Dark Nebula: Isolation: Dark Nebula, #1

DATA SHEET

SOL — 2278

Target: Sol

Alternate Designation: The Solar System, Home of Humanity

Number of Planets: 8

Habitable Planets: 1 - Earth

Terraformed Planets: 1 - Mars (In Progress)

System Population:

Mercury: 0

Venus: 1,248 planetside, 25,240 orbiting

Earth: 17.2 billion planetside, 1.7 million orbiting

Mars: 1.1 billion planetside, 210,310 orbiting

Asteroid Belt: 250,000 +/- 75,000

Jupiter: 0 planetside, 2.9 billion orbiting, +/- 50,000 orbiting in Trojans

Saturn: 0 planetside, 1.8 billion orbiting

Uranus: 0 planetside, 335,965 orbiting

Neptune: 0 planetside, 121,570 orbiting

Dwarf Planets: 45,000 +/- 15,000

Other: +/- 170,000

Description:

The current year is designated AD 2278 and humanity has expanded throughout most of Sol. They are generally aligned as either the Inner or Outer Ring, with the geographic delineation separating the two political parties being the main asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter. The divide between the two is primarily motivated around natural resources and disagreements about human rights and entitlement. The Inners are hierarchically aligned based upon fiscal status, whereas the Outers are aligned horizontally based upon an individual’s contribution to society.

Both parties have taken on a common goal in recent centuries of expansion toward planetary systems beyond Sol for the mutual benefit of humanity. This forced goal was due to the environmental collapse and overpopulation of Earth in recent centuries. They’ve established one colony in the Epsilon Eridani system and colony ships are en route to Tau Ceti and G. Eridani. Each star system contains a habitable planet and is reachable with modern technology, which enables cryogenic suspension and subluminal travel at 80% the speed of light.

1

ABIGAIL OLIVAW

SOL, LUNA

She rolled onto her side and reached up to squeeze her ear, answering the comm chime. Getting a few minutes to squeeze in a power nap was harder and harder lately.

Sorry for interrupting you during your personal time, Madam President. We have… a bit of a situation, Minula, her assistant, said.

It’s… okay, Abigail said. My brain and body wouldn’t shut up anyhow.

Pardon, Madam?

She chuckled quietly under her breath. Nothing. Please continue. What’s the emergency today?

Sorry, Madam. We’ve received a comm from the Earth Forward Observation Outpost at Lagrange point two. I’ll patch them through.

Abigail rolled off the couch and stood up. Vertigo hit, and she reached toward the wall of glass to steady herself. Her legs buckled slightly as the wave of disorientation flowed over her. She reached up and held her head while taking a deep breath. This dizzy feeling was odd… and yet somehow familiar.

After waiting a moment for her body to steady, she headed over to her desk and sat in the empty chair.

What now? she muttered.

Opening the drawer, she pressed her finger to a hidden button on the inside. The desk emitted an ambient glow and the glass wall overlooking Pavlov Crater became translucent. A voice spoke, Security countermeasures are now in effect.

The image on her comm flickered for a second, then an officer at attention appeared. When they realized they were talking directly to Abigail, the President of the Confederation of Planetary Explorers (CoPE), the officer’s eyes went wide and they saluted her.

Abigail saluted back, her deep blue eyes locking into the patented stoic expression the media loved to focus on. Go ahead, Lieutenant.

Madam President, the officer stammered. Approximately five minutes ago, visual scans detected six unknown objects or sh—ships in the main asteroid belt. They appeared suddenly. Subsequent analysis shows no prior approach vector. Each ship is oblong, over four kilometers in length, and is arranged in a circular formation. Assets have been diverted from inside the belt for recon. We should have more details in a few minutes from our Earth-orbiting telescopes and other Lagrange points. More distant assets should return data within an hour.

The particulars of the scan appeared on her comm and her stomach tightened. Each object was identical in shape and apparent mass. They appeared to have a peculiar spectral signature and weren’t radiating any energy in standard visual wavelengths.

One moment please, Lieutenant. She reached up and touched the tip of her ear. Once her side of the comm was muted and blurred, she spoke out loud to her A.I. companion. Harold, are there any matches from these images or scans against data in the archives? Maybe there’s some material analysis or design consistency we can correlate against?

