shaped saurian face scales rippled slightly with a faint lavender hue as she smiled joyfully—an open-eyed look with no change in her mouth shape.
“Our orbit takes us well clear of Lodan’s three moonlets,” Jocara said. “We may actually see one of them on the farside, however.”
“Not if well clear means what I think it means.”
“Stand by for loss of communications!” the optical beam processed through Arcan-One’s non-emitting optical system. “Four…three…two…one…zero!”
Mission Control—Amred City, Amred, Planet Arcan
“Okay, people, listen up!” Flight Director Naoria announced from his podium. “We’ve got a half hour. Take a short break and be back at your stations twelve minutes before reacquisition.”
As the time approached, the technicians manned their stations. The room was as still as it ever got. At the moment of expected reacquisition, CapCom transmitted, “Arcan-One, this is Mission Control, over.”
Silence…
“Arcan-One, this is Mission Control, over.”
Silence still…
“Arcan-One, Arcan-One, this is Mission Control, Mission Control, over.”
More silence…
Chapter Two
Phoenix Starship Andromeda—Hovering Invisibly in Nullspace Beyond Lodan, Operations Center
Kenred slowly opened his eyes. He was no longer floating in the capsule but lay on the deck of some kind of operations center filled with monitors and control consoles. He felt a whiff of panic. His scales rippled, showing a hint of red. Lighting and temperature seemed normal, but he felt heavier. He took a deep breath, shoving down his initial panic. Jocara rolled over beside him, hyperventilating, her scales bright red. Kenred gripped her arm and whispered softly, “Easy, Jocara, easy!” They both sat up as her scales faded back to bluish green.
Several humanoid creatures stood in a loose circle around them. A strange-looking one stepped toward him, five-fingered hands on its hips. It was oddly thin and tall, with puffy lips and a pointed nose in place of a snout. It had long, spindly, two-sectioned legs, a short torso with articulating arms, and no visible tail. Two intelligent eyes peered from a hair-crowned, spherical head.
Clearly, some kind of mammalian ancestry, Kenred deduced. The humanoid addressed him in his native Amred with an oddly distorted accent.
“I am Braxton Thorpe, Commanding Phoenix Starship Andromeda. I represent the inhabitants of the stellar system you call Rodal—we call ourselves Humans. We are on a peaceful research mission passing through your system. We pose no threat to you.”
A second, different humanoid joined Thorpe. Like Kenred, it displayed six digits on each hand and was shorter and stockier than the Human. Its hairy head was much like the Human’s, but with flattened nose and slender lips. Its ears articulated, reminding Kenred of the small domestic felines kept as pets by his own people.
Another mammalian, Kenred thought as he looked around. No Saurians. The second offworlder addressed him.
“I am Holon Mavik, Chief of the Roganian L2 Group. I represent the inhabitants of the stellar system you call Dytom—we call ourselves Asterians.”
“We need to stand and introduce ourselves,” Kenred whispered to Jocara, stroking the fine scales on her arm. Their color had returned to normal. “I’ll take the lead.” He climbed to his feet, his stumpy legs quivering in the higher gravity, balancing with his tail.
“I am Capsule Arcan-One Commander Kenred Zlaxiz from the nation Amred on the planet Arcan.”
“And I am Astronaut Jocara Porovik from Ceffid. We represent Amred’s Space Push Consortium.”
“What happened to our capsule, the Arcan-One?” Kenred asked.
“Unharmed in Lodan orbit,” the Human answered.
“How did we get here?”
The Human’s mouth opened, emitting a cackling sound. “We will happily share that with you, but first you will need to understand some advanced physics I suspect your scientists have not yet discovered. We’ll get to that later.” The Human swept its arm toward the other offworlders in the compartment. “We are the senior people on this starship. Hopefully, you will get to know us before too long.”
“Arcan-One’s orbit is ninety-six minutes,” Kenred said. “How long have we been away from the capsule?”
The Human checked an instrument. “Seventeen of your minutes.”
“How do your minutes and ours differ?” Jocara asked.
