Alien Cradle Jeff Inlo All rights Reserved. 1. No Sign of Intelligent Life 2. Stealing a Planet 3. No Turning Back 4. Tying Up Loose Ends 5. Fenrir Revisited 6. Evolve 7. Shot Down 8. Safety 9. Lies 10. New Direction 11. Testing on the Moon 12. Run 13. Meetings 14. Opal Listens 15. Fenrite Progress 16. A Different Attack 17. Deals Made 18. Fenrir's End 19. Changing Power 20. A Place of His Own 1. No Sign of Intelligent Life Rumbling, shaking, unsettling turmoil; Rath Scampion hated atmospheric entry. Despite the presence of heat casters, the bright orange flares bursting across the viewshields convinced him that he was about to ignite into a spectacular light show. The bone-jarring convulsions made shuttle turbulence seem like a light cough. His jaw quivered, his teeth chattered from the intense vibrations; all the while he held steady to the flight stick as if it was his only lifeline. His fingers turned white from the ferocity of his grip. With the scout vessel in computer pilot, he had no true command. The shake of his arm caused no pitch of the wing or jolt to the thrusters, but holding the instrument gave him some sense of security, some belief that he maintained control. "Damn, I hate this," he shouted into the loneliness of his single-manned cockpit. He bounced with the lurching of the craft as the thrusters, both fore and aft, compensated automatically for the pitch and roll of the unsteady descent. His stomach muscles tightened and his mouth went dry. Not a new experience, not even close. He had suffered through this hundreds of times before, entered atmospheres which tried to toss him back into space as if God Himself was belching in the face of his ship. Still, he prayed to survive, and for the most part, he always doubted his chances. Wide-eyed, he scanned the display monitors before him. Everything read on the line. He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't. The recesses of his brain exploded with fear. His mind echoed with one thought - What are you nuts? His instincts demanded that he remain alert. Perhaps there was some chance he could pull off a miracle of his own if disaster struck. The moment of pure disorientation sprung on him without warning. He lost his breath, suffered the inability to swallow. He never wore a flight suit, too constraining, so he had nothing to neutralize the physiological strain of propulsion shift, that sudden careen when the ship alters from a space faring vessel into more of a standard aircraft. As much as he hated reentry, he didn't welcome the effects of gravity with any greater appreciation. In space, there was never really a fear of falling. Certainly other threats existed - exposure to the vacuum or radiation, loss of heat or oxygen - but if the craft lost all forward propulsion, it would just drift in space. Within an atmosphere, there was gravity, and if he lost power now, he would drop from the sky like a meteorite. That thought always chewed at his nerve-endings. He wondered how long he would remain conscious if his ship ever spiraled out of control and plummeted eighty or ninety thousand meters to a hard surface. How long would it take? Would he scream? Really not an end he would choose. Better to lose power in deep space and accept death with a moniker of self-respect than to face drawn out minutes of shrieking terror. Rath whistled a deep exhale as he focused on his mission objectives. He voiced his instructions to the shipboard computer. "Launch probes and submersibles. Scan all wavelengths and spectrums. Commence landing." He peered out the forward viewshield. The navigational computer would select the safest site and land the scout without the pilot's aid. He was truly nothing more than a passenger, the computer did the driving. During descent, a few turns brought him a twinge of anxiety, but even that began to ease as he noted the decreasing altitude. He looked over the barren landscape with a more relaxed eye. The planet Fenrir; why did the expansionists always choose ancient mythology as a source for the names of these planets? He didn't know the story behind Fenrir, but he doubted this planet gave it justice. The surface was rugged, but harsh. There was an emptiness about this place, a desolation he had seen so many times before. The absence of life brought a sense of detachment from old earth legends, not the distinguished beauty of some ancient tale dedicated to the power of supreme beings. "Rocks and empty water, always the same." Brown and pale gray, nothing else. It was what he always saw. The planets of this class melded together in his memory. Sometimes he would see shades of red or orange from an active volcano, but never green. Never. The craft shuddered slightly as the Boscon Props kicked in at two percent power to facilitate a slow descent and soft vertical landing. A good feeling, not like the violent shakes of entry. This was the soothing pitch of finding firm ground. Rath took one last look at the scanner readings. The atmosphere was close to Earth's. A small difference in the percentage mix between nitrogen and oxygen, but certainly not life threatening. Before exiting, he took several deep breaths. It calmed his nerves and prepared him for his ritual. He stepped out of the starboard hatch and held his breath as he broke into a quick run. He dashed away from his ship. He didn't want to smell the burn of the props or the lingering scent of cooling metal. He wanted his first taste of this air to be pure. After all, he was the first living organism to breathe this atmosphere. The sensation was always a rush. His lungs demanded oxygen. His face was turning red, then purple. The exertion of running did little to ease his discomfort. Still, he waited. Only when he was clear of the ship did he stop. He closed his eyes and inhaled. The quick blast of near pure oxygen brought swirling colors to his vision. After a few more deep breaths, he turned back to his objectives. He flipped on his portable. "Record. Approximately thirty degrees centigrade. Upwards visibility unlimited. Forward visibility about twenty kilometers. Relatively level surface. Rock formations in each direction. No sign of volcanic or seismic activity. Barren surface." Rath kicked a rock. Watched it tumble along a dusty path until it finally ground to a halt. Dust hung around the trail, but even that began to settle. He smiled. "I'm pretty sure that's the first time a rock has been moved on this planet by something other than the wind or water." He took delight in that thought. Always did. He enjoyed being the first living thing to extend force upon the inanimate objects of a new world. # Dr. Sinclair cleared her throat. She shifted her girth within her chair as the remaining council members came to a hush. Before speaking, she glanced down at the bound report before her with a sense of disdain. "We face a critical moment. Of that, we should not, can not, argue. We've physically explored beyond the solar system, and we can scan beyond the galaxy. We've located and analyzed hundreds of planets capable of supporting life; atmospheres identical to earth's. We've colonized many of these planets, scrutinized every rock formation, every body of water, fresh or salt. Not a single microbe. Nothing. Every living cell ever discovered originates from earth. "I'm not even talking about life as we know it. We've explored thousands of planets with various atmospheric conditions. We've sent probes to analyze all possibilities, carbon-based or other. If another form of life existed, we would have discovered it. "We've even unbounded our definition of life. Our criteria are almost laughable. At this point, a cell would not have to reproduce, seek sustenance, grow, or even move for us to classify it as a living organism. As it stands now, we would probably accept a trace membrane with one identifiable function, no matter how diluted." She flipped through the report as if cursing at each page. The elongated paused brought a sense of finality to the shadowed corners of the private council chambers. "Lifeless liquids, minerals and gases. That is all that we have found. Indeed, that may be all that exists in this vast universe. We can argue that all night. You can state we have not searched far or long enough, but it will not change the situation. "And this situation leads us to a greater problem. If the general population begins to accept that there is no existence of life beyond that which has originated here on earth, they will ask questions we will not want to answer. They will want to know why earth was so special. What will we tell them? "If we conclude that earth was the only planet to breed life, then scientific theory itself leads us to only two theories. We are either a cosmic fluke or we were created by something beyond our comprehension, something in the form of a higher power that defies the laws of science. I can not accept either of these proposals. And I will not listen to the rhetoric of the religious organizations if this is our answer." She thumped the cover of the report closed and hammered off the links to the display screens about the room. "We can't remain silent forever. We have been commissioned to discover alien life. What will we report?" # Completing his appointed requirements, Rath turned to his own intentions, his reward for being the first to explore a new planet with abundant and valuable mineral resources. Probes recorded submerged pockets of gold, but they dwelled too deep in the crust. Harvesting these minerals would require heavy blasting. Too much effort and too much damage to the topsoil. The gems were another story. Readings of aluminum and beryllium assured him of finding large deposits of emeralds and rubies. A little surface scratching with a portable laser was all that was needed to collect an excessively profitable amount. It was nothing he would have to hide, nothing he would need to worry about. Regency Exploration commissioned scout explorations to the lowest bidders. Every pilot bid below cost, but not so low to raise an eyebrow of some bureaucrat. It wasn't like they didn't know what was going to happen. But there were rules. Don't make it obvious. Don't scout in a freighter, don't dig mine shafts, and don't leave surface craters the size of space carriers. Beyond that, the commissioned pilot could take whatever would fit in the meager holds of a scout vessel. Rath loaded the cargo bay with what didn't amount to a drop of water compared to an ocean as to what remained. He looked back at the barren landscape and thought of the riches he was leaving behind. One trip with a double freighter and he could retire; no more flights, no more atmospheric entries. He thought of changing the data, classifying the planet as inhospitable. It wouldn't work. They'd find him out, take his wealth, and rescind his scouting license. Still, the idea remained enticing. Regency was becoming so disjointed with its growing colonies; it was already dealing with maverick planets and rebellions. Rumors had spread of marauders taking over more than one habitable world. There was even word of a scout named Angelo that had taken over a planet. He never reported back, just kept mining platinum and radium fuel until he was able to buy his own mercenary force. Rath wondered how many other scouts chose the path of pirating and looting, how many other planets moved toward open rebellion. As he looked over the vast and vacant landscape, he considered if Regency Govern might even be pleased to hear that there was nothing this far out worth colonizing. The damn scanners. That was always the problem. Regency could see further than he could travel. He was sure the eggheads in one of the commissions already knew for damn sure that this planet was habitable. He wasn't really a scout, more of a human guinea pig. They just wanted to send someone to make sure the pilot survived. After that, the process became routine. Regency handed over colonizing clearance to the expansionists. The council on colonization classified the planet based on mineral and water content, handed out initial mining permits, and finally commissioned the first settler colonies. After that, it was simply a matter of time as the landings would begin in earnest. Rath took one last look at the rocky terrain before the sun faded out of sight. He wondered how long it would take for the expansionists to make a toehold. He never returned to a scouted planet to see the changes. He heard from other pilots it was a frightening sight. They say the horticulturists begin throwing seeds down in blankets. Tall grasses take over almost immediately. The brown and gray turns to green in less than two weeks standard. From there, they transport saplings right up to mature trees. If he came back in an earth year, he'd see a forest wilderness, and the inanimate rocks before him would be covered up by new life, life from earth. It sounded pleasant, but only for a moment. The creation of the forest led to expanding settlements. Settlements brought more colonists. And more colonists meant more of everything that somehow didn't belong on this world as it existed now. The planet's sun sunk below the horizon and Rath decided to wait a few moments for the darkness to swallow the surface. The light blue sky grew darker, turned deep blue, then black. The stars glistened and the view was as crisp and clear as if Rath had taken flight. He stood out in the open, smelling the air and listening to the light breeze of night on an empty planet. He was alone, but loneliness did not enter his spirit. # Dr. Sinclair leaned back on her chair. The unbalancing of her own weight illustrated her own point of urgency. "Delays are no longer acceptable. The Boscon Prop engine has seen to that. Now that we can travel to neighboring solar systems in less than a week's time, we have come to our end. There is no one willing to accept further excuses. With each new planet explored and colonized, we set orbital scanners to search further out in the universe. Even the general population is aware that the scope of our sight is expanding exponentially. We have to make a report." She eyed the other council members carefully. "In my estimation there is but one thing we can do. We must declare a finding of something beyond our expectations. May I suggest we start with an anomaly... something which must be investigated further, but with a degree of care? This will offer us the time we need." She spoke quickly now, and with the authority of her leadership. "Before anyone objects, let me remind all of you the consequences of failure. Regency Govern commissioned us to find alien life in order to help understand the origins or our own existence. We have argued as a council that the finding of extraterrestrial life is the bridge to determining the creation of the universe. The inability to find even a single cell on all the habitable planets explored can, and will, lead to our demise. "Nothing short of a finding is going to keep the doubters at bay. We will lose our commission. The general public will view it as a waste of funding. All resources will revert to expansionism, or worse, a council of religious experts to examine the creation of life in their own terms. It will be like returning to the dark ages, when peasants viewed scientists as heretics and pagans. The debate will become simplistic and surreal over which mystifying force exerts its influence over us all." Repositioning herself, she leaned forward. "For those of you that may believe a false report is beyond your ethics, I simply ask you to consider the ethics of a panel of religious inquisitors. You may not like it, but it is our only acceptable alternative." # Rath fired the Boscon Props. Lift off was a surge of unbelievable power and still the prop gauges indicated less that a quarter of maximum power. Rath