nebraska

I Mission

         "You've got to be kidding me! Is there no one else you can send in there?"

         "It's your rotation, Johnson. Besides, who else can we send? You’re the only one who gets out with minimal loss. We've had to take Stephens out of the rotation completely after his last sojourn into the Morrovian sector."

         Nothing, and I do mean nothing, ever comes to good when in the Morrovian sector. I've been flying reconnaissance, salvage and rescue missions for the Bureau for eighteen years. Every time I've entered the Morrovian sector, I have either discovered something bad or something bad has happened to me.

         Stephens and his crew took the last mission in. Somehow, he got a distress signal out. The Director sortied the Bureaus entire fleet to get them out. It was too late to save his crew and ship, but they brought Stephens back. They won't let him fly anymore and I don't blame them. I'm not sure what happened to him, he has spoken to no one about it. He's lost his edge though, and he is always looking over his shoulder. They even say he wakes every night screaming to get out of there.

         I looked the Director square in the eyes, "My crew will mutiny, Jim. We do more than our share of missions within that hellhole sector and you know it! Sure we come out fairly good. Sooner or later our number will be up, and the way things have been going, the crew figures we are due."

         "Now calm down, Johnson. You haven't heard any of the details on this one yet. It doesn't sound all that bad."

         "That's what you always say, Jim!" I was fuming, walking back and forth, my crew and I had found our way into the Morrovian sector on twelve of the last thirteen missions. "This is more than the bad luck of a miserable rotation. I know it, you know it and unfortunately, my crew knows it. Now, level with me, Jim." I returned to looking him in the eye. I was hoping that would in some way intimidate him. Maybe I could pull an easy rotation for my crew.

         There is no scientific explanation for the outrageously high incidence of catastrophic loss and calamity within the Morrovian sector, which is a particular volume of space bordered by some of the most desirable and profitable worlds in this area of the galaxy. Yet, cross that imaginary border into the Morrovian sector and fortune becomes disaster, with a capital D.

         The Director removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He looked up at me, "Have a seat, Johnson." I was not ready to back down. I watched him walk around his desk, pull his own chair out. He gestured for me to do the same, "Please." I could hear within the silence, my fate. We would not be pulling another rotation. I sat sown and stared at the floor. We were going in.

         "Look, Johnson," the Director started. Then silenced as he rubbed his unshaven face. "It's not that I have any say in this either. This whole mess should not be handled by our division as it is. To me, the whole sector belongs to the Navy. That way when something goes wrong they can blast it out of space!"

         I believe I heard him express some frustration, but the silence came back. A silence that attracted my attention from the dire responses my crew were going to give me to an interest in what was now going on within the Director's mind. I pulled my gaze from the floor and looked at him. It was obvious the man was tired, not just from a lack of rest, weary from some long drawn out altercation. No, it was more than that. He looked beaten.

         "Kris, it's like this," he started. From that moment on I knew things were bad. In the eighteen years I had come to this office, I had never been called by anything but my family name. The Director was looking at me now. His eyes were pleading. "It is all out of my hands Kris. It's all about cost cutting and loss containment. The Navy won't go in any more. No one goes in any more, except you and your crew."

         "Okay, Jim, you have my attention. What is it you are trying to tell me?"

         "The Morrovian sector of the Bureau is being disbanded. The sector itself will be marked off by buoys, which will ward off entry. I am being re-assigned with a grade cut. My personnel are to be distributed among other sectors."

         I felt the anxiety build within. This was the crux of the matter. Oh sure, a grade cut will hurt the director, financially and socially. Yet, any duty station has got to be better than this hell and no matter what, the Bureau has always taken care of its own. Just what was bothering him? "Will you tell me what is going on, Jim?"

         "Let me just get it out Kris. You can get the rest out of me afterward. Everyone has been re-assigned Kris. Everyone, that is, except you and your crew." I started to balk, but the Director raised his hand to silence me. "And I did say the Navy won't go in, but they will be patrolling the borders. Officially, their assignment is to offer you and your crew support." Then the Director's face grimaced, "Unofficially, they are patrolling the borders to keep you in and on task."

