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CHAPTER6
The dawn of a new day. An important day. Joe sat bolt upright in bed. He was well rested. He had slept the sleep of the dead – no dreams, no tossing or turning, just absolute rest.
Hawk was already up and had breakfast ready when Joe entered the kitchen. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said abruptly. “Let’s eat before we go.”
Joe devoured his meal with the manners of a wild dog. He was famished. He had not eaten in two days. After some small talk and his third helping, he said, “Let’s rock!” and headed for the door.
Hawk drove the company ATV to the crash site and down the slippery slope to within a few yards of the wreck.
They both stood hesitantly in front of the partially uncovered craft. Some of the bravado had worn off as the danger struck home.
“Joe, you sure you want to do this?”
“All right, I’ll admit it … I’m a little scared, but look, I’ve already been inside once. I got out OK. There’s more to do. More to finish. Here, hold my flashlight up against the fuselage and see what happens.”
It took several tries but finally the door slid open. Hawk backed away uneasily. “Joe, this is amazing. What a discovery, bro!” Then he peered into the darkness of the craft and said, “We should really get some backup on this.”
Joe grabbed him by the elbow and led him inside the craft. “Nothing to be afraid of. Come on, I’ll show you what I found.”
He nudged Hawk forward down a few passageways. Joe had fresh batteries, but didn’t turn the flashlight on because the ship illuminated the passageway.
They stopped in front of a small stall-like room. “After you,” Joe said, pointing the way in, but Hawk hesitated. “This is what I call the Learning Stall, Hawk. I have already been here. This is where you learn new things. This room can teach us how to understand their language, and the makeup of the ship. Maybe even fly her.”
“I don’t want to fly this thing, Joe,” Hawk said, frowning as he backed away from the closet-sized room.
Joe laughed shrilly as he shoved Hawk into the small space and crammed himself in as well. “What could possibly go wrong? I’ve already been through this and I survived. Besides, I could use the company.”
The door closed almost immediately. Joe reached out confidently and gently touched a dully lit orange button, and the chamber began to fill. The boys waited apprehensively as a clear, light-green gel rose higher and higher up their bodies.
“I don’t know about this, Joe,” Hawk said, his voice rising in fear. As the gel reached his chin, he was on his tiptoes. “Joe!” He looked like a dog hanging by his neck from a chain. His eyes bulged in terror.
Since Joe was slightly shorter than Hawk, he was already submerged. Joe’s eyes were open and looking back at Hawk. He was perfectly calm.
Suddenly, a peace like he had never felt before came over Hawk. His panic quickly subsided as the gel engulfed his entire body. He, too, became submerged. The compartment was completely flooded now. Oxygen and breathing did not seem to be an issue, just as Joe had said.
Hawk became tranquil, mesmerized. It was like taking an anesthetic that dulled the pain but kept you more or less awake. His mind became attuned to new and exciting thoughts. He began to hear some alien language. There was a whirlwind of thought, a kaleidoscope of concepts. It all seemed so fast and so random, like riffling the pages of a book and snatching a word or a sentence here and there.
Many things were revealed to the brothers that day. The ship’s brain acted as interpreter. Beginning with what the two species had in common, it managed to link commonalities and then build understanding from there.
Because their entire bodies were plugged directly into the ship’s brain, the speed of learning was very fast indeed. The gel acted as a nearly perfect conduit to aid in the transmission of data. It also regulated the temperature of the boys’ brains. Because of the rapid molecular agitation during information transfer, heat was generated. The gel dissipated this heat rapidly. Overall, their bodies were maintained at about a hundred degrees Fahrenheit; however, their brains were kept at a temperature of ninety degrees to facilitate an easier transmission without causing a massive headache. They bled slightly from their noses and eyes, but the gel digested the floating red cells. The ship registered their DNA and analyzed their health from the discharge.
The craft’s intelligence system had previously assimilated Joe’s human genome system, enabling him to progress at a much quicker pace than his brother. Joe had now advanced to learning about the physical makeup of the craft. How it worked. Where the arteries and circuits were located. Where the propulsion system was located and how it worked. Diagnostics and repair. Once this learning session was over, Joe would have the ability to understand and interpret fluently most of the language and symbols found on board.
Hours passed, but it seemed like the blink of an eye to the twins. Afterwards they found themselves seated on the floor outside the chamber. Hawk was slow to move, but Joe was now more accustomed to the effects and eased his brother to his feet. He half-carried Hawk to the control room.
“Sit here and lean back until you feel better,” he said, easing him into a chair.
Hawk lolled on the chair, but remained upright. His eyes were half open.
Joe had shaken off his grogginess and moved directly to the control panel. He placed the outstretched palm of his right hand about six inches above the surface. The panel flickered to life. Multicolored lights undulated under a translucent surface. A soft voice issued a greeting in English: “Welcome, Joe Grayer.”
Joe’s eyes flickered wide with glee. “Just Joe.”
“Thank you for correcting me. Welcome aboard Alpha III, an intergalactic Class Alpha exploratory scout ship, Joe. Your DNA is identified as ‘Royal.’ Royal override activated. You have control. Voice activated to English.”
