Beyond the Orion Nebula

1

Admiral, there’s only three specs around us, the signal officer said.

They knew they were beyond the nebula now, safe from any explosion aftermath. They’d been badly battered by the shock waves, suffering injuries, some of them serious, and damages in sections of the ship superstructure.

What does it mean? Lieutenant General Bash asked.

It could mean several things, maybe an instrument malfunction or… , Admiral Cedric said.

There’s only one way to find out, Lieutenant General Bash said.

Jordaan, take us back to sub-light speed, Admiral Cedric ordered.

The Jordaan, the master pilot of the mammoth battleship, rushed to introduce the appropriate commands into the navigational computer.

They heard the distress signal as soon as they jumped back. The hypercamera focused on the source, showing a heavily damaged battleship. The other two ships had escaped the incident unscathed. There was no sign of one of the transports, and that meant bad news; it was the ship carrying the weapons factory. To make things worse, the skipper of the damaged battleship had requested permission to abandon ship; they were already transferring the casualties to the hospital in the remaining transport.

Do you see it? Admiral Cedric asked.

No, there’s nothing else out there, the signal officer said. But I can’t be 100 percent sure. There’s a lot of noise caused by the nova explosion.

Do we know where we are? Admiral Cedric asked.

Not quite yet, the navigational officer said. But there is a planetary system a short jump ahead. It’s not our target, though.

Admiral, I’m detecting an extremely weak signal coming out of that planetary system, the signal officers said. It’s in a frequency not in use since ancestral times. I picked it up by accident.

Can you pin it down? Admiral Cedric asked.

I’m trying to, I believe so, the signal officer said.

It’s a ten-planet system around a stable type G2 sun. I’m picking up its spectrum, the navigational officer said. Maybe we can establish an external orbit to make repairs while we determine the source of the signal.

What is your opinion, Lieutenant General? the admiral asked.

Well, it’s not too far away. That’d give us some time to make repairs and see if we can recover the missing transport. Lieutenant General Bash looked worried and troubled by the loss. It was a major blow to their plan. We must tow the damaged battleship with us, we cannot leave any trace of our presence, he added.

Let’s be cautious in our approach until we determine the source of that radio signal, Admiral Cedric said.

I have it now, the signal officer said. We’ll be able to see some intercepts soon.

The display in front of them was covered with lines originated by transmission noise. The filtering system then took over, and the first image appeared on the display. It was an image of a huge gas planet with multilayered rings in orbit around it. Soon, there were ten additional images showing details of the rings and at least two moons orbiting the planet.

It looks like somebody is making an exploration of that planet, Lieutenant General Bash said. That could only mean there’s an intelligent race somewhere in that system.

Then we need to be extra cautious in our approach. We must go into orbit to make repairs, Admiral Cedric said.

Yes, sir, I agree! Lieutenant General Bash said. He’d already made plans inside his mind to take a shuttle to the ringed planet and find out what was going on.

2

Look, Amelie, we’ve docked inside. Arianne referred to her sister by her single name, a thing she was allowed to do only in the utmost privacy of her closed quarters.

Space workers, aided by flying automated robots that made most of the hard work, had built a docking station orbiting around the system’s outer planet, an ice-cold rock; The workers had a long task ahead, dismantling the damaged battleship to recover materials and parts that could be used as spares to repair and refit the three ships left behind by the cosmic event.

Arianne had fully recovered from the moments of panic that had grabbed her after she’d tried to bring Amelie back from her suspended-life sleep. The ship’s extreme vibration had somehow affected the electronics of the automated bed, and she’d found the control on standby. She’d called for help, but the technician in charge was nowhere in sight—they later found him unconscious on the floor. The tech shift supervisor had turned the bed back on again, and then he’d switch the bed into the normal awakening sequence, but Amelie had come back with convulsions. That had prompted doctors to take her to the ship’s intensive care unit. In a few hours, she looked normal. So they thought! But Amelie had continued to suffer from intermittent periods of cardiac arrhythmia, which baffled her doctors.