Harold responded after a brief pause. I’ve been checking since the data arrived, Madam President. There are no ships that match these characteristics in either the Inner or Outer Ring fleets. We’ll need additional spectral analysis to answer definitively, but there’s approximately an eighty percent match. These objects’ exterior material is close to that of the first contact probe. The design, however, appears to have no similarity nor engineering consistency.

She pursed her lips and her eyes narrowed. This wasn’t happening. Her family had kept the discovery of the alien probe a secret for centuries. While they’d been using the technology from the artifact to bootstrap mankind toward the stars, it took them a while until they learned the consequences of using it, and that was only after they’d opened that Pandora’s box. But right now, they weren’t ready yet. This had to be a coincidence, nothing more.

Reaching up, she unmuted the comm and added Minula, her assistant, to the call. Thank you, Lieutenant. Please keep me in the loop with any developments. Minula, call an emergency meeting of the council. Best to have everyone together to work this one. The last thing we need is comm lag leading to another incident like last year’s belter miner strike.

It looks like Command is ahead of you, Madam, Minula began. They’ve already alerted all acting Inner and Outer Ring representatives, and they’re in transit to the Pavlov Council Chambers as we speak. They should arrive within the hour. Their military liaisons will arrive shortly thereafter. Should I convene secondary council seats, as well?

This should be fun. Did they really need military representation already? There’s nothing like going all in on the flop.

No, I think we’ll have enough egos present to start, she said. Let’s keep them in the loop with intel but keep the membership and security clearance tight on this one. I don’t want this leaking to the press until we know what we’re dealing with. I’m going to clean up. Give me fifteen minutes and then we can head to chambers.

Yes, Madam. I’ll have your security team ready outside your quarters, Minula said and cut the comm.

Abigail leaned back in her chair and sighed. The details for the next meeting started appearing in her peripheral vision. It included the ETA of each attendee and their complete bios. Before she reviewed those, she had something more important to do. While she hoped this was a false alarm, she needed to be prepared.

Touching her ear gently, she subvocalized a command to record a comm to her brother Zachary. She spoke aloud looking toward a tiny camera drone that rose out of the desk.

Hey, Zach! I hope everything’s going well with the latest round of tests. I’m really excited to see the new numbers and changes you mentioned in your last message.

She paused and looked away from the camera. She didn’t want to freak him out, so she needed to be careful in how she worded this next part. Speaking in code without giving away the meaning was hard enough, adding nuance was even harder.

I got sideswiped today. Ran into someone here on Luna I thought I recognized, but I’m not sure they’re who I think they are. I’m sending you their pics. Take a look and let me know what you think. They appeared out of nowhere on that middle running track, you know the huge one. Geez, they were eerily familiar. That reminds me, I’m dialing my settings back to zero. Things are just getting too weird, and I need to start out clean. Stay safe, and keep your head clear. We’ll speak again soon. I love ya.

The drone dropped back into her desk as she set-up the data feed with the new encryption protocol. After she double-checked everything, she sent the comm. It’d take nearly a week for the message to reach Zachary out in the Oort Cloud. That was only after being split into millions of chunks, embedded within thousands of planetary standard communication broadcasts throughout the system, and coalescing into a handful of hidden tight beam stations spread throughout Sol.

If she didn’t start sending the data now she’d regret it later.

She stood slowly, not wanting to get dizzy again. Confident the vertigo wouldn’t attack, she headed toward the lavatory to clean up before the council meeting.

The light surrounding her desk faded as she walked out of the vicinity. A second later, an audible alert reminded her that communications were no longer secure.

She paused at the mirror as she passed by, smoothing the creases out of her jacket. She didn’t wear a uniform per se. Instead, she wore the same outfit every day to not crowd her mind with the nonsense of picking out clothes. A simple purple pantsuit and white blouse. They were extraordinarily comfortable and the color didn’t dominate the senses.

As the president, she always wore a piece of jewelry to compliment her outfit. Today it was a simple brooch on the right breast of her jacket. It resembled a carriage wheel from the nineteenth century trimmed in diamonds.

