Allan Ashinoff - The Vostok Revelation

“It’s moving,” one of the technicians called out, immediately drawing Director Serrano’s attention from her display.

The entity, still standing amongst the ruins, stretched out its upper appendages. Suddenly, dark two segments pinched free of each arm, reducing each length by twenty-five percent. The dis-joined objects, hovering in place as the remains of the arms lowered to the entities sides, divided. As the arms melded with the trunk the four orbs shot off into the sky in different directions.

Silence took and held the command center for several seconds.

“Make sure we track those things. I want to know where they are at all times,” there was a slight degree of nervousness in the Directors voice. “How quickly can we get eyes on that thing?”

“The nearest scientific assets we have are in Sao Jose dos Compos, Brazil.” General Thomson instantly replied, “There is a fleet of ten virtual observation drones at a travel agency in Punta Arenas, Chile.”

“Have the travel agency send us the drone specifications and frequency for all ten of their headsets. We may be able to use our satellite array follow and study the objects from here,” Director Serrano commanded. She then turned to Alice Goncalves, Brazil’s Minister of Science and Technology, “Dispatch a scientific team from Sao Jos dos Compos. I want to be notified five minutes before they set eyes on the entity. Have them gather as much information as possible. I do not want anyone to engage it. I want clear images.”

Director Serrano next faced the second holographic screen rising from her desk, “Captain Shumer, adjust course to Bouvet Island. Let me know when we are within 20 kilometers of the island.”

“Yes, Director.”

“General Naidoo, dispatch security resources from Maputo to Bouvet island. At this point we have no way of knowing the intentions of this entity, it’s better not to take chances.”

“Our forces will be in place well before your arrival, Director Serrano. Utopia City will be protected.”

“Thank you, General Naidoo.”

Director Serrano looked across the four holographic displays rising from her desk, “Ladies and Gentlemen, at present we are at an extreme disadvantage. We are in need of reliable information before any attempt is made to make contact. I want the best scientific, tactical and linguistic minds in this region trained on this entity 24/7. Before Utopia arrives in theater I want detailed images, I want ideas on how we can communicate with it, and I want some reasonable notion of what its purpose is and why it waited so long beneath us to make contact.”

Locater Scout. Internal Communication, Lake Vostok Antarctica

Bursting through the final layers of frozen soil and ice and then several layers of plywood the entity finally reached the surface. In the center of the smoldering wreckage, the dark mass began to revert to its original form as pockets of life began to register in its consciousness.

> Surface Attained <

> OBJECTIVE: Locate Bindu <

> Deploy Seekers <

The outermost thirty centimeters of the Locater Scout’s upper appendages pinched from its host, separated into two identical halves and hovered in the air. Each half then divided in two gray globules which smoothed into perfect spheres. The four Seekers, still hovering in the air, bolted into the sky in different directions.

Having achieved its initial exploratory stage the Locater Scout melded its extremities back into its trunk. While it waited for its Seekers to begin transmitting their findings the Locater Scout moved its second stage, amassing atmospheric data.

The Seekers entered Vasundhara’s orbit. Each moving in their own direction, they immediately began scanning and topographically mapping the unfamiliar post-anatarnhasian landscape while they searched for the dozen bindu once placed in fortified locations throughout the world.

October 2239, Utopia City. Mid-Atlantic Ridge. 400 kilometers East of Trinidad.

Despite enormous trepidation, Director Serrano sat in her office and went about her scheduled meetings. While she looked attentively and nodded knowingly to each diplomat, lawmaker, and cartel representative that came to her with their requests, grievances, and suggestions, she could hardly keep her mind from dwelling on the teams she deployed to gather intelligence on the alien.

First contact had been all but anticipated by the Federation for more than a century. Generations of astronomers, estimating that there were no less than 100 billion galaxies in the known universe, empirically, using Bayesian statistics, concluded that there were likely to be fifty quadrillion habitable planets in the universe that could potentially support some form of life. The Federation’s Astroscience Ministry took the official position that extraterrestrial life did exist.

Over the centuries arrays of satellites had been deployed around Earth and in near space; some listened for radio signals, some formed a communication network to Federation assets, and others existed to warn of, or to attempt to redirect or destroy any asteroid that presented a threat to Earth. No one, in spite of the information recently revealed, was prepared for the possibility that first contact would come from an alien life-form already present on Earth.

A litany of questions silently nagged the Director while a procession of constituents entered her office with their business. How long had the aliens been dormant on Earth? Why did they hide? What are their intentions?

For the first time in her administration Director Serrano considered the debility of the Federation’s Peacekeeper Contingent — roughly 150,000 volunteers trained in non-lethal crowd control, personnel security and asset protection. The absence of fear of another human being, the ‘us’ versus ‘them’ mentality, the core concept necessitating arms and armies, rendered arms and armies obsolete under the Federation banner.

“Director Serrano,” a female voice interrupted from a small window on her display, “you asked to be informed of any activity on the sub-continent.”

Internally relieved, Director Serrano stood from her chair, “Mister Sanchez, I apologize but I’m going to have to interrupt this meeting. An urgent matter has been brought to my attention that needs to be addressed.” She tapped the virtual console on her desk, “Stanley, I need you to complete this meeting with Mister Sanchez, the representative from the Central American dairy cartel. Mister Sanchez, my assistant Stanley Gibbons will finish this meeting. I do apologize.”

Hadfield Mining Station, Outer Main Belt. November 2339.

The last of the four re-purposed mineral probes moved to within 500,000 kilometers of the objects lingering between Uranus and Neptune. Pleased with the rapidity of his team’s improvised solution, Ben Carson, Technical Supervisor of Hadfield Mining Station, verified the signal integrity and strength between the three fixed nodes in the proposed relay. In less than thirty minutes Probe One would fall into position approximately 100,000 kilometers from the objects, completing the communication relay.

Using their limited resources and mimicking the Federation’s Deep Space Communication Network, the Hadfield solution placed one probe every 250,000 kilometers across the last million kilometers leading up to the objects. Probe One was provisioned with more power and as many communication and sensory devices as Hadfield could craft or scavenge. It would scrutinize the objects from a safe distance, perhaps even attempt to establish contact, and then transmit the opening salvo in what was hoped to be a slow but efficient data stream back to Hadfield. Hadfield would then amplify and retransmit the consolidated and compressed data to the Deep Space Relay Network between Earth and Mars which would, due to the two planets current alignment, deliver it to Ottawa in approximately twelve minutes time.