by Patricia Stewart | Sep 20, 2010 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
“When are these damn birds going to let us go back to the Shuttle?” demanded Captain Linnaeus.
“We have weapons, Captain, they don’t,” stated Lieutenant Baldwin, the ship’s exobiologist. “Therefore, I suppose that we can leave anytime we want to, provided you don’t mind killing intelligent, extraterrestrial life forms.”
“Dammit, Baldwin, you know I don’t want to do that. Can’t you reason with them?”
“Although their brains are as large as ours, sir, they don’t think the way we do. Their behavior is driven by instinctual fixed action patterns, not rational thought. Over the last million years or so of evolution they’ve become totally dependent on inherent inclination for survival. In other words, their reactions to external stimuli are hard-wired. They can’t be reasoned with. Unfortunately, they see us as a threat. And instinctively, their species has survived only by attacking and destroying threats. It’s a behavior that must run to completion.”
“But they have seen us use our weapons,” argued the captain. “They must know we’re not some indigenous predator that can be easily defeated.”
“You’re probably right, Captain. They must know, intellectually, that they will lose thousands of lives killing the six of us. But it doesn’t matter. They have no choice. I suppose the only reason that they haven’t tried to overwhelm us already is because, instinctively, they must be preparing to increase their population to insure they can make up for the predicted losses.”
“What! Do you mean they are out there laying eggs? And when they have enough in reserve, they will attack?”
“Yes, sir. That’s my assessment.”
“Well, I’m not going to stand here and wait until they are ready to kill us. Then again, I don’t want to kill these creatures either. Give me some options.”
“I have an idea, sir,” stated Ensign Lamarck, who had been listening intently along with the rest of the crew. “If the birds have to kill us because we’re a threat, then we need to become less threatening.”
“What are you suggesting, Ensign?”
“Well, sir, you’re probably not going to like it, but…ah…I think that we should discard our weapons and uniforms and walk real slowly back to the Shuttle.”
The captain’s first instinct was to summarily dismiss the recommendation as ridiculous, but he fought it off. He weighed the idea in his head, and gradually saw the beauty in its simplicity. Slowly, the edges of his lips started to curl upwards. The thought of six battle hardened solders tip toeing back to the Shuttle in their underwear made his grin morph into a hardy laugh. “Okay, Lamarck, we’ll try it your way.” Then, as he started to unbutton his shirt, he added, “I’m warning you all up front, if anyone laughs at my tattoo, you’re going to wish the birds had killed you.”
by Patricia Stewart | Sep 9, 2010 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
After unimaginable losses, The Earth Alliance was still unable to breach the Draconian military installation on Hydrae II. The fortress sat safely within a walled city that was protected by sixteen electrostatic cannons strategically placed around the perimeter. When fired, the cannons projected an attenuated subspace energy wave that caused the electrical bonds between atoms to vibrate out of control; similar in some respects to the way microwaves cause water molecules to vibrate in order to produce heat. When the spectrographic sensors identified the target material, the electrostatic cannons fired a specific frequency wave to break the appropriated atomic bonds, i.e., either metallic, covalent, or ionic, depending on whether the material was a metal, polymer, or ceramic. Once the bonds were broken, the object harmlessly disintegrates into its constituent atoms. Any atoms that might be intrinsically harmful, such as radioactive ones like uranium and plutonium, were repelled by the nucleonic deflector shield. Conventional military tactics appeared useless against the Draconian defenses.
After months of brainstorming, a young chemist proposed an unorthodox solution. Although few senior scientists thought the plan would work, it was eventually approved; mostly because nobody could come up with anything better.
A few weeks later, a 250,000 ton computer controlled space freighter was brought into geosynchronous orbit above the Draconian installation. As dawn approached, the on-board computer fired its massive thrusters to begin the deorbiting sequence. The new flight path caused the ship to drop vertically downward toward the military installation. When the freighter passed the Kármán line, the Draconian spectrographic sensors detected the exterior PICA shielding of the spaceship and the electrostatic cannons began to fire. As the covalent bonds were destroyed, the phenolic impregnated carbon layer instantly spalled away. The spectrograph and cannons continued to rapidly detect, and subsequently attack, the successive layers of the ship. Seconds later, the titanium support structure disintegrated. Then the silicon and oxygen atoms were ripped from the fiberglass insulation. The interior sub-structure, including the aluminum bulkheads, copper wires, steel nuts and bolts, etc., progressively disappeared as their metallic cohesion was lost. Eventually, the cannons reached the cargo holds. Wooden crates filled with solid potassium, coal, and sulfur were all vaporized in quick succession. Finally, the oxygen and hydrogen fuel tanks, the nitrogen purge tanks, a briquette of metallic sodium, and the steel engines were all atomized. In less than a minute, the ship was gone, and the sixteen electrostatic cannons powered down. The Draconians cheered, and mocked the Earthlings once again for their continued impotence.
