The
Solar Alliance

Ray McCarthy

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Books by Ray McCarthy

Talents Universe

The Apprentice’s Talent

The Journeyman’s Talent

The Solar Alliance

Starship Chief

The Master’s Talent

The Legal Talent

The Mission’s Talent

Tellus’s Last Talents

Celtic Otherworld

Under the Stone of Destiny

Carrying the Shining Sword

Seeking the Flaming Spear

Hero Genesis

No Silver Lining

Exiles and Rooks

Fairy Godmothers

Conspiracies and Rooks

The Fay Child

Artists and Rooks

Dwarves and Rooks

Goths and Rooks

Jewels and Rooks

Tom Óg and the Firebirds

The Wooing of Marion

The Ending of Marion

The Ensorcelled Maid

Four Kids, one Foxe

Geena and the Prince

Trader’s Isle

The Seven Talismans

The White Fire Stones

The Solar Alliance

Talents Universe 3

Ray McCarthy

As a result of the visit of the alien starship, the Intergal One, Earth has diverted all military, aerospace and technical research budgets into building fusion power stations and starships. Major Governments have avoided the UN by creating the Solar Alliance to manage this.
Earth has now cracked the problem of fusion power and has the secret of how a Jump drive for a starship works. But what does the shadowy New World Order conspiracy want?
Who is controlling the Solar Alliance and will the Valkyries be used to attack Caemoria or kidnap Talents?

All persons are imaginary.

The cover is a photo-montage by Michael Watterson.

Copyright conditions: All Rights Reserved, purchases may be archived securely or converted for personal use to other ebook formats. Uploading or sharing copies is violation of copyright even if the file was obtained without cost.

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Title: The Solar Alliance

Author: Ray McCarthy

Copyright © 2017, 2021 Ray McCarthy, M. Watterson

Cover Copyright © 2017 by M. Watterson

Version 1.40

Smashwords eBook ISBN: 9781370101788

Amazon ASIN: B01MY64DLZ

Also published by Corvids Press

Corvids Press epub ISBN: 9781801021333

Large Print ISBN: 9781801021050

Hardback ISBN: 9781801020985

Large paperback ISBN: 9781801021128

Medium paperback ISBN: 9781801021197

Pocketbook ISBN: 9781801021265

CC Audiobook ISBN: 9781801021562

BISAC: Fiction / Science Fiction / Adventure

Full version about 136,850 words

Disclaimers and Background

All characters and events are fictional

No suggestion is made at all that any real company is involved in a plot or conspiracy. The yacht brokerage and PC company in Belfast are fictitious. The American eKar and ASP companies are fictitious.

The events obviously take place after 1996, but not particularly in the future. You can take it as about to happen next year or as an alternate reality.

Arianespace, CNES, ESA and NASA are real and the EU and the ownership and Arianespace dominance in satellite Launches is much as described. The European Spaceport in South America really is the most important in the world and was initiated by the French in the 1960s. It now has a Russian terminal. There really are perhaps over fifty rocket launch facilities worldwide, though many are disused and some may have been for ICBM use. The Russians have opened the Vostochny Cosmodrome on the 51st parallel north in the Amur Oblast, in the Russian Far East, since this was originally written.

Shannon Industrial Estate, Shannon Airport, Aughanish Aluminium are real as are Limerick and Shannon locations. Antonov and Aeroflot have had involvement at Shannon.

ASEAN is a real organisation, in some ways the Asian equivalent of the European Common Market in the 1970s.

Conspiracies

Most conspiracies are imaginary. Katherine K. Young writes that every real conspiracy has had at least four characteristic features:

Groups, not isolated individuals.

Illegal or sinister aims, not ones that would benefit society as a whole.

Orchestrated acts, not a series of spontaneous and haphazard ones.

Secret planning, not public discussion.

Wagnerian names for Valkyries

Gerhilde (Battle Spear)

Helmwige (War Helmet)

Waltraute (Strong Rule)

Ortlinde (Soft Point)

Siegrune (Secret Victory)

Schwertleiter (Leading Sword)

There other many other names for the Valkyries of Norse and Teutonic legend.

Dedication

For my #3 morsel.

Grateful Thanks to:

Niall Watterson for technical advice on Avon and Zodiac type semi-rigid inflatables. Anganetta for some German. My Beta readers Ciarán, Cait and Daniel.

About the Talents Universe series

The ‘Talents Universe’ series are all stories connected by characters with the mysterious Talent, of which there are seven kinds, or with some involvement of the Caemorian Empire, a world 80,000 light years away from Earth (Tellus) on the other side of the Milky Way. Apart from Jump Drive for the starships and the psychic like Talent, the Science Fiction attempts to be compatible with known science.

Circle College campus, Caemoria.

Mostly involving the activities of the Caemorian Empire, a single planet 80,000 light years from Earth. They are about 5000 years more advanced. Their culture dominates nearly a third of the Milky Way. Anyone developing Talent, always at puberty, must be trained in the Circle College on Caemoria.

Many of the stories involve Maisie Kelly from Ireland. She is the only person from Earth with the special Talent. The time scale is contemporary, and as we didn’t notice any giant starship visiting, it must be an alternate reality? The series was started in 1997 as a contemporary themed First Contact story, though parts were written in 1988.

‘The Apprentice’s Talent’, ‘The Journeyman’s Talent’ and ‘The Master’s Talent’ are a trilogy but work stand-alone; they follow Maisie’s career. ‘The Solar Alliance’ is about parallel events on Earth to the first two books. ‘Starship Chief’ is a prequel and can be read directly after The Apprentice’s Talent though before The Master’s Talent.

https://www.corvidspress.com/

Visit the site to make comments, corrections or visit the blogs. The link, text and QR code are all the same location. Use your phone’s QR scanner if reading on paper or an old ereader with no HTTPS support.

Contents

Part 1: The Beginnings

1: First Contact

2: Arrival

3: The Last Debriefing

4: Jack’s Story

5: Maisie’s Apartment

6: Brown’s Agency

Part 2: The Solar Alliance

7: Shannon, Ireland

8: The Start

9: Gemma

10: Greta

11: Preparations

12: Surveillance

Part 3: The Westphalian Treaty

13: The Swans

14: Alien Arrivals

15: The Dinner Party

16: Meetings

17: The White Queen

18: Red Knights

Part 4: The Red Queen

19: Reboot

20: Planning a Trip

21: Maisie

22: The New CEO

23: Dublin

24: The Convocation

25: Belfast

26: Tewkesbury

27: Plotting

28: Going Home

29: Cleaning Up

30: The Red Queen

31: The Refuge

32: Unwanted

Other Books

The Celtic Otherworld Series

The Talent Universe Series

The Traders Isle Series

Part 1: The Beginnings

About events before the Solar Alliance was formed

1: First Contact

Two years earlier…

“Five, four, three, two, one, ignition… We have lift off,” intoned NASA control.

The thrust of the solid rocket boosters augmented the Shuttle’s own rocket engines slamming the five of them down hard into the couches. It would take less than ten minutes to reach LEO and a speed of about 2800 km per hour. It was really ego to be orbiting higher than the normal 200 km to 350 km, but they would aim for over 500 km. They’d reached an orbit with a perigee of 291 km and apogee of 576 km once before. The aliens had claimed they could dock them at any altitude.

[LEO = Low Earth Orbit]

The SRBs were jettisoned.

[SRB = Solid Rocket Booster]

Ed sighed when the main Shuttle engines finally ceased firing. The shuttle had been hurriedly prepared in less than three months. They had only been sure that there really was an alien starship decelerating toward Earth three and a half months ago!

The main tank detached. They were now all experiencing microgravity, near weightlessness due to orbiting rather than powered flight.

“This is Ed White, shuttle command to control, copy?” The message ended with tone sounding like neep.

“We copy, Ed, your orbit looks good. We also have the alien shuttle craft on tracking, they now call it a freighter Flitter.” NASA’s transmission ended with a beep.

“What’s their ETA?” Neep.

“About 20 hours then maybe a day to match orbit.” Beep.

“Just what they said earlier,” said Bill Jones. “I guess we are better early than late.

The two Americans laughed.

“I don’t think it’s so humorous,” insisted Greta Schott, the German ESA astronaut. “I can’t imagine we have a compatible airlock. EVA isn’t going to be funny.”

“They claim there will be no need for EVA,” said Ana Bogaevskaia, the Russian Cosmonaut from Roscosmos.

“I still find it hard to believe how we can rendezvous with the mother ship, the actual Intergal One starship,” argued John Williams, the Englishman sent by the ESA. “It’s hardly likely to come closer than 10,000 km to Earth. I’ll believe that their Flitter can decelerate enough to be orbiting in a day when I see it!”

“We should be able to lock on to the alien craft with radar, Bill?” suggested Ed.

“NASA is uploading the co-ordinates,” confirmed Bill. “They confirm our TLS and have sent it to the aliens.”

~

The Flitter was enormous. It opened its rear hatch. It appeared to slowly reverse towards them.

“Do not operate any thrusters or rockets,” insisted Horgin, the alien pilot. “We are now on autopilot. We will fire netting when your shuttle is in position. No need to use your spacesuits as we will fill the bay with air similar to your own.”

Gradually they reversed into the enormous, brightly lit cargo hold.

“That’s serious lighting,” remarked John.

“It’s got some UV according to the spectrometer,” explained Ana.

The netting was fired down and then small figures with helmets and very lightweight suits fixed the netting to the floor as the rear hatch closed.

“The pressure is restored,” explained Horgin on the radio.

Earth’s away team had put on their EVA suits assuming no compatible airlock connection and not realising the alien craft could load the shuttle into a pressurised cargo bay. They also had luggage with test gear, food and clothes. They put all that out first on the deck, tethering it to the net. They carried their helmets and closed the shuttle. Small aliens added a fine mesh net to fasten all their luggage to the deck. There was still only microgravity.

“I’m Captain Smol,” said the alien, “move quickly to the couches. Careful on the ladders, we are now starting to accelerate.”

Already Ed could feel the acceleration. The rocket engines seemed to be noisy which was odd. Then he remembered that the pods or engines were at the sides, not the rear, mounted more like an aircraft than a spacecraft. Most of the rear had been the cargo hatch.

“Can you manage in the suits or will we help you take them off?” asked Smol. “We’d like to accelerate at maybe 1.5 to 2 g for some hours if you can cope?”

“I think we will be better out of the suits on the couches,” agreed Ed. “We can cope with 1.5 g upright, and easily 3 g if we are just lying down.” He wondered how long they could sustain that sort of thrust for something this huge, especially after the previous impressive deceleration.

“I will be on the flight deck,” explained Smol. “This is Mikle, a young Lorm woman. Let her know if you have any problems. Questions are best when we are on the starship.”

She sat up on her couch and smiled. This was strangely disconcerting, it seemed so human.

“Tell me if I have memorised you all correctly?” she asked. She pointed at Ed. “You are the dark one, like many Karnds, so you are Edward White, the American captain or team leader.”

“Just call me Ed,” he insisted. “Team leader is the official title.”

“You are Ana Bogaevskaia because you are tall and very pale with pale hair. You are from the Russian Federation and the second in command, like an assistant or deputy?”

“We call it blonde hair,” explained Ana. “We’ve only seen generic sketches in black and white and video in black and white of your starship’s head counsellor.”

“Blonde, I remember now,” she continued, “so this other… Lady, woman, girl or female? You thus are Greta Schott from Germany, the EU, in the ESA. You are a technical expert.”

“All of those are correct in English, depending on the situation,” responded Greta, “however woman is the most appropriate. Your English is quite good considering you surely have not had much more than three months to learn.”

“Thank you. Now I’m stuck and embarrassed,” explained Mikle. “I don’t know which, you both look similar to me.”

“I’m Bill Jones from NASA, an American like Ed. Bill is short for William. I’m also a mission specialist.”