In the mirror’s reflection, she caught a glimpse of her desk. She swore she’d forgotten to close the drawer earlier, but it wasn’t open. Harold must have closed it.

She breathed in deeply and exhaled, trying to focus and remove all extraneous thoughts from her mind. The crisp, sterile, highly processed air made her long for the smells of nature, the smells of Earth. The damp woodsy aroma of moss and trees after a day of rain. Itchy pollen from a field of spring flowers. Mornings when she could lazily sit on her porch, enjoy the aroma of a freshly brewed cup of strong coffee, and watch the sun slowly rise over the North Carolina hills as it burned off the morning dew.

A smile crossed her face as she shook off the memories. She’d failed at emptying her mind and finding her center, but she was a bit more relaxed.

Checking her retinal comm, she confirmed that her security contingent was waiting outside the door led by Minula. A formation of four armed escorts, her normal band of troublemakers assigned any time she ventured out in public.

She turned and subvocalized the command to open the door. Striding into the corridor, she paused and smiled at each of her guards. Good evening. Shall we?

Yes, Madam President, they replied in unison.

She stepped forward, and they all turned crisply, heading toward the council chambers.

Abigail walked to the center of the council chambers and stood behind the podium facing the empty seats. She had a few minutes to collect her thoughts before everyone else filed in. Her comm flashed, notifying her that new intel had arrived.

She subvocalized to Harold. Call up that data. Was it the long-range image reconnaissance?

It was, Harold replied.

The images appeared on her retinal comm. The crafts were clear and well-defined. Unlike anything she’d ever seen before. They were white and perfectly cylindrical. Spaced throughout their length were what appeared to be grooves segmenting each crafts hull. With no clear bow or stern, it wasn’t obvious what form of thrust propelled them.

Was there any analysis included with the images?

The only thing noted was that the crafts had no motion nor variation of any kind. They were each identical in length and external markings. The notes about motion don’t make sense though.

What’s wrong with them? She pulled up the data. The numbers did seem odd, almost like— They’re not rotating around the Sun. They’re fixed in that axis.

That’s correct, Harold began, and highly unusual. With no visible thrust, you’d think they’d have some movement, even minor, to counter the constant gravitational forces from the sun. These numbers seem to imply they are absolutely fixed.

She sighed. Her shoulders were heavy, and the pressure of the moment was building and taking a toll. Centuries of planning could be coming to a head. And while these images weren’t definitive, they certainly weren’t any of the known CoPE designs. That much she was certain.

Bringing herself back to the present, she was suddenly aware that most of the representatives were either seated or headed toward their seats.

Her comm buzzed again, notifying her of a breaking news alert:

CoPE HOLDS EMERGENCY SESSION

… CoPE is holding an emergency session of the security council tonight on Luna. According to one of our Inner Ring sources, representatives from all member planets were summoned to an emergency session this evening. It’s unclear what the council is convening to discuss, but rumors are swirling. Everything from loss of colonial contact with the Tau Ceti colony ship, to mounting tensions along the ring border with new battlecruisers threatening the ring ceasefire. You’ll have more details when we have them…

She shook her head. The council couldn’t keep its mouth shut for one hour. One lousy hour. Was it really so hard to not spread rumors? Whatever level of civility she planned to run tonight’s session with had disappeared.

She subvocalized to Harold. Never a dull moment. I assume you’re already on top of this leak?

He replied quickly. Yes, Madam President. Current data suggests it’s either the Venus representatives not taking the council summon seriously, or members of the Earth UN contingent looking to garner stronger funding for Inner Ring security and their re-election. We’ll know more when my copies running within the media networks can safely share intel.

She clenched her fists. Fantastic, just what we needed. Are these idiots ever not fighting for re-election? Don’t answer that. I already know the answer.

She reached up and adjusted her brooch. The points of the wheel pricked her finger, bringing her mind back to center.

Lock it down, she subvocalized.

The doors clanged around the room as locks engaged and the lights overhead flashed. A bluish glow emanated around the perimeter of the ceiling as a computerized voice spoke. Security countermeasures are now in effect.

The sudden transition caught people off guard. A hush spread as the remaining council members scampered to their seats.

