16 - Making the Careful Turn

Christina had nicknamed the stealth modules QTs (short for ‘Quiet Things’), which Nathan thought was so obscure a reference that it was safe to discuss them at the dinner table. The three of them had completed the training designed by The Orb, which had begun with simulations in each of their modules, called QT1 to 3. Christina had pushed to give their modules names. Nathan suspected this was more for Gail’s benefit than to give the vessels any sense of personality. The Orb had reminded them that the QT’s would be de-materialized after they had been used, so in the end they called them 1, 2 and 3. Nathan had accepted QT3 without argument, following Christina’s suggestion that Gail be QT1. Christina was, at least, trying.

Nathan looked out of the window of QT3, using night glasses The Orb had issued. He had seen the ghostly-green images on TV, but that was as close to what he saw now as a child’s finger painting was to a Monet. The 3D render of the landscape cruising beneath him even had artificial shadows to give the landforms textured depth. He felt as if he were flying with nothing encasing him. “How long to the North Korean border?” he asked.

“You will cross into North Korean airspace in eight minutes,” replied The Orb. “You will only be in their airspace briefly at this speed.”

“And you’re sure there’s no way they can detect us?”

The Orb sighed theatrically. “Was hovering all the three modules, for five minutes, above the roof of The White House, in broad daylight, not sufficient evidence that the stealth technology is perfect?”

They had decided on The White House test following Nathan’s joke about watching Madam President take a Number Two. Christina had said that seeing this would, make her year. Nathan didn’t understand how seeing a Presidential evacuation could trump their current situation, but ‘horses for courses’ as the saying went. The main point had been proved, the QTs were undetectable. The secondary point, that the President’s toilet didn’t include a viewing portal for the taxpaying public (Gail had said she qualified via her father on that count), had also sadly been laid to rest.

Nathan rubbed his left thumb into the sweaty palm of his right hand. He didn’t have to fly QT3, at least not at the moment. The Orb was controlling all three modules, keeping them in tight formation.

“Perfect is a state of mind,” Nathan mumbled. 

“Amen,” came Gail’s voice. 

It sounded like she was sitting right behind him. Nathan sighed. He had not yet figured out the communications controls. Why couldn’t the console have a simple mute button? He glanced outside again. The imaging system told him that they were flying over Mongolia. Red icons identified military installations. There were far more of these than Nathan had expected in such a remote area. “What gives with China’s version of Risk?” he asked.

“Beats me,” Christina replied. “My board is lit up like a Christmas tree in a Red Light district.”

“Christina!” exclaimed Gail.

The indignation in Gail’s voice was not genuine, which made Nathan smile. It was good that Christina and Gail were bantering again. They seemed to have forgiven each other for the incident in the cave. They had been working together, helping each other with their flight training and a relaxed atmosphere had returned to the Cavern. This had been a relief to Nathan, who had been worried that their relationship had been irreparably damaged. After the love-in prior to them leaving the Cavern for the QTs construction, they had seen each other only incidentally at school. They had agreed that separation would be the best thing to counter the time they had been spending together. By the time the week had passed, and they had returned to the Cavern on Saturday morning, Gail seemed to have forgotten all about the fight in the cave. She had asked Christina to help her with some menial task that Nathan was sure the smaller girl could have accomplished herself. Christina had applied her physique, and received a smile and graceful hand on her upper arm as reward. Nathan had watched the moment surreptitiously from The Orb’s side.

A beeping noise, not quite as irritating as his microwave emitted after reheating leftovers, alerted Nathan that they had flown over a major military installation. He couldn’t escape the feeling that three triangular objects, each the size of a private jet, should attract ballistic interest from a guy named SAM. 

“Everyone good to go?” Nathan asked.

“Hell yeah,” Christina replied in a gung-ho American accent that her Danish-designed vocal chords refused to let out in true John Wayne style.

“Aye aye, skipper,” Gail said. 

“Ok then,” Nathan said. “Radio silence from here on in. Good luck!” He hoped his friends were as nervous as he was. The Orb had said that it had never been its intention to put them directly in harm’s way. They were to have worked behind the scenes: contacting, directing, planning, suggesting, and collaborating. ‘Hands-on’ missions were to have been conducted by The Orb’s waldos. Where human intervention was absolutely necessary, Orbic Industries was to hire contractors to perform the task. But no security contractor would risk this, no matter how much money was on offer. In any case this mission required secrecy, and the only three people who could keep this secret were now flying in wedge formation into one of the most dangerous regions of the world. 