didn't mind lift off. In their history of flight, Boscon engines never exploded. Within seconds, his vessel would be clear of Fenrir's atmosphere and within zero gravity. Once in space, Rath punched up the navcodes for Janus. He wasn't going to bother with the outer rim trading posts. It was always more profitable to bring the goods right to market yourself. He edged the props to eighty percent power and noted the time calculation. He would be landing in roughly thirty standard earth hours. The Boscon Prop propelled ships through space with unbelievable fury, and ships exceeded the speed of light without the consequences of early theory. Pilots didn't go back in time, didn't show up younger than a twin brother. The ship simply became invisible as it moved faster than the light around it. It was just a matter of propulsion. Find a way to increase energy and you keep breaking speed records. That was the key to the Boscon Prop. Ironically, Boscon's basic principles dated back to the invention of the wheel. In watching a simple spinning disk, Boscon understood that the number of rotations was the constant while the speed upon the same surface was variable. He applied this reasoning for matter spinning about the nucleus of an atom. He theorized that if it were possible to expand an electron's orbit around the nucleus without searing it off, the speed at the outer edge would exceed the speed near the center; the speed of light would be surpassed. With a few adaptations, like making the fuel more efficient, and concentrating the density of the charge, interstellar travel became as common as solar system shuttles. With nothing to do for the next thirty hours, Rath calculated his profits. It was a little better than a rough estimate. He had an idea of gem prices on Janus, but nothing he could check instantaneously. It wasn't as easy to send messages through space as it was for ship travel. Wave transmissions journeyed at a snails pace, and communication required new innovation to keep the whole of Regency informed and intact. Actually, communications reverted back to a pony express type system. They could be sent faster by shuttles than by any known wave pulses. Courier services blossomed in this day of faster than light travel. Account information, market quotes, messages; all of this made its way through the galaxy via ship transported feeds. As for the quotes, Rath couldn't link to a planetary system while in Boscon Push. His information from Janus was at least a week standard old, but he doubted he would have to face any great fluctuation. His portable used the last downloaded bids to determine revenues. He nodded happily as the small computer announced the final profit. It was a good trip, money-made, but no where near enough to end the scouts. He thought about playing the interplanetary lottery again, he thought about that whenever he had to peruse the requests for scout bids. 2. Stealing a Planet Rath held out his wrist band for scanning. His fingers danced over a small keypad as he punched in a four digit alphanumeric security code. He always wondered why that was necessary. Pirates or hijackers would have to hack his hand off to remove the ID band. Why inconvenience them with having to beat a security code out of him? Seemed like an invitation for more punishment. He shrugged as he voiced his instructions to the robot monitors. "Keep the cockpit under lock. Authorized entry restricted to me. Unloading the cargo bay will probably be contracted out. Let's use the password 'eggnog'. Fuel it up and no extra maintenance. Just make a list of recommended repairs and load it into the service computer. Thanks." Rath always thanked the robots. He didn't know why, didn't really even think too much of it. But they were helpful, no denying that, and it seemed like a simple gesture he could afford. The freight ports on Janus were drab. No pleasantries; no gift shops, no piped in music or powered walkways, no decorated terminals. The pads stood on thick steel and concrete platforms. Pilots stepped out into the open without the privilege of fancy enclosed catwalks. All service vehicles - from loaders and lifts to maintenance carts -were fully automated. There were no directories and most robots weren't programmed to answer questions. The pilot had to figure out for himself how to do things, and Rath liked it that way. He might not have appreciated the smell of prop fuel, but he'd accept it for the lack of annoyances usually found in busy shuttle strips. The freight ports were always a little less crowded, always a little more efficient. It's amazing how much aggravation can be avoided when the crowds are removed. The exit ramps brought him to the shipping service section of Terhit, an intermediate sized city on Janus. He liked that size, not so big he would get lost in the shuffle, but not so small he'd have to learn everybody's name to be accepted. Only one magnorail serviced the maze of warehouses, the one true disadvantage to a freight port. He cursed the lost time, but he wasn't about to pay for an independent skimmer. He took a corner seat and lasercabled his portable to the complimentary link. He checked the updated scout bids against his own records. There were a few new ones, a couple that he thought he could win easily. Unfortunately, both were in binary star systems. He shook his head. Atmospheric turbulence was always heavier in systems with two suns. He scanned a little more, even found three single sun systems with available bids. He groaned when he requested the number of applicants. He cut the link with a curse. At the opposite corner, a brightly lit, satellite lottery machine welcomed his wristband with a credit scan. After deducting the funds from his galactic account, the machine spit out two global pot tickets. The prize was smaller than the galactic lottery, but he'd know if he had a winner a whole lot sooner. Janus had a large enough population to offer drawings twice a day. Rath tore up his tickets before he left the magnorail. Clean and quiet streets waited for him at the jewel and mineral wholesale district. No residents here, except for maybe a middleman that turned some office space into an apartment. A few pilots walked the streets, mostly freighter and transport jockeys, he guessed. A bit more skimmer activity than usual buzzed overhead. That could mean anything or nothing at all. The buyers normally used the skimmers, and were a hard breed to understand. Rath didn't take the time to learn their patterns. It was easier to deal with a wholesaler and avoid the haggling buyers lived for. He turned into a moderate scale warehouse and nodded to the middleman he used frequently. Larinov Smiel greeted Rath with a return nod and a wink. "Hey buddy, how'd it go?" "Not bad, not bad. Certainly didn't come back empty-handed." Larinov couldn't offer a chair to his friend. His office was simply a countertop; he sat on a stool behind it, and three terminals for communications and transactions. "Well, if you came back with the right stuff, I've got some good news for you. Hopefully, good news for both of us." "What's the right stuff?" Rath asked hesitantly, the lottery loss a fresh reminder of his luck. "Beryl-based jewels. Emeralds are the best, but heliodors are hot, too." "You're kidding?" "You got some?" "I got half a cargo bay full." But Rath was only partially satisfied. "What about rubies? That's the other half." Lar grimaced slightly. "Sorry, the price on rubies fell a little. They need the beryl." "Damn it," Rath cursed. He couldn't refrain from the quick burst of anger. He didn't even know the quotes yet, but he saw the look in Lar's face. He knew there was a big difference. He pictured himself splitting his cargo between rubies and emeralds, and now he wished he didn't. "Hey, don't curse too much," Larinov admonished. "You got half a load of emeralds. That's better than nothing. And wait 'till you see the price increase. That'll more than make up for the loss on the rubies." Eagerly, Larinov tapped the monitor screen to bring up the current list of bids for emeralds. He smiled as he rotated the screen slightly to give Rath a look. "How about that? That should make ya happy." Rath looked hard at the numbers, convincing himself he was reading them correctly. "That high? What are they doing, eating this stuff?" He pulled out his portable and made a quick calculation. He looked back at Larinov with a stare. "Is that really the going price or is this some kind of bad joke?" "That's the bid. They need the emeralds for a new engine or something. Some people are even trying to horde it." "Can you afford to pay me this?" "Absolutely, I've got more buyers than sellers. I've been on backorder for three days. And you should see the markup I make off of it. Both of us win." "Well, I'm not complaining. What's the quote on the rubies?" Larinov reset the terminal and brought up a new price screen. Here, he grimaced as he turned the screen back to Rath. "Sorry, looks like it went down more today. People are probably selling rubies to buy the beryl stones." "I can't believe this." Again, Rath imagined the emeralds left behind in order to facilitate the rubies. The tone was harsh and it caught Lar a little off guard. "Hey, why so upset? I know the price is down, but you more than made up for it with the emeralds." "I wasted half my cargo space, that's what's wrong." Rath cursed again. "Do you realize what I could have made if I loaded up on just the emeralds? That's the same as losing money. Damn it! Why can't they get these communications to us faster?" The scout heaved a heavy breath. "I know, I know. I'm sounding greedy, but you should've seen what I left behind. Maybe I couldn't have known, but it's just my dumb luck. I mean, why couldn't the prices have risen before I left for this scout? It's exactly the kind of thing I run into. Just once, I'd like to catch a break. And I don't mean just half a break, but a nice piece of luck on my side." Lar felt at a loss, spoke almost as if he was responsible. "I wish I could help you, but you know the deal. I'm too small to work independent quotes. I just follow the market." He hesitated; spoke guardedly as if he was mentioning a taboo. "Look, I know you're not happy with the price on the rubies. If you want to try and negotiate a deal with somebody else, I'll understand. If you package the rubies together with the emeralds, you may be able to get a higher final price. But you'll have to find a buyer to do that. Problem is, I'm going to have to reclassify you from a straight supplier to a supplier/dealer." The thought was tempting. If the markup was as high as Larinov hinted at, Rath could try selling the emeralds directly to a buyer and add the spread to his profit. He bit his lip. He really wanted the extra money, but he didn't know if he could afford to alienate Larinov. It took a lot of time and effort to build this relationship. He didn't want to have to go back to dealing with buyers, or worse, outpost traders and really getting robbed. "No," Rath sighed, "I deal with you. That's what's best for both of us." Larinov let go a breath of relief. "Glad to hear it. Like I said, if I could go off the board with you, I would. I just don't see how. If I make one deal off the quotes, I have to explain it to about six different councils." "I know, I know. It's just really aggravating that I split the cargo space. With a price like that, I could have taken a few months off, and been a whole lot more selective over my next scouts. What's the deal anyway? What kind of engine needs emeralds?" "I'm not sure what's going on, but I heard a rumor that it's going to speed up travel. Something about refocusing the energy in a Boscon Prop and more than tripling the propulsion." "You're kidding?" Larinov shook his head. "That could be great. I could have been here in ten hours instead of thirty." But Rath quickly reconsidered the true consequences. His face turned with a sour grimace. "That's going to open up the scouting business. More competition and lower profits. I'm never going to be able to retire." "We don't know that yet," Larinov advised. He spoke the words which came from experience as a middleman, making both sides of the equation happy. It was his duty to smooth over supply and demand fluctuations, to make both customer and supplier satisfied. "We have to see if it's true first. Second, we don't know what the cost of this change is going to be. If they're loading up ships with emeralds, they're going to have to pass the cost onto the pilot. It's not going to be easy to obtain. It may not affect you at all, and if it does, it may not be for a long while." "Not with my luck. Every consolidated scout business will have five or six of these new engines, and I won't be able to afford one. This is really ridiculous; I have to find a way out of this business." # "I'm sorry to call this meeting so soon after our last, but a potential technological breakthrough has made it necessary." Dr. Sinclair shook her head and sighed, as if swimming in disappointment. "While we are in agreement on reporting an anomaly, we adjourned without pushing forward with our decision. There may be some of you that hope to delay this process. Unfortunately, I must now press upon you the need for timely action. "We must select a planet quickly. I have reports that propulsion engineers are focusing the Boscon Prop charge through beryl-based minerals. The result is more concentrated energy and a widening of the electron field. This will seriously increase propulsion power. Estimates have reached my desk that a new engine is being designed to fully implement this energy. In effect, an intergalactic engine will soon allow for travel between galaxies in the time it now takes to travel between stars. At the very least, the power of a standard Boscon Prop will increase two to three fold within the next few years earth standard. "I have already spoken with members of the Expansionist Council as well as individuals on the Council of Intergalactic Travel. It will be near impossible to convince them to delay the process. They want this new propulsion source very badly, and they are insistent upon bringing it to fruition as soon as possible." Dr. Sinclair's voice activated the display of data to all terminals in the council chambers. Each member witnessed the estimation of star system development within a galactic model. Charts and displays illustrated an ever-expanding sphere of Regency bred colonization. "Here, we have our new dilemma. In the advent of this new engine, the Expansionist Council will undoubtedly increase its efforts, and the number of colonies will advance further from our reach. Potential sites for our purposes will quickly be lost to colonization. "The increase in marauder and rebellious activity is also a potential problem. As the expansionists move further away from their own center, they are losing more and more control of the population. It will be harder for us to secure a system or even just a planet if it is constantly beset by mercenaries or pirates." The terminal display quickly flipped through galactic maps. Several planetary systems were discounted for the council's uses. Problems such as pirate activity, Authority base construction or heavy colonization were itemized as reasons for demurral. "The planet we select must be within a remote, uncolonized sector, but within our ability to control. If we announce some kind of anomaly, we will have to secure the planet from the curious. A delay in our planet selection at this juncture could hamper our future efforts. It may even jeopardize the entire plan. If we are to post a finding, the extraneous scientific community will, at the very least, demand to know the location. We may be able to veil the site in the interests of Regency security, but not for