She cleared her throat and began. I’ve asked you all here today to⁠—

I demand an explanation, interrupted a female standing in the front row, and an apology for the blatant violation of security protocol. Heading into this meeting I was physically⁠—

Abigail’s comm identified the woman as an Earther from the South American contingent. She raised her hand, gesturing for the council member to stop. I will not give you such an apology nor is it against protocol. As the President I have the right under the Ring Treaty of 2224 to perform searches of any citizen of Sol when threatened or if a conflict is either imminent or occurring. She paused, letting her words sit for a moment and to judge the response. It seemed to have the desired effect. The council member returned to her seat and whispers spread throughout the chamber.

When she glanced around the room, she waited for the commotion to subside. With the seconds ticking past, her heart pounded in her chest as if playing a dramatic tune. The council finally relented and silenced their muttering, sensing she wanted to continue.

She subvocalized a command to bring up the original scans onto the holographic projectors to her left and right and on every retinal comm of the council. Representative Zhang, the leading member from Earth and the Inner Ring Alliance. Can you identify any of the ships in this image? Please remember Mrs. Zhang, you are under oath while in these chambers. Perjury while testifying in a Security Council session has dire consequences.

Caught off guard, Representative Zhang’s eyes went wide. She exhaled, straightened her suit, and stood up. No, Madam President. I cannot identify any of these ships.

Mrs. Zhang, Abigail continued, are there any secret ships with these or similar characteristics under development by the Inner Ring Alliance?

Murmurs and commotion shot through the seated Inner Ring representatives. Mrs. Zhang leaned toward her colleague from Mars to confer. She nodded several times and straightened to face Abigail. No, Madam President.

Thank you, Representative Zhang. You may be seated.

Turning slightly, Abigail looked to her left toward the Outer Ring section of the chambers. Representative Metis, the leading member from Jupiter and the Outer Ring Alliance.

This time she allowed Mr. Metis a moment to rise before continuing. The same questions and consequences for you. Can you identify any of the ships in this image, and are there any secret ships with these or similar characteristics under development by the Outer Ring Alliance?

Without skipping a beat, Representative Metis replied. We in the Outer Ring Alliance have no ships under development matching anything similar to the ones shown here.

Thank you, Representative Metis.

He returned to his seat.

So— it appears we’re at an impasse, council members. Neither Ring Treaty Alliance member has claimed ownership of these ships, and yet, there they are.

There was silence throughout the chamber, something she didn’t expect. They’d usually be at each other’s throat right about now if one had intel against the other. Time to flip the table; she subvocalized a command and the new reconnaissance imagery replaced the old.

An audible gasp spread over the audience and several members of the council brought their hands to their mouths in shock.

As President of CoPE, I’m executing the powers granted to me by the Ring Treaty Emergency War Powers Act and declaring a state of emergency. Members of the council, what you’re seeing is new visual reconnaissance from our forward probes. We don’t yet know if these ships are hostile or friendly, nor do we know if they’re extrasolar in nature. We must plan contingencies accordingly. We’ll bring together experts from linguistics, astrobiology, and military strategy to understand how to best engage them. We must also assess the impact this news will have on the general population and coordinate how we intend to release it. I don’t think it needs repeating, but for the sake of disagreement, I’ll do it anyhow. All the information you’ve heard since I executed the War Powers Act is protected and will result in a court-martial if leaked.

Their faces were masks of shock and disbelief. So many years of confidence could be wiped away if these ships were alien. Their idea that humans were alone in the universe, shattered in an instant. The realization that not only could we not be alone, we might very well be small fish in a very large ocean.

She didn’t see anyone who seemed to disagree with her order, which was refreshing. Time to see if she could rally them a bit.

Ladies and gentlemen. Times like these require that we unite as a confederation. We must pool our knowledge, our resources, and our considerable ingenuity during this time of emergency. As history has shown time and again, we can handle anything thrown at us, but only if we do it together as a united front. It’s imperative that we set aside our past differences and focus instead on the here and now.

Abigail collapsed into the chair. She relished the thought of not moving, talking, or thinking for a few minutes. She’d been in a non-stop state of defusing tense conversations for the better part of an Earth day since she’d declared a state of emergency.

Her door slid open and Minula walked in. Without a word, she set down what smelled like the most amazing coffee ever brewed and then turned to exit as quietly as she’d entered.