“I’m John Williams from the United Kingdom, which is a collection of islands off the western European coast. I’m English, that’s a country within the United Kingdom. Do you understand that?”

Mikle was silent for a while and stared at Bill, then John. “Yes, I understand, we have different countries and ethnic groups on Muran where I and Captain Wentos come from, or maybe you might call him a senior officer, though we only have a single government. Perhaps government might give the wrong impression.”

There was some announcement in the aliens’ language.

“They announce that we will travel now at 2.5 g for a while,” Mikle translated. “We should lie down and have the belt just for safety if the thrust is cut and we change vector. Can you see how to fasten it? There is no need to have it tight. It will be at the best tension. It is broad and light so to be safe at higher accelerations.”

They all fastened their belts.

“Good, just try and rest,” she urged. “I will put up navigation plots superimposed on the camera feeds. The bright line is the Intergal One starship and its torch drive. Let me know if you are thirsty or need to use the personal waste facility next door. It’s simple to operate and suitable for both sexes and most species. We can cut the thrust to one gee if you need it.”

“Every species has two sexes?” asked Bill.

“Yes,” agreed Mikle, “some say it’s evolutionary pressure and others claim intelligent design.”

Ed was sceptical of the idea of a simple to use space toilet. They had all used their own on the shuttle before the Flitter rendezvoused with them. It was hardly suitable for humans. They all had then added adult nappies. He watched the display, which looked like very large pane of glass. He could see a pair of tracks. It looked like the couches and the panel had two positions. The image was very high quality and high resolution with no frame rate flicker even in peripheral vision, but like all the video feeds it was monochrome. He wondered why they didn’t have a colour screen. Then he realised they should have had an anthropologist or something. Understanding the alien cultures and motivations was surely as important as the science.

* * *

The starship’s Captain, senior officers and Head of Intergal One council met them as they came out of the Flitter docking tunnel. Suddenly the microgravity was gone and weight was rapidly increasing.

“Is there artificial gravity?” asked Ed White.

“Only due to deceleration,” said Captain Juili. “We are increasing thrust to give about 11 m/s² deceleration, later more if you can cope. We cut the drive to make the docking safe and easy, that’s normal. The more deceleration gives our away team more time. Now, we have not much time, I will introduce these people. Mikle has briefed us already. Draknan is the head of the council that decides policy for the Intergal One. I am the most senior crew, employed by the Galactic Council, Captain N’Jakkoris Juili, just call me Juili. We are both Karnds and Caemorian, though I was not born there.” She pointed as she identified each person. “This is Smol, another captain or first officer, you met, he is a Hoti from Decius. Virona is third, our science expert, she is an Akasurip from Glamis. Wentos, he is a Lorm from Muran, like Mikle who you met. Sixth of the officers is Horgin, a communications specialist, he is a Penthnegin from Loth. He has patched your radio links intended for inside the shuttle to NASA. Are they working?”

“Yes, I have NASA on my earpiece and microphone,” agreed Ed. “We all do. NASA say they are getting good video from both cameras. Greta and Bill have them.”

“Later our people can carry one or both so you can all be in shot. We have experienced people.”

“You seem to have a lot of senior officers?” suggested Ana.

“We run a shift system so there is always at least one senior officer on the bridge,” explained Juili. “We must take your gear to the apartment. My people will bring the rest of your baggage and your spacesuits from the Flitter. We have not much time to make an agreement and send our team to Tellus. Janos and Mikle will take you, then bring you to the bridge.”

Ed was amazed how well they had learnt English, though they seemed to frequently pause. The senior officers were all different species. He recalled his briefing. Virona was unmistakeably an Akasurip, having vaguely cat like fur and tail, man sized and carnivore’s teeth. Horgin was the tallest with very short down like hair on the head and slightly glittery skin, a Penthnegin. Wentos was more olive skinned than other Lorms, hairless with a hood, and strange thimble like finger tips without nails, a ridged pattern over the skin, though the other Lorms had ample heads of hair and some had beards. Janos was also pale and not so tall. His arms seemed to split into six long tentacle or claw like fingers without any obvious hands, so a Kelfari. Juili was the most human looking and seemed to be taller than all the other Karnds, though still shorter than an average human, she had dusky skin colouring and bright red hair that looked almost like a plastic wig, it was coarse and very shiny, as was the hair of other Karnds. Smol didn’t actually have wings, but was bird like so likely a Hoti. One each from the Big Six. The Councillor was an old Karnd man, though with long glossy black hair. NASA and the ESA orientation training had warned them that the aliens insisted on the old Latin name for Earth of Tellus and calling them Tellurians on the curious basis that they insisted human be used for all the aliens too and that Earth was too generic.

They all felt heavier before they reached the apartment as the deceleration was now about 20% more than normal Earth Gravity.

The apartment was quite large with its own dining area, kitchen, bathroom and six small bedrooms each with a bed, desk and storage cupboards, large enough for the EVA suits to be stored. It was more like a hotel suite than a cabin. It had previously been decided on Earth they would work as two teams. Mikle and Janos agreed to this and would be their guides. Ed White picked Janos as guide, a male Kelfari. The Kelfari had almost ordinary skin but hairless, also finger like tentacles instead of hands and fingers and almost wolf like faces with flat noses and protruding jaws. His face reminded Greta of childhood tales of werewolves!

Bill Jones and Greta Schott had Mikle, the young female Lorm as guide, obviously the same kind of alien as Captain Wentos, but much darker skinned. In fact her skin had lighter raised veined patterns like a small melon. Mikle was about 5′ 6″ and roughly human shaped. Something though about the Lorm physique reminded Ed of a frog, whereas the Karnds reminded one of fairy tale dwarves crossed with elves. It was the enlarged finger tips without nails and the finger like thumb that made him think frog!

They couldn’t believe that they were on a starship. How did it manage the interstellar distances? Their transmissions had mentioned a Jump drive, which explained nothing.

“It’s more like an office block than I imagined a starship!” exclaimed Ed. “Or a luxury hotel. No windows though.”

“The lighting looks suspiciously like a mix of mercury vapour and tungsten halogen,” said Greta Schott. “Why use halogen? What sort of power generation must they have? Now I understand why we were warned to wear UV filter cream, sun block.”

Janos and Mikle accompanied them to the bridge after travelling on what seemed like a regular lift.

“We have to have a meeting,” explained Juili. “I am waiting for the other people. Janos can explain the bridge.”

Janos started explaining the bridge positions when Virona interrupted, curiously in English as till then various aliens had been communicating in their own language.

“Captain!” cried Virona. “I’m tracking another spacecraft!”

“Where from?” Smol asked.

“China, Russia or the Pacific,” said Virona, “hard to tell exactly which.”

“Horgin, see can you open communications with the Chinese.” Smol ordered. “Janos, call the Russians.” Smol hailed the Americans at NASA.

“We have never have had radio traffic with China yet, but I’ll try.”

Juili looked at the wall viewer; “It seems, Ed, that someone else has launched a spacecraft too, but aren’t talking to us.”

“Uh, Juili,” offered Ed, “there are no other spacecraft ready to reach you. At least not this morning. I presume you have some pretty good defensive systems being so technologically advanced. That plot on your screen could be a missile with a nuclear warhead.”

The Russians and NASA on the radio links both were of the opinion that it was hostile.

Ed was astonished at the sudden action of Juili and Horgin. There was a rapid alien conversation and Juili dashed over to a console desk beside Virona, the slightly cat like humanoid alien.

The PA system burst to life throughout the starship, in Karndic.

“It’s saying, ‘warning, warning, sudden manoeuvres. Fasten all loose objects’,” explained Mikle. The message repeated.

On the bridge the Tellus people sat down bemused by the Alien PA messages and the babble of the crew. The deck shuddered and shuddered again. Juili came over to the Tellus people.

“This has never happened before that I know of. No-one has ever attacked a starship. Flitters maybe. The starship has no weapons of destruction. Offensive or defensive. All we can do is rotate the starship and use our plasma drive. Will the missile resist the ion plasma jet?”

“I would say not,” said John Williams. “I can’t think of anything that would.”

Time seemed to crawl. A large screen showed the starship rotating painfully slowly. The track of the missile came closer.

“We have a connection with the Chinese leadership,” Horgin told Smol, “they blame a breakaway Russian faction.”

“We have more acceleration on axis,” explained Juili, “so even if our plasma exhaust doesn’t reach it and destroy it, the more we get turned the less likely it is able to catch us. It was intersecting our fly pass at the nearest point if we had kept decelerating.

“The Russians claim it’s either the Chinese,” said Janos in English, “or a sea launch.”

Eventually after about 20 minutes the object plot on the navigation screen was replaced by a grey circle.

Virona reported as Juili translated, “Missile destroyed without nuclear detonation.”

Everyone cheered.

“I wouldn’t believe that about the missile being unauthorized,” Ed suggested. “No ordinary ICBM could be used on a target like this. Someone already had something designed for unexpected Alien visitors!”

“We are close to the nearest approach to your world,” explained Smol, “about 10,000 km at the nearest, it curves our vector. It was deliberate to compensate for Jupiter.”

“I will discuss this later,” Juili firmly changed the subject. “This is the main bridge. We have two other similar centres in case of damage.” She turned away from Ed and spoke to John. “Come, we will go to the park. I must leave soon with my team for Tellus, your Earth. The others are now waiting. We use your Latin name in our language.”

“I wonder who these others are,” said John very softly to Ed.

Obviously the alien had sharp hearing. “All will be explained,” insisted Juili.

Meanwhile Smol spoke with Virona and Horgin in Karndic as they left, but Virona quickly followed them into the lift.

The party moved out into the park and sat on a grassy knoll on rugs near a tree. At least it was very like grass and a tree.

“This can’t be sunlight?” said Greta Schott. “This is an enormous space to have inside a starship.” She picked a blade of the grass like plant and examined it.

“I think you call it tungsten halogen and mercury vapour lighting,” said Juili, “perhaps some hundreds of kilowatts, I’m not sure. It’s a pleasant spectrum and provides warmth. The mercury vapour florescent system complements the long life incandescent lamps for the blue, violet and UV part of the spectrum. The Caemorian sun is bluer still, more ultraviolet. Like some of your birds I can see into the Ultraviolet. This is not much more UV than your summer with a clear sky, it’s a compromise light source like on the way stations and other starships. Most of us see more into the Infra Red and Ultraviolet than you Tellurians.”

Ed watched Greta Schott sit beside Juili, on what could best be described as a large woven rug.

“This lady is Master N’Goro Chainai and the gentleman is Master Pedar,” said Juili. “Olef is with them. They are not part of the starship but from Circle College on Caemoria. Virona you have met.”

Ed thought the most alien looking of the group were Virona and Olef. Virona with her mane, black fur all over and large tail. Olef must be nearly 2 m tall. His skin (if he was a he) seemed slightly shiny and looked flaky, almost like as if covered in mica. Bushy eyebrows shaded his eyes. He looked like Horgin, the communications officer on the bridge, though Horgin was taller. Chainai, Pedar and Juili their host seemed most human like, though smaller. In a crowd Juili’s shoulder length shiny red hair with darker tawny skin would attract attention, Chainai with extremely pale skin, long almost white hair and shorter stature, was quite a contrast, her large and very dark brown irises suggested she wasn’t an albino. Pedar also had longer hair than Juili, very dark brown, almost black. His skin was nearly as dark as his own complexion.

Ed watched Juili watching them from under her long dark red lashes. We must look like stringy taller versions of her own species, he mused. It was amazing they smiled and frowned like ordinary humans.

“As you can see your food is from the supplies you brought and gave us,” Juili said.

Janos and Mikle set out the food and drinks.

“We will test it to see if it is good for us also, Greta,” suggested Olef. “I believe you are the biologist. You can see our fields and tanks on board the starship where we grow food. We will compare our food to yours. Chainai and Pedar don’t speak English, but assume they can follow our conversation. Also Chainai’s hair band is a locator gadget, she can’t actually see or hear directly.”

