Gaia

by MJ Regan

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

- Lord Alfred Tennyson, The Charge of the Light Brigade

[Day 1]

It’s silly, but I always hold my breath when coming out of a jump. We could slam into something as we reentered baryonic space. Not that I would be aware of it. Travelling at 0.25c, we would be instantly vapourised.

“Comm, any traffic?” I barked.

Lieutenant Glyn Pritchett rechecks his readouts. “No sir. Nothing.”

“Navigation, what’s our approach angle?”

“Sixty-four degrees from the orbital plane.”

“Anything in our path?”

“No, sir.”

“Deploy the beacon.”

In the old days, they would plant a flag. Now we deploy a subspace relay beacon telling all and sundry that this system belongs to Britain, and we are prepared to defend it.

“Aye, Captain.”

“How long before we can use the anti-grav drive?” Jeffries, in navigation, holds up five fingers. “Plot a slow deceleration to arrive in ten days.” 

I get on the squawk to Lieutenant Guy Thompson. Thompson leads a platoon of twenty-five Royal Marines—Bootnecks. We have worked together on first-ins. The probes show the planet is covered in vegetation, with no other life forms present. But he likes to be prepared, keeping his men combat-ready even on what they regard as a milk-run. “Lieutenant, go to yellow alert in five hours.”

I check the status reports. Nothing needs my attention. Lieutenant Commander Lara Pauley, my second in command, comes to the bridge. “I’ll be in my quarters. Number One, you have the conn.”

***

Gaia detects something new in their universe. Such occurrences are not unknown. They add it to their map and go back to being Gaia.

***

[Day 2]

We cleared the debris cloud that forms around most planetary systems this morning. After rechecking the course to the target planet, I retire to my cabin for the evening.

The HMSS Beagle is an Explorer class spaceship. Besides my crew of one hundred twenty people and the twenty-five Royal Marines - Bootnecks, there are four hundred and fifty-five civilian researchers and support staff.

I pour myself a scotch when Dr. Rowe calls and asks to come up. Dr. Tuesday Rowe heads the astrophysics department, and if ever a woman reflects that old English rhyme, “Tuesday’s child is full of grace”, it’s her. I ask her to meet me in the Orion Room, a nightclub for civilians and crew on R&R, in an hour. Although fraternization between military personnel is frowned upon, some of the crew have ‘friends’ amongst the civilian members.

I put on my 1BW—dress whites, no medals—and look forward to a pleasant evening.

Tuesday is waiting for me outside the restaurant. She is wearing the slinky black dress that I like, but is carrying her tablet. Mixed signals.

There is always a table available for the captain. The wine list is short. It has been two years since we were on Earth—stocks are running low.

“OK Rowe, why the tablet.”

“We took the usual readings as we passed through the debris cloud.” The corners of her mouth curl down. “And they are all wrong.”

She opens her tablet and shows me the display.

“What am I looking at?“

“The dots are items in the debris field. The colour represents the size.” 

I raise an eyebrow. “They’re nearly all the same colour.”

Tuesday nods and rotates the view. “And, the distances between objects are almost the same on all three axes.” She reaches across the table and puts her hand on my arm. “Jim, I don’t know any way that could occur naturally. We are taking readings as we move away from the field … I’ll have the results for you in the morning.”

***

If Gaia had a word for what happened, it would be ‘surprise’. The ‘something new’ is slowing as it moves towards the Primary. They name the ‘something new’ Gaia-not-Gaia. 

***

[Day 3]

At 0900, Dr. Rowe comes to the bridge. My heart drops, not my usual reaction on seeing her. Her face gives nothing away; the slight nod she gives me speaks volumes. “Lieutenant Thompson to my quarters … Number One, Dr. Rowe—with me.”

Tuesday briefs Thompson and Pauley on what she showed me last evening. “We took more readings overnight and got a wider view. We found larger objects, but they were embedded evenly amongst the smaller ones.” She gives me a fear-filled look. “When we went through the debris field, the grav drive moved a few of the smaller rocks … This morning, they were back to their original position.”

Thompson asks, “Are you saying the rocks know how to arrange themselves?”

“I’m saying I don’t know how this could occur naturally.”

“Thank you, doctor. I will talk to you later.”

Thompson shakes his head. “I don’t want to go to amber alert until we have something more definite.”