The Orb was monitoring everything via micro-satellites. These, The Orb had promised, would come to their aid should the need arise. But it hoped that, with the training they had received and the level of technology, they could carry out these missions. Nathan suspected that The Orb saw this a test, as if success would justify its faith in him. To him it felt more like an initiation. The Orb hadn’t said it, but Nathan got the impression that it had staked something on Nathan’s selection. Its attention to detail over the missions had approached obsessive. Nathan doubted that any military mission in history had been planned as well. 

“Luck and bad luck are both aspects of the same problem,” The Orb had said. “A failure to consider all possible risks and opportunities, and plan accordingly.”

To Nathan this had sounded pedantic. It was as if The Orb were trying to justify to itself that nothing could go wrong: three teenagers flying stealth ships into Korea; extracting fifty two scientific and military personnel, and their families, then taking them to an acclimation facility in South Korea; spiriting a nuclear warhead away from a country with the personality of a deranged bulldog; and collapsing a secret tunnel that said country had painstakingly constructed. What could go wrong? A nagging phrase from his father poked him in the mental ribs, “no plan survives first contact with the enemy”. They were about to test this in the most insane way. None of them had any military experience (despite his father’s thinly veiled suggestions that Nathan consider a career in the army) and, despite the near-magical technology at their disposal, there was no doubting that aspects of this were risky. Gail had the worst of it. That she accepted the risks involved as the price to be paid for avoiding executions showed her strength of character. 

*************

Christina had decided that she was going to ask Gail to marry her. How this decision had come about she wasn’t quite sure. One moment her thoughts about Gail had been daydreams of cozy cuddles. Then suddenly, exploding like a balloon given one small puff too many, her feelings had blown into a new form. It pained her not that this decision came whilst she was flying alone, in a ship immune from detection, on a secret mission which might involve her death. Of course it would be worse than death if she were captured and (god forbid) exposed on social media like that poor basketball lady who got stuck-up in Russia. 

So, whilst it made sense to be circumspect about their chances, there was no harm in planning for the future. There was no doubt now that she was in love with Gail. The fight in the Cavern, and their subsequent reconciliation during the mission’s training, had only highlighted Gail’s capacity for forgiveness. This metamorphosed Christina’s crush into solid love. 

If they survived.

Christina had the least dangerous part of the mission. Destroying the tunnel was just taking over The Orb’s part of Plan A. She had a hold full of gizmos that would spawn out and attach themselves to strategic points in the tunnel. She would give the order, and the tunnel would be destroyed. The Orb had assured them that the waldos were biodegradable and undetectable. To any examination, it would look like the tunnel collapsed following a series of unfortunate seismic fractures in the concrete supporting its roof. All she had to do afterwards was push a button, and QT2 would proceed on to the rendezvous point. By the time she arrived, Gail would have the people ready to board, either voluntarily, or in ‘walking dead’ mode. Then: load ‘em up, head back to South Korea, offload them near Seoul, and head home in time for hugs and milkshakes.

Nathan’s job of mining the shaft to the tunnel, guiding the waldos to disarm then snatch the nuke, and getting it onboard QT3 had more risk. And he would share the responsibility for transporting about a third of the people. She imagined the wide eyes that would occur when people boarded Nathan’s ship and found themselves face to face with the bomb. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to stash it that would prevent it being seen. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to have them take a good look at the thing they had manifested to potentially cause a world war. She regretted not being assigned this part of the mission. It would have been amusing to see their expressions. 

Gail had the hardest job. Even assuming that the people were together at the rendezvous point, getting them ready to board the QTs in daylight without raising any alarms was circling the risk wagons. Gail had rejected the idea of mass hypnosis. Conjecturing about the success of the mission had thus enabled Christina to make a formal decision about her feelings for Gail. Perhaps this had been how Marines in World War Two had felt about their sweethearts before heading off to war. It was a damn sight easier to fight like hell for someone who was going to marry you, than for someone who might have found your replacement by the time you were facing a banzai charge in the Pacific. She had realized that the fight in the Cavern had been the turning Point. Whilst she had initially taken the argument as a bad sign, it had dawned on her that perhaps Gail was in the same world that she was in now. Perhaps, like a fairground mirror, what Christina felt was the reflection of Gail’s feelings. Of course, fairground mirrors were warped idols so this was a risky analogy. She hadn’t talked to Gail about it per se, relying on the traditional method of subtle hints to get the message across. This was tried and tested teenage relationship 101. Girls on her football team practiced this consistently, letting their fingers do the talking. Christina had disdained this as detrimental to the energy required to achieve sporting greatness. Now she had rethought her stance on such technical flirtations. She held up her view on using the ethernet to conduct affairs of the heart, but it now seemed completely logical that she used the training sessions to lay subtle hints about her feelings. Any spin off remarks from Gail had reinforced Christina’s view of their relationship. 

