I looked up through the shuttle's observation bubble, toward the ship that hung slightly to port. I had spent nearly ten years onboard SS Foxfire, EC-083, working my way up from green-as-grass ensign to the ship's Senior Contact Officer. Doesn't seem that long when I stop to think about it.
I looked around the passenger compartment encompassed by the bubble. It was empty, except for me. I couldn't even sit with the flight crew; the pilot and copilot were in the tiny cockpit, separated from me by a small airlock. I sighed, stood, adjusted my dark gray uniform jumpsuit and drifted to the rear of the compartment.
I was drawing a cup of coffee and heating a light snack at the food prep station when the concealed speaker chimed. "Commander Bauren?"
"Yes, Lieutenant."
"Just to let you know, Commander, we'll be engaging T-drive in a few minutes. Our travel time to Earth/Topside Station is fifty-seven hours." There was no hint of boredom in the pilot's voice. No hint of emotion at all, really. He sounded young, probably hadn't been on active duty long enough to realize how long fifty-seven hours really is, especially when all you have is a shuttle's meager supply of entertainment files.
It didn't bother me. After what I've seen, nothing in this existence will ever seem ordinary again. "Thank you, Lieutenant." I took my coffee and sandwich back to my seat, and gave Foxfire one last look, it's wedge shape fading into the all-encompassing darkness. A sense of longing came over me; off the ship for only a few minutes and I already miss her. I knew I would return to the ship (Captain Merced already saw to that), I just couldn't be sure when I'd return.
But that's all right. Separation and solitude don't bother me anymore.
I've seen miracles.
There's an unwritten law that says no matter how hard you search for something, you'll be doing something else when you find it.
That's why I was asleep when we found the last of the Mengharan Solids.
I had been up late the night before, helping the team in Cartography organize orbital maps. Foxfire had been dispatched to a small system just passed the edge of explored space. (Explored being the operative term. The human race was out there, but we were still learning.) It was pretty much like all the other systems we had charted; two dead, airless outer planets, a gas giant a little larger than Neptune, two planets within the G2 star's habitation range, and a burning, dead inner. It was fascinating work, traveling within a star system over one hundred light years from home. The only downside was the silence that came from the habitables. Even at the edge of the system, we should have heard something, stray signals escaping from the planet's surface. The same kind of signals that alerted the rest of the galaxy that someone in our little corner of the galactic arm had developed technology and hadn't destroyed themselves. (Not that we hadn't tried.)
As we moved into the system, charting the outers and gas giant, I found myself quickly losing interest. As Foxfire's Senior Contact Officer, I'm the first one sent in if there's even the slightest hint of intelligent life. As we approached the habitables, the more it seemed like I'd have nothing to look forward to. So I helped the Cartography staff, lent an extra pair of hands and eyes to the Science Division staff studying the habitables. For the most part, I stayed out of the way.
So of course I was going to sleep when Foxfire assumed orbit over the outermost habitable, imaginatively named 057/023/03, after sector, system and location. And, of course, I was still asleep when Cartography made their discovery.
My first hint that something was happening came when I was being shaken from my sleep. Captain Merced, knowing that I'm pretty much cataleptic when asleep, felt the situation important enough to send someone to collect me, rather than wait for the buzzer to penetrate my sleeping mind. (He really does know his crew quite well, professionally. Now, if only I could get to know him personally )
The shaking stopped as I rolled onto my back and opened my eyes. I blinked at the impossibly bright light of my small cabin and stared at the two people standing over me. Lynda Fox and Gary Olivarez, two of my Contact Officers. He was reaching down to shake me again when I growled.
"Gary Olivarez, if you touch me again, I'll rip your arm off and beat you with it."
"Of course you will, Tamara." Gary reached down and pulled me up into a sitting position. "Now get up. We have a situation."
"Lynda, you're a witness! He's violating the dead!"
"I'd dive to your aide, Tamara, but he's right."
I stood, adjusted my nightshirt and smoothed down my shoulder length black hair. "What is it? Signs of intelligent life?"
"Almost as good." Lynda started grinning like a little girl on Christmas morning. "The Captain thinks we've found a Mengharan Solid."
That woke me up. My jaw dropped and I stared for a minute. If Lynda had told me the ship's reactors had been replaced by a couple of mice and wheels, I would not have been more surprised. Then the logical side of my brain kicked in. "That's impossible. The Mengharans made monuments of perfect geometric solids. There are only five perfect geometric solids, and five have been found over the past eight years. There can't be any more, unless it's a duplicate."
