Skies Over Tomorrow: Constellation (20 page)

Still, Rehana viewed the developed practice of scouting as a drawback. In her opinion, it prevented her from experiencing planets and cosmic phenomena first hand. Even though being left in waiting as the minutes stretched into eternity was routine, for Rehana, whose enthusiasm for space exploration tended to land her and Vincent in trouble, the wait was in fact excruciating—to say the least. Even so, she emulated Vincent's collected disposition and exercised patience to keep her excitement still.

Waiting out the probe's flight to its next objective was like waiting for the sand of an hour glass to fall to its bottom half, one grain at a time, second by second, over and over until time wasted away and could no longer be measured, though it was only a couple hours before the surveyor neared the second planet on its path and signaled to Vincent with the familiar short interval beeping.

“So, when was the last time you spoke with your sister?” he said, as he also started up a dialogue with the probe.

“Before we left Mars. She wished that she could have been assigned to the Alto instead of New Earth.”

“I don't know,” said Vincent. He paused; the probe requested assistance. “I'd consider myself lucky if I were stationed on Earth. It's technically our home, where we originally come from.”

“Well, she's bored to death from daily flight patrols of the desert that's around New Earth. From the way she makes it sound, I can't blame her. Nothing but kilometers and kilometers of wasteland in every direction, and there's nothing to do—outside of performing her duties.”

Joining the symphony of beeps and pings that conducted themselves from Vincent's console, the com-link sounded off.

“Hey, why don't you answer that? I've got problems here.”

“It's probably the Alto wanting us to return to ship.”

“Moore probably doesn't appreciate your initiative,” Vincent said, as he worked his center control panel.

An alarm signaled in duet with the com-link.

“Hey, what is that?” said Rehana, and as she answered the com-link, at the moment of visual contact, the communications officer relayed an order from Colonel Moore, citing the recon team in violation of mission directives. “Wait!” Rehana said. The com officer fell quiet, as various alarms and signals continued to resonate from Vincent's cockpit terminal.

“Something's wrong,” he said. “I'm losing the probe. It's been knocked off course, and it's having a lot of system failures.” He worked the console over with fever. “Something's happening to it.”

“Pull up a visual. Alto, are you receiving?”

“Yes, we are,” the com officer said.

“What the—Rehana, tell me you saw that.”

“I saw something.”

Static blanketed the monitors.

“I've lost the probe.”

“Lieutenant Hayes,” said the com officer. “Colonel Moore has ordered you to return to the Alto at once.”

Rehana flicked the assigned channel switch off, removing the face of the com officer from her sight. She stared at the AED view of the cosmos, tuning out the chatter of the cockpit's atmosphere, and listened. Space seemed calm. However, having at first intrigued her, it now troubled her. “Vincent, launch the last probe.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Yeah. Launch it.”

The com-link beeped again, and Rehana answered it without thought.

“This is Zeta Two…”

“Launching Inquirer One Number Three,” Vincent said.

“…to return to ship. Do you copy?” As Master Sergeant Hodo repeated the order four more times, the last probe of Alpha Omega Nine plunged into hyperspace.

“Zeta Two, leave if you're going to,” Rehana said, “but if you stay, please stay clear of the channel until further notice, over.”

The master sergeant terminated transmission.

“They're leaving,” Vincent said.

“Fine.”

Disobeying the direct order from the colonel was of no consequence compared to some phenomenon that posed a potential hazard to the Alto and its exploration of the star system, or so Rehana thought, to which she just had to know what happened to the second Inquire One. Drifting in inactivity with her co-pilot, waiting, she hoped there would be a plausible explanation for its demise—one which would help justify her infraction.

The second period of time's elapse was quiet, but brief, when the third Inquirer One dropped out of hyperspace and signaled to Vincent its system failures, demanding his attention; and as he redoubled his efforts to resolve the malfunctions, Rehana held quiet and awaited his determination.

“I'm losing the probe again,” he said. “I can't figure this out.”

“Let's have a visual.” The moment Rehana's monitor received the transmission, a bright light flooded it, and once more, both their screens displayed static.

