‘What the hell?’ they all shouted in unison.
‘Helmets on,’ shouted Linda. They all grabbed their helmets, clipped to the side of their seats. Linda and Andy managed to get theirs on in record time, but Ed was shaking badly and was all fingers and thumbs. He got a bit of help from Andy and was quickly sealed up.
They all jumped back into their seats and belted up before the inner door failed and the cabin depressurised.
Only it didn’t.
There were a few clunks and what sounded like a muted voice swearing.
‘Was that someone talking?’ said Andy, staring at the airlock door, his eyes the size of dinner plates.
‘Are we recording this?’ said Linda, gripping the sides of her seat.
‘I want to go home now,’ said Ed, who was the most uncomfortable, being nearest to the door.
The knock at the inner door made them all jump again.
Then a muffled voice said, ‘Hello, anyone home?’ in perfect English.
Quick as a flash, Andy replied, ‘Three Jedi Knights and we’re really pissed off.’
Linda stared at Andy as if he was insane.
‘I told you he jokes around when he’s nervous,’ whispered Ed.
‘Ah, would that be Andy Skywalker?’ said the voice.
They all looked at each other with complete disbelief.
‘Please don’t activate your light sabre as it’ll set off all the weapon proximity alarms and that just creates paperwork,’ the voice continued. ‘I’m going to open the inner airlock door now, so don’t panic or anything. We wish you no harm.’
‘Resistance is futile,’ whispered Andy, trying to remain sane.
The airlock door cycled up with a slight hiss into its housing to show an empty doorway. A smiling face peered round the left-hand side of the door.
‘Hello. Permission to come aboard?’
‘By all means. Come in,’ said Ed. ‘It’s not that we could stop you.’
The other two sat gazing as a young human male of about twenty stepped cautiously into the cockpit. He stood at about six feet tall, had short brown hair, deep blue eyes and wore a Nirvana T-shirt with blue jeans and bright red and gold trainers.
‘Good afternoon, Ed, Linda, Andy,’ he said, nodding at each as he said their names. ‘Or should I call you Head Butt, Slopes and Cactus?’ he continued, smiling again. ‘My name’s Phil, by the way.’ He walked over and shook them all by the hand. ‘Please take off your helmets; we have the same oxygen-based atmosphere as you. It’s quite safe, and sorry for the suddenness of the meeting. We were planning to introduce ourselves with a little more subtlety, but when you attempted to jump into the vicinity of Uskrre, we were forced to intervene. The planetary defence system there would have detected you and probably vaporised your ship in seconds. The Klatt are just a little oversensitive about their territory and security.’
They all removed their helmets slowly, clipping them back next to their seats and sniffing the air suspiciously.
‘Err, how is it you speak English?’ asked Ed, looking a little puzzled. ‘I mean, you speak it better than me and I’m English. And you’re from – where exactly?’
‘Yes, yes, sorry. You will have a lot of questions and I wish we had a sort of introduction to your local galaxy video I could show you,’ said Phil. ‘There is an enormous database of information in our ship’s core that you will have access to shortly. In the meantime, I’ll try to give you a speed-readers tour, so you don’t feel quite so lost.’
Phil strolled across the cabin and sat cross-legged on the floor with his back to the bulkhead.
They all rotated their seats to face him.
‘Okay, we’re Theos. Our home world is on Paradeisos, in the Aspro System. We kinda look out for underdeveloped humanoid worlds that are on our patch, which is where you guys come in.’
‘So, we’re underdeveloped?’ said Ed. ‘That’s the nicest thing an alien has ever said to me.’
‘Ah, sarcasm. I love sarcasm; not a lot of the other races get it. That’s why I love coming over to Gaia and sitting in a London or New York pub, joining in with the local banter. It’s so refreshing and entertaining.’
‘Gaia?’ questioned Ed. ‘What’s that when it’s at home?’
‘Sorry, yes. Earth is known to us as Gaia – or to everyone really, as we all use the same star maps. Your Sun is called Helios, so when others ask, you come from Gaia in the Helios System.’
‘How many times have you come down to Earth?’ asked Linda. ‘And how, I mean, where do you park?’
‘We can cloak our ships very well. This ship stays in a high orbit and we use a smaller atmospheric shuttle that can take the entry. As for how many times, I’ve lost count.’
‘Is that where you got the Nirvana shirt?’ asked Andy.