Lynda went to my closet and pulled out a fresh uniform jumpsuit. "No, this one's a sphere. A perfect sphere."
"Perfect spheres can't be Mengharan Solids. Mengharan Solids are polyhedrons; cubes, tetrahedrons, octahedrons, dodecahedrons, icosahedrons polygons fitted together. Besides, spheres are found in zero gravity environments. They're all over the place. Planets, stars "
"This perfect sphere is in a gravity field, in a planetary atmosphere, showing no sign of erosion."
I took the jumpsuit from Lynda. "It's perfect?"
"Science checked it several times. They figured pi to two hundred decimal points before deciding it was perfect."
I chewed my lower lip and sat on the bed. "A perfect sphere, in a planetary atmosphere. No sign of erosion. It could be. Anything else?"
"They're not sure, but Cartography thinks there's a ring of some kind at ground level, on the eastern side."
"Curioser and curioser. Now, scoot. Mustn't keep the Captain waiting."
It's been nearly sixty years since humankind started exploring the galaxy. The perfection of the translight drive, or T-drive, in 2063, made it possible. It was as if someone opened a door for us. Our ships, built and launched at a phenomenal rate, had found more habitable planets than anyone ever imagined, most perfectly suited for colonization. Foxfire herself was responsible for surveying over one hundred planets. We explored, mapped, examined, categorized numerous forms of life and spent our free time wondering about the conspicuous lack of intelligent life. All the forms we found had been on the order of animals, insects, some dangerous, some not, an astonishing array of plant life.
But what we couldn't find was intelligent life, a race somewhere near us, someone we could talk to.
The only ship to encounter intelligent life was Valiant, ten years ago. According to the reports I've seen, Valiant had been tracing signals into a system devoid of life. In orbit over an airless rock, they found a ship of the Gregorian Nation.
Even though it's been denied, a lot of people think the Gregorians came looking for us. Were they sent by someone else, to contact the human race before we spread out too far? In discussions, their representatives hinted at the abundance of life in the galaxy, and spoke with both reverence and fear of races called the Oevestorie and the Vaztelara. After ten years, though, we've yet to find them.
Eight years ago, things began to change. On a small, airless rock on the edge of an out of the way system, one of our ships found the signs we were looking for, though the little planetoid could have never supported life of any kind. Venture found a perfect pyramid, carved out of native rock, hovering a few meters above the surface. It had an overall height of a little over three kilometers, so it couldn't have been a naturally occurring phenomenon. At any rate, structures that big don't hover, even in microgravity. There were no other signs of habitation on the surface, no cosmic Rosetta Stone to tell us why the pyramid had been built.
Earth Command named the lost architects Mengharans, adopting the Gregorian name for the system. (Menghara, we later learned, meant curiosity. An appropriate enough name.) The Gregorians had no clear ideas about the Mengharans, either. To them, the Mengharans were simply a lost race with some odd habits. The Gregorians didn't seem interested in studying the Mengharans; they seemed to feel there were some things in the universe that shouldn't be studied. Any race as powerful as the Mengharans obviously were might not like other, less advanced races trying to understand them.
Earth Command felt differently, of course.
After Venture found the tetrahedron, Earth Command believed the Mengharans to be a curiosity worth studying; any race that could hover a mass like the tetrahedron without a power source had to be studied. Unfortunately, the manic-depressive President Holm committed suicide right about then, which brought everything to a stop. It wasn't until 2106, when Vanguard found the cube, that Command make the Mengharans a priority again.
All ships were instructed to watch for possible Mengharan Solids. Despite the large number of false alarms, three more Mengharan Solids, accounting for the other three perfect geometric solids, were found: Euripedes found the octahedron in 2108; Cairo, the dodecahedron in 2111; Washington, the icosahedron just last year, in 2113.
Now, Foxfire had found a perfect sphere of immense proportion, with a ring at ground level. Obviously, it had to be a Mengharan Solid. Another accomplishment for the crew, another notch in Captain Merced's belt, and a feather in my cap.
I don't really remember the flight down from Foxfire. I had slipped into my usual, nonchalant frame of mind, full of anticipation and anxiety. Nothing really made it in until I was standing in front of the ring, deep in the shadow of the sphere. I was trying not to feel insignificant. (Put a basketball on the ground, then put an ant in front of it. Then you'll get an idea of how I felt.)
Lynda's voice crackled over my earpiece as we made one last check on my portable equipment. "Comm system looks good, Tamara. Activate visual pickup. What're you thinking about?"
