Dizzie Drexler
So, it turned out that Sik-Tar… really wasn’t that much to look at. Once the first flush of excitement had dulled, Dizzie was able to separate “distant planet unexplored for probably millennia OMIGOSH it’s the best!” back to reality. And the reality was that Sik-Tar, at least from orbit, was rather boring.
About half the size of Earth, Sik-Tar had a breathable atmosphere thanks to a vast, superheated sea that generated oxygen via thermal reactions from the massive vents that boiled up beneath the planet’s crust. Its total landmass consisted of a single, unbroken continent, punctuated here and there with volcanoes both dead and alive, but apart from that there were few other geological features of note. There were no great mountain ranges, no inland lakes, no forests or tundra or life of any kind. The land was rocky and granular and perpetually misted with clouds the color of blood everywhere you looked.
The rocks themselves were interesting, though. Lots of different types, and it didn’t take much investigation with the ground-penetrating radar to confirm that there was, in fact, a very significant deposit of Xenium on Sik-Tar, and most of it fairly close to the surface of the planet, vulnerable to volcanic disruption. That probably explained the microparticles in the atmosphere.
Also interesting was the fact that the Caridian distress signal that Six was homing in on as they got closer to the planet’s surface was located right in the middle of that Xenium deposit. It emanated from a massive structure that, according to their imaging scans, wasn’t an immediate match to any Caridian architecture. According to Six, that was a feature, not a bug.
“Ship-building records from so long ago have largely been lost, but this appears within my people’s capabilities!” he declared.
The structure was so big that at first Dizzie had thought it was just another rough, pointy hillock before Six excitedly showed them that the points were, in fact, manufactured spires of some sort. “This is good,” he said, mouthparts buzzing. “If there were a homing signal without a corresponding ship, I could have been in significant trouble upon my return to the Seethe.”
“What? Why?” Dizzie had a hard time picturing Six being the subject of reprimand.
Six tilted his tremendous eyes their way. “I have left my people behind on a quest to find something that has no immediate value to the Glorious Hegemony. If this had merely been the result of a stolen beacon, or some other alien artifact that indicated nothing at all instead of something identifiably Caridian, I would be guilty of wasting resources. Our queens have been kind to me, but every act of kindness has its limits.”
Yeesh, wasn’t that the truth. At least the homing signal had a pretty good beat. Dizzie turned back to the tablet and nodded their head along to the rhythmic “beep-ba-ba-ba-beep-beep” of it as they reread the findings from the probe they and Corinus had sent down twelve hours ago. It confirmed everything they already knew – no to life signs, yes to Xenium, manageable radiation levels, atmosphere breathable if need be. It was cold down there, and damp, but not freezing. The wind was constant, but not so fierce it would knock anyone down. In short, it was looking like the on-site expedition could go ahead as planned.
Now that was worth celebrating.
“You appear to be in a good mood, Dr Drexler.”
Dizzie glanced up from their tablet at Six, who now sat down beside them at the helm. Everyone else was catching a little more sleep before they descended – except for Mason, maybe, but it was hard to tell since his eyes never shut.
“I am,” Dizzie agreed. “I’ve got a lot of questions about what we’re going to find down there, and I’m looking forward to finding the answers. Plus, I’ve always wanted to study Xenium firsthand. This is really a phenomenal opportunity for that.”
“I suppose it is,” Six said, tilting his head again in a way that made Dizzie think uncomfortably of a praying mantis. Not that they were worried Six was going to bite their head off – that was more Divak’s style – but the resemblance was uncanny.
Dizzie wasn’t so uncomfortable that they weren’t going to take the opportunity to poke a little fun at Six, that was for sure. “You suppose?” they drawled, tilting the chair back slightly so they could get the right angle for a sarcastic side-eye. “You can’t expect me to believe that your people aren’t just as interested in the Xenium deposits as mine are. It’s a stellar source of fuel, and from everything you’ve said it seems like Caridians could use something like it.”
“We could,” Six agreed. “I can’t deny that. But we have other sources of fuel available to us that are easier to get and require fewer safeguards. Finding a reliable source of Xenium is certainly of interest to the queens, but the Glorious Hegemony shall continue on its journey whether we have access to it or not.”
“I guess that’s why they’re happy to send a historian and not a propulsion engineer out here,” Dizzie said, remembering Six’s admonition from earlier in the week.
“Indeed.” He glanced down at the planet, just visible in the corner of the ship’s front viewscreen. “There was a time when our species was bolder. We took an aggressive approach to expansion and sought to control all resources within our sphere of influence. That is the time period this distress signal originates from.”
“So you think that the ancient Caridians sent a ship out here to take control of the planet?”
