1. Discovery

On an extra-solar planet recently renamed “Aspira,” Julián Salazar gazed out over the surface of a sparse, arid plane. With gloved hands poised on the hips of a dusky-orange encounter suit, the tall, lithe forty-something human engaged his helmet-mounted camera with a voice command. The lens zoomed in on a point near the horizon. 

“That was the last one, right?” he asked.

The light gray, compact rover to his left answered in a crisp machine voice, not the least unpleasant for being unnaturally calm. 

“Correct, Lieutenant Commander,” said the rover. “Atmosphere generating infrastructure complete for this region. Though, as I am constrained to point out….”

“Don’t be so negative, Rovy-One,” said Julián, “I know there are acres more to go. But this is the first completed section. It feels good to be getting somewhere.”

“We are standing still,” said the rover. “Progress on the first stages of terraforming is months behind schedule. At this rate, I cannot guarantee….”

“No guarantees, ever,” said Julián. “That’s not how it works. We’ll find a way to make the rest of the process more efficient. Come on, let’s check in with the other teams.”

Rovy-One opened its passenger hatch, waited for Julián to climb inside, sealed itself and rolled toward a large domed encampment to the south. By now, Aspira’s yellowish sun had risen through its thin atmosphere to hover directly over them. 

As the rover edged along, Julián peered through its side windows and tried to assess the situation. How likely was it that his team could get the colony back on schedule? It didn’t look good. As the designated project manager, second only to Chief Geologist Kieran Doherty, it was his job to ensure the terraforming project stayed on course. But a series of early accidents had delayed the construction of critical units. 

Partly to blame was the planet’s patchy soil, with a few too many pockets of sand or limestone, which lacked the density to support heavy equipment. Doherty had theorized that much of the terrain had once been the floor of an ocean that had since run dry. But what kind of catastrophe could have caused such a major disruption in the planet’s ecosystem? There were too many unanswered questions.

At times, it was hard not to think that Earth Central had kept this crucial geological data secret, simply to push the terraforming project forward. Was it a matter of gung-ho overconfidence, or had the threat of impending budget cuts made Space Agency officials over eager to prove its worth? Sure, the Agency had established small scientific bases on Gilese b and Kepler 186f in the last few years. But the sad fact was that after an impressive start with colonies on Mars and Titan decades ago, human space colonization had failed to live up to its promoters’ exaggerated expectations.

With hundreds of millions of habitable planets in Earth’s home galaxy, the argument went, there ought to be thousands of candidates for colonization, with or without the need for terraforming. Yet Reality, as Julián didn’t need to be reminded, has a nasty habit of being more complex than promotional slogans. On top of slowdowns, due to the planet’s geological shortcomings, construction teams were also plagued by, of all things, landmines. Here was a planet that showed only rudimentary signs of indigenous life. Yet the landmines suggested that, in the deep past, Aspira had been home to an advanced civilization. 

Hard to process, thought Julián. 

Was it for this that his great grandparents’ generation had fought hard to establish both a true world governing council and the first post-scarcity society in human history? That last step was the only thing that had made the colossal financial investment in deep space exploration possible. Starting with the opening of the first orbital construction facilities by the following generation, progress toward the development of the space folding engine accelerated exponentially. 

The possibilities had seemed limitless, which made Julián’s disappointment that much harder to bear. No wonder the mission’s first real milestone, reached moments earlier, would earn only muted celebration from his team. They were running out of time, and they knew it. Even given the sensible redundancy that Earth Central had woven into every aspect of the project, success was gravely imperiled. Unless, that is, the colony’s resident genius could devise a reliable and safe way to detect and disarm the mines.

Trouble was, Sandra Nuage was only human. Even so, the number of times her startling insights had upended conventional wisdom was positively eerie. 

Have to believe in miracles, thought Julián.

Although no one had been injured, mine explosions had damaged digging equipment, and a sensor array used to scout locations for new construction. And as incidents involving land mines rose, discouragement rose with them. Most of Julián’s team believed it was just a matter of time before the next piece of “equipment” to be lost would be human. 

Ordinary defusing methods were stumped by the mines’ unusual design. What, for example, were these extraterrestrial devices made from? Analysis of the casing from exploded mines had also revealed little about their trigger mechanisms or timers. And they were so volatile that standard robotic tools had already set them off, one time too many. 

But Julián was equally disturbed by the long-range implications of this threat to his mission. Where were the previous inhabitants who had sewn the mines and when would they return to reclaim Aspira?

That’s why as soon as he reentered the large command dome, he went straight for Sandra’s cluttered office. As Julián was astonished to see, stacks of data discs, a server and two large monitors competed for space with three rows of hydroponic trays filled with indigenous plant life. It wasn’t enough, apparently, for her to be a top physicist, with a subspecialty in neurobiology. When Julián asked about the plants, she looked up at him and brushed a strand of dark red hair out of her hazel eyes.

“I needed a hobby,” she explained with a shrug. “And look at these beauties. They manage to thrive in this pathetic excuse for an ecosystem.”

Julián surveyed the tidy array of scraggly plants that she had on display and decided against contesting their beauty.

“Any thoughts about that mine defusing process we talked about?” he asked. 

Sandra shifted her middle-aged frame in her black swivel chair and smoothed out the creases in her regulation mission-blue shirt.

“Thoughts,” said Sandra. “No action. You’ve been at the meetings. We can’t get out ahead of our understanding. Based on what we’ve seen so far, there could be as many as three mines every square meter in some areas. We’re lucky we can at least detect them.”

“Most of the time,” said Julián. “But if we keep losing equipment … our replicator budget is just about maxed out. And if we lose personnel, Central will pull funding and send us home.”