Thank you, she blurted as Minula retreated. That smells magnificent.

She picked up a cup and poured herself a healthy portion. Sitting back, she took a minute to just relax. Her muscles released into the plush chair as the warmth of the coffee settled in her stomach. She could use some shut-eye, but she still had a few more things to take care of. Reaching up, she touched her ear. Good evening, Harold. Wait… is it morning?

Good morning, Madam President. Your coffee looks wonderful, exactly the temperature you like it.

There were times she swore Harold was in the room with her. He had full access to all the sensors and surveillance arrays at her disposal, which meant he had access to pretty much anything anywhere. He’d been her silent but vigilant A.I. companion since she was little. It was lonely being separated from her brothers and closest friends. She’d had many late-night professional, existential, and deeply personal conversations with him. Sometimes she forgot he wasn’t a real person.

It really is delicious. Definitely what I needed. So, Harold, do you have any good news for me?

I’m not sure I’d categorize it as good news, but the detailed spectral scans have completed. We’re at a ninety-nine point seven percent match of the alien vessels material to the first contact probe.

Well, that is good news, she chuckled. At least I haven’t been making a fool of myself the past twenty-four hours putting CoPE into high alert. I’m not sure I’d manage another re-appointment with a blunder like that.

She took another hearty swallow of the coffee. It helped her feel more herself.

Anything else of interest? Any details on the leaks from the council members?

I’ve not detected— Harold began.

A priority alert cut him off.

On her retinal comm, a live video feed of the unknown formation of ships appeared. Something was changing. The viewpoint no longer showed the side of the ships. They’d rotated around their center and were now head on, still in formation. The text beneath the video showed that they were moving. It also projected an estimated velocity and the vector of travel.

Harold brought up a three-dimensional map of Sol with the projected path overlaid. She gasped, covering her mouth.

The formation’s course change brought them on an intercept with Earth.

Her heart pounded in her chest. No matter how hard she tried to focus, her thoughts went straight to her brothers Bradley and Zachary. This wasn’t fair; it shouldn’t be happening right now. They needed more time. She’d always figured they’d be like all the generations before them, a footnote in the Olivaw master plan carrying the secret to the next generation. Never the ones on the battlefield.

She leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. Centuries of intricate and incomplete plans were coming to a head in the blink of an eye. Unless this was an alien race making an aggressive first contact, she was fairly certain they were from the Galactic Alliance— the alien collective that humanity had been hiding from for thousands of years. The originators of the first contact probe.

Based on your heart rate, breathing, and your physical reaction, I’m assuming that you’re surprised by this outcome, Madam President?

Surprised, disappointed, angry… she blurted as she slammed her fists on the desk. Coffee spilled everywhere. I’d say I’m feeling the entire range of emotions right about now. Aren’t you? She stood up and started pacing the office.

Given the spectral scans and no other knowledge about the Galactic Alliance other than what we learned from the first contact probe? I’m not surprised, no. The Dark Nebulas we’ve witnessed and the warnings from the probe we discovered should have predicted this course of events.

She shook her head. We’ve sent hundreds of probes, Harold. Hell, I’ve sent thirty-two myself. We haven’t detected anything. Not a single hint of the Galactic Alliance nor any other advanced civilizations. As far as we knew, they were extinct.

It’s a huge galaxy, Madam President. We have many assets in motion, and I should remind you, we still haven’t found one of our probes used to gather intel from Epsilon Eridani. It’s been nearly three years since it should’ve returned. Plenty of time for discovery and retaliation.

His answer hung in the room while she contemplated what to do next. She knew full well what warnings Harold was talking about. The warnings that her ancestors had discovered in the first contact probe.

I didn’t have a choice, she muttered.

You’re right. You didn’t, but your ancestors did. They refused to heed the warning from the Galactic Alliance. They knew that stealing or sharing the alien technology would have consequences.

She sighed. Her family had secretly struggled with these warnings for centuries, while they worked to guide humankind toward the stars. At the same time, they strove to uncover humanity’s real history before Earth. To better understand their ultimate fate once the Galactic Alliance found them.

I hate to interrupt, Abigail. But we haven’t much time. Shouldn’t you activate the next stage of the plan? The colonies may already be in jeopardy.