“What kind of size and complement has this starship?” Ed asked.

“You are the American?” said Olef. On Ed nodding he continued. “In your measurements the starship is about eight miles long. This starship is like a miniature world, so though crew complement as we define it is less than 100, the population is nearly 20,000, that’s less than half capacity.”

“So this is a colony starship?” Ed ventured. John and Ana gave him anxious glances.

Chainai frowned and spoke in Karndic to Juili.

Then Juili spoke up, “I must phrase this carefully. I see we are in an area of discussion that worries you. We have only studied your people for less than four of your months. In this time a small number of us have worked, would you say laboured, hard to master English. Much confusion is possible. This starship is a concept you may not have. As I understand you, you ask is this starship transporting people to a destination where they will disembark and found a city or tribe of some kind?”

“Uh, yes, this definitely our question,” answered Ana Bogaevskaia the Russian. “This is a great concern to my Government.”

“So, then listen carefully,” Juili continued, “this starship is itself is sort of a colony permanently in space, an experiment, in your terms. It’s not intended that we disembark or even contact other civilisations, just map them.”

Chainai closed her eyes then said something to Juili.

“Families, workers, crew volunteered for this starship,” continued Juili. “We have peoples mainly from six worlds, but also 200 other sentient races in smaller numbers. We are not here to colonize planets. Originally we planned to make the first trip to another galaxy. If we came back people would disembark on their own worlds. We have for a long time had two stationary cities or space stations about this size in deep space as way stations, the others are smaller. I mean the size of the habitat section, most of the length is the frame supporting the linear accelerator, water tanks and power supplies.”

“But Juili,” asked Ed, “do your peoples colonize?”

“Not at all,” replied Juili, “actually if a world was suitable to colonise in your sense, no-one ethical could as in every case known it already has a civilisation. We need now to finalise the plan. Chainai is concerned there isn’t much time for the search.”

Ed seemed ready to speak again, but Ana Bogaevskaia nudged him in the ribs.

“I am amazed how Earth-like your park is, and how human some of you look,” Ana ventured, changing the subject. “You haven’t been here before?”

All the aliens laughed in a disconcertingly human way.

Olef explained, “We are most unlikely to have been here before, you should know, this is many times further than anyone in our culture has travelled. Our Galactic culture is about the furthest part of the Galaxy from here. Similarities are inexplicable, we have always found more the same and more different than we would expect. Some say it is in the plan of the Great Maker, the Creator, others call it convergent evolution.” Olef looked closely at Greta. “Can you think of any better arrangement for your limbs, head, eyes and mouth? Does not almost every plant have the elements that makes it a plant, though all may differ?”

“Can we talk more specifically?” Ed asked. “Have you a conference room?”

“Is not pleasant and peaceful here for our conference?” Juili asked. “If you are uncomfortable we will move to a new location. Do we need a table or a viewscreen? If so we can go to an office.”

“You mean this is the conference?” Ed asked incredulously.

“Sorry, perhaps this was not plain,” Juili continued. “If you need to rest more we can postpone the conference until later, not for long though as I and my team need to leave shortly. Indeed though I thought you desired to commence at once. We certainly wanted to conclude this immediately.”

“No,” Ed stated emphatically, “we will talk now. It’s just none of this is quite what we expected in aliens.” The warmth and light was obviously artificial, yet as bright and warm as a good summer day. Actually Ed wondered if sunburn was possible if some of these species liked UV light to see by. There was even an occasional breeze. Certainly no-one expected an alien starship to have acres of parkland inside!

“The Security Council has discussed your visit,” Ed looked at Ana and back to Juili. “There was one abstention. The decision is that we should welcome you as visitors. I am sure the Security Council will offer help in making your visit a safe one. Also as you say you won’t be here long. The major powers have also discussed it and agree.”

“I think your nations ignore the UN if it suits,” said Juili. “Our homeworlds often ignore the Galactic Council. If you can assure our safety we will visit. That is our mission. To visit as many worlds as we can, though supposedly in Andromeda. Nevertheless we were diverted for two tasks. One is done. Now we need to talk to someone here to have a chance to complete our other assignment, then back to Caemoria and onward to Andromeda. Chainai will have Virona as an interpreter. If we can, we will give you the design of our Jump drive system and fusion power systems. I do not know if this is possible for you to understand. In exchange you will let us talk to someone and also will have our satellites for weather and communication to Caemoria. Technology is so much harder to give than ideas, also some critical systems rely on what we call Talent. A resource almost non-existent here. Anyway we have now agreed that with ESA, NASA, Roscosmos, EU, Russia, China, USA, EU and the UN.” Juili seemed to be reading a list from a tablet-like device.

Ed couldn’t believe his ears. Despite the hype he was under no illusion. Even reaching the other planets was taxing NASA resources. The manned mission to Mars might never happen. Interstellar travel and terrestrial fusion power, what a dream to come true. What did she mean about talking to someone? Why were the satellites regarded as a cost?

“We will stay here while your team is on Earth,” said Ed, “then each team is a token of the other side’s goodwill as agreed.”

“You are free to visit any part of the starship as long as it’s safe to visit,” said Juili. “Meet anyone and leave when you please. Don’t open or remove anything without permission. Stay as long or as short as you desire, until you must leave to be able to reach home. Or even stay and come to Caemoria or Andromeda. We can’t orbit, well we could, but it might take nearly a year to arrange, we are going too fast. It will take you a long time to get back to Tellus. We have made you strap on boosters that will detach long before re-entry and the freighter Flitter will take you far enough from the starship for safety.”

“We will stay as long as possible,” said Ana, “as agreed before we came. We volunteered to stay for the duration of your visit, while your party visits Earth. Then we will go home, tempting as the offer is to stay.”

“We are the team,” Juili stated. “Apart from Janos and Mikle.”

Juili and Janos took out their Crystals.

“Juili’s team will leave at once,” said Janos, “they have not much time. I’ll start recording. For your own safety can you agree to disassemble nothing, and remove no item from the starship without our authorisation. On our part the landing team will endeavour to follow any rules required by your Council. Can you agree? Each reply separately. If you wish you can replay this recording and consider a decision at your leisure.”

They agreed and Juili with her strange team of four rose and bowed.

“Goodbye,” said Olef.

“Have a good visit,” said Virona.

“I hope you profit,” suggested Juili, “we can’t spend more than a couple of days, but likely there will later be a proper first contact mission. Goodbye.”

Juili and her team hurried away.

“So Bill and Greta will go with Mikle and the rest of us with you Janos?” asked Ed.

“Come, what would you like to see first, if you are rested?” suggested Janos.

“We would like to see what drives the starship normally and the drive system for the jumps,” Ana stated.

“There is little to see,” said Janos. “I am not qualified to explain those systems.”

“Your Captain Juili said we could see anything we wanted!” said Ana. “Also that you were the expert on engines?”

“No, you misunderstand me,” said Janos, “it really is little to see. I will show you. I know how to organise maintenance and the operational limits, not how to design.”

Now satisfied, Ed White, John Williams and Ana Bogaevskaia followed Janos down the walkway to a transit tube entrance.

Bill tried to size up Mikle. He failed. She seemed as inscrutable as a stereotypical Oriental.

“My Tellus friends,” Mikle said in her soft voice, “what would you like to see? Our research labs, farms, schools, hospitals, manufacturing, machine tools, semiconductor fabrication, variety of living habitats, craft workshops, food processing, weaving and spinning mill, EVA robot repair craft, Sync-Sat assembly yards, automated production, bridge and navigation, drive systems, recreation and sport or video production studio? Also many more things we have. You decide. Or come sit in a park side café and try some Molruk or Jhai to drink, maybe even a little beer or wine. Myself, I only drink water or fresh juice. We Lorms are what you call vegans, no animal, fish or dairy. Some will take alcoholic drinks.”

Bill and Greta smiled at each other.

“Ed is going to look at the important stuff,” said Bill. “Why don’t we let Mikle decide.”

“You are like me, Greta,” said Mikle, “you do not have English as first language. But better than me. You have had a long journey and a meeting. Relax, sometimes you might learn more just being social with others. Technology is in books.”

~

Later that evening they all met in the large shared dining hall of their apartment. The two guides had diplomatically declined an invitation to stay, already knowing enough of their charges to realize that the Tellurians would like to be alone to share notes. If desired they could visit later to take them to live entertainment. Lorms didn’t generally eat with non-Lorms anyway, Mikle explained, which somewhat amazed them.

“Don’t forget, don’t bite any of the seeds in the fruit,” she said. “The seeds are poisonous due to cyanide, however they are fine to be swallowed whole.”

The large rectangular table might have comfortably seated the Last Supper, so the five had plenty of space.

Ed as the nominal team leader suggested they eat first. Janos had convinced Bill, a biologist and toxicologist, that the starship food offered was all safe for them to eat, but probably lacking in vitamins and amino acids they normally would need. Indeed they might not have any food on board unsafe to eat. This would not be a problem for just a few days, and they had their supplement tablets anyway.

“I see most of the fruit has been cut in half or into cubes and the seeds removed,” remarked Greta.

They all picked at a variety of hot and cold dishes, some seeming sweet, others savoury, some bland, some spicy. The fruit-like plants tasted, well, of fruit, but not so as you could place it. Some cheesy looking dishes tasted decidedly cheesy. They had been assured though there was no dairy. Dishes with meat or fish were labelled with a beast-like icon or fish-like icon, in case anyone was vegetarian or vegan.

“Is all the Universe boringly the same?” demanded Greta. “You notice that they even share most of our body language! It seems ridiculous.” Greta picked out some seeds from the whole fruit to analyse later.

“You are unfair, Greta,” John insisted. “All of this might remind us of familiar foods, textures and flavour. Partly it is, partly the way we work is that we want to see things the same, but none of this is actually the same.

“Huh!” snorted Greta. Nevertheless Greta ate well.

“We’ll draw straws for the order to tell our tours in.” Ed suggested.

Bill and Greta described their social tour of a school, cafés, offices, apartments, food production areas and recreation rooms.

“I think you two have gone soft on that froggy Alien girl,” Ed asserted.

“She’s nothing like a frog,” protested Greta.

“No such thing!” said Bill. “She is not that kind of a person. Nor is she green. Actually no-one is green. Most of the races are more like from Fantasy than Science Fiction. Those Hoti, like bird-men without wings, the Karnd are like dwarfs but prettier, almost like elves without the pointy ears? The big tall ones, Penthnegin are maybe a little bit like lizard people, though hardly. The Lorm are like wood elves or Dryads. The Akasurip are like um, cat people with cat tails, though most of their fur is like moleskin. I guess the Kelfari are most SF-like with their tentacle-like fingers instead of wrists, hands and fingers.”

Next Ed urged John to tell the full tale of their tour.

“So in summary,” John continued a while later, “we saw a school, a semiconductor foundry, a machine shop and the big yard or factory where they are working on building another pair of these sync-sats that can link star systems. Janos is bringing their kind of electronic notebooks, tablet computers, what they call a Slab, for all of us later tonight. Oh yes, we may get very fatigued because the artificial day is almost thirty hours rather than our normal twenty-four, as well as the higher simulated gravity from deceleration. Janos says he is surprised at our interest in the Slabs and claims many things are much more interesting. They have increased deceleration to more than 1.3 g. Even so it may take us over a month to get back. No Flitter ride. I can’t begin to imagine how the Flitter propulsion can work.”

“It was all most unsatisfactory,” said Ed, “we saw almost nothing of the Ion drive or Jump drive. They claim we saw all that could be easily seen.”

Ana grunted. “Indeed they did get us into our EVA suits and through an air lock onto the main Linear Accelerator maintenance shaft. It is enormous, almost 14 km long.”