“Right,” said Sandra. “I do have one possible approach. But you have to know that anything we try will carry risks. The mines’ casing is an unfamiliar alloy and mostly impervious to our scanners. That means we can’t be sure what frequency they operate on. We’re working in the dark. Any scanning method we choose could be the one that triggers every mine in the vicinity and cripples the entire expedition.”

“And?” asked Julián.

“I may have to create a stasis field around the area with the highest concentration of mines, then send a couple of dogbots in to test various frequencies,” said Sandra. “That way, if the little buggers go off, they’ll take out the dogbots and nothing else. Not sure that’s feasible. We’ve never stretched a stasis field over three square meters, let alone twenty.”

Julián’s throat tightened.

“Please,” he said, “See what you can do. Otherwise, I’m afraid we’ll have to scrub. And that would be the end of everything. Do you know how long it took to get this mission approved?”

“Enough with the pressure tactics,” said Sandra. “When is a request from you ‘mission creeps’ not an emergency? I hope I can help, but I’m not taking responsibility if we have to come home early.”

Julián bowed his head. 

“Look, I didn’t mean to come on so strong,” he said. 

“Forget it,” said Sandra. “It’s your job. By the way, I had a nice chat with Mateo this morning.”

“Sorry,” said Julián. “I told him to stop bothering you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Sandra. “I can take care of myself. He’s a nice kid and he’s smart. I still can’t believe what he asked me.”

“Oh God….” said Julián.

“Relax, he’s only ten,” said Sandra. “He asked me about exobiology — whether sentient life ever evolved on this planet.”

“It’s his new hobby, it seems,” said Julián. “I told him we have Dr. Meijer for that.” 

“Creepy Dr. Meijer?” asked Sandra. “With the frozen vocal cords and the weepy right eye? Maybe I’m easier to talk to. Anyway, he also wanted to know if we were likely to find artifacts under the surface.”

“Those mines are artifacts enough,” said Julián. “And where did they come from? Doesn’t look like this planet has had a vibrant ecosystem for … what? … ten thousand cycles?”

“Ecological disaster on this scale isn’t likely to be natural,” said Sandra. “Odds are a sentient species had a hand in it. Then they left and it almost seems like they took a quarter of the atmosphere with them.”

“But those freaking mines are the only evidence of sentient life,” said Julián. “No ruins, roads or even bones.”

“You haven’t looked,” said Sandra. “Anyway, if you want a mine-killer, you’d better let me get to it.”

“Right,” said Julián. “Thanks for taking time with my kid.”

There was more he wanted to say about Mateo, but he figured he’d better take the hint. He closed up his encounter suit and went back out on the planet’s surface. On the way to his residence dome, set in an area blessedly free of mines, his thoughts ran back over the topic that had plagued him for months. 

The decision to bring Mateo along had been tough. A bleak, unsettled planet in the middle of nowhere was nobody’s idea of a child’s paradise. But this was a long-term mission that he’d worked toward for ten years before getting the call. With Valeria gone, his choice was to bring the boy along or leave him with his brother’s family and never see his son again. 

But Carlos and Maya fought all the time and … well, this was a chance for Mateo to be on the forefront of something. Or was he just being selfish? 

This is stupid, he thought. I made my decision and that’s that.

Besides, if conditions didn’t improve fast, they’d be back on Earth within a year. At the moment, the odds were against success. What would Mateo think of him, if he came back a failure?

By now, the entryway to his dome was just up ahead and there was his son out in front, digging into the planet’s dry soil with a small shovel. At the sound of his father’s boots crunching down the dome’s gravel path, Mateo looked up fast.

“Hi Papá,” he said. “I finished with the edubot early, so I thought I’d do a little excavation.” 

Even as seen through the visor of Mateo’s encounter suit, the boy’s chubby face and close-cropped sandy blond hair made Julián smile. 

“What are you digging for?” he asked. “Gold? You know those pirate stories aren’t real.”

“Oh, Papá,” said Mateo. “Don’t be a dork. I thought maybe I could find an artifact or something. That would be cool, wouldn’t it?”

“Probably need a bigger shovel,” said his father. “They’re doing a dig in the eastern quadrant. I can take you there tomorrow if you want.”

Mateo looked away. 

“They’re looking for aquifers and stuff,” he said. “I’m looking for civilization. It’s different.”

“Right,” said Julián. “Come here, let me check your suit. I thought we agreed you wouldn’t go out alone.”

“Aw, please,” said Mateo. “The edubot said I had it right. I can’t stay inside so much and you’re never home except at dinner.”

Julián’s heart sank. The boy was feeling it already. On closer inspection, Mateo’s encounter suit was just as it should be, including the lightweight oxygen tanks needed to supplement Aspira’s thinnish atmosphere.

“Tell you what,” he said. “Let’s go digging tomorrow. I can’t do any more work until the next supply drone lands, the day after.”

Mateo’s face lit up, Julián clapped him on the back, and they trudged through the dome’s entrance. In its artificial light, they removed their encounter suits to reveal the father’s drab blue Space Agency uniform and the son’s brown, striped T-shirt and green canvas pants. 

No sooner had Julián stowed their encounter suits than he noticed an unfamiliar object resting on the kitchenette counter. It was a squat, roughly cylindrical object that came to a point about twelve centimeters from its base. Its odd metallic sheen suggested stainless steel but gave the impression of being an unknown alloy. Hands shaking, Julián picked it up and was startled by the faint vibration that seemed to run through it. He turned it upside down to peer into its hollow center.

“Mijo, what’s this?” he called out.

Mateo shuffled into the kitchen’s narrow threshold. 

“I was … was planning to tell you about it,” he said. 