Harold always switched from proper presidential salutations to her real name when he was referring to family. It was his way of reminding her of the deeper branches of their strategy. She needed to reach out to her brother Zachary. He could set the broader plan in motion from the Wheel and would know what to do about Bradley.

I was going to suggest that. Let’s start by sending another message to Zachary. She sighed and walked back to the desk to sit down.

Certainly, Harold replied. A blue glow activated around her desk and a camera drone rose slowly from its surface.

Watching the drone rise, all she could think about was how much she missed her brothers. She hadn’t seen either of them in so long. Too long. Their father’s death had pushed them away, but she’d let it. She’d kept them at arms-length to protect them, she told herself. As far as she knew, this could be the last time she’d ever speak to them.

She nodded and the drone started recording.

Hey, Zachary McCrackery! Fighting off tears, she paused for a moment and looked away. As she took a deep breath, she exhaled and collected herself. I’m sure you’ve watched the feeds by now and perhaps have reached the same conclusion as me. It seems that the spokes of our wheel are complete, even if we’re not ready. All that’s left is to let it roll and see where it takes us.

She stared into the camera, letting time pass.

He’ll understand that, won’t he? She’d just messaged him yesterday and here she was sending another one. He’ll be freaked out.

A smile slowly grew on her face as tears ran down her cheeks. I love you, both of you. And Zach… when you see him, tell him I’m sorry. Good luck!

Harold lowered the drone back into her desk. That must have been hard. I’m sure they’ll be okay. They come from good stock.

She struggled to wipe away the tears. Reaching into the desk drawer, she took out a tissue and wiped her eyes.

Satisfied with the cleanup, or at least as good as it was going to get; she re-centered herself for one more message. This one was for the colonies.

2

ZACHARY OLIVAW

SOL, OORT CLOUD

The research facility was codenamed the Wheel. It was located deep in Sol’s Oort Cloud, within a massive 200km planetesimal. The Olivaws had secretly funded its construction over the last century and a half by funneling money from legitimate companies. It was entirely self-sufficient through local agriculture and the mining of water and other necessary raw material in neighboring Oort planetesimals.

Zachary had lived on and off at the Wheel for the better part of twenty years after graduating from the Jovian University. His team of researchers had been building an alternate drive technology to that of the first contact probe. While that probe used warp bubbles to bend spacetime, their approach created controlled gates through spacetime allowing them to jump between two distant points. Nearly six years ago they had a breakthrough in gate research and had been working to perfect it before mankind encountered the Galactic Alliance. Abigail sent word yesterday they may have failed in their primary mission, and that a formation of alien ships believed to be the Galactic Alliance had arrived near the inner asteroid belt.

I don’t care if you think the particle trails indicate direction and velocity. Zachary brought up a three-dimensional plot of the particles velocity over time and space. Look at these waveforms. We’re seeing some type of blowback through the gate after it closes. We’ve seen it before when the gate would ripple open and close repeatedly until the quantum forces stabilized on both sides. I bet it’s still happening at a microscale.

Shauna placed her hands on her hips and tapped her right index finger. The composites of her humanoid shell made a drumming noise that echoed through the sparse workspace. Shauna was his A.I. and research partner at the Wheel, and she enjoyed spending time in a robotic humanoid form at his side. While most researchers depended on huge teams of colleagues, he preferred solitude until his ideas were fleshed out. Most of what he needed for his job was elsewhere in the Wheel. This was his thinking space and was off limits to interruptions.

Okay, Shauna began, let’s say your cockamamie idea is plausible. Where’s the dust coming from? Is it in gate space? We clean the craft before every launch. Unless… it’s tearing apart the probe itself. We should be able to measure that on return.

No, I don’t think the probe’s being torn apart, but you’re on to something. He pulled up the data on the composition of the dust itself. I bet you a case of Scauny, this dust is from the other side of the gate and the probe is displacing it back through the entry side. The forces of the opening are probably pulling the space around the exit and causing the nearby dust to flow back through. When we’re able to precisely predict where the gate opens, we can observe the microscopic effects from the opposite side. We could try mounting some external particle velocity instrumentation on the next probe to measure the effect.