“Arcan’s rotation, and thus your day, is slightly longer than our home planet,” the Human answered. “Your numbering system is obviously based on twelve.” It held up its splayed hands. “Ours is ten-based, but both we and you count time in twelves. Your minute is a fraction of a second longer than ours. In casual conversation, they can be considered identical.”
Kenred did a quick mental calculation. “We had just lost comms with Mission Control when you snatched us. In about nineteen minutes, Mission Control is going to discover that the capsule is empty.”
The Human’s mouth curved upward, and it held up a palm-size, silvery disk. “This is a hyper-disk. We sequestered one in Arcan-One where your people are unlikely to find it. That disk will open a portal directly to Andromeda.” The Human’s mouth curved upward again—A smile, Kenred deduced. “Let me show you.”
The Human manipulated a control on a console. A doorway appeared between them to Kenred’s right. Through the doorway was the interior of Arcan-One. Kenred walked around the door to examine the other side. As he passed the plane of the door, it disappeared. He stepped back to the front; the door reappeared, looking as solid and real as anything else in the room.
“Step through into Arcan-One,” the Human said. “It’s like walking through any door on Arcan.” It emitted a clucking sound through a smile. “Go ahead—it won’t hurt you, but be mindful that you will go from our gravity here to zero-gee!”
Kenred turned to Jocara. She opened her eyes wide, indicating a tentative Why not?
“Okay,” Kenred said, stepping through the door into Arcan-One. He floated across the capsule to the opposite side. He turned and looked back through the door at Jocara and the offworlders.
“May I join you?” the Human asked.
“Not a lot of room here, but sure, join me.” Kenred watched the taller Human step through the door—the portal—and tuck its legs close to fit into the small space as it floated and looked about.
“Very much like our Apollo capsules when we first visited our moon,” the Human said quietly. It looked at both seats, but there was no way it would have fit in one. It looked at what was probably a time piece on its wrist. “We still have a few minutes before comms are reestablished. Do you want your fellow astronaut…”
“Jocara,” Kenred interrupted.
“…Jocara to join you here before you return to Andromeda?” It floated back through the portal and deftly landed on its feet.
“Yes, please send her through.” Kenred hesitated, thinking about the vast difference between the offworlder and Arcan technology, and realizing that he and Jocara were totally at these offworlders’ mercy. “Do you want us here to reestablish comms with Mission Control, or back on Andromeda?”
“After Jocara passes through the portal, both of you please return here. You may already suspect my reasons, but I’ll explain fully as we move forward.”
Jocara nervously stepped through the portal into Arcan-One, and Kenred took her arm as she coasted over to him. They both sat, and he told her in her native Ceffid language, “These offworlders seem benign, but consider for a moment the vast gulf between their technology and ours. All we have seen is the inside of a control room without knowing how we got there. This portal technology is beyond anything we have ever imagined. We must seem like swamp lizards to them. Why are they interested in us? What can we offer them? What is their real motive? I don’t trust them and don’t want to give them any reason to be anything but friendly.” He smiled with wide open eyes and rippling face scales and squeezed her hand. “Let’s go back and see what we can learn—but cautiously. Mission Control will just have to deal with our disappearance.”
Mission Control—Amred City, Amred, Planet Arcan
When Arcan-One failed to respond, pandemonium broke out in Mission Control. Flight Director Naoria hissed through his snout and raised his arms. “Settle down, people! Quiet!”
As the noise quieted down, he pointed to the technician, who controlled the capsule internal camera. “Pan the interior,” he ordered.
Lodan, visible through the capsule’s window on Mission Control’s primary display, shifted left as the camera panned around the capsule.
Nothing, Naoria thought, my astronauts are gone. But that’s impossible. There’s no way to exit the capsule without releasing all the air. He glanced at the internal pressure gauge near the primary display. Normal internal pressure. Had they exited the capsule, there would be no internal pressure.
One of the seated technicians raised his hand. “Sir, the oxygen and nitrogen percentages are wrong. They’re twenty-one and seventy-nine percent, respectively. They should be twenty and eighty. This is impossible!”
“Are the reserves topped up?” Naoria asked.
