Michael thought upon the actual words of the ancient verse, trusting they held no truth. In light of the circumstances now facing humanity, he feared the words as originally scripted might foretell a future soon to come to pass.
Standing before the transparent image he contemplated the journey which had brought humans to the present time. After having spent thousands of years staring into the starlit heavens, while remaining bound to the surface of their planetary home, humans had now been traveling and exploring throughout the galaxy for hundreds of years.
The first to break free did so in fragile one-man capsules. Claustrophobic contraptions, dangerously frail; virtually the entire craft was nothing more than a thin-walled cylinder into which volatile liquid propellant was poured. 'Rockets' they were called, the same name as used by the ancient Chinese to describe devises shot into the sky with the sole purpose of exploding into marvelous colors in order to entertain an audience below.
Unfortunately, the earliest spacecraft to carry human cargo sometimes did as their venerable predecessors had done. Accidents took many lives while the technology improved with painful slowness. Eventually reusable multi-person shuttles were developed.Regrettably, they relied upon the same archaic engineering concepts as their predecessors. Launched into orbit on the backs of explosive containers, the first shuttles could only glide back to Earth with the occupants hoping the primitive flight control and navigation systems would allow them to do so safely. The slightest error in operation or defect in structure could, and did, send many blazing into eternity.
We journeyed farther, discovered more, increased our knowledge and, in doing so, we added to our own dissatisfaction. Our lives were without any real collective purpose and, both as a species and as individuals, we went through the motions, existing in futility and welcoming whatever death would eventually extinguish our frustrations. We could take from the universe what we wanted, unchallenged and unassisted, but the knowledge of this very fact was a malaise which began destroying us.
Michael sensed life's vanity from time to time, more so since the death of his wife. With effort he could deny what he felt, put it down and carry on. But it always returned. Partly from a nature he was born with and partly from his training, his thoughts could be disciplined to focus on immediate tasks and not wander toward questions that were probably unanswerable in any event.
Nights were the hardest. He had time to think, to contemplate, to become aware of something he could only describe as spiritual. He resisted such thoughts; spiritual awareness had caused so much harm to civilizations and now was only to be tolerated by individuals and governments, never promoted. A divine nature could never be empirically substantiated and therefore had to be denied, with belief in such things allowed to lapse over time. Humans were taught that the only truth to be found was what your senses could discern through scientific methodology. Only the physical was to be counted as real.
Still Michael wondered. He thought on things his society considered harmful. As with everything in his life, he had never feared to search deeper, especially into his own thoughts. Even into his non physical nature.
Motionless before the entrance decorated with the predatory bird guarding its home, his mind continued to wander. Becoming lost in thought was something that had been happening with increasing frequency with the passing of each day in his empty world.
Earth's moon, for so long serving as the focus of human aspirations, had never been colonized. A useless piece of dusty real estate few people ever visited, no serious activity having taken place on it since the late twenty-first century. It remained Earth's friendly companion, as it had been for time out of memory.
Mars was colonized and, until recent events argued for their removal, sustained over half a million inhabitants. Many had now evacuated, not out of necessity, but as a precaution. Fear of the unknown is a great motivator to flight even when assurances of safety are given. After the destruction of Mercury and Venus there were few in the solar system willing to take any chances.
Mercury had been uninhabited, while sufficient warning was given so that Venus' eighteen research scientists, the only people on that hostile world, could be removed without harm. The evacuees fled along with the billions from Earth to the deep space colonies.
Hundreds of planets, many little more than primitive mining stations, welcomed the new arrivals. The colonies wanted growth, needed fresh blood, even those that were long established with cities in the millions. Travel back to the home world often took months, in some cases years when coming from the farthest colonies, and new ideas and points of view would refresh stagnant 'other world' lives.
Some of the more adventurous chose to head out on voyages of discovery to areas of space not yet touched by humans, hoping to find adventure at the least, while betting against the odds to find personal fortune. The displaced traveled individually as well as in organized groups comprising thousands, searching for new worlds to call home. Most intended to return to Earth at some time in the future, but all who left were under no illusions about the certainty of doing so.