Both Arianne and Amelie felt a wave of excitement with the possibilities that the discovery of a new intelligent race would offer to them—a new world joining their alliance, an advance operational base into the previous unknown territories. Arianne wanted to send an explorer team there to gather information. She’d discussed the pros and cons with Lieutenant General Bash, but he wanted to be more cautious in their approach. They’d been intercepting all transmissions into/out of the probe in orbit around the ringed planet.

By now, they knew the probe was receiving commands originated in the third innermost planet of the system, which they were now naming the Waterworld, because two-thirds of it was covered by water. Instrumental surveillance also showed a breathable atmosphere, but most important, they were picking up faint signals in different bandwidths, suggesting a busy activity on the surface of the planet.

At Arianne’s insistence, Lieutenant General Bash had agreed to send a stealthy, unmanned probe into a high geostationary orbit around the Waterworld. The data obtained had brought some excitement, but at the same time, some alerts (voices and images) showed a bustling population, but not a single race. They spoke many languages—some similar in origin, others quite different—and there was at least one war going on. The voice data had been fed to their high-speed processors. Translations were coming out, and the meaning added more worries. It showed a world in profound disarray.

At this news, Amelie had reacted with apprehension. What are we going to do about it?

We’re having a meeting later, Amelie, to discuss the findings. As a matter of fact, I’d better get dressed or I’ll be late, Arianne told her.

And the meeting had really gotten Arianne thinking. The good news is that repairs were going well. The damaged battleship had been taken apart completely, and spirits were high. The bad news was that supplies were running low. But the most pressing situation was Amelie’s health; she had not made a full recovery. Dr. Davi-Dalidan, head physician, thought she needed to spend some time on a real-gravity environment.

Would you consider setting up a temporary base on the Waterworld? Dr. Davi asked.

Finally, after some heated discussions, they’d decided to send a manned explorer to the Waterworld.

3

Not a single word from them yet, General. They were in Admiral Chali’s private cabin, sipping a cup of highlander dark tea, considering their options. They had fortified their positions around Baros One and Two, once they had recaptured both worlds with the help of the local population, and around the Epsilon Pass, taking full advantage of the opportunity given to them by the withdrawal of Prince Narbonne’s forces. They were still savoring their small victory. Prince Narbonne had grown suspicious of their intentions after suffering two straight setbacks, and they’d fed misinformation to him, making him believe there were more surprises in store for him.

But now their attention was on the whereabouts of the princess’s fleet. They should had reached their destination by now, activated the relay stations, and sent out a signal confirming they’d arrived well. The lack of it had General Bali edgy.

We must send an explorer ship there soon.

Even though there is a risk of revealing the location of our base in Bunganoon? Admiral Chali asked to probe the general’s intention.

We shall minimize the risk by not taking a direct route into it. What could have gone wrong? The route had been well charted by our previous expeditions, General Bali said.

It’s lonely and dangerous out there, even with all the advancements of our technology for traveling into deep space.

General Bali paced impatiently inside the room.

General, it’s not your fault. In any case, the two Arrowhead Explorer Battleships have been serviced. They’re ready to go, the admiral said to him. We’re holding our positions here, and so are the king’s forces in the Alidonian Royal Planet System. It seems the right time to go, General. He looked into Bali’s eyes before providing additional information that had been confirmed to him just before the meeting. Prince Narbonne had gone back to Maris. It’d take him some time to recover the initiative.

Then I shall depart tonight, General Bali said with conviction.

Princess Arianne could hardly contain her excitement while she scrutinized the data coming from the explorer’s team. They now had weather patterns, air data showing pollution at acceptable levels, samples of botanical and animal life, and, the most important, a good idea of what the Waterworld military capabilities were. A shocking discovery was that people in the Waterworld ate the meat from dead animal species. The fact perturbed her as the Alidonians had been vegetarians for countless ages. In any case, the Waterworld vegetables were different but safe to eat, and some of them proved to be delicious according to the report. The team thought they might be able to cultivate them on board, in the ships hydroponics’ gardens.

