Encounters 1: The Spiral Slayers (27 page)

 Woodworth continued, “Probably the most effective tool we
have will be sympathy for what the aliens did to the Loud. We need to figure
out how to play this one to the hilt, and how to slowly release each fact at
the proper time, again, to pace the information flow so that it lasts. In this
case, it can probably last the entire time.”

“Why is that?” Lenny asked.

“A lot of reasons, but one big one is because the light from
their star’s explosion will take roughly another 110 years to reach us, which
means that a little more than halfway between now and the alien’s projected
arrival, the light from their exploding star will reach us. We’ll be sure to
make a system wide event out of it. The initial explosion will be an awesome
sight as close as we are. But even after the main explosion fades, the
expanding nebula will continue to shine and grow in our night skies for the
remaining time. In fact, the expanding nebula will be much more interesting than
the initial flash of the explosion.”

“Wow,” Jan muttered. “How sure are you about all of this?”

“We know it will definitely be visible to the naked eye and
quite spectacular from viewing it in real time though the tachyon sensor. But
this is not a natural event, that is, it is not a nova which is a nuclear
explosion caused by accretion of hydrogen onto the surface of a white dwarf, or
a stellar explosion caused by the collapse of a massive star. Somehow the alien
destabilized the Loud’s star so badly that three weeks later, it literally fell
apart causing a cataclysmic explosion. This means that the size and brightness
of the explosion that will follow will be unlike anything we’ve witnessed
before – there will be far more expanding matter than a nova, but less than a
supernova so…” Woodworth trailed off as he realized he had lost their
attention. He looked back and forth between Jan and Lenny; both were pale.

Jan noticed Woodworth had stopped talking. She cleared her
throat and said in a quiet voice, “How can we hope to survive against an alien
that can do that to a star?”

The fear and hopelessness in Jan’s voice shook Woodworth
because he had experienced the exact thing himself. And he had expected and
prepared for it in others. He rose from his chair and stepped forward, “Hey,
we’ll have the help of the Loud. And, we’ll have over 200 years to prepare.” He
waited, knowing what would come next.

It came from Lenny with almost no lag time. “Look what
happened to the Loud.”

Woodworth was ready and rounded on him, “But they did not
prepare.” He turned and faced Jan again. Saying each word precisely and
forcefully, he continued, “They—offered—no—resistance.”

Jan blinked and took a deep breath, then asked, “What do the
Loud think of our chances?”

Woodworth had also prepared for this. But this time he would
lie. The metallic voice of the Loud translator passed through his mind,
you
have no chance. No chance at all.
He hated the lie but had no choice. “We
have every chance,” he said convincingly. Then, more forcefully, “We have every
chance in the world of repelling them and of surviving.” Woodworth consciously
held eye contact and monitored his facial expression. Jan blinked rapidly as if
her mind were changing channels. He saw her relax and take a deep breath. He
saw determination replace the hopelessness. Slowly he turned to look at Lenny. The
fear seemed gone, replaced with resolve. As he turned again to Jan, he backed
up the lie, “The Loud feel that we can win.”

Jan took another deep breath then said, “Okay. Where were
we?”

Relief washed through Woodworth – that crisis was past and
shouldn’t come up again. He was thankful that it had come so soon and that he
had seemingly handled it successfully.

He put his hands on his hips and began pacing a few steps one
way, then the other. “Being so close, the explosion of the star will be the
brightest object in the sky for months, if not years.” His voice began to rise,
“It will be an icon…a beacon…” he stopped pacing and pointed upwards, “a
symbol…shining in the heavens, visible in broad daylight.” He leaned forward
placing both hands on the edge of Jan’s desk. “Not only showing the reality of
what the alien did to our friends, the Loud, not only a burning image of what
they will try to do to us, but also a sign that the alien is coming and, in
fact,” he rocked back and rose both hands, palms up, “marking the exact spot in
the sky that our enemy will come from.” Both Jan and Lenny’s eyes were wide
imagining the event that Woodworth described.