Unexpectedly, and without any hint of its possibility, the universe and humanity's place in it had irrevocably changed. There would no longer be any guarantees. No longer any certainty. We had been contacted. There was a race of beings other than ourselves. And they were coming to Earth. They were coming in unknown numbers and for an unknown purpose. They would stay for a brief but indefinite time. We had been promised that when they did leave Earth we would find everything exactly as it was before they came.
The initial contact was as unexpected as the reason for their coming was unexplained. Exploration, conquest, pillage, the historically traditional excuses humans used for attending upon other societies uninvited, were possibilities. However, if the Aliens were to be believed, then they weren't coming to explore and have our culture explained to them or to extend a hand of friendship. They told us to evacuate, they had no desire to meet with us. They were not coming for conquest; they said they were going to leave soon after their arrival. It wasn't to rape the planet of its resources; Earth would be left untouched by them, everything remaining as it was.
The platforms had long been neglected. Nothing 'out there' had ever been found which needed to be defended against. Nothing had ever been found period. No life, not even a microbe existed anywhere but on Earth. Nothing alive to be found that had not come from Earth in the first place.
In conjunction with refurbishing the purely defensive platforms, a deep space battle fleet was also readied. Ostensibly of a protective nature when first built over two hundred years ago, the fleet was at that time equipped with every offensive weapon we possessed. It moved out with the first explorers and colonists, providing a psychological security. We were hoping that nothing more than the knowledge of its availability would ever be required. Since nothing more had ever been required, complacency set in as the years passed and, along with the platforms, the fleet became a minor consideration, a financial burden barely maintained and never enhanced, its weaponry now minimal and ancient.
The smaller ships of Earth's near space fleet were placed on high alert after the 'voice' was first heard. This status was lowered only a few weeks later. However, after the 'voice' was heard a second time the highest alert was again ordered and both the near space and deep space fleets were refurbished, rearmed and expanded, using designs engineers had prepared years earlier and, until then, had been collecting dust.
Construction of the heavier battle class starships became a priority, with expertise conscripted from the private sector to meet the demand. When ready, these ships would join the deep space fleet that was being recalled to the home world. Major dislocations took place in the economy as all resources the military wanted were diverted for its use. A frightened population suffered through the change in their lifestyles without complaint. They had other matters to address with those who governed.
People wanted answers about the origin of the 'voice', the messages implicit threat, and what should be done. They demanded answers and kept on demanding them. Eventually people got on with their lives as best they could, but not as they had done the first time. The furor over not knowing did not abate and people were now too distracted by the very lack of knowing to live normal lives.
The messages from the 'voice' continued, increasing in frequency but not in duration. The longest message lasted for under twenty seconds. The interval between pronouncements followed no discernible pattern. Some were hours apart while others were separated by weeks. The only consistency was the method of delivery and the annoyingly gentle request for our departure.
The statements were never threatening in tone, nor were they demanding. We were simply told 'they' were coming and that Earth was not to be inhabited by humans at the time of their arrival. One person would be permitted to remain behind to oversee the planet's automated mechanisms, preventing degradation to the civilization humans had created. 'They' didn't want to harm us or any of the works we'd put our hands to. 'They' were coming and we were not to be here. That was all there was to it.
Apparently, the way in which we removed ourselves was up to us. The timing of our removal did not concern them as long as it was before they arrived. The date and time of their arrival was eventually provided. We were given a little over a year to prepare to leave. However, other than making a public show of trying to make contact with the Aliens, and preparing secret plans to evacuate, we did nothing to satisfy the Aliens' request or timetable. We undertook no construction of large passenger craft, nor did we actively encourage anyone to depart. The Aliens must have noticed our lack of activity in this regard. They also must have noticed the defensive preparations.
The 'voice' came to us almost eight months prior to the date it had set for our departure, saying simply, "Observe Mercury."
Immediately, every device capable of looking upon another planet was turned towards the sun's nearest neighbor. We saw nothing. Mercury remained as it had always appeared.