         I was dumbfounded, to say the least. This sort of thing just doesn't happen. Well, it doesn't happen anymore, not since the formation of the Galactic League of Planets formed several hundred years ago. Jim could see it in my eyes and on my face.

         "It's called martial law, Kris. Only the military is keeping out of the way, it seems their equipment and manpower are too valuable to risk assignment within the Morrovian Sector. By decree of eminent domain your ship and crew, including you, have been conscripted into the Navy." The Director shuffled through some of the paper on his desk until he found what he was looking for. "You fare quite well, you've been given a commission as Captain. It looks like most, if not all, of the crew will actually be making more money now than with the Bureau."

         "What about our independence, Jim, and freedom to move about as we please? I am no military man, and certainly the crew is not accustomed to a military command. How can they do this? Is there no other course of action for the legislature?" The Director did not look pleased. Yes, he is being re-assigned at a pay and grade cut, but he wasn't forced into military service! Still, I thought I could sense a bit of empathy from him about the ordeal. Perhaps, this sense is what helped me calm down enough to continue the talks. After all, it wasn't the Director's doing this time. I needed to accept the terms as they were dished out. I would find a way out, later. I hope.

         "Well, Jim, what is so important that the League of Planets, declares marshal law, commandeers ships and crews and pretty much sets back all the progress made half of a millennia?"

         The Director looked very intently at me, there was even a glint of excitement in his voice, now that I was no longer resisting. “They believe they have discovered a green planet, Kris."

         That certainly got my attention. Green planets were a rare commodity in the galaxy. A green planet not only can be made to sustain life, it already has an atmosphere that may already support life. This could be a real gem. The first people to survey such a world, throughout galactic history, have never had to worry about their financial or grade status again. Their future was made easy. Then, I came back to my own current predicament. "There's a catch to it, isn't there, Jim?"

         "Yes, Kris. That is why all of these extreme events are happening. It's in there, in the Morrovian Sector." I'm sure the look of my face had a lot to do with why he raised his hand, so I held my peace while he continued. "Kris, do you know why with all the missions into the sector, no one has come across a green planet at any level?"

{indent)"Anyone who has done much exploration knows how rare it is to find a suitable world, let alone a green world. I've been in sixty times over the years and haven't come across anything but the harshest of environment. I could look for a thousand years and I should not be surprised to not find a green planet. Life is a scarcity in the galaxy, Jim."

         "Of course, you are right. However, some textbook astronomer on Kelden (a planet just outside the borders of the Morrovian Sector), who has never seen a spaceship let alone explore space has been wondering why for most of his life." The Director spent some time digging through the paper on his desk, "I've got the whole study here for you, Kris. You'll need to read it anyway."

         "The study can wait Jim. Just tell me the short of it."

         "The man's name is Newkirk. He's studied all the records of exploration into the Morrovian sector including the missions of rescue and anomaly studies by this bureau." The director poured himself some water and made a motion to offer me some. I shook me head no. "Applying all this data, with his own observations of the sector, and given the vast volume of space we are dealing with, Newkirk believed it was of a very low probability that we have not discovered any degree of green planet."

         "There's a startling revelation, Jim." The sarcasm was thick with that remark, but I could not help it.

         To those of us who have spent our lives in space
and exploration this study and its results seemed foolhardy at best and definitely a waste of the resources and appropriations used for this astronomers folly.

         Here's some news, space is empty. When you do stumble across something stable enough to support you, and small enough not to crush you, it is most likely a dusty and lifeless rock. And if we do find something useful about it, we build our little enclosed sterile environments and start tunneling.

         Then there are the thousands of atmospheres, most of them deadly or corrosive or storm ridden or all of the above. A very small handful of those are suitable for terra forming, converting to an environment suitable for humans. Though it is at a cost extremely larger than the sealed enclaves on the dead worlds, it is much better for the human psyche. In most cases these must be artificially maintained always, but with the more natural feel people come to fill the planet and prosper.

         It is the tiniest percentage of these that are planets labeled pre-green planets. One's whose development places them on the track to produce a carbon/oxygen based life forms.

         Then, the most unlikely incredibly small portion of those, that actually have developed life at some stage are green planets. These have some form of ecosystem and usually require minimum alteration to make them suitable for humans and thus a most valuable resource.