“Is this what you talked to Dr. Nuage about?” asked his father.

“She … oh, crap, she told you,” said Mateo. “Yeah, see, I was digging around out back, and this was pretty close to the surface. It didn’t want to budge, so I pulled on it and it kind of snapped off. I guess I broke it, whatever it is.”

Julián put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. 

“You made a real find,” he said. “This can’t be something my team put down there. But no more of this, OK? Not without supervision. You didn’t get hurt this time. But what if this was … I don’t know … part of an ancient weapon? It might have exploded, no?”

“So I’m right?” asked Mateo. “Sandra said there might have been aliens here once. Can’t we dig up some more … tomorrow, like you said?” 

“Not until I get this checked out,” said Julián. “Then maybe you can help some crew members do a real excavation, you know, so nothing ‘snaps off’ — or explodes, right?”

Mateo looked down at his socks. 

“I guess,” he said. “But this was my excavation and now you’re taking it away.”

He ran off to his room and slammed the door. 

Where’s Valeria when I need her? thought Julián. She was better at this.

“I’ll give you full credit, when I turn this in,” he called through Mateo’s door. “Come on now, what do you want for lunch?”

“Go away!” Mateo’s muffled shout made his father’s stomach clench, as if he’d been hit by a boxer. His head throbbing, Julián grabbed his all-purpose handheld, took a photo of the mysterious object and sent it to Ambroos Meijer’s assistant, with a note.

My son dug this up behind our dome this morning. Alien artifact? Stop by when you can and he’ll show you where he found it. Definitely warrants investigation.

It wasn’t long before his personal comlink chirped. It was Bianca Conti, the staff archaeologist that Meijer depended on most to handle sensitive excavations.

”Tell me you’re kidding,” said a female voice on the other end.

“Can’t, Bianca,” said Julián. “This is real.”

“I believe you,” said Bianca. “The weird part is that we dug up a nearly identical gadget this afternoon. Where’d you find that?”

“Like I said, I didn’t,” said Julián. “This is Mateo’s work. So tell me, did he strike gold?”

By now, Mateo had cracked his bedroom door and was peering out at his father from the threshold.

“Don’t know what it is,” said Bianca. “I’m coming right over, so don’t sell it on the newsnets before I get there.”

Julián closed contact and turned in Mateo’s direction. He heard the boy slam his door shut again. 

“We have company coming,” he said through the door. “So try to be a little social.”

The silence that greeted him stung, but he knew that more words would have no effect on Mateo’s mood. Frustrated, he sat down on one of four narrow kitchenette stools and drummed his fingers into the fiberglass countertop. Soon enough, his eyes drifted to the mysterious object, and he couldn’t stop himself from speculating about its origins. The whirr of an air car in the near distance broke his obsessive spiral. He leapt off his stool and hurried over to the sealed window behind him. 

A few seconds after the red air car landed, Julián saw the hatch open and watched as a graceful woman slipped out onto the planet’s surface, accompanied by a boxy orange robot walking on four shiny black legs. When they reached the dome’s entryway, their holographic images appeared on its inner door. 

“Conti here,” said a crisp female voice. “Brought a dogbot with me. Hope you don’t mind.” 

Julián buzzed them in. As always, Bianca’s penetrating gaze, shiny black hair and slender physique made staying on topic an embarrassing challenge.

“Glad … glad you’re here,” he said. “And who’s this?”

“BWSR 3,” said Bianca. “He answers to Bowser, don’t you?”

The robot’s flat, trapezoidal black head pivoted up on its corkscrew neck to face her. Its voice was surprisingly nasal. 

“Correct,” said the robot. “Awaiting orders.”

“May I?” asked Bianca. 

Julián nodded. 

“Analysis,” she said. “Metallic object on the kitchen counter to your right.”

Bowser’s head pivoted again, and he stomped over to examine Mateo’s “find.” He stood still a moment, then turned back to Bianca. 

“The designation ‘metallic’ is inaccurate,” he said. 

“Elaborate,” said Bianca.

“Child detected in the adjacent room,” said Bowser. “Limit exposure to sensitive data?”

“No,” said Julián. “Mateo, get out here. This is about to get interesting.”

The boy’s door opened just enough to show his face. 

“Continue,” said Bianca.

“Spectrographic analysis reveals that the object was manufactured from a composite of carbon fibers and other artificial materials similar, but not equivalent to those familiar to terrestrial science,” said the robot. “Recommend MRI at minimum to determine….”

“What about radiation,” asked Bianca, “or other emissions?”

“Negative radiation,” said Bowser. “However, the object’s molecular energy signature is highly unusual.”

“Unusual, how?” asked Bianca.

“The object’s irregular substructure is not inconsistent with that of a small subset of high-entropy materials previously studied on Earth. Researchers found no practical use for them.”

“Maybe they should reconsider,” said Bianca.

“Is the object … unstable?” asked Julián.

“The degree of instability is relative, and its effect on living tissue may vary by species,” said Bowser. “It is likely that physical contact with the item by organic life would produce, at minimum, a tingling sensation.”

“Well,” said Julián, “I….”

Mateo burst out of his room. 

“That’s what I felt while I was digging that thing up,” he shouted. “Thought I heard voices, too.”

Julián glanced at his son and smiled. So impetuous!

“We have guests,” he said. “Come in and meet them properly. Mateo found the object on his own.”

“Very adventuresome,” said Bianca. “What made you think there might be artifacts under the surface?”

Mateo shrugged. 

“Dunno … just intuition, I guess,” he said. “But also, when I went out back, I thought I heard something, you know, in the ground.”

Bowser took a four-legged step in his direction. 

“Description required,” he said. “What category of sound did you hear?”