After a few days of monotonous sameness our focus shifted slightly and other possibilities regarding the instruction to "observe Mercury" were considered. We began to investigate what they might be. We looked to scholarly studies of the Roman messenger god for which the planet had been named. Everyone became immersed in finding out what they could about the mythical figure.
The son of Jupiter, Mercury would fly swiftly from place to place, often accompanied by a cockerel, the herald of a new day. The word 'mercurial', used to describe something erratic, volatile or unstable, was derived from the god's name. To the Romans he was a psycho-pomp, leading souls of the dead to the afterlife. Were the Aliens using ideas drawn from our own false beliefs to give us a concealed message? But if so, then why? And what could be the true intent?
Before even a day had passed from the presentation of the injunction to observe the tiny planet, there arose a religious cult based upon the worship of Mercury, with various subgroups competing over the observances needed to be followed in order to give proper homage to the newly revived god. The rival parties never had a chance to authoritatively determine how their god would be worshiped before the discussion became moot. Only seven days after having been told to observe Mercury, the planet vanished.
The disappearance of Mercury couldn't be explained. There was no cataclysmic natural event, no impact from a rogue asteroid, no weapon of unimaginable power used against it. The planet did not explode nor did it fall from orbit and go spinning off into the sun. Mercury simply dissolved. As billions on Earth watched their screens, images of the planet's destruction were fed to them by military craft sent to investigate the object of the Aliens most recent message.
Thin cracks were first noticed on the baked surface of the planet's sunward facing side. The thousands of initial fissures spread, eventually becoming millions of small, interconnected lines, from which hundreds of millions more sprang. Mercury retained its spherical shape as the cracks increased in number and encompassed the entire planet over a period of several hours. Then without warning the cracks began to widen, the lines slowly drawing away from each other as Mercury peacefully floated apart.
Appearing at first that Mercury was growing larger, expanding, and then, depending on the angle from which it was viewed, the darkness of space and the fire of the sun began to be seen through the widening lines as the smooth orb that was Mercury became a disjointed puzzle.
The expansion ceased as the seemingly infinite number of small pieces beginning to flatten along a line matching what had once been Mercury's orbit around the sun. Lacking the necessary mass to maintain the orbit, the pieces began to fall in towards the sun as though being pulled down to the blazing surface by a giant hand. Mercury's demise was complete as the last tiny fragment disappeared and, for the first time since creation, Earth was no longer the third planet from the sun.
Even before the last remnant of Mercury vaporized, humanity flung itself into a battle of opinions over what was happening, and what might happen next. All of it was no more than useless noise. Research ships and unmanned probes scoured the emptiness as near to the sun as safety permitted, all to no avail. No explanation could be found for what had occurred. The event had unfolded without any discernible outside influence or evidence of a natural occurrence.
Even so, perhaps it was a natural phenomenon people rationalized, a previously undetected weakness in Mercury's geology, a weakness our technology couldn't detect but one that a more advanced Alien culture had discovered. Knowing Mercury was about to come apart, the Aliens were trying to make us believe it had been a deliberate act on their part. An act designed to instill in humanity a fear of a species that could destroy planets if opposed; a fear that would cow us into doing their as yet unknown bidding.
Other than a voice from nowhere and what might have possibly been a natural event they claimed as their own, there had been no actual demonstration of their superiority; certainly nothing compelling enough to make us abandon our home world. Being filled with uncertainty, unable to achieve a consensus, as a whole we hesitated.
In increasing numbers, people continued to depart Earth of their own accord, but still no plans for an organized mass exodus were announced.
It was soon obvious that secretive activity at the level needed to transport billions of people could not be maintained. Clandestine operations would have to be abandoned if the timetable set by the Aliens was to be met.
After a few months they were abandoned and preparations began to be made openly. Even so, many people refused to accept the fact that we might actually have to leave. We acted as though we believed leaving was inevitable, while holding on to an inner faith something would change allowing us to abandon our effort rather than our planet.