With the confident assurance of one who knows his craft, Joe touched a sequence of seven lights. “Main,” he said, looking up.
The wall directly in front of them disappeared and was replaced by a twenty-foot-wide image in vivid blue. “Ship’s prints,” Joe said. A 3-D layout of the craft was displayed. Joe raised his right hand and pointed toward a complex series of symbols on part of the image. “Damage report.” That section of the display enlarged until he held up his hand in a stop motion.
Next, he touched a few more buttons, and the linear image was replaced by a 3-D replica of the craft. “Real-time transparent.” It was as if the ship were made of transparent plastic. You could see through walls, levels, arteries, and equipment. Various parts of the image of the craft were shown in different colors. Joe knew these areas were of concern because they represented possible internal damage. Two spots were blinking. He knew that this meant critical damage. On the positive side, there was no evidence of damage to the external fuselage.
Joe held out his right hand and made a motion similar to screwing in a light bulb. Immediately the image began to rotate.
Joe held up his hand to halt the rotation. “Hawk, look up, look at this.”
“My head hurts,” Hawk groaned, slouching in his command chair.
“You’ll be fine in a minute. Look up at the screen. Look at the damage report. There’s damage to the sections in orange. Do you see?”
“That’s a damage report? Looks like a picture of a spaceship.”
“Well, you’re right. But it’s more than a picture. It’s a real-time image of what the vessel looks like, and the damage is highlighted in orange so we can see it better. Actually there are other colors, but we don’t have the optic range to see them, so those colors look orange or gray to us.”
Joe continued by touching more lights. The image changed again, to a view of intricate arteries and biomechanical switching and sensor devices. “Here is where most of the damage is. Look at the diagnostics. These chemicals have breached their containment apparatus and have been contaminated. They have to be replaced.”
His hands flew over the control panel.
A new image appeared. He continued to explain to Hawk what he saw. “This is the ship’s flight data record prior to collision with Earth. The ship misjudged the power of Earth’s magnetic pull. Look here – you can see evidence of a severe loss of stability as the anti-matter drive fought gravity … and lost. The craft was drawn into the Earth’s pull.”
He continued, tapping his teeth with his index finger: “They were lucky. If the craft hadn’t been pulled to Earth, our sun would have grabbed it and pulled it into its core. The craft would have been destroyed.”
Hawk squinted. “You can see all that? I can only see flickering gibberish. The images make no sense to me at all.”
Joe shrugged. “I guess your learning has not quite caught up to mine yet. Don’t forget I had two days’ head start. Take my word for it, though. What’s on the screen is the ship’s flight record prior to impact. A galactic ‘black box.’”
He pointed at the screen and flicked his hand. The image changed so quickly that you had to wonder if the new image hadn’t been there all along.
Joe stared intently at it. “Here is the damage from the impact with Earth. Surprisingly little damage. The ship has the ability to land under extreme circumstances and protect its internal workings. The exterior shell is virtually indestructible.”
He turned to Hawk. “It makes sense. This ship had to have traveled for hundreds of years at near light speed. The engineers must have calculated that the craft would encounter obstacles in its space travel. The skin had to be super tough to withstand the random asteroid hits.”
Joe reached out his hand, then made a quick closed-fist gesture. The image disappeared. “Time to go. Can you manage?”
“I’m good,” Hawk mumbled unconvincingly as he eased himself to his feet.
Joe glanced down toward the control panel. A clear blue card, the shape and size of an ordinary playing card, was sticking up through the surface. Joe grabbed it, turned, and walked out the door. “Our grocery list.”
They left the control room and walked down a passageway. Joe stopped abruptly and held his open palm up against the blank wall. The wall disappeared with a soft hiss and they were staring at their ATV twenty feet away.
“How the hell did you do that?” Hawk asked.
“Not exactly sure. Just knew what to do. And voilà! Instant door. Kinda cool, huh?”
“Joe, let’s go home. You and I gotta talk,” Hawk said wearily. He took a final look around. It was all quite overwhelming.
The twins sat at the kitchen table. Joe handed Hawk the translucent blue card. He decided that the time Hawk spent in the Room should have enabled him to recognize the alien symbols.
“Can you make out the symbols on the list?”
“No. It’s gibberish,” he said peevishly as he handled the card.
“Hawk, you never even looked. Now look.”
Hawk was fully recovered from the Learning ordeal on board the spaceship. He held it up against the light. It resembled a credit card and was a transparent blue with white symbols etched inside.
Squinting, he said, “Nope, I don’t see … Wait a minute. This is starting to make sense. Oh my God, I can understand this. This is, this is amazing. Joe, I can really understand the list.” He put the card down, and stared at his brother, his mouth forming a perfect O.
“Hawk, that card references chemical components that were damaged in the craft. Without these items, the ship will malfunction in a short period of time. We must replenish the chemicals. But we can’t show the card to anyone.”
“Well, if we can’t show anyone the list, how the hell are we going to get the stuff we need to repair the craft?”
“The list contains chemical symbols. Chemicals are universal, aren’t they?”
“I don’t know. They could be, I guess.”