“Yes, Sir! Two-blocked.”
Another technician piped up, “Sir, the onboard clock is four minutes behind. I’ve checked and double checked. Four minutes are gone!”
“Troubleshoot your consoles,” Naoria told them. “Then check again. The rest of you, find an answer, a solution to this dilemma.” Naoria turned to CapCom. “Keep calling!”
Thirty-seven minutes later, Arcan-One passed behind Lodan.
Naoria walked down a hallway and entered a door into a cleanroom airlock. He quickly donned a clean-suit, booties, head and face covering, and entered a large space containing a duplicate capsule that was intended to be an emergency backup. A group of engineers stood around a table discussing the situation.
“Well?” Naoria said to his chief engineer.
“No idea, but we just started an out-of-the-box approach.” He beckoned Naoria to the table. “How many ways can we end up with our present situation?” He gave Naoria a worried look. “Nothing is off the table—even alien abduction. Give us a couple of orbits to work this out.”
Three hours later, Naoria stood once again at the table in the cleanroom, listening to his chief engineer.
“If, hypothetically, one of our future spaceships had returned from the future to our present, linked up with Arcan-One, and transferred our astronauts to their vessel, this, or some similar event, would explain their absence. Ridiculous, I know. But even this fantastical explanation cannot explain the difference in atmospheric composition.” He sighed and spread his hands on the table. The other engineers and technicians would not meet Naoria’s eyes. “We have exhaustively examined every possible way to generate the difference in composition. Everything we came up with, we confirmed didn’t happen. The only way to remove the astronauts while retaining the atmosphere is to link to another spaceship—the only way. Now, if that other spaceship has an atmosphere ratio of oxygen to nitrogen different from ours, then the resulting capsule mix will be some combination of theirs and ours.”
Naoria attempted to interrupt, but the engineer held up his hand. “Let me finish! We know that Rodal, some ten lightyears distant, has a spacefaring civilization. Ditto for Dytom, but it’s about seventy-six lightyears away. We have gone to great lengths to hide our presence in the galaxy. Arcan does not emit electromagnetic radiation. We use lasers for communication and ranging. It is highly unlikely that either civilization knows about us. On the other hand, if the Rodal civilization has developed FTL travel, we are the obvious choice for a first visit because they would have detected Arcan in the life zone—not us, just our planet.” The engineer sighed. “Even if they don’t have FTL, we are only ten lightyears away—still the obvious choice.”
“So, what are you saying?” Naoria asked.
“I think you know, Sir. An alien spaceship out beyond the moon has abducted our astronauts.”
Phoenix Starship Andromeda—Hovering Invisibly in Nullspace Beyond Lodan, Conference Room
Kenred and Jocara sat side by side at an oval, polished wood table in a conference room—the only other part of Andromeda Kenred had seen. To Kenred’s surprise, the offworlders had come up with comfortable chairs that conformed to his and Jocara’s anatomy. The Human Thorpe occupied a seat at one end of the table. Asterian Mavic was at the other. Ten other offworlders, mostly Human, filled up the rest of the table. To Kenred’s utter surprise, a small feline creature very similar to a popular household pet in Amred jumped to the tabletop, rumbling softly. With tail stiff in the air, it visited each individual at the table, including himself and Jocara.
“Meet Max,” Thorpe said, with a clucking sound that Kenred interpreted as amusement.
Max pretty much ignored Kenred, but when he stopped at Jocara, she reached out and petted him. In response, Max arched his back and rubbed his face against her snout, much to everyone’s delight.
The Human Thorpe began speaking, looking directly at Kenred and Jocara. “Your Mission Control has had about two hours to figure out where you two are and how the atmosphere in your capsule changed. You are an intelligent, resourceful people. Remarkably so. You are an incipient spacefaring species without ever announcing your presence to the galaxy. We live practically next door, and we were ignorant of your existence. We are here because your star is the obvious first stop on a lengthy journey we are undertaking. Otherwise, we may never have discovered you.” The Human dropped his gaze and seemed momentarily distracted.
Klophut Gebala, Bishop—Dragon Bishop of the Ramden Sector.
