Allies At Last?

story

Two hundred and twenty-seven years. Captain Stuart Bing reviewed his calendar and sighed. The generational ship Woebegon had departed from Earth two hundred and twenty-seven years ago today, and what did he have to show for it? Nothing. No Earth colony, no potentials, no allies. Well, there could have been allies, but that was before his time. All he knew he got from the official record, and the record stated that of the three thousand, seven hundred and nineteen worlds the Woebegon has visited since it left Earth's shores, not one has been suitable for colonization. Actually, four had been perfectly suited for human life but already had civilizations on them. The details were a little sketchy but the ship left each world without alliances, either.

Captain Bing had to give his annual State Of The Ship address today, his twenty-seventh, and was tired of repeating himself every year: "We have visited x worlds this last year. None of them were able to sustain human life. Keep your fingers crossed."

He called the Navigator. "Nicky, anything to report?"

"Captain, solar system XP-3720 is a week away."

He had to ask. "Any potentials?"

"Possibly one, but it looks squirrely."

"Squirrely?"

"There's a mess orbiting the planet, looks like satellites and old junk, indicating potential civilization."

"Do you observe any power readouts, Nicky? It could just be natural debris."

"We're still too far away, Stu. Hey, are we still gonna knock a few back after your speech tonight?"

"We'll see how it goes... I could be running for my life after tonight's address."

"Not likely. They adore you, Stu."

"About that planet-- keep me in the loop, Nicky."

"Will do, Cap. You can count on me. Navigator Nicky Gage signing off."

Bing sighed again. It was a large ship, enormous really-- it took ten days to walk bow to stern and three from port to starboard-- but that didn't stop him from learning every inch of it in his long forty-five year life. The sports deck kept him fit-- he paid regular visits to Shea Stadium complex, the Astrodomes and the AMF Bowling Center, but was bored nonetheless. Even the Five Rings Olympic Swimming Pool, with all the lovely skin showing, couldn't get a rise out of him.

Today was worst of all. This was the day when everyone hoped for some good news. Although they had an Ocean deck, with miles of foamy surf and sandy beaches and an artificial sun traveling through a brilliant blue sky, residents of Woebegon wanted the real thing. They ached to walk on real ground, to play golf on real grass instead of the grass at Pebble Beach professional course (which was real grass of course, but somehow didn't feel the same, even though nobody alive on the ship had ever walked on Earth or its grass).

There was a tangible dissatisfaction with the Tangiers drive-in movie theater on the always-night deck that only had 450,000 movie choices, even though you could watch any of those movies whenever you visited, regardless of what the next car was watching. Even the temptation of watching any show broadcast in television's three hundred year history grew dull. People were tired of every food on the Restaurant deck, whether it was McDonalds or Yamashiro, Gepetto's or Acapulco, Hui-Shan or El Pollo Loco or the Seafarer or any of the other million establishments that served every food ever prepared on Earth; passengers were even disinterested in the food they had never even tried.

Even the congregations of Religious deck were dwindling, no matter what papal authorities tried to bring them back. Bingo was a bust. Mass wedding day only brought two couples, and one of those were just renewing their vows, and only then because it was in the regulations. Mega Mohelim in the Temple Emmanuel Beth David Hillel stood idly around, knives rusting. Barbers shaved each other to keep busy; the general populace grew long of face. It was a mutinous environment, and Captain Bing was no stranger to this particular form of misery.

It was ennui.

Back on Earth, one simply had to go on an adventure to battle ennui; just get away from the drudgery of your life and open yourself up to an entirely new experience. But on a finite world like a generational ship, even one as large as Woebegon, ennui was commensurate with death. There was something about having nothing left to learn which brought about suicide, and the Captain had to act quickly to prevent shipwide eradication. He wondered if that had also been a problem for God, because He was the original Knower Of All. If it was an issue for Him, then how did He in His infinite wisdom combat it?

Without knowing the answer, it fell on Captain Bing's shoulders to find a solution to this problem. Earth's very survival depended on finding a suitable place for humans to emigrate after polluting their own planet into near destruction-- little arable land, little breathable atmosphere, rapidly rising temperatures. Technology was all which stood between them and extinction. Now humanity lived in vast underground caverns, all except for the crew and passengers of the generational ships. Human 'Cave Rats' tapped geothermal energy to make power for lights to grow the tremendous gardens that ensured their survival. When the ships, twenty-four in all, left Earth to literally find greener pastures there was no guarantee that when they finally returned there would be anybody left to rescue.