‘Yeah, one of the best gigs I saw – apart from Genesis and Pink Floyd. I always visited when they were touring. Jimi Hendrix, as well, although he wasn’t originally from Earth.’
‘Hang on there, just a minute,’ said Ed, looking at Phil suspiciously. ‘Kurt Cobain died in the nineties, well over fifty years ago. You’re only, what – in your twenties, so how come you’re telling us you saw them live – or do you mean on video?’
‘We overcame the ageing process a long time ago, so I always look like this,’ said Phil, smiling.
‘How old are you then?’ asked Linda, looking at him strangely.
‘In Gaia – sorry, Earth – years, I’m just over three thousand eight hundred or thereabouts,’ he answered, giving them a thumbs-up.
There was complete silence for a few moments, which was eventually broken by Andy. ‘You don’t look a day over two thousand.’
‘There it is,’ said Phil, laughing. ‘That Earth humour, gets me every time.’
He received a row of blank faces glaring back at him.
‘Phil,’ said Ed. ‘How long has your race been in space?’
‘Over nine thousand Earth years,’ he said, nonchalantly. ‘We’ll get the hang of it eventually.’ He grinned profusely again.
Unfortunately, as before, he got no smiles in return.
‘How many human planets are there out here, Phil?’ asked Ed, already afraid of the answer.
‘We have so far logged over twenty thousand systems in this galaxy, with humanoid life forms in some form of development. But of course, with over four hundred billion systems, we’ve barely scratched the surface.’
‘Twenty thousand,’ they all chorused and looked at each other in astonishment.
‘Welcome to the club,’ said Phil. ‘And so that you know, another reason for us dropping you into one of our hangar bays – apart from stopping you getting vaporised – is that all jumps within the galaxy have to be to – and from – designated jump zones in each system and pre-logged with the GDA.’
‘Where are all the designated zones and how the hell do we log a jump?’ asked Ed.
‘You apply to the GDA, by pulse transmission. The zones have been set for thousands of years,’ replied Phil. ‘And before you say anything, we’ll update your navigation system with everything you need. In actual fact, we’ll give your ship a full upgrade to bring it into line with all the CTAs.’
They all looked puzzled.
’What’s the GDA?’ said Ed.
‘And what on earth is a CTA?’ added Andy.
‘Okay,’ said Phil. ‘This is where I wish I had that introductory video. The Gerousia Dipodi Agones – or in English, The Council of Bipedal Races. They’re based on Dasos, a planet in the Prasinos System. A word of advice: do not disagree or pick a fight with them. At the last count, they had one thousand six hundred and seventy-four members, some of whom are almost as advanced as us and they dispose of dissenters, as you would an annoying itch. They have battle cruisers the size of small planets, crewed by officers and soldiers that have – to use a really excellent Earth term – “a complete sense of humour bypass”.’
‘CTA’s?’ reminded Andy, looking hopeful.
‘Ah, yes,’ said Phil. ‘Choros Taxidi Apaitiseon or Space Voyaging Requisites. It’s the minimum safety design requirements for all spacefaring vessels and is policed by the GDA. I’ll get a copy translated into English for you, but as I said before, we’ll ensure your ship complies before you leave.’
Linda looked at Phil suspiciously with her arms crossed. ‘Why are you helping us, Phil. Really, what’s in it for you guys? I don’t want to appear rude, or ungrateful, or anything, but where I come from, there’s no such thing as a free lunch. There’s always a catch. Can you tell us where we really stand in all of this?’
‘It’s right for you to be a little suspicious,’ said Phil. ‘And we would have been surprised if you hadn’t been. Look at it from our point of view: every thousand years or so, a previously quarantined immature humanoid planet develops jump technology. Out they come, all wide-eyed and brave, in a contraption that could fail at the drop of a hat. We knew you wouldn’t be long, so we left an FTL detection buoy in your system. It detected your first jump out to the ringed planet. We watched and waited to see where you went next and jumped here with you. But getting back to your question: there is no catch. We want humanoid races to flourish in this galaxy and, once you’re out here, you might as well have the same as everyone else, otherwise it just leaves you open to be exploited. As you can imagine, there are races out here who – let’s just say — aren’t as benevolent as we are.’
‘How come I didn’t detect you when I scanned the whole system for planets?’ said Andy, pointing at his control console.
‘Two reasons: one, we have stealth technology; two, your scanning array is thousands of years out of date.’
‘How do we fare overall?’ asked Ed.
‘Let’s say, a little better from now on.’
