Earth in the twenty-fifth century is a very different place than anyone could have imagined, even a century ago. After the devastating ecological disasters of the late twenty-first and early twenty-second centuries, where well over thirty percent of all plant and animal life died off, the remaining population of the planet came to a realization of just how close they came to complete extinction. The extreme stresses the planet had endured as it struggled to support a population exceeding nine billion people gradually disappeared. Showing the astonishing resiliency the planet had evidenced throughout its five billion year life, the rain forests of the Amazon began to breathe again and replenish the atmosphere with oxygen. The ozone hole which had opened up over the bottom third of the planet, causing widespread damage to life as the sun’s unfiltered ultraviolet radiation poured in unabated, slowly closed up and resumed its life-sustaining role as the planet’s sunscreen. Even the earth’s magnetic field had recovered from a severely weakened state, which allowed wide areas of the planet to be bombarded by cosmic rays and coronal mass ejection particles from the normally-friendly sun.
After the mass exodus from the earth to off-planet colonies in the early twenty-third century, the population on the planet stabilized at around three billion people. A fundamental shift in the consciousness of everyone on the planet resulted in a new reverence and respect for the beautiful, serene planet which for many millions of years had been the only home that the race of man had ever known. Gone were the polluting industries and atomic generators which for so long ran uncontrolled and laid waste to the land, sea and air. Gone was the complete disregard for the other denizens of the planet which had peacefully shared the abundance of earth for millennia. Gone was the obsolete, antiquated notion that somehow humans were the divinely chosen species of earth which could use and abuse any resource or any other form of life on the planet for their own selfish whims. And the anachronistic, archaic organized religions which had for so long encouraged and enabled the systematic rape and pillage of the planet fell swiftly out of favor and all but became extinct themselves on the world where they once held sway absolutely and unequivocally. In their place came a new holistic, naturalistic view of the role of humans on the planet, not as stewards or even caretakers, but as co-habitants, on an equal footing with all the other forms of life which called this beautiful blue planet home. The spirit of Gaia once again walked across the face of Earth.
This brand new relationship between the Earth and its human inhabitants allowed the planet to move to the next phase of its existence. Its wildly varied, diverse and unique environments and climates were quickly recognized as unique and exceedingly precious on all the burgeoning worlds of the rapidly-expanding Galactic Alliance. The Earth quickly became a resort planet, a vacation destination for many different kinds of beings. The inhabitants of the hot, dry desert planet Tau Cygni found the wet, rainy environs of the Pacific Northwest and the Hawaiian islands completely irresistible. None of them had ever seen water falling from the sky and several of them actually fainted and required medical attention when the first space transport landed outside of Seattle on a typically rainy day. Creatures from the watery world of Epsilon Crucis found a limitless number of recreational opportunities in the vast depths of the Pacific Ocean. The Libyan Desert and sub-Saharan Africa played host to thousands of visitors from the Beta Taurid system, which arrived on Earth in large caravans of transport vessels.
Even the pristine, frigid, white expanses of the Antarctic continent were the exotic playground of many residents of frozen planets in several different star systems, and several large, teeming resort cities dotted Terra Nova bay south of Tasmania. But the Galactic Alliance shuttlecraft which glided noiselessly across the Antarctic Peninsula did not contain vacationers heading for new, wonderful experiences, but instead carried a lone Terran, whose first time back on Earth in twelve years was marred by the fact that he was several hundreds of miles from the South Pole, the coldest place on the planet, and he hated the cold and the snow.
The Antarctic winter had just begun several weeks ago and the tourists had been gone for months. The windswept snow-desert below would be in constant darkness for the next three months, and the occupant of the shuttlecraft noted with dismay that the computers had pegged the surface temperature at minus fifty-two degrees Fahrenheit. The stars of the southern constellations glittered in the brittle iciness of the jet-black sky, interrupted only by the graceful, swirling pirouettes of the aurora australis, the Southern Lights. The shuttlecraft pilot noted that his vessel had just crossed over the radar perimeter of the Rimdao science station, and he would be appearing on someone’s monitor screen very shortly.