The ship was immense, there was no doubt. Half the decks were unused because the population hadn't swelled to fill them yet and that gave the Captain, much to his relief, an idea on how to cure the malaise which descended like a murky gray cloud over the population. He got back to work with a spring in his step. "Engineer, report!"

"Ship's Engineer reporting all 8300 engines nominal, fuel holding at 98%."

"I want a safety drill in engine room fire suppression set for 0900 tomorrow."

"Aye aye, captain! Ship's Engineer Lucas Stello signing off."

At least he could keep his crew occupied and stave off the sadness with good, hard work. He wished he could order the passengers around in the same fashion, but it seemed they all preferred ordering him around, apparently mistaking his uniform for that of a maitre d'.

"Long view room reporting, Captain."

Ah! The captain smiled. Maybe Johnny saw something on the macroscope, good news hopefully. The ship needed excitement, that's for sure. Maybe not as much excitement as when a meteor struck the Woebegon fifty years ago... but something to stir up the troops and cause some excitement. The meteor had ripped a corner off the ship that day. It was fortunate not many people lived in that part; it had become exposed to the harsh environment of space and took Autorepairing Nanometal half a day to close it up and another half day to restore to original strength, impressive since the hole had been thousands of feet across.

"Captain, we have confirmed an Earth-type planet, 1.006 size variance, 60:40 water/land ratio, 23% oxygen, 358 day revolution... a 98% match! And sir... it looks unoccupied!"

Unoccupied! Could he dare to dream? Two hundred twenty seven years had gone by and none of the previous ten captains had heard those words before! Cautiously he asked, "Are you certain, Crewman Walkerblack? This is what we've been waiting for... but it'll stir the pot something fierce if you're wrong."

"I'll have to wait until we get closer, Captain, but all the signals are coming up green. All but one-- but I think the gauge is broken."

The captain froze, squinted. "Which one?"

"I really should double check the gauge, sir. I wouldn't want rumors to spread."

"Crewman!"

"Scenario U, sir."

"Dammit!"

"Aye, sir. Consider it damned."

"I want to know immediately when the information is confirmed, Crewman. No point in upsetting anyone until we know for sure-- there can often be another explanation. Captain out."

He cursed silently. Scenario U-- what were the odds? Well, it didn't matter... if this planet was truly a Viable, it would be claimed by Earth regardless of consequences. The survival of humanity hung in the balance.

Scenario U was declared when a world suitable for human habitation is found but is being used by another species, one for which the planet is hostile, but who uses protective gear or robotic machinery or slave labor to strip its resources. It can be a delicate matter to colonize a planet in that unusual situation, but Captain Bing was authorized to offer lucrative trades to the other civilization to make it happen. In the event of negotiations failure, he was authorized to use any means necessary to acquire the planet, and a lethal arsenal studding the surface of the Woebegon made his job easier, albeit harder to justify.

A call came in from Liberty Racci, the passenger coordinator of tonight's gala affair preceding the Captain's State of The Ship address. She was a tall, opulently dressed woman whose clothing always looked as though it had merged with a chandelier and whose style of speech involved grand, sweeping gestures and ornate polysyllabic words. Nonetheless, she had a real flair for the eloquent and outfitted the ballroom as though royalty were attending.

"Captain, a momentary conversation, respectfully?"

"Yes, Libby?"

"The provisions are vitriol and the orchestra, uncommunicative and amateurish. I am absolutely flummoxed. Flummoxed!"

The Captain sighed. "What's wrong with the food, Libby?"

"It is reminiscent of fetid excrement."

"Are you saying it smells like shit?"

"Indubitably."

"I have it on good authority that the lobster and shrimp are freshly caught. Are you sure you're not just smelling the briny sea?"

"That is plausible. Complaint retracted."

At least she was fair! "And the band?"

"Afflicted with obstinacy. Suffering from ignorance. Shameful! Mortifying!"

"Why?"

"They're unable to master Rachmaninoff's symphonic concerto in A Minor!"

"So pick another one. Maybe one they already know?"

"Ah! Fine application of logic, Captain. You are certainly outfitted for your position." And she hung up.

"You're welcome," he said to into the empty phone. He left his command and walked the half mile to the observation deck-- he needed the walk, and he needed the Universe's immensity to help him focus. Two hours later he awoke to the soft beeping of his lapel communicator, having 'focused' clearly on his sleeping.

"Yes?"

"Captain, where have you been?" It was his second in command, First Officer David 'Hazel' Hoffs.

The captain checked the time. "Just taking a little personal breather, Haze. I've got time before the address. No use getting your boxers in a bunch."

"I don't wear boxers-- it's not that, sir. We've received a message!"