“Woah,” said Mateo. “OK, it was like … a high-pitched whine, maybe? You’ll probably laugh, but it kind of seemed like the sound was asking me to dig there.”

“Conjecture:” said Bowser. “The device may incorporate a micro-transmitter of unknown design. Recommendation: A survey of the area in question.” 

“Slow down,” Bianca. “Let’s go out and listen first.”

Julián nodded at his son and the two of them donned their encounter suits. A few minutes later, they exited the dome’s rear door. Mateo led them to his excavation site, about three meters out and to the left of the dome’s outer edge

“Right here,” he said.

Bianca glanced down at Bowser.

“Picking up anything?” she asked. 

Out of nowhere, the sound of a small motor switching on caught their attention. 

“Like a refrigerator, when you leave the door open,” said Julián. 

“Aw, come on, Papá,” said Mateo, “I only did that once.”

“Your father has a point,” said Bianca.

“No machinery detected,” said Bowser. “However, it appears that an energy source of some kind lies beneath the surface. Further excavation may reveal….”

“Not until we do a proper scan,” said Bianca. “Mateo, I want you to promise me you won’t do any more digging on your own. Whatever’s down there could be dangerous.”

“You think maybe this thing I found is like … the robot said … you know, an alien metal?” asked the boy. 

“That would make it even more dangerous,” said Julián. “It could damage your central nervous system.”

“Come on,” said Bianca, “why scare him like that? The point is, we don’t know anything about this site yet. So stay away, even if it seems like it’s asking you to dig some more.”

“OK,” said Mateo. “Kind of takes the fun out of it, though. Can we go in now?”

“Sure,” said Julián. “You have everything you need, Dr. Conti?

“I’m tempted to leave Bowser here to guard the site,” said Bianca. “But that’s against protocol. Let me check with my team. We’ll probably be back with a deep scanner in the morning, if that’s OK.”

Julián agreed and led the others around to the front of his dome. Mateo watched in awe as Bianca and Bowser climbed back into the air car and lifted off. 

“Think I could have a robot dog someday?” he asked. 

“Sure,” said his father. “All you need is a fifty million credit grant and you’re willing to get him paper trained. Come on, let’s get some dinner.”

The two of them trudged through the dome’s back door. By now, Aspira’s hot sun was sinking beneath the horizon. Another day on a doubtful colony planet was coming to a close. Inside the dome, the clatter of cookware and replicator rumblings conferred an air of normality. Julián wondered if the feeling would last but put on a brave face. An hour or two later, the Salazar family was asleep.

2. Voices 

Three hours into the night of an eventful day, Mateo awoke from disturbing dreams. A persistent, plaintive voice echoed in his head, accompanied by odd, off-center views of … what?… a city? In the dream, he could see the strange urban landscape only out of the corner of his eye. It was utterly different from any city he’d seen on Earth, even in a fantasy video. 

Whenever he looked to the left or the right, the dream city would vanish. It appeared in his peripheral vision only when he tried not to see it. Tall spires punctuated a field of bulbous, pear-shaped buildings, arranged in rows along dark, polished streets. Or were they foliage … or sentient beings, who sat placidly like overfed kittens?

Strangely, when Mateo awoke, these images appeared even more vividly in his mind. It was as if he could walk those streets. The boy shook his head.

“So thirsty,” he croaked. His mouth was as dry as if he’d been buried in sand for hours. Before he could push away his covers, the voice from his dream haunted him again. 

Let us out. Let us out. You must.

Heart pounding, Mateo forced himself out of bed, tiptoed into the kitchen and went straight for the refrigerator. The jug of cold water just inside seemed like a precious jewel, and it wasn’t until he’d gulped down a large tumblerful that he noticed a faint, red glow through the dome’s back window.

He paused and stared, not daring to get too close to the window. But the voice he heard on waking would not let him hang back. Without realizing it, he edged closer until he had a clear view of his earlier excavation site. Now, instead of a mere light, he saw a pulsating translucent veil. And through the veil….

“Somebody’s in there,” Mateo whispered.

He shut his eyes and tried to silence the insistent voice in his head. Maybe if he concentrated really hard on something else it would go away. He forced himself to call up his last few memories of his mother, Valeria, before disease changed her into a shivering mass, contorted by pain. 

There was the last summer, that one sun-drenched day in the park, with a picnic basket and cold sodas that he only drank on special occasions. For a moment or two, this vision blocked out the voice’s eerie, strident pleas. Until, that is, Valeria’s face creased with despair, and she also seemed to say, “Let them out.”

“No!” he whispered.

His eyes popped open, and his gaze rested again on the dome’s back window. By now, the pale light that emanated from his excavation site had grown brighter and took up more of the surrounding terrain.

What if I just took a peek? he wondered.

Eyes still trained on the window, Mateo sidled over to the hall closet and fished around for his encounter suit. His stomach clenched as he pulled it on, zipped it up and attached its two small oxygen tanks. His plan was simple. He’d sneak out, walk up to the site, take a couple of pictures with his visor camera and sneak back in. That would be helping, wouldn’t it?

From the moment he put his hand on the door release, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. He felt the planet’s dry soil crunch under his sealed boots as if it were made of permafrost. His breathing became labored. A corner of his mind struggled to resist the irrational impulse that drove him on, but the voice … the voice … the voice….

He reached the excavation site, knelt down and started digging at the sandy soil with both gloved hands. Before long, he uncovered a narrow pipe of artificial material, sticking up from the small trench he had created. Was it once attached to the artifact he found the previous day? Though still partially buried, the red light it emitted through the sand was easy to see. He dug deeper at the pipe’s periphery, until its pulsing glow was unbearably bright.