         On the rarest of occasions, a planet has been discovered and a ship has landed on it, and its passengers walked outside the ships airlocks and breathed in the air of a new world.

         I snapped out of my ruminations and said, "I'd think he would be telling us the odds were very slim to none that there was a green planet within the sector Jim."

         "Well, when you read the study, you'll find, using mathematical probability only within the sectors volume of space that three green planets might be there. You'll also find that this is one of the most explored volumes of space in the galaxy due to the anomalous nature of the sector.

         "Anyway, Newkirk received funding for reconnaissance into the sector. The people of Kelden are not strangers to the odd occurrences within the sector. They refused to send in a manned mission. They allowed the commissioning of ten unmanned probes into the sector. As you well know, that is not a drop in a bucket of what it may take. With the years of study of places men have been within the sector. Newkirk laid out ten courses that put the probes in places that men had not been and had a better than the average chance for something based on his astronomical observations."

         I looked up, "Still, Jim, the chance of discovering anything at all is very close to zero."

         "That was the response of the bureau when Newkirk first brought his study to us. It just wasn't worth the risk to send in a mission for such a low probability.

         "Then he sent his probes through and collected the data. He spent years analyzing the stuff. While summarizing the data from one of the probes, he came across a dozen common markers of a green planet. So, he sent his last probe through on an extended flyby mission.

         "Not only did he discover a green planet, but it had a satellite!"

         Again, I fought back as best I could the sarcasm. "Jim, finding a satellite around a planet, even a green planet is not a source of excitement in the least."

         The director looked at me with an air of self-satisfaction, perhaps this time he would reveal something. “You’re right, Kris. A satellite around a planet is fairly commonplace, even in the Morrovian sector. What would you say if I told you the satellite was artificial?"

         That did it. I couldn't think of any response. I was in shock, actually. "Well, could he be sure it was artificial? I mean how do you tell?" After all, how many worlds, moons, asteroids, and large lifeless rocks have men built upon until they looked completely artificial, barely resembling what they were before men forever changed them?

         "Kris, it was an extremely close flyby. We have a picture of the satellite and you're thinking way too large. This resembles most a communications relay satellite, I'm sure you've seen them. It has several large solar collectors, a dish array. Really, it is quite unmistakable, it can be nothing else but a crafted artifact." The Director let that sink in for a few moments before he went on.

         "It is also quite clear that this is a green planet. There is no question at all about the data.

         "When Newkirk came to us with this, the Bureau was astonished, to say the least. Especially with the half-millennia history we have in the sector. How could such a place develop a green planet, or support intelligent life when the entire sector seems to treat every intrusion we make into it with hostility, even malicious contempt?

         "Don't look at me like that Kris! You've been in there enough to understand how I can say these things. The Morrovian sector doesn't want us in there and does all it can to keep us out!"

         Of course, I've felt that, to my very core, on most every mission in I've done. The further into the sector I have been, the worse the feelings grew. "How far in is this green planet Jim?"

         "I get what your asking me, and your right. It is very near the center of the sector!"

         "Whatever is there, Jim, it doesn't want us to find it. It all makes sense now, the bulk of the sector is like a buffer zone, a no trespassing sign, warning people to stay out."

         "Kris, that is exactly the conclusion the Bureau came to. We were trying to sweep the whole discovery under the rug. I mean what is in there that can exert that kind of influence for stellar distances? We were relieved to label it a stay away zone and happily go about rescuing the few that stray into the outskirts of the system.

         "Newkirk wanted his discovery though. We couldn't let him have it, not with what we suspected, especially after his discovery confirmed what we feared. So, he went to the League of Planets. Once the politicians got the scent of a green planet it was over. We put up resistance to be sure. We solicited the best scientific minds to lobby against more discovery, but greed won out. Newkirk has his infamy, his discovery of a green planet.

         "We took our lobbying efforts to the Navy, all the hundreds of years of investigations and the results of our own studies. For a short while, we won the Admiralty over to our side, he decided to favor caution and more data collection."