Sure enough, a few seconds later the voice came over the communication system. “Rimdao Science One welcomes the Galactic Alliance Starship Archangel shuttlecraft, the Tao Berundi. Shuttle pilot, please identify yourself.” The occupant wryly observed that although the science station could read the transponder information of the shuttlecraft, the pilot and any occupants had to identify themselves the old-fashioned way. He took his military credentials and placed them in a scanning unit on one side of the navigation console. The information was read and transmitted to the science station in seconds, and the voice came back, “Welcome Lieutenant Richardson. Please land at the southwest landing pad and proceed to the portal.”
Fifteen minutes later, Brisbane could just barely make out in the inky distance a tiny cluster of orange and green lights that marked the location of the Rimdao Science Station. Here in the depths of the southern winter, the station was just about deserted, its skeleton crew of maintenance workers and die-hard scientists locked in an unbreakable grip of cold and darkness. Brisbane knew he was heading to one of the most isolated places on the whole surface of Earth, and the fact that he was summoned there by one of the most prominent diplomats in the Alliance, whom he still did not know by name, only added to the surrealism and sense of mystery and urgency. As he began his descent to the station landing area, his shuttlecraft began to be buffeted by the near-hurricane force winds which raked the frozen surface with merciless intensity.
Fighting to keep his vessel on an even keel, the powerful, erratic winds kept knocking the shuttlecraft off a safe landing approach, and he had to make at least three attempts before he finally set the craft down on the landing pad. The unexpected bumping and jarring unnerved him a little further, and he quickly donned his thermal gear for the mad dash he would have to make to the entrance to the station. There were no climate-controlled, heated and sheltered force-field tunnels to insulate him from the raging fury of the elements, and Brisbane knew he was in for a rough experience. He took at quick, final look at the environmental sensors, which put the temperature at minus 57 degrees and the wind speed varying wildly between 52 and 68 miles per hour, and knew he had to make this very short and sweet.
Even with all the precautions he took, Brisbane was still unprepared for the howling, screaming ferocity of the weather as he popped the hatch of the shuttlecraft and took the headlong plunge outside. He was nearly knocked immediately off his feet by the pulsing gusts of wind. The blasts of super cold air seemed to suck the breath right out of his lungs, and it hurt to try to breathe in more air. His eyes began to water from the intense cold and his tears froze instantly to the corners of his eyes. His eyes were not yet accustomed to the moonless night, and only with great difficulty could he make out the barest outlines of buildings in front of him in the steely blue starlight. He could not believe that any place on Earth could have such a hateful, vicious climate, and began running as fast as he could to the entry portal, outlined in dim orange lights.
Just as he approached the portal, it began to open, and bright yellow light flooded outward and made the ice crystals on the ground sparkle in wide swathes of bronze and gold. Brisbane could see the blurred shadow of a human immersed in the light and ran toward it. The feel of the person’s grip on his arm pulling him in was one of the most pleasurable and reassuring things he felt in a long time, and he felt very much relieved when the entry portal closed behind him and he left the raging, unforgiving weather behind.
“Lieutenant Richardson, I presume,” the person said as Brisbane coughed and sputtered and tried to regain his breath. Pulling down the hood of his parka, the person gave Brisbane a firm handshake and said, “Doctor William Stromeyer, winter administrator of Rimdao One, pleased to meet you.” Brisbane looked at the young man, bearded and blonde, and wondered what would possess a youthful, vibrant and intelligent person to live for six months in near total isolation, away from family, friends and everything familiar. Then he suddenly realized that the same thing that motivates a young William Stromeyer also motivated a young Brisbane Richardson when he began his Galactic Alliance career nearly twenty-five years ago.
“That was quite a reception I got when I landed,” Brisbane said as they moved down the corridor to the main part of the station. “Which weather gods have you pissed off recently?”
“Are you kidding?” laughed William. “This is a nice day! You should see when we get some really bad weather!”
“You can’t be serious,” Brisbane said in amazement. “Hopefully that will be one experience that I will be able to defer as long as possible.”
“It’s a real pleasure to having you visit us, Lieutenant,” William said as they entered a small suite of modest offices, across from a bank of monitoring equipment and computers. “We don’t get many people at all here at all this time of year.”
“And with a climate like this, you won’t get many more,” Brisbane quipped. “How many regular staff do you have here right now?”