I flipped down the eyepiece and tried to slow my racing heart. "I'm thinking of Keats and Shelley." A quick glance at the scanner package on my right forearm confirmed the perfect function of my equipment. "I've got greens here."
"Confirm that. Greens across the board, although I'm getting a yellow on your heart rate. Calm down." I could hear Lynda tap instructions into the shuttle's computer.
"You come out here and stay calm. Up close like this, watching this sphere hover, it makes me wonder about all of our accomplishments, and how they pale next to the rest of the galaxy."
"If it's too much for you, Tamara, I'll gladly take you place. Keats and Shelley?"
"Yes. Don't you remember Shelley back in school? 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair.'"
"No, sorry. I always fell asleep during literature class. Foxfire's indicating they're ready to proceed."
"Confirm." I looked back at the boxy shuttle, looking out of place in the open desert. Just like the sphere stood out. Probably why it was built here. "You didn't ask me about Keats."
"I wouldn't have recognized it, so I didn't bother. Why do I know you're going to tell me anyway?"
"Hear ye not the hum of mighty workings? - Listen awhile, ye nations, and be dumb." Lynda's only response was silence. It's the usual response when I start carrying on like an annoying English Major. (At least I don't correct their speech anymore.) "Shall we proceed?"
"At your discretion, Tamara. We're recording and ready."
I tapped the recorder package on my left arm, then activated the scanner package. The leads extended out over my right hand and wrapped around my fingertips.
Information danced in front of my right eye. There was nothing really remarkable about the ring itself. "It looks to be native rock. Mostly basalts, nothing exceptional."
"Any energy readings?"
"Just normal background radiation. Nothing that would point to what's holding the ring and the sphere up." I suddenly felt playful. I leaned close to the ring and gasped. "Oh my God!"
Lynda sounded anxious. "What? What is it?"
"Something's written on the ring!"
"Can you read it? What does it say?"
I tried to keep myself from giggling as I said, "Gentlemen must wear a tie after seven o'clock." I gave in and let myself chuckle.
Gary sounded less than amused. "Tamara, can we please be serious?"
"Oh come on, Gary. Lighten up a little. You'll live what the hell?" The outer edge of the ring began to spin, gaining speed as I watched.
"Tamara, what's going on? Not another joke, I hope."
"The edge of the ring has started to rotate. Which is strange, since I didn't see any kind of seam. It's beginning to kick up some wind, too."
Both Lynda and Gary were silent. "Guys, a little input here."
Lynda sounded confused. "Tamara, I'm pulling up the visuals. I don't see any movement on the ring. Sensors show a slight breeze, but nothing really noticeable."
The wind was beginning to pick up, so much so that I was having trouble standing. No matter how I tried bracing myself, I was starting to slide toward the ring.
"I really could use a hand out here!" All I got was static.
I turned to run back to the shuttle, but lost my footing. I never hit the ground; a gust of wind grabbed me and carried me toward the ring. (Thinking back on it, I must have looked like a gray sheet in a tornado.) Desperately, I grabbed at the inner edge of the ring. I hung on like my life depended on it, which, I was sure, it did.
After a minute long eternity, I managed to raise my head and open my eyes. I was praying that I would see someone from the shuttle coming to help me. What I saw was myself, looking perfectly relaxed, arms spread, head back.
I reacted to this, seeing my body standing without me apparently being in it, the way any rational adult would: I screamed bloody murder.
The wind increased and I lost my grip on the edge of the ring.
I can't accurately describe what happened next. It's been speculated that there was simply too much information for my brain to process; there are huge blanks in my memory that I can't fill, no matter how hard I try. All I can accurately recall was feeling like I was passing through a 3D version of the end of that twentieth century movie, 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Initially, it felt like I was carried up into the sphere; I saw its shadow surrounding me as I was carried upward. The darkness that quickly surrounded me was so deep and impenetrable that not even my high-powered flashlight could cut through it. I checked the scanner package and recording equipment. The status lights were still green, which made me feel better. I wondered, though, what they were recording; the eyepiece had gone blank. It felt like I was moving quickly. I just wished I knew where I was going.
That was when the light show started.
There was a flash of light first, like lightning without the thunder. When it faded, I found myself confronted by a circular rainbow. Occasionally, bits of light would break off the main rainbow and fly passed me. At other times, rainbows would come out of the darkness, pass above or below me, then disappear. If I wasn't scared into paralysis, I might have found it pretty.