Six’s antennae wavered slightly. “That’s my current assumption. The distress signal is real. Exactly what went on down there to necessitate it… that, I don’t know. Yet.”
Dizzie grinned. “But you’re dying to find out, aren’t you?”
“Hopefully not literally,” Six said. “But… I confess, the thought of seeing firsthand one of the legends of my people…” He actually shuddered, his antennae boinging back and forth like they were on springs. “It might be enough to make dying worth it.”
“Well.” Dizzie straightened up in the chair and clapped Six on the shoulder. “Let’s not make that literal, OK?”
“Of course not.” Six inclined his head. “I plan to take every reasonable precaution.”
“Take the unreasonable ones, too.”
Six smiled… maybe. If that was what stretching out his lower mandible until it was wider than the top of his head could be called. “As you say.”
•••
They landed the Telexa in the midst of a storm. It was impossible not to land in a storm, given the persistence of the wind, so they picked a moment when the cameras could at least get a glimpse of the ground to make their descent.
“Are you sure you can do this?” Dizzie nervously asked Six as they strapped into their flight chair. They’d already changed into their EV suit, only lacking the helmet that would complete the “personal bubble” look. Beside them, Corinus was already somewhat lilac around the edges, and they hadn’t even entered the atmosphere yet. Dizzie wondered if it was space sickness or the anticipation.
“Both,” Corinus murmured unhappily to Dizzie, his eyelids fluttering like butterflies in a hurricane.
“I have landed the Telexa in much less favorable conditions before,” Six assured them all, manipulating the controls with ease as he followed the coordinates to an area a few kilometers from the distress signal. They’d chosen it for its flatness – the slick, rugged, and in some cases jagged terrain of Sik-Tar didn’t make for a lot of options. They had brought along a rover that would serve to take them the rest of the way there.
Heck, they could always walk if it got really bad. A few kilometers was nothing.
“Are we all strapped in?” Six asked, leaving his body facing forward in his chair but turning his head a full one-eighty degrees backward to look at them. Everyone nodded except for Mason, who Grayson double-checked before giving Six a nod. “Excellent. This landing will probably be somewhat bumpy, so if you feel the need to expel your food, please use the bag at your feet.”
Corinus went right for his. Dizzie held more tightly to the straps across their chest and tried not to look overly excited. Be calm, be cool, you’re a pro and you’ve got this. Sure, they’d ridden inside the massive Guild freighters from Earth to Torus Station and back, done a field trip to the moon, and touched down on Titan before, but this… they’d never done anything quite like this.
Their entry down to Sik-Tar began smoothly enough. They were landing while it was still light out by the structure, early in the day, in fact – they should have plenty of time for their initial explorations if everything went well. The faint illumination provided by the red dwarf seemed adequate… while still in space, at least. Once they plunged down into the upper layer of the atmosphere, Dizzie’s impression of it changed.
It was like having a blanket drawn over the entire ship. A wet, blood red blanket that wrapped itself around their wings and suffocated their engines. The storm buffeted them severely enough that several alarms began to blare, and a moment later the cabin suddenly lost its lights.
“Don’t be alarmed!” Six shouted from his spot at the helm. “The Telexa is merely rerouting all available power to our stabilizers. Once we’re through the stratosphere, things should calm down significantly!”
“Are we going to make it through the bloody stratosphere?” Grayson shouted back.
“I believe we will!” The ship rocked to the side hard enough to rattle Dizzie’s head between the topmost restraints. “I am nearly positive!”
“Nearly positive?” Corinus whimpered. Dizzie reached out and patted his forearm consolingly, the only part of him they could reach.
“This would be a miserable, honorless way to die,” Divak said. For the first time since Dizzie had met her, she sounded something other than arrogant, angry, or both. She sounded frightened. If Dizzie could have reached her, they might have tried patting her forearm too.
And probably gotten it ripped off for their troubles. Dizzie clenched down on the armrest instead and stared out into the shifting storm. If they were going to die in a storm like this – which we aren’t, Corinus, we totally aren’t! – then they wanted to see their end coming. There was something freeing about the lack of control, everything right now the exact opposite of how it was in the lab. There was nothing they could do, no structure they could impose or effort they could make that would change the outcome of this experiment. Everything was in someone else’s hands now, and all Dizzie could do was see it through.
The ship shook and jolted, sometimes taking hits from debris that ought to be too big to swirl up in a storm like this but came along for the ride anyway. Always there was the red right there, coating the ship and tinting everyone inside it with its ruddy reflection. They all looked like they’d been in a massacre, even the ones who didn’t have iron-based blood.
A second after they had that thought, the ship broke through the storm and all of a sudden, their violent fall became soft as the stabilizers no longer had to compensate for the force of the winds. The reddish light remained, but as the vista of the ground stretched out through the viewscreen, the feeling of claustrophobia from the entry faded.