“Technically the tour was a disaster,” continued Ed, “we know in outline the power generation capacity, the distribution, the consumption of different systems. The problem is theory and detail. Either they don’t want to tell us, don’t know enough English and our Algebraic notation, don’t know at all, I’m stupid or we are like stone age barbarians trying to learn to program computers. I couldn’t even decide which of these scenarios we are in. Also at critical points they talk about Talent, like it’s always got a capital, something very special.”

“They do seem determined to call Earth, Tellus and us humans, Tellurians,” commented Ana.

“I guess,” said Ed, “that Earth is too generic and can be confused with soil. They also seem to refer to any sentient humanoid generically as a human in English. At least Tellus is our own name, if rarely used.”

2: Arrival

Soon the Flitter was in a trans-polar LEO. Chainai and Pedar concentrated as they passed over Europe.

“We think definitely she is in Rome, Juili,” said Chainai.

Olef called NASA on the radio.

“This is Alien Contact Mission Control,” replied the American. There was a tone pip.

“We had a flight plan for Darmstadt in Germany as we wanted to land in Europe,” said Olef. “We need to land at Roma in Italy instead.”

“Rome?” said the voice. “Your approach vector isn’t suitable for Rome or Darmstadt. You’ll have to land at Vandenberg in USA.” Beep.

“What does he mean, Juili?” said Olef. “We discussed this already with ESA and the UN when we were incoming.”

“Yes, there is a meeting set up at Geneva UNOG,” said Juili, “though I didn’t understand why we could not land in Geneva. We told them we need only 500 m. I think they don’t believe us. Better do what they say, it’s their planet.”

“Flitter one from NASA contact mission control, do you copy?” Beep.

“Yes, we copy,” said Olef. “We will land at Vandenberg.”

“Tracking says you are off, far too fast.” Beep.

“We are powered,” said Olef. “Our pilot will be switching to subsonic flight.”

“Actually it’s the autopilot,” murmured Juili in Karndic.

~

“Confirm to the news media, Harry,” said Charlie in NASA, “that we have them! We are going to host the first ever landing of aliens!”

“Tracking confirm that they are subsonic and can change wing geometry,” said Dick, “the wings are no longer flush with the body.”

Meanwhile there was consternation in Darmstadt. They called UNOG in Geneva.

“I knew it was a mistake letting NASA handle communication!” said Lev Nevarsky. “The Americans have pulled a stunt. Insist that they must go to UNGA, not Washington. Call the starship!”

Back at Vandenberg Dick explained, “Tracking says they are now very much slower, the wing geometry changed again. We have visual. They can extend the wings as well as change the angle!”

Harry watched the big screen and studied the close-up view from the tracking zoom camera. The delta wings were now long and straight. It exposed a vestigial pair of wings at the rear, he thought that if you crossed a Russian Buran shuttle with the prototype Boeing supersonic passenger aircraft (abandoned in favour of the 747) this is what you’d get.

The Flitter landed at Vandenberg base with a lot of noise from the reverse thrust.

“I can’t believe it, Harry,” said Dick. “They used slightly less than 300 m from when the wheels hit the deck! A B737-300 needs 990 to 1790 m of dry runway depending on weight. It was certainly noisier than anything else, way above civilian noise limits. Certainly not a glide landing like a shuttle.”

“I’m sure it’s a true aircraft as well as spacecraft,” said Harry.

~

Captain Juili took the call from acting Captain Smol on the Intergal One starship.

“I could only land where they told me,” said Juili, “though I showed off a bit.”

“They had no authority,” said Smol. “You have to now visit the UNGA in New York. Do not accept any transport from the Americans. Meet them politely and fly the Flitter to New York JFK. Make a short address to the General Assembly and then revert to the original plan, but use up the runway in New York, less noise, they say your noise level would be a problem at JFK.”

They could see a small crowd had gathered. Trucks with satellite link dishes. TV cameras.

They all met the President and made short comments for the news cameras.

After the President was driven off, Joe McQuillen, the special Aide to the President explained the American plan of visiting the White House in Washington and then the UN in New York, transported by the US Military.

“No,” said Captain Juili. “We won’t travel in your aircraft when we have a perfectly good Flitter. We don’t need a special shuttle runway or military airstrip. We want to meet someone in particular and discuss a private proposal that they can accept or reject. Someone another time will come and visit the USA and your capital. We have no time to spare. Our starship is just passing, it’s too fast to orbit.”

“You have to at least visit and address the General Assembly of the UN,” said the Aide. “What we call UNGA.”

“Yes, that at least has been agreed, so why are we here?” said Juili. “That is in New York! We can only make a quick stop there and in Germany and then UNOG in Geneva. We absolutely need to be in Roma!” She was getting exasperated and a headache. “You pointlessly diverted us!”

“Because this runway is large enough for a shuttle.”

“This isn’t one of your shuttles,” said Juili. “It can land on a shorter runway than your commercial jets. Did we not land inside the promised 500 m? That’s why we used your 1950s English name Flitter for it, though it seems to be a fictional craft. Get back on board everyone.”

“Yes, you did, impressive. How do you propose to get it back to your starship without one of our rockets to launch it?” he said.

“The normal way,” she said. “The Flitter has dual mode engines for air or vacuum of space. We don’t need chemical rockets to get back to space. We will demonstrate just how short a distance we can take of in without damaging the runway, much. When we are finished our visit you can track and see how we get to the Intergal One!”

Juili quickly went up the ramp and slammed the hatch close control. “Everyone strapped?” she asked. “They are idiots. We told them how much runway we needed to land or lift.”

“Intergal One Flitter One to Contact Mission control,” Olef called, “are we cleared for take off?”

“Um. I guess so,” someone replied.

Juili resisted the temptation to scorch the runway for an instant, then gave in. The Flitter was airborne in less than 20 seconds.

The people on the runway stood watching the Flitter become a dot and vanish in the distance.

“Well, that was a speedy take off. They could even operate that thing on a carrier,” someone remarked, “assuming there was heat shielded deck. That was a seriously hot take off.”

They could hear the concrete pinging and cracking.

“Better talk to the Secret Service, Port Authority and NYPD then,” said the aide. “We weren’t expecting them to leave just quite so soon!”

New York traffic was chaotic. Neither the US Government or the UN could get a diplomat or Secret Service team to JFK before the aliens landed.

The President sat in General Smith’s Vandenberg base office with his special Aide, Joe McQuillen and his secretary Karen Fuller.

“Joe, is there no-one we can get to meet them and take them to the UNGA?”

“There is a Secret Service team and a pair of Irish UN Diplomats and Irish Minister just arrived at JFK from UNGA. The Irish Minister’s Government jet just took off.”

“Get on to the Secret Service, Port Authority and NYPD, Joe,” said the President. “Those guys can meet the aliens. Make sure they keep the Irish guys. Karen, get the Irish Ambassador, or their Government. I want his guys to welcome the aliens and escort them to the GA. It will go down well, with Ireland being a small theoretically neutral country. They are on pretty good terms with the Russians, the rest of the EU, China, Arabs and Africa as well as us.”

“Yes, President, we don’t want to look stupid a second time,” said General Smith. “Obviously a Flitter isn’t like a shuttle.”

“Politically,” said Joe, “you could hardly pick any nation better suited than the Irish to deal with the aliens.”

* * *

It was very humid. They had been allocated a bay far from the terminals. Now they stood on the apron, bemused.

“Why is no-one here?” said Juili.

However minutes later two unmarked SUVs, a Port Authority Jeep, an NYPD car, and a pair of stretch limos appeared. They screeched to a halt, cutting the sirens on the NYPD and Port Authority vehicles, though the roof lights continued flashing.

Two men in suits got out of the limo. Several men with crew cuts, earpieces and dark glasses got out of one SUV. The older man from the stretch limo came over first and stretched out his hands, palms upwards.

“Welcome to New York, Captain Juili and crew,” said the older man. “I’m Ray and my associate here is Jack Casey.”

3: The Last Debriefing

About two years later…

“You have all met before,” explained Gemma Stewart, “so I won’t bother with introductions. No doubt you are all fed up with retelling your stories. However I now have permission for you to know each others stories. I suspect partially because we are all moving to the new HQ from these temporary offices.”

“Prison compounds,” murmured John Williams.

Gemma fiddled with her laptop and finally got her presentation up on the video projector.

“You’ll have as much freedom as regular employees in Shannon except probably HR will want to hold your passports,” insisted Gemma.

“We aren’t treated like prisoners,” said Bill Jones. “It’s just security, they don’t want the media talking to us.”

“Or us talking to the media?” asked Greta Schott.

“Well, you still can’t talk to the public,” insisted Gemma, “especially you, Jack. I’ll recap indicating what is public and secret. Firstly anything to do with the real reason the Aliens came is secret, anything to do with Mei Zhen Kelly, also known as Maisie Kelly is secret, secondly the fact we have some sort of email with the aliens via sync-sat isn’t to be made public. Anything else is fine. Any questions?”

“Who is Kelly?” said Ed White. “Is she the rumoured abductee?”

“Jack will explain after you five Astronauts tell your story to Jack,” explained Gemma. “If we trust Jack, then we can agree no-one was abducted.”

“I’m a Cosmonaut,” insisted Ana Bogaevskaia. “Greta nearly is. Recap what the public knows.”

Gemma selected the earliest Hubble telescope image of the incoming starship, from over two years earlier.

“Right, this is what you can discuss in public,” explained Gemma, “about two years ago a bright dot appeared at the edge of the Solar System, comparison with previous photographs revealed it was new. Spectroscopic analysis revealed it was helium with a mix of hydrogen and oxygen. The edges appeared to be water as a super heated gas. Then we started to receive a looped transmission, curiously in English and only active when Europe would be receiving it. It was either some sort of hoax or an Alien starship decelerating on a massive plasma torch drive. Measurement of the changing Doppler shift revealed the initial velocity and the deceleration of almost 1.4 g. It seemed it would intersect with Earth’s orbit in about three and a half months, or nearly four since its arrival as the latency was over 12 days. Eventually it was brighter than a full moon.

“From the beginning the Aliens explained they wouldn’t orbit and wanted merely to talk to someone, the details of that must remain secret. The fact of it can’t be denied as Captain Juili said it in public session in the UNGA. They said that later there would be proper first contact, that is mysteriously still in the future. As a gesture of good will they gave us a pair of sync-sats to examine, details on how to make our experimental fusion tokamaks commercially viable and the explanation of how Jump drive works. They picked up our spacecraft in the hold of their freighter Flitter and rendezvoused with the starship designed for intergalactic travel, the Intergal One, in English.

“Our away team, you lot, got a tour of the starship. Meanwhile Jack Casey was with the Aliens from when they landed at JFK till they left from Dublin in the middle of the night with Mei Zhen Kelly a couple of days later. Ed, you were the team leader, so you go first. For Jack’s benefit.”

~

“So it was all most unsatisfactory,” said Ed, “they should have sent anthropologists not astronauts and scientists, also at critical points they talked about Talent, like it’s always something very special.”

“I don’t agree with you Ed,” insisted Ana. She ignored a frown across the table and continued. “I think we just need to be patient. I believe they played straight with us. Though the visit to the starship was a failure technically it gave us a good idea of them as people. Really they have as much real interest in Technology for Technology sake as Tolstoy or Shakespeare would have. If we want it, and won’t burn our own or someone else’s fingers they will help us have it. We did after all get the sync-sats and the technical information to figure out the Jump drive and improve our tokamaks dramatically. They say we will get another visit.”

“We don’t have a starship yet,” pointed out Ed, “so we don’t know if we have made a working jump drive.”

“The tokamak prototypes work,” argued Greta, “very shortly that’s going to make the Solar Alliance a lot of money to pay for the starships.”

“Think of a regular tour bus, or ship,” suggested John. “How many people on board would know the theory? This is mature technology for them so I’d expect people on board to know less about it than we know how our spacecraft is built.”