There were those inside and outside the governing counsels who advocated staying and fighting. Others were not fully convinced there even were any Aliens. It was all an elaborate hoax; there was no hard evidence showing the voice they heard, or the destruction of Mercury, was orchestrated by intelligent beings. Although the events establishing the existence of aliens could not be denied, they were susceptible to multiple explanations, even if most such explanations were fanciful at best, or completely inexplicable. Whether or not the 'voice' was ever to be fathomed rationally, one did not flee from one's home world just because one was told to do so. They remained unconvinced of the need to leave despite the voice's friendly demand, sometimes given three or four times a day. The messages weren't always the same, albeit they stayed consistent in their brevity and insistence that Earth be vacated.
Then the 'voice' went silent. For over three months nothing was heard. People relaxed, if only slightly, more each day that passed without hearing from the heavens. Ever so gradually the overriding sense of urgency attending the planning and preparation began to wane. As often happens when a threat appears to diminish, human nature responded with less activity. Defensive preparations suffered less than those associated with departure.
As the perceived danger decreased in peoples' minds, more were encouraged to exhibit a false bravado. Humanity's war-like nature and previous belief in their mastery of the universe began to be reasserted. Flight or fight continued to be argued, with the latter increasingly taking precedence. Then, ninety-five days after its last calling out to humanity, the 'voice' returned.
The message was one of chilling simplicity: "You are to leave. Observe Venus," said in the same kind and gentle tone as before.
It was the same communication given prior to Mercury's annihilation and no one doubted what was about to happen. The Venus research station was forsaken within the hour, the scientific staff scrambling into an emergency shuttle, launching themselves into orbit to meet a waiting military transport. The transport performed a quick, sub-light burn to reach an observation point halfway between Venus and Earth, providing all aboard with the closest view by any humans.
There was no waiting this time. No sooner was Venus abandoned than it began to change. The thick, acidic clouds covering the planet began to illumine, glowing with a faint brightness that increased in intensity by the hour. Within half a day, Venus took on the appearance of a miniature sun, shining as brightly but with no hint of solar activity. Then, without warning, its brightness suddenly intensified. If only for a fraction of a second, Venus's brilliance outshone its much larger parent. There was a flash that within the twinkling of an eye became darkness and Venus was gone.
Automated probes were hurriedly dispatched to the empty space. They returned with only a fine, black powder in their specimen trays. The powder, when tested, yielded no answers.
There was no need to pretend that Earth might not be abandoned now. The bluster of staying to fight disappeared as quickly and assuredly as the planet Venus. Like children who had just received the ultimate reprimand, we would finally do as we were told. But like children, though acquiescing to instructions, we nevertheless persisted in considering alternate ways to comply.
Consideration was given to not strictly adhering to the Aliens' demands. One person was allowed to remain to oversee the automated systems; why not leave others, hidden in remote locations, possibly to spy out the aliens' weaknesses, if any were to be found, and assist in resistance or attack, if either became necessary or feasible? If the Aliens did not leave as they promised, or if they failed to leave within a reasonable period of time, it might be of invaluable assistance to have secreted warriors in key locations. Automated booby traps, concealed containers holding plagues, destruction of infrastructure so as to leave nothing useful to the Aliens, were all considered along with many other ideas.
In such thinking there was an emptiness everyone was prepared to acknowledge. We knew nothing about the Aliens or their intentions; we only knew what we'd been told and what we had already witnessed. The risk of not following the instructions as given was too great and any benefit that might possibly be derived from defiance was too small. In the end the cradle of human civilization was to be left virtually unattended while we were called upon to have faith that unknown beings more intelligent and powerful than ourselves would also be more compassionate and egalitarian in their actions than we had ever managed to be when dealing with those we considered of lesser stature.
The detailed 'Exodus Study' underwent a change of name, becoming the 'Exodus Plan', as it was perfected in theory and began to be applied in reality. Spacecraft of all types continued to be refurbished and updated, prepared for a duty beyond the requirements of their original construction. All of the resources of an 'M' class planet were devoted to the assembly and alteration of space craft and the production of materials necessary to sustain human life during what, in most cases would be prolonged voyages.