The logical conclusion that Christina had arrived at, was that Gail was as much in love with her as she was with Gail. Thus a marriage proposal was only natural and rightly to be agreed to. There was the small inconvenience that they weren’t eighteen yet, but that wasn’t far off and could be born with a prenuptial consensus that it was a formality conquered. 

Damn, but this radio silence thing sucked! She thumbed the comm for The Orb. “Tell me again why I can talk to you thousands of kilometers away, but I can’t speak to Gail or Nathan?”

“The stealth ships operate as an extension of me,” The Orb said. “You and I can converse on a metaphasic wavelength that is undetectable. However, inter-module communications use an ultra-high frequency channel. Whilst unlikely to be detected, it is not impossible.” The Orb paused. “I can relay a message if needed.”

Christina thought of girls passing messages to boys, to pass on to other boys. “Fat chance,” she mumbled.

“You seem troubled,” The Orb said. “May I help?”

“Not likely. Unless…” She decided to take a chance that The Orb was a) able to keep a secret, b) had been confided in by Gail, and c) could be persuaded to break rule a). “…you know how to tell if someone loves you.” 

“If you are referring to Gail,” The Orb said, “I am afraid I am not a reliable source of guidance.”

“Are you talking to her right now?” 

“I am capable of holding multi-stream conversations.”

Jeez, just say “yes”, she thought. “How is she?” 

“She is, I believe you would say, ‘holding up’. She is worried that she will not be able to get all the people out of the country, and that any left behind will be killed.”

Christina already knew that this was Gail’s greatest fear. As much as they had planned it, the bottom line was that there wasn’t enough time to go searching for anyone not at the rendezvous. The QTs were invisible, but on a long enough timeline someone would notice something odd; a flock of birds crashing into one of the modules for example. And North Korea was not a country that you wanted to screw around in, The Orb had been very clear about that. Get in, and get out. If people had to be left behind, then that was what had to happen. Even Gail had begrudgingly accepted this. If they weren’t back at the Cavern before sunrise, then certain unstated (but apparently bad) risks jumped out from behind metaphorical sofas. That The Orb had been required to tell Gail this repeatedly demonstrated how serious it was about getting them back before daybreak. Christina didn’t need detailed explanations. She trusted The Orb. If it said “back before sunrise”, then this wasn’t like her parents saying “back before nine.” The former was an instruction, the latter more of a guideline. 

She had asked The Orb about the QTs offensive capabilities. Yes, it had said they had weapons. No, it didn’t think they would be needed. Yes, if use of weapons was needed, it would be The Orb that would control them. And no, it would not cover their use in the training sessions. So if s**t went down, they would be relegated to watching a YouTube walkthrough. Fair enough, but disappointing. She would have liked to have known what to do if Gail was in trouble. 

*************

Gails thoughts were very much about Nathan and The Orb, as she watched the sky brighten during the twenty-six minute journey to the Korean peninsula. Nathan’s speech at the Cavern a few days ago had stirred her soul. He was the definition of wise beyond his years. And since he had met The Orb it was clear that he had dived even deeper inside his internal self. It was a shame that no-one except she and Christina would know what he had done. Being chosen by an alien species to be their first contact, wow. She wasn’t jealous. She doubted she could have handled it like Nathan had. But she did appreciate him bringing her and Christina into The Orb’s radiance. Somehow it seemed natural. She understood that ‘three’ was a classic trope for adventures. Wasn’t three the magic number? There was also a common sense, practical aspect. If you lost someone, the group could continue with two. Starting with two, and losing one…well, that left you dangerously exposed. Although was it in reality four, including The Orb? It wasn’t human, duh! She believed that The Orb could do it on its own if it wanted to. It had the technical capacity, and it sounded like the waldos could perform most tasks a human could do. 