That makes sense. So, like you said⁠—

We’re at another dead end, he said with a forced smile as he rubbed his temple. We still can’t precisely predict the direction nor the distance in which the gate will open. You know how badly we need this, Shauna. You’re getting closer, I can feel it. Start the test over, wipe it clean. He waved his hand over the wall and the data disappeared.

Shauna walked to the corner of the room, turned and then shut down her chassis, transferring her consciousness into the Wheel itself. I’ll prepare the package for the next probe. Do we want this one to return with the results after the next test jump or continue on the relay network? If we do a longer test and route it through Epsilon Eridani, we could have it back in a week.

He walked out of their workspace in the engineering module and headed toward the outer segment of the Wheel. His mind was racing and he needed to think about something else. Checking in on the prototype ship build progress was mundane enough to relax his mind. Go ahead and continue on the relay network. With the alien’s arrival in Sol, we need to know if they’re headed to the colonies. We don’t want any gaps in our colony intel if we can help it.

Stepping into the lift tube, it immediately propelled him upward toward fabrication. It was disconcerting flying through a tube without a floor or ceiling, but it was much more efficient than waiting for a pod. Up to four people could navigate the tube at a time and they could move up or down independently. Only a few hundred personnel were stationed at the Wheel, so even when they were busy, there wasn’t much chance for a collision.

As he de-tubed, his retinal comm notified him of another message from his sister Abigail. He sighed. That can’t be good. As the president of CoPE, she didn’t make a habit of sending multiple comms so close together, especially within twenty-four hours of each other. And with the last one carrying bad news he wasn’t exactly excited about opening this one. He paused outside the entrance to probe fabrication, subvocalizing a command to play it.

The comm was short and to the point, and his sister didn’t hold her emotions back. His stomach knotted and his eyes welled with tears as he watched her struggle. She had a disheveled appearance and her cheeks were a little pink, like she’d just finished doing something strenuous. Their family resemblance was unmistakable. Deep blue eyes, round friendly cheeks, and short hair were giveaway Olivaw family features.

At the end of the comm, he watched it again. Abigail always spoke in code when she sent messages, ever since they were little. She believed that you never knew when someone might intercept them, so don’t make your intentions clear to anyone except the receiver. She was clearly signaling that the Wheel should move forward with the next stage of their plan. Even if she’d enacted it indirectly, she knew the risks.

The weight of her words and her decision were immense. He’d seen this coming. Her comm from yesterday had been as clear as day. The Galactic Alliance was here. She may not have wanted to admit it, but as a scientist the data was conclusive. He played the message again. He couldn’t risk missing something she’d wanted him to see or hear.

When the comm finished a third time, he brought up the attachments. There was one time-stamped before hers and another tagged to send to the colonies. He opened the first and played it.

Shit!

What’s up, Zachary? Is everything ok? Pepper asked. She was one of their pilots and probe engineers. She must’ve returned from maintenance work and he hadn’t heard the door open from the hold. Her normally friendly face framed in long black hair and brown eyes were staring at him with concern.

I wouldn’t say everything’s okay, no. You know that test flight you’ve been preparing for? Is there any chance you can move it forward?

Maybe… I’d have to cut a few corners, Pepper said fiddling with her instruments on her hip. She brought up the projected timeline for the project on their comms. We’re getting close, I think. I should only need a few more days and it’ll be ready for a short-piloted jump. Is that soon enough?

He honestly didn’t know. That might not be fast enough, but they’d cut corners in the past and got burned. The Wheel’s first few rounds of animal trials were a complete disaster and set them back months. While they’d eventually made it past that point, they’d been cautious in their pace ever since. This launch was their first human trial and they couldn’t afford to lose a pilot.

Pepper opened her mouth but said nothing. She swallowed hard and shook her head. What is it, Zachary? Is something wrong with my work?

No! Your work is fantastic, Pepper. I just think we should check if we can squeeze anything out of that timeline. Anything at all without risking safety. He stressed the last part.

Absolutely. I’ll see what I can do. Pepper turned and headed back into the hold. As she walked away, she paused and looked back over her shoulder. Is everyone still getting together for the usual family dinner tonight in the canopy?