“I agree. But keep your squad on their toes until we know what we’re dealing with.”

In the incident room, I meet with the senior officers, the department heads, and the first contact team. They have been supernumerary for the last two years and are excited to be included.

Dr. Rowe outlines her findings. The consensus is we need more information.

[Day 6]

Days four and five pass without incident. Tuesday stays the night, and I’m reluctant to leave her and go to the bridge. The squawk changes that. “Captain to the bridge.”

I give Tuesday a quick kiss, and say, “Get your team together.” This can’t be good. “Computer, amber alert. All research teams to their stations.”

On the bridge, Lieutenant Commander Lara Pauley and Lieutenant Albert Anderson, the navigation officer and third in command, brief me. “At 0435, helm detected an object had left the orbital debris field on a collision course. Lieutenant Anderson called me to the bridge at 0530. I decelerated to avoid impact. At 0540, the rock adjusted its speed.”

I raise my eyebrows.

Pauley continues, “I ordered a course change at 0550. Five minutes later, a second rock left the field. It will collide with us at 1634.”

“Can you put it on the monitor?” I ask.

“Yes, sir.” Anderson put the image on the main monitor. “It just looks like a rock.”

I check the time, 0615, then call Tuesday. “Dr. Rowe, I need to know everything about this object.” I send her the coordinates.

“I’ll have a report ready for you this afternoon.”

“No, you have an hour.”

In a shaky voice she says, “Yes Captain. Our main telescope and remote sensors are facing the wrong direction. You’ll need to rotate the ship forty degrees.” 

The ship rotates on its axis once every twenty-four hours, so the astrophysics department can do a complete scan of the sky. Any change in rotational speed will have things flying off the shelves. “Computer, broadcast to secure for emergency rotation in thirty minutes … Helm, coordinate with Dr. Rowe … Doctor, you have two hours. Bring the report to the incident room.” 

I take a quick shower and shave before strapping in for the rotation. It is going to be a long day. I need to look the part. For the first time, I strap on my sidearm. It is ceremonial and loaded with blanks, but it is one fine noise maker.

I meet with senior officers and the research department heads at 0840. I had asked Lieutenant Thompson to bring two of his largest men to attend the meeting. The department heads come in like a swarm of angry hornets, screaming and demanding to know why I suddenly changed rotation speed. I wait five minutes before firing a single shot—it has the desired effect.

“The ship is now under martial law. Anyone wishing to protest is free to leave by the closest airlock … Sit down, shut up and listen.” I go over what had happened, and Tuesday gives her report, which has little we didn’t already know. The rock is nickel-iron with a mass of 500kg and has no known means of propulsion. At the end of her report, she gives me a slight head cock. She wants to talk.

“Thank you, Dr. Rowe. At 1300 we will do a sharp deceleration. We expect the rock to adjust accordingly. I want to know how long it takes for the rock to react and how it adjusts its speed. At 1400 we will change course. I don’t anticipate the rock changing course. We reconvene here tomorrow at 0900. Dismissed … Dr. Rowe, can you stay for a few minutes?”

I wait until everyone except my officers leave. “Dr. Rowe, what didn’t you tell us?”

“The rock has a biological marker. We detected the same markers on the rocks in the outer debris field.”

 ***

Gaia felt something they had never felt before, fear. Gaia-not-Gaia has not been destroyed and is coming directly towards them.

***

[Day 7]

On the bridge, Lieutenant Anderson comes over to see me. “Helm picked this up. When the rock changed acceleration, the engines compensated for the change in the gravitational field. Similar to the effect of passing close to a planet.”

Someone or something that can manipulate gravity, now, all we need to know is who and how.

I tell navigation to plot a course for a highly elliptical orbit around the target planet, then instruct the Geology team to prepare probes and satellites to be deployed at periapsis. 

***

Gaia-not-Gaia is no longer coming towards them, but will pass by them and leave the universe. Like a flower releasing its seed to the wind, Gaia releases their spores into space.

***

[Day 10]

Days eight and nine yielded little information except that all the planets and space debris have the same biological marker. And the first contact team says there has been no response to their hails.

At 0800, we decelerate to enter a capture orbit. I schedule a meeting of all research team members in the main conference room for 0900. I want all their ideas, not just those filtered through the team heads.