 Watch out, little one!

Mateo jumped back just as a large sphere, forty-five meters in diameter, rose from the ground, pulsating in vibrant shades of blue and red. The back door of the Salazar dome burst open, and Julián rushed toward his son. 

“Mijo, what have you done?” he yelled.

The words were barely out of his mouth before the sphere appeared to open along a central seam. It now revealed a vast, futuristic urban landscape, filled with buildings in truly odd configurations, sleek groundcars, light aircraft and busy streets that were alive with pedestrians. 

Mateo, however, recognized this alien cityscape as an exact replica of his recent dream. Soon enough, the voice from his dream echoed out in the thin, dark air. 

Little one, step in. See the stairs at your feet. Walk down and join us!

Julián’s voice rang out behind him.

“Mateo!” he shouted. “Don’t move. You don’t know what that is. Come back to the dome. Come on!”

At first the boy, in a deep daze, didn’t seem to hear his father, until he turned around slowly and stared out as if seeing Julián for the first time. 

“I have to go,” he said. “They need me.”

“No!” said Julián.

“Why?” said Mateo. “You don’t need me. You’re at work all the time. They need me.”

“That’s not….” said his father.

“It’s just like Mamá said,” said Mateo. “You love your work more than your home.”

Frozen with fear up to that point, Julián rushed forward, arms outstretched.

“Mateo, no,” he said.

It was too late. The boy turned, put his right foot on the first of the glowing steps that had appeared only moments ago, and walked down the stairway that should not have been there at all. Before Julián could breathe again, the sphere closed, sank into the ground and faded away. 

Julián fell to his knees. Only his encounter suit’s helmet kept him from tearing at his dark, curly hair.

“Valeria!” he screamed. “Valeria! I did love … I do love you.”

Now the planet’s sun began to peek over the horizon. Eyes streaming, he stumbled to the spot where the once-glowing pipe had gone dark. Dizzy, confused, he whipped around, jogged back to his dome, crashed through the self-sealing door and ripped off his encounter suit. He ran into Mateo’s room and dropped down on the boy’s bed. 

“What have I done?” he whispered into the widening dawn. 

3. Losses

The jarring ring of a door chime broke in on Julián’s fitful sleep. Bianca Conti’s anxious voice blared out through the dome’s comsystem.

“Julián, let me in,” she yelled. “What’s going on over here?”

His head swimming, Julián stumbled to his feet and rushed to the door.

“What is it?” asked Bianca. “The overnight data scans show a surge of energy from this sector.”

Julián’s dry throat reduced his voice to a rasp.

“Go out back,” he said. “I’ll be right there.”

Minutes later, he joined her at Mateo’s fateful excavation site. 

“What happened here?” asked Bianca.

Julián’s choked voice stammered as he recounted what he saw, or thought he saw, in the dark night. 

“He’s just gone,” he said. “A voice called out, from the sphere, I guess, and told him to walk down those stairs and then … and then the whole thing disappeared.”

“It has to be related to that artifact,” said Bianca. “It must have connected to Mateo telepathically, lured him out and then he triggered the sphere you described.”

Julián’s fist clenched. 

“But where is he?” he asked. “Where is my boy now?”

Bianca looked him in the eyes and put her hands on his shoulders. 

“We’ll find him,” she said. “There have to be traces … an energy signature of some kind, still in this area. Now you go back inside and sit tight. Eat something if you can. I’ll get the team out here, ASAP, and we’ll figure this out, OK?”

Julián shook his head.

“You’ll never find him,” he said. “Not until they want you to.”

“Julián, please,” said Bianca. “You have to have faith. Come on, I’ll walk you in.”

She threw an arm around his shoulders and nudged him forward, but it was all she could do to keep him from collapsing. Once she got him inside, she sat him down in the dome’s kitchenette and removed his helmet.

“Breathe,” she said. “And hang tight. You want me to fix you breakfast?”

“Just go get help,” said Julián. “Help my Mateo. Just go.”

Bianca stared at him a moment, then dashed out the dome’s front door. 

“Back real soon,” she called out over her shoulder. 

As Julián watched her leave, Time seemed to segment. Bianca’s movements, toward and through the dome’s front door appeared to him like damaged celluloid film in an ancient projector. He’d seen one of those on a museum trip with five-year-old Mateo, when Valeria was already too sick to go out much. They saw scenes from old San Francisco: passengers getting on and off a trolley car. 

“Are they trapped in there?” Mateo had asked. “Can you pull them out with a …with a rocket?”

His memory went into a dizzying spiral. Images and impressions from years ago and yesterday swirled around his mind until it took his full concentration to recognize the present for what it was. But no sooner did he realize the awful truth than his mind took off again. No wonder he didn’t answer a call from Sandra Nuage until the fifteenth ring.

“There you are,” said Sandra. “We’re leaving now. Whatever you do, stay clear of the excavation site.”

“Have you picked up anything?” asked Julián. “How bad is it?” 

“I’d say the readings are off the scale,” said Sandra, “but we don’t even have a scale to measure this kind of data.”

“Mateo,” his father croaked. 

“We’ll find him, and we’ll get him back,” said Sandra. “I promise.”

The line went dead, and Julián couldn’t escape the envy he felt for his comlink. 

To just shut off, right about now would be perfect, he thought.

But if there were any chance to get his son back, he wanted to hold on.

An hour more of morbid mental rambling and the sound of a large air car approaching snapped his mind back into its familiar channels. But there was nothing familiar about what followed. Julián suited up and jogged out to the air car just as Bianca climbed out of it. 

“I brought our analytics team,” she said, “and Dr. Nuage should be here any minute.”