Max—Daphne’s tabby cat eMax—Upload version of Max
Maxter—Cloned version of Max
Metajo Gwzon, Sgt.—Amred soldier
Olkklot Vulorn—Mayor of the Village of Cordan. Later Chief Judge of the Geroptic Tribunal.
Ostrrop Naoria—SPC Flight Director
Sally Nguyen, PhD—School of Mines—Andromeda Senior Scientist eSally—Upload version of Sally Nguyen
Sergii Anatoly Borisovich, Academician—Udachny Enterprises Senior Scientist
Ustrun Strozid—Andromeda Chief Engineer from Rogan.
SPACECRAFT ROSTER
PHOENIX SPACECRAFT
PS Andromeda
PHOENIX M-CLASS STARSHIPS & PILOTS
(alphabetically by ship; callsign follows name)
PS Alan Shepard—Jocara Porovik (StarChick) and Kreax Nelgan (Jock)
PS Michael Collins—Nirlinn Odorbon (GoGirl) and Gloley Taced (SlapTail)
PS Neil Armstrong—Kenred Zlaxiz (Bobcat) and Neepons Kited (Cupcake)
PS David Scott—Klaaveola Nirhut (Rainbow) and Gzo Blubuts (Slasher)
PS Alan Bean— Jurkit Blibeks (Snout) and Darcat Janoi (Tiptoe)
UDACHNY SPACECRAFT
UZ Sergei Krikalyov (superluminal ABO craft)
ARCAN SPACECRAFT
Capsule Arcan-One
Prolog
Phoenix Starship Andromeda
PS Andromeda—a half-kilometer thick circular disk five kilometers across with an elaborate cityscape on one surface and an upside-down pastoral landscape on the other, complete with mountains, meadows, and streams. Transparent domes cover both sides. An artificial mini black hole inside the central disk supplies artificial gravity and powers the craft.
Andromeda is on the first leg of an open-ended voyage from the star Aster, pointed at the constellation Eridanus to investigate the Cosmic Microwave Background Cold Spot, six to ten billion lightyears distant, stopping along the way when things look interesting.
First stop: The star Ran—Epsilon Eridani.
PART ONE
FIRST CONTACT
Chapter One
Arcan-One Space Capsule—Space Push Consortium Mission, Circum-Lodan Trajectory
“Arcan-One, stand by for Lodan orbital injection burn!”
The announcement arrived at the capsule as an optical beam relayed by an Arcan geostationary satellite.
“Are you ready to do this, Jocara?” Kenred Zlaxiz asked off the circuit, turning to his companion.
“That’s why we’re here,” she answered, pointing through the large, sapphire window to their moon, Lodan, hanging in space before them. “If we abort, it’s the mines for me…for sure.”
“You’re jesting! The Ceffid government wouldn’t do that.”
“You’re from Amred—I’m not sure you can understand. Should we abort back to Arcan, you’ll be on the next capsule…but not with me. I’ll be shoveling pitchblende or something equally noxious.”
Kenred turned back to his console. So glad I was born in Amred, he thought and touched a control. “Roger! Standing by for Lodan orbital injection burn.”
Mission Control—Amred City, Amred, Planet Arcan
“Attention, please!”
Flight Director Ostrrop Naoria stood behind his podium with raised arms. The room quieted. Individual technicians manned their stations, four curved rows deep, facing a wall completely covered with display screens filled with graphics except one, a direct visual color display of the view through the capsule sapphire window.
“GO Check for Lodan orbital injection burn,” Naoria intoned.
One by one, the technicians gave “GO!” for their stations. Following the last “GO!” Naoria started the injection burn countdown.
The burn lasted two minutes.
“Arcan-One, status…”
“This is Arcan-One. Injection burn successfully completed. Capsule systems stable at zero-gee.”
“Mission Control concurs, Arcan-One systems stable. Stand by for loss of communications in twenty-three minutes.”