William pressed a couple of buttons on a food station and the room was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. “There are a total of fourteen people here now, including me,” he said, handing the cup to Brisbane. “During the summertime we have between a hundred twenty and a hundred fifty scientists here. But these days,” he said, looking around at the dark, deserted corridors and offices, “getting a single visitor is a rarity. And getting two visitors in less than a day, well, that’s downright unprecedented.”
“So the ambassador is already here,” Brisbane said as he sipped the hot coffee. He turned to look at his companion. “You gonna tell me who it is?” he asked.
“I was going to ask you the same question,” William said, arching his eyebrows upward. “I have no idea who it is. I have been forbidden to approach or contact him in any way.”
Brisbane looked down to the creamy, chestnut-brown liquid in his cup and watched the reflection of the blue and green lights from the computer banks dance across its surface. “They’ve really kept the lid on this thing,” he said. “I knew something was up whenever the Archangel stayed in orbit after the Headquarters dedication ceremonies in Edinburgh last month. Everyone was given extra shore leave so there were no complaints, but I knew something was going on.”
The two men stood around in the quiet admin area, making small talk and discussing the long winter at the Rimdao, and also flying from one end of the galaxy to the other in a sleek, beautiful, blue and silver starship. As Brisbane finished the last of his coffee, a light began blinking on a computer console in front of them. “Are you going to introduce me to the ambassador, William?” Brisbane asked.
“No, I’m not,” he said, as he zipped up the front of his parka and looked as if he was preparing to leave. “The ambassador will be meeting with you shortly. As for me,” he said, putting his gloves on, “I have my orders to leave you two alone.”
A bit taken aback with this, Brisbane couldn’t think of much to say as William finished putting on his weather gear and headed toward the passageway to the portal. “It was good to meet you, Brisbane,” he said. “Hope to see you again. Stay safe and enjoy your stay.” Without another word, William pulled the hood of his parka up and headed for the portal. Seconds later Brisbane heard the metallic hatch open up and the howling, screaming winds echoed throughout the dark hallways and cubicles. Just as quickly, the hatch slammed shut and Brisbane was left in the dimly lit admin center, with only the blinking and softly beeping computers to keep him company.
Looking around, Brisbane was again impressed by the odd surrealism of the moment, and sat down on a small couch. He started to wonder why on earth he was here and just began to think about how soon he would be able to get out of there, when he was startled when he heard a door softly open down a dark corridor. Sitting straight up on the couch, he felt every fiber of his being become alert, and the hair on the back of his head stood up. He saw a shadowy, robed figure come out of a room and walk slowly up the corridor, still concealed by the darkness. Brisbane felt his hand automatically start to move toward the Plexor weapon he wore in his shoulder holster as the being approached, and was very surprised indeed when they walked out of the dark corridor into the light of the admin area. The single ceiling light above illuminated a dark, prominent brow line and thick eyebrows, but their eyes still remained in shadow.
Brisbane felt a jolt of recognition flash through his body. “Ambassador Craethon!” he said in complete surprise. “I – I didn’t expect to see you here, sir,” he said, standing up a bit unsteadily.
Still not saying anything, the Kellurian ambassador to the Galactic Alliance walked right past Brisbane and over to a small porthole-type of window which was as absolutely black as the shadows which still cloaked him. Craethon had been the chief liaison between the Kellurian Empire and the Galactic Alliance for nearly the past twenty years of some the most difficult and contentious times between the two superpowers of this quadrant of the galaxy. Brisbane remembered how Craethon and several aides stood stony-faced and unimpressed by the colorful dedication ceremonies of the new Galactic Alliance headquarters building last month. That the Kellurian Empire even sent representatives to attend the gala was viewed as a major concession to good will, given the increasing tensions between the two federations. The relationship between the Kellurians and the Alliance has always been a bumpy roller-coaster ride at best, swinging wildly from bellicose saber-rattling with nuclear weapons to the relative thaw which had been building recently but somehow seemed to be coming to an end. But any contact involving the Empire and the Alliance had always been done under the most formal, controlled diplomatic circumstances, and this decidedly back-channel contact between the two entities was most unusual and atypical.