She didn’t pretend to understand The Orb. Nathan was closer to it than she was. He had been with it longer, and the two of them had a connection she could sense rather than elucidate. She was determined to learn about it though. About its history, and its life before she had met it. She hated that its absence from its planet was causing it pain. However the fact that it endured this to help a species it had no connection to made it even more dear to her. It was sacrificing a fraction of itself every day. They had not even taken the time to discuss when it would return home. She understood that the journey to Orbic would take time, although not much of it. Again, the Orb had been cagy about this. Her guess was that it needed a certain amount of energy to get to the micro-wormhole at the edge of the solar system, the one it had arrived through. So at some point its life force would be depleted below the level needed to get it home. And there was nothing humanity could do about that. A mission to Mars was one thing, and that had taken a humongous effort and billions of dollars. Transporting an alien to the edge of the solar system - even assuming that the governments with enough resources to do the job could work together to achieve it - was in miracle territory. 

She shook her head. Talking of miracles, she had come to understand that her part in the mission might require one of these. The Orb didn’t seem in the mood to hand out miracles like candy, so she guessed that it was buffering her emotional circuit in preparation for bad news. The Orb alone had been in contact with the North Korean officials. It clearly didn’t trust the three of them to handle communications. That was ok by her, she had only ever been good at communicating with animals. Her father said her animal affinity was what would make her a wonderful vet. She’d said that she had just inherited it from him. It was a running joke between them. But deep down she knew she would surpass him, she just had to learn the biology and techniques. Animals trusted her, and she would never let them down. If she had to leave some of the North Koreans behind she would feel like she did the first time her father had put down an animal that she couldn’t save. They’d had a female cat before they moved to Denmark. Sigi had been old beyond her time; blind, and just a bag of skin barely containing the cancer exploding inside her. But Gail had loved that cat. She gave her parents due credit, it had been a family decision. There was no way Sigi could make the journey, so they had prepared. Gail had decorated a box, and helped her mom dig a hole in the rose garden where Sigi loved to sleep in the sunshine. Her father had administered the injection, with Gail holding the purring cat. When life had flown, Gail had placed Sigi into her final bed and closed the lid. They’d taken her outside and buried her deep in the earth. Her dad had bought a dwarf Japanese maple, and they’d planted it above the grave. He’d said that its roots would search out the nutrients of Sigi’s body, and those would help power its growth. Gail had approved the idea. She would never return to the house in Brookline, but she hoped that the maple was growing strong from the sacrifice beneath it.

“Are you there?” she asked, knowing full well that The Orb was listening.

“Yes Gail,” it replied. “I am monitoring your vitals as well as your cortical input output levels. I deduce that you are reliving a sad memory.”

Gail smiled. “Not sad. Well, yes sad but happy sad. I was thinking about something I left behind in America. You left much more behind on Orbic when you came here I expect. Do you miss it?” She realized immediately that this was a dumb question, and corrected herself before The Orb could respond. “Sorry, I mean do you wish you could have brought it with you?”

“The micro-wormhole that I used to travel to your solar system has limitations that did not allow me to bring all that I would have wished. I came with enough basic materials to establish my embassy. Fortunately, your planet contains many natural resources that I can put to good use.”

Gail knew The Orb was being deliberately obtuse. She decided to push it. “You know that’s not what I mean. I’m not taking about ‘stuff’. I mean people…sorry, Orbs that care about you, and would miss you, and be worried about your safety. You’re suffering every day, so I assume your family and friends know that too.”

“Be wary of reading too much humanity into me,” The Orb said. “My species does not think like yours. It is true that some of our values align, and for this I am grateful. Compassion, at least in the majority, is a common trait. But my increasing ailment is no cause for alarm, at least not yet. I can supplement my ultraviolet deficiency with light baths. Of course it is no substitute for the real thing, but it will be at least six months before any serious issues arise. If conditions are met, I hope that my replacement will arrive and take over from me.”

“Replacement?” This was the first time The Orb had mentioned anything about being replaced. She wondered if Nathan knew about this. Damn this radio silence! She had to know more. “What conditions would prevent that?”

“Global thermonuclear war for one.” 

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” Gail said, aghast. 

“Not at all. A nuclear holocaust would kill most of the population of Earth. Any survivors would be subjected to radiation poisoning and most would die within one year. Remaining people would have genetic mutations, and I estimate that your entire species would be extinct within five years. It would be pointless for my replacement to come. It would be arriving at a morgue.”