The circular rainbow seemed to contract slightly, then exploded into shards of light that formed a tunnel that I began to slide down. (Could it have been a wormhole? To this day, I don't know.) I kept the scanner and recorder out in front of me, hoping they would continue to function. Then the images began to form. Mostly they were faces; some looked a little like humans, some didn't. Some were nothing more than indistinct blurs. (I think those were the ones my mind couldn't process at the time.)
My eyepiece came back on line at that point, but most of what it told me was gibberish. Ahead of me, I noticed what looked like a body, traveling the same course I was. Almost reluctantly, I reached for the controls on my right arm and increased the magnification on the eyepiece. At mag-ten, I realized that other body was me. I considered the impossibility for a moment, then looked back over my shoulder. The eyepiece, still at mag-ten, showed yet another me, looking back over her shoulder.
Was I traveling so fast that I was outrunning my past self, yet hadn't caught up with my future self? It was all getting to be a bit too much for me, and I began to wish this ride would come to an end.
Future Me suddenly dropped into a tunnel that formed beneath her. I quickly followed. The light faded, and I began to feel like I was falling. After a couple of minutes, I felt myself slow down, and something solid materialized beneath my feet. I waited for the light show to continue, or whatever was next.
I wasn't expecting to be sprayed with water.
The spray caught me so much by surprise that I jumped back, trying to get out from under it. There was apparently a wall behind me; it felt quite solid when I backed into it. I lost my footing and dropped to the floor, squeezing my eyes shut as I fell, hoping this would end soon.
Opening my eyes didn't help. I found myself in a shower stall, curtain drawn, warm water spraying down on me. I looked around and stood. There was no way to turn off the shower; while the showerhead looked fairly standard, there were no controls.
I stood there for almost five full minutes, letting the water wash over me. It actually began to make me feel better. I looked over the shower curtain and slowly pulled it aside.
I saw myself standing in the center of a standard bathroom.
The other Tamara studied me quickly, her head moving in jerky motions. "Fascinating," she said. "Bipedal configuration, binocular vision. Fascinating."
I stammered a little before I could say, "Greetings. I come in peace." Slowly, I raised my hands to show I didn't have my pistol drawn. "My name is Tamara Bauren. I come from the planet Earth."
"Earth. Yes, we know of this planet. We have walked it before, when life was nothing more than a dream. Tell us, why are you here?"
"Ah, well. My shipmates and I are explorers. We're looking for other intelligent life forms." I started to step out of the shower. I looked down at the floor, half expecting it to disappear when I stepped down to it. When it remained unchanged, I sighed in relief and looked up.
The image of me had changed to Lynda.
She looked just as puzzled as the image of me did. "Explorers? Venturing out from your planet's womb to seek the secrets contained in the stars. You ignore the danger which you cannot imagine. Extraordinary. But we wonder, how did you come to be here?"
"I was examining a ring at the base of a giant sphere. It started spinning and dragged me in. Part of me, anyway, because I think my body, or a copy of my body, is still standing in front of the ring."
"A ring? You discovered our gate?"
"Your gate?" Realization and awe began to dawn on me. "You're a Mengharan?"
"Mengharan? Is that your name for us?"
"We actually adopted the name from the Gregorians. Mengharan is their name for you."
"Gregorians. Avian-reptilian hybrid. They named us."
"Yes. But they didn't want to know anything more about you. My people do want to know more."
The Mengharan smiled broadly. "Curiosity. We remember what it was like. To crave knowledge, to the point where you willingly ignore potential danger. Yes, we remember it well. That was why we left the signposts."
It took me a minute to figure out what the Mengharan was talking about. "Signposts? You mean the Solids?"
"Solids? Is that what you call our signposts?"
"Well, yes. They're perfect geometric solids. What else would we call them?" I blinked, and the Mengharan changed into Gary. "Can you keep one form for a little while?"
"Point of view matters? Content is all that matters, the mode of communication does not. You followed the signposts to the gateway?"
"We didn't find all the Solids ourselves. We found the last one, the sphere with the ring. The Gateway, you called it?" I checked the scanner and recorder, and was rewarded by green status lights. "Can you tell me something about yourselves?"
"You wish to know about us? Why?"
"It's why we're out here, why we left Earth in the first place. We would look up into the night sky and wonder if we were alone. We had to know."
The Mengharan looked suspicious. "Is that your only reason?"
I wondered if I should tell him the truth. What I said was the reason we built and launched the fleet. But we were also looking for new sources of natural resources and planets to colonize. Would the Mengharans judge us harshly, if they knew the truth?