         "Hold on Jim. How did you convince the Admiralty of the sinister nature of the sector? Let alone, that a central intelligence may be the cause. I mean, the Navy has been the longest continuous entity in the galaxy. It is, not only their experience, but their boastful folly that man is the only developed intelligence out there. For
the Navy has been so many places in the galaxy, that if other species existed the Navy would surely have encountered and conquered them by now!"

         "That's right Kris. Yet after a thorough review of all the data we provided. They decided on a plan of caution, despite all the boasting. Yet the politicians persistently pressured the Navy into some form of action. Since the Navy isn't ready to admit an alien intelligence into the galaxy yet, they assumed this was human in origin."

         "No one from the surrounding systems have settled within the sector." I threw this bit of common knowledge out but the Director was already ahead of that.

         "There are no records of explorations and settlement within the sector within the Galactic League of Planets archives or of any of the archives of the older kingdoms. Near as we can tell from the records that do mention this sector, it was always a source of calamity and intrigue and left alone.

         "We even found one record from the old Central Kingdom, which consisted of some one hundred systems, that warned all travelers of space to give wide berth to the sector of Morrove. Morrove was an interstellar explorer who first discovered the strange repulsive forces of the area and roughly described its boundaries. Morrove lived eight thousand years ago!"

(indent}Jim further reinforced what I suspected. The strange occurrences here predate the Bureau by thousands of years. This phenomenon may even predate the galactic history of men! It is no wonder that even the Navy exercises some caution in this area.

         "So while the politicians were busy maneuvering the Bureau out of this sector and building a base of support for martial law, the Navy released the coordinates of the system on the galactic data net looking for any information they could find."

         "And?" I inquired, my mind too entangled in the threads of possibilities about the sector to actively participate in the conversation.

         "When they put the coordinates out on the galactic net and then filtered all the data that is repetitive of the existing data on file. Only one additional source of information was found and it was very old indeed. Much of the data was in a format that predates the Galactic Communications and Storage Standards that were established twelve millennia ago when the first of the stellar kingdoms were attempting to unify and standardize communications to better aid commerce."

         "The Navy had to contact the source of the information in order to break the file encryptions and to translate the opened files from their original language into Galactic Common so they could be understood."

         This last bit of information caught me off guard. What world could be so backward as to maintain files in the unintelligible communicative forms of the antiquities? What world wanted any reminders of the chaotic and tumultuous colonization and expansion eras? Most worlds, no matter what their age wanted to forget that savage part of history, not try to stir up long forgotten resentments and injustices. "I'm getting tired, Jim. Tell me, what world would be so bold as to maintain itself in isolation enough as to offer information in such an archaic language and format? Who would want to wake up the collective nightmares of the galaxy with a handful of data?"

         "Who indeed, Kris, but Earth." Jim saw the question in my expression before I put it into words, for he was not talking about the soil of a world from which vegetation grows. "I do not mean dirt. I am talking about the oldest world, the original world. The planet where man first came from."

         "And this world's name is what?" I asked.

         "Earth."

II Earth

         "Earth?"I repeated. The Director had said the name in such a way that he expected me to recognize it. I searched my memory as far back as I could, but nothing revealed itself.

         "Yes, Earth." He was looking at me and I noticed his expression soured when it occured to him I might not know the significance of Earth. "Come, Kris, you do know what Earth is?"

         "I don't recall having come across it, Jim. Is it in the Morrovian Sector?"

         "Kris this is the first subject of any galactic history course. Surely you have had some education."

         "I have, Jim. My studies were more technical and theoretical with heavy doses of galactography and science. I had no time for history or political studies.
I simply don't recall Earth and I'm sure, if I asked any of my crew neither would they."

         The Director was, again, rubbing his face, obviously lost in thought, pondering how he might proceed with the conversation. "This lack of knowledge of Earth, do you think it widespread?"

         "As far as I know there are thousands of planets and many more smaller bodies that people have settled. Why should any have greater significance for me than any other? And if I recognize that, why should not everyone else?" I thought for a few moments and not satisfied with my offered reasoning I continued, "Look, Jim, I know the locations and significance of many worlds: where the galactic legislature resides, where some of the major economic centers are, the worlds where major discoveries have been made. I am much more familiar with this sector and the planets that border it, having spent most of my life here. But, even that knowledge is incomplete.