Gail saw its point. “And assuming we are able to prevent said graveyard, what else would prevent your replacement?”

“To understand that Gail, I would need to explain in detail how life on Orbic is structured. This would take longer than the balance of your journey, which has less than nine minutes remaining.”

“So? Give me the condensed version.” She actually heard The Orb sigh. “C’mon,” she said. “After all, I might die soon.”

“The statistical likelihood of that is less than one in two hundred and ten thousand. However I appreciate what you are trying to do. Very well, the condensed version.”

Gail had an image of The Orb settling back in a gigantic spherical armchair, in front of a roaring log fire, and puffing on a suitably sized Sherlock Holmes pipe. She giggled. 

The Orb said, “Orbs are separated into communities, and these communities are based on practical or theoretical applications. Membership of a community is through tested aptitude, and there are over eighteen million communities. I was a member of the community specializing in interstellar communications, which is how I came to be the one to receive and translate the message sent from Earth in 2008. Once the significance of the signal was established, I applied to, and was granted permission to form, a new community based on Human Studies. This was the basis for my emissary to Earth. Since I am currently the only member of this community, there will be no possible replacement unless at least one other Orb decides to transfer into the Human Studies community. And even then, there is no guarantee that it will want to make the journey to Earth. Transference through the micro-wormhole is a painful experience; the gravitational forces are extreme, even for a structure as robust as our exterior.”

“But why wouldn’t other Orbs rush to join the new community? I would imagine that the discovery of a new, sentient race would have them lining up around the block.” She paused to consider what she had just said. “Assuming you have blocks on Orbic of course. And lines.”

“Structure groups on Orbic are much less rigid than your block system.” The Orb paused. “However, I am afraid that lines are something of a universal constant.”

Gail snorted. “That was a joke, right?”

“Indeed,” The Orb replied. “Am I getting better?”

“Yep,” Gail laughed. “Keep working on it though. Ok, so answer the question please. Why are you the only one in your community.”

“Are you sure you want to hear this? I am afraid the answer is not one that you are going to like.”

“I’ve got broad shoulders.” Gail thought of Christina. “Metaphorically speaking.”

“Very well then,” The Orb said. “I applied for the new community to be created as soon as humanity revealed itself. I had, for some time, become bored with interstellar communications. You can only listen to so many pulsars before they become just noise. I had been considering applying to be tested for transfer to the community studying a certain form of spiritual art. The arrival of the 2008 signal was, you might say, perfect timing. ”

“Art!” Gail could not keep the surprise out of her voice. “You have art on Orbic?”

“Oh yes,” The Orb exclaimed. “Vibrant and defining art. However the specific art I am talking about would take longer to detail than the time we have left. You wanted to know why no other Orbs flocked to the new community. The honest answer is that a computational analysis of your species revealed a ninety-nine point eight percent probability of its self-destruction within three Earth years. If I may be blunt, no other Orbs felt it was worth documenting a species that was going to annihilate itself. The feeling was that much could be learned from the television and radio signals flooding into local space by the placement of micro-satellites in the Asteroid belt. Then, archaeological work could be performed once radiational, biological, chemical, climatological, and any other negative conditions had subsided. I alone wanted to brave the journey, and come here to see Human-Earth. And, once here, I saw enough hope in your species to risk attempting to save it. But I needed help, and you know very well what happened next.”

“You met Nathan,” Gail said. 

“I selected Nathan, and through him met you and Christina. And what I have seen in the three of you has reinforced my belief that humanity is good; that it can be guided away from the destructive paths it has laid before itself. The animal exists in all humans, but Orbs are no different. We have just had more time to train and bury the primeval beast that exists in both our species. I believe humanity will grow to be a shining beacon of civilization in the universe, and we Orbs can be the fire that lights it.”

“Your analogies are getting better too,” Gail said.

“Why thank you,” The Orb replied. “Please do not think unkindly of the rest of my species for not believing as I do. In one sense we are a very practical race. However we also have a deep spirituality that I believe you are uniquely qualified to appreciate. I believe this is one of the similarities that will encourage other Orbs to join me. Now, I have enjoyed explaining a little about Orbic but we are approaching the separation point. In one minute you will need to divert to the rendezvous landing zone in Kumgang, whilst Nathan and Christina continue to PyeongChang.”

“To business then,” Gail said.

“To business,” The Orb replied.