any extended period of time. We will eventually be forced to disclose the location." A new chart appeared on every display, a map of a single star system. One planet was highlighted in red. "In response to these circumstances, I have a recommendation. This is a new system with a planet named Fenrir. The planet lies in a remote section of the galaxy. The closest star systems have only small outposts with no reliable growth pattern. Most expansion experts believe that only a few of these outposts will survive and those that do will become nothing more than jump points for the transfer of communications. As there is no abundant source of minerals at these outposts, marauder activity is nonexistent. I believe Fenrir passes every test for our needs." At this point, Dr. Sinclair bit her lip. She spoke with hesitancy usually absent from her authoritative tone. "There is one loose end. A scout ship has already completed its initial reconnaissance." As if reclaiming her own authority, her uncertainty evaporated like tears on a stoked furnace. "This is, however, only a small inconvenience. Logs show the pilot, a Rath Scampion, has landed on Janus, but he has yet to make his report to the regional office of exploration. No mining permit has been issued and the matter remains under the jurisdiction of Regency Exploration, not with the Expansionist Council. All that is necessary is to shuttle a directive to the Janus operatives to keep the pilot's report classified and Fenrir will remain the perfect prospect. But we must act now." # "Eggnog?" Larinov couldn't hide his amusement. "Why 'eggnog'?" "I don't know," Rath admitted. "It's a password. It's supposed to be something ridiculous." "Yeah, but 'eggnog'?" "Fine, you come up with something new every time I land with cargo. Anyway, tell your guys the cockpit's off limits, but they have full access to the bays. I have to go over to regional and file my report. You know it's a damn shame. They're just going to hand over a mining permit, and someone with pull or a relative on the Regency Governing Council is going to make more money than God." "God doesn't need money," Larinov corrected. "Maybe he doesn't, but I sure do. I just wish I had another crack at those emeralds I left behind." Rath rubbed his chin. He looked down at his portable and then looked at Larinov. "I never told you what planet they were from, did I?" "I don't remember, you might have told me before, but I forgot." "But it's information you don't need for your transaction, right?" The middleman turned his head with confusion. "Of course not, but you usually tell me where you're headed." "I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the transaction order. You're buying a half-load of emeralds from me and you don't need to know its origin, right?" "No, not from a licensed scout. The trade councils don't want us asking too many questions. They think we'll start selling information to the mining companies. Like you for example. Don't you think the miners would love to know that you just came back with emeralds? No, the councils don't want us asking those questions." Rath nodded. "So if I came back with a few loads of emeralds for you, you'd buy them all with no questions as to origin, right?" A look of understanding crossed Larinov's face. "I hope you're not planning what I think you're planning." "Why not?" "You want to go back to wherever it was you just came from. That's illegal and you know it." "But you don't have to know that," Rath stated with a strained expression. "Look, all I'm asking you to do is buy five or six scout loads of emeralds. You're not supposed to ask where I got them from, so you're covered." "But what about you? If you think you're going to make five or six trips without Regency catching you with a scan, you're nuts. The data may not get back to them for a couple of years, but they'll know you went back. When they do, they'll come and get you." Rath shook his head. "They won't know it's me and I'm not going to make five or six trips. Just one; one with a freighter." Larinov just stared. Rath spelled out his plan. "With the money I just got from you, I can buy a freighter with a landing curtain. They can't see me in flight; the scanners can't sense anything once the Boscon Props kick in. With a veil for takeoffs and landings, I can move back and forth without the scanners spotting me. I just need to make one extra trip." "You've got two problems with that," Larinov cut him off. "One, if you land with a freighter full of emeralds, they're going to question you. Two, I can't unload a freighter piloted by a scout. That's also illegal." "I'm not going to land the freighter," Rath shot back. "I'm going to orbit it around Janus' moon and leave the curtain on. I'll transport the emeralds to my scout and land that. I won't have to answer any questions and you won't have to unload a freighter. I sell the whole load over time, than sell the freighter, and retire." Rath saw the discontent in Lar's face. It was a look that actually hurt, and he felt the need to explain, to justify his intentions. "Look, I don't want to do this. I'm not a pirate, you know that. It's just that I'm tired. I'm tired of some mining outfit making all the money while I'm left with nothing. Do you really think what I'm planning is going to hurt anyone? There's an abundance of emeralds on that planet. There not going to miss any of it." Lar just shrugged. "Tell ya what, why don't we just forget we had this conversation. You do what you think you have to, but as far as I'm concerned, you're just a scout, and I won't ask any questions." # "If we are to announce a finding at Fenrir, we must consider security." Dr. Sinclair was near severe in her tone. She was challenging and blunt. "It does not suffice that the planet is located in the outer rim of exploration. Within a few years standard, that obscure rim will be accessible to anyone with a new engine. Our announcement is sure to stir many questions. We must secure the entire system to ensure that we keep the curious away. "Even if we insist that the planet's identity remain a secret to the public, leaks always occur. I suggest that when we announce our finding, we must request that Regency Authority maintain a military presence. I know many of you are reluctant to include the military, but the Authority is a tool that must be utilized." She shook her head with disdain, not backing from her opinion. "As I see many defiant expressions to this recommendation, let me offer my own understanding of this situation. When we announce our finding, the matter will be turned over to at least three supervising councils; Health, Science, and the Authority. They will know anyway. It is better to have them working with us than against us, especially since they supersede the rule of the Health Council. And if you don't believe there will be some overactive bio officer claiming a health threat, you have not been paying attention to Regency politics. "There is one other very good reason to have the Authority secure the system. They are the only force with the ability to detect Boscon Prop impulses in space. If an investigator from another council tries to intervene in an independent study, the military can stop them. "Need I remind anyone how vital this is? If our decision is uncovered and our finding declared a hoax, we might as well close the books on scientific study forever. The system must be secured, and Regency Authority is the only answer." 3. No Turning Back Despite all his previous scout missions, Rath could not break the tense grip which seemed to tie his stomach in knots. It wasn't the expectation of having to break through Fenrir's atmosphere that brought his discomfort; it was the very movement of travel. There was no calm to this long ride, no moments of peaceful reflection, other than the time spent pondering his decision. Piloting the freighter itself wasn't breaking any particular laws. He was a licensed space pilot and he could shuttle most any ship from one planet to another, but his destination was not a colonized world. Yes, he had won the bid to scout Fenrir, but he had already completed that mission. Worse, he now traveled not in a scout vessel, but in a fully operational freighter. Arriving at an uncolonized world in such a ship was not a lawful act, and his intent would be obvious to even a novice prosecutor. Such considerations weighed heavily upon his spirits, pinned him down like a bully kneeling on his chest, and he had thirty standard hours of travel to contemplate his intended crime. The freighter hummed along in automatic flight. The nav computer calculated the time and distance from Janus to Fenrir and set the optimal path through the galaxy. With the Boscon Props close to full exertion, the speed rendered manual control useless. With little else to do, and looking for a diversion from his anxieties, Rath used much of the time to inspect his new craft. The freighter cost him, especially one with a landing curtain, but he'd get the money back. He had no intention of owning it for long, he wasn't about to go through this again. With the expansionists spreading toward the edges of the galaxy, new colonies depended on freighters; needed them to bring food and mining equipment to outposts, and to transport minerals back to manufacturing planets. He felt certain that once he finished this little excursion, he'd find an eager buyer for a vessel with such capabilities, and he would recoup the large expenditure. He walked the long corridors with an eye to the differences between this ship and his scout which was in tow. The size differential was near staggering. He could certainly fit five or six scout-sized loads into the cargo holds. In truth, that would be a rather low utilization of the space. If he filled the bays to the hilt, he'd probably have the equivalent of near ten times that amount. But he didn't need that much; he just wanted enough to retire. He didn't want to be greedy; people got caught when they got greedy. The freighter offered little else to look at, and even less to dissolve away any fears. Rath never flew a freighter before, not alone anyway, and his true experience with this class vessel was limited indeed. He spent a year standard as an outpost loader before he earned enough to buy his own scout. He took a few trips in the cargo bays, but he was never responsible for flight. Those times, goods filed every centimeter of space and it was hard to find room as a passenger. Not now. Every cargo hold was empty, waiting for the emeralds he was planning to steal, and the vacuous bays offered a vast contrast to the scout ship he had grown so accustomed to. He lumbered through the crosswalks like the ghost of a saint in an abandoned cathedral, but his intentions were not so pure. He grew to dislike this ship. The emptiness felt more like admonishment for his planned sins, and the openness needled at him, a reminder that he stood alone, as if to be judged. Feeling lost in these empty cavities, he returned to the cockpit. Here, he felt slightly more at ease. The small space reminded him of his scout vessel. A few additional controls dotted the flight panel, mostly needed to handle loading and unloading procedures, but other than that, it was pretty bare bones. This was no vast control room, not like that of a cruiser or a science vessel. A freighter was constructed to move goods or communications. The cockpit was only a tool to serve that purpose, and it was designed for limited space, not for the comfort of the crew. Knowing, or at least hoping, that this would be one of his last long excursions in space, he considered his past missions. He thought of the time spent in a scout cockpit, the landings on desolate planets, and the long silent travel. He began to realize it wasn't the work that bothered him so much. Instead, his dislike for scouting arose out of the full process. He didn't mind soaring through space. In truth, he usually welcomed these quiet moments. The turbulence of entry offered discomfort, but landing on a barren planet extended a chance to walk in undisturbed solitude, a sensation he always welcomed. The problem rested in the ultimate purpose of his service. His landings simply predicated the arrival of others, a throng that would quickly destroy the peace and solitude. If he could end the need for bids, scout for his own enjoyment, he believed he would find fulfillment. But for now, there was only the wait, and the anxiety it brought with it. Rath stared through the viewshield. He saw nothing - not the stars, not the glow of a distant galaxy - nothing. He traveled through a vacuum of light, for he was moving faster than light. He was invisible to everything around him, and everything outside his ship was, in turn, beyond his own sight. His scanners were useless. The freighter moved hundreds of times faster than most wave speeds. He could send off a scan, but he'd never receive the return signal. Wave engineers previously attempted to accelerate the wave patterns through space distortions and project them to a point which could be intercepted, but the distortions made the sensor readings worthless. He wouldn't have used the sensors even if it were possible. The waves would reveal his position. They'd linger behind his ship and leave a trail to be picked up by receptacles on nearby planets. His freighter might have been invisible, but someone at Regency would have discovered the traces. He was already uncomfortable with his clandestine actions. He didn't need to expand his worries with a path to be followed. Better to sit quiet in space, quiet and alone with no one watching. # "I have listened to some concerns about the risks involved. There is a growing sense of trepidation over the course of our action, perhaps even a desire to reconsider the anomaly. There is a prevalent and genuine concern for the reputation of this council and the scientific principles it is suppose to embody." Dr. Sinclair appeared to speak with genuine compassion, an understanding for the apprehension of her fellow council members that gathered with her in the secured conference room. "A few have argued to me personally that we can not maintain our deception forever. While we may be able to hide the truth about the anomaly for a period, perhaps as long as our own lifetimes, it is not plausible to keep it hidden for the existence of this council. I can not disagree. "Those that have made this contention also assert that such a discovery would irreparably damage scientific theory. This claim is genuine in sincerity for it declares science must be objective, not subjective, that the truth must be the ultimate goal, and knowledge must be the accumulation of our activity. Again, I can not argue. "The most pervasive point of this debate defines the results of discovery. If this council loses its credibility, science loses its credibility. If we are discredited, our embodiment of knowledge is discredited. The reasons for our false report it to keep science alive. If the final result of our action is the destruction of what we hold most dear, and then our designs are less than fruitful, they are cancerous." She looked down at her own report, appeared to mutter a few words to herself, and then, redirected her attention back to the council. "Does this mean I wish to withhold our report, or to amend our declaration that alien life is within our grasp? Absolutely not. We must go forward, but we must now look to a greater purpose. "I will put one suggestion before this council which must be held to the greatest secrecy. We have the planet Fenrir secure. We have a pending report of a discovered anomaly. The system is off limits to all but our own investigators. This creates a genuine opportunity for greater learning than any of us would dare imagine. "Every member of this council