But slowly, the original momentum of the plummeting ship continued to carry the cloud of dispersing atoms ever downward toward the Draconian fortress. The atomic gasses rolled into the city and through the streets. Finally, when the sodium atoms contacted the morning dew they started an exothermal reaction that caused the oxygenated atmosphere to spontaneously react with the thousands of tons of carbon, potassium, and sulfur that had once been inside the cargo hold. In a tumultuous fireball that could be seen from space, the payload exploded with the force of a nuclear bomb. The churning mushroom cloud turned itself inside out as it swirled upward from the leveled city. This time, there were no Draconians to mock the Earthmen.
by Patricia Stewart | Aug 27, 2010 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
“Captain’s log, 6022.55. We’ve separated from the Command Ship and are descending toward the surface of Piscis Austrini C. The weather over the primary landing site is clear, so we’ll set up the blind as planned on an old lava field, approximately 1000 meters from the migration bottleneck. Per the mission objectives, we’ll observe the mandria herd for two days as they return from the birthing plains. Reconnaissance data from the drones indicate that this herd contains at least one million bison size creatures. We plan to capture a few live specimens to obtain statistical and biological data, including blood and DNA samples, assuming they have them. With a little luck, we should collect enough data on this trip to keep Earth’s Xenobiologists busy for decades.”
“Approaching the landing site,” announced the helmsman. “Touchdown in ten seconds.”
Three massive landing pads extended from the underbelly of the shuttle and locked into position. As they touched the surface, the ship skidded sideways before jarring to an abrupt stop.
“Captain, the penetrometer indicates that we landed on mud, not lava-rock. We’re at Zee minus one meter.”
“Move us to hardpan, Mr. Shikoku,” ordered the captain. “We don’t want to be mucking around in waist deep mud for the next two days.”
After several aborted liftoffs, the helmsman reported, “Sorry, Captain, she won’t budge.”
The captain unbuckled his harness. “Okay,” he said, “let’s pop the hatch and have a look.”
Crewmen Alpeton climbed down the ladder and prodded the ground with his foot. “It’s solid, sir,” he announced as he jumped onto the rocky surface. As he walked around the stub-wing toward the nose of the ship, he suddenly sank into the mud up to his knees. The mud instantly turned solid, trapping his legs. “What the hell! What is this stuff, some kink of cosmic fly paper?”
The ground began to tremble. In the distance, a nearby hill began to undulate. It started to move perceptibly closer. “A spider web would be a more accurate analogy” remarked the science officer. “If I’m interpreting the circumstances correctly, that approaching hill is the silicon-based equivalent of a gigantic Earth-spider. It must be capable of controlling the viscosity of this mud-like substance to trap prey. I estimate that it will reach our position in approximately two minutes.”
“Options?” demanded the captain.
“Our phasers will be ineffective against rock,” replied the science officer. “I recommend that we free the ship by melting through the aluminum landing gear struts. Unfortunately, we’ll have to amputate Mr. Alpeton’s legs above the knees.”
“Unacceptable,” snapped the captain. He quickly set his phaser to self-destruct and threw it as far as he could toward the approaching mound. The moving hill shifted its path and engulfed the whining phaser. Moments later, the size of the mound tripled as the antimatter power-pack detonated. The expanding hill then burst like a water-balloon, showering the area with fist size clumps of mud. The ship shifted slightly as the rock encapsulating the landing gear suddenly returned to the consistency of mud. Freed, Alpeton scrambled up the ladder and through the hatch.
“Preparing to return to the Command Ship,” announced the helmsman as he began manipulating the controls.
