Work in Progress

Chapter 8

         "What's the situation?" Mike asked as he entered the command deck.
         "We began to receive RF transmissions a few minutes ago.  Galactica analyzed the signals and believes they're coming from the aliens.  He says it's a digital video signal."
         "That would make sense since they don't speak."
         "That's what Oksana said.  G'dala has translated most of what he believes to be language and downloaded it to Vesna, the house, and Galactica.  We're just waiting on Oksana before trying to return the transmission.  It's a good thing you equipped this tank with old-fashioned RF transmitters as well as the gravity communicators."
         "Never go on patrol with a half-clip," Admiral Teramore said.  "Mike's known for covering all his bases."
         "Here you go," Oksana's voice came from behind them.  The young woman carried a laptop with neck strap and one of the translation units.
         "Sorry it's so bulky, but it's the best I could do on short notice."
         Mike accepted the equipment and briefly kissed her on the cheek before tuning to John. "You should do that more often."
         Both young people blushed as Mike turned to Oksana. "I seriously doubt anyone could come up with anything remotely close in 20 minutes."
         Oksana blushed again as Mike put the strap around his neck and clipped the translation unit to his left shoulder.
         "Galactica.  Can you decode the transmission and put it up on a screen?"
         One of the video monitors in front of the crew flashed to life to reveal a sauropod resembling a Chinese water dragon whose dewlap, a large flap of skin at the throat, was rapidly changing color.  The audio followed after a short pause.
         "I am Captain Roshama of the ship Tingli.  We are explorers and we mean you no harm.  Your Ambassador Rostov on Anosh told us of you and your exploits.  We had to come and meet you in person."
         "Captain.  I am Mike Angel and this is the ship Galactica."  The LCD panel at Mike's chest flashed colors.  "We are also peaceful, but this ship is capable of defending itself."
         "I understand.  That is prudent.  We learned of your success at Anosh and would wish to meet with your people about entering an alliance as you have with the Anglii."
         "I'm certain that can be arranged."
         "We are not an aggressive people, but we are not the total pacifists that the Anglii are.  We have had several skirmishes with the ones you drove from Anosh and we do not know if we are capable of protecting ourselves.  We desire an alliance with a people who have had experience and success dealing with this threat."
         "I will arrange this.  If you do not mind Captain, I will send several of my ships out to guide you and follow us to our home."
         "Thank you.  Your Ambassador Rostov also sends all of his best wishes to you and his countrymen."
         "Thank you Captain."
         The connection broke and Mike turned to Mikhail.  "Get the guys out to meet that ship and then get us home at warp speed."
         It was Misha's turn to make a sour face at the Star Trek reference.
         
         Mikhail assigned ten pilots to go out and escort the alien craft to Earth as Mike went into the ready room and sat down in front of a video console and pressed several numbers into a keypad. 
         "Valery!  Good to see you."
         "Da.  Good to speak with you again, also."
         "Who are these guys you sent my way?"
         "You mean Captain Roshama.  He's one of the good guys.  The Anglii have traded with them for a century."
         "They're OK then?"
         "They're not as pacifistic as the Anglii, but they're close.  They're traders by nature and have been in space for about two centuries."
         "Well, if you say they're alright, I'll bring them home for dinner."
         "They're total carnivores and have their own food with them."
         "That was just an expression of speech, Valery."
         "I know.  My English is not good any more and neither is my Russian."
         "Next time you play Ambassador and send somebody in my direction, give me a little warning.  I've probably freaked half the planet with an unexpected first contact."
         "I will remember to do that.  Life here is so relaxed that I forget we humans are supposed to be suspicious."
         "OK then.  I'll let you know how everything goes."
         Mike pressed another button and then another series of numbers.  The screen split in two and the left panel sprang to life.
         "President Link, good to see you."
         Before the President could say anything, the right panel also illuminated.
         "President Dubinov, I have President Link on the other line."
         "Angel," Link continued, "Just once I wish you would get a second opinion before jeopardizing global security."
         "I agree with your President," Dubinov said.  "What do we know of this species?"
         "Ambassador Rostov vouches for them and tells me that the Anglii on Anosh have traded with them peacefully for over a century."
         "You trust his judgment?" Dubinov asked.
         "Of course!  He was part of my team before he retired.  I trusted him with my life once and I'll do it again."
         "Well," President Link cut in, "you're trusting him with six billion lives at the moment."
         "Not a problem for me," Mike said with a straight face.  "I'm bringing these guys down to Nellis.  I would like a couple dozen armed APs standing by with their weapons holstered, though. We'll be there in an hour and the rest will be there in about eight.  I'd like the two of you present, if possible.  I'm going to call Secretary Jopurnan next."
         "Are you able to arrange transportation?" President Dubinov asked. "It will take Aeroflot or my private jet eighteen hours to arrive."
         "I'll have Vesna pick you up at Sheremetyevo Two in an hour."
         Both Presidents nodded and the screen went blank.
         "Vesna?"
         "We're getting ready to lift off.  Everybody else is here."
         "I really hate it when you eavesdrop."
         "I know," came the sarcastic reply with a giggle.
         Mike pressed several more numbers and the screen sprang to life.
         "Mr. Secretary," Mike said to the Indian Secretary General of the United Nations.  "I've been out earning my keep."
         "So I hear.  You could at least brief us before you expose us to the total unknown."
         "That's pretty much what Presidents Link and Dubinov just told me.  I haven't let you down yet and I don't plan to.  Guess who's coming to dinner."
         "I heard," there was distaste in the Secretary's voice.
         "I've been assured they're OK.  I'd like you to be out at Nellis when they arrive in about eight hours.  I already have Presidents Dubinov and Link on their way.  The more diplomats that are present, the better.  That's not what I do best."
         "I know," Jopurnan's voice still held distaste.  "I've observed your department for two years now, and your interactions with other politicians and diplomats for longer than that."
         "You can always fire me," Mike said brightly.
         "I believe your wife has an expression that is appropriate; 'yeah, right!'  It is unfortunate that you know that you are the only person who is suited for your position."
         Mike grinned into the camera.  "It's what I do."
         "I'll be there when they arrive," the Secretary said with a frown and the screen went blank.
         
         "Oksana," Mike said as he walked back onto the command deck. "I need you and John to assemble more of the translators as soon as possible."
         The young woman turned around at her position.  "He's already assembled six more, but we've run out of laptops.  We should be able to have the other seven put together within an hour of landing.
         "You've been hanging around Vesna too long!"
         The woman gave him a quizzical look.
         "You're ahead of me."
         Oksana turned back to her console, but everyone on the command deck could hear the giggle.




Ben W. Gardner
Sedona, Arizona

"I do not fear computers. I fear lack of them." --Isaac Asimov

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In The Beginning - ISBN:  1-4116-3848-4
Just In Time - ISBN 1-4116-3851-4
Ad Astra - ISBN: 978-1-84728-518-8
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