Arcan-One Space Capsule—Space Push Consortium Mission, Circum-Lodan Trajectory
“We’re committed now, Jocara!” Kenred unstrapped from his seat, and floating, turned to face his fellow astronaut. Her pale green, finely shaped saurian face scales rippled slightly with a faint lavender hue as she smiled joyfully—an open-eyed look with no change in her mouth shape.
“Our orbit takes us well clear of Lodan’s three moonlets,” Jocara said. “We may actually see one of them on the farside, however.”
“Not if well clear means what I think it means.”
“Stand by for loss of communications!” the optical beam processed through Arcan-One’s non-emitting optical system. “Four…three…two…one…zero!”
Mission Control—Amred City, Amred, Planet Arcan
“Okay, people, listen up!” Flight Director Naoria announced from his podium. “We’ve got a half hour. Take a short break and be back at your stations twelve minutes before reacquisition.”
As the time approached, the technicians manned their stations. The room was as still as it ever got. At the moment of expected reacquisition, CapCom transmitted, “Arcan-One, this is Mission Control, over.”
Silence…
“Arcan-One, this is Mission Control, over.”
Silence still…
“Arcan-One, Arcan-One, this is Mission Control, Mission Control, over.”
More silence…
Chapter Two
Phoenix Starship Andromeda—Hovering Invisibly in Nullspace Beyond Lodan, Operations Center
Kenred slowly opened his eyes. He was no longer floating in the capsule but lay on the deck of some kind of operations center filled with monitors and control consoles. He felt a whiff of panic. His scales rippled, showing a hint of red. Lighting and temperature seemed normal, but he felt heavier. He took a deep breath, shoving down his initial panic. Jocara rolled over beside him, hyperventilating, her scales bright red. Kenred gripped her arm and whispered softly, “Easy, Jocara, easy!” They both sat up as her scales faded back to bluish green.
Several humanoid creatures stood in a loose circle around them. A strange-looking one stepped toward him, five-fingered hands on its hips. It was oddly thin and tall, with puffy lips and a pointed nose in place of a snout. It had long, spindly, two-sectioned legs, a short torso with articulating arms, and no visible tail. Two intelligent eyes peered from a hair-crowned, spherical head.
Clearly, some kind of mammalian ancestry, Kenred deduced. The humanoid addressed him in his native Amred with an oddly distorted accent.
“I am Braxton Thorpe, Commanding Phoenix Starship Andromeda. I represent the inhabitants of the stellar system you call Rodal—we call ourselves Humans. We are on a peaceful research mission passing through your system. We pose no threat to you.”
A second, different humanoid joined Thorpe. Like Kenred, it displayed six digits on each hand and was shorter and stockier than the Human. Its hairy head was much like the Human’s, but with flattened nose and slender lips. Its ears articulated, reminding Kenred of the small domestic felines kept as pets by his own people.
Another mammalian, Kenred thought as he looked around. No Saurians. The second offworlder addressed him.
“I am Holon Mavik, Chief of the Roganian L2 Group. I represent the inhabitants of the stellar system you call Dytom—we call ourselves Asterians.”
“We need to stand and introduce ourselves,” Kenred whispered to Jocara, stroking the fine scales on her arm. Their color had returned to normal. “I’ll take the lead.” He climbed to his feet, his stumpy legs quivering in the higher gravity, balancing with his tail.
“I am Capsule Arcan-One Commander Kenred Zlaxiz from the nation Amred on the planet Arcan.”
“And I am Astronaut Jocara Porovik from Ceffid. We represent Amred’s Space Push Consortium.”
“What happened to our capsule, the Arcan-One?” Kenred asked.
“Unharmed in Lodan orbit,” the Human answered.
“How did we get here?”
The Human’s mouth opened, emitting a cackling sound. “We will happily share that with you, but first you will need to understand some advanced physics I suspect your scientists have not yet discovered. We’ll get to that later.” The Human swept its arm toward the other offworlders in the compartment. “We are the senior people on this starship. Hopefully, you will get to know us before too long.”
“Arcan-One’s orbit is ninety-six minutes,” Kenred said. “How long have we been away from the capsule?”
The Human checked an instrument. “Seventeen of your minutes.”
“How do your minutes and ours differ?” Jocara asked.