“Though Janos showed us the power source of a Flitter,” explained Ed. “It seemed far too small a generator than to power more than a small car. What Janos did seemed like magic. Janos was somehow able to make it leak energy slightly. He called it a piece of star stuff. He claimed the starship runs off many larger versions.”

“So their starship and technology is not like Star Trekking,” said John, “no artificial gravity, no transporters, no holodeck, no replicator, no antimatter, no warp drive, no artificial intelligence. But twenty four linear accelerators the length of the starship for ion drive and cute fusion power generators that seem less likely than anything in fiction. Also the Jump drive that inconveniently only works in deep space. Everything else is just big and expensive. A strange thing, for a starship on a maiden voyage, a lot of things didn’t look at all new. Though their electrical age started 7000 years ago, you have to wonder is there a limit to most of science and technology.”

“There is one Star Trekking like thing,” insisted Ana, “most of the aliens didn’t actually know English. I noticed the strange pause before any reply. So I asked. They have plain contacts with a camera and head-up display, throat microphone and in-ear earphones with microphones. They get what we say in Karndic text, then they sub-vocalise a reply. The computer gives them the phrase to say on the head-up display, phonetically in Karndic text. Anyone replying instantaneously has actually learnt English personally.”

“Right, that’s worth remembering when the next visit occurs,” continued Gemma. “You then were told you had to leave the starship, they accelerated a Flitter on an Earth trajectory and then jettisoned your craft with a pair of strapped on boosters that detached automatically. They never told you they were bringing someone from Earth to the starship?”

“No, we had no inkling of that,” agreed Ed.

“Your turn, Jack,” directed Gemma, “from when you met the Aliens at their Flitter parked at JFK airport in New York.”

4: Jack’s Story

I got out of the limo with my colleague Ray, we had just seen off the Irish minister at JFK and got word to meet the aliens. They were standing at the base of the ramp at the side of the enormous Flitter, a cross between an aircraft and spaceship. Not quite as long as regular passenger jet, but a very much broader cabin. The wings were more like a supersonic fighter’s shape. I discovered later that they open for slower and quieter take off, flight and landings.

“Welcome to New York, Captain Juili and crew,” said Ray. “I’m Ray and my associate here is Jack Casey, Jack?”

“We are in the Irish DFA,” I explained, “the Department of Foreign Affairs, part of the Irish Civil Service working as Delegates in the General Assembly for the Irish Mission. Ireland is neutral, so we will take you to the GA, the General Assembly of the UN, and bring you back. Trust me, you don’t want to drive what ever you have in New York traffic. It’s very bad today actually. You’d need money for the toll too.”

I stared at the alien in front, she had long shiny red hair, a shallow bust, dusky olive skin, a finger less on each hand and was less than 5′ tall.

“I am Captain Juili of the Intergal One,” she explained, stepping forward, taking my hand and shaking it. “My associates, Chainai, Virona a female Akasurip, Pedar and Olef a male Penthnegin.”

Pedar and Chainai were quite a bit shorter, he was darker than Juili with long brown nearly black hair. Unlike the three Karnds which I knew a little bit about, the other two were seriously alien looking. Olef was tall, more than 6′, he had skin that glittered as if sprinkled with mica and very little hair on his head, he had thin tufts of hair everywhere. Virona was furred, though more like a mole than a cat, with a tail and she exposed fangs when she smiled. She had nothing to mark her as female.

“What are all these other people and carriers, I mean vehicles?” asked Juili.

“The airport is controlled by the Port Authority,” I explained, “the Police represent New York and the scary looking guys in the unmarked big SUVs are the USA Secret Service that guard all diplomats. You folk count as diplomats. They shadow us anyway as we are diplomats. Show us what you thought you could drive through Manhattan.”

Juili led us to the hold.

“I suppose a kind of an all terrain vehicle?” I suggested. “A bit big for the road, you could nearly drive over the snarled up traffic.”

“Snarled?” asked Olef.

“Too much traffic, so it stops moving.”

“We have read about Ireland,” said Juili, “so we will come with you. We can’t stay long, but we may have to leave suddenly?”

“Ah, you do that by simply not telling anyone and getting a taxi,” I explained. “You know what a taxi is?”

“Yes, so, Pedar,” insisted Juili, “you will have to stay on the Flitter, best anyway not to leave it unattended. Four can fit in an ordinary taxi?

“It’s better to plan to take only three of you,” I suggested.

“Hmm,” said Juili. “Virona, Olef?”

“Chainai says she has to go as she is in charge,” said Olef.

That surprised me as she hadn’t opened her mouth. She didn’t seem to be quite with us, certainly not making eye contact.

Chainai then said something in the alien language to Juili.

“Jack,” said Juili, “Chainai and Virona will come with me. Olef will stay. Virona will, um, translate for Chainai. I’m the senior Captain of the starship but Chainai is in charge of this mission. She will return to Caemoria with a report.”

“Good, we can all go in one limo?” I suggested.

So led by the Port Authority, then the NYPD and sandwiched between the SUVs we left. The other limo turned off to the pick-up point for regular customers.

The Port Authority jeep left us at the exit to the airport.

“It should be only about half an hour?” said Virona. “It’s about 22 km?”

“That might be true somewhere else,” I agreed, “it’s usually closer to 45 minutes, today maybe an hour and a half.”

There was a huge tail back at Interstate 495. One of the Secret Service guys came back. “Nothing in particular is wrong, it’s just bad traffic.”

“Why don’t you guys put on the sirens and flashing blue lights?” demanded our driver.

“Only draw attention to us, it wouldn’t help,” he replied.

Eventually we stopped at the toll. The estimate of an hour and a half was quite good. Only three times hobos tried to wash the windows, but the Secret Service guys chased them.

We got out at the General Assembly building.

“They have called a Special Session so you can address them, Juili.” I explained.

“Does it have to be long?” said Juili. “We have not much time and the person we want is in Europe.”

“You can’t be just wandering around talking to people!” I insisted. I wondered what time constraint there was, as the starship was still decelerating. It must be going very fast if it couldn’t orbit.

“Why not?” said Juili. “We are not a diplomatic mission, that will be later now that we know you are here, this is a rush, we quickly need to talk to someone. Now that we know you are here you can message on the sync-sat and arrange a proper visit. We have a particular task. Our starship is on flyby, not orbit. We don’t want left behind! Actually I have no idea what to say. I think we haven’t thought this out.”

“Oh dear,” I said. “Maybe my CG, I mean Consul General, will have advice. We are meeting him in the lounge.”

The Irish CG met us in a lounge outside the main hall.

“Ray, Jack with Juili, Virona and Chainai I guess,” he said. “I’m Sean Willis, Irish CG. Head of the New York Consulate. I’m not actually part of the UN mission. Neither are you any more Jack, with the Minister gone.”

“I didn’t rank a seat on the government jet,” I said. “I’m supposed to be on a regular flight tomorrow.”

“All change. I need Ray. You are assigned as official UN Observer to these folk here, seeing as they want to travel in their own Flitter. The starship, UN Sec Gen and our government have agreed it. The Superpowers and Security council want someone immediately available, reasonably neutral and experienced. You’ve been to Tehran, Iraq, Argentina and China. So you have some experience. Also I know you have been paying attention and studying all the information about the aliens. You wore my ears off last night!”

“I have no contact,” said Juili. She stared at her Crystal. “I need to verify this from the Flitter with the other starship officers and the starship Council.”

“Say something nice to the GA,” said the Irish CG. “Then take Jack Casey to the Flitter and keep him until you are leaving for the starship. Jack, your bags and a charged European mobile are here at the usual place for you.”

“We can go to Europe?” said Juili.

“Yes, but you’ll have to land at Darmstadt, I have no idea why, then visit the UN in Geneva, Switzerland and give them a more definite itinerary. Right, Ray, you’re with me. Jack, you look after them. Nice to meet you Juili, Virona and Chainai, but unfortunately I have to go.”

I persuaded a Guatemalan and Panamanian to take their argument somewhere else and the four of us sat waiting for a call from the GA.

“Shouldn’t we go in?” said Virona. “We could watch.”

“No, not a good idea.” I said, without explaining why.

I had never done this before. Actually I reflected that no-one had done it before, but it seemed somehow it was now my job. No-one had designed protocols for this, or if they had, it was too secret or abandoned, I’d never heard of any. The aliens fitted no preconceived ideas. Presumably the later official alien mission would be more like normal diplomacy. I introduced the three women to the chairman. Someone had put a plinth at the podium to give more height. Virona stood in front. She certainly looked very alien with the scary teeth, fur and tail.

Chainai and Juili looked suspiciously like short humans or children until you realised the chest hadn’t quite the right curves, the hair was too shiny and one finger less per hand. Juili looked almost Indian with her tawny, olive, dusky skin, something Asian anyway though with an improbable shade of bright shiny red hair. I’d established the shorter Chainai wasn’t an albino Karnd despite her very pale skin and almost white hair held back with a thick Alice band style clip.

Juili stepped up to the podium and amazingly, I thought, scratched the microphone. She was wearing a simple tunic top, leggings or close stretchy pants and soft flat ankle boots. Quite unremarkable casual clothes that wouldn’t have warranted a second glance on a human. In contrast the other two had almost mediaeval style layered dresses, robes, stoles and cloaks, ankle length and a little complicated. They all had a belt with a large pouch and a shoulder bag. Chainai wore earth browns with a tasselled cap and Virona in mainly orange with some brown tones and no cap or hat. I’d noticed that the outfits used quite different cloth. The furred alien didn’t seem to be too hot.

“Good afternoon nations and peoples of Tellus, err, Earth,” said Juili. “I give you best wishes from our Galactic Council on the other side of the galaxy, our shared Milky Way. I have only been learning the English for just under four months, so I may stumble it a little. I’m sorry that we are not better prepared and staying longer, we are on a first mission to visit Andromeda in our city starship. We wish to talk to someone, meet her, and leave. Some other starship will send people to visit longer in the future. A proper first contact. You will later use the sync-sat to communicate. They use fusion power and variation of the Jump drive technology. They can only be used in deep space, but we have put a pair in orbit here so you can examine them, or at least they will orbit eventually.

“With your permission we have initiated Low Earth Orbit satellites which will send you weather mapping and provide global mobile coverage as well easier connections to the sync-sat, eventually, so you can use a portable device instead of a big earth station to email the Galactic Council and other contacts. We are already exchanging very much digitised data you can spend years studying, including the designs of the sync-sat. Thank you also for loaning us Jack Casey as a guide for our visit to Europe. I trust you find solutions in this worthy institution to all your conflicts. Thank you and goodbye.”

There was a pause while people digested the speech, either directly or translations on earphones. The cameras had broadcast the speech live via a short delay, which many thought very risky even so. Many countries would only see recordings later, if at all, after local Governments reviewed the content. They filed out to a belated rapturous applause. A gift of fusion power and Jump drive! I learnt later we have no hope of replicating the sync-sats or the compact fusion sources the aliens call orbs.

“A taxi now, Jack!” said Juili.

I picked up my bags and we got a taxi to JFK Airport. It only took an hour this time. At the hanger there was an ominous SUV from the US Secret Service. A tall man with square jaw and crew cut got out as did a pair of nondescript guys that had ordinary clothes and hair.

“This is Chuck Miller and Mallory Wosnak,” he said, “check it out with your buddies, Captain Juili. They have permission to travel with you and Jack Casey to Darmstadt and see the Flitter performance.”

Juili opened the hatch and ushered in Jack, Chainai and Virona. On the flight deck she opened a radio link to the starship.

“So these guys are scientists and we have agreed to carry them?” said Juili. “It’s a real problem that we have no reliable portable link yet to discuss these things. Likely the Crystal net will only be operational when we have left.”

Olef ushered Chuck Miller and Mallory Wosnak on board and they were introduced to Juili, Virona, Chainai, and Pedar. They didn’t strike me as scientists. No camera, notebooks, instruments. They also looked younger and fitter than I imagined experienced scientists would be.

