Astrophysicist Leo B. Abram sat at his desk in the MIT Science and Engineering building, contemplating the call he’d received. He was thirty-five, on the young side for a tenured professor, but considered a genius by many in his community. The call from NASA’s imaging center requested his presence in California. The Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter had photographed an extraterrestrial spacecraft on the surface of Mars.
An afternoon flight took him to meet Admiral Bleeker of AOTSMG, the Anomalous Objects and Techno Signatures Management Group. Pictures from the MRO showed a light-sail craft partially covered in Martian dust. Admiral Bleeker and Abram examined the projected image in a conference room. The silvery kite-like square had thin struts radiating from a tiny central compartment.
“It’s twelve by twelve meters and lying flat,” Bleeker said. “A small payload compartment is in the middle. The sail material appears to be metallic. It could have been there for a month or centuries. Dust may have kept it hidden. We’ll know more when Ingenuity reaches it.”
There’d been minimal introductions upon Abram’s arrival. He’d signed a non-disclosure form and followed Bleeker into the dim room.
“It looks like IKAROS,” Abram remarked.
But Abram knew IKAROS, the Earth’s only light-sail craft, was launched in 2010 but was heading out of the solar system and nowhere near Mars.
“It’s not one of ours, professor. Your expertise with light-sail technology is one reason we called you in, but your hypothesis on extraterrestrial technology in our solar system is the main one. I’m afraid this story has many layers. We hope you can help.”
“This is outstanding. I want to see all the images and data. It’s a shame I’m stuck on Earth. Examining it firsthand would be ideal.”
Bleeker took a breath. “As I’ve said, there’s more to the story. What you’re seeing isn’t the only one we’ve found.”
“What? On Mars? How long ago…”
“Not on Mars. On the Moon. The Lunar Recon Orbiter spotted another over a year ago. Our advanced Artemis team recovered it.”
Abram blinked. The Artemis Moon Base had just been funded.
“There’s been no news of this!”
“No, professor, and until we know what we are dealing with, there won’t be.”
“But this is first contact! You can’t keep this secret. It is groundbreaking.”
“And that’s why we’re talking to you. Your belief that extraterrestrial technology may have entered our solar system is rare. I’ve read your books. Few scientists have considered such an event and contemplated humankind’s reaction.
“Then you must know how I feel about your secrecy. It is deplorable.”
The Admiral advanced the projector to a close-up of the craft. The peach-colored lighting of Mars was replaced by stark lunar lighting. The lunar light-sail craft filled the frame, and details of the sleek central compartment showed no signs of traditional bolts, screw heads, or rivets.
“You proposed that inexpensive light-sail craft could be boosted to near light speed with lasers and sent by the hundreds or thousands to explore nearby systems. Well, this device is 200 kilograms. Its material strength goes beyond anything we can make.”
Forgetting his outburst, Abram said, “This is fantastic news. I need to see it.”
“Before that, you need to hear everything.”
Abram studied Bleeker. The Admiral had the rugged features of an experienced leader and the intelligent eyes of a philosopher.
“Please don’t spoon-feed me. What more is there?”
“How much do you know about popular UFO stories?”
It wasn’t what Abram expected. “Not much. Flying saucers and little green men? Science fiction is outside my area of interest.”
“In 1947, we collected material from a site northeast of Roswell, New Mexico. Over the years, the story has been embellished with exaggerations and pure fantasy.”
“Wasn’t the official story about a downed weather balloon?”
“The material recovered was described as sections of foil radar reflectors hauled aloft by a balloon.”
“Why do I feel there’s a ‘but’ coming.”
“The key to that story is that light-sail technology was merely conjecture in 1947.”
It didn’t take Abram more than a breath to connect the dots.
“An alien light-sail craft was found at Roswell?”
“We know that now. Major Marcel, the intelligence officer who retrieved the debris, knew about our radar reflectors. He knew what he’d found wasn’t a radar reflector.”
“But this is wonderful! You can explain your Mars discovery and resolve the Roswell mystery.”
Admiral held his hand up as if to quell Abram’s excitement. “Unfortunately, the story isn’t quite over. We removed from the lunar craft a tiny payload that we assumed provided navigational guidance and the ability to transmit data back to its creators. It seemed inactive until it accidentally came in contact with a smear of yogurt from a technician’s lunch.”
“Were no isolation procedures followed?”
“The accident was actually fortunate. The bacteria in the yogurt reacted.”
“Reacted?”
“Our neurobiologists think it’s a form of reverse cross-modality sensory transfer. The bacteria apparently took direction from the device and formed orderly designs.”
“By merely touching the device?”
“We’ve since tested it on dust mites. They arranged themselves into patterns. We have no idea what it means.”
“We must study this at the highest level and under strict quarantine!”
“Trust me, professor. The payload has been triply isolated.”
“God, what if a person had touched it?”
The Admiral sucked in a lungful of air, slowly letting it out before saying, “We can’t be sure that didn’t happen. It’s why we’ve asked you in. The wreckage stored from Roswell did not contain a payload similar to the lunar craft. We know the ranch worker who initially found it didn’t report the wreckage for two weeks after discovering it. During that time, the wreckage lay open to any locals who heard about it. Several children visited the site. It’s been over three-quarters of a century, but we are attempting to track them all down.”
“We may have an extraterrestrial messenger among us?”
“You now know why you’re here. How do we tell the world that?”
As an assistant organizer of Minnesota Speculative Fiction for the past fifteen years, Terry has led critique workshops, participated in readings, and conducted writing presentations. His latest non-fiction project is a book based on the stories told by little library book exchange keepers. Photography and making weather vanes are his two other passions.
If you enjoyed this story, be sure to check out his story, “Muse Bovine,” which was featured in SHOWCASE several ages ago. You might also want to read this longer profile of him, which we published in the run-up to the release of STUPEFYING STORIES 23, which includes his story, “The Secret of Erin Stewart.”
Taking a closer look at STUPEFYING STORIES 23 is always a good idea, too.
Featuring:
• The Unicorn’s Companion, By Jamie Lackey
• The Secret of Erin Stewart, By Terry Faust
• Outrider, By Helen French
• The Last Feast of Silas the Wizard, By Karl Dandenell
• The Bird and Baby, By Allison Thai
• The Worm’s Eye, By Tom Jolly
• Magic with the Bones, By Beth Hudson
• Eddie’s Upgrade, By Kevin Stadt
• The Dead Barn, By Amy Caylor
• They Call Me Charon, By Gary Pattinson
• Brimstone and Brine, By Beth Powers
3 comments:
Great story! (Though I was expecting HIM to have been one of the kids affected by the "little black box" -- whether HE was one of the kids; or it was his grandmother who discovered it...STILL, it was a good ending!
Guy Stewart
Cool story, Terry!
Same. Fun read.
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