Chapter Two

Unexpected Arrivals.

Greetings,

We extend our warmest greetings to you, the maker of this small scout vehicle. One of our gate devices recovered it as part of its automatic gathering routines. No harm or ill intent was involved in this act. It was purely automatic, and safeguards are in place to ensure sentient life is not affected.

This discovery makes it clear that there is civilization at the terminus point of this gate, and we do not intend any harm. If you wish us to remove the device immediately, we will certainly do so.

To enable a more efficient and practical choice, we have included some basic information about our species and environment, cultural samples, and a small amount of associated data.

The other scouts will be released at the rate of one a day until all have been returned. If we receive no communication at that point, we will assume the area is vacant and continue with the establishment of a gate.

Should you wish us to stop and remove the gateway, simply send another scout drone to the egg.

All your materials and technology will be immediately returned, and the gate will remove all environmental changes and cease to function.

Please note: No biological material can pass through the gate; please do not attempt to cross if you are an organic life form. Should you wish to cross, we can send instructions for safe passage.

Kindest regards,

Administrator Ilf-Five.

The words hovered on the screen, and Nellie could still not believe what she was seeing.

The scout had been moved back to the Bly’s Rest, where it now sat in the center of the conference table, a small isolation field surrounding it, while the senior staff gathered around, reading and examining the data it carried.

Even Paren had turned up, which was nice. She was spending too much time in her lab these days. She always had, but it seemed different since Banjo died.

Scrolling through a copy of the information the drone contained, Nellie was struck again by how familiar it was.

Not the information itself, which she was struggling to accept was real, but the idea behind it. Earth had long ago sent out a craft called Voyager 1, and they knew it would one day leave the solar system and eventually encounter alien life. As such, they included things to give them information about humanity. A variety of greetings on a golden record, as well as basic information about human appearance, biology, and so forth. Later ideas evolved to include some popular misc and art, which was pretty much a reflection of the spirit of humanity.

That was pretty much what she was looking at right now.

There were greetings in a number of computer languages, mathematical equations, and even some images that looked like art and sound files that might possibly be music.

The really mind-blowing part was the information about the species in question.

“Not silicon-based life, then?” Nellie asked again.

“Yes and no?” Paren suggested.

“That doesn’t help me understand, Paren,” Nellie said tartly.

“Not my fault you can’t understand shit,” Paren shrugged. “Do you have any idea how complicated a silicon-based lifeform would have to be just to function? The temperatures they would need to function? The problems with expelling waste? Anything like that?”

“No,” Nellie admitted happily. “Aren’t I lucky to have my very own genius to explain it to me?”

“We don’t have that amount of time,” Paren smirked. “But short answer? Sort of. They are clearly a silicon-based life-form, but most of what little we have here suggests automation, not organs.”

“Machine life?” Nellie asked.

“Sort of?” Paren shrugged. “I don’t really get it yet.”

“Oooh, someone write it down,” Baz teased. “We finally found something Paren can’t figure out.”

“I never said I COULDN’T,” Paren growled. “Just that I hadn’t YET!”

The discussion about the nature of the new people was long, complicated, and more to the point, mainly over Nellie’s head. What she could do was look at the pictures. The art that society created often told you more about the people than anything they would willingly say.

Modern art was not something Nellie would ever say she understood. It was all abstract, dealing with the adjustment of formulas no one had ever bothered to teach to an orphan girl from the wrong end of everywhere. It was also a massive window into the society that created it. Those in the know could properly appreciate what they were seeing, finding genius or failure in things that appeared random at best and bullshit at worst in the eyes of those NOT in the know.

It was a perfect example of how modern society had structured itself. The top one percent of people had become so separated from the other ninety-nine percent that they literally saw different worlds. The two groups could no longer look at the same picture and see similar things. It was a complete disaster for society's future. Even the French Revolution and the sudden Guillotine fad were caused by a smaller cultural and economic gap.

By contrast, the graffiti art of almost every culture in the world was nearly identical—the same with Tattoos. They were the art of the people, a true expression of the roots of society, and showed how much more people had in common with someone half a world away than with the top ten percent of people in their own country, let alone the one percent.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

As such, she flicked past the pictures of the more ‘official-looking’ art to examine the more improvised-looking stuff. Then she went back and looked again.

“I think we should contact them,” Nellie said after a while, cutting the escalating argument in half.

“Why?” Lucy asked, seeming shocked even if she had been as silent as Nellie had.

“Look at these,” Nellie flicked the images up into the holoprojector, replacing the image of the new lifeform.

“I don’t get it,” Paren shrugged. “I mean, it’s weird but sort of nice looking?”

“Look closer,” Nellie grinned. She had no idea if it was her pattern recognition upgrade or what, but it was as clear as day for her. “These all have several things in common.”

“What do they mean?” Salem asked.

“No idea,” Nellie admitted. “But that isn’t the point. The point is that there is commonality right across the board.”

“They could have selected for that,” Lucy noted.

“True, but that at least means they know what it means. They are a connected society, somehow.” Nellie insisted. “I get a really good feeling about this, for some reason.”

“That’s the problem,” Lucy said severely. “So do I, and it might be spreading across to you.”

“There has been something weird with you and this egg since the start,” Nellie said, “We’ve all seen it.”

“I know,” Lucy snapped. “That’s the problem. It’s like something is pulling me towards it, some instinct or something. I’m an AI; I shouldn’t even have instincts.”