‘You little diplomat, you,’ said Linda, cracking a smile and relaxing a little.
‘Talking of diplomacy,’ said Phil. ‘If you’d like to change out of your EVA suits, I’ll give you all a tour of the ship and a rundown of how much technology has moved on in the last few millennia.’
They all filed back to their cabins to change, enjoying the gravity and Ed wondered how he would be able to sleep in a weightless cot under its influence.
Dressed in light NASA flight suits, they emerged and followed Phil out of the airlock and into the hangar. Apart from their space plane, it contained two other small strange-looking ships, both slightly larger than theirs and, judging from the heat scarring on the undersides, they were capable of penetrating a planet’s atmosphere.
‘Are you hungry?’ asked Phil. ‘Because, having been on Earth, I think you’ll find the food we eat is quite palatable.’
‘I’ll give it a go,’ said Andy. ‘What have you got?’
‘Two minutes after first contact and you want to stuff your face,’ said Linda, giving him a dubious glance.
‘What if we get sick?’ said Ed as they all trooped through a door at the rear of the hangar; it just dematerialised as they approached and reappeared again behind them.
‘You won’t,’ said Phil as he led them down pure white corridors with no obvious lighting. The walls and ceiling all emitted a glow that got brighter as they progressed along and then resumed back to a dulled level once passed. They were ushered into a two-metre cylindrical tube, which sealed as soon as they were all inside and then seemingly moved upwards, completely silently.
‘The ship scanned all three of you earlier to ensure you’re healthy,’ said Phil. ‘Part of that informed us of your dietary requirements and any possible vitamin shortfall – plus any toxins in your systems that need addressing.’
‘Shit,’ said Ed. ‘That must be a long list.’
‘Actually, you’re all in reasonable shape. Although, Andy, we’re puzzled as to why you have a high ethanol reading,’ said Phil, giving him a sideways glance.
‘Ethanol – why would I have a high amount of that?’ asked Andy, looking surprised and wrinkling his nose at the thought.
‘Antifreeze,’ said Linda. ‘Wouldn’t want you getting all stiff, would we,’ she said, punching him in the arm.
‘Actually,’ said Ed, looking thoughtful. ‘I seem to remember a high percentage of Tequila is ethanol.’
‘Ah, shit,’ said Andy. ‘Here we go again. And you can shut up,’ he quickly added, pointing at Linda as she opened her mouth.
The cylindrical elevator suddenly popped up into a large round darkened room. The opaque elevator wall surrounding them disappeared and they all stepped out into the middle of the large room. It quickly became apparent they were standing in amongst a three-dimensional star map that swirled around and through them. Four reclined couches sat on low pedestals, three of which were occupied by male humans, all seemingly around the same age as Phil. They all wore similar Earth-style clothes to Phil and had very thin headsets, which looked like old-fashioned bicycle helmets.
Hanging in the air, directly in front of each couch, were translucent projected consoles, almost like oversized, stand-alone, head-up displays from fighter jets.
‘Welcome to the holo bridge,’ said Phil, looking immensely proud. ‘And the rest of the crew. That’s Mike, Steve and Tony,’ he said, pointing at each crew member as he named them.
They all waved in return.
‘There are only four of you?’ questioned Ed.
‘We only actually need three,’ said Phil. ‘But it’s good to have a contingency.’
‘And then there were three,’ stated Andy and winked at Phil.
‘Very good, Mr Faux,’ said Phil, pointing at him. ‘We took bets, as we didn’t think anyone would get that.’
‘Get what, exactly?’ said Linda, looking perplexed.
‘Genesis,’ said Andy. ‘They’re all named after members of Genesis.’
‘What about Peter Gabriel?’ said Ed smugly.
‘We named the ship Gabriel,’ said Phil, returning the smug look.
‘For heavens sake,’ said Linda. ‘I’ve been kidnapped by an alien seventies prog-rock appreciation society. Doesn’t anyone out here like The Pretenders?’
‘They were excellent at the Heatwave Festival near Toronto in 1980,’ said Phil. ‘And they were—’
‘Bloody hell, is there any classic band you haven’t seen?’ she said, interrupting.
‘Stop your sobbing,’ said Andy and got his second punch on the arm.
‘Okay, let’s sort you guys out with some food,’ said Phil and moved back onto the elevator pad.
They all followed along, with Ed wondering whether the food would be seventies-style as well.
‘I quite fancy a prawn cocktail,’ he said and received some strange looks.