Woodworth didn’t normally get so worked up. Seeing the look
in Jan’s and Lenny’s eyes, he realized how carried away he’d gotten and could
feel his face growing red. “Anyway,” he said, waving one hand through the air
as if he were brushing away his little outburst, “we have a lot of planning and
preparation to do.”

Jan was grinning from ear to ear. She rushed around her desk,
and passing Lenny, turned to him and swung an arm out, whacking him in the
stomach. An “oof” was audible as Lenny bent slightly forward.

Woodworth, not yet accustom to their shenanigans, cringed.

Jan, with a large smile on her face, bent over slightly in
order to look Lenny in the eyes, “I told you we needed this guy!” she
exclaimed. She straightened, turned to Woodworth and grabbed his arm. “Come on,
Floyd,” she said as she began marching him out the door of her office, “I’ll
take you around and introduce you to everyone! And then…well, I guess we have a
hell of a lot to do over the next couple of hundred years.” She led Woodworth
out the door.

Lenny was left leaning against the wall still partially
doubled over holding this stomach, but he was smiling. He hadn’t seen that one
coming and hadn’t tightened up his stomach. She’d gotten him good. Again. And
it hurt. But he pushed off the wall, straightened up and, making sure his smile
was in place, left to follow after them.

---

Adamarus awoke slowly. Grace was snuggled into his back
holding him tightly and their feet and legs were deliciously tangled together. Sex
last night had been slow, tender and loving—at first anyway. Not like the two
nights before. They had been separated for over a month and the first two
nights had been impatient, wild and needful.

He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the warmth and the light
pressure of her breath on his back. He faced a window and could tell by the
light filtering through his eyelids that it was still early. Yes, it would be
very good spending some time close to his family. At first he had felt guilty
about snagging this assignment…but not too guilty, and this had passed as soon
as he had walked in the door.

A subtle shift in the light on the back of his eyelids made
him open his eyes. His right eye could only see the pillow and covers, but his
left showed a flexed index finger, tucked under and held back by a thumb—like
one might flick a bug away—just inches from his nose. Adamarus’ hand shot up
and grabbed the small wrist. “Pest!” He muttered.

Nero giggled, “Da—ad! Mom said you had to get up early!”

Adamarus’ smile grew for it was still that wonderful time
between sleep and reality when all that his mind knew was the warmth and love
for his family and the sound of his child’s laughter. There was only the
present and those things within sight.

But, the words “had to get up early” triggered a process that
brought an end of that blissful time; why did he have to get up early? He
needed to begin important discussions with an alien. Why? They needed to begin
the process of creating new super weapons. In under a second, “reality” came
into focus and his smile faded a little.

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

The smile went back into place. “Oh, I just don’t want to get
up yet.” He felt the bed move.

Grace’s voice was hoarse, “What time is it?”

“Time to get up!” Nero announced again.

Grace was already swinging her legs out of bed. “Hi,
sweetheart! Come on,” she grabbed a robe that had been tossed on a chair last
night and slipped it on, “let’s get some breakfast!” She took Nero’s hand and
as she headed out the door, she looked over at Adamarus and gave him a smile
and a wink.

After they left the bedroom, Adamarus stretched and got up.

---

Radin woke up just as the small ram jet banked and lined up
with the docking facilities. Anderson Shipyards orbited directly over the North
Pole and Radin was disappointed that he had slept though the approach. It was
supposed to be a spectacular sight and everyone had told him not to miss it. But
he had. Looking out the small view port, all he could see now was the gray
steel walls of the space dock passing by the space liner. Then the ship entered
the main dock and things got more interesting. Dozens of ships in their berths
lined the walls for as far as he could see, up, down, and to each side. Then
the ship turned and the full extent of the massive berthing chamber was
revealed. It contained hundreds of ships. The shipyard was as busy as ever
building ships, but Radin knew that ninety percent of the ships he saw here
were not related to ship construction, but rather a booming business that had
developed over the last several decades—tourism.