“Arcan’s rotation, and thus your day, is slightly longer than our home planet,” the Human answered. “Your numbering system is obviously based on twelve.” It held up its splayed hands. “Ours is ten-based, but both we and you count time in twelves. Your minute is a fraction of a second longer than ours. In casual conversation, they can be considered identical.”
Kenred did a quick mental calculation. “We had just lost comms with Mission Control when you snatched us. In about nineteen minutes, Mission Control is going to discover that the capsule is empty.”
The Human’s mouth curved upward, and it held up a palm-size, silvery disk. “This is a hyper-disk. We sequestered one in Arcan-One where your people are unlikely to find it. That disk will open a portal directly to Andromeda.” The Human’s mouth curved upward again—A smile, Kenred deduced. “Let me show you.”
The Human manipulated a control on a console. A doorway appeared between them to Kenred’s right. Through the doorway was the interior of Arcan-One. Kenred walked around the door to examine the other side. As he passed the plane of the door, it disappeared. He stepped back to the front; the door reappeared, looking as solid and real as anything else in the room.
“Step through into Arcan-One,” the Human said. “It’s like walking through any door on Arcan.” It emitted a clucking sound through a smile. “Go ahead—it won’t hurt you, but be mindful that you will go from our gravity here to zero-gee!”
Kenred turned to Jocara. She opened her eyes wide, indicating a tentative Why not?
“Okay,” Kenred said, stepping through the door into Arcan-One. He floated across the capsule to the opposite side. He turned and looked back through the door at Jocara and the offworlders.
“May I join you?” the Human asked.
“Not a lot of room here, but sure, join me.” Kenred watched the taller Human step through the door—the portal—and tuck its legs close to fit into the small space as it floated and looked about.
“Very much like our Apollo capsules when we first visited our moon,” the Human said quietly. It looked at both seats, but there was no way it would have fit in one. It looked at what was probably a time piece on its wrist. “We still have a few minutes before comms are reestablished. Do you want your fellow astronaut…”
“Jocara,” Kenred interrupted.
“…Jocara to join you here before you return to Andromeda?” It floated back through the portal and deftly landed on its feet.
“Yes, please send her through.” Kenred hesitated, thinking about the vast difference between the offworlder and Arcan technology, and realizing that he and Jocara were totally at these offworlders’ mercy. “Do you want us here to reestablish comms with Mission Control, or back on Andromeda?”
“After Jocara passes through the portal, both of you please return here. You may already suspect my reasons, but I’ll explain fully as we move forward.”
Jocara nervously stepped through the portal into Arcan-One, and Kenred took her arm as she coasted over to him. They both sat, and he told her in her native Ceffid language, “These offworlders seem benign, but consider for a moment the vast gulf between their technology and ours. All we have seen is the inside of a control room without knowing how we got there. This portal technology is beyond anything we have ever imagined. We must seem like swamp lizards to them. Why are they interested in us? What can we offer them? What is their real motive? I don’t trust them and don’t want to give them any reason to be anything but friendly.” He smiled with wide open eyes and rippling face scales and squeezed her hand. “Let’s go back and see what we can learn—but cautiously. Mission Control will just have to deal with our disappearance.”
Mission Control—Amred City, Amred, Planet Arcan
When Arcan-One failed to respond, pandemonium broke out in Mission Control. Flight Director Naoria hissed through his snout and raised his arms. “Settle down, people! Quiet!”
As the noise quieted down, he pointed to the technician, who controlled the capsule internal camera. “Pan the interior,” he ordered.
Lodan, visible through the capsule’s window on Mission Control’s primary display, shifted left as the camera panned around the capsule.
Nothing, Naoria thought, my astronauts are gone. But that’s impossible. There’s no way to exit the capsule without releasing all the air. He glanced at the internal pressure gauge near the primary display. Normal internal pressure. Had they exited the capsule, there would be no internal pressure.
One of the seated technicians raised his hand. “Sir, the oxygen and nitrogen percentages are wrong. They’re twenty-one and seventy-nine percent, respectively. They should be twenty and eighty. This is impossible!”