A message? The captain was hopeful. It had been dozens of years since they had received a message from Earth, which was understandable considering they couldn't communicate unless Earth knew exactly where they were. But it was decided long ago that if any of the generational ships found a suitable new planet, the ship would contact Earth, and Earth would transmit a wide signal and contact all other ships to rendezvous at the new planet. But hope could crush a person, and the captain was not the hopeful type. "What news comes from Earth?"

"It's not from Earth, sir! It seems to have come from a planet in system XP-3720, the star we're en route to visit!"

"I'll be right there." This was big! The captain entered a laterator and exited at Command moments later, tracking down the First Officer. "Let me hear that message, Haze."

"Coming right up." He punched a few keys and the room boomed in a voice not terribly inhuman:

"Colossal space ship heading towards Leesha, you have entered Leeshan space. We will meet your craft shortly."

The captain mulled over that message for awhile. It was not threatening, not yielding. It gave away almost no information, except that they thought the Woebegon was 'colossal'. Well, it was-- at four hundred miles long and a hundred miles in diameter, there was no secret there. Also, the message gave away that some culture had claimed the space around the planet as their own. That could be a problem. But there were no signs of civilization on the surface, no power signatures... so what were they doing there?

Ach! The captain spat. There were too many variables to decide reliably. He'd have to wait and see what this meeting would be about. Fortunately, he wasn't kept waiting very long.

Long View room called in. "Captain! Small craft heading our direction, very fast! ETA 3 hours... no, 2:45... no. This is frustrating, the speed keeps fluctuating. It should be here soon. Will inform."

He flashrode over to the Long View room, some eighty miles distant at the bow and was there in moments; he wanted to see for himself. "Crewman Walkerblack, relinquish the Macroscope."

Obediently his underling stepped away with a barely noticeable nod. The Captain inserted his head into the rubbery black flange and was momentarily overloaded until his brain sorted out fact from fiction. Then he was out in the blackness of space, floating among the stars.

With a thought he dashed through the vast distances of space and quickly found the approaching craft. Small, he thought, and an odd color. Not white, not gray, the ship's edges seemed indistinct, cloudy. He could make out no writing or identifying marks on the exterior, nor anything resembling windows. But it was fast and getting faster, was heading directly for the Woebegon, and would soon reach the minimum safe distance for braking or course adjustment, or face collision.

"I need to communicate with that ship, and now!" the Captain barked, and heard the familiar duotone that indicated an open line. "Alien craft, you are approaching at too steep a vector. Break off approach now to avoid collision." He waited, and was about to repeat his message when a crackle in his ear said:

"Cannot slow down, caught in your gravity well. Making peace with our gods. Regrets, regrets for undesirable impact."

They clicked off. The Captain wasted no time. "Engine room, full reverse! Helmsman, hard starboard 30 degrees! First mate, begin evacuation of sections 43,000 through 197,000 on all decks! Repulsion room, set maximum bounce beam for 32.4 x 11.1 x 9.8 and fire on my mark! Gunnery, stand by!" He wasn't going to sit around and do nothing while this little spacecraft didn't have the juice to get out from under his giant ship's powerful gravitational pull. "Repulsion room... Mark!"

Two beams of magnetic plasma shot out from cannons in the forward turret and bent each other's trajectory, creating a curved slide to nudge the oncoming ship away from the Woebegon. The oddly hazy ship approached at an oblique angle and... passed straight through, as though the beams had no substance, instead of the rubbery solidity most rescued crafts felt. The little vessel shot unfettered towards the belly of the great ship. The Captain had no choice. He ordered all guns on the craft.

"We mean you no harm," came a plea. "Please do not shoot us down."

The Captain replied sadly, "I'm sorry-- so many lives are at stake. We are on a mission of desperation, taking the last of our doomed world's people to find a new home in the stars." With that he gave the order to fire.

Flashes lit up the black as rockets launched and lasers roared at the target. Explosions were everywhere, crafting a miniature nebula of dust and smoke and fire. The Captain's eyes grew round when he saw the craft punching through the explosive din, undamaged and moving faster than before. He sounded general quarters; red lights came up and klaxons in every part of the ship rang, loud and insistent, like his voice.

"This is the Captain. Prepare for impact. I repeat, prepare for impact. Return to your quarters. Prepare for impact. Impact in 10, 9, 8..."

Screaming could be heard as passengers primed themselves to die. The Captain knew the great ship would survive but held out less hope for many of the people caught near the breach. Explosive decompression was forever a danger in space. He wondered if these aliens were violent or kind, and what message they had been bringing to the ship. He couldn't be certain if this was a legitimate emergency or just a scheme the aliens cooked up to Trojan Horse their way in. He finished the countdown as he watched the blurry ship grow mortally close: "3... 2... 1... Contact!" and the ship crashed into Woebegon, smashing through thousands of decks on its way to the gravitational center of the ship. It slowed and finally came to rest just beyond deck One.