Go for it, Tamara, I thought. "Honestly, no, it's not the only reason. We do want to find other intelligent life forms, but we were also looking for natural resources and planets to colonize. We've managed to exploit Earth's resources, and we've rendered parts of the planet uninhabitable. With our population growing, we need to find other places to live."
"Such honesty," the Mengharan said, a look of relief on his face. "It has been a long time since we encountered candor like this. We had thought it dead."
I leaned against the wall. "No, honesty isn't dead. It's been bumped and bruised a bit, but it's still alive. So, can you tell me more about your race? How did you manage to levitate such massive constructs?"
The Mengharan turned to the side. It looked like he was listening to something only he could hear. When he turned back, he was smiling. "Better to show you." He reached out, touched my forehead and I felt like I was shooting up through the ceiling of the bathroom.
Images began to explode in my mind. I could see the Mengharan workers assembling the Solids, moving huge blocks of stone with subtle gestures. Others seemed to be fiddling with the laws of gravity, working with consoles that appeared to float in front of them. But as I watched, the consoles disappeared when the Mengharans stopped working with them.
Their voices began to whisper in my mind. There was hope in their voices, that the monuments would lead their "children" (as they called the younger races) to the place where they could meet their forbearers. They spent a lot of time staring into the night sky, speculating on which star might support life-bearing worlds. It was a paranoid fear with them, that there were no other races in the galaxy. They quite rightly assumed the monuments would lead any who discovered them to the sphere and the ring, the gateway that would take anyone to this place, which the Mengharans now called home.
The images faded. When my vision cleared, I found the bathroom had been replaced by my cabin on Foxfire. The Mengharan looked like me again. "We were the first race to arise from the chaos. We looked up into the darkness and prayed to our gods that we would find other intelligences to talk to. Until we stopped."
"Why did you stop? If you were patient enough, life would eventually arise."
The Mengharan smiled. "We are patient. We wait with ease. By your reckoning, we come here every thousand years and speak to whatever sentient race is present."
"Have you spoken to the Gregorians? I don't recall any mention of this in their records."
The smile disappeared from the Mengharan's face. "We speak every thousand years, but there is never anyone here to listen to us."
There was sadness in her voice that I couldn't help but notice. It seemed as if the Mengharans, after waiting for life to arise, were disappointed that they still didn't have anyone to talk to. I reached out to touch her, but felt almost nothing. "Fascinating," I said. "You're intangible?"
"We ceased to have physical forms many millennia ago. We exist only as energy, watching the rest of the galaxy develop, still waiting for someone to talk to. We shall talk to you." She smiled and held out her hand.
I took her hand and she showed me miracles.
It was hours before she sent me back through the rainbow tunnel. We had to stop; my recorder was just about filled to capacity. She didn't give me any specifics, of course. She told me just enough to whet the appetites of the folks back home. I don't know if we'll ever reach the point of non-instrumentality, operating equipment with thought instead of consoles, but the concept will keep everyone in the Military Science Division occupied. (Maybe it'll keep them from developing bigger and better weapons.)
The trip back was not as disturbing as the first trip. I knew what to expect this time, so I was able to concentrate on the images I saw. It didn't help; the ones that were indistinct the first time were still indistinct. So I let myself relax as I traveled back to the gateway.
There was a sudden flash of light, bright enough to make me close my eyes. Just as suddenly, I heard anxious voices and running feet. I inhaled sharply as my knees buckled.
Hands grabbed me as I fell. Gary sounded close to panic. "Tamara! Tamara, what happened?" Slowly, I was lowered to the ground.
Automatically, I switched off the recorder and scanner. I massaged my eyes and looked around. Gary, Lynda and the crew of the shuttle were standing over me, looking concerned. Behind them, I could see the ring and the sphere. The ring was no longer rotating, and the wind was gone.
"How long have I been away," I managed to say.
Lynda knelt next to me. "Away? You haven't gone anywhere, Tamara. You've been standing here for three hours."
"Three hours? Can't be." I checked the recorder. Its small screen said Memory Full. "If I've been standing here for three hours, why is my recorder's memory full?"
Gary checked the recorder. "These units have enough capacity for eighteen hours of continuous operation before having to download. How can it be full?"
I struggled to my feet. "Don't ask me how, but I wasn't here. They took me somewhere else, wherever it is they live now. They showed me miracles."
Lynda and Gary exchanged confused looks. "Who showed you miracles?"
I closed my eyes. "The Mengharans. They still exist. I don't know where they are. Another dimension, maybe." I sighed deeply and started for the shuttle.
