c. 2026 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(5-26)
Arbiter Goland Pick was eager to process surveillance video from the Seagull bot, when it arrived in an encoded stream of data. But upon witnessing the state of their Frigoris-Farragut lander and capsule, at its point of impact near Lake Erie, he realized that any chance of the crew having survived would be slim, indeed. The two-stage vessel had been crushed by its rapid descent to the planetary surface, despite using impeller lift-jets to cushion that strike. Their airborne device circled overhead, mapping out an entire quadrant of land. But no sign of active life was detected. Only a surrounding perimeter of wilderness conditions framed this desolate spot.
The automated surveyor flew in a wide loop while searching, eventually moving down the hillside, pointed east. It diverted randomly toward a forested area, which was thick with rustic, evergreen trees that reached toward the sky. Then, took a visual cue from a formation not common in nature. Its onboard processors recognized this configuration as man-made, and therefore, a possible clue to what past inhabitants might have left behind. More live recordings showed an expansive property, arranged in rows of manufactured homes that were sitting empty. With several outbuildings and a main terminal which appeared to have been used for park maintenance.
None of these moving images held the attention of anyone at Toqua Platte for long. But when the squarish outline of a modernist transport came into view, that lazy mood shifted to a disciplined snap of attentive curiosity.
The Digger shuttle was clearly visible, sitting on a paved street in the midst of this vacant community.
Assistant Eugene Pataki nearly fell off his seat at the forward console.
“SIR! LOOK AT THAT CRAFT, IT CAN’T BE SOMETHING LEFT BEHIND FROM A CENTURY AGO! BUT IT ISN’T SOMETHING WE WOULD HAVE BUILT, EITHER!”
Arbiter Pick leaned forward over his own panel, for a better view. He paused the broadcast stream, and then reviewed closeup shots of the strange machine, while pondering its origin.
“You are correct in that assumption, Mister Technician! It’s certainly not anything we could’ve designed. And not likely to have come from Atlantia or Torontara, as both of those territories are somewhat primitive in their abilities. Do you recall that in the recent past, we detected C-drive emissions over that part of our continent? The whistle of such engines is very distinctive. But those sounds have been silent for many months, perhaps more than a year. This however makes me think that maybe, whoever visited our world before, may have returned for an unknown purpose.”
Pataki trembled visibly, while executing gestures over his control tiles.
“The Prime Keeper will want to be informed, sir! He’s been determined to capture one of those tiny transports, and reverse-engineer the drive system for our own use!”
The Toqua Platte supervisor sighed heavily, while nodding.
“Yes he will, once again you are correct with your thinking. His quest for knowledge has been insatiable. It is the reason all of us work feverishly at this facility...”
Pick gestured over a colored tile that activated a com-line to the governance chambers at their coastal nexus. He had to clear his throat before speaking. A tone of resignation weighed on every word he uttered.
“Attention, attention! This is a priority message regarding our Seagull surveillance. We have news about the Mare Frigoris lunar mission, and also, possible evidence of visitors returning from distant colonies on Mars...”
Lotharian Gardino did not bother answering this direct call for contact. Instead, he ran down a corridor that linked his own office in the complex, to a travel tube in standby mode. His trip to the Toqua Platte facility was brief and exhilarating.
Upon arriving, he literally burst through the sliding doors.
“GOLAND! WHAT THE DEVIL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? WHAT DID OUR BOTS FIND IN THE OLD HEARTLAND? WHAT HAVE YOU UNCOVERED WITH YOUR FLYING TOYS? WHAT CAN YOU GIVE ME TO REPORT TO THE CALIMEX COUNCIL?”
The chief engineer attempted to answer this query in a calm and deliberate manner.
“First, only one of our surveyors has reached the crash site. But it has been able to send a wealth of evidence about what transpired. Second, we believe that our three-man crew is dead, as a result of what the Seagull bot transmitted. And third, while mapping out the surrounding region, that sophisticated apparatus was able to document images of an off-world vessel which is something beyond our own capabilities, or those of our neighbors to the east and north.”
Keeper Gardino exhaled loudly, and pumped his fists in unison.
“ANOTHER SHUTTLE? YOU BELIEVE THIS IS ANOTHER SHUTTLE FROM MARS? I’VE GOT TO HAVE IT, MR. ARBITER! WE’VE GOT TO HAVE IT! OUR PREVIOUS FAILURES CAN BE ERASED IF WE CAN HUNT DOWN ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF THE C-DRIVE TECHNOLOGY! THAT’S WHAT WE NEED TO SHINE LIKE THE SUN ITSELF! IT WILL GIVE US A FOUNDATION FOR GLORY AMONG ALL THE CIVILIZED ENCLAVES! THE COSMIC CREATOR HAS OFFERED US A GIFT I WILL CHERISH, FOREVER!”
Technician Pataki crouched low over his control board. But mumbled a polite note of dissent about the jubilation of his governing leader.
“Prime Keeper, we can’t be sure who brought that craft here to Planet Earth. What if it didn’t come from Mars? What if it came from another galaxy, light years away?”
The elected official burst into laughter. He was amused by the young conscript, and his shyness to embrace bold possibilities.
“Young man, you need to develop more of a spine, I think! We require brave individuals at the helm of this station. Not nervous nabobs who wring their hands and worry! Perhaps I cannot identify who might have brought that strange vessel to our continent, but it does bear a striking resemblance to those we have seen before. If it is from the Martian colonies, then anything incorporated into its design would be useful for us to study. We are on the threshold of many advancements here, all it would take to allow a breakthrough is one chance at peering into the future. This might be a golden opportunity, gentlemen! We can’t risk being left behind!”
Arbiter Pick fell back into his console chair. He knew what directions were about to be given.
“Very well, Prime Keeper. It will be your decision over what course we choose, going forward. Will you request a military team to be sent, over land? Or attempt a mass migration of Seagull bots, to that part of what used to be called Ohio? It is your responsibility to choose. But I counsel you to be cautious. Whatever path we follow will be full of pitfalls and unexpected consequences. Of that, we can be sure!”
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