But what had happened? The Captain saw full well the craft impact his ship, but he heard no noise, felt no shudder. And one look outside confirmed that there was no damage. Inside the story was the same as well. The craft sat in the middle of Woebegon, undamaged, with all of the great ship undamaged around it!

A crowd was beginning to form. The ship's crew did their best to keep the nosiest at bay as the Captain Flashrode to the forefront, approaching where the craft now lay. But it wasn't laying, exactly. It was within the deck floor, and seemed to be hovering, trembling ever so slightly. Standing up close now, the Captain could see the ship's edges still seemed, well, murky. The ship was a teardrop shape that could hold perhaps 50 humans. The Captain put his hand up to the craft, and despite warnings from his crew, touched it.

Or tried to, for when his hand reached the murky skin it seemed to pass right through! It was as if the entire craft had no more resistance than a cloud! The Captain took an experimental step forward, and his body disappeared into parts of the ship. He took a few more steps, his feet still solidly on the Woebegon's deck plate, and now all of him was inside the alien vessel! He stood right on their bridge and became the first human to see this race of people! He was actually relieved to see the looks of fear on their faces (yes, they had faces). They were actually very similar to humanoids; about the same height and proportion; two eyes, ears, a nose and mouth; ten fingers... they were far more similar than different. He looked around at them and asked, "Was anyone hurt? Do you need medical assistance?"

One of them walked slowly up to the Captain, looked at him thoughtfully and said, "Everyone is undamaged, but even if we were hurt, how would you be able to help? You and your ship seem to be intangible!"

The Captain stared at the other, presumably also the Captain of his vessel, for a long moment. Then he broke into gales of laughter, much to the confusion of the aliens. When he finally stopped he explained, "I was just about to say the same thing to you!"

Outside the vessel, people were growing impatient. They had watched Captain Bing walk through the vessel wall and disappear almost an hour ago, and were beginning to voice concern when just like that he popped back out again and joined the crowd. With a roar, the alien ship fired its engines; a great fiery lick of flame engulfed the crowd harmlessly as the insubstantial ship turned and moved out of the the Woebegon. Just like that, it was gone. The Captain addressed the sizable crowd simply. "Hear my words at the State Of The Ship address in an hour. You won't want to miss them." And with that, he Flashrode to his quarters to prepare.

"Good Citizens Of Earth, welcome to the two hundred and twenty seventh State Of The Ship address. I am Captain Stu Bing, and this is not the Love Boat."

Despite the earlier panic, the joke went over well in the vast eighty million seat Hall of Meetings. Presumably those listening in their quarters or elsewhere enjoyed it as well, the Captain believed. "I would not be surprised if there was not a person on this ship who was not aware of our recent near miss, and its astonishing outcome. I swear, that is only the tip of the iceberg. For I met with the inhabitants of the small craft which, for lack of a better term, intersected with ours today.

"The name of their people is the Leeshan, and they are humanoid, like ourselves. Their home is Leesha, the planet we are approaching. They are peaceful, intelligent, cooperative and welcoming of other species who espouse the same philosophy. Until today, neither of our species had ever met intangibles, which is what we are to each other-- for reasons uncertain to either race, we have no effect on them, or they us, although in space we can both see and hear each other.

"However, on the planet's surface we cannot. And that, dear friends, is the rest of the iceberg: They have invited us to share their planet, all of us, all humanity spread all over the galaxy! To us, the beautiful world of Leesha is unspoiled-- verdant country, abundant wildlife, clean water.

"We may build our lavish cities and efficient transportation and exciting sports parks-- whatever we make will go unseen by the Leeshan, just as their many millennia of civilized construction will be invisible to us. For us the planet's resources are unspoiled and unused, even as on the Leeshan side, some of those same resources have been fully excavated.

"For whatever reason, this magnificent world can host two advanced species who will never crowd each other, never bother each other, never get in each other's way, but who may see and hear each other any time by using orbiting satellites, and in that way we may remain, quite literally, the closest of friends.

"The word has been sent to Earth; they will respond if they can, and send our location to the other ships. It may take centuries, but our people will finally be as one. And for this, our undying thanks shall go to the Leeshan, our friends and allies, at last."

Nicky Gage stood by the Captain and whispered, "So... not Scenario U?"

The Captain replied, "Not Scenario U."

Copyright 2009 Bruce Ian Friedman