The others fell into step behind me. "If they're still living, why haven't they made contact with the rest of the galaxy?"
"I don't know. The Mengharan I spoke to couldn't answer that question. All I know is that they're waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
I didn't answer immediately. I just smiled to myself "Tamara? What are they waiting for?"
I looked back at Gary and Lynda, and pulled off my headset. "They're waiting for someone to talk to." I laughed at the disbelief on their faces and climbed into the shuttle.
It took me the better part of two days to put together my report. My biggest problem was getting it all make sense. There were a lot of places where all I could say was "Refer to scanner records, time code " I had no other way of describing what I saw.
Captain Merced spent the next few days studying the report. I knew he had some doubts about it; he talked to Lynda, Gary and the shuttle crew before he called me into his office.
He looked calm enough as I stepped into the office. "Come in, Commander. I have a few questions for you." The Captain waved a hand at the chair on the opposite side of the desk.
I adjusted my uniform as I crossed to the desk. "I imagine you do, sir." I tried to sound like my usual devil-may-care self, but I think I sounded nervous. "If I'd read that report, I'd be wondering what the writer had been smoking."
"Yes, it's not your usual concise report. Are you certain this is the best you can do?"
My eyes dropped to the desktop. "I'd like it to be a little tighter, sir. Unfortunately, most of what I saw I just can't put into words. A lot of the images were indistinct blurs, probably because my brain couldn't process all the information coming in." I looked up at the Captain and shrugged. "I don't know what else to say, sir."
Captain Merced nodded slowly and tapped something into his terminal. "Toward the end of your report, you say the Mengharans, having evolved beyond the need for physical bodies, were simply waiting for someone to talk to. Could it be that simple?"
"The Mengharan I spoke to said they speak every thousand years, but there's never anyone to listen. They're lonely, sir. They're so far ahead of us " I searched quickly for an appropriate analogy. "It's as if we decided to wait for ants to develop language skills, rather than go out exploring. That's about what we are to the Mengharans."
The Captain sighed deeply. "That's a rather sobering analogy, Tamara."
"I know, sir. Think of it this way: If that's where the Mengharans ended up after billions of years of evolution, where will we be after billions of years of evolution?"
Captain Merced sighed again and shook his head. "Now you're getting metaphysical. Go pack a bag. I'm sending you home with your report."
My heart sank. The last thing I wanted was to be locked in a room with bureaucrats who've never been farther away from Earth than Mars. "Oh, thrilling. I'd better say good-bye to everyone. I may never see them again."
"No, you'll be back. I've sent a message pod with your report, my preliminary report and a note to Command that I want you back when they're done."
I relaxed a bit, though I still wasn't thrilled by the prospect. "Well, thank you, Captain. Think you'll be able to survive without me?"
"I'm sure we'll be able to stagger along without you."
With a weak smile, I stood and left the office, feeling like I was being thrown to the wolves.
I returned to Foxfire nearly six months later, none the worse for ware, but with a new understanding to just how stupid our commanders are.
For six months, I sat in a conference room, staring at a group of people I'd never heard of before. I was willing to bet most of them were with Intelligence and Military Science. They kept asking me to assess the Mengharan's military potential, and didn't believe me when I told them the Mengharans were a race of pacifists.
How do you explain to mere mortals that God doesn't care how big your guns are?
Despite it all, it was still good to be home again. I have no family, but I had left a lot of friends behind. So I spent what little free time I had getting back in touch with them. I also realized just how tired I was, how much I needed some time off.
They finally got tired of asking me the same question over and over again. After ordering me to write one final report about my encounter with the Mengharans, they packed me off to Foxfire. I was ordered to not discuss the encounter with anyone outside the crew. (How I was supposed to discuss it with anyone outside the crew was a question they didn't answer.)
Maybe they were just afraid that I'd write it down.
Which, of course, I did.
Well, someone has to make sure the Mengharans aren't forgotten.
Now, all I have to do is keep the memory alive for the next thousand years. Maybe by then, humanity will be better equipped to understand the message.
Maybe.
Michael P. Dunn was born in New York, and currently lives in Florida. He discovered science fiction at an early age, growing up on Lost In Space, Captain Scarlet and The Thunderbirds. He always had an active imagination, and started writing the day after he saw Star Wars. He divides my time between working full time and writing. He lives alone, except for his cat, Sunspot. Writing is probably the only thing that keeps him sane. He can be reached at m_dunn72@hotmail.com.
© Michael P. Dunn
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