It had started well before the last war and Skyway
Enterprises, who owned and operated the yards, had mostly ignored it. Back then
there had been no facilities, hotels or births to accommodate this unexpected intrusion,
and cruise and pleasure ships had simply ”hung out” under the huge space
platform. Then, during the early part of the war when the conflict was still millions
of miles away, the yards had tried to ban the sightseers with little effect. When
the conflict moved closer and the first acts of sabotage near the planet
appeared, the shipyard employed security to chase the ships away. But this only
lent a measure of danger to making a run into the area and hanging out until a
security ship headed their way. And they always had enough time to escape.

At the end of the war, Skyway had new management who decided
if you can’t beat them, join them. Now almost half of Anderson Shipyards’
profits came from tourism and Skyway, originally only a ship construction
company, it had branched off into the tourist industry.

With a clang and a hiss, the medium sized ram jet, capable of
seating up to a hundred, locked into the terminal. The steward came back and
addressed Radin, “Commander, you may now disembark.”

Radin undid his safety belt, took hold of the guide rail and
floated up. Again he was struck by the ninety-nine empty seats – he had
forgotten; he was the only passenger.

He made his way to the exit where the Captain and steward
smiled and wished him a nice day, and then he grabbed the moving rail which
took him into the terminal. The artificial gravity slowly rose and his feet
touched the floor. He let go of the moving guide rail and walked into the
terminal.

An escalator took him up one level to the Viewing Concourse which
also contained the baggage claim. Here, thousands of tourists enjoyed the main
attraction through giant floor to ceiling view ports that went all the way
around the circular concourse. And the sight was something to behold. Oddly it
was Radin’s first visit to Anderson, so he had never seen it close up and from
this ideal vantage point before.

Outside the view ports, the planet stretched off. Directly
below was the North Pole. And completely encircling the orbiting shipyard, in
all their beauty and glory, were the Northern lights – the Aurora.

Radin took a seat and watched for several minutes. It was the
best light show in the solar system. Curtains of soft pastel colors rippled as
spikes of brighter colors shot up between them, twirled, then fanned out.

A lazy southern accent came from behind him, “Nice view,
isn’t it?”

Radin turned to see General Joseph (Joe) Burnwall. He was a
very short man, perhaps five-foot-six inches, but this was not what you noticed
when you met him. His bearing, ramrod posture and the quiet strength of
absolute authority in his voice marked him immediately as a powerhouse and a no-nonsense
leader. In every way that counted, this five-foot-six inch man stood six feet
tall and, despite his true height, you felt you were looking up at him. He had
short brown hair graying at the temples and dark brown eyes set in a tanned
face of sharp angles resting on a box chin. His hand came out and Radin shook
it. The handshake was powerful, but not the bone crushing vice of a person that
had something to prove. Radin liked him immediately. He also realized that
Burnwall looked around fifty years old.

“You haven’t taken the I-pill!” Radin blurted out before he
could restrain himself.

Burnwall smiled, “No, but I will and soon.” He moved to the
railing next to Radin and looked out at the light show. “I just thought I’d see
how many people dropped dead first.” His deep chuckle was rich and warm. He
turned and faced Radin, “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.” He smiled
and reached out and grasped Radin’s shoulder. “It’s good to finally meet you.” His
hand came away and motioned towards the elevators behind them, “Shall we?”

As they walked to the elevators, Radin asked, “How much do
you know?”

“Wicker briefed me, but I haven’t passed on anything to my
staff yet.”

“Good. Then you know that we have a good deal of time before
‘it’ arrives, but at the same time…”

“We don’t have any time to lose.” Burnwall finished.

“Exactly.”

As they approached the bank of elevators, Radin noticed that
one was being held in place for them by four guards. As they boarded, Burnwall
dismissed them so they would have privacy to talk. The doors closed and the
elevator began its assent. Radin continued, “Where do we stand right now?”

“Three hundred and two officers and crew qualified on the
Leviathan are all here.” Radin looked over in surprise. Seeing this, Burnwall
squinted his eyes, “I don’t fool around, Captain.”