As distracted as she might have looked, Princess Arianne listened to the discussion around the table. Major Balesh, commander of the explorer team, had made a request to infiltrate one of their cities, New York, possibly their greatest city and financial center. It was time to offer her opinion, she thought.

We look like them. We already speak their idioms. In an eight-million-people city, our team would be virtually invisible among the locals.

We’d need some of their currency to move around in a big city, Lieutenant General Bash said.

Not necessarily. Their data processors are primitive in comparison to ours. The team had already broken into their data banks, Princess Arianne disputed. They have plastic cards to move currency and pay for things they need. We could easily manipulate their databases to hide our transactions.

Excuse me, Princess. Somehow, that sounds to me like something coming out of the Eudoris World, Admiral Cedric said. They all laughed at the comment.

The Eudoris World was a heaven for gambling and illegal banking activities and a safe harbor for smugglers. All account owners and transactions were kept secret. At odds for a long time with the Alidonian government, who wanted to shut down all illegal activities, Eudoris had quickly aligned with Prince Narbonne’s side when war broke out.

Nobody would be hurt, we’d be just hiding our activities, Arianne added to defend herself. There was more laughter around the table.

Princess Arianne, if your father could listen to you… , Admiral Cedric said.

You’re right, Princess Arianne, but… it’d probably be illegal according to their laws, Lieutenant General Bash said.

Perhaps… we might be able to set up a legitimate business operation over there. That’d provide us with the currency needed to finance our activities legally, Princess Arianne said, to keep pressing on the subject. She was now thinking about Amelie’s health and had taken a subtle look directly at the eyes of Dr. Davi.

I agree with you, Princess Arianne… that our advanced technology might give us an edge… but we’ve got to be careful about introducing advances, no matter how simple they’d look. That might prove later difficult to explain, or worse, that might provide them with a starting point to develop powerful weapons. Would you please, remember the Polidonian incident? Lieutenant General Bash said.

There had been one instance, well documented in the ancient Alidonian archives, of one intervention in a developing world that had gone wrong. The locals had further developed the assimilated knowledge over centuries until they’d found a way to build weapons of mass destruction. They’d got greedy then, threatening a neighboring colony, forcing an intervention of the Polidon world by the kingdom’s forces.

Dr. Davi felt it was time to say something. Whatever you’re going to do, let’s do it fast. I’d like to have Princess Amelie-Alidan on the ground as fast as we can.

We understand your concerns as they’re mine as well, Lieutenant General Bash said, looking uneasy. But there’s an intelligent race on that world… and we’ve got to guarantee that they don’t discover we’re around, at least until we feel they’re ready for it.

We’ve done this kind of thing before, Admiral Cedric said reassuringly. Let’s just follow the protocol for an undetected intervention in a foreign world as established in our procedures. We got to find a way to take Princess Amelie-Alidan to the Waterworld soon. Our physicians told me she doesn’t appear to be fit for hyper-light speed travel.

There was a long period of silence around the table as all present in the meeting considered and weighed the options. Lieutenant General Bash looked apprehensive as the heavy load of his responsibility had taken a toll on him already. This is not the way this mission was supposed to turn out. We had made the trip to Bunganoon at least three times, he thought. He continued pondering the consequences of the decision he was about to make. Finally, he addressed everybody around the table.

I can see we’re in agreement… It’s a go then for Major Balesh. I’d give him the approval personally. Lieutenant General Bash started for the elevator to go to the command and control center (C&CC). He trusted they were doing the right thing.

4

C aptain Venice Ned Veda rested on a bed, half naked, inside the solarium, a huge glass dome containing a variety of exotic plants and flowers, representative of the botanical life found in the Alidonian Kingdom. Prince Narbonne sat by her side, rubbing her back with the finest massage oil available in the kingdom, its perfume entangling with the garden aromas. He looked quizzically at Major Kukoc, his intelligence chief, who was delivering her daily report.

