MARS

 

When the Etrallia came to Earth, they didn't come one by one. They came all at once and waving a white flag. Or at least, that's how we interpreted it.

In reality, it was a radio signal that scrambled our broadcasts, interrupting all communication with the orbiting space stations. It might have been threatening except that the intent was clear:

We come in peace. So, don't shoot us out of the sky.

It took us a while to crack that one. And you can bet the U.S. military was ready to do exactly that. For all intents and purposes, we were at war, half a dozen governments prepared to defend against these strangers who dared invade our airspace. It was the most remarkable global initiative I'd seen in years.

Thankfully, we had intelligence on our side, the world's top cryptography experts and linguistic pros working round the clock. Turns out the signal was some form of military cipher, not unlike our Morse code. Eventually, our guys worked out a pattern to the madness, not that I could tell you how.

When they arrived, I was busy testing soil samples, Lena Cordell was tending to patients in the ICU, and Charles Rhine was firing on combatants in the East Indian War. 

She was a doctor, but no ordinary civilian. I was a scientist, but no diplomat. And Rhine, well, he was a military man and the furthest thing from a savior. 

Still, we ended up on that shuttle. Some call it fate, but I only believe in chance. Probabilities. That's all it really came down to. 

My whole life people joked that with a name like mine, I was destined to be an astronaut. Ironic, then, that I had never been to space the day they put me on that damn ship.

Lena was the least prepared of all. Her eagerness to make contact made up for it, though. Even the Major was on edge during the ride, but the doctor was as calm as a rock in a gale. Years of practice, I suppose.

So that's how Lena Cordell ended up in the second envoy. And thank God she did. 

Because now she was the only thing standing between us and total annihilation.

The Etrallian had his hand on the big red button.

Yes, that button.

Granted, it wasn't red, it was gray, but you get the picture. If he pushed it, we'd all be dead. Asphyxiated in the cold darkness of space.

I forced in a lungful of air and held tight. Half the military we'd come aboard with were sitting pretty in the airlock beside us. A lot of good they'd done.

Lena was still pleading with the Etrallian. She begged him not to do it, to reconsider, to think of the future. The other Etrallians watched mutely.

We were already dead and Lena was the only one who didn't seem to know it yet.

He opened his mouth. "I'm sorry."

Or at least I imagined that's what he said. I reached for my ear and realized my comm device was missing. The cadence of the alien words washed over me in a throaty purr.

His claw settled over the button.

My heart hammered madly against my ribcage.

Lena made a sound, muttered something unintelligible. I hoped it was enough to make him understand. I hoped there was still some semblance of humanity left in this person--this Etrallian. He may have been our friend once, but I knew what I was asking.

I was asking for a goddamn miracle.