“Belay that,” ordered the captain. “We didn’t come to the cosmos to run and hide every time an alien creature says ‘boo.’ In fact, this planet has piqued my curiosity. After we complete this mission, we can spend a few extra days studying this amazing new predator.”
by Patricia Stewart | Aug 19, 2010 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
There were many heroes that day; men and women, drones and gynes. Two evenly matched warships, each led by brilliant military commanders, and crewed by battle hardened soldiers. Fighters swarmed like angry hornets, as antimatter torpedoes and photon cannons unleashed their furry. For eighteen hours, the two massive starships engaged in their mortal bout. But in the end, they had only succeeded in destroying each other, and the two lifeless battlecruisers drifted aimlessly apart. However, amongst the halo of debris and floating bodies, two lone fighters faced each other like old west gunslingers, waiting for the other to draw first.
The human activated his head-com and translator. “Okay, cockroach, prepare to meet your Queen.”
“And you Satan,” was the crackling reply.
But neither adversary fired. What was the point? They were both dead already. Neither fighter could survive without the mothership. If they killed the other, they’d die alone in the cold empty void of interstellar space. Nothing to do but listen to subspace static until your oxygen ran out.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” snapped the earthman. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Are all humans so eager to die?” inquired the drone.
“What? No, of course not. I don’t want to die. I have a wife, and two kids.” He glanced at the holograph to the left of his instrument panel. “I want to see them again. But that isn’t going to happen, is it?”
“No. I suppose not,” was the solemn reply. “I too will not see my family again. Hundreds of my brothers and sisters have died today.”
“Hundreds? Oh, that’s right. I forgot that you’re all related. It must be hard having family die before your eyes. At least I can fight knowing that my family is safe, back on Earth. Listen, this isn’t personal. I’m just a soldier, doing my duty. Hell, I don’t even know why we’re fighting this war. Look, if it means anything, I’m sorry about your family. If it’s okay with you, let’s talk a little while longer. I’m not ready to have it end like this…”
Just then, the alien ship exploded as a missile slammed into its port side. “Wooooeee. Great work, Joe. You had him so distracted, he didn’t see me coming. I think that was the last one, buddy. Looks like we won, eh?”
by Patricia Stewart | Aug 2, 2010 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
The weakening of Earth’s magnetic field was becoming critical. It had been decreasing five percent a decade since the early twenty first century. If the decay could not be reversed, near-lethal doses of charged cosmic radiation would bombard the surface of the Earth without being diverted. Although humans could tolerate the higher radiation levels, it was predicted that the increase in charged particles would kill the bacteria in the soil that create the nutrients that sustain the plant world. Without the base of the food chain, humans would eventually perish too. Therefore, twenty-five nations voted to fund Professor Johnson’s radical idea to jumpstart Earth’s hydromagnetic dynamo.
The “Dynamo Regenerator” was ten kilometers in diameter, and more than three hundred meters tall. During operation, it consumed the entire output of two dozen 60-gigawatt fusion reactors.
“What do you expect will happen when you throw the switch?” asked a reporter from the Global Post.
“It’s quite simple, really,” replied the Chief Engineer. “Earth’s magnetic field is primarily generated by eddies caused by the interaction between the liquid iron-nickel outer core and the lower mantle. Right now, they are rotating at the same rate. That means no eddies. No eddies; no magnetic field. The Dynamo Regenerator sets up a harmonic frequency wave at the boundary layer between the outer core and lower mantle. It’s analogous to a skier on an unstable pack of snow on the side of a steep mountain. We’re simply attempting to start a Hydromagnetic avalanche. If it works, we’ll create a super-eddy, and reestablish Earth’s magnetic field.”
A disembodied voice then announced, “All systems are green. Start the Regenerator, Chief.”
The Dynamo Regenerator was activated. The lights dimmed and a high pitched whine began to build to a crescendo as unimaginable energy pulsed into the bowels of the Earth. The effect was almost instantaneous. The digital magnetometer began to climb from 2 to 10 microteslas in only a few minutes. The reporter asked, “Is that good?”
“So far,” replied the Chief Engineer. “At this latitude, the field needs to stabilize between 30-60 microteslas.” As they watched, the field climbed to 25…50…100…500…and then the meter started flashing 88888. “Oh shit,” moaned the Chief Engineer.
Nervously, the reporter asked “Higher is better, right?”