has a dream, a dream to study alien life. That is why we are all here. An opportunity, albeit a close approximation, now becomes available. If for the moment we can not find alien life, are we truly incapable of creating it?" She allowed a pause. A murmur of interest began to buzz from one seat to another. She appeared happy with this, even hopeful to see it flourish. She made no move to stifle the whispers. Instead, she gently spoke over them. "Genetics and cloning methods are now available to cure diseases, renew youthful vitality, replace lost or defective limbs and organs, even in some cases, to restore life. Such methods are available for our purposes. We have a controlled environment, an uninhabited planet. Let us utilize all the capacities of science available. We can genetically alter the DNA strands of known organisms and create our own alien life. We can watch the development of a new life on a planetary scale." Here, she brought an end to the wayside discussions. "Before I am interrupted, let me make two things abundantly clear. We are a council given the responsibility to determine the origin of life. Watching the development of such a creation will certainly lead to discoveries we could never make anywhere else. This is certainly within the bounds of our charge. We also need to protect the reputation of this council. If in the future our deception is discovered, we have our explanation. In the interests of science, we announced an anomaly, secured a planetary system, and genetically created an alien life to discover our own origins. Can we truly be faulted for such high ideals?" # Rath watched the time monitor with indecision. Using a curtain during Boscon Push was as harmless as it was useless. Reducing Boscon propulsion with the device enabled, however, offered its own risks. Sensor veils were known to overload during power fluxes. In less than one minute standard, the nav computer would drop the Boscon engines to intrastellar capacity, a reduction of over ninety percent power. At that precise moment, the freighter would be visible to sensor waves. Scanner patterns crisscrossing the galaxy would pick up his ship, if he was not veiled. He had two choices, turn the curtain on now and hope to escape an overload, or enable the device immediately after the props leveled off and hope to avoid scanner detection. He flicked the sensor veil on before the ship dropped out of push. The energy shift rattled the freighter, but the spike did not affect the curtain. The ship dropped into intrastellar travel and the galaxy became visible through his viewshield. As the vessel slid along the vacuum of space, Rath eyed the landing curtain power gauges. The veil enclosed the entire freighter as well as the scout ship in tow. The freighter remained as invisible as if it continued at speeds greater than light. Fenrir's sun burned brightly at a safe distance to his starboard bow. The stars to port glistened like millions of tiny diamonds. He thought of the emeralds waiting on the barren planet, and for the first time during this journey, he relaxed. Fenrir waited directly ahead. Rath issued orders to the nav computer to orbit and land. As the freighter closed on the planet, he took a glimpse at the sensors. As expected, the system was devoid of activity. He noticed a few sensor waves absorbed by the curtain, but he attributed it to nothing more than a galactic scan passing through the system to analyze some other distant planet. A red light quickly altered his opinion, and a computer-voiced warning brought back the tension to his belly. "Incoming projectile detected." Defense panels flashed an ominous message. Magno-torpedoes were locked on to the titanium of his Boscon casings, impact in twelve seconds. "What the hell?!" His scanners confirmed the existence of the torpedoes, but not the source. All radar indicated the system clear of any other vessels. "Where the hell did that come from?" He couldn't wait for an answer and he had few choices. He looked to his curtain gauges and they still read full power. The torpedo, however, was locked to the metal of the hull and was not using any wave-oriented targeting devices. The freighter was not equipped with counter measures, no polarizing beams to break the magnetic attraction. Rath had one chance. He kicked the Boscon Props to their highest power levels without going hyperlight. He couldn't go into Boscon Push without entering destination coordinates into the nav computer. The risk of slamming into an asteroid belt was just too high. The speed of the freighter quickly exceeded the speed of the torpedo. Calculated time toward impact began to increase rather than decrease. "Alright, alright, I got some time. I can out run this thing, but what do I do?" He fiercely searched his scanners. His was still the only ship in the system. "It can't be a breakaway, can it? Who could have fired it? There's nothing out here," he yelled to himself. A thought forced a grimace. He issued an order to his shipboard computer. "Scan the torpedo! How much fuel does it have remaining?" The computer responded in a monotone voice. "Fuel load at ninety eight percent capacity. Estimated time of travel at current speed, thirty minutes standard." "Ninety eight? That can't be right. Rescan!" "Rescan completed. Fuel load at ninety seven point eight percent capacity. Estimated..." "Never mind. That thing was just fired. There's got to be another ship under a curtain around here. But how'd they know I was here?! I was veiled when I dropped out of hyperlight." "Second projectile detected." "What?!!" Rath stared at the defense panel with disbelief. Another Magno-torpedo locked onto the metal of the freighter's hull. This one came from directly ahead, and as the first still trailed, he was caught in the middle of a crossfire. He took hold of the flight stick and broke hard to port with the intention of bringing both torpedoes to his tail. Neither weapon displayed Boscon Push capability, nor he still hoped to outrun his predicament. Each torpedo reacted concurrently. Sensor-filled nose-cones relayed the position of the freighter back and forth to each projectile. The torpedoes compensated their own flight path to keep the freighter between them. In effect, the angle of escape was brought to a minimum. "Oh, crap!" Rath watched the flight compensation of both torpedoes with growing dread. The two projectiles perfectly countered all of his maneuvers, rendering the speed of the vessel inconsequential. "This is impossible, this is impossible! They can't be doing that. That's military issue. How could pirates or marauders have gotten their hands on cooperative weaponry? And how can they detect me?!" A larger dilemma rose to fruition as a new understanding escaped his lips with a tremble. "It can't be the Authority. It just can't! Why would they be here?" That, he could not answer, but he could not deny the truth. Only Authority vessels were equipped with cooperative weapon systems, and only the Authority had the ability to track Boscon wave patterns. That's how they knew he was here. Rath wanted out. He forgot about the emeralds, forgot about retiring. He shoved the coordinates for Janus into his nav computer. But before he could initiate Boscon Push, the freighter shook violently. The computer announced the origin of the upheaval. "Particle beam absorbed by starboard armor, plate 15. Armor strength loss, forty percent." "Huh? They can't get a lock. I'm still veiled, right?!" He looked desperately to the cloak monitor. The landing curtain read full power. "You are being hailed," the computer advised. "Audio only." Rath rubbed his forehead. "Play it." A stern voice issued a terse set of commands. "This is Regency Authority. Drop your curtain and kill your engines." "Oh God! This isn't happening." Rath had not set for return communications, so the patrol could not hear his cursed responses. They did offer one final and threatening rejoinder of their own. "The torpedoes have relayed your position to us. Veiled or not, we are locked on and will fire. The torpedoes are set to circle your craft, not impact. That can also be changed. Drop your curtain and kill your engines. Now!" Rath dropped his head further into the palm of his hand. He stole a quick glance at the nav com. It had the precepts for Janus. All he had to do was issue the command, and the Boscon Props would power up. One small problem. The Authority would read the power shift. They'd blast him before he could escape. With a shake of his head and another curse, he slammed his fist against the curtain controls. The veil dropped as he cut his engines. The Authority officer issued his last order. "Good boy. Now, hit your reverse thrusters and come to a complete halt. We will board." # Dr. Sinclair spoke with a broad smile. "Actually, this is a great opportunity for many of us and for many different councils. I know we have agreed to maintain secrecy, but there were others I could trust with my own life that I needed to take council. We need the help of many, and they also have much to gain. "Think about the implications, the chances to study things on a grand scale. It is not just the development of life that is important. Educators and scholars from sociological, political, environmental, and biological studies; everyone with an interest in true learning has to be excited by this proposition. "Leading members of the Councils of Anthropology, Sociology, and Interstellar Communiology have already pledged to support us. They have also put their hand to acknowledging our deeds and maintaining future discretion. Thus, their stake in this endeavor is as high as our own. Now that we have the understanding and backing of other councils, let us stop the bickering and move forward with our work. I know this prospect excites all of you to the same degree it excites me." And her excitement lit up her face as well as her words. She spoke like a child before a birthday party, ready to open a pile of beautifully wrapped presents. "Actually, forgive me. I know we have moved quite far in our discussions and actions. Much faster, in fact, than I would have ever dared hope. As I think about this endeavor, I think about the grandest steps of mankind. What we do now, we should do with the boldness of our ancestors, of those that built the pyramids, those that sailed around the earth or entered space for the first time. And just as the first colonists ventured off earth to build a new world, we should journey forward with the same conviction. "With such an understanding, let us return to the last order of our debate. We all know that altering the genetics of an earth born life-form will be simplicity. We have also agreed that we should use an organism other than that of the human species. We do not want to create human mutations, but we do wish to keep the organism close enough so that study remains useful. But we must end this debate over the proposed intelligence and evolution level of our creation. "If we are to create an alien life form, we must look at the common denominator for all interested parties, what will yield the greatest scientific progress. I concur with most of my colleagues that it would be the most beneficial to preset this life at a stage of development which will produce the most data. What will it serve us if we place a single-celled bacterium in a small pool? The time it will take for this organism to evolve into anything further will certainly span into centuries if not millenniums. "We must not make this mistake. We must utilize our time as well as our resources. We have an entire planet. Let us use it to its greatest capacity. The development of a single cell can be watched on a slide under a microscope. "But what about the development of entire alien civilization? Just think of the implications to scientific discovery if we could set an organism with reasonable intelligence into a preset society, say pre-industrial. We can make them herbivores so we need not create any other organisms for herding, but we could slightly alter our own plant material to see how they farm. We could watch their population growth, their societal patterns from infancy, but during a time of reasonable development. It should stir every fiber of your scientific being. "I urge all of you to consider what might be gained if we truly take hold of this unlimited opportunity. Think not with misplaced restrictions. Release the binding fears and worries, and let us take the grandest step of all time." # Authority security personnel escorted Rath out of the freighter cockpit and into an empty cargo bay. They ordered him not to move, and actually left him alone without a guard. Rath didn't bother entertaining the thought of hiding. Where could he go? He stood and waited as he pictured the security officers going through his logs. There wasn't anything to truly implicate him, other than the obvious facts of the situation. He was a scout pilot, he was on a freighter, and he was where he shouldn't be. If he disliked the emptiness of the holds before, he hated it now. Isolated, alone, nothing to do except ponder what was going to happen to him; he thought of what he was going to say, tried to conjure some lie. Nothing came to mind, nothing even slightly plausible. When two interrogators finally returned to the empty bay, they just stared at him. "Well?" One finally mumbled. Rath exhaled. He blurted out the obvious, trying to buy time, hoping to find some explanation hidden within the truth. "I'm a scout pilot. I won the bid to scout this planet." The first security officer basically grunted with annoyance. "We know. We boarded the scout and checked the logs there as well. We also know that you already completed the mission and even returned to Janus. Did you file the scout report with the local Exploratory Council?" "No." The lonely word trailed off into the emptiness of the bay. "Why not?" Rath shook his head as he stared at the bare metal floor. The first interrogator offered his own explanation. "I think it's pretty obvious. I saw your initial scouting report. You reported easily accessible deposits of emeralds. You probably scavenged a load full and brought them back to Janus. When you saw the going price, and you thought you'd come back, this time with a freighter. Have I missed anything?" Rath bit his lip, but remained silent. The interrogator almost laughed. "Hey look pal, you don't want to talk, that's fine. But we got you. You're not out here in a scout. This is a freighter we're standin' in. I ain't blind. Unless you got some reason to be out here..." "I got lost," Rath attempted. The desperate remark seemed to die in the hollows of the freighter and the interrogator took obvious delight in burying it. "No way pal. Your nav computer shows you logged these coordinates right after you took off from Janus. You gotta remember something else; we read your Boscon distortions on our scanners. You came into the system with your curtain up. If you were lost, why'd you run with the veil?" "I was worried about pirates." The interrogator just shook his head. To Rath, the lie actually didn't sound that bad, and he decided to go with it. "I was in Boscon Push. I couldn't scan the system. I didn't know what was out here, so I hit the curtain. That's why I got it. And I was lost. I don't mean that I didn't enter this system into the nav computer, but this isn't my final destination. I know there's some trading posts out here. I'm just not sure where. And you're right, I know about the emeralds on this planet. I figure when they hand over the mining permit to a company, they're going to need freighter pilots to move this stuff. I heard the rumors about the engines and I knew about the high prices for emeralds. I figure a good freighter pilot with some protection against pirates could pretty much name