“I will set us down momentarily,” Six said, and sure enough, a few seconds later the Telexa touched down on the ground with a gentle groan of shocks and a final, drawn-out creak. “We may have taken some damage,” he added. “It wasn’t making that noise before.”
“Oh, may we?” Grayson asked, sarcasm so heavy in his voice it was a wonder he could lift it enough to be heard. “After a passage like that, gettin’ down here with all the legs of this thing still attached is a bloody miracle! You should let me have access to her brain, run a scan to make sure she’s still flightworthy and doesn’t need any extra repairs.”
Six unstrapped from his seat and turned around to look at them this time. “I will ensure you are satisfied as to the ship’s condition, but we have plenty of time to make any repairs necessary. After all, our expedition here is only just beginning.”
Whatever Grayson was about to say was lost as Corinus suddenly brought the bag up to his face and was noisily sick into it. A sour smell permeated the room, and the others up and left quickly after that, putting on their helmets and grabbing their specialty gear for the first foray onto the soil of Sik-Tar.
Dizzie stayed next to Corinus. “Are you going to be OK?”
“Fine,” he groaned.
“I’m sure you can feel the fact that I don’t exactly believe you.”
Corinus wiped his mouth on the smooth back of his hooflike hand. “Now that we’re not bouncing around so much, I’m sure things will settle in a moment.”
“You could stay here for the initial foray,” Dizzie reminded him. “I mean, it’s not going to be much more than a first glimpse at this point. You could take the time to… y’know, quiet things down up here.” They tapped the side of their own head.
“I am not going to stay here while you go out there with them.” Corinus’s eyelids stopped moving, a sign of his total sincerity.
“They don’t want to hurt me,” Dizzie said. “We’re all a team here, you know? We’re in this together.”
“Some of us are more ‘together’ than others,” Corinus said darkly.
Dizzie lowered their voice. “Have you gotten something dangerous from one of them?”
“Not specifically, but neither of us know anything of them, not really.” He was still piercing them with that unblinking amethyst stare. “I don’t trust them,” he whispered. “And I especially don’t trust them with you. You’re the expert on Xenium, after all – I’m just your grad student.” He reached out and took their hand. “Please don’t tell them about the shots. I don’t want them to know that I can turn off my telepathy. I want them to have to worry about me, even if I do decide to take a break.”
“I understand.”
“Are you two done gabbing yet?” Grayson yelled from the back of the ship. “The axle on the rover’s busted – dislodged during the storm. We’re gonna have to walk for now, and the sooner we get started the better!”
“We’re coming!” Dizzie yelled back, then got to their feet. They tucked their helmet under one arm hand and held the other out to Corinus. “Ready to go where no Centauran has gone before?”
“If I have to,” he whined, but he got up readily enough. “I’ll get the particle counter.”
“Thanks.” Dizzie put their own helmet on and headed for the ramp in the center of the cabin, where the rest of the crew had assembled. Six’s EVA suit was a lot like the standard Coalition make, but blue, whereas Divak was still in her power armor, carrying a sniper rifle that was almost as long as she was tall.
Grayson, meanwhile, was sitting on his brother’s back, while Mason was down on all fours, limbs extended out at equal length on all sides like some sort of four-legged crab. His eyes were as blank as ever beneath the helmet, but Dizzie had been paying close enough attention for the past week that they could pick up a few of Mason’s cues now. There was a faint glisten of sweat at the top of his brow. He was excited.
“I see you found a solution to not having the rover fixed yet,” Dizzie said as they took up position next to the Banes.
“You try it yourself and I’ll break your arm,” Grayson replied just as sanguinely. “It’s brotherly when he carts me around – it’s damn rude when someone else tries to horn in.”
“I’ll be fine walking, thanks.”
Grayson grinned. “That’s what I like to hear.”
Their suit helmets were all tuned to the same radio frequency, and specs for each individual played across the side of the screen as Dizzie looked from person to person. All suits were whole, everyone’s health looked good, and they were fully kitted out for an initial expedition – thus, everyone was carrying way more than they’d probably need, but Dizzie always felt it was better to have it and not need it than the other way around.
They looked over at Six, whose hand hovered over the keypad that would open the door to the outside. “Shall we?” Dizzie asked, trying for cool and professional, but probably coming off as ridiculously excited instead.
“We shall.” Six quickly typed in the code, and a second later, the door began to rise while the ramp shot out to the rocky ground six feet below them.
Moments after that, Dizzie stepped onto ground that no sentient creature had set foot on for over a millennium. Even though their damp footprint was blown away almost instantly, they knew it had been there. They were the first, but not the last.
“Here we go.”