There was no need to request that the colonies assist by sending their own ships. Even before the destruction of Venus the colonies were rushing aid to Earth. Taking circuitous routes, lest their planet of origin be discovered by the Aliens, they came with the sparsest of crews needed to operate them. Some arrived with only one human aboard and others with none, having been piloted by automated systems alone in order to leave more room for evacuees.
After Venus, spacecraft left the colonies and headed to the home world in unending waves. Within weeks, ships from the nearest colonies surrounded Earth in an almost impenetrable layer. In a super human effort of cooperation and coordination, these ships were provisioned and passengers embarked. They began departing with their human cargo just in time to make room for ships that began to arrive from the deep space colonies. Vessels from the colonies on the furthest regions of our inhabited space did not arrive until only days and even hours were left before everyone was to have departed. Everyone, that is, except Michael.
Once the last ships were loaded and began their trajectory away from Earth, the orbital weapons platforms commenced a grim watch. Now completely refitted and controlled by Gabe, they were required to ensure no humans returned home prior to the time they were permitted to do so. Gabe was to destroy any vessel of human origin daring to return too early. There would be no testing the Aliens' instructions. The possible repercussions were too grave to risk. The computer did not need Michael's authorization to act.
Recalling this final thought and the stark remembrance of his complete isolation, Michael was shaken from his reverie. He was once again standing in front of the entrance to the sub-orbital station's civilian launch area.
One step forward and the glass doors opened. Michael watched as the etched head of the eagle, defiantly bent over its nest offering resistance to any interloper, was neatly separated from its body. The corporate motto was also cut apart, the words "their" and "nests" being the point of severance.
The civilian flight preparation area was a place where a meal could be obtained, personal hygiene attended to, and other such matters thought of at the last minute before traveling dealt with. Michael found the available amenities to be excessive, considering that a sub-orbital flight to the other side of the planet took less than forty minutes. Surely, people could wait that long to satisfy their wants upon arriving at their destination. Then again, he was military and he hadn't operated within a civilian mind-set since childhood.
Michael quickly passed through the room.Anything he might need was available to him whenever and wherever he required it. Simply by instructing Gabe to do so, the computer would take all steps necessary to provide the inventory of Earth to him. Efficient, automated drones were always present to give anything asked for within minutes of a request, if not sooner.
The civilian sub-orbital shuttle he was now about to use was built for comfort and speed, unlike the heavy-lift military shuttles to which he was more accustomed. This particular one was off-white in color with the launch facility's eagle logo, absent the motto, gracing both sides of the craft near the tail. Without seeing the interior it was nonetheless clear to Michael that Gabe had chosen the sub-orbital reserved for use by the corporation's top executives.
Michael boarded, choosing a seat in the passenger compartment nearest to the cockpit. Windows ran the length of the fuselage, allowing each passenger an individual view, one Michael intended to enjoy only until he re-entered the atmosphere just off the European coast at Brest. The flight would be automated, Gabe directly overseeing the craft's travel, until re-entry, at which time Michael would take control. He looked forward to the excitement of manually flying the shuttle into and through the massive snowstorm blanketing the northern part of the continent. From launch it would be about twenty-five minutes before he took over and so he decided to try and relax during that time, thinking happy thoughts if he could find any. Such thoughts seemed to be making a concerted effort to hide from him lately.
As soon as he was in place in his seat a restraint harness automatically lowered over his shoulders, holding him firmly in position. All the passenger seats sat on a base, connecting to it in much the same way a skeletal joint is placed within a corresponding socket. As the shuttle rose into launch position, the seat would swivel on its base, maintaining the occupant in their original position relative to the Earth. Like a gyroscope, the seat would continue to adjust throughout the flight.
"Let's go, Gabe," Michael instructed.
