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CHAPTER 52

January 17, 2100 (Earth/Proxima timeline)

Proxima b, aka Fintidier

“Commander Rogers, are the scientists close to wrapping up down there?” asked Captain Crosby via audio link, interrupting Mike’s discussion with one of the scientists about which corridor they should explore next. The team’s incursion into the now-open underground chambers was going well. They had been exploring, sampling, photographing, and otherwise cataloging everything they found once the stone had been removed—and it was a mother lode. They were not even close to being finished.

“Uh, no sir, we are not,” Rogers replied.

“Well, you might want to either wrap it up and come home or start getting ready for company. There are three large aircraft headed your way. We’ve been monitoring their flight since they took off about two hours ago. They at first appeared to be following one of the flight routes around the ‘forbidden zone’ until they deviated and began moving toward your location about ten minutes ago.”

“What is their ETA?” asked Rogers.

“At their current rate of speed, two hours and eight minutes. I’m sending the live radar feed to you now so you can track them in real time.”

“Thanks, Captain.”

“Commander, Ambassador Jesus would like to speak with you as well. I am patching him in from the basecamp. Here he is,” said Crosby.

“Commander, I just want to remind you that our interaction with the Fintidierians is in its formative stages and we’ve gone behind their backs, going to locations other than those they requested we remain within and, I might add, to an area that may well be considered sacred to them for some reason. Your presence there might be perceived as more than just a violation of the initial agreement as to where we would remain. It might be sacrilegious or worse. It is imperative that this not escalate into violence,” said Jesus.

“Ambassador, I hear you loud and clear, but I am going to do whatever is necessary to protect my team and the scientists. That’s my job.”

“With all due respect, your job is subordinate to mine, which is to establish peaceful relations with the Fintidierians and render medical aid to help them solve their population, dare I say, extinction crisis. It might be necessary for us, for you and our security team, to make sacrifices to preserve that larger mission.”

“I understand, but I won’t know what I need to do until I need to do it. I will keep that in mind, but you will have to trust me. I am here and you are not. Signing off,” Rogers said as he cut the connection.

“Major Maksutov!” Rogers called out.

“Yes, sir!” said the Russian, trotting forward from the encampment where it looked like he had been grabbing some dinner and, knowing the Russians, probably a bit of vodka—even while on duty. He claimed it made him more “aware” of his surroundings.

“We have some incoming aircraft, possibly hostile. You and Lt. Kenosha need to break out the antiaircraft missiles, light them up with the radar, and get ready to take them out. The locals are sending in some aircraft and I don’t want them to get anywhere near this base. The folks who like to chat are going to try to get them called off, and I hope to God they do. But if they don’t, then we have to assume they are hostile and we will defend ourselves,” said Rogers.

“Yes, sir!” replied the major as he began to sprint toward the pallet where the weapons had been unloaded. They had brought them because, well, “just in case” they were needed. Good soldiers plan for contingencies, even unlikely ones, because those are often the ones that might kill you.

“Major, hang on,” Rogers called out.

“Sir.” Maksutov stopped and turned around.

“Set one of them to fly ahead and above its target for detonation. If the diplomatic approach fails, then I may want to fire a warning shot before we take any of the planes out. They might just get the hint and save their own lives in the process.”

* * *

“There’s another one, and this one appears to be coming toward the basecamp,” said Crosby, relaying the location of what appeared to be another aircraft, similar, if not identical, to the one that brought the Fintidierian ambassador the last time. “ETA at the basecamp in just a little over an hour and only about fifteen minutes before the planes headed toward the excavation team arrive at their location.”

“I’ll get ready,” Charles replied. He was expecting something like this. Somehow their excursion to the southern continent had been detected and now it was time to pay the piper. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How did they possibly think they could literally walk onto another world, move around at will, and not be found out? We have better tech than the natives and that made us arrogant.

With well over half the complement of Earth humans somewhere else, either on the Samaritan or the southern continent, it was going to be difficult to make their compound look fully occupied. He alerted everyone else in the compound to get ready for visitors and prepared for it being decidedly unfriendly, whatever that might mean. He took a deep breath and tried to put himself in the shoes of the Fintidierians, or the moccasins of the ancient Mayans, as he contemplated how he might explain their blatant ignoring of the requested isolation—and explicit Fintidierian request that they remain at the basecamp. He had hoped to plead ignorance, but with so many people gone, that would not hold water. He decided it would be best to wait and see why they were paying a visit rather than worry. Worry would do no good anyway.

In the perpetual twilight that passed as daytime for the locals, Charles could hear the approaching plane before he could see it. As last time, it roared its way onto the landing strip and puttered to a stop before the side door opened, dropping the stairs. Immediately thereafter, Secretary General Arctinier and her two protectors descended, looking not very happy.

“Madam Secretary, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?” asked Charles, fingers mentally crossed. He was alone on the tarmac, having thought it would be best for no one other than himself to be visible rather than a few, which might prompt questions as to their whereabouts. He found himself wishing the SEALs were among those who remained. Both Captain Crosby and Commander Rogers were tied into the conversation, listening via his ear patch.