We presumed she must be hiding outside of the boundaries of our known universe, sir.

How could it be possible?

Major Kukoc thought for a while before advancing a possible answer, measuring her words carefully. We have reasons to believe that those rumors about deep space exploration by the Alidonian Royal Space Force were true.

Prince Narbonne felt a chill inside his bones. He’d heard the rumors; he’d even seen some of the officers of the Deep Space Explorers Corps. He had even tried once to bring one of them into their side, but at the time he’d been busy with the planning to overturn King Ali-Alidan. How could he have ever imagined that all those decades of exploration beyond the known boundaries would have had any consequences on his plans?

Are we in a position to confirm the information?

Well, sir, they’re holding their lips tight. They even run sweeps for bugs inside their quarters at every shift. And no talk of any kind, beyond the customary salutation, in front of service personnel. This had hindered my informant from getting any useful information lately. But she stopped short of sharing that thought with him.

What about our mole in Bali’s fleet?

As I just mentioned, they’ve grown suspicious about leaks. Security is much tighter now, she answered.

Any info coming from the king’s quarters?

No, sir, nothing useful. We have listening ears over there… but we’re confident the king doesn’t know, has not even heard of her whereabouts. He’s been briefed of our encounter in the Epsilon Pass though.

Major Kukoc, your report is quite discouraging… You’ve got to do a better job shortly. Prince Narbonne measured her when he spoke. She was a tall brunette with a fiery, icy look, pretty but at the same time dangerous, and highly efficient in doing her job. She wasn’t deterred by any legalities or protocols in order to get the information she wanted. He’d thought about bedding her once, but… that icy look!

You didn’t answer my question about our mole, Major.

I’d prefer not to risk him now. He’s hiding deep inside the chain of command. Eventually he’ll prove to be more valuable to us. In any case, General Bali should be considering to make a move in the near future. If he does, we’ll find out what it’ll be.

Prince Narbonne concentrated on Captain Ned Veda’s back again. He rubbed her from waist to shoulder, switching hands, along both sides of the vertebral column, pressing hard. He knew the pressure would delight Venice greatly, and it always pleased him so well, preparing them for what was coming in a few moments. He pondered his thoughts; he felt an urge, difficult to contain, to use their mole to try to find out Princess Arianne’s secret base, even if that would compromise a valuable asset. But Major Kukoc had proven her wisdom time after time. He was certain she had more than one operation going on at the moment. She’d probably come up with something soon. He made up his mind.

Very well, Major Kukoc, we’ll do as you’d suggested. Let me know immediately when you discover something new on the princess, even if it looks meaningless.

Yes, sir. As Major Kukoc turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of Prince Narbonne disrobing himself, turning Captain Ned Veda up, and laying on top of her. In the stillness of the garden, she heard Ned Veda moaning. Prince Narbonne was so immersed in his act of carnal love that he failed to notice Major Kukoc’s contempt in her demeanor as she walked away.

5

Good morning, Mr. Baleshkii, Richard Cohen said, extending his right hand with a big smile on his face. Welcome to Richard Cohen & Associates Realtors.

My pleasure, Mr. Baleshkii answered while holding Mr. Cohen’s hand.

How was your trip, Mr. Baleshkii? I understand you arrived last night.

Boris. You can call me Boris. In reality, I arrived two days ago. I wanted to take a day off in the city.

Yes, of course, Mr. Baleshkii… Boris. Would you care for some coffee?

Sure, thank you… just sugar, please. Befuddled by the brew, new to him, Major Balesh had developed a strong liking for the drink, making several stops a day at whatever coffee shop he’d encounter on his way around the city. He smiled to himself as he heard the earthling calling him Boris. He’d been tempted to choose a name starting with another letter, not an A of course, that would have been presumptuous, but maybe a C or a D as in Davidoff—he’d seen the name in a boutique in Madison Avenue. But then he’d decided to stay with his corresponding B because he liked the sound of Boris, a name suggested by Noemi, a woman hybrid on his crew.