~

“You didn’t think Chuck and Mallory were scientists,” interrupted Gemma, “what did you think?”

“I thought they wanted final confirmation that the aliens were alien,” said Jack, “after all everything else might have been smoke and mirrors somehow. I think they were only there to get a blood sample from Virona.”

~

Over the Atlantic at Mach 2.5, Chuck was allowed on the flight deck and Mallory tried a molruk in the lounge. He pretended to trip and scratched Virona badly with his ring.

“Sorry, Virona,” said Chuck Miller.

“It’s not important,” said Virona. She gave Chuck a very piercing look and smiled with her very carnivorous looking teeth, that made him shiver.

“So how fast does this go?”

“Not much faster in atmosphere for long flights even with the wings minimised like this due to heating effects,” explained Virona.

“We are on autopilot now?” he said.

“Yes,” said Juili, “you can just put in co-ordinates and the whole flight can be automatic including take off and landing.”

“So how does it manage space and atmosphere?” said Chuck.

I stared, why couldn’t I see the scratch on Virona’s hand now? The fur was very short and sparse there. I was sure I’d seen blood.

“I’m not an engineer,” said Juili. “but in atmosphere it superheats inlet air, can even convert it to plasma for extra thrust at take off. In space the inlet is closed and water is converted to oxygen and hydrogen, then burnt. So the two engine pods can work a little like your aircraft engines or rocket engines.”

I’m not an engineer or a scientist either, however I was sure that the energy to turn water into oxygen and hydrogen in the quantity a rocket used was huge. Chuck seemed more interested in the aliens and the appearance of the flight deck than any proper scientific questions, so I thought about it.

“Juili, you didn’t refuel at Vandenberg or JFK,” I said, “so how is the craft powered?”

“It’s a fusion source,” said Juili. “I will show you. We will need some water as reaction mass before we go to space again.”

She led me and Chuck to the Engineering section. It was a small room mostly taken up by a square column in the centre.

“The fusion source is in the pillar,” she explained.

I suspected however that she wasn’t really trying to explain. I was pretty sure the fusion source as they called it was barely twice the size of a broom closet and certainly couldn’t contain any normal fusion reactor, in fact any normal fusion reactor would be very many times larger than the entire Flitter. Certainly though no other energy source could be feasible. Obviously it’s similar to what was found in the sync-sat later.

Soon we landed at Darmstadt. Another row as yet again the Authorities wanted the aliens to leave the Flitter and be taken to Geneva. Juili was so cross this time that she took off on manual at maximum thrust leaving four smoking lines on the runway.

“That was a rather abrupt take off,” I said. “A bit rough.”

“Stupidity!” said Juili.

Though it wasn’t clear if she meant her take off or the officials. At least Chuck and Mallory are gone, I thought.

Chainai, Virona, Juili, Pedar and Olef had an excited discussion in their own language.

“Jack, the person we want is probably in Rome,” said Juili. “Please help us get away from here.”

Shortly we landed at Geneva and travelling by car to the UNOG, at the Palais des Nations. At least in the early evening, between meetings, the walk in Ariana Park was pleasant, except they were anxious to get to Rome.

We had to endure some meetings chaired by a Russian. There was considerable analysis and consternation of the fact that the aliens only wanted to meet someone – unspecified – and leave. Though everyone was excited that they would be leaving two messaging satellites – the sync-sats – containing examples of the alien’s fusion power source and jump technology. The aliens on the starship were already taking to scientists and explaining some mathematics and physics about fusion that would make a huge difference to Tokamak development, saving maybe twenty or fifty years of hit and miss experimentation.

~

Late that night we went back to the Flitter. I was bemused to be sharing a cabin with Olef, however he didn’t snore, nor did he smell. The aliens had point blank refused to stay overnight away from the Flitter. The UN had not wanted them unsupervised in the Flitter, though I found that my mobile had no signal at all inside. In the morning we landed at Rome. We managed to get the Italians to agree to them landing at the small Urbe airport inside the greater ring road rather than Ciampino.

Someone in Geneva or Urbe had talked to the media because we were mobbed by reporters at the hotel they rented rooms in as a daytime base. Or perhaps someone simply spotted the Flitter.

The aliens seemed curiously aimless after having rushed to get to Rome.

“What’s the problem, Juili?” I asked. “This is where you wanted to be?”

“Chainai and Virona know she is near,” said Juili, “but we don’t yet know exactly where. We are a little confused by her.”

I thought this seemed very odd indeed. Why come 80,000 light years distance to talk to a particular woman, and not know exactly who she is or her exact address? Neither Juili, Olef or Virona would explain. They said it was Chainai’s policy to explain to me once they met the woman. I’d realised by this stage that Chainai was blind and deaf. Pedar used the computer to translate, as he’d not learnt any English. She used a gadget that looked like a fat hair band to navigate. Somehow Virona and Olef communicated with her as Juili would address any question for Chainai to either of them. Olef seemed to have better English than the others. I discovered later it was because he’d nothing else to do, other than learn English. Juili and Virona had only learned English in their spare time.

Juili decided that if we gave a press conference the reporters might be persuaded to give them peace. They couldn’t function surrounded by crowds. The six of us sat behind a table. I sat apart. The room was packed with video cameras and reporters. Juili had misgivings but agreed.

“We can ask any questions?” The CNN man asked.

“Yes!” Olef confirmed. “We will answer if we can and you must be orderly. One at a time. You over there first.”

“Giovanni Ricardo, RAI News. Does all of your team speak English?”

Juili beckoned to Virona.

“I am Virona. I am an Akasurip from Glamis. We are not a talkative species. Not all the team speak English. I speak two other languages. None of us have learnt any other Tellus language. Pedar and Chainai do not speak English.”

However the press conference was a disaster as the questions were mostly nonsensical (to the mission team) and the ones they understood either they didn’t want to answer or no-one understood the answer.

“The conference is over now,” insisted Juili after a particularly idiotic question.

We left the hall. Chainai spoke in the alien language.

“She wants to walk, Jack,” said Juili. “The girl we want is near.”

“Yes, I sense her too,” agreed Virona.

At this stage, if the aliens hadn’t been aliens that had arrived by starship, I’d have concluded that they were nuts, certainly they seemed a bit clueless.

We slipped out of the service entrance of the hotel. As usual Chainai took the lead. At the end of the lane they came into the main street. We had hardly walked a block when a volley of shots rang out. I noticed three men across the street produce guns and return fire. Virona pulled Olef down. The shooting stopped.

“Ahiee!” Virona screamed.

Chainai was lying at the edge of the pavement in a quickly spreading pool of blood. Quickly Virona tore strips from her dress and plugged Chainai’s wounds. She was at least still breathing. She had been hit twice. Once in the arm and once in the upper abdomen or lower chest. Virona carefully rolled her over and plugged the much larger exit wounds with more strips of cloth. Then she tied tight bandages around by tearing Chainai’s robe. Virona closed her eyes and put her hands on Chainai near the wound. The shopkeeper had called an ambulance. Two of the men who had returned fire were talking on mobile phones. A Police car and an ambulance pulled up shortly after. Somehow I ended up with Virona in the ambulance.

“We must go to the Flitter at the airport,” Virona ordered. “She needs her own type of blood. I am a trained doctor. The Flitter has the extensive facilities we need to try and save her.”

Soon the screaming ambulance was at the Flitter ramp.

“No time!” Virona cried. “Bring her Jack! Just carry her!”

However the ambulance crew brought her to the sick bay, and seeing that Virona did have blood already and equipment, they let me chase them out. The hatch closed. Virona had started a transfusion as I came back. Quickly she put up a scan on the wall screen.

“The shots have missed anything vital,” Virona exclaimed, “thank the maker! See here a cracked rib. The shot just grazed her heart. Why are you just standing? Put clamps on the arm wound and I will finish here. I think we are just in time, but Chainai has lost a lot of blood.”

Virona clamped the edges of the rear exit wound and set Chainai down and did the same on the front. I ineptly copied her on the arm. I was boggled that Chainai appeared to have a pouch like a marsupial on her chest. That explained why the shape of the chest seemed strange.

For a while Virona stooped with her eyes closed and touching Chainai.

“What are you doing?” I said at last.

“Healing,” said Virona, “part of my Talent, don’t interrupt.”

Suddenly she opened her eyes and drew back.

“I must call others,” explained Virona. She changed to Karndic speech.

I heard a response.

There was a chime. Virona opened the hatch. It was Pedar, Olef, and Juili.

“Pedar?” she smiled at him and spoke in their own language.

He seemed emotional in his response and went in to Chainai.

“Now all we can do is wait, Jack,” said Virona. “Come to the lounge.”

After Virona re-checked that she was properly connected to the drips and monitors we left for the lounge leaving Pedar alone with Chainai.

Juili took off after Olef got clearance.

“I still can not believe this has happened,” said Virona. “I have seen violence on your video, you call TV, on the news and stories. But this is the first time I have experienced it, Jack Casey. We will now have a drink of some Molruk and try to relax. You may like it, it is a little like coffee.”

I thought it wasn’t much like coffee, apart from being nearly black, opaque and very slightly bitter. If anything it was nicer than black coffee.

Shortly we went back to the small medical bay to check Chainai.

“Virona?” I asked. “What is happening! Look at the wounds, they are gone!”

Virona removed all the clamps and helped the now waking Chainai into a fresh tunic.

“She is healing normally,” said Virona. “We stopped the blood loss in time and replaced the loss with the stored blood, so I could have time to use Talent properly. Her rib is healed. She will be stiff for a day or maybe two, but should be up now. I’m not a proper healer. Now I am more concerned about the Talent we seek. We have momentarily lost her again.”

Chainai spoke, presumably in Karndic. She got up and clutched at Virona. She spoke again.

“She’s just a little unsteady,” said Virona. “She says the woman has left Rome now, probably on a plane. We wasted valuable time with the press conference and missed her. She is going home. Yet she was thinking in Italian, very strange.”

“Why is that strange?”

“Because she lives in Ireland,” explained Virona. “That’s why we read up on Ireland and accepted you as a companion.”

I was suspicious now as to why the aliens were here. Why they wanted to talk to someone. I decided that some of them obviously used telepathy and Virona was some sort of psychic healer and a telepath. The only explanation for their strange behaviour was that what ever it was they had, the woman had it too and they could erratically sense something about her. They seemed strangely relaxed about the shooting now that Chainai was so rapidly healed. They were totally focused on talking to this woman and catching up with the starship.

~

“This is certainly a new experience for me,” I said.

“Well, we really appreciate your friendship,” said Juili. “The UN can put whatever meaning they want, so long as we in this place know what we do.”

“I don’t think that quite makes sense in English,” I said, “but I think I know what you are trying to say. You folks are a deal more fun to be with than the politicians in America, Europe or Switzerland!”

“But you are a politician!” laughed Virona.

“Ah, but you see, I’m an Irish diplomat, not a politician.”

“Are they better than other kinds?” Virona asked vaguely.

“Politicians and diplomats are not the same thing,” I explained. “Actually I’ve never been a politician. They are elected. Irish diplomats are hired civil servants and can’t be fired, but tell me, some of you have something you call Talent and you have detected a human with it. That’s why you want to talk to her. You have telepathy and healing with it?”

Juili seemed to be listening to something I couldn’t hear.

“Yes, she has Talent,” said Virona, “the first detected here. The big six and the Klah have it most often, that’s why they are called that. It should be the big seven, politics. The least species have maybe 2 or 3 per billion per generation. Some species have never had Talents. It is dangerous to her and the people nearby without training. We will explain it to her and offer her training. Then she can decide. We think if it was explained to the UN and her Government they might not let her freely decide. This is what Chainai says. There are actually seven kinds of Talent.”

I considered this. “I’ll have to tell the UN. But you can talk to her first as long as I am there to make sure you are not coercing her.” I was now convinced there was frequent non-vocal communication, telepathy probably, especially involving Chainai, Virona, Pedar and Olef. They all had fancy outfits too compared to Captain Juili.