his price. I want to retire from scouting. You can ask anybody that knows me, that's no lie." The interrogator chimed in almost immediately. "Lots of problems with that horseshit, pal. First, it takes a while for a mining colony to start up. There's no reason to be out here this early. And you don't contract like this. You gotta talk to the mining company, and they don't send out negotiators to a site until the colony can support them. You also still have your scout in tow, so don't hand me that crap about wanting to retire. And, you've got a scout license. We checked your log status. You've never flown a freighter in your life." "There's no law against a scout turning freighter jockey," Rath offered. The second interrogator spoke for the first time. His tone was malignant. "No, but there are laws against piracy. And they're pretty stiff, especially if you don't cooperate. Now let's cut through this nonsense. You weren't going to transport any minerals because you didn't submit you're scouting report. That's the bottom line. No one else is going to believe differently. You never turned over your scouting report to the Exploratory Council. Until you do, there won't be any mining permit. You know that, so that ends that story. Do you have anything else to say about this?" Rath just cursed under his breath. The second security officer nodded. "Good, now that we understand each other, let's see what we can agree on. You came here to steal a freighter load of emeralds before a mining permit was handed over. Isn't that right?" Cornered, Rath spoke the truth in hopes for some leniency. So far, he was still answering to Regency Authority officers and not general prosecutors. "Yes" "Were you working alone?" Rath tried to hide a cringe, but he thought the interrogator noticed his unease. "Yeah, I'm alone." "How were you going to sell the load?" Not wanting to implicate Larinov, Rath chose his words carefully. "I was going to bring them to distribution planets and sell them to any buyers I could find." "Middlemen?" "Maybe, but I'd probably look for some end buyers, too." "You're not a dealer, you're a scout. Your status would change." "I wouldn't care," Rath admitted. "If I could sell a freighter load of emeralds, I could retire. That's what I want. I wasn't lying about that." The questioner scratched his chin. "I'm not too sure about this. I think you might have been planning on meeting someone and transferring the cargo. Are you going to tell me you've had no contact with marauders?" "I haven't," Rath insisted. "There wasn't any listing in my logs, was there?" "That's not something you would record." Rath shook his head sternly. "I wouldn't want to deal with pirates. This is a brand new ship. Do you really think I'd be stupid enough to deliver a load of emeralds in a ship like this to marauders?" The security officer withheld any sarcastic comment. "Then how were you going to land the freighter without raising questions? You know that you can't bring in that much stone without transfer permits and mining origination papers. It doesn't make sense. I think you're holding out on us." "No, I'm not. I kept the scout so I could use it to transport the emeralds. I was never going to land the freighter. I was just going to transfer portions of the load into the scout and land in that. I'd finish the job in a half dozen trips or so. I wouldn't need any paperwork. I do it all the time. Even Regency must be aware that that's standard practice." The officer moved on. "The log on your scout shows you normally go back to Janus after a scouting mission. I think that means you deal with one broker. Who is it?" Rath answered quickly, hoping to avoid any further suspicion. "Larinov Smiel." "Were you going to bring back some of these emeralds to him?" "Probably some. It would look suspicious if I didn't." "Does he know you're here?" "No, he's not allowed to ask me where I'm scouting. He can't link that information with the cargo." Rath felt good about that line. It was the truth, and it protected Lar. He also believed he convinced the security officer. "You have no other buyers lined up?" "No." "You realize we're going to question this Smiel." "I know, but he has nothing to do with this. Before I left, I even asked him if he needed to know which planet my load came from. He's the one who told me the rules about middlemen not knowing the destination of scouts." Rath cut himself short, but not quickly enough. He said too much, made it sound like Larinov was truly an accomplice. He did his best to cleanup the mess. "That's another reason why I got the curtain. I knew Lar wouldn't unload a freighter. He goes by the book. And if he knew I was going to sell emeralds to an end user, he'd be the first to reclassify my status." Rath watched the officer, held his stare, daring him to contradict this truth. The interrogator focused on a different portion of Rath's story. He might have accepted Lar's role as innocent, but he was still no where near comfortable with other aspects. "What's the real deal with the curtain? We both know you had no intention of using it to help secure a freighter contract. And you wouldn't pay all that money for a landing curtain just to keep it hidden from a middleman." "It's not middlemen I care about, it's Regency Space Control. I needed the curtain for bringing back the emeralds. If I was going to transfer the goods to my scout, I'd have to leave the freighter in space. It would be scanned by the orbiting monitors if it wasn't veiled." The officer shook his head. "What you say may explain why you'd use it when delivering the cargo, but I still want to know why you turned it on before you came out of Boscon Push. If you already made a scout out here, you know there's no pirate activity in this sector. What were you afraid of?" Again, Rath was able to answer with the truth. "I didn't want to be detected by an exploratory scan drifting through the sector. I was worried about someone tracing my path and catching up with me later." The second interrogator's eyes focused on Rath's. "You didn't think we were out here?" "No, why should I?" The first interrogator grew tired of being quiet. He offered his own viewpoint with a noted edge of disgust. "Did you really believe you were going to get away with this? What'd you think; the authority was having so much trouble with pirates and rebels that you'd sneak by us?" "I didn't think you'd be out here," Rath answered with a greater sign of defiance. "How many times were you going to do this?" Rath pleaded his case. He spoke mainly to the second interrogator. "I was just going to do this once. I just want to retire and get out of this business. It's not like I'm stealing from anybody. Those emeralds don't even belong to anyone yet. And there's more than enough for me to take one freighter load. I mean really, who's it going to hurt? This really doesn't have to go to a prosecutor, right? Give me a break, huh?" The first interrogator nearly laughed. "A prosecutor? Is that what's got you worried? You have no idea of what you got yourself into, do you? You got other problems, pal." "That's enough," the second officer admonished. He became authoritative as he gave his orders. "Send a message ship to the nearest Authority Port. Find out how we should handle this. Include in your report the man's explanation. I think for the most part he's telling the truth. Also advise that I don't want to turn him over to local criminal jurisdiction. That'll just open up a whole 'nother can of worms." "You believe me?" Rath questioned with a hint of near giddiness. "Most of it." "And you're not going to hand me over for prosecution?" "Don't get too happy. You really don't know what you've got yourself into. I know they've been looking for you. And I just don't know what to do with you. Now you just stay put. You can move about your ship, but stay out of the cockpit. You even try to fly this thing, and I'll throw you in lockup. I suggest you check your food and water supply and tell me your situation. Plan on being here for a long while." 4. Tying Up Loose Ends Despite the overwhelming significance of her actions, the enormity of her schemes, Dr. Sinclair spoke comfortably to the single visitor in her office. She explained the deception in a forthright manner, as if narrating directions from a text book, showing no indication of remorse and no inclination of wrongdoing. In fact, she spoke as openly as if boasting to her own image in a mirror. "Things are going very well planet side. The schedule remains intact and each council retains its original jurisdiction. Each researcher knows to clear any potential conflicts through my council. Overlaps of responsibility are turned over to a mediation panel, but other areas require your expertise." Jack Lasonelli, council coordinator, an individual responsible for maintaining council cooperation and work flow, did not demand an immediate explanation. He knew Elizabeth Sinclair, knew that she would take the time to thoroughly explain the situation. She did not disappoint. "My selection of Fenrir continues to justify itself each day. The system remains vacant of all interstellar travel, and thus, beyond the interest of marauders and other pirates. Govern accepted my proposal to classify the planet under Exploratory jurisdiction, so all queries of standing must go through me. As Fenrir's status remains off the boards, no one from colonization or mining will question the availability for future development. The planet is ours, and the creation of the "alien" has begun in earnest." Though out of character, she offered credit to others as well. "The choice of melding the genetic patterns of a lizard, an Australian skink, and an ape, namely the gorilla, was a simple stroke of genius. I must remember to commend Dr. Eurobian. We have generated thousands of these 'aliens' in cloning chambers and have delivered the species to its new home. We have named them Fenrites in honor of their planet, and to our great joy, the organism has adapted well to the atmosphere and the environment. "We've also had great success with the vegetation. Dr. Morgan supervised the planting sites personally. He selected a mix of plant life, genetically altered of course, which will provide plenty of varied food sources for our creation. To his credit, Morgan has developed a botanical ecology which will not overtake the planet, but remain almost static. Over seventy percent of the land mass on Fenrir will remain barren, with no sign of plant life. This will provide the needed explanation as to why initial satellite scans failed to pick up any signs of life. In such a vast area of desert, no one will question the oversight. If anything, the scientific community as a whole will insist on more sensitive search methods equipment for the future. Another benefit to our cause." She paused and whispered a personal note into her portable. She wanted to remember to ask the Exploratory Council for greater funding. It was a request that she knew would be met. "As for our main focus, we have carefully deposited the Fenrites upon different regions of the planet. We will be able to measure the impact of climate as well as the availability of resources. Fenrir has climates as varied as our own earth, but due to the lesser inclination of the planet's axis, the changes in seasons are less drastic. It will still be interesting to see how the colonies placed closer to the poles will fare. "We will also be able to weigh the influences of neighbors. Some colonies are quite isolated while others have close contiguous settlements. It will be interesting to see if the Fenrites compete for resources or if they develop alliances. It has been theorized that communication will depend initially upon the dominant instincts of the gorilla, but eventually, Dr. Eurobian believes the organism will slowly develop a language similar to New English as that was the base dialect used in the brain wave infusion. We did, however, introduce slight physical changes between some of the different colonies to establish a pattern of racial distinctions. Sociologists are eager to see if such alterations will create warring factions. Everyone is most enthused. I knew as we moved further into this experiment, we would create numerous opportunities for scientific advancement." Here, Dr. Sinclair folded her hands together and began to search a little harder for the words that previously flowed so easily. She wanted to accent the justification for her next declaration. "Now, we couldn't just dump an unintelligent life form on this planet and expect to learn anything of true consequence. We wanted to create something worth our efforts, worth study. The genetic operation expanded the brain size. While the Fenrites grew in the cloning chambers, we used brain-wave technology to implant basic knowledge of certain skills. In effect, we brought the so-called alien up to a level of development equal to that of our own pre-industrial age. For example, we expected the first batch to understand the need for agriculture, and each new colony has indeed displayed an instinct to farm. Quite reassuring to know we won't have to watch the plodding development of such rudimentary innovations as fire and the wheel. "Some may say we have gone too far, but I disagree. This is just another experiment. We are controlling the parameters, analyzing variables, introducing our own criterion; doing all of this to understand our own origins. This is science in its purest form." She settled back into a more comfortable tone and continued by acknowledging actual disagreement within the council. "I must admit, we are not without problems. There is still a debate about the ocean and whether or not to introduce altered forms of fish or mammals. There was also an argument over introducing germs, bacteria and viruses in exact replica of our own. It had to be done. We could not risk mutating viruses, but we could also not have the Fenrites unexposed to common germs. We must have the opportunity to bring our people to the planet for closer study of this new civilization. We can't be concerned with the transmission of a simple virus which might decimate the Fenrites before they can develop their own immunities. Unfortunately, some of my colleagues believe this may be the key to our undoing. They still worry about being discovered. "I don't mean to bore you with such details. I just thought it appropriate to inform you of our great progress. I also wish to inform you that another potential problem is now close to being solved. That's why I called you here." With a smile, she came to the point of this meeting. "In truth, it is a stroke of excellent luck. It was the one area I believed we were truly vulnerable. No one was sure how much this scout pilot physically searched. But... we have him now, and we have his ship. He never filed an initial report with a local Exploratory Council. It appears he wished to steal some emeralds from the planet before turning over this information. Need I say that we can use this to our advantage? What we need to do now is use this opportunity to close any dangerous loose ends. "Jack, I want you to talk to him. Find out what he knows and convince him he knows less than he thought. Make him a believer and the rest will fall into place. I want you to utilize this scout pilot, make him work for us, preferably unwittingly. "As of now, he remains in the Fenrir system. He is under the watch of the Authority, but he is being examined by Regency health officials. I decided to use this opportunity to ensure some of the more magisterial health officers that there is no danger to the public safety." # Rath didn't like the health officers constantly pricking him with needles and forcing him to exhale and spit into plastic bags. He wanted to spit on them, but such was not his