A Close Encounter In Deep Space

HM Cuello

In 2070, a rogue AI suicide bomber set off an Electromagnetic Pulse (EMP), propelling the world back a hundred years; thus, a New World Order has emerged.

Since then, the New Russian Republic (NRR) has become the dominant power. Because their bureaucracy had everything backed up in paper documents, they recovered much quicker than other countries and quickly took advantage.

At the Baikonur Cosmodrome, the NRR had spacecraft in the process of being assembled, Those systems-due to their shielding- were not affected by the EMP. Their Star City Space Command facility was equally unaffected.

In 2100, from their position of power, they decided on an ambitious goal and scoured the New World Provinces for scientists, setting out to conquer space.

The official language of their space command is English—the only remnant of the fallen American Empire—since all scientists, as well as the military, spoke that common language.

June 1, 2170

The Yuri Gagarin, a Hunter-Killer class interstellar vessel, has been out for approximately four months, sweeping the space between Mars and Jupiter.

The Politburo states its purpose as exploration, but it’s actually searching for space debris that may interfere with interstellar exploration.

The Politburo has mandated that all citizens on and off Earth comply with policies and procedures laid out by their committee. To assure compliance on space operations, Political Commissars are assigned to all military ships, a model followed since their submarine days.

These Commissars are high-ranking officials in the New Red Army (NRA), responsible for teaching communist ideology and propaganda to the military. They also serve as spies, reporting any deviations back to Putingrad. They are easily identified as they carry a little red book titled "Policies and Procedures" around with them at all times.

On the Gagarin, there are crewmen from different New World Order provinces under the command of a Russian captain.

In the cafeteria, four crewmembers are playing Durak, a traditional Russian card game.

Andrzej—a Polish engineer—throws his cards down and speaks loudly, “This is so boring, why are we called explorers? We spend all our time looking for asteroids and derelict shipping containers.”

Raul—a Spanish gunnery specialist—laughs, “Well, at least we get target practice—yes?”

Joselito—a Filipino shuttle pilot—adds, “On a two-year mission to search the empty space—what a waste.”

The Political Commissar appears at the doorway but doesn't come all the way in. “What are you comrades gossiping about? You are well aware that spreading misinformation about our mission or talking badly about our glorious motherland can get you a lifetime stint breaking rocks in a gulag back on Zemlya (Earth).”

The crew all jump to their feet and answer in unison, “Yes, Comrade Commissar, forgive us. We understand and will comply.” It’s the crew’s standard reply to any scolding from the Commissar.

The Commissar sneers, clutching his little red book and clearly enjoying his power. “Next time, there will be re-indoctrination and more severe consequences. Focus on performing your duties in furtherance of our glorious Homeland.”

On the bridge, a Navigation Officer is alerted by a sensor; he interrupts the Captain and the First Officer, who are discussing duty rosters. The Junior Communications Officer follows along but keeps his distance.

“Excuse me, Comrade Captain, sir, the long-range sensors have detected an unknown object about 25,550 km out.”

The Captain orders, “Okay, send out a ping.”

After about a minute, the Nav Officer still awaits a reply to the ping.

The Captain is growing impatient. “Is it pinging back?”

Nav Officer: “No, not yet.”

The Captain: “Is it scanning us?”

Nav Officer: “No, Sir, I don’t detect scans,”

The First Officer: “What is your assessment, Comrade? Is it an asteroid or a comet? Could it be a derelict ship?”

Nav Officer: “I don't believe so; it’s not that big. It shows up as a medium-sized object.”

The Captain: “Is it bigger than a microwave oven?”

Nav Officer: “Excuse my ignorance, Captain. What’s that? I don't understand the reference.”

The Captain:laughs,  “Nothing, just an old saying from the past.”

The Nav Officer continues reporting: “I can say with certainty that it's a little smaller than one of our shuttles. It is just sitting there silently, 200 kilometers out of our sweep zone. I’m surprised the sensors even picked it up. It’s got no discernible beacon.”