Within half an hour, the seven-member analytics team that Bianca had mentioned had set up an impressive array of sensors and other equipment less than two meters from Mateo’s excavation site. Julián looked on with awe and not a little terror at the network of scanners they assembled little by little. When the setup was almost complete, the sound of ROVY-One’s treads crunching over Aspira’s sandy soil reached his ears.

The rover rolled to a stop, its hatch opened, and Sandra Nuage stepped out. Julián marveled at how calm she looked. Of course, it wasn’t her young son who’d been swallowed up by an unknown energy field. Julián walked up to her, his self-esteem pleading with him not to beg her for a solution. 

“We’ve mapped out a strategy, based on the overnight sensor data,” she said. “We’re pretty sure we can recreate the conditions that Mateo triggered. But no guarantees.”

“What now?” asked Julián. 

Sandra squeezed his forearm.

“Wish us luck,” she said. “We’ll see if mimicking the sphere’s energy patterns forces it to resurface. After that, I’m afraid we’ll have to improvise.”

Helpless, Julián realized that his only assignment was staying out of the way. As soon as Sandra joined the sensor team, the activity level ratcheted up exponentially. A voice echoing through a bullhorn ordered everyone to stand behind the red line that one operative had spray painted on the ground, a good ten meters behind the newly erected sensor array. 

When they were in place, Sandra gave the order to start transmitting. The energy signature consisted of four discrete, precisely aligned frequencies, each one linked to a different particle. Sandra counted each particle stream off one-by-one as the technicians fired them in succession at Mateo’s excavation site.

“Maintain synchronization,” she called out. “Increase the gain as needed.”

At first, it seemed the experiment had failed. The site remained stubbornly normal until. eventually, flickering images rose up from the soil briefly, only to disappear. In time, the temporary images became larger and took longer to fade away.

Finally, in a flash of reddish light, the sphere rose up again to display the same unearthly street scene that had so tempted Mateo. Once again, the stairs the boy had walked down, eight hours earlier, reappeared with the same glowing intensity. Julián lurched forward, but the rest of the team held him back. 

“I have to see….” he said.

“Don’t,” said Sandra. “I know it’s tempting, but we have no idea how much longer we can sustain this … projection.”

Julián kept straining forward. 

“He’s my son!” he shouted. 

Whether as a coincidence or the result of a direct causal link, Mateo, or his image appeared far back in the sphere and looked as if it were running towards them.

”Papá, Papá,” he called out. “Come on in. It’s great in here. Mamá is here, too.”

Julián broke free of his astonished crew mates and stumbled up to the edge of the projection. 

“This isn’t real,” he called out. “Mamá is gone. We talked about that.”

“She’s here,” said Mateo. “See?” Instantly, a clear image of Valeria, his long dead mother, appeared next to him. “She says you should walk down the steps. Then we can all be together, like before.”

Julián nearly lost his balance at the sight of this replica of his lost wife, as she seemed to stand, dressed in a familiar white gown. It was as if she’d stepped out of their wedding photo the moment before. Her cascading blonde hair was just as he remembered it, even though he knew it couldn’t be. By now, Bianca was standing next to him.

“It has to be an illusion,” she said. “Maybe not Mateo, but surely your wife….”

“A hologram or sentient avatar created from the boy’s memory,” said Sandra as she joined them. “Think, Julián, is this the way you remember her?”

“Too … too young,” said Julián. “Before she … her illness took over. But Mateo will never leave as long as he thinks she’s real.”

“Maybe speak to her,” said Bianca. “Ask her a question Mateo wouldn’t know the answer to.”

Julián gulped. What could he ask that wouldn’t be embarrassing?

“Holá, Valeria, mi amor,” he said. “Do you remember our vacation to the Mars 1 colony before Mateo was born? I’m trying to build an even better colony here.”

The unlikely Valeria inside the sphere waved and flashed a broad smile. 

“Of course,” she said. “It was beautiful there. And so were you, Juliánito!”

Mateo beamed. 

“I never knew you went to Mars 1,” he said. 

“That’s because we didn’t,” said Julián. “She’s not what you think she is!”

“That’s not true!” said Mateo. “Why can’t you come join us?”

Julián’s words stuck in his throat as the sphere began to shrink back into the ground and disappear, leaving Mateo’s voice echoing in Aspira’s thin air. 

“Why can’t you?” it said. “Why?”

Julián turned away, his face pale. He stared at the others, while Bianca’s team tried to reactivate the sphere. A moment later, the lead technician yelled out:

“I think we’ve got it.” 

The sphere re-emerged. But this time, it was filled by the menacing sight of an oversized reptilian face, whose icy voice deepened Julián’s grief.

“How ingenious of you,” it said. “Now, listen to my simple proposal. Free us from this prison and leave immediately. Then we’ll see about returning your child.”

“Unacceptable,” said Julián. “We’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Squatting on a sovereign world is far from ‘nothing,’ ” said the voice. “You have one planetary rotation left before your child is fully integrated into this universe. Any further attempt to contact us will result in the boy’s death.”

At that, the sphere disappeared again. Julián’s fists clenched and he stamped his feet into Aspira’s unforgiving soil. 

“We have to abort this mission,” he said. “We have to. But how can we get those prisoners out?”

“Hold on,” said Sandra. “We don’t even know if the boy in the image is really Mateo.”

“But, I saw him walk into … to the sphere,” said Julián. 

“I’m sure it looked that way,” said Sandra. “But how do you know? Maybe the sphere was a hologram, nothing more.”

Bianca piped up. 