With those words the hanger's roof, five hundred meters overhead, began to open, the shuttle rising to the perpendicular as it did so. Michael's seat rotated with theshuttle's changing position. In launch pose, the rows of seats were vertically situated one above the other from the back wall of the passenger compartment on the bottom to the doorway of the flight deck at the top. They would remain this way until the sub-orbital began leveling off near the height of its flight, preparing for descent back towards Earth. During the downward part of the journey, the seats would rotate to a position almost the exact opposite of launch, again becoming horizontal as the sub-orbital switched to shuttle mode for level atmospheric flight. From the passenger's point of view, he would at all times have remained stationary within the shuttle as the craft rotated around his location.
Michael listened to the engines pulsing rhythmically as they warmed for take-off. A moment later the dampened vibration of launch was felt. He turned his head to look out the window as the gray walls of the hanger raced past him and were instantly replaced by an even grayer winter sky.
The snow was falling faster than when Michael arrived at the facility, the huge white flakes obscuring his view of the Chesapeake. Suddenly, the cloud cover overwhelmed the craft and for a brief second the world ceased to exist. Blinding sunlight then flooded in too quickly for Michael's eyes to adjust as the sub-orbital climbed above the clouds. Within seconds, the photosensitive windows adjusted to shade the interior from the sun's brilliance, allowing Michael to look down on an undulating sea of white and gray cloud tops rapidly retreating from view.
The sub-orbital continued its rise into the ionosphere. At the flight's apex the stars could be seen in the blackness of space and everything around Michael seemed to stop moving. Far off in the distance a weapons platform could be seen as if it were a small moon hanging in close orbit about the Earth. As he continued to observe the deadly construction he became aware that the sub-orbital was moving relative to it. The craft's nose was beginning to drop in preparation for its descent back into the atmosphere. Heat shielding slid into place along the windows and for the next ten minutes, Michael's world consisted of only the sub-orbital's interior.
"Your heart rate has increased, Michael. Are you afraid?" Gabe inquired.
Michael knew it was only one of many possible pre-programmed questions the computer was designed to ask in order to calm him when it detected a situation of possible stress. He knew that Gabe was incapable of a truly genuine concern.
"Thanks for asking, Gabe, but I'm okay. Just a reaction to being closed in so quickly after looking out to infinity."
"Would you like me to play some quiet music?"
"That would be nice. Use my personal settings. Fireside; winter's night." The music began as soon as Michael finished the last word. The volume was perfect and needed no adjustment. His heart rate slowed.
"Do you often think about the Aliens' arrival?" Gabe asked, interrupting the soothing compilation of music and light background sounds of logs sparking in a fireplace.
Michael's heart rate increased sharply with the unexpected question. The increase was due only in part to the nature of the inquiry. Although thinking about the arrival of the Aliens on Earth while being the only human present was in itself reason enough to create anxiety, Michael had an additional concern. Gabe's query had been both spontaneous and not directly related to an intervening event. It struck him that Gabe was operating beyond the parameters of its programming, or at least outside the parameters known to him.
In first detecting Michael's increase in heart rate, Gabe was designed to take measures to lessen what caused it or, if not readily apparent, to find out the reason for the occurrence. Within that framework there had been no purpose to the computer's question about the Aliens. The cause of Michael's initial heart rate increase was obvious; being enclosed in a confined area and commencing re-entry, the riskiest part of any sub-orbital flight after launch. Michael had offered an explanation to Gabe and the computer's own records would have shown that such was an anticipated reaction in these situations. The computer's investigation into the matter should then have ended. Not only had Gabe asked an unnecessary question, he had acted in a manner contrary to his programming; he'd acted in a way that caused Michael's anxiety to increase without having an overriding reason for doing so.
"Why do you ask, Gabe? What's the purpose of your question?"
"There is no purpose. I am being conversational. In stressful situations friendly conversation is healthy."
Michael saw the disingenuousness in Gabe's response and it troubled him even more. If healthy conversation had been the goal, a rudimentary question on an infinite variety of other subjects could have been asked. Gabe knew mentioning the Aliens would only result in increased stress to Michael and, despite knowing this, it had asked anyway. Something didn't feel right but Michael kept his concerns hidden while he tried to figure out what it was.