“Ambassador, I am here to discuss with you the blatant violation of our sovereignty, and our specific request that you and the rest of your team remain here until the requested isolation period is complete.”

“Madam Secretary, I am—”

“Ambassador, please spare us the unpleasantness. We know that some of your number are in Misropos and we must ask that you have them depart from there immediately. They are in grave danger.”

Misropos. That must be what the locals call the keep-out area with the ruins, thought Charles as he carefully constructed his next few words.

“Let’s dispense with the formalities and get to the issue. Yes, we have a small team there investigating the ruins. We thought long and hard about whether or not to go—whether to ask permission or forgiveness. We opted for the latter. We are here to help you and unless we know what has happened here, your history as well as your biology, we might not be able to help you. And when I say ‘here,’ I mean everywhere on the planet.”

“Ruins? In Misropos? That is news to me, but what is not news is that unless your team leaves immediately, they may die,” she replied.

“Are they in immediate danger, other than from the aircraft you have headed toward them?”

“I suspected you would know about the military flights headed there. No, whether or not they are in danger from us depends upon how you and they react to our request, our order, that they depart. That area is strictly off-limits for fear of contagion, fatal contagion. It has nothing to do with our current biological problems,” she said.

“Madam Secretary, please excuse me while I confer with my colleagues,” Charles said. He stepped to the side and turned away from her so he could speak without being overheard. “Commander Rogers, are you getting this? She says there is some sort of virus or something there that you might catch. I’m thinking we may need to evacuate you.”

“That’s a negative, Mr. Ambassador, we cannot leave now. If there is a disease here, then it is too late. Given how long we’ve been here, we are all exposed. If we leave now, then we might still get sick and not have all the information about this place that we want. We can have medical check us out when we get back and isolate at the basecamp until we know if we’ve caught something. And those military planes are almost on top of us. Are we about to be attacked?”

“I’ll find out. Stand by,” replied Charles, turning back to the secretary general.

“Madam Secretary, I admit that our team is there and that if they are going to catch something, then it is too late to do anything about it. I beg your forgiveness for this incursion but it is imperative they complete their reconnaissance and not leave prematurely. Once they are finished, they will return here and we will once again go into quarantine to make sure there is not contagion.”

“That is unacceptable, I—” she began.

“Madam Secretary, as you are undoubtedly aware, part of our team are trained to provide security and some are in the military. Our weapons are far superior to yours and I would hate for any misunderstanding between Commander Rogers’s team and your incoming aircraft to result in a loss of life—on either side. We apologize for breaking your rules and beg you to call them off before something happens that we will all regret,” he said.

Secretary Arctinier’s stare was among the best Charles had ever seen in any tense negotiation. For a brief moment, he thought she was going to push him over the edge and allow a confrontation.

Arctinier turned toward the open door on the airplane and called out something in Fintidier that Charles could not understand. She then turned back toward him, her gaze no less intense and her anger still simmering within it.

“I have instructed my pilot to tell our planes to divert immediately. It may take a few minutes for the message to be relayed to the aircraft, but they should veer off as soon as they get the message,” she said.

“I will inform Commander Rogers. Mike, did you get that?” Charles said to himself so that the earpiece and Secretary Arctinier could hear.

“Roger that, I’ll let you know when they turn around.”

“Madam Secretary, I must ask, why did you not tell us about this region and the possible risk of going there? Does it have something to do with the ruins?” Charles asked.

“I am reluctant to show my ignorance, but I suspect you have already figured out that I know nothing of there being ruins in Misropos. As for the keep-out zone, we had planned to inform you later. That region has been off-limits for as long as we have kept historical records. Entering it is strictly forbidden and punishable by death. It is one of the few capital crimes we have and your team has blatantly committed such a crime. That is, of course, if they survive the trip. Your curiosity and rule breaking have placed everyone from your ship in mortal danger.”

“Thank you for calling off your military response. If you can believe me, and if we survive the breach, then I promise we will share with you everything we learn at the ruins.”

“I am sure you will understand if I tell you I have a hard time believing you,” she replied.

“As would I, if our roles were reversed. May I ask how you knew our team was there?”

“You may ask, but I choose to not answer. But I will tell you what those aircraft were ordered to do so you can get an idea of how serious we take this breach.”

“And that was?” Charles asked, not quite sure he wanted to know the answer.

“The planes are fully loaded with incendiaries. Their objective was to firebomb your team to sterilize the area and make sure there was no chance of the contagion spreading. I will retain this option, and others, should your people get sick and bring the contagion back here. I must ask that you again quarantine yourselves and this time we plan to monitor your activities much more closely. It will take some time to regain trust.”

“I hope that whatever our team finds at the site will overcome any mistrust and allow our peoples to move forward with solving your problem,” said Charles.

“As do I.”



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