“Wait,” she said. “We have no evidence of that. The sphere might be a manifestation of a different phenomenon we know nothing about. The only thought I have is that the artifact Mateo found was a key switch originally attached to that pipe he uncovered. It must have activated both a comlink and the sphere we saw. Let’s do a proper excavation and see where that pipeline leads.”

As she turned toward her air car to call for an excavation team, a familiar crackling sound echoed across the barren land, followed by the appearance of a purplish smudge, which hovered about a meter in the air. The smudge resolved itself into a holographic image of their aging mission leader, Kieran Doherty. The geologist’s pallor was exaggerated by the holographic projector, which gave him an eerie glow. 

“I have news,” said the image. “Earth Central just received a message about this planet from an … yes, an alien official.”

“They actually heard from an alien life form?” asked Julián.

“I’m just reporting what Admiral Watkins told me,” said Doherty. “We’ve had many false alarms before. You know that. This one might be more plausible, but who can tell? Now hold your comments until I’m done, so I don’t forget anything.”

Julián and the rest of the crew listened in stunned silence, as the aging geologist told them that the planet they knew as “Aspira” was the gateway to a prison. 

“The former inhabitants of Aspira supposedly violated interstellar law, if you can believe that,” said Doherty, “and were exiled to a world in a parallel universe. That sphere you mentioned is a portal and communication hub. It has a transmat function disguised as a descending staircase.”

“Can this official do anything to get Mateo back?” ask Julián.

“Oh my stars,” said Doherty. “Bianca told me about your boy. That’s terrible, but it doesn’t look like we’re in a position to ask for favors,” said Doherty. “We’ll be in real hot water if we don’t pack up soon and get off this world.”

Doherty’s holographic image dissipated. Before Julián could absorb the shock, one of Bianca’s assistants called out from behind the sensor array.

“I hate to break the good mood,” he said. “But it looks like a large spacecraft has entered this solar system. ETA … two hours, tops.”

“Is that good or bad?” asked Bianca. “Do they want to help, or are we about to be punished for violating laws we didn’t know about?”

“Forget them,” said Julián. “The only thing I want to know is how to get my son back. Can we send a team in there to get him out?”

“And what if that portal isn’t two-way?” asked Sandra. “We can’t risk losing them until we know more.” 

To Julián, it had seemed like a simple request but, as often happens, the distance between thought and realization was frustratingly long. As if to remind Julián and his fellow explorers of that, Aspira’s sun began its slow descent toward the horizon. The day was over, and he’d accomplished precisely nothing.

4. Warnings

Sandra’s team set about analyzing the plot of ground where the sphere had appeared. If Mateo hadn’t actually walked into another universe, he might be hidden nearby in a remotely activated cell, coated in light canceling materials. Even if he’d been pulverized by the alien device, some trace of his DNA might be scattered across the few square meters surrounding the hologram’s coordinates on the planet’s surface. 

All the while the human colonists scrambled to assess data from their scans, a dark spot appeared against the planet’s twilight hued clouds. 

“That would be the ship we detected earlier,” said Sandra, once the tech crew had pointed it out. “I doubt it will have any effect, but shouldn’t we arm ourselves before a lander arrives?”

Julián glared at her. 

“The only possible source of information about Mateo,” he said, “and you want to risk antagonizing it with a show of force?”

“Again,” said Bianca, “we know nothing at this point. Caution is reasonable. The only problem is that we have exactly the same number of weapons as when we left Earth Central: zero.”

“Look,” said one of Bianca’s technicians. “I have it on screen. The ship just launched a lander.”

As its descent was alarmingly fast, it wasn’t long before a detailed picture of the alien lander came into view. At nearly fifteen meters long and five meters wide at the rear, its roughly triangular shape bristled with sensors. Riding high on its dark blue, arched back was, by all appearances, a laser turret. It was the kind of ship that human engineers had struggled to design for decades but could never find a practical way to build, let alone launch. 

In spite of himself, Julián whistled as the ship floated silently to the ground less than three meters south of Mateo’s excavation site. A side hatch opened. Out walked a tall reptilian, whose face reminded the humans, improbably, of a male Komodo dragon. He walked upright and was wrapped in a shimmering dark green flight suit that ended in thick-soled boots. Flanking the alien was a pair of silvery, featureless androids, rolling along on light treads. Two pairs of flexible arms jutted from their cylindrical torsos, each adapted to multiple tasks.

The reptilian raised a right hand for the androids to stop and spoke through a handheld cylindrical translator in a stentorian machine voice. 

“Intruders,” he said. “I am Klintakar Oldru, of the Grekolt Confederation. I represent Administrative Sector 129, Enforcement Division. Your illegal occupation of this planet ends today. Prepare to abandon your equipment and return to your world. To ensure you comply, I am authorized to transport you in my vessel. I will meet any attempt to resist with deadly force. Do you understand?”

Face pale, Julián stepped forward. 

“I do not,” he said. “My young son is trapped in your prison. Your prisoners lured him with … I don’t know … some sort of telepathic message. You have to bring him back. The prisoners are your responsibility … Sir.”

Klintakar’s face contorted into a toothy snarl.

“I have to do nothing, at your command,” he said. “However, we are well aware of the child’s unauthorized presence on our prison world and will return him this day. You, however, will be brought up on charges. In our society, parental neglect is a serious matter. Considering your flagrant violation of the law, perhaps your species has even lower moral standards than we assumed.”

Fists clenched, Julián started towards the alien at top speed. The robot to Klintakar’s right fired a small projectile that expanded rapidly to become a tight web of flexible material that held the distraught human in place.

“Such displays of violence only weaken your case before the tribunal,” said the reptilian.

Bianca took a tentative step in the alien’s direction.

“Hey,” she said, “Mr. Oldru, hold on a minute. OK, supposedly, we’re out of line. But we had no idea that you or your government even existed. If this world is off limits, why didn’t you send out a warning beacon?”