A tight, stifling silence descended on the room and Brisbane said nothing, allowing the ambassador to slowly pace the other side of the room. “I understand you are somewhat critical of the weather outside, Richardson,” the ambassador said in his deep, gravelly voice.
Brisbane looked around in confusion, not really knowing how to make small talk with a Kellurian ambassador. Not giving Brisbane much time to come up with a response, the ambassador continued. “The other Terran was correct when he said this weather is actually quite benign. It reminds me very much of the Tripoint region of the Kellur polar wilderness where I grew up. Weather like this, we would go outside without a coat.” He turned to look at Brisbane, still wearing his thermal gear and helmet. “I am continually amazed at how eager humans are to spare themselves any form or discomfort or deprivation,” he sneered.
Brisbane felt his left eyebrow arch upward. He immediately thought of several terse responses, and under normal diplomatic conditions a retort would be unthinkable, but Brisbane realized that since everything about their meeting was completely off-the-record and shrouded in secrecy, this might be a good opportunity to even the playing field a bit.
“And I am consistently amazed at the stubborn Kellurian inability to simply know when it’s a bad idea to go outside,” he said dryly, not budging an inch. The ambassador was still hidden in shadow, so Brisbane could not see the slightest hint of a smile that crossed his face.
“Your reputation precedes you, Richardson,” the ambassador said, “and it is deserved. I have always felt you were one of the few representatives of your species with whom I could conceivably do business.” Brisbane gave an involuntary sidelong glance, not entirely sure if he had been insulted or not.
“So let’s do business, shall we?” the ambassador asked. He walked over to a computer monitor and inserted a small data cartridge into the slot reader. “Have you ever heard of the planet Dreen 7?” he asked.
Brisbane thought for a second at such a relatively obscure reference. “As I recall, Ambassador, Dreen 7 is one of several dozen minor planets in the borderlands between the Kellurian Empire and subgalactic Abyss. It is a class L planet, with abundant microbial and aquatic vertebrate and invertebrate life, mammalian life just starting to proliferate, no humanoid species as of yet. Your Empire and several other planetary confederations each make specious claims as to ownership of Dreen 7, ostensibly based on a cultural or historical basis, but everyone knows it has more to do with extensive deposits of hexagenasite ore than anything else.”
“I don’t need to hear your Alliance’s revisionist history of the planet, Richardson,” the ambassador snapped. “Just take a look at this image and tell me, briefly and succinctly if possible, what you see.” The ambassador touched a couple of computer controls and a monitor screen flashed on.
Brisbane walked over and looked at the monitor. “The image appears to be of a landscape of a temperate climate, with a wide diversity of life.” The picture indeed showed a scene of gently rolling hills covered in grass, with abundant tree and plant life. Several species of small- to medium-sized animals were apparent, along with a flock of bird-like creatures taking flight in a bluish-green sky peppered with white clouds. “Was that succinct enough for you?” he asked pointedly.
Ignoring the last comment, the ambassador switched to another image. “Now what do you see?” he growled. The next photograph showed a scene which could not be more different from the first. It was a panorama of death and dissolution which was almost painful to look at. The grass and all plant life were dead and brown, and the ground was littered with the corpses of several dozen animals. The empty sky was laced with gray and black clouds, and overall it was a picture of startling, complete destruction and the total absence of life and vitality. The look of shock and stunned surprise on Brisbane’s face indicated to the ambassador that no spoken answer was necessary.
The ambassador touched another control on the computer and the two very different images were displayed side-by-side on the monitor, along with technical information about the pictures along the bottom. It was only then that Brisbane could pick out some similarities between the hills and other topographic features which led him to realize that these two photographs could possibly be images of the same area.
“Take a look at the latitude and longitude information on the bottom of the photographs, along with the timestamps,” the ambassador instructed. When Brisbane reviewed the information, his suspicions were confirmed and his jaw dropped.
“These are photographs of the exact same area on the planet!” he said with increasing alarm. “And – how can this be? – they appear to be taken less than a year apart!”
“Correct on both counts,” the ambassador said. “In one instance, a picture of a fertile world, teeming with life and promise, taken by one of our survey teams last year; less than 10 months later, a dead planet, completely devoid of life.”