“Juili, Pedar and Chainai have her clearly,” Olef said in English. “Janos says we are running out of time to catch the starship.”

“Yes, Olef,” said Virona. “We know definitely she is going to Dublin. They can focus more clearly on her thoughts now than you or I. Later tonight we should be on our way back to the Intergal.”

“Listen, folk,” I said, “don’t talk English on my account. Babble away in your own stuff and get the job done.”

“Fasten seat belts!” Juili commanded. “We will get to Ireland first!”

The Flitter actually got noisy as it accelerated. The sky got very dark, I thought that meant we were at a very high altitude.

I sipped some Molruk. Lovely stuff, not really very like coffee. Definitely not a sustainable habit, unless you could grow it on Earth. Or better still Ireland.

“Another few minutes on this course and we will have an accurate triangulation,” said Virona.

“Now Jack,” said Juili, “a nice unobtrusive place to land but where we can get transport into the Dublin City, on the south side, we think.”

Then we were flying north west on the Irish Sea, barely above the waves. I presumed to evade radar.

“Edge of Marley park over by those hills, see it?” I said, pointing at the map as Juili zoomed in the image on the screen. Somehow they had obtained local maps. The screens showed it all in shades of grey. “How do you know we need to be on the south of the city?”

“Um, Pedar says she was thinking about her apartment,” explained Olef. “Though it makes no sense.”

I wondered what didn’t make sense, but decided I better not ask.

“Now we land,” said Juili.

Juili brought the Flitter down in a field of stubble. In the distance were a lot of wooded hills. Close by to the south was a forest. The field boundary was made of piled stones, I explained it was called a drystone wall, even though it was wet from a heavy drizzle. It almost adjoined the edge of the forest. Juili taxied the Flitter manually closer to the wall until the computer systems complained.

“Now what, do we call in the UN or do you have some kind of plan?” I asked.

“No, Chainai says there must be privacy!” Juili was adamant. “I’m open to suggestions. You can tell the UN later.”

“Well, if you have a name I can maybe get you an address,” I explained, “but as long as I can come and see there is no hanky panky. Is Chainai, rather than you as Captain in charge?”

“Hanky panky?” repeated Juili, puzzled. “Can you tell him, Virona, what does Chainai and Pedar say?”

“The plane has landed just north of the city, she is thinking about security checks. Very strange she is almost broadcasting like a telepath,” said Virona, “and yet you can’t hear her, Juili?”

“No, I hear nothing, Virona.”

“She is called Mei Zhen Kelly,” continued Virona. “Chainai is in charge, this is her mission, she is the college master. We of the Intergal One are only helping. Chainai, Pedar and Olef belong to the college.”

“Virona is a journeyman from the Circle College that works with me on the starship,” added Juili. “We are lucky to have her at all. Yes, Jack, Chainai has been in charge since we entered your Solar system. The Intergal One is just her hired taxi, the Circle College paid a lot of Credits.”

“I don’t understand,” said Virona. “I didn’t expect you to hear her, or half of Dublin would. She’s not a telepath.”

“That’s an odd first name for someone Irish, which will help. Can you get me an internet connection and screen without gibberish on it?”

Juili configured a screen with an English touch keyboard.

After a while I sighed. “I hope this isn’t a mistake?”

“Do you know how to get there?” said Juili.

“Yes,” I replied, “I know where she lives, she is a twenty-three years old computer programmer, single. Technically Irish. It’s not too far from here.”

I produced my phone. “Can you open the hatch so I have coverage? I’ll order a taxi near the park gate just after dark? That’s not long to wait.”

“Yes. Take Chainai and Virona. Coats and hats and no-one will notice!” commanded Juili. “What do you mean, technically Irish?”

“She was born on the island of Ireland, but in the UK as it was in Belfast,” I said. “I’d have imagined she’d be British, but she’s listed as Irish. It’s too complicated to explain just now, it’s not uncommon.”

~

Jack stopped talking and Gemma stared at him.

“So what happened at the apartment?” she insisted. “For the benefit of the others.”

“I was hoping to skip that,” he sighed.

5: Maisie’s Apartment

“Are you Meizhen Kelly?” I said. “Or perhaps a young visitor or a relative? I’m Jack Casey, previously Irish UN representative in New York, and now I’m keeping an eye on the visiting aliens.”

“Yes,” she said, “but everyone calls me Maisie, it only says Mei Zhen on my passport and birth cert. I have no relatives, I do look a bit young. So why does the Irish UN New York representative want me and who are your two odd companions?”

Can you invite us in?” I asked. “This is Chainai and Virona from the starship.”

“You better come in out of the wet,” murmured Maisie. “Follow me upstairs and latch the door, there isn’t much space in the hall and downstairs only has the utility space and Sharon’s bedroom. I’ll put a kettle on. Make yourselves comfortable. Just chuck the coats in the corner, the floor is clean and won’t mind the wet. I thought you were my flatmate Sharon.”

She headed into the kitchen-dinette.

“She looks more like thirteen than twenty-three, barely a teenager, Virona,” I remarked softly.

“So what’s this about?” asked Maisie.

“The girls here have a proposal you should listen to,” I answered. “I’m here as a kind of neutral bystander I guess. I’ve been with them long enough to think of them as people, not just aliens, maybe.” I looked at Chainai. “I’ve been assigned as UN contact to their Galactic Council and observer on their Flitter. A thing like a cross between a NASA shuttle and an aircraft. I’m breaking the rules. I was supposed to say if they found you, but they argued that if the UN or Governments were involved it would take too long and you might not be free to choose. Um, Chainai is actually deaf and blind, her hair band gives her a rough 3D view of the surroundings and this is the tricky bit. Virona here is using telepathy to tell Chainai what is happening.”

“Chainai can’t speak English,” said Virona, “she learned to talk before going deaf and blind. I’ll translate what she says.” Virona paused and Chainai shook her head in a very human way.

Chainai spoke for a minute in a flat voice.

“Chainai says, ‘Please don’t think of me as a dwarf, I’m not at all like the ones in your mythology, I don’t even know any miners and I certainly don’t like enclosed spaces’.”

For a moment you could have heard a pin drop.

“You aren’t guessing I thought that, are you?” asked Maisie. “There is something funny going on. I don’t mean anything derogatory by it. It’s just the nearest description that sort of popped into my mind. I can’t help it, but when I see you I just think cat. I know your fur isn’t quite like cat fur, but you do have a splendid tail. Chainai, are you telepathic too? Why are you all here?”

Chainai spoke and then Virona responded.

“No, she says,” translated Virona, “she is an Empath, only very weakly telepathic, but strangely your thoughts are very bright to her, she practically only needs me to know what Jack is saying. She can’t understand it, as you are not a Telepath.”

Virona smiled. It was a disconcerting smile, because it was a little like a human’s and with almost human lips except for the sharp needle-like carnivore’s teeth. Virona laughed as did Chainai. I didn’t see the joke whatever it was. It seemed unlikely that aliens should have similar body language, had they deliberately learned it?

“You don’t seem as surprised as I’d have thought,” I said. I thought she was remarkably calm for someone unexpectedly visited by aliens.

“I’m not easily surprised, but you might be surprised,” responded Maisie, softly.

Her Northern accent was unmistakable, though I thought upper class. Certainly not from a poor area in Belfast.

“Perhaps this will be easier than we thought,” Virona suggested. “I won’t beat about the bush as you say. You have Talent. A little like what people here call magic in children’s fairy tales and more adult fantasy.” She held up her hand as Maisie started to protest. “Please listen a minute, we don’t regard it as magic, some of your writers hypothetically propose psychic powers, it’s more like that. You are almost certainly the only person on the planet Earth or Tellus that has it. Untrained it’s very dangerous. That’s partly why we both can hear your thoughts, though I’m a proper Telepath, Chainai can sometimes hear your thoughts as clearly as I can, and she is a very good Empath but not really a Telepath. She says you are not a Telepath, she is expert at these judgements. Yet you are intermittently broadcasting your thoughts as if you are. Though Jack senses nothing, so it’s not telepathy. You don’t have any friends? You are broadcasting a no and wanting to say yes, but they are only acquaintances. No one ever said they knew what you were thinking?”

“No, so what is my Talent? I presume it’s because you are Telepath you know it’s not really telepathy?”

“We have some idea, we both sense you have Talents, not telepathy,” Virona explained. “we will confirm our ideas from your experiences. At the Circle College where all Talents are trained they will explain more, but your Talent would have manifested a while ago. How old are you, and um, can I ask you a personal question telepathically?”

“I’m twenty-three, I’ll soon be closer to twenty-four,” replied Maisie and paused. “It was over seven years ago. Err, quite late really. My mother was from the Far East, China in the Orient. Apparently that can be a reason, that’s also why my real name isn’t Maisie but měi zhēn, so Mei Zhen is on my birth certificate. Usually no one can spell it. It’s literally beautiful treasure or pretty pearl so Maisie is a good English nickname as it means pearl and sounds a little bit similar. Strangely I don’t seem to have aged much since then. I even have to carry my passport to prove my age!”

“Is intermarriage between your different ethnic groups rare then?” asked Virona.

“Well, until the last 75 years and more of mobility and air travel, yes. Notice I’m not exact same skin type or eyes compared to most people like Mr Casey, my hair is much coarser, my eyes dark brown.”

“The very slow ageing is a common symptom of Talent,” Virona said. “Try now to think of strange events.”

I yawned. “Sorry folks.” I was feeling exhausted after all the excitement of the chase.

“I don’t have to think hard,” she laughed. “I have never told this to a soul. I can make my finger nails glow. Sometimes it happens unconsciously so I often wear gloves, but they don’t last. Also I work at computer programming and sometimes my keyboards only last about a month. The letters wear off. Late at night if I’m cross my finger tips emit like little crackles or tiny balls of light that float off and make little burn marks on the ceiling. I’d have thought it imagination, except the flatmate remarked my bedroom ceiling needed painting and was there a leak?”

She demonstrated by making her finger tips glow. I was amazed, startled. Virona and Chainai looked worried. No wonder Maisie didn’t seem surprised at all by the Aliens.

Virona seemed extremely nervous. “Chainai says your Talent is the sixth Circle which is concerned with energy. Though some people have a weaker secondary Talent, you have a secondary Talent, it’s not automatically dangerous. We talk of circles as the one with Talent can sense the kind and amount of Talent in the adjoining circles. The logo for Talented is represented by seven overlapping circles arranged in a circle. Chainai is a rarer kind of Empath so can sense Talent at huge distances and which Circle they are in.”

“Mr Casey,” asked Maisie, “how much of this do you know or have seen?”

“Call me Jack, please.” I thought about it for a moment. “Healing, Chainai had two gunshot wounds that would have killed most people and in an hour there wasn’t even a scar, Virona healed it.” I paused and leaned forward. “This is the first I heard of them talk explicitly about energy magic or Talent as they call it. Actually all along they have been sensibly very coy about mentioning Talent at all, letting people think everything is technology. So I have no idea really, I’ve learnt more in the last few minutes than in the last two days. I’ve spent a good length of time in their Flitter. It allegedly runs on a fusion reactor. The problem is I’m on the appropriations committee at UNCS for fusion research. Our largest Tokamak fusion reactor is better than the last, it actually nearly has a net output. It’s enormous. The next one will be very much larger. Maybe they use fusion energy, but it might as well be magic how they do it. It’s said ‘Sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic’, but a different joker said ‘Sufficiently advanced magic is indistinguishable from technology’. I’m beginning to think that our alien visitors are mostly in the second category while talking quick and hand waving hoping we will think it’s the first.”

“Larry Niven or Arthur C. Clarke,” murmured Maisie, “probably both.”

