The Gift
Authors: Dave Donovan
Dedicated to my wife, for putting up with me during the process of writing this book without a single threat of bodily violence and to Denise and Randy Bossarte for all of their assistance in preparing this work. The parts of the story you enjoy the most, and I hope there are many, were likely improved by one or both of them.
C
HAPTER
O
NE
Colonel Eric Web closed the door to the briefing room. It was a nondescript room, the kind you find in government buildings across the country. The furniture was old. The chairs were mismatched and there were file cabinets containing paperwork that hadn’t been referenced in years lined up along one wall. It was clean and neat, the paint was new and the floor was freshly waxed. What could be done with limited funds and nearly limitless labor had been done.
Seated before him were eight people who had been recently rousted from bed, none of them looking his or her best. There had been no time for that. Though Web was the only one in uniform, three of the eight were also military. The rest were civilian specialists. For such a small group, it was surprisingly diverse. An outside observer would be more likely to conclude they had all just exited the same airplane rather than the truth: that they were a highly specialized team. They were one of the United States’ first contact teams, and they were about to put theory to practice.
“What you are about to hear stays in this room. It is not to be shared with your spouse, your mother or your dearest friend. You have all been privy to numerous secrets over the years. None of them have been like this one. Keep your questions until the end of the briefing, and keep an open mind. Captain, please proceed," Web instructed.
Captain Jane Andrews had been standing near the wall behind Web. She was a petite, fair-skinned, green-eyed brunette who was nearly hidden behind Web’s substantial bulk until he stepped away from the foot of the table and took his seat at its head. What she lacked in physical stature, she made up for in both confidence and competence. No one would see enthusiasm in the way she approached the lectern, nor would they see hesitancy. She had bad news to share and a deep understanding that bad news does not age well.
“Ladies and gentlemen, at 03:22 this morning, our GEODSS sensor suite at Socorro, New Mexico detected an anomalous object outside of the orbit of the moon. At 03:27, we re-tasked two SSN satellites in position to verify or deny the sighting and began triangulating. Six minutes later, we had confirmation that the object was not a glitch in Socorro’s systems. Without the recent upgrades to Deep STARE, we might not have spotted this for several more hours. Although it is large, it has a very low albedo. The object is real and is on course to intersect Earth. If it does so at its current speed, the damage could be substantial.”
Despite years of discipline, there were a few brief comments from the group. Web cleared his throat and the noise stopped.
The Ground-Based Electro-Optical Deep Space Surveillance (GEODSS) system was one component of the Air Force’s Space Surveillance Network. Other components consisted of phased-array and passive radar systems deployed around the world as well as several highly classified satellites placed in geosynchronous orbit. The network ostensibly existed to detect, identify and track man-made objects in or near Earth orbit. Everyone in the room, and a very few outside of it, knew it had a secondary purpose: to perform the same functions for objects of extraterrestrial origin. Over the years, there had been a few occasions when it appeared that secondary purpose might become primary, but every sighting of potential interest had ultimately been found to have a logical, natural origin. Until now.
“We have no way of determining the composition or density of the object, but we have put together a composite image developed from observations taken across multiple spectra. The color is a computed estimate, but as you’ll see, that isn’t particularly relevant in this case," Andrews stated as she retrieved a file folder from the top of the lectern and distributed color printouts of the computer generated image drawn from these observations to the group.
“That’s impossible," someone muttered, almost inaudibly.
The image showed what appeared to be a perfect black sphere. There were no visible irregularities, no cratering or evidence of impact and there was no variation in color.
“We have sufficient data, given its proximity, to calculate a reasonably accurate estimate of its size and speed. The object has a diameter of approximately one and one quarter kilometers and is traveling at just over 21 kilometers per second," Andrews continued.
There were several gasps. This time Web did not attempt to suppress their reaction.
Andrews responded, “I would call that a sane response to an insane situation. Unfortunately, I’m not finished. Calculating backward to the original observation, the object was first spotted 1.56 million kilometers out," she paused as she realized she had momentarily lost their attention, “I see you all doing the math. Let me spare you. If nothing changes, the object will impact the Atlantic Ocean at 01:01 tomorrow morning," Andrews stopped speaking, but stayed behind the lectern.
“Thank you, Captain Andrews. Rui, I don’t mean to put you on the spot, but could you explain to the team what we could expect if this object were to impact the Earth?”