The First Officer, a little upset that the Nav Officer did not acknowledge him when he interrupted, cuts in: “Maybe it's a TMA sentinel, like the one rumored to be found on the moon in 2099—like the rumors I heard circulating around Star City. I heard that signal never led to any contact.”

The Nav Officer: “Do you think we’re making first contact now?”

The Captain: “Intriguing but unlikely. But please refrain from causing issues with the Commissar; that particular incident is not officially recognized as anything more than an idle rumor. Anyway, even the walls have ears,” while glancing at the Junior Comms Officer.

The Nav Officer, noticing that the Captain is giving him a sly smile: “Yes, Captain, you are correct.”

Ten more minutes pass, and the Political Commissar has become aware of the commotion on the bridge and appears. 

His face is red as he shouts and waves his little red book, “Captain, why was I not informed of this situation? I need to be alerted immediately when something affects our policies and procedures.”

The Captain: “Please forgive the Junior Communications Officer involved. I’m afraid that we were all caught up in the moment.” His way of letting the Commissar know that he knows who is the ears among the crew. He adds, “Please feel free to observe, but we are in a critical situation.”

The Commissar backs off.

The Captain turns back to the Nav Officer: “Any signs of life?”

The Commissar perks up: ”Why signs of life?”

Nav Officer: “No, Captain, sir, no life signs.”

The Captain: “Well then forget about Close Encounters of the Third Kind.Thank goodness. I haven’t kept up on the protocols.”

The Commissar volunteers: “I have. I have been keeping up with all the protocols.”

The Captain: “Thank you, but I don’t think it's necessary right at this time.”

He asks the Nav Officer: “Now that we're closer, what do our scanners show?”

Nav Officer: “It’s coming in, sir; please give it a minute.”

Nav Officer: “At the very least, we can get an idea on the composition. Interpreting the results, it seems to have some aluminum, glass, rubber, and carbon fiberglass element ”

The Captain: “No humanoid-type organic matter detected?”

The Commissar: “If so, that would indicate a previously live entity. I have a protocol.”

The First Officer: “Unless it’s not carbon-based. That would be unheard of.”

The Captain: “Could it be one of our recent probes or a rescue pod?”

Nav Officer: “No, the material of construction percentages don’t match any known bill of materials for current vessel types.”

The Captain: “Well, now I’m really intrigued. Let’s go take a closer look; prepare a shuttle and let’s do an EVA.”

The Captain addresses the Gagarin’s Archivist: “Comrade, check all the databases and see if we can find any history that might give us a hint.”

The Archivist checks and reports after a few minutes: “Sir, I checked. Nothing in our archives matches that composition. So maybe it’s pre-2070 when the AI suicide bomber set off the Electromagnetic Pulse that wiped out all the data on Earth during the AI wars.”

The Archivist asks: “If I can speak freely, sir?”

The Commissar steps between them but is brushed aside by the Captain.

The Captain: “Yes, this is an abnormal situation. I am open to any opinions right now.”

The Commissar remains silent, and the Archivist continues: “My dedushka ottsa (father’s grandpa) worked at the old Star City. When our family was doing an oral history, he used to tell my dad tales about all the space probes launched beginning in the 1970s. So, it could be an American Voyager or a Pioneer model spacecraft. Or it could be a TMA sentinel; he said the first one was found on the moon in 1999.”

The Commissar again protests: “That is not approved historical narrative; this is not allowed. That is not in the Red Book.”

The Captain turns to the First Officer: “Could we be making radio contact with extraterrestrials? A close encounter of the fifth kind?”

The First Officer: “We’re close enough to take a look.” Squinting at the screen, he shouts, “What the heck is that? Sir, it looks like an old Earth vehicle.”

The Captain: “What type of vehicle?”

The First Officer: “An automobile.”

The Captain: “You gotta be kidding—a car? We need to recover it.”

The Commissar: “No, we need to form a committee and study the protocol.”

The Captain: “There’s a protocol?”