position to debate the issue. So far he was still in the hands of the Authority, and though he didn't like the long duration of his containment, he was beginning to sense a way out. The longer the Authority kept him under guard, the greater his chances of working a deal. The general population didn't like to hear about the military holding pilots, even if there was a hint of piracy. Any captured pilots were supposed to be deposited to nearby planets for prosecution trial. More than once already, the Authority found itself in a public relations disaster by detaining freighter pilot's in an attempt to break a pirate ring. Rath didn't ask to be released or to be turned over to a local jurisdiction. In fact, he said nothing. He simply monitored the passage of time by earth standard and he cooperated in every way. He considered the involuntary stay as part of a jail sentence, but not one that could be posted to his permanent record. By prolonging his detention, they were in fact, giving him his bargaining chip. There would come a time when he would ask to see a security officer of high rank. At that moment, he would announce his deal. He'd keep his mouth shut about the detention, and they'd release him without prosecution. Maybe he'd even ask for a load of emeralds for his troubles. But that was the Authority and these new visitors to his ship caused a very different problem. The health officials didn't face the same restrictions as the Authority. Their power was near absolute. They could quarantine someone for next to forever, and if they claimed a health risk, no one would blame them. That's what perhaps made Rath the most uncomfortable. It also answered many of his questions. He couldn't really understand why the Authority was out by Fenrir in the first place. Even the security officer stated there was little to no pirate activity in the area. But there was something out here that bothered them. Every time there was the slightest question, they sent a shuttle into Boscon Push and waited for a response from Authority Command or someone else of equal standing. The presence of the health technicians and the variety of tests offered an explanation, one Rath found discomforting. What if Fenrir held some kind of health risk? Worse, what if he was exposed to some contaminate? The security officers didn't wear anything when they questioned him, but the health technician's wore a good deal of protective clothing; latex gloves, cover gowns, even respirators. Hardly reassuring. "Hey, what are all these tests about?" Rath finally questioned. The lab technician simply raised an eyebrow, stared into Rath's eyes, and then returned to siphoning blood out of the subject's arm. Rath read the security badge on the technician's gown. "Look Abe, I'm not trying to cause any trouble, but I think I've got a right to know what you're testing me for." The technician's voice trailed through a speaker in his respirator. "We're testing you for foreign bodies." Rath jumped on the response. "Is that what's going on? You think there might have been some kind of bug or something down on Fenrir? Is anyone sick, anyone that I came in contact with?" "No one's sick," replied Abe the technician The statement held some solace, but the tone ate away at any comfort like rust on metal. "Well, what's up then? Why all the tests? Why the mask?" The technician didn't answer the question, but he did respond after finishing his task and removing the needle from Rath's arm. "You're going to get company today. I want to assure you that neither one of you show any signs of sickness. You both seem to be perfectly healthy. We do, however, wish to monitor the chance of transmittable diseases. We must insist that you act normal with your visitor. Take no out of the ordinary precautions. It will only prolong your quarantine." "What're you going to do, bring in some human guinea pig to see if I'm contagious with anything?" "You have already had contact with this individual." The technician moved to the bay door. As he exited, Larinov Smiel entered uneasily. # "My good colleagues," Dr. Sinclair walked to the head chair with a stride of victory, her cumbersome bulk was but a veil to her triumphs, "we have Inception." She sat and began to deal out praise to those around her. "I must congratulate you all on the progress we have made. The star system is secured, the ecosystem of Fenrir has become self- sufficient, and the Fenrite colonies are in place. In fact, Inception has been reached and passed. The true birth of Fenrir signifies another momentous occasion for the forging of knowledge. Now, we can enjoy the fruits of our labor. We can begin our studies and watch the development of this "alien civilization". "Our resources are many. Even the Authority is now assisting us in scanning the planet. I assure you that the scans began only after the colonies were in place. The Authority has no record of pre-Inception activity. Only a few high-ranking generals within the Authority know of our actions, and their allegiance is assured. "As to the Fenrites, some colonies have failed, but most are making great footholds. They are using the land far better than we could have hoped. We will not have to assist them in the initial stages of development as some might have feared. The Fenrites will develop solely on their own diligence. "Perhaps the most significant sign of success has been the rapid rate of reproduction. There have already been a number of recorded births among the Fenrites. Further, there is no sign of any mutations in the offspring. The genetic realignment has held and is being passed to the next generation. The species will endure." # Lar tapped his fingers on the mess table in the freighter's galley. The military-style meals tasted alright, and they were easy enough to prepare; he just wasn't hungry enough to eat. He was tired, annoyed, confused, and more than a little scared. "When I heard them mention your name, I thought they were bringing me in on charges of piracy or even sedition. I figured you went ahead with that plan of yours. I thought you just got caught. They even asked me about that first load of emeralds you brought me. They weren't too happy when I told them they were already shipped to buyers. "But you know what? They never asked me about accepting more stones, or about you comin' up here with a freighter. They never even brought in the local cops. It was just the Authority and some guys in white coats. They just whisked me away to some quarantine ship. Just like that, no charges, no questions, no nothing. Just threw me in a sterile shuttle and put me into orbit away from everybody else. They poked me for a few weeks, watched me for another month or two. Good God, I've lost track of time. Now they've brought me here. I don't even know where here is. Heck, I really don't know what's goin' on" "Join the club." Rath bit his lip. "Sorry. I'm sorry about all of this. But I really don't know what's going on either. The only thing I can figure is they think something's down on Fenrir, that's where I got the emeralds. That's where we are now, not on the planet, just dead in space. At least I think we're still here. I haven't heard the Boscon Props kick in, so I guess we're still in the system. I have heard them charge the batteries and refuel occasionally. Anyway, it's got to have something to do with Fenrir. They were interested in my logs, and you're the only person I really had any contact with since my first scout. And that's where I got the emeralds they asked you about. With all the white coats around, they must suspect some bug or something." Lar's eye's widened a little bit and his fingers stopped strumming. "They told me no one's sick," Rath immediately offered, noticing Lar's reaction. He did his best to soften the blow. "It's not like I've felt bad or anything. Maybe they just caught something on a scan." Lar had spent most of the last few months denying this possibility to himself. Even after being quarantined, even as technicians took his blood in full protective gear, he refused to even consider this likelihood. But when someone else said it, he couldn't ignore the obvious any longer. His lips trembled as he spoke. "You really think that's it, don't you? You think there must have been something down on that planet that they're afraid of, something you might have brought back with you or that was on the emeralds. They think we might have contracted some disease." Rath exhaled heavily. How could he argue? Still, several points didn't add up, and these he spoke of guardedly. He whispered as if he believed they were being monitored. "I don't know, maybe I'm just trying to come up with excuses, false hope, but a few things bother me about that being the only answer. When the Authority first stopped me, they searched both of my ships, the scout and the freighter, without wearing any medical covers or respirators, or anything like that. They spoke to me the same way. I really figure they would have questioned me through a sealed room if they were worried about contamination." Lar's fears still pressed him. "Maybe they didn't know about it yet." "Then why would they be here?" Rath countered. "You've got to remember something; they had this system under guard before I even got here. If they were worried about a contaminate on Fenrir, they never would have boarded my ship without taking some precautions. That's what keeps bothering me. They were definitely worried about something, but they didn't act as if it was a health hazard. But if not that, then why were they here in the first place?" # A tall thin man entered the freighter. His arms dangled rather awkwardly from his shoulders as his long legs carried him across the floor with an ungraceful flow. His face was as long and narrow as the rest of his body, and his eyes appeared almost too close together. Anyone who glanced quickly would have thought the man cross-eyed. He smiled, but his teeth did not show. "Good morning, gentlemen," the man offered in an average, but unassuming voice. "I hope I didn't startle you." "Is it morning?" Rath asked sarcastically. "That depends on where you are. For me, it's morning. I believe I have a long day ahead of me and I also feel I have a lot in the way of explaining to do, at least to Mr. Smiel. Mr. Scampion, you are a guest of the Authority by your own misguided deeds. I don't pretend to owe you anything, but I also think you should be made aware of what's going on. It's only fair." Rath didn't mind the tone of the man's voice, but he heard the meaning. He didn't like it, and for the first time, he hinted at the lone ace in his hand. "Yeah, I know. You think I'm a pirate here to steal emeralds. But if that's true, the Authority had a responsibility to hand me over to local jurisdiction." The visitor answered quickly, without hesitation, as if he was prepared for this response. "You were not turned over because of potential health risks. Under questioning, even you would have to admit that you have been treated not as an accused pirate, but as patient under quarantine." "I'm still a prisoner on my own ship," Rath said. "Quarantine is often difficult, but sometimes necessary." "And was it necessary for the Authority to fire on my freighter with Magno-torpedoes? No one issued any warning before they fired. How's that going to look to the public if this is just some health check?" "You came in with a curtain activated in an uncolonized system," Jack replied. "Every move you made was indicative of piracy. How was the Authority supposed to react?" "Well, which is it? Am I a pirate or a patient?" Rath countered with a hint of a growl. The visitor paused, he picked at one of his bottom front teeth with a thumb nail. "I guess this is my fault. I started us out on the wrong foot. I don't want to turn this into a debate over whose actions are right and wrong. I just wanted to make things clear. Mr. Scampion, you were not brought here against your own free will. You came here with the clear intent to steal emeralds. You admitted as such to the Authority. We did not take you to the local prosecutors because we have no intention of doing so. I hope that makes you rest a little more at ease. It will make today much easier on all of us if you stop being so confrontational. "It is, however, necessary for me to clearly distinguish the differences between your situation and that of Mr. Smiel. He did nothing wrong, yet he was treated with a great deal of disrespect to his freedom. I must make it clear that it was not the Authority that was responsible for this, but the Health Council for Disease Control." The man looked directly into Larinov's face and spoke as if he knew the middleman's fears intimately. "Do not be alarmed over that, Mr. Smiel. You have not contracted any disease. Your health is at no risk. It is just that the Health Council gets rather over ambitious with their own concerns." Rath interrupted. "Hey, if there's nothing wrong with us and you're not going to turn me over for piracy, why are we basically locked up here? What the hell is going on?" The visitor tilted his head down slightly and then nodded to himself. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Jack Lasonelli. I am, in the simplest terms, a coordinator. I work between the various councils of Regency to keep things moving smoothly. I was brought here to keep this particular endeavor from becoming bogged down with inter-council squabbles over jurisdiction and administration. You see, this is a moment many have waited for. We have discovered the first non-terrestrial life form." Lar simply stared. Rath spoke out with a hint of disbelief. "Where? Here?" "On Fenrir," Jack stated. "You're kidding. What is this, some kind of joke or something?" Jack shook his head. "Hardly. There is a prosperous, thriving civilization on Fenrir. There is much we don't know, the proper councils are continuing much of their research with distant scans, but we do know the alien shows marked development similar to that of pre-industrialized earth." "What? They're humans?" Rath remained bewildered Jack snickered slightly. "It's hard to call them that. There are of course some similarities. They are bipeds; they show an amazing ability to utilize tools. But as far as appearance goes, they look more like apes, but they also seem to have lizard-like skin as opposed to coarsely-haired hides. Oh, by the way, what I'm telling you now is classified. It is illegal for you to discuss this with anyone else." Rath didn't care about the legalities. His mind was racing with hundreds of questions. "What are you talking about? You're saying there's an advanced life form down there? That's not possible. I scanned this system. I landed there. There's nothing down on Fenrir but rock." "We're well aware of your scouting mission, and I must admit that it leads to many questions of many different councils, especially the Exploratory Council. They have reviewed the logs on your scout and they attest that you did not cover up this finding." "Why would I cover it up?" Rath interrupted. He was growing extremely uneasy with this conversation. He had ideas of what he'd face on piracy charges, but he never expected this. "I didn't find any damn life forms!" Jack's face became genuinely comforting. He spoke in soothing, reassuring tones. "Mr. Scampion, please relax. You have nothing to worry about, I tried to make that clear earlier. I would have thought your greatest concern would have been possible charges over your own confession of intended piracy. That is absolutely, positively no longer a worry for you. We are going to forget about your previous intentions. It somewhat sullies this momentous occasion. In all honesty, it would be difficult to concede that the first human to land on Fenrir was a pirate. You will be remembered as a scout. It will also