“Are the reserves topped up?” Naoria asked.
“Yes, Sir! Two-blocked.”
Another technician piped up, “Sir, the onboard clock is four minutes behind. I’ve checked and double checked. Four minutes are gone!”
“Troubleshoot your consoles,” Naoria told them. “Then check again. The rest of you, find an answer, a solution to this dilemma.” Naoria turned to CapCom. “Keep calling!”
Thirty-seven minutes later, Arcan-One passed behind Lodan.
Naoria walked down a hallway and entered a door into a cleanroom airlock. He quickly donned a clean-suit, booties, head and face covering, and entered a large space containing a duplicate capsule that was intended to be an emergency backup. A group of engineers stood around a table discussing the situation.
“Well?” Naoria said to his chief engineer.
“No idea, but we just started an out-of-the-box approach.” He beckoned Naoria to the table. “How many ways can we end up with our present situation?” He gave Naoria a worried look. “Nothing is off the table—even alien abduction. Give us a couple of orbits to work this out.”
Three hours later, Naoria stood once again at the table in the cleanroom, listening to his chief engineer.
“If, hypothetically, one of our future spaceships had returned from the future to our present, linked up with Arcan-One, and transferred our astronauts to their vessel, this, or some similar event, would explain their absence. Ridiculous, I know. But even this fantastical explanation cannot explain the difference in atmospheric composition.” He sighed and spread his hands on the table. The other engineers and technicians would not meet Naoria’s eyes. “We have exhaustively examined every possible way to generate the difference in composition. Everything we came up with, we confirmed didn’t happen. The only way to remove the astronauts while retaining the atmosphere is to link to another spaceship—the only way. Now, if that other spaceship has an atmosphere ratio of oxygen to nitrogen different from ours, then the resulting capsule mix will be some combination of theirs and ours.”
Naoria attempted to interrupt, but the engineer held up his hand. “Let me finish! We know that Rodal, some ten lightyears distant, has a spacefaring civilization. Ditto for Dytom, but it’s about seventy-six lightyears away. We have gone to great lengths to hide our presence in the galaxy. Arcan does not emit electromagnetic radiation. We use lasers for communication and ranging. It is highly unlikely that either civilization knows about us. On the other hand, if the Rodal civilization has developed FTL travel, we are the obvious choice for a first visit because they would have detected Arcan in the life zone—not us, just our planet.” The engineer sighed. “Even if they don’t have FTL, we are only ten lightyears away—still the obvious choice.”
“So, what are you saying?” Naoria asked.
“I think you know, Sir. An alien spaceship out beyond the moon has abducted our astronauts.”
Phoenix Starship Andromeda—Hovering Invisibly in Nullspace Beyond Lodan, Conference Room
Kenred and Jocara sat side by side at an oval, polished wood table in a conference room—the only other part of Andromeda Kenred had seen. To Kenred’s surprise, the offworlders had come up with comfortable chairs that conformed to his and Jocara’s anatomy. The Human Thorpe occupied a seat at one end of the table. Asterian Mavic was at the other. Ten other offworlders, mostly Human, filled up the rest of the table. To Kenred’s utter surprise, a small feline creature very similar to a popular household pet in Amred jumped to the tabletop, rumbling softly. With tail stiff in the air, it visited each individual at the table, including himself and Jocara.
“Meet Max,” Thorpe said, with a clucking sound that Kenred interpreted as amusement.
Max pretty much ignored Kenred, but when he stopped at Jocara, she reached out and petted him. In response, Max arched his back and rubbed his face against her snout, much to everyone’s delight.
The Human Thorpe began speaking, looking directly at Kenred and Jocara. “Your Mission Control has had about two hours to figure out where you two are and how the atmosphere in your capsule changed. You are an intelligent, resourceful people. Remarkably so. You are an incipient spacefaring species without ever announcing your presence to the galaxy. We live practically next door, and we were ignorant of your existence. We are here because your star is the obvious first stop on a lengthy journey we are undertaking. Otherwise, we may never have discovered you.” The Human dropped his gaze and seemed momentarily distracted.