At the meeting, I reviewed the events of the last nine days. “I want ideas, no matter how wild. We are looking for a power source.”

A junior on the Geology Team is trying to catch my eye. I point to her. “Go ahead—”

The team head interrupts, “It’s nothing. She’s just confused.”

I growl, “Interrupt again and you will spend the rest of the mission in the brig … Go ahead, what were you going to say?”

“Captain, it was within the margin of error of our equipment, but during the encounter, there was a change in the planet’s rotational speed. Could the planet be the power source?”

“Shit.” Fergeson, the head of Biological Research, interjects.

“What!”

“Sorry Captain. There has been a steady increase in electrical energy from the planet’s life form spread across the entire planet.”

“Explain.”

“The life form is like a single giant fungus. It would have taken millions of years to spread around the planet. Captain, it seems to be thinking.”

Her face ashen, Tuesday yells, “Captain!”

“Dr. Rowe.”

“Captain. The bio markers. If this life form can expel spores into space, they could have been picked up by a passing comet or asteroid to infect the system.”

“Damn!” My stomach twists into a knot. A life form that can manipulate gravity and is spread across the entire system. I hit my communicator. “Red alert. Helm, take evasive action away from the planet, max acceleration.”

The floor sways as the artificial gravity tries to adjust to the rapid changes. I grab the back of a chair to stop from falling. Sirens are blaring all over the ship. 

The artificial gravity stabilises, and everyone is looking at me like I have gone mad. “Lieutenant Thompson, secure engineering and the bridge … Number One, plot an orbit around the Primary and kill all civilian off-ship communication.”

Addressing the ship, I say, “This is the captain. Space-borne spores may have contaminated the hull. Until we can determine the hull is clean, we will remain in orbit. I have suspended all civilian off-ship communications.”

Thompson joins me, and I address the room. “Professor Fergeson and his team will be in charge of detecting the spores and decontaminating the ship. The rest of you will give him every assistance … This is a research vessel. Go do some research.”

“Lieutenant Thompson, arrange for two-person patrols of the civilian area and report to my quarters at 1400.”

Lieutenant Commander Pauley and Lieutenant Anderson are with me when Thompson arrives. I pour him a Scotch. “Everything in place?” 

He nods. “It could get bad. It won’t take long for them to realise there is no way to decontaminate the outside of the ship.”

I shrug. “Even if we could, we would be recontaminated before we could leave the system.”

Pauley asks, “How long?”

“I’d like to give Fergeson two weeks. I don’t expect trouble from the civilians, but arm the officers.”

[Day 21]

Things have gone pear-shaped: fights break out amongst the civilian personnel, blue green splotches appear on the hull as the fungus spreads, the research teams hole up in their labs feeding data back to Earth, and random gravitational fields appear in front of the ship trying to drag us out of orbit.

At 0900, I address the ship. “Return to quarters. We will leave orbit at 1200 hours.” A euphemism, but how do you speak the unspeakable? I turn to Pauley. “Number One, hold a dress parade at 1130—I’ll inspect the crew … I need you, Anderson, and Thompson in my quarters at 1000.”

I send out my final report with commendations for everyone under my command, then I don my full dress uniform. I don’t expect trouble, but I ask a bootneck to accompany me to Dr. Rowe’s cabin. 

She answers the door wearing her slinky black dress. “I thought you might drop by. I didn’t expect you’d bring company.”

I wince. “A witness … Dr. Tuesday Rowe, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife.”

She laughs. “You took your bloody time. Do I have time to change?”

“Not really.”

She closes the door. “Let’s do this.”

In my cabin, Lieutenant Commander Pauley conducts a quick ceremony, and I open the control panel for the thermonuclear device. The device needs input from three command officers. It takes only a few minutes to seal our fate. 

Defeated by a giant mushroom—the Admiralty will love that.

Tuesday and I get an hour’s private time before we go to inspect the crew. Having her on the reviewing stand is against protocol, but “Rank hath its privileges.”

A video of the parade is streamed to the families back on Earth. Every man jack knows there is only one way we can prevent the contamination from leaving the system and possibly reaching Earth. Nobody moves. I glance at the clock, turn to face the flag, tell the piper to play Going Home, squeeze Tuesday’s hand, and hold my breath.