Outward Borne (39 page)

Anticipation of the arrival grew
ever higher. A worldwide lookout began as the landing date
approached. The path of the approaching probe was plotted. There
were sightings as the large vehicle moved into a high
geosynchronous orbit over the mid-Pacific. The lander was, in fact,
only a small segment of the assembly. The main unit, consisting
largely of the engine that would power the craft back to the
Outward Voyager, would stay in orbit and wait for the landing craft
to return from the surface. This was the first time the ObLaDas had
attempted to land a living being on any planet. The rapid
deceleration, with its extreme g-forces and prolonged stress, would
be so severe that the human body could survive only while immersed
in a pressure-distributing chamber. Immobilized, unconscious, with
intravenous feeding, and respiratory assistance, their bodies would
deteriorate rapidly. The landing probe would require fifty-two days
to slow from the Outward’s cruising speed and enter Earth orbit
even at the most extreme deceleration that could be tolerated. No
delays were acceptable. Some deaths were expected. It was a very
dangerous trip, and the end game was more hazardous still.
Resuscitation and recovery would require flawless robotic
operations and the ability to provide whatever emergency medical
care may be required. When alien species were captured and brought
on board the Outward, the ObLaDas themselves, with full access to
the Outward’s medical facilities, could provide the care needed to
revive the captives, here, the Voyagers recovery would be entirely
dependent on robots with their limited ability to deal with the
unanticipated. It would have been a disaster to all should those
systems fail and the worst happen. The craft was equipped to return
intact should the landing go badly wrong.

It was clear and warm throughout
the western United States the day the lander entered the upper
atmosphere, tracing long, looping spirals high in the sky. The
glint from its polished surface was visible from California to
southern Washington during most of its slow descent. As the flight
straightened its path over southern Oregon and entered its final
glide south along the crest of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, fewer
and fewer people were able to follow its path. No one actually saw
the craft touch down. The remote valley was uninhabited that
afternoon. The landing site was an official wilderness area then
called Tower Canyon, a pretty high-mountain meadow in the Sierra
backcountry, about forty miles north of Yosemite Valley. The site
was hours from the nearest road at that time, though it is now a
tourist Mecca.

Moments after the craft landed, a
stream of very small flybots were sent out to hide in the nearby
cliffs and trees where they would wait and monitor the flood of
people and military forces that were already making their way to
the landing site. The first to arrive and attain their moment of
fame were Rick Gregory and Evelyn Oesterbaun. They had been camping
in the Hoover Wilderness just to the north of the canyon, and were
so out of touch with events that they were unaware that the entry
was taking place. That ended abruptly when they saw, heard, and
felt the lander fly close over their campsite and then disappear
behind nearby trees. They ran to the edge of the ridge in time to
see the ship resting at the south end of the meadow. Rick had his
pocket computer and took some photos as they approached the ship.
He had the foresight to upload the images to his website or they
would never have been seen.

As is well known, U.S. military
helicopters were the next to arrive at the landing site. They had
been in flight even before the craft touched down. The Army men
took Rick and Evelyn into custody, confiscated their possessions,
and began to set up a secure perimeter around the valley. They did
not have enough troops to do it, however, and before more could
arrive, the populous descended upon them. There had been an
announcement that unauthorized flights over the area would be
forbidden, but it was largely ignored. The meadow was already being
overwhelmed by an armada of news helicopters, private planes, hang
gliders, and sky jumpers that poured into the canyon, to be
followed by a horde of hikers that came through the wilderness as
fast as they could. They came and they would stay.

The lander was the size of a small
passenger jet, but with stubby wings and a fat, sculpted body.
There were no windows anywhere, but it had some panels that looked
as though they could be removed, and doors that slid open and
closed very quickly. A small, complicated thing emerged from the
top shortly after the craft settled. Other than that, the ship
stood quiet and motionless at the base of the meadow, sun glinting
off its shiny silver surface, a foreign mechanical presence in the
state of nature. The first people to arrive pressed closer in their
excitement than the military wanted them to, but eventually, the
Army succeeded in setting up a permanent barrier a short way off
from the lander. They all waited and speculated.

Within the lander, the Voyagers
were doing as well as could be hoped, but their transfer was not
without incident. It was not widely publicized, but two Voyagers
died during the mission. They deserve to be recognized. Alex Alexon
was a young man of twenty-six years, not handsome by any account,
but well liked and admired. He was a gifted mathematician with a
well-reasoned, practical approach to life. The ObLaDas had high
expectations for Alexi and expected him to emerge as a leader of
the Voyager community on Earth. His death was a great loss. Alexi
died en route after his life support system malfunctioned and he
failed to receive sufficient nutrition to survive. Sherit NorBa was
only sixteen, the youngest voyager. The petite, pretty, personable
child did not recover from the flight and died on Earth without
seeing the blue sky, her fondest wish. It seems that she was too
young and frail to bear the hardships of the journey. Thirty-five
people survived the flight, though several were exceptionally weak.
They recovered, but required most of the available time to gain
sufficient strength to stand and walk out of the lander into the
glare of the sun and worldwide attention.

The Voyagers brought their dogs,
of course, sixteen of them. In spite of the ObLaDas’ reluctance
expend resources for the dog’s sustaining chambers, the people
refused to participate in the mission unless they could take their
favorite companions. So dogs returned to Earth, where they turned
out to be wonderful ambassadors, and were once again a convincing
affirmation of their masters’ humanity.

There were no messages of any kind
from the Outward Voyager. It, and the one hundred and ninety-three
humans still on board, was moving quickly beyond our solar system.
Their intentions and destination were never made known. Nothing
more could be done for those who had embarked on their new life.
Only a small satellite remained. It would silently monitor events
on Earth, and someday send its information to ObLa.