“This spaceship runs on chemistry. It is organically based. There are no metal wires or motors. All the devices, all the computers, are organic.”
They stared at the table for a few minutes. Hawk got up and poured both of them another coffee. “We’re going to have to translate this into English. Then we can go to someone who can make sense of it. If we’re in luck, there is some kind of universal Periodic Table, or something close enough for us to use.”
“Hawk, you’re right. We’ll take it to Laurentian University in Sudbury. We can ask the chemistry department for help.”
“Shouldn’t we try Yale or MIT?”
“Chemistry is chemistry.”
“If someone can tell us what they think these items are, maybe we can buy this stuff. If the chemistry is universal, they could never suspect its origin is extraterrestrial.”
“With some luck, we can look up manufacturers in the university reference library.”
“Still a long shot.”
“All I’ve got.”
For the next few hours, they translated the list into English.
The next morning the brothers got up, excited.
“Hawk, why don’t you call in sick for the next few days?” Joe said. “Go to the university and see what you can find out. I’ll go back to the ship. There’s more to learn.”
“And what’s that?”
“Well, for starters, how about the crew, Hawk? Where’s the crew?”
“You’re right! There were no bodies. No dead smell. Nothing. Joe, I’ll bet there’s a crew somewhere on board. Probably dead, though.”
“Right. Exactly why I have to go back in. I’m going to run a different type of scan. There’s got to be someone on board, maybe cryogenically preserved. It makes little sense to send an unmanned spaceship millions of miles.”
“Unless it was a mistake.”
“Mistake? What do you mean? What sort of mistake?”
“Maybe it was designed to go into space and return to its planet, but it couldn’t return. Maybe it got damaged. And it just kept going out into deep space. Until it crashed into Earth.”
“You mean a drone?”
“Yeah, maybe a drone. I don’t know. All right, you check the ship out. I’m going to Laurentian to see what I can get. Maybe I can get some samples. Who knows? See you in a day or so.”
Hawk began clearing the table. “And Joe …”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful.” Hawk patted him on the shoulder.
Joe looked up and said, “You, too.”
Both brothers had a strong feeling that their lives were about to get complicated.
CHAPTER7
The weather report on the radio that morning promised an ideal day ahead. Hawk walked into the carport. He noted that the early morning was golden, bright, and clear. Ideal convertible weather. The twins shared a 1958 red convertible Corvette. A gift from their father. Although it was twenty-four years old, it was in pristine shape, thanks to a fiberglass body that never rusted. Its rich red leather seats did show signs of aging – in the wear areas the plastic piping had yellowed and disintegrated.
Hawk folded the top down as gently as he could. It was a tiny black cloth roof with a yellowing plastic back window. It folded neatly into a cavity behind the front two seats.
He took the expressway out of town and joined Highway 17 east toward Sudbury. The trip was uneventful, but Hawk loved to drive. Any excuse to feel the pulsating power of the Vette was welcomed. After arriving in Sudbury, he parked in the visitor parking lot by Laurentian’s main administration building. The place was fairly quiet because only the co-op students were taking classes. Regular classes began again in September.
He got directions to the Science Building. The chair of chemistry was a Professor Yuichi, originally from Japan. The empty hallway smelled of disinfectant. The building was about thirty years old. He found the professor’s office and gently rapped on the door. A muffled voice from within asked him to enter.
Yuichi, a Japanese-Canadian scientist, glanced up at the strikingly handsome young man with the piercing black eyes. He stood and shook Hawk’s hand with a slight bow of the head. Hawk bowed his head ever so slightl
y himself as he shook the professor’s hand.
“Sir, my name is Harry Grayer. They call me Hawk.”
Professor Yuichi smiled. “Mr. Grayer. Are you a student here?”
“No sir. I plan to complete honors physics at the University of Toronto. I start my fourth and final year this September. If it goes all right, I’ll probably go on for my doctorate.”
“A wise choice. What brings you to my office this morning? An interest in chemistry, perhaps?”
Hawk reached into his pocket and produced the handwritten list that he and Joe had worked on the previous evening. “Yes. Exactly that. I have a list that I think are chemicals or formulas. I was hoping you could help me identify them.”
The professor took the list from Hawk and examined it. “There are some pretty exotic compounds here. What possible reason would you have to search these out? Is this a school project?”
“No sir, no project.”
“I don’t think I can help,” the professor said dismissively. “This list is not something a student should concern himself with. Very advanced. Very technical material. Try the Sciences Resource library and do research on your own.”
Hawk leaned toward him with an intensity that made Yuichi pay attention. “Sir, research won’t help. I need to get each of these materials right away. Please help me find them.”
Professor Yuichi removed his small eyeglasses and polished them slowly. “Perhaps I can be of some assistance. School is not in session, so I am most fortunate to have time to help. These compounds are very interesting. Some are organic compounds that are very reactive. So now you say that, not only do you want to know what they are, you need sample materials?”
“Sir, it is the samples that I need. Will you help?”
“Yes, I suppose I will help you, although I am very busy. You are asking a lot of me, young man. Come. We will go to the second floor lab.”