Is this your first time in New York, Boris?

Actually yes, I haven’t had the time to visit before… quite a city, eh?

Indeed, Boris. And you’d like it more once you get to know the place better.

A waitress came into the room carrying a tray with a pot of freshly brewed coffee, cups, and a tray with an exquisite variety of Danish crackers.

Hmm… It smells good, Boris Baleshkii said.

I’m proud of the quality of the coffee we serve to our clients, sir. Our clientele is highly selective, normally people who know where the good things in life are.

Like the property you are trying to sell me?

It’s indeed a fine site with an exquisite house; very private… and the price is right.

Yes, it is, Major Balesh thought. The site of an abandoned Alfa-F missile silo—a very primitive weapon by Alidonian standards—located in Adirondack State Park, near Lake Placid; two thousand acres with a private airstrip, a hangar big enough for two small planes or one of our shuttles once small modifications are introduced, and a ten-bedroom house above ground with a full kitchen; and below ground, accessible from a door located in the family room via stairs, a two-level dorm in what once was the communications center, with enough space for our supporting crew. And better, huge doors opened to a large tunnel that accessed the silo with an additional twenty thousand square feet of usable space; ideal for the factory we have in mind. On top of that, there was a high chain-link fence around the property, not that we’d need it to protect the property, but it will deter the earthlings from trespassing.

And the princesses had gone crazy when they’d learned the area was a famous ski resort with several championships runs on the nearby Whiteface Mountain. What a coincidence! In a world so far away from ours, skiing was a popular sport, notwithstanding differences. Our equipment was much superior in technology, allowing for much higher speeds than theirs. He was still surprised by the so many similarities between the Waterworld—Planet Earth, as the locals called their planet—and his world. But the technological gap was so huge!

And you’ll find the mortgage conditions are suitable to your schedule, Richard Cohen said.

Major Balesh turned his attention to Mr. Cohen again. He was glad they’d hacked his computer to find out the asking price for the property. He found out later that their lawyers had been able to negotiate it down to eighteen million dollars; the realtor had been asking for twenty-eight million.

I hope everything is fine with our down payment, Boris Baleshkii said.

Yes, it is. Our bank confirmed the transfer yesterday. Our receipt is ready.

Richard Cohen had a great deal of doubts initially, derived from Mr. Baleshkii’s claim that he was a businessman from oil-rich Kazakhstan. But the Internet had made things easy lately, and they’d found references for Baleshkii Services LTD in London, a subsidiary of its parent company in Kazakhstan. Eventually, his worries had died down when a lawyer from a respectable firm had showed up by his office to negotiate the deal on behalf of Mr. Boris Baleshkii. And the down payment had been transferred by a Swiss entity on schedule.

I’m glad to hear it, Boris Baleshkii said. Needless to say, it was a mere formality, as he already knew. Noemi had already conquered their data banks.

The closure will be at 10:00 a.m. sharp. Your lawyer should be here very soon.

Major Balesh relaxed in his chair with a big smile in his face, enjoying a second cup of freshly brewed coffee.

6

T he storm raged over Adirondack State Park. A tornado warning had been issued by the National Weather Service since 5:00 p.m. that evening. With two confirmed tornado sightings, everybody with a right mind had taken cover. Everybody but six visitors from the Alidonian Kingdom: one Alidonian male, two woman hybrids—Noemi as one of them—and three man hybrids. The hangar door was wide open, all lights out, and a single man stood in the middle point, just inside the hangar, behind a device supported by a tripod. Lightning was everywhere but on the property, and an unseen approaching cone—twenty-five miles long—that the device emitted, obeying instructions sent by Noemi, working inside the house on an e-pad like device.