The U.S. Army had established a
cordon around the landing craft, and was making plans to take
control of the Voyagers as soon as they left the ship. A large and
growing signal team monitored the craft and made continuous
attempts to establish contact. The ship was exchanging low-level
signals with something, the flybots they learned after one was
triangulated. The army’s signals were being received, but the only
transmissions from the lander were some indecipherable clicks and
squeals. Two weeks had passed in this decidedly anticlimactic way
before the Voyagers were able to respond. Ragnar Jondar, the
designated leader, was too weak to make the planned announcement,
so the task fell to Tullie Umdohar, a twenty-three year old
seamstress and aspiring painter. Fourteen days after the landing,
she made the first direct radio contact with the people of Earth.
The Voyagers had a simple, low power radio receiver/transmitter
that worked on a single frequency. Tullie was not familiar with the
thing, and had some difficulty getting it to work. When she did,
she heard a bored young man repeating, for the umpteenth time,
“Echo Bravo calling lander, please respond.”

So she said, “Yes, hello there.” Not very
momentous, but easy to remember.

Surprised, the communications
officer scrambled to find his commander. The senior officer at the
landing site, Colonel James Fitzsimmons, introduced himself, but
Tullie had a hard time understanding his accent, so she did not say
much. The Colonel had three daughters and this person sounded like
them, just a shy young girl, he thought. Well, he had his orders,
and without asking about the Voyagers’ wishes, he laid out the
Army’s plans to remove them from the ship and the immediate
vicinity. In brief, all occupants would put on protective clothing,
evacuate the ship at the first possible moment, after which they
would be decontaminated and transported directly to a military
hospital where they would be held in quarantine until it was
considered appropriate for them to be released.

It was unfortunate that Ragnar was
not able to participate in a dialog with Colonel Fitzsimmons. It
might have avoided some misunderstandings. As it was, Tullie did
not know what to say. She declined to comment on the suggested
agenda, which she found rather scary, and went on to read the
message that the Voyagers had prepared. The ObLaDas had instructed
them to make some kind of appearance as soon as they were able. So
the Voyagers had organized a brief presentation that would be made
from the lander in two days time, even though most would be far
from ready to leave.

“
Two people, Rodik Norik and Cari
Umballa, will emerge from the lander and make a brief address of
greetings. They will stand on a platform, but not put a foot to
Earth at that time.” Tullie paused, was it the right way to say
that? “After their brief address, they will reenter the landing
craft and wait until all of the People are recovered so that they
can make the momentous step onto Earth together.”

There was no immediate reply.
Colonel Fitzsimmons was surprised that the girl was speaking
English, though she was difficult to understand. He was in
continuous contact with his superiors, who were, in fact, listening
in, so after a brief pause he communicated their expressed
objections. No appearance by the Voyagers was authorized at this
time, adding that it was not considered safe for them to do
so.

“
CorNel JaMes,” Tullie never knew
anyone who did not have a two-syllable name and she did not know
what his title meant, “cannot your safety concerns be addressed by
withdrawing your people from the vicinity of the lander to whatever
distance you would consider adequate?” It seemed to make sense to
her. She never suspected that the Voyagers safety might be at
risk.

The Colonel, perhaps a bit
surprised by the blithe response from an obviously young woman, was
about to restate his ‘no public address will be permitted’ demand,
when a signals officer pulled him aside, and told him that the
conversation was being broadcast live. In that brief moment, the
announcement of the Voyagers’ appearance had flashed across the
blogosphere. The Army did not own all of the tech gear in that
valley. Several individuals, as well as the news organizations,
were monitoring and transmitting the conversation live, or almost
live. It was an impressive display of networking.

Another voice came on; this one
was a little more diplomatic. “FitzSimmon Colonel JaMes, our
apologies if we seem to have done something inappropriate, but it
is our understanding that as long as we remain on the lander, we
are able to conduct our own actions. Therefore, you do not have
authority over our behavior. We wish for your welcome, and we are
pleased to be here, and we will be pleased to speak with you on
arrangements in the future.”

Colonel Fitzsimmons was not sure
where these people had gotten their ideas, or if they were even
getting their words right. They would be correct if this were some
plane arriving at an International Airport, he supposed. That was
some kind of stateless territory, at least until you passed through
customs. This was hardly the same thing, he thought, but maybe they
were correct. Fitzsimmons had no feelings against these people and
would not press the issue beyond his orders. Conceding the
appearance, he stated that no media would be would be permitted to
record the event, citing the same safety issues as before. The
voice answered that no such arrangements would be necessary. The
Colonel was not sure what he meant by that.

At 2:00 PM PST, on a fine Tuesday
morning, when the main hatch first cracked opened beneath the
lander. Two rather large flybots emerged; one flew over the
mountain meadow, passing close to the surrounding troops,
spectators, and nearby mountains, some with patches of snow still
visible, while the other took up a position to the side of the
lander and waited. The images captured by the bots began appearing
on television networks and social media almost immediately, and
continued for thirty-seven minutes, which gave people around the
world time to take out their computers to watch the event take
place in real time. Rodik Norik and Cari Umballa were standing on
the lift as it descended below the lander. The lift stopped a short
distance above the ground and a ramp moved horizontally, bringing
them out from beneath the ship and into the sunshine. They stood,
smiling, made comments to one another, then looked up at the blue
sky and floating clouds, and around the beautiful open valley that
they had chosen. Rugge, an exceptionally tall red racer, stepped
out from behind Rodik and sat to the right of Cari. The three
remained there, without speaking, taking in the novel sights and
smells, respectively. Their image was shown from a low level making
them appear even taller and statelier than they were.