be explained that you were brought back to Fenrir to satisfy health concerns. That will also apply to Mr. Smiel. This has also been satisfied. There is no danger of alien viruses as we have tested both the first human to land on Fenrir and his first human contact. Everything you should be afraid of is no longer a concern." Rath was not relieved. "But what about this other stuff? This nonsense about a life form. What am I up against with this?" "Nothing, absolutely nothing," Jack stated almost pleasingly. "There's going to be some questions, but not about your intentions. We need to know why your scanners didn't pick up the life signs, though there are some theories. That is another reason you're still here. The three of us are going to make another landing on Fenrir today, using your scout vessel. We're going to recreate the landing sequence and rescan the planet within the atmosphere. It will test the validity of certain assumptions and hopefully provide the answer to why the life forms were not found by your ship." 5. Fenrir Revisited The cockpit closed about the three men, left little room for movement, and even less consideration for safety. But Jack had insisted that all three of them be present for atmospheric entry of Fenrir. Rath thought the company might calm his nerves; at least he hoped it would. It didn't. When the scout began to shake at the violence of entry, he broke into a cold sweat. The lack of space compounded his discomfort, and when he felt the lurch of gravity taking hold, he almost vomited. "Do you always get this upset on reentry?" Jack questioned. "It's not usually this bad," Rath gasped, struggling for control of his innards. "It's just a little close in here. I'm used to being alone." A heavy shake throughout his body closed Rath's mouth. "But your body doesn't like this type of motion, does it?" Jack pressed. Rath took a moment, swallowed hard. The taste of whatever was in the back of his throat burned going back down. Finally, he found the voice to respond. "I guess not, but like I said, it's usually not this bad." Outside the viewshield, the orange flares finally died away and the sky turned a bright blue. The stars disappeared as the atmosphere of Fenrir swallowed the scout completely. Flight controls brought the vessel to a slow descent, and the great turbulence of atmospheric entry ceased. The council coordinator turned to Lar. "How about you, do you feel bad?" "No, not really." Lar looked more lost than sick. "I don't get to experience this that much. I don't know what to expect." And indeed, he peered out the viewshields with a newfound curiosity. He almost ignored Jack's continued questions. "How about air sickness? Do you ever feel uncomfortable in a shuttle or a skimmer?" Lar just shook his head. "So this is no real problem for you?" "No, I guess not." Jack turned a critical eye back to Rath, but spoke loud enough so that Lar could hear. "Your concentration is not the best at this moment is it?" Rath was indeed paying more attention to his own problems than to Jack's questions. "Huh?" This nonsensical word highlighted Rath's discomfort as well as his mixed concentration, and Jack nodded to Lar. "That may explain some things." Rath wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. He fought off a final wave of nausea with a sense of indignity. "What things?" "You don't like reentry and you seem to have a fear of heights. During your first scout, these factors could have caused you to miss something." "I checked my screens," Rath argued. "I always check my screens and the viewshields. It's part of my job." "Yes, I won't argue that, but that's not really my point. You seem much more concerned with your own discomfort. I'm not saying it's a crime, but it could have caused you to miss something." The height of the craft still left Rath far from comfortable, the possibility of losing power and falling continued to strike at his consciousness like a loose shutter in a windstorm. But Jack's accusations found their way through the fear, brought out an anger which flushed his face. "How could I miss something like life on a planet? I mean it's there or it's not. If I look out and see nothing but rock, what else am I supposed to look for?" Jack scanned the nav coordinates. "Take a quick look now, both of you. What do you see?" Rath pointed to the brown and yellow landscape. His voice held a tone of vindication. "The same thing I saw when I first scouted this planet, nothing." Lar nodded his head in agreement. "This is exactly what I saw before," Rath continued. "I don't care how sick I feel, there's nothing down there to see." Jack smiled. "Of course this is what you saw before; I brought you in at an orbit to mimic your first scout. This is the same flight path. What you see now is exactly what you saw before you initiated automatic landing. But I would like to point something else out. At a higher altitude, more of the surface would have been visible. If we checked the view screens at that point, the view might have been different." Rath shook his head obstinately. "But I'm sure I made a visual check at initial entry during my first scout. Even if there was something to see then, I would have noticed it." "Are you certain?" Jack questioned almost sternly. He did not press with hostility, but he offered his own explanation with a degree of confidence. "Remember how badly you felt. You probably did check you visual screens, but how much attention did you give them? Surely if this planet was covered with plant life, you would have noticed, but based on your discomfort, even you would have to admit that a small pocket, a trace anomaly compared to the full expanse of the planet surface might escape your attention." Rath wasn't so sure. It sounded plausible, then again it sounded impossible. If there was life on this planet, he was certain he would have spotted it. Jack interrupted with a stern command. "Set your ship for automatic landing sequences, just as you did during your first scout." More out of instinct than obedience, Rath ordered landing site selection and approach. The Boscon Props shook the vessel as they gently lowered the craft for landing. Rath exhaled as he welcomed the sensation of the props beating against hard ground. When the ship settled into touchdown, he wiped the last few beads of cold seat from his head. Quiet settled into the cockpit as Rath shut off the engines. Jack stared intently at the pilot. "What?" Rath responded uneasily. "Complete your check off and take us outside." Rath shrugged, checked the atmospheric readings, and prepared for disembarking. He led Jack and Lar out of the starboard hatch. This time, he didn't hold his breath or run from the craft. He stood beside it, smelling the cooling metal. It threatened to bring back a touch of nausea, but he fought off any further sickness. A lifeless desert welcomed them. Jagged brown rocks jutted up from the horizon in every direction. The surface was parched and hard. Dust, sand and rock; nothing more. "Certainly not the garden spot of Fenrir," Jack admitted. "I'm not convinced there is a garden spot," Rath countered. Jack just smiled. "Take us on a walk. I'm sure you normally do a foot scout." "Absolutely, but you're just going to see what I see now. Oh by the way, my portable is scanning for life signs. There's no reading. Nothing." "I don't doubt that at all," Jack responded, sounding anything but defeated. The three ambled for some time through the barren landscape. The scenery held rugged beauty, but no indication of life. Finally, Jack made his last request. "Take us to the point where you obtained your load of emeralds and rubies." Rath frowned and did not move. Jack waved his hand almost apologetically. "Don't worry. I'm not trying to obtain any kind of evidence against you. I just want to retrace your trail. It's an order from the councils. It's the last step in verifying why you didn't find the Fenrites on your first scout." Rath huffed a heavy breath but finally conceded. He brought them to a small pit where he had used the laser miner to scratch away the rock surface. He watched Jack carefully, still unsure of the coordinator's motives. Jack just scratched an eyebrow. His narrow features appeared to thin even more under the heat. "Why don't we get back to the ship? It's hot out here and I'm getting tired. There's still much for us to see." # "Considerable challenges, considerable challenges indeed." Dr. Sinclair took a handkerchief and wiped the side of her neck. Warmth in the council room didn't create her perspiration, questions and concerns over the Fenrites raised her anxiety and the layers of flesh simply did the rest. "I suppose we should examine the most obvious problem. The growth rate of the Fenrites is expanding exponentially. The gestation period is much shorter than Dr. Eurobian estimated. Multiple births also seem to be the rule rather than the exception. Colonies are teeming with newborns and growing infants. "For those of you that worried of the immediate repercussions of overpopulation, I have a leading report which puts some of those concerns to rest. The Fenrites will not starve. To their credit, they have found their own solution to the restricted food supply. They have examined the plant life instilled for them and found the crop which grows the fastest and provides the greatest nutrition. They are using this food source to its greatest potential. Our scanners are already picking up extensive tracks of land utilized to support current as well as future population growth. As they deplete that which was initially provided for them, the larger than anticipated harvests will more than compensate for the loss. In effect, the Fenrites are adapting to their explosive growth by farming much larger areas of land than we expected. "This will of course alter Dr. Morgan's planned ecosystem. A much larger percentage of Fenrir's surface will be changed from desert into farmland. A small consequence. We have many scanning reports which will provide enough data to assert our claim of Fenrir's desert like conditions before this alteration. This new phenomena will simply be attributed to the stage of development the Fenrites achieved upon our discovery of their civilization. It will be considered part of their evolution and nothing more. "Perhaps even more interesting, the Fenrites show particular skill toward utilizing the surrounding lands as efficiently as possible, but with a mind to future needs as well. While their main objective is to create a sufficient, reliable, and quickly available food supply, they are not ignoring other alternatives. They seem to be instinctively avoiding our own ancestor's agricultural mistakes which led to the potato famine and the dust bowl. I would theorize that they have actually retained a far greater percentage of the agricultural knowledge planted within their memory than we would have imagined. There is little else which would explain their instinctive actions to refrain from over burdening the soil and relying on a single crop. Perhaps their simple-mindedness and lack of independent thought allowed for such absorption, like pets learning a new trick." Dr. Sinclair folded her hands and a frown creased her lips downward. "But now to the problem. We are uncertain as of yet as to the true life span of a Fenrite. Dr. Eurobian gives us some insight as to an estimate, but nothing that we can count on with any great reliance. Even if we take the short end of the estimate, the Fenrite population will still grow at a staggering rate. If such growth continues, they will eventually reach a point where there is simply not enough land to cultivate. While it is nothing that threatens them in the near term, in the long run they will face food shortages. "Some of my associates have offered solutions, none of which I can support. From the ill-conceived notion of creating a predator to the vastly more compassionate, but no less damaging alternative of supplementing the Fenrites with food shipments from our own ag-planets. I assert that we must allow the Fenrites to find their own solutions as they have already shown a propensity to achieve. Let them deal with the problem and let us learn from it. That, after all, is the basis of this entire experiment. "Food shortages may lead to other events which our colleagues from different councils are eager to watch. Monitoring riots, war, and the political development stemming from such calamities is just another form of understanding our own past. We must allow the different branches of the scientific community to observe their fields of interest. "Remember, we are not here to solve the Fenrites' problem. A problem I must remind some that does not exist nor will exist for some time. We can make all the projections and estimations over what might happen a century or two from now, but that does not alter the basic intent of our experiment. We merely must watch how they deal with critical junctures in their own development. The variations and similarities will tell us a great deal about our own historical decisions. We did not create this organism to dictate its lifestyle. We proceeded with this grand experiment to watch the internal development of an alien civilization. To interfere, even with the best intentions, is to break the foundation which is the cause for the Fenrites very existence." "Now, for some good news." She rubbed her hands together as she took a surveying glance around the council chambers. "We have the scout pilot that made the initial investigation of Fenrir, the only human to physically explore Fenrir before Inception. Due to some genuine luck, achieved by the forthright decision to have the Authority secure the system, the pilot was caught attempting to pirate gems from the planet. He never turned over his report to a local Exploratory Commission, and thus, there was never a need to intercept the planet from the Council of Colonization. We have detained the pilot for some time; even allowed health officers to conduct extensive tests to satisfy their own fears that there are no communicable diseases on Fenrir. Now, a close associate of mine is debriefing the scout pilot and clearly removing any threats that he might represent." # "Alright Mr. Scampion," Jack pointed to the flight controls, "why don't you get us airborne, but don't take us into orbit. I want you to keep us in the atmosphere for a little aerial reconnaissance." Rath grimaced. "What altitude?" "Set it for 15,000 meters. That should be high enough." Rath voiced the order and the scout rumbled with life. The Boscon Props powered the craft into vertical lift off, then propelled the scout into a standard flight path at the proper altitude. "Now, let's take a look at these terminal screens, shall we," Jack requested. "Please activate all exterior cameras and use them to scan the surface." Rath grudgingly activated all viewing cameras and the far reaching landscape of Fenrir filled the monitors. A touch of vertigo struck him as each terminal flaunted their position high in the sky. He swallowed hard to beat back the growing unease. The only comfort he found existed in the drab appearance of the landscape. Brown and orange rock formations filled the terminal screens. The desert surrounded them and surpassed the limit of the camera range. "See!" Rath nearly shouted. "There's nothing out there." He paused for a moment to let the display screens accent his point. After nodding his head, he let his anger flow freely. "What the hell is this all about? You tell us there's a life form down there, some kind of ape-lizard thing, and there's nothing here." Jack said nothing. He just watched the screens. Rath grew even more annoyed with the silent response. His anger allowed him to forget his discomfort. "How long are we going to stay up here? There's nothing