“The probe detected some kind of plasma surge before we lost it,” Vincent said. “What now? Of course, I shouldn't ask that, given that you'd probably like to stick around and solve this little mystery.”

“Is it any wonder why we're the best the Alto has? We seem to have a great understanding of how the other thinks.”

“Ha,” Vincent said, as he reconfigured the on-board sensors and extended the Guardian's scanning range to its utmost ability. Its eye peered into deep space. The recon team settled and waited, though it was now difficult for them to control the apprehension brought on by the loss of two probes.

The two lingered with the expectation that some indicator would enlighten them as to the cause behind the premature expiration of the surveyors; however, the sensor displays remained silent and at rest as the minutes strayed into a void, to which after the accruement of an additional half hour, the mission reached its limit—at least with Vincent.

“All right, let's call it and head back,” he said after checking the timer. “The probes probably got caught up in a comet's debris trail, or something. You know their coverings aren't all that strong.”

“Maybe,” said Rehana.

“Whatever the problem was, or is, we should leave it for the next team,” he then said. “We've been out here long enough. Let's head back; I'm getting hungry.”

“How will we explain to Moore the loss of two Inquirer One probes?”

“Hey, this was your idea, remember?” Vincent said. “You'll think of something.”

“Fine,” she said. “Let's go.”

The Guardian rotated about under the influence of its controls and set out to return to the Alto, when the sudden buzzing of the vicinity beacon astounded the recon team.

“Vincent?”

“You are not going to believe this,” he said.

The Guardian swiveled back about.

“We have contact. No, multiple contacts.”

A side monitor next to Rehana's main screen flickered on, and she watched the appearance of one, and then three, and then four and then a total of six blips come into range of the biosensor.

“I'm not picking up anything from them,” Vincent said. “No type of thermal or energy emanation or residuum. I can't even identify their elemental composition. I'm only getting faint and irregular biorhythms, and at the rate they're traveling, estimated time of contact is forty-five minutes.”

Rehana was quiet.

“Are we going to wait on them?” Vincent then said.

A few other signals began to reverberate.

“No. We're heading back,” Rehana said, and stirred the Guardian's withdrawal, with the hyper-boost activated.

“What? I'm surprised.”

“This just doesn't feel right.”

“Okay. That makes two of us.”

“You've a bad feeling about this, too, huh?”

“Yeah, I sure do,” he said. “Hold on. We're receiving.”

“What does the Alto want now?” Rehana said, turning up the com-link's second channel switch. Only the Federation screen saver came up.

“It's not the Alto,” Vincent said. “It's them!”

Rehana's hand dropped away from the com-link, and disengaging the hyper-boost, she used the auxiliary thrusters to spin Alpha Omega Nine about, slowing its momentum while sustaining the exit vector. Traveling backwards, she looked to space with wide eyes, as she then said, “Have you got a visual on them?”

“Yeah, I do. Look at that.”

Though similar in nature to that of a gunsuit, the exotic mechs that appeared on their monitors held a more organic appeal. The yellow hieroglyphic markings on the xeno that led the detachment distinguished it as just that—the leader, as the other five were plain in detail.

Rehana snapped herself out of astonishment and reached back for the com-link, and flicked on each of its channel buttons. “I'm not picking up anything from them,” she said.

“Wait a minute. I'm running a spectrum analysis of their signal, to modulate its electromagnetic wave for reception.”

“Hurry.”

“I've never seen a transmission like this. It's a raw frequency, even for the com-link. Give me a few minutes.”

“I'll give you two.” Rehana noted the time with a sense of uneasiness.

“You're trying to test my skills, huh? It'll take less than that, actually. As a matter of fact, almost—got it. On screen, channel six.”

Rehana flipped up the sixth button, and the sharp resolution of the humanoid female that appeared stunned them. “Vincent, you're still transmitting to the Alto, aren't you?”

“Sure am; they should be seeing this, too.”