He struggled a smile. I wouldn’t miss it. See you then.

She turned and headed back into the hangar. He watched as she passed through the door, continuing to fiddle with her tools. Her mind was probably racing and struggling to make heads or tails of what he’d asked her to do. There were countless details neither she nor most of the people in the Wheel knew. But that would come later. For now, he had to focus. There was so much to do.

He brought up the Wheel Protocol to do list he’d created with Abigail on his retinal comm. Checking off tasks was comforting, and he could use something comfortable to do right now. He turned and headed in the opposite direction of Pepper, toward the entrance to probe fabrication.

Walking up to the door, he placed his hand on the security console. The authorization took place between the panel, his fingers, and the nanites in his body. The door dilated and shut behind him when he walked through, sealing him in with a thud.

Despite everything being automated at the Wheel, he was compelled to physically check on things from time to time. The practice of checking helped put his mind at ease and allowed him to do his best work elsewhere, reassured that things were operating smoothly. He’d developed this behavior not long after the accident that killed his father.

Throughout this section of the Wheel, there were hundreds of probes in various stages of fabrication, repair, and teardown. Between micrometeorite collisions, constant retrofitting of new power and propulsion units, and expansion of the network, there was a constant churn to the fleet of probes serviced here. They had a mixture of probe designs in their fleet. Designs they’d copied from the first contact probe, and probes of their own design using their prototype gate drive. This was the only facility in Sol that had the designs for the original alien probe and they were only accessible to Harold and Abigail, his sister.

At the control wall, he gestured to bring up the probe network controls. The wall burst to life with visuals for all inbound and outbound probe traffic, as well as all repair and fabrication details. He quickly identified the next two outbound probes headed for the colonies and pulled up their data storage. Taking the attachment from his sister’s message, he loaded it up along with the required colonial security protocols. He also added the queued colony feeds and another payload necessary for this stage of the plan. The last one he secured with additional encryption to ensure no one could detect or tamper with it. Once he was happy with everything, he queued them both up to launch.

Before closing the controls, he marked all probes with the same physical design as the first contact probe for destruction. They couldn’t afford to leave anything incriminating behind that pointed to humanity. Any probes still en route to the colonies would either self-destruct once in range of a relay point or be dismantled upon arrival at the Wheel.

He chuckled. The Wheel name had been a joke in the early days. They’d used it because they were working to reinvent the proverbial space travel wheel, but it unexpectedly stuck. In those early days, they strictly fire-walled the first contact probe research to prevent intellectual contamination with designs of their own. The hope was that they could develop something similar but different enough to avoid accusations of theft from the Galactic Alliance. Engineers from the new design team could use observed test data from the alien probe, but nothing physically from the probe itself. The separation forced teams to find their own creative path forward.

He double-checked his work on probe recycling and then commenced the Wheel’s data expunging. All images, all recordings, all first contact probe research wiped. One advantage of a facility that required fewer humans was the ease of destroying evidence. If there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that his colleagues would notice the missing data. He’d break the news to them tonight after dinner and drinks in the canopy.

Walking out of probe fabrication, he stopped to check that the door locked before heading toward his next stop. Happy with the seal, he continued down the long hall toward the ship hold. The research and engineering spaces in the Wheel were clean and modern, a stark contrast to the dynamic and colorful nature of the residential space. It helped to keep the mind focused and on task. The smells of metal and electronics were soothing.

There were dozens of ships in various stages of fabrication when he arrived in the hold. Some sat dormant, quietly awaiting one final but key component, their gate drive. Others were just starting or were partway through the fabrication process.

Looking at the far end of the hold, he could make out his ship. His pride and joy. He’d designed it to be both capable and flexible enough for the challenges they might encounter in the next stage of their mission. The ship was cracked open and stripped of external plating. All the armaments and skeletal structures were exposed. At the moment, its interconnects were being diagnosed and tested by dozens and dozens of robots.

When he finally made it to the end of the hold, he subvocalized a command to deploy a measurement drone. The zippy little spherical robot’s sole purpose was a thorough and accurate measurement of everything it passed over or touched. Pulling up the drone’s feed, he walked the exterior of the ship, visually comparing the designs in his retinal comm with the measurements from the vessel itself.