The shuttle—unseen to radars on the ground due to its stealth technology—was on its final approach to the touchdown point. It had entered earth’s atmosphere over the Pacific Ocean, behind an old meteorological satellite they had intentionally thrown off orbit, and then followed a path at sixty thousand feet of altitude over the commercial airspace lane into Seattle, entering Canadian airspace, describing a mild arc before flying over Ottawa, and then making a sharp final descent into the inner atmosphere of the Waterworld planet, on a direct approach into Waterworld One, as the team had nicknamed the base.

Major Balesh could now see the noiseless shuttle making its final approach inside the property, moving slowly but steadily toward the hangar. He then picked up the tripod and run inside to make space for the spacecraft.

All clear outside, Major, Noemi said on the communication channel of their nanochips.

Acknowledge. Bring it in, Noemi.

As soon as the shuttle settled quietly on the ground inside the hangar, Major Balesh stood behind the rear of the spacecraft waiting for the door to open. He wasn’t surprised to see Napleon walking out first.

Howdy, Major, he said, walking down the ramp joyfully.

The salute caused a smile on the Major. Obviously, Napleon had been watching all the cowboy movies he’d sent to the princess flagship, among tons of other materials.

Are you ready for us, Major?

Sure, Nap. Bring the princesses out.

Out of the dimmed-reddish light, the crew began to walk down the ramp. But Major Balesh wasn’t ready to see Princess Amelie coming out of the spacecraft on an automated medical bed, floating in the air, with a doctor and two woman-hybrid nurses by her side. Princess Arianne was by her side, holding Amelie’s hand in hers, with a serious expression on her face.

Is the medical chamber ready? Dr. Davi asked.

Yes. Please, follow me. Noemi…

Yes, Major. We’ll unload the shuttle AFAWC, Noemi answered, using an anachronism for an earthling phrase—as fast as we can—that Noemi had found amusing to hear in the locals’ way of speech. What she’d found more funny was that, most frequently, action didn’t follow the words. Noemi waited until they finished unloading the equipment and the last of the crew got out of the craft—just six human Alidonians out of a total of thirty—before punching the outbound spatial coordinates in her e-pad-like machine and entering the clear signal to the two pilots on board. As soon as the shuttle took off, she started to diphase the huge storm that had widely hit the northern part of the United States and Canada over the last few hours.

I hope this thing works out fine, doctor, Princess Arianne said. She doesn’t look right. They were in a long underground corridor communicating the hangar with the former launch control center, now their communications center and medical facilities.

It’s the medication we gave her before the reentry. Our estimate indicates she will recover quickly on this real gravity environment, Dr. Davi said.

But Princess Arianne was far away from being self-assured about Amelie’s recovery. The last few weeks had been a rollercoaster. Amelie’s health improving to the point she was confident her problems were over, and then falling back again without warning. Lately, Arianne had moved her into her royal suite for sleeping, monitors placed on her body while she rested, and two women-hybrid nurses by her side. She had watched Amelie, keeping her composure even though she had been upset lately when doctors requested the suspension of her daily training session, a full two-hour hand-to-hand combat with a man-hybrid trainer. To cheer her up, Arianne had joined her in the 3-D virtual weapons exercise room, a simulated battlefield with extremely difficult combat sequences, requiring a mastering of light and heavy weapons firing. Later, after Arianne had regained her qualification as a master shooter, she took that as a pretext to arrange a little party in her quarters; they had danced with Napleon and played T-Jon, a complicated game involving a 127-card deck. Once Amelie had fallen sleep, her thoughts had wandered toward her world, her father, and her most cherished friend, General Bali. Suddenly, she realized how much she’d missed him, his presence around her, and their long conversations to discuss how to counteract Prince Narbonne’s mischievous intentions. If only I could send him a message!

Princess Arianne realized they were going downstairs. One of the woman-hybrid nurses used a hand device to keep the medical bed horizontal on the way down. She could see now that the tunnel split in three directions at the end, left going into the above-ground house, right going into the communications center at the former silo, and continuing straight, into a hall where the advanced engineering team had built a downward vertical shaft—a mile long—with a high-speed personnel carrier at the bottom, which went northwardly for ten miles, deep into the core of a hill where a war room had