The eyes of the extraterrestrial sent chills down Rehana's back. They were as black as space itself, yet their pearlized nature shined like a reflection nebula. The expression on her face was, however, hostile. Then she spoke in a coarse and brusque tongue, and paused.

“Well, that's all I needed to be the first person to make contact with an ET,” said Vincent. “Let's vamoose—now.”

The alien spoke again. “Roger that,” Rehana said, pulling on the controls while firing auxiliary boosters to pivot the Guarding on its axis; and engaging the hyper-boost. By the time the transmission terminated and left the screens of the Federation cockpit with static, the Guardian's primary thrusters were at maximum exertion, vanes stretched to the hilt, its exhaust plume wide and sparkling with shock diamonds.

“We've another record under our belts,” Vincent said, observing their velocity. It grew to match the xenomechs, and as the recon team darted across space, they knew safety laid in the keeping the distance between them and the aliens constant, which also bought time.

“Arm the Astral missiles and put the RLF on standby.”

“Roger,” said Vincent. “Holy Mother, they jumped into hyperspace!”

“This just keeps getting better,” Rehana said. “Keep a close eye on radar,” she then said, as her own eyes scanned the AED, fearful of the the xenomechs dropping back in to normal space on top of them. She switched the HUD back on for its tracking capability while reaching for the com-link, to hit the emergency channel. “This is Recon Guardian Alpha Omega Nine. We've contact with alien units. I repeat: contact with six bogeys. Retreating inbound, over.”

“Rehana! They're back! Out one point one lakhs and closing! ETC twenty minutes!” Vincent said. “Crap! Evasive maneuvers! Move it! Go now! Move! Move! Move!”

Hurling across space at astronomical velocities, beyond the speed of light, a volley of crescent-shaped energy waves shot at Alpha Omega Nine. Rehana maneuvered the Guardian into a combined series of thrusts, power slides, plunges, spins, and reversals, avoiding the hail of radiant energy that traveled on to the asteroid field and triggered several nova type explosions within it.

“My God!” said Vincent. “We won't stand a chance in a firefight.”

“Alpha Omega Nine,” Lieutenant Versius said, as his image popped up on the com-link. “Zeta Squad has vectored an intercept course. ETA fifteen minutes.”

“Negative, Zeta One. Pull back. I repeat: pull back,” Rehana said. “Have your squad hide in the belt, we'll attempt an ambush, over.”

“Understood,” he said. “If they catch up to you—”

“You will retreat. I'm sure you've lost two or three people from those explosions.”

“Four to be exact.”

“The Alto cannot risk losing a squad,” she said.

“Understood.”

Rehana terminated transmission.

“More incoming!” said Vincent.

“Hold on!”

The Guardian pulled off another series of supple moves and avoided the follow-up lob of illuminated rounds. The evasive maneuvers, however, delayed its escape; and as Rehana realized the danger to Zeta Squad, with the light blasts breezing by, she reached for the com-link. “Lieutenant Versius! Pull your squad out! Pull out! Pull out, now!” she said, as the asteroid field was struck again. The subsequent explosions and shock waves rippled through the belt. Dismayed, Rehana watched as the eruptions dwindled, unaware that she slowed the Guardian to a halt.

“He's gone, Lieutenant Hayes,” Master Sergeant Hodo said, appearing on the VDT of the com-link. “We're down eight now.”

“Zeta Two, get your people back to the Alto,” Rehana said. “Tell them to be ready if they come through.”

“Yes ma'am, and good luck.” His image then flickered off with the transmission's end.

“Vincent, how far until we reach the belt?”

“Three point five lakhs, and why did you stop? They're out nine myriads and will be on top of us in about thirteen minutes.”

“Are the Astral missiles ready?”

“Been ready.”

“Set an octal pattern and fire on my command.”

“Roger that.”

The Guardian's primary thrusters then ignited to full blast. The hyper-boost system, pushed beyond its power limiter, held steady as the gunsuit's straight-line to the asteroid belt shortened by the seconds. With feeling like exposed query in a boundless meadow and in need of shelter, the run across space was desperate and seemingly never-ending, as the retreat then became a rough marathon.