Allan Ashinoff - The Vostok Revelation

“How credible is this information?”

“Quite,” Representative Sanderson chimed in. “As secretive as the Russians were they were forced to call on the Americans to recuse their people. Unfortunately, after waiting two days to enlist American aid and an additional two days for a storm to subside before a rescue could be attempted the entire crew of Lake Vostok station had died from exposure. The American rescue team recovered the bodies and absorbed what intel they could about the work being done at the station. The bulk of our information comes from the National Security Agency databases we’ve incorporated.”

“What about the transmission? Was anyone able to determine what the transmission was all about?”

“Yes,” Lansing said, pleased to take center stage. “The NSA captured the broadcast as it happened with one of its spy satellites. They analyzed the data to discover that it was an encrypted Sanskrit dialect, a philosophical and scholarly language from the Indian cultural zone that has remarkably little historical context. The NSA spent years trying to figure out why the Russians would encrypt and broadcast in Sanskrit. When no conceivable reason was found they archived all the information in their data-banks and waited for its relevance to present itself. Of course, this was all before the Federation of Earth was formed and national sovereignty gave way to global responsibility.”

“So the Americans never knew that the satellite broadcast into space was directed toward anything?”

Doctor Thornton spoke up, “Madam Director, even with our technology today, were it not for the broadcasts being sent to Antarctica we would never have been able to find those objects floating between Uranus and Neptune. Whoever or whatever put those things out there is using materials or technology that appears to be more sophisticated than ours.”

“What do we know about this broadcast? What is it saying?”

“The broadcast repeats every five hours, it lasts only six minutes, and is repeating the same message each time. Based on the NSA’s Rosetta stone, it appears to be a recipe for something called a kepha flower. The information appears to be a type of blueprint detailing how to manufacture whatever a kepha flower is.”

Director Serrano, a sense of foreboding welling up inside, “What is a kepha flower?”

“There is no known flower in all of botany,” Lansing offered.

“Are we sure that the translation is accurate?”

“According to the NSA’s information it is an accurate translation. The message they received in 2014 is identical to the message we’re receiving now.”

Director Serrano’s stomach knotted, “Are we able to use this recipe to create this flower under controlled conditions?”

“No. Our 3D printing capability is mostly limited to inanimate objects with few biological exceptions. And there are elements of that blueprint that we do not recognize as biological.”

“Not biological? A kepha flower is a machine?”

“Partly, or at least that’s what we can deduce from our understanding of the data we’ve captured.”

Director Serrano turned from to her window and started out across the Atlantic. Was this an extraterrestrial attempt to make contact? If so, why were they beneath the Antarctic ice for millions of years? What were they doing in all that time? Are they friendly? If they are hostile can our navy be enough of a deterrent to prevent bloodshed?

After several moments of contemplation the Director turned to face the delegation, “Thank you for bringing me this information. Based on everything I have heard, we are in dire need of accurate intelligence. First, we need to find out exactly what the objects between Uranus and Neptune are. The CSI will allocate resources from the Main Belt and send a probe to gather information. Second, we need to find out what’s been hiding beneath Antarctica for the last twenty million years. Third, once we achieve the first two objectives we must find a way to establish contact with whatever has been sending and receiving those signals. If this is Humankind’s first contact with another life form I’d prefer our initial meeting to be a peaceful one that it does not appear threatening. I’d like answers to these questions as soon as possible.”

“Mister Sanderson, I have a meeting to attend in fifteen minutes. If you’d like to present your information on the North American rebel factions, you are welcome to do so over dinner.”

October 2239, Communication Station 108, Lake Vostok Antarctica

> Incoming Signal <

> RECEIVING AUTHENTICATION… Valid. Identity Confirmed. <

> RECEIVING SECOND ARYA UTHENTICATION… Valid. Confirmed. <

> Determining Signal Strength… Acceptable. <

> Preparing Data channel… Complete <

> Receiving Data Manifest… Complete <

> Establishing direct channel to The Maker… Compete <

> The Maker: ONLINE <

> RECEIVING CONTAINER: one of twenty-four… Complete <

> ENVIRONMENTAL VARIABLE… Volatile <

> CONSTRUCT LOCATER SCOUT… Begin <

October 2239, Utopia City. Mid-Atlantic Ridge. 500 kilometers Southeast of Antigua.

“Director Serrano, I’m sorry to disturb you. You left instruction to be notified of any activity on the Antarctic Continent.”

“Thank you, Kaori,” Josefa replied groggily, her body comfortably relaxed and her mind still under the lingering effects of her third glass of wine. It was four-thirty in the morning. Josefa slipped into her turquoise floral robe, took the cocktail napkin flower that Representative Sanderson had made for her over dinner and left on her nightstand, and walked to the secure terminal in her study.

Authenticated, she began to study the data populating her screen. Another signal had reached Antarctica. Unlike the prior signals this one had lasted far longer than three minutes. “Kaori, bring coffee.”

October 2239, Communication Station 108, Lake Vostok Antarctica

The first of the Locater Scouts entered the control room three hours after the signal ceased. As defined by its programming, the 2.5 meter, flat-gray humanoid mass, stood beside the Sentinel as it absorbed the all the information the station had on gathered the world above.

Transfer complete.

The upper extensions of the Locater Scout morphed into long-flat flippers while the end of the lower extension flattened into triangular fins. Once the ceiling panel opened to its maximum capacity the Locater Scout exited station 108. Using the cable as its guide, upon reaching ceiling of massive ice pocket, without losing any of its momentum, the Locater Scout slammed into the ice and furiously began burrowing toward the surface.

October 2339, Utopia City. Mid-Atlantic Ridge. 50 kilometers Southeast of Dominica.

Director Serrano looked on in disbelief as a gray mass erupted from the snow-covered ruins of the Lake Vostok drill house. The view from the satellite orbiting 1200 kilometers above the Earth enabled a clear but undefined image of the object. Anxious seconds passed before the satellites position shifted enough to capture the gray objects shadow: a bipedal, human-like form.

“Enlarge and enhance some images of that thing,” the Director’s calmly instructed the technicians.

Moments later several images of the entity appeared on her display. Each image, regardless of perspective, presented a dark human-like object. The vacant blackness of the object stood in stark contrast to its white surroundings and even the sky itself. Whatever it was the most advanced digital imaging and sensory technology on Earth could not discern or even estimate a single defining detail aside from where it ended and the world began.