Doctor Rui Fernandes was the team’s astrophysicist. A soft-spoken man in his late thirties, he was just over six feet tall, trim and fit. His light brown skin complemented matching eyes and nearly black hair. He hadn’t yet reached the age where gray would start creeping in and could probably pass for a man in his twenties if he were so inclined. Having been happily married for 13 years, with two children he doted on, there was no indication he had any interest in passing for anything other than what he was.
Rui thought for a moment and then began, “With no information on density or the approach angle, I’ll have to make a few assumptions, but, yes, I can provide basic data. If it remains intact and is largely solid, with a composition similar to a nickel-iron asteroid, it will have devastating effects. Within a 100-mile radius, thermal radiation will be sufficient to ignite exposed wood, wind speeds would approach 500 miles per hour and Tsunami waves would vary in height from 100 to 1,000 feet. Winds and thermal forces would remain a threat for about twice that distance and Tsunami waves would threaten the Atlantic coasts of every country that has one.”
“Thank you, Rui. As you all can see, the world has a problem. I’ll open the floor to questions in just a moment, but I want to make something clear. There is nothing that anyone on Earth can do to physically stop this event from happening. We simply have neither the means nor the time to do so. There is also very little that can be done to prepare for such an event that hasn’t already been done. Other teams will do what's possible to evacuate the areas likely to be affected, teams that have prepared for years for that task just as you have prepared for years for your task.
“We have no evidence, other than its appearance, to suggest the object is either intelligent or controlled by an intelligence, but from this moment forward, this team will accept that as its working hypothesis. Ladies and gentlemen, you have been training for years to manage a first contact situation. Please do your best to set aside your fears and concerns so that we may all focus on what may be humanity’s only viable proactive course of action: finding a way to communicate with the anomaly. Now, questions?”
“Who else is working on communicating with the object, Sir?” Asked Major Jack Thompson, a man whose opinion of himself was well known to everyone in the room. Jack was Web’s right hand man, having worked for him in multiple commands over the years. Asking the first question was his way of demonstrating his authority. He was a short, well built man in the typically good shape of most U.S. military officers. He kept his thinning light brown hair in a crew cut, just as he had done for each of the last 22 years. His wife would probably not approve, had he had one.
“In the United States, we’re it. We have access to anything any of us are likely to think of that can be brought to bear in the time we have, but the National Command Authority wants this government’s attempts to be seen as unified and organized. We don’t know which other governments have detected the anomaly. We can be confident some others have, and that they may also choose to attempt to communicate with it. As we have no control over such attempts, we will not waste any of the precious time we have concerning ourselves with them," Web responded.
“Do we have access to allied resources? May we work with our peers in Europe and elsewhere?” Asked Dr. Dan Garcia. It was no surprise that Dan’s first question would be about collaboration; a brilliant man who nearly everyone liked, it simply never occurred to him to concern himself with who gets credit. He wouldn’t say he was surprised to be the chief scientist on the team, nor would he introduce himself as such.
“The short answer is no. The long answer is that we have very little time to coordinate and no sufficiently complete protocol for securely managing international cooperation for this type of event. People in pay grades far above ours are deciding exactly who will be informed when and to what extent. My comments at the beginning of this meeting bear repeating: you will tell no one outside of this room anything about what is going on without my explicit authorization. The folks outside, Captain Andrew’s team, have been sequestered and are available for questions, but that is a one-way street. You may get information from them. You may not share information with them. Is everyone completely clear about this?”
Web waited until he’d received explicit acknowledgement from everyone in the room, then continued, “All right, good questions, but enough about process for now. I’d like the group to hear some questions more closely aligned with the problem at hand: assuming there’s someone or something in the anomaly that is listening, how do we convince it to change course?”
As Web finished, there was a knock on the door. Andrews answered it, listened briefly, then said, “Excuse me for a moment, Sir.”
“What is it?” Web asked.
“Not sure, Sir. I just need to verify something. I don’t want to waste the group’s time on nonsense." She stepped out of the room as she finished. The door closed behind her to an irritated Web.
The technician hurried in front of Andrews until he arrived at his station. He was one of two left to monitor the situation. Andrews had moved the rest of her team to another room to limit the amount of information each of them would gain by staying.