The window shielding slid away, allowing bright sunlight to again diminish the artificial illumination within the vessel. As Michael's seat adjusted with the movement of the craft in preparation for level flight, his frame of reference changed as well. No longer was he in a clumsy automated sub-orbital, now it was a highly-maneuverable and, soon-to-be, human-controlled shuttle. It would fly and land like a conventional shuttle and the correct flight posture to do so had been assumed. Michael now sat facing forward towards the empty flight deck as the shuttle flew many kilometers above a blanket of clouds that blocked out any view of the Atlantic Ocean. He pictured in his mind the craft's location just west of the European coast.
Ignoring his concerns about Gabe he got ready to assume the pilot's seat. As soon as a stable horizontal position was attained, the safety restraints binding Michael to his seat were released. Standing, he stretched a little, amazed at how fast his muscles had tightened up. Perhaps he was more worried than he'd initially thought.
The flight deck door was open and he marveled at the clear blue sky he could see through the cockpit window. He had anticipated large, harsh winter storm clouds. Entering, he looked at the flight deck's cramped accommodations. He hesitated behind the two well-padded command chairs before finally deciding to follow tradition and slide into the one on the left. Automatically engaged safety restraints again enclosed him as he prepared to take over as pilot.
Michael sat passively, his thoughts his own. He hadn't yet instructed Gabe to release control. He was momentarily confused by the blueness of the sky, having expected an angry winter grayness to face him.
"Level off below the cloud layer," he instructed. "Slow and smooth, Gabe. Slow and smooth."
Although qualified to operate a variety of craft both civilian and military, with atmospheric, orbital or interplanetary capabilities, he preferred to let Gabe handle routine matters.
"Position and ETA to Brest."
"Two hundred eight kilometers from nearest landfall. ETA in five minutes, eleven seconds at present speed," Gabe answered.
The shuttle began to pass through the tops of the clouds, the blue sky in front disappearing from view and then reappearing in rapid succession. Within seconds, there was only the grayness of the clouds as the ship descended fully into their midst.
Closing his eyes, Michael put his head back. He thought about Gabe's question and the response he hadn't given to it. Of course he had thought about the arrival of the Aliens. How couldn't he have? Gabe, with all the information available to it, would have known this. It must have known no human would have been able to ignore considering so momentous an event soon to take place. This only added to Michael's confusion about why the question had been posed.
When they did arrive, how would it take place? Would they come with a bang or a whimper? With an armada of strange looking spacecraft disgorging thousands of horrifying creatures or, alternatively, a single ship, perhaps a scouting expedition, landing surreptitiously? Gabe would know when it happened even if he did not. Nothing moved on Earth, or near Earth that Gabe wasn't aware of. Gabe was omnipotent; it would be impossible for them to arrive unannounced. Gabe would be aware of them before they neared the solar system and he would immediately pass that knowledge on.
Of course, it was possible they wouldn't come at all. It had all been a deception, a hoax, a cosmic joke for a reason only an alien species would understand. They could be laughing at us right now; here we were thinking we were gods of the universe, the only intelligent species in existence, masters of all, and they had frightened us from our home world with what appeared to us, if not to them, a grand display of power.
Michael quickly saw the unworthiness of such thoughts. Of course, they will come. You don't destroy two planets just to motivate the inhabitants of a third planet to leave unless you intended to do what you said you would do. Still, what if it was an elaborate farce by an almost infinitely superior species, amusing itself at the expense of a pitifully insignificant human race?
But we weren't insignificant. We'd explored hundreds of worlds, colonized many of them, terraformed them when needed, traveled to the outer boundaries of our galaxy. We weren't a species to be so easily trifled with. But what did we really know? Until now, we hadn't encountered an alien race, we had begun to doubt that any even existed. More than that, we officially accepted the non-existence of any; we'd grown complacent, believing in humanity's unique status in our universe.