“Then we need to know what is going on,” Nellie shot back. “If something was messing with me, we’d deal with it, right?”

“I suppose,” Lucy said after an interminable pause.

“We do it smart and careful, but we do it,” Nellie told the others. “Did they give us instructions for how to do that?”

“We have a simple storage device design at the end of the information. I guess we put our answer in that and throw it at the egg?” Paren suggested.

“It’ll do for now, I guess.” Nellie stood, and the others followed suit. “Salem, formulate a copy of this message, including the same kind of information about us, and send it through. The message is simple, ‘Looking forward to meeting you soon.’ That’s it, everyone.”

===<<<>>>===

Nellie hesitated outside the door to the palatial quarters she shared with Lucy. For the first time in months, they were going to be in the same room, with no one else around for longer than a few minutes.

It was long past time she did this, so why was she so afraid?

Hell, the very idea of them getting married was kind of redundant. They were joined at the head, never apart in any meaningful way, even if she sometimes missed her girlfriend's physical presence. None of that changed the way she felt, and staring at the pristine white enamel on the walls was not going to change that.

It was just a simple, little question.

Nellie took one long, deep breath and raised her hand to the sensor to open it.

“ALERT! ALERT!”

“Putain!” Nellie swore bitterly as she had her implant call up a secure comm line to Salem. “What is it?”

“We have something trying to sneak through the system,” Salem called. “I have notified our patrol, and they are moving to intercept.”

“On my way,” Nellie growled and flicked the sensor bitterly as the door opened and closed.

“Lucy is here via holo call from the planet,” Salem added after a moment. “She headed straight back down after the meeting.”

“I see,” Nellie growled and stalked toward the control room.

Right now, she just needed something to shoot at.

By the time she got to the command deck, Salem already had tracking on the problem, with a live map up on the displays. Nellie could see the light cruiser Talon closing on it very quickly.

“What is a scattering field doing on a ballistic trajectory to the station?” Nellie asked immediately.

“We have no idea,” Salem said quickly. “There are no power readings we can see; I’d assume it was a scanner error if we didn’t know the Clutch could do something like this.”

“The Clutch wouldn’t hide as they approached,” Nellie told her. “There is no point, and they are almost pathologically open.”

“Agreed,” Salem nodded. “Orders?”

“Get me the Talon,” Nellie said and waited while the command crew opened a channel to the bridge on the light cruiser.

“Orders?” Crush asked immediately. He was wearing the lazy smile Nellie had learned meant he was anticipating a fight.

“We don’t know if it is an enemy, so I was thinking a warning shot across its path,” Nellie said. “Unless you have a better idea?”

“I might,” Crush’s smile widened.

“Do it,” Nellie told him, “But try not to start a war.”

“Oh, I don’t start them,” Crush said confidently. “Ended a few but never started one.”

Nellie nodded to close the line and joined Salem as they watched the Talon vanish off the screen, dropping out of micro-jump fractionally ahead of the scattering field, shields fully powered and focused on the stern as it activated a strong counter burn.

The scattering field vanished as a long, thin ship appeared on the scan, thrusters, and drives flaring into life as it maneuvered madly in a vain attempt to avoid the light cruiser.

The Talon vanished again, appearing alongside the frantic craft and putting to use the one thing Nellie had insisted on adding to every one of her ships.

“Grav Tow is locked,” Cara’s voice called into the station. “We are bringing them into the Rest now.”

“Well done, Talon,” Salem replied. “We’ll meet you in the airlock.”

Remy was already dockside with a detachment of Centrums when the Talon and its cargo docked. The mysterious ship was pushed into the docking clamps, which locked in place before a layer of nanites activated to weld the clamps against the hull.

While the Centrums spread out, taking up firing positions, the airlock cycled, revealing the three Marshalls who had been running the Talon.

“What are we looking at, Crush?” Nellie asked.

“You can stand down the guns,” Crush told her, his posture relaxed. “But maybe hand me yours before you speak to our guests.”

“Why?” Nellie asked.

“Just in case you decide to shoot the messenger,” Crush said with a shrug.

“More good news?” Nellie asked.

“Sure is,” Cara sighed. “You might have to shoot them anyway; they are extremely irritating.”

“Excuse me?” A deep voice called. “Mind if I introduce myself?”

Nellie turned to see… something. That was all she could really say at first.

Three figures were emerging from the clamped ship’s airlock, and they were TALL.

“I’m Captain Blagden, owner and operator of this fine piece of technology here.” The long arms and legs were almost comically thin, like a stretched image of a person, but the skin was entirely red—not pink or reddish, but a thoroughly and deep, rich red in color. They moved strangely, but that could simply be because of the length of their limbs.

“What were you doing running hidden through our system?” Nellie asked, ignoring the confident smile on the too-narrow face.

“Well, I don’t tend to advertise our whereabouts, as a rule,” Blagden said, emerging from the airlock and standing up straight for the first time. He and his two crew members were nearly nine feet tall, and their ship suits were lined with what appeared to be a small exo-suit. It wasn’t enough to do much, from what she could tell, but more seemed like something to help with handling gravity.

“You’re a smuggler,” Remy said calmly. It wasn’t an accusation, more a statement of fact.

“We certainly are,” Blagden confirmed, “But what else can get through a blockade?”

“What blockade?” Nellie and Salem asked immediately.