         "It's just not possible to know every world, especially one so far removed it maintains itself in a state of isolation and archaism." I felt a little more justified, I mean how could I know about a world that wants to remain hidden?

         Still, it was most apparent in the director's expression and tone that he was dissappointed with my ignorance. "Kris, I would accept that answer for virtually any world, except this one. But, perhaps you do not share my curiosity for our beginnings." I flashed a confused look at him.

         I certainly haven't had time for curiosities. I've not been stationed at some Bureau backwater station, where I passed the time idly counting minutes until I retire. No, I have spent the last eighteen years in this nightmare. Where, if I were not actively pitted at odds with some puzzle or even survival itself. I was swamped in the paperwork of reports and research. The only idle time I have known these years were spent on the way into the Sector in apprehension of what may come.

         I couldn't contain the contemptuous chuckle that emerged from my mouth as I was about to speak. "No, Jim, I have had no opportunity to share this curiosity you speak of. Hopefully, this information is contained within Newkirk's Study?" It was my way of suggesting this conversation was finished. I would get the rest of the details from the Study.

         The director seemed unperturbed by my tone, though and he wasn't ready to let the conversation end at this. "Only the factual information is included, Kris, as part of an informational addendum submitted by the Navy and summarized by Newkirk. Remember, Newkirk is a scientist and though he postulates several theories about the planet and the sector, it is all based along a successive path of evidentiary and scientific reasoning.

         "In fact, it is all quite logical."

         "It is a start though." I began my reply but the director's zealous drive to keep this conversation going forced him to interupt this second attempt to end the discussion.

         The director sat quietly for a moment. It was apparent we were going to continue this until the director was very sure he had communicated all he had to say. I leaned back in my chair and let him think about what he wanted to discuss. The realization, that this was very likely the last conversation we would have, tempered my impatience somewhat. I remembered many occasions where the director's additonal commentary to a mission briefing had helped make a more positive impact in the mission.

         There was no doubt in my mind about the qualifications of Jim as director here. He had spent nearly twenty years as a field man within the Morrovian sector, with a record as successful as any one could hope, considering the tasks. He has shared his experiences with me in many briefings such as this.

         I was grateful for the bit of time the director spent recollecting his thoughts. I found, in the few moments thinking along these lines, a renewed respect for the director and was ready to let him reveal to me his thoughts on the current situation in his own way. He raised his head and continued, "Kris, I think there is information about Earth, beyond that found in the study, that you should be aware of.

         "I have formulated my own theories about the Morrovian sector, as you know. In many ways our beliefs about the sector are similar, based on the years of our individual experiences within it. Additionally, if a incorporate my own knowledge of Earth, I can then begin to
formulate a set of circumstances that very closely resembles what we have in the Morrovian Sector."

         I was ready to take back all I had been thinking about the director before he made his last statement. "Jim, what can an unknown world such as Earth do to have such impact and yet remain unknown?"

         "Well, Kris. The fact of the matter is that the force, affect, whatever you want to call it is so subtle it remains hidden."

         "But, Jim, then the results, which you imply, the years and years of strange and bizarre occurences within the Morrovian system, are so far beyond the cause in magnitude, it becomes unbelievable."

         "That is what the Navy told me at first, too Kris. Yet, when I presented them with the whole history of Earth, of the Morrovian Sector and Newkirk's Study and of course the Navy's own addendum, they found the arguments for my theories very compelling." The director took a drink of water. "The Navy knows of Earth, they know of Earth very well, indeed. They have still classified records of events that happened thousands of years ago, of conflicts between Navy and Earth. The Admiral came back to me within several days after I had shared with him my theories. He is fully convinced of the nature of the source of the odd occurences within the Morrovian Sector."

         I looked up at the directer and asked, "Earth?" and he nodded his head in the affirmative. "But, Jim, how can that be? It just doesn't add up to me."

         "The Admiral didn't want me to tell you this, Kris. He was sure you would react this way based on your Bureau service files. I disagreed with him, pleading with the Navy to let me share this information with you. As you can see, the the Admiral and the Navy relented, and so here we are." I was about to unload with several thousand questions, the director raised his hand to silence me. "I know you have questions, Kris."