“Such a beacon is transmitting even now,” said Klintakar. “Spinning pulsars, are you saying you are so primitive that you cannot detect it?”

“That’s not what we’re saying,” said Sandra. “It’s the truth. If you’re any less primitive than we are, you ought to realize this isn’t our fault.”

“But we also seeded this planet with landmines!” said Klintakar. “Why wasn’t that warning enough?”

The android at Klintakar’s left leaned over to him and said something inaudible. The reptilian nodded. 

“Release the intruder,” he said.

The web surrounding Julián fell apart and lay in pieces at his feet. He stared at it in a daze. 

“Perhaps I have been too hasty,” said the alien. “However, my order stands. You will gather your essential provisions and await transport at the start of the next planetary rotation.”

“And my son?” asked Julián.

“I will release the child to your custody,” said Klintakar, “pending further consultation with my home world. But do not expect to receive leniency if you are found negligent.”

Obviously shaken, Julián turned away. The others watched as the reptilian dispatched his androids to Mateo’s excavation site. The pipe that the boy had uncovered still glowed bright red in the darkening light of early evening. 

One of the androids extended a curiously shaped tool from its left arm and connected it to the pipe. Once again, the sphere shot up. The second robot entered the sphere at the illusory stairway that Mateo had attempted to descend and vanished. After ten anxious minutes, it returned, carrying the boy’s limp body in its arms.

“Your child is unharmed,” said Klintakar. “We have given him a mild sedative to relieve the stress of his passage from another universe. You may think we are too harsh, but as you have seen for yourself, the world we provided for our prisoners has every required amenity.”

“Correction,” said Sandra. “We’ve seen only what you want us to see. Are we supposed to take that on faith?”

The android placed Mateo gently at Julián’s feet as the sphere disappeared again. The reptilian gave a slight bow, returned to his lander with the androids and paused at the hatch entrance. 

“As violators of interstellar law, you have no standing to question me,” said Klintakar. “Until tomorrow at sunrise.” 

The hatch closed and his lander rose effortlessly into the sky. 

5. Lessons

The journey to Earth’s solar system was as uneventful as possible, under the circumstances. When Mateo regained consciousness, he bubbled over with stories about everything he’d seen and heard in the alien prison. Julián winced at descriptions of events he hoped his son hadn’t fully grasped.

For the other 130 members of the failed expedition, it was a time of mixed emotion. Fascination mixed with fear as they looked out from their holding cells within the Grekolt transport. They all realized that the ship was taking them not only to their scientific base on Titan. It was also taking them to a new era of human history. 

Julián did his best to explain this to Mateo.

“Klintakar says he wants to help us,” he said. “So we don’t pick the wrong planet next time.”

“That’s good, isn’t it, Papá?” asked Mateo.

“That depends on what he means by ‘help,’ and how much ‘help’ his world thinks we need.”

“Do we have to listen to him?” asked Mateo. “What if we don’t want help?”

“Then we’ll never go back out to space again,” said his father. “Would you like that?”

“But aren’t we free?” asked the boy. “The edubot said we’re a free people.”

“True,” said Julián, “but right now our freedom is broken. We’ll have to fight to get it back.”

“Mamá always said that fighting is wrong,” said Mateo.

“Well, it depends what you’re fighting for,” said Julián. 

“Like fighting for freedom?” asked Mateo.

“Fighting for freedom is an honor,” said Julián. “But for now, we must wait. Maybe the Grekolt really do want to help us.”

Mateo frowned.

“That’s not what the prisoners told me,” said Mateo. “They said the Gre … Grekolt dried up their ocean and, like, blew up their cities.”

Julián gently ruffled his son’s hair.

“For now, we wait,” he said.

They sat in silence until a pearly white robot with a blue, pulsating strip across the top of its forehead, rolled up to their cell and opened the door.

“Come with me,” it said. “Your training commences now.”

“Training?” asked Julián.

A narrow cylinder popped out of the robot’s torso and jolted Julián with a Taser-like charge.

“Lesson One,” it said. “No questions.”

For a single unintended violation of an unknown interstellar law, humanity soon learned that it would pay dearly. Within days, the Grekolt delivered an ultimatum to every human government office. The message was clear: Submission would be total, and disobedience would not be tolerated. A fleet of drone ships of uncanny speed and agility reinforced their threat in a startling display of violence. 

Precisely targeted assaults limited to specific crops on hectares of farmland across the planet were followed by the abduction by transmat of every world leader into a newly minted crater in the center of the Gobi Desert. Added to that, an aerial energy beam made the aliens’ case rather effectively as it melted the ancient Statue of Liberty to a blue-green puddle of copper and steel with a hint of gold. Unable to mount a meaningful defense, and to minimize suffering, Earth Central capitulated.

But at that particular moment, back on the Grekolt transport, the glare in Mateo’s eyes suggested that resistance to alien oppression was not as far off as his father might have imagined. At the sight of Julián lying prone on the floor of their holding cell, Mateo’s mind was flooded with memory. 

At the prison that Mateo had fallen into, he’d naïvely asked the inmates how they coped with their confinement. The burly reptilian charged with looking after their hostage had knelt down and whispered to him in a raspy voice. 

“Nothing is forever, little one,” he said. “We bide our time.”

^^^

Mark Laporta is the author of five published novels and a book of short stories. His forthcoming novel, Infinity Afterglow, which has already received enthusiastic pre-publication acclaim, will be published by Chickadee Prince Books, the publishing house owned by renowned media entrepreneur Steve Acunto’s CINN Global. 

Image by Kalyee Srithnam.