Michael caught himself; "our universe". Did we even have a right to think about it in those terms anymore? "Ours" only in that we existed within it, but not "ours" anymore in an ownership sense wherein it could be used at our pleasure and for our purposes alone. Realizing the double-mindedness of his thoughts, Michael forced himself to take control. He was tired, alone, probably depressed, if only mildly, hopefully only mildly, and it would do him no good to allow his thoughts to bounce between contrary positions. The Aliens were coming, that was not to be doubted, and he would be ready, clear-minded when they arrived. Even so, he had to wonder why an overpowering, ascendant species had chosen such a scenario for their first interaction with humans.
These aliens certainly appeared to be all-powerful. Centuries ago people traveling from the European continent to the western hemisphere had also seemed godlike to the inhabitants. The Europeans had quickly acted to dispel the illusion surrounding them in the natives' minds. Once known more fully, the veil would no doubt lift and the aliens would become the same to us as those ancient Europeans had become to the natives of the Americas. But what if other alien races existed as well, alien races that all operated at a technological level far beyond our ability to conceive? What if we were indeed an insignificant, backwater species that had been, and would continue to be, unworthy of a much larger cosmic civilization? What if we just happened to be a temporary curiosity to be examined before being passed by?
Michael realized there would be no answers immediately given to his questions. Only by experiencing what was to come could he and his fellow humans hope to begin to understand this new development in their history. So unsettling was it to have your self-perceptions altered in such an unexpected fashion. So unsettling to be treated with such little respect. So unsettling to no longer be the masters.
Michael opened his eyes. Something didn't feel right, as if he were being watched. The shuttle was still flying level with an unseen horizon, surrounded by gray clouds, but something wasn't right. He had sensed something. It was as if someone stood at his back.
Quickly turning, he saw that no one was there. Turning again to face forward, from the corner of his eye, off to his left, he noticed a variation in the shading of the clouds. In one small area, only a couple of meters across, a darker color underlay the cloud surface. No sooner did he turn his head to look directly at it, then it disappeared. The area within the cloud where it had been was again the same monotonous gray as the rest.
The disturbing aspect to the variation in shading wasn't that it had been a darker spot on or within the vaporous cover as the clouds shot past the window, but that the shading had kept pace with the shuttle as the craft flew along. It had taken only a couple of seconds from the time Michael sensed a presence until he had begun to turn his head to look out the window, but in that time the ship had traveled over a thousand meters, and all the while the shading had matched its speed.
"Gabe, are there any solid objects in close proximity to the shuttle?"
"Water vapor in a condensed form surrounds the shuttle."
"No, no, no. In the last thirty seconds have there been any solid objects with a minimum surface area approximating my own body within a hectometer of the shuttle?"
"No."
"Any solid object bigger than my hand within a kilometer of the shuttle in the last minute?"
"Nothing."
"How far away is the nearest object that would come within the parameter of either of my previous two questions?"
"Five point one eight kilometers, minus thirty-six degrees northeast of present location."
Michael's heart stopped. "Identify."
"It is a bird, commonly referred to as a seagull," Gabe replied.
Michael smiled uneasily. He must be feeling more stress than he wanted to admit. What he thought he'd seen couldn't have been a seagull. Not at the altitude and the speed the shuttle was traveling. Being tired he must have mistaken sunlight filtering through the clouds, acting upon his own anxious imagination, to create an illusion. He was so certain though. It wasn't only what he thought he'd seen; it was something he'd sensed, a gut feeling. He had felt a presence; an intelligence watching him. 'Someone' as opposed to 'something' was there. He'd been so sure of it. He couldn't have been imagining it.
"Descend below the clouds immediately and release control to me," Michael instructed Gabe, hoping some activity would help to clear his head.
He was jostled by the abrupt drop as Gabe complied without any hesitation. Breaking from the cloud cover Michael now saw that he was much closer to the European coast than anticipated. Like aviators in centuries past he took hold of the steering yoke and began to fly the shuttle. It felt good to be in control. The sight of land so near helped him to relax. Soon he would be on solid ground. Soon he'd finally have something worthwhile to do. Soon he wouldn't have to be alone with his thoughts.
Michael began to smile. He was beginning to feel at peace as he sped toward the French coast.
A few meters above the shuttle and only slightly behind, unseen within the clouds, a small dark shape kept pace.