Brisbane took a closer look at the later image. “Those dead animals in the foreground, they don’t appear to be decomposing, they just look like they all just went to sleep.”
“They are not showing any normal signs of degradation because life on the planet has been extinguished, down to the microbial level. Dreen 7 has effectively been sterilized of all forms of life,” the ambassador intoned solemnly.
Again the hair on the back of his neck stood on end as Brisbane realized he was looking at something of equally horrible and important at the same time. “Do you have any idea what caused this disaster, Ambassador?” he asked warily.
“The minute we discovered this destruction the science administration on Kellur immediately quarantined the planet and proscribed any direct contact,” the ambassador replied. “The best we could do was to launch several robotic probes to various places on the planet and examine the results.” The two men relaxed their guard toward one another as they both realized at the same time that they were dealing with something much more serious than the animosity their two peoples seem to naturally feel toward each other.
“The results were dismaying similar,” he continued. “No signs of an alien chemical, biological or radiological agent. No occurrence of any natural seismic or meteorological process which could be responsible. In short, we saw no evidence of any natural or artificial process that could have induced such a catastrophe.”
“Any idea of the specific cause of death of the animals?” Brisbane asked.
“Without doing a direct necropsy, the best our scientists could infer from the sketchy diagnostics of the robot probe were two things – advanced septicemia and decrepitude.”
Brisbane looked at him in disbelief. “They all died of blood poisoning and advanced age?” he asked incredulously.
“Exactly,” the ambassador confirmed. “And, there are several other strange aspects to this mystery.” He reached over an activated another control on the computer. The two images of the planet disappeared and another image displayed, this one a graph of numerous radiation profiles. There were at least ten differently-colored lines on the graph, but one of them appeared to do an instantaneous vertical climb right off the top of the chart, followed by an equally precipitous plunge back to a normal level.
“At first no one even noticed this extreme radiation spike, it occurred suddenly with no warning and lasted all of 4 nanoseconds. When someone finally took an extremely detailed look at the raw data from the radiation monitors, we detected a completely unprecedented blast of highly energetic neutrinos emanating from the vicinity of the planet, which for an extremely small slice of time was beyond our capability to measure,” the ambassador said. “That made our scientists take notice, and in the same timeframe one of our shielded surveillance probes detected the presence of several unidentified spacecraft in the vicinity.” The ambassador switched to another image which showed a blurry, grainy radar scan of three tiny spacecraft hovering above the curved arc of the planet’s surface.
This was the first time any Kellurian had even hinted at the existence of their shielded, invisible network of spy spacecraft, which the Alliance had long suspected but could not prove, but Brisbane regarded this tacit admission by a representative of the Kellurian Empire to be completely insignificant compared to the horrific mystery unfolding in front of him.
The ambassador touched another control and the picture of the three ships expanded to fill the screen. “No transponder information was recorded from these three vessels,” he said, “so our military quickly dispatched several battle cruisers, which were in the area under cloak of gravity screen, to investigate this trespass of sovereign Kellurian territory.” Brisbane rolled his eyes but said nothing. “Our military vessels surprised the intruders by dropping out of compressed space just as they fired a nuclear-tipped rocket at the surface of the planet. The missile was destroyed by a Kellurian fighter before it could reach the planet’s surface. The intruders fled into compressed space before anything could be done to stop them.”
“Apparently it was more important for them to get away from you than it was to finish their business on the planet,” Brisbane said.
“It would appear so,” the ambassador said, “and since that time the planet has been constantly monitored by Kellurian military patrols and no vessel has been allowed anywhere near. A sliver of information was obtained from the radioactive exhaust signature from the largest Cusp ship. We ran that information through every database that we had with no results. So, we had an operative run the information through your Galactic Alliance Central Library computers.”
Brisbane’s jaw nearly dropped open at that statement. The Alliance Central Library computers were supposed to be the most secured and advanced computers in the entire Alliance, and this ambassador was cavalierly talking about breaching that ultimate security as if it was nothing at all.
“And, amazingly we did get a partial hit,” he said, pointing to the larger vessel. “Apparently your very own Archangel came in contact with the vessel many years ago above the planet Enceladus, a short time after it was stolen right under your noses from the Galactic Repair Facility 245.” The ambassador tapped the monitor screen a couple of times. “This vessel has been definitely linked to the Cusp Foundation!”