down there." Jack waited a few more seconds, and then looked to Lar. "What about you Mr. Smiel? Are you convinced there are no life forms on this planet?" "I guess so," Lar confessed. "I don't see ... wait! What's that over there?" "Where?" Jack asked calmly. Lar pointed to a corner of the view screen. "That." Rath turned his gaze to the point of contention. He stared at a spec of green. He blinked, but it remained. "Can you zoom the lens anymore, Mr. Scampion?" Rath stuttered. "A little." He adjusted a control and the green spot filled a larger portion of the view screen. "Why don't you change course and head in that direction? Keep your altitude at 15,000 meters, for now anyway." Rath didn't respond. His attention remained fixed on the monitor. "Mr. Scampion?" "Yeah, I'll adjust the course." As the scout vessel veered toward the anomaly, the green area began to grow, to encompass more and more of the landscape. Within moments, the shadows of plant life filled the entire lower portion of the bow camera angle. "Gentlemen, let me introduce you both to alien life." There was no true definition to the picture at this point. They were both too far and too high to determine what kind of plant life nestled itself into the soil, but the existence, as well as the spread of the anomaly, was no longer debatable. Rath shook his head almost violently as he argued the obvious. "This isn't possible." He switched off the aft and starboard cameras and diverted monitors to sensor readings. He pointed to the screens with renewed vigor. "Look, there's no reading on the sensors. They're not picking up anything. This is some kind of trick." "Widen the array," Jack advised. "I am shooting a wide pattern array. I always ... this isn't right." He fumbled with the controls. He matched the board setting with the readouts. The manual controls indicated they were indeed on wide focus, but the sensor patterns themselves indicated a narrow band. "What's wrong?" Jack asked with a look of concern. "The sensors are shooting a band that doesn't match the controls." "I don't understand," Jack noted innocently Rath frowned before he explained. He slapped and twisted a few more controls, even requested computer analysis. "Check sensor integrity. Analyze beam pattern." The computer replied instantly. "Sensor reflection within normal parameters. Wave structure uninterrupted. Beam pattern ten square kilometers." "That can't be." Rath looked to Jack. "The sensor waves are only rebounding off a fraction of the planet surface." "Can you increase the width?" "Damn it, I have. I've got the controls on maximum. On these settings, I should be getting half the planet. There's nothing else for me to turn up. Wait, I can turn control over to the computer." He voiced the order. "Computer override on sensors. Ignore manual controls. In fact, shut down the cockpit board. Maximum scan of the planet for living organisms." "Insufficient data. Unable to match readings." "Readings? What do you mean insufficient data?" Jack nodded. "That was the first reading received by an orbital scanner five star systems from here. An anomaly." Rath barely choked out one last request of the computer analysis. "Define existing readings within known standards, ignore unrelated material." "Chloroplasts. Carbohydrates. Amino Acids. Located within numerous complex organic compounds capable of metabolism." Jack grinned ear to ear, but still his teeth did not show. "You see gentlemen. Alien life. That's why the computer couldn't relate its initial readings to anything within its data base. The most prevalent theory points to life which is quite similar to our own, but with slight differences in genetic makeup. Understandable actually." Lar peered deeply into the view screens, trying to understand the magnitude of what he was seeing. "That's a lot of green down there." "Well," Jack offered, "it's actually a good deal more than what was there a few standard months ago. It seems the inhabitants of Fenrir are going through a phenomenal growth stage. They appear to be learning new farming techniques, irrigation and other agricultural processes. It's not unlike what are own civilization experienced during certain times of new invention. They are farming more and more of the land, turning desert into the green fields we now see. We believe that is why the orbital scanners finally picked up the anomaly a few months back. If the Fenrite population had remained static, we might never have found them until after we colonized this planet." "Why didn't I find them?!" Rath demanded. Jack spoke with a reassuring tone. "We don't blame you. Stop torturing yourself. You put your vessel on automatic landing and the computer picked out the safest place. It would be like landing in the Sahara Desert on earth. You would have found no signs of life there, either. The problem was simply a sensor control. We'll have maintenance check it out when we get back in orbit. The Council of Technology wanted to take apart your ship about three months ago, but a decision was made not to. We wanted to run this test, but we wanted to run it with you. We had to have conclusive proof as to why your first scout didn't reveal this anomaly. "You see, due to your somewhat unethical decisions to return to Fenrir, some councils believe you knew that there was alien life here. They believed you simply wanted to steal the emeralds despite the finding. A good deal of rebellion in a society will create that kind of cynicism. A review of your logs, however, indicated you never found the aliens despite your landing. This, of course, created a debate as to what happened. But we have our answer and there is no need for us to worry about your motives any longer." Rath bit his bottom lip. He supposed he should have been thankful for the remark, an absolution of blame, but his emotions lie elsewhere. He stared at the growing sections of green on the view screens. He had been to so many planets. They were always the same, rock and dust, empty lands waiting to be raped by miners and colonists. He never returned to the planets he scouted because he didn't want to see the change. He didn't think he wanted to see the desolation forced into something different, something that was perhaps never meant to be, but he was seeing it now. An alien. Alien life. That's what caused this change, or so he thought. He explored and scanned so many planets, investigated barren worlds. He never found anything beyond rocks and lifeless oceans of water. He was a scout; it was his mission objective to search out alien life. Here it was before him, and he was truly not prepared for it. A hundred new questions bit at him, a hundred new thoughts confused his previous convictions. An alien! Jack spoke as if he could read Rath's mind. "Would you like to get a closer look?" # Dr. Sinclair entered the following note into her portable: Jack: After you're convinced the jewel distributor no longer has doubts, send him home. Tell him he should remain silent in the interests of Regency Security. I've checked his profile, and I believe he will remain quiet and simply go back to his business on Janus. He may be an asset we can utilize in the future, but for now, it is better if we return him to his daily routine. He's been away from his business for a very extended period of time. Offer him whatever assistance he needs to quickly return to his life as it was. As for the pilot, I'd like to keep him with us. He is motivated by money and a man like that can be dangerous. All it would take is one religious zealot with deep funded pockets and this scout may turn on us. Use your best judgment in convincing him it is in his own best interest to stay on. I have one last request. A minor branch of the Council of Galactic Agriculture wants a sample of the Fenrite crops. Two members of the main department of agricultural are well aware that the samples will provide little benefit, but they do not wish to stall the request, fearing their reservations will appear suspicious. Please advise the Health Council to place a ban on the transportation of plant life until further study is conducted. As always, treat this memo with proper security procedures. Deepest Regards, Dr. Elizabeth Sinclair # Rath glared uneasily. "Is this a good idea?" "I have clearance for one low pass." Jack replied. "How low?" "Pretty much as low as you want. I was only authorized to land in the desert where you made your first scout, so we can't land again. But if you really want to get a good luck at our newly-discovered galactic neighbors, that shouldn't be a problem." Lar perked up. "You mean we get to see the alien?" "We'll be able to pick them up with the cameras on full zoom. What do you say, Mr. Scampion? Care to take us down for a look?" Rath grunted, but he fixed on a grouping of the complex organic compounds as described by the computer. He punched in a low flight path, not the safest altitude for a scout, more like a skimmer route, but for one pass, they'd be alright. He gave one last command to the shipboard computer. "Fix all cameras on the unclassified organisms, range four kilometers, bearing zero point zero five. Maximum magnification. Display on forward screens." Jack glanced at the images every now and then, but he focused on the reaction of the two men with him. He smiled. Lar sat wide-eyed and amazed. "Will you look at that? This is unbelievable. They're like two legged, walking lizards. They got faces like monkeys, but they're all covered in scales. I don't see any tails, do they have tails?" "A few colonies in a different region have been reported to include tails," Jack said. Lar's eyes darted about the many forms moving about the small compound nestled in a crescent of medium-sized trees. Small huts of branches, tall grass, rock and mud dotted the backdrop. "This is unbelievable." Rath stared dead in the center of the screen. He said nothing. He thought of the last time he was here, on Fenrir. He remembered how he felt when he kicked that lonely rock. He thought he was alone, but apparently he wasn't. # The Fenrites couldn't ignore the hum of the scout vessel. At first, they sought cover. Some dove behind the cluster of trees which protected their village, others darted into their small huts. In time, however, they all grew curious. They moved about in search of the strange noise. Finally, they looked to the sky, to an area where they had never seen anything but clouds and stars before. There were no birds on Fenrir, but there was something flying toward them now. They watched the craft sail by, they looked with an eye for detail, and they remembered what they saw. # Dr. Sinclair frowned at her associate. "You've seen the reports, haven't you? Of course you have. You know what's going on." She shook her head as she glanced at the notes before her. Before her fellow council member could speak, she announced her own interpretations. "Dr. Eurobian, you created the genetic makeup for the Fenrites. I'm looking at your own notes as to why you elected the DNA patterns of the gorilla and the skink. You were certain they would form a societal group similar to that of the human species with only subtle differences to strengthen the presentation of alien origin. If that's true, then I want you to explain what the hell is going on down there. There have been no battles, no skirmishes. No conflicts over land or resources. In fact, our scanners show that these creatures are banding together whenever possible. Why are the Fenrites forming this kind of community at such an early stage of development?!" This time, she didn't even pause to let him answer. "I've got anthropologists crawling up and down my back, complaining about the lack of tribal conflicts. I've got sociologists abandoning their research due to the conformity of colonies placed thousands of kilometers away from each other. They say there's nothing to be learned here, no similar pattern to that of earth in the pre-industrial age. This is not want I want to hear. "Let me see if I can make you understand. If enough councils decide that this experiment has become tainted, we'll be left swinging on the line with only one pin to hold us down. It's your responsibility to analyze your work and offer some explanation as to why this has occurred. I also want you to pose fundamental questions for the sociologists to study. I don't care what kind; just give them something to keep them busy." # Jack directed Rath to dock with the Intersystem Propelled Planning Station which had taken anchor to study Fenrir. The large, oval shaped craft included several docking bays for small craft landing. Rath accepted the instructions with equal amounts of relief and hesitation. He would no longer be kept locked up in the freighter, a ship he had grown very tired of, but he wondered what waited for him in this, one of the Authority's top of the line vessels. Surely, sophisticated holding cells lined detention blocks, and if they didn't want to lock him up here, plenty of transports zoomed in and about the station ready to take him to a local jurisdiction. He said nothing, simply landed the ship and waited for Jack to make the first indication of what would happen next. As the coordinator disembarked, he was approached immediately by a courier officer. "Dispatch for you, just came in on last shuttle while you were out, sir." Jack took the casing, inspected the seal, and opened it. He downloaded the contents to his portable and read through the note in but a split second. He spoke as if reading from the message. "I have some good news for you, Mr. Smiel. You're going home." Rath folded his arms across his chest. "I guess that also means I get to stay." Jack chuckled. "Mr. Scampion, you're going to have to learn to relax. When are you going to realize we're not out to get you? You can leave if you like, but I think you should listen to an offer." The statement echoed through the docking bay and rang with an inviting tone, especially to the scout. "What kind of offer?" "There's going to be a good deal of investigation going on the next few months, probably even years," Jack responded. "Most of the studies are occurring here, in orbit, but we will eventually be sending scout ships for reconnaissance. Perhaps even a few landings and sample gatherings. That means we will need scout licensed pilots. You're here. It seems like a good fit." "The Authority has its own scout pilots," Rath rebuked very harshly. He didn't want to remain a prisoner, even if it was under the guise of some kind of working permit. Jack just shook his long narrow head. "Dubious to the end, eh?" "Is the end near, my end?" "Dubious and concerned. Interesting traits for a scout pilot. But, since you are being so open with your feelings, I will not hide the true reasons for us wanting you to stay. You are the first person to land on Fenrir. That is going to give you a place in the history books, like it or not. Oh, we'll cover up your reasons for coming back, but we'll be forthright with everything else. We've documented your initial scout and the failure to uncover Fenrite existence. We're not going to blame anyone for that. We've already proven the cause, but rest assured it is an interesting point. Anyway, even though you found nothing, you are still the first human to walk on Fenrir. That means you were the first to enter the Fenrir atmosphere, the first to be exposed to the Fenrir environment, and the first human to walk on Fenrir soil." "I've been the first to walk on a lot of different planets." "None of them had an indigenous life form," Jack countered with a tone steeped in the gravity of what that meant. "That's why we want to keep you here. Not because we want to hold you prisoner, but because of your role here. Don't you understand that?" "I understand that I'm going to be cooped up with the Authority and a bun