The Commissar: “Yes, for handling extraterrestrial objects recovered from space.”

The Captain: “Sorry, but I think an old Earth car is not extraterrestrial.”

The First Officer: “Should we bring it in? The shuttle can capture it.”

The Captain: “Not yet. Send Engineer Andrzej out to do a space walk and look at it. Not too close; it could be booby-trapped.”

Joselito pilots the shuttle while Andrzei suits up.

The bridge is unusually quiet while the shuttle slowly approaches the object.

Joselito stops about 10 meters from the object. Space walker Andrzei exits and floats over.

Andrzej reports in: “It looks like it was a red color at one time. It’s faded now and it has a coating of space dust. There is lots of surface damage. Dents and nicks from comet tail debris? The rubber tires have deteriorated. Only the rims are left. There’s a broken windscreen.”

The Captain: “Andrzej, you have clearance to take a closer look, but I repeat, be careful.”

Andrzej: “Mój Boże (my God), there is a person in there! The visor is broken—hit by a space rock. Wait, not really a man; it's a mannequin.”

The Nav Officer: “What the heck is going on here? This cannot be happening.”

The Commissar: “Maybe an enemy of the state is trying to confuse us.”

The First Officer: “Maybe somebody put it there to joke with us.”

The Captain laughs: “Yes, a big cosmic joke. Is there any kind of communication device or something to activate a signal?”

Andrzej: “Looks like an old-time radio, but it’s not operational—no power.”

The Archivist: “I didn't mention this before, but a really weird story my father's grandpa told was about a red car that was launched into space from the US in 2018. That was a little hard to believe. We thought he was getting senile on us.”

The Commissar: “Comrade Captain, you are not in compliance with our orders. Furthermore, the Archivist should be sanctioned for spreading these falsehoods.”

The Captain is getting aggravated with the Commissar but doesn't respond.

The space walker reports: “There’s a sign in here. It says, ‘Don’t Panic.’”

The Captain: “KAKORO XPEHA! (WTF)”

Andrzej: “Captain, there is a name tag on this dummy. It says ‘Starman.’ The car has an identification number on a plate attached to the front and back.”

The Archivist: “What is the ID?”

Andrzej: “43205—does it have any significance?”

The Archivist: “Captain, this could be a historic find.”

The Commissar: “Captain, Politburo policy states that if it’s not part of the committee-approved historical narrative, then it doesn’t exist. I recommend that we follow the procedure to blast any debris bigger than a portable replicator into smaller pieces so as not to interfere with navigation.”

The Captain is contemplating having the Commissar thrown out of the airlock.

The Junior Comm Officer comes up behind the Captain and puts a gun to his head.

The Captain: “Vy oba laski. (You are both weasels.)”

The Commissar, waving the Little Red Book in the Captain’s face: “Captain, I find you in gross violation of your duties. I therefore find you guilty of incompetence, dereliction of duty, and mutinous behavior. It is the responsibility of the Political Commissar to assume command until a replacement can be assigned. Before you're confined to quarters, you will give the order per the procedure or you and your family will be sent to a labor camp.”

The Captain had had enough 

“First Officer, take this miscreant to the brig.”

The Commissar motions to the Junior Comms officer who then shoots the Captain in the head. The dead officer crumples to the floor. 

The First Officer shouts, “Oh Captain my Captain!”

The Commissar takes out his sidearm and shoots the First Officer. 

Looking at the 2 officers lying dead on the deck, the rest  of the crew members are in shock. 

The Commissar addresses the stunned crew, “Don’t look at them, look at me. 

I’m the Captain now. I now name the Junior Comms Officer as the new First Officer.”

The new Captain gives his new orders 

“Comrade First Officer, order the shuttle to cease the space walk and ex-fil back to the ship.

He turns to the Nav Officer, “Remove these bodies to the air locks. These traitors to the state do not deserve a proper burial. Archivist, I place you under arrest for crimes against the State.”

The Captain: “Comrade Raul, prepare for target practice.”

The End