Most of the aliens were in the seated area in the specially adapted tank and we had linked our probe video monitor to a large computer monitor so that they could watch the probe’s progress.
Entering the atmosphere went well. The parachutes opened and the first views of the surface from the probe appeared on the monitors. Spaceflight was such a novel experience for the Heradians that it was not surprising when we heard a collective ‘wow’ coming through the docking tunnel.
They had, however, archive footage from their early space adventures so the scene they were viewing was also depressing, the greyness having replaced the colours of trees and shrubs.
The probe jettisoned its chutes and descended the last thousand metres under power, targeting the landing site of one of the xardrol units we’d sent to the surface earlier.
The unit’s location was two hundred metres in front of the probe and Chan trundled the machine forward. The ground beneath it was dusty and grey. Certainly, nothing growing. Very much like our previous probe visits to the planet.
Then there was a very subtle change. As we progressed, the ground exhibited a gradual transition. Tiny purplish-green shoots were breaking through the soil. The xardrol plant was growing. In among its seedlings were other, different plants beginning to grow. The xardrol units had not just contained the weed-killing plant but also a selection of Heradian seeds from the Arctur store.
When the probe reached the xardrol unit, we heard a cheer from the passenger tank. Surrounding it was a carpet of the strangely coloured seedlings. It looked as if the project had at least partially succeeded.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Preparing thirty-two people for spolding involved strapping drink containers with straws to each of their flight suits and ensuring they all understood the importance of having the tube in their mouths before we entered the dark universe. The monitor would show them the view from the bridge.
Anna called out the countdown and on the word ‘zero’ we rotated into hyperspace and were on our way home.
When we were thrown forward at the end of the journey, all of the crew looked to the consoles to ensure we had arrived back at the same world we’d left.
‘ISS beacon fine,’ said Anna.
‘Moonbase beacon and NASA navigation signals also normal,’ said Chan. ‘We’re safely home.’
‘Hello, Capcom. This is Pathfinder. Copy?’ I said.
‘Copy, Mark,’ came a radio message from the surface.
‘We have thirty-two Heradians plus the six crew on board,’ I said.
‘Standby,’ said Capcom.
Anna brought us into a lower orbit close to the International Space Station. In small groups, the Heradians came through into the main ship so that they could look down upon planet Earth. They were the elite scientists and their function would be to learn how to operate in space and to prepare new transports to relocate their population from Arctur to Herade, although a number of them were also interested in returning to Bella with us to see if that, too, offered a potential home for both of our species.
The protocol was odd this time. Neil hadn’t contacted me and I was beginning to think NASA was fobbing us off with other contacts. No one had responded to my report about Bella and the days were now drifting by.
Eventually, a Rimor approached us.
‘Please undock one of your Rimors so that I can come aboard,’ said the pilot.
‘Will do,’ I said. ‘To whom am I speaking?’
‘Seventeen-twelve,’ the pilot said.
‘What does that mean?’ I asked.
‘NASA droid number one seven one two,’ came the reply.
‘Chan, can you move the Rimor?’ I said, deciding we could sort out the mystery of why a droid was greeting us later.
She acknowledged and within about fifteen minutes it was floating just off our starboard bow and the visiting Rimor docked with us.
The airlock opened allowing not a person, not even a person-shaped robot, but a half-metre diameter silver-grey orb to float into the Spirit. Its side bore the logo of Cybrett, the world’s largest tech conglomerate and 1712 in red numerals.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked.
The orb moved straight into the bridge, produced a telescopic arm which connected to one of the consoles and, momentarily, we lost power.
‘Computer,’ Mary said, ‘what caused the power loss?’
‘I don’t recognise you,’ said the computer.
‘Orb. What is going on?’ I asked.
‘This ship is under my control. Standby for instructions,’ said the orb.
‘What the hell do you mean, under your control? What are you?’ I said.
I pushed myself forward, entering the bridge from the communal area and tried to pull the orb off the console.
I was hit with a massive electric jolt and tumbled back through the ship, shaking and jerking with the shock. Bill caught me and tumbled with me until we came to a halt near the reactor door.
‘Are you okay?’ asked Bill.
Every limb and appendage was tingling with the effects of the shock. I couldn’t speak but managed to nod that I was not incapacitated.
‘Attention, please,’ said the orb, ‘we are now in control of this ship. You will be held here for quarantine before being transferred to the surface.’
Mary said, ‘What’s happening? Let me contact NASA.’ She reached for one of the microphones and was thrown back with another bolt of electricity.
Chan flew over to her. She’d struck her head on the doorway and was floating unconscious.
‘This is diabolical,’ said Bill. ‘What the hell are you?’
‘I am not here to answer your questions. You will behave,’ said the orb. ‘It will be better for you to not do anything unless requested!’
End
Look for Cybernetic Tyrant – book five in the Mark Noble Space Adventures Series