Brisbane felt his blood pressure rise upon the mention of the hated Cusp Foundation. Considered by most planetary governments as a powerful, extremely dangerous cult, the Cusp Foundation formed after the collapse of the Roman Catholic Church on Earth in the twenty-second century and eventually evolved into a terrorist organization inexplicably obsessed with the end of the universe.
The ambassador turned off the monitor and looked directly at Brisbane for the first time. “Very little is known about the Cusp Foundation and their leadership, but there have been rumors that a new central figure has emerged within the shadowy structure of the Cusp Foundation and this leader is starting to increasingly be described in messianic terms. In fact, he is referred to with the ancient Terran name ‘Eosphorus’, which means ‘morning star’ or the Herald of the Dawn.” the ambassador said grimly. “So, the pieces to this puzzle are this: a highly suspicious neutrino pulse, the appearance of some clandestine vessels associated with a known terrorist organization, a new leader within that organization who is gathering power and reputation, and a dead planet completely devoid of life. The big question is, are these incidents and developments completely random, or are they in fact interrelated?”
“And if they are,” Brisbane interjected, “what are the relationships and where are they leading?”
The ambassador continued, “We won’t get to answer some of these questions unless someone goes to the planet itself and investigate firsthand and gather evidence. Our scientists cannot find the presence of any active agent on the planet which would present a danger at this time, but they cannot be sure, and the military will not let them close enough to gather additional data. The Kellurian government is currently preoccupied with making threatening noises to your Galactic Alliance, so they are happy to ignore the matter on Dreen 7.” He continued to keep Brisbane in his steely gaze. “But there are some of us who believe it cannot be ignored.”
It suddenly dawned on Brisbane what he was getting at. “So you’re bringing this to my attention to get me to attempt to circumvent Kellurian security, violate Kellurian sovereignty and land on a dead planet to try to figure out what happened? Is that it?” Brisbane looked around the room, not believing what the ambassador was implying. “With tensions rising between our two governments you want me to risk a major interplanetary incident and defy your own scientific quarantine and military blockade? What makes you think the Galactic Alliance would even consider such an insane plan? We do have our own rules about missions and territorial claims and quarantines!”
The ambassador glared at Brisbane. “Since when have you become preoccupied with rules and regulations, Richardson?” he snapped. “The Galactic Alliance and the Kellurian Empire will know nothing of this subject. The only reason I dragged myself out to this wretchedly cold waste of real estate was to meet up with the esteemed Brisbane Richardson, whom I was told was the best person to deal with this situation by none other than your own Captain Robert Twillig.”
Brisbane was taken back with surprise. “Captain Twillig knows about this?” he asked in disbelief.
“I originally spoke to Twillig immediately after that excruciatingly boring and annoying Alliance headquarters dedication ceremony in your city of Edinburgh,” the ambassador said. “He said you have had extensive contact with the Cusp Foundation in past years, and he actually did a lot of behind-the-scenes maneuvering to make our pleasant little meeting here happen without anyone knowing about it.”
“Now that you mention it, it would take a very highly-placed person in the Alliance power structure to get the two of us together,” Brisbane said. “If this mission is important enough for Captain Twillig to risk setting up this meeting behind everyone’s back, then maybe it’s something for me to look into.”
“Needless to say, Richardson, this action must be conducted under the tightest security and secrecy possible,” the ambassador continued. “If word of this was to get out, the three of us would spend the rest of our lives in a detention facility.” The ambassador looked at Brisbane for a few seconds and pulled the data cartridge out of the computer reader. He placed it on the table in front of Brisbane. “Here is all the technical information we have been able to glean about the situation on Dreen 7. I will leave it up to your devious little mind to figure out a way to get on and off the planet. I will make arrangements on my side to make your access and egress to and from the planet a little easier. If you need to contact me, your captain will know how to do that.” Without another word, the ambassador turned and walked down the silent hall into a darkened room. The door closed behind him with barely a sound and once again, Brisbane was left in the dimly lit admin center with only the blinking and softly beeping computers to keep him company, wondering just what kind of an impossible situation had just been dropped in his lap.