“Very perceptive,” Virona answered wryly. “Well most of our technology doesn’t use Talent. But you guessed very close. Our fusion reactors are really star stuff compressed more than liquid hydrogen and superheated. That is contained in an artefact created using Talent that sort of freezes time, what your SF calls stasis. Except really this explanation is a lie for children in a way. The shield lets out the amount of energy needed. If no energy is withdrawn the star stuff isn’t consumed obviously. Physics as you know it in terms of energy conservation isn’t cheated. You can’t cheat on the universe. Unless you do it so quickly and give it back that the universe doesn’t notice. Like Hawkins Radiation on an event horizon of a black hole you can upset the balance. This is how the warp or jump drive works. Almost no Talent. You guess correctly, Jack, Maisie’s Talent is related to a fusion Orb indirectly.”

Chainai interrupted. Though she could speak clearly, she didn’t speak English.

“Chainai says this is why frankly we are very worried,” explained Virona. “Seven years is very long time for an energy Talent to be without training. Unheard of. She says ‘Can you see, you need to come to the Circle College for training like all our Talents do?’ She will probably be one of your teachers, unlike me, Chainai is not part of the starship crew.”

“I shouldn’t be. I should be laughing at you,” said Maisie, “but oddly, I’m convinced.”

“Have you any family?” Virona inquired. “Also should we call you Mei Zhen or Maisie?”

“No. My parents died after I started college. I’m an only child and they were both too, so no uncles or aunts. My grandparents and other older relatives died while I was a baby and toddler. I have a vague memory of one, but it could have been my dad talking about his aunt,” Maisie explained. “Please call me Maisie, really only my mum called me Mei Zhen. I have no real ties at all. Even in my job.”

“What about your companion, Sharon?”

“She is the receptionist at work,” explained Maisie. “She moved out ages ago, but I suggested she could stay here while I was away. It saves her commuting, we just know each other slightly from meeting at work.”

“She will be here later?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure if she’s staying now that I’m back.”

For a while no-one spoke.

“Look,” said Virona, “did you see the TV news video of the shooting? I healed Chainai.”

“No, I was at the airport, I only heard about it.”

Chainai went close to Maisie and exposed her skin at one of the wound sites, though I couldn’t see what she exposed.

“Yes, there is no indication you were shot a couple of days ago,” she replied. “It’s amazing how close I was to you in Rome when you were shot.”

“I don’t think so, considering that we only went to Rome from Geneva to find you,” Virona explained.

“I think we need a cup of tea,” suggested Maisie, “this is getting intense.” She went to the kitchen-dinette.

We followed her. I thought she meant she was getting embarrassed as the conversation had been relaxed till now.

Virona touched Maisie’s arm. “See the plug? Did you ever do that before?”

Not only was the plug sitting loose on the work surface, but the kettle wasn’t on its holder. How had it boiled? It was still steaming. She’d only left us once, allegedly to fill it and boil it.

“You probably didn’t actually save any electricity though,” Virona said. “Is there a meter for the electricity?”

“Yes, it’s in the utility space downstairs beside the front door. A black box with numbers and a spinning disk that speeds up as you take more electricity. Newer ones are electronic, but it’s mostly mechanical with a coil to sense current.”

“Chainai wants to know if we can we try an experiment?” Virona asked.

“Yes,” she sighed. “You, Virona can go and watch the meter. It’s too high on the wall for Chainai and probably not smart to climb on the washing machine.”

“She’d not be able to read it,” explained Virona, “her locator is no use to read or even make out faces, just to see where people are. She uses her empathy Talent to recognise people.”

“Is an audience off putting?” I asked. I thought it interesting she hadn’t considered asking me to look. Actually I had the impression she was trying to ignore me. Possibly she had a tendency to focus on one thing at a time and wasn’t deliberately ignoring me. Virona had been in control of the discussion, or Chainai, if Virona was receiving instructions telepathically.

“I don’t think so as long as you don’t tell anyone, either way. If nothing happens I’m an idiot and if something does then I’m a freak. You already know more than I have ever admitted to anyone.”

She reached down four mugs, added tea bags and poured the boiling water. She refilled the kettle setting it beside the holder as before. She turned it on, which seemed pointless as it had no power.

“Sit,” she urged. “I’m usually here alone. Nice to have company.”

We all sat, presumably Chainai took her cue from our movement. I grimaced after a sip. I presumed she had no milk with being away.

“The milk in the fridge is fresh from the shop since I got back,” explained Maisie.

The kettle clicked. It was steaming. I guessed the power switch used the steam to flip it up. I glanced at Maisie, then Chainai. Despite being blind, Chainai seemed to be staring at Maisie. She had the expression I’d seen when she was communicating telepathically with Virona. Her almost white cheeks seemed flushed, she was excited. I was astounded and speechless. I heard Virona running up the stairs and slam the lounge door.

“Well?” asked Maisie.

Virona looked at the steaming kettle. “You didn’t plug it in?”

“No, I only put it beside the holder. You can see the plug isn’t disturbed either.”

“The disk just went round very slowly for quite a while then spun very fast and went back to slow so I came up.” Virona hesitated, then sat with us. “You didn’t feel strange or very tired?”

“I just sat and thought about how I wanted a cup of tea,” explained Maisie.

Chainai spoke again.

“What?” barked Maisie. She sounded impatient.

“Well you have an unusual variation of Talent,” continued Virona. “Chainai is right though, we are not qualified to say exactly what else you might be doing.”

“So what else might I be doing?”

“Sorry,” Virona interrupted. “It’s bad to read people’s minds without permission. I’m not spying on you but your thoughts are so bright and strong it’s almost painful! Chainai agrees that we don’t understand exactly what you did. Actually, trust me this is a very unhealthy train of thought for anyone with your Talent and no training, so much so I’m not going to even explain why!”

“I should go with them Jack?” asked Maisie. “Obviously I’m some sort of freak, I have this Talent stuff and it could be dangerous?”

I was a little surprised that she wanted my opinion. She’d obviously known that she was odd and very quickly had decided the Aliens were only here because of her, though how they’d known was a mystery that I didn’t even ask about.

“I can’t officially recommend that. Quite the reverse. Certainly I’ll have to report what the aliens have been saying,” I said after hesitating. “Eventually, anyway. I’d imagine certain agencies might interview and test you indefinitely. I think if you stay you’ll be permanently in a military research establishment. The fact you have no family or real friends will encourage the military to make you vanish.”

I got up as I was nervous and walked about.

“These aliens obviously have experience in training people with your Talents,” I suggested, “but you need to decide. I’m only here to ensure they don’t pressure or kidnap you. I’m even going out on limb letting you decide before I inform the UN. I’ve been with them a few days and they seem fairly straightforward. I can see why they didn’t explain to the UN what they really had in mind.”

“It’s likely you could have some sort of dangerous accident,” Virona explained. “Does Maisie really look like thirteen, Jack, rather than twenty-three?

“Come and look closely, Jack,” insisted Maisie. “I’m used to it!”

I walked up close to Maisie glanced at her childlike outline and stared at her face around the eyes. I stepped back. She did have eye shadow, lipstick and nail varnish, perhaps in an attempt to look older, it detracted from rather than enhanced her appearance. She wasn’t very busty either. She’d never pass as an adult nor indeed as a Dubliner with her posh south Belfast accent and more Chinese than European very youthful appearance. I’d met plenty of Chinese, both stereotypical Han and other ethnic types. She’d not easily pass as any ethnic Asian in China. She seemed a little overweight, though perhaps her lack of height accentuated it. I’m a good judge of height and I suspected the 5′ height she later claimed was an exaggeration.

“Hmm, you barely look like a teenager. The skin is too smooth up close. Um, you aren’t very well developed either.”

“I think if you don’t have an accident possibly killing other people you may find being thirty-two years old very awkward,” said Virona. “It’s probable you won’t look any older than today. Have you an old photo?”

She took her passport from her jacket pocket and tossed it to Virona. Virona and I compared the small mono photo to the woman in front of us.

“I have to carry this all the time. I have no driving licence.”

“This passport is dated nearly 9 years ago,” I remarked. “The photo could have been taken today.”

“Yes, actually it wasn’t an up to date photo, it was taken on my thirteenth birthday. I’d need to be renewing the passport soon. It was for a trip to Taiwan and Hong Kong originally that was put off till I was nearly 15. I know a passport application is supposed to use a recent photo, but my dad said it would do. He suggested I was a late developer. My mum didn’t discuss intimate things at all, I learnt them at first from other girls at Victoria College.”

“Only thirteen, uncanny!” I exclaimed. I’d heard of the Belfast school. It was an expensive posh place with boarders. She hadn’t even changed her hair style in the ten years, the same short cut with a fringe, maybe what Americans call a bob cut with bangs.

“Can I come with you now?” asked Maisie, sounding quite excited. “How long does it take?”

“To get to the Flitter, the starship or the college on Caemoria were they will train you?” Virona asked.

“All I guess,” said Maisie.

“I think the taxi takes about half an hour,” Virona explained, “depends on traffic. Our Flitter is in a field near Marley Park, maybe another half hour walk from the gate, but likely the carrier can meet us. The flight to the starship is a few days, but you can sleep in a bed. Then about three and a half months acceleration out of your Solar System to space deep enough to jump. The jump is instant, up to about 12,000 light years, but our starship is designed to travel to another galaxy so can do the 80,000 to Caemoria in two jumps of 50,000 light years. Knowing the destination exactly makes a longer jump easier too. Then over three months to decelerate in the Caemorian system to Caemoria. A Flitter from Caemoria will meet the starship. Or we might drop you at Grand Central, still two jumps, that won’t add any time for you and saves us on the starship over three and half months.”

Don’t talk, urged Virona telepathically, someone has a radio eavesdropping device. Jack, anyone give you something? Write it down.

I was surprised. She’d never communicated with me telepathically before.

Maisie handed me a wipe off pad and pen from the fridge.

“Only the mobile phone,” I wrote.

“Give it to me,” wrote Maisie.

She wrapped it in about three layers of cooking foil.

Virona laughed. I was stuck again how it was odd the way that the aliens seemed so human despite their appearance.

“Best we keep writing?” Maisie wrote.

Chainai spoke for a moment in her flat version of the Alien language.

Virona spoke after a long pause.

“Chainai says she sensed the elation when I said where the Flitter is parked, they didn’t know. She then sensed their disappointment when you wrapped the phone up. You obviously know some physics. I’ve told the Flitter to take off shortly.”

“How?” asked Maisie.

“There is a very powerful Telepath and also a good secondary Telepath on the Flitter, I have been keeping them informed. Normally we use these Crystals.”

“I know a lot of physics and could have done electronics rather than programming,” explained Maisie, “but it’s harder for a woman to get a job.”

Virona produced her Crystal, which looked almost like very dark brown glass, from her belt pouch. It was featureless and somewhat larger than a mobile phone, though similar in function to the larger Slabs the away team brought back later. She did something and white text appeared on the almost black top. Maisie waved her hand over it.

“The text is reflective, it emits no light?” she asked.

I hadn’t thought of that at the time and wondered how Maisie had suspected it, though I’d seen the aliens using them.

“Yes, but the satellite network for it is not active yet. It will be later, and your people can use it for weather monitoring. But communications only with our Crystals. We must hurry now. I will break the normal rules as these men are obviously spies and I will spy telepathically on them. They might decide to move in and take you into custody, however there are only two, so they have been told to wait for backup.”

Rules, I thought. Obviously that’s why none of the telepaths had communicated telepathically with me earlier.

“You aren’t normally allowed to communicate telepathically with people that don’t have Talent?” I suggested.

“No.”

“I can bring whatever I want?” asked Maisie.

“Whatever can fit in the taxi,” replied Virona.

“Or several?”

“Whatever you like if you can transport it to the Flitter shortly,” explained Virona. “We are not so limited in weight like your passenger planes or spacecraft.”

“Will there be email?” asked Maisie.

I thought that was a crazy question. How could that work across 80,000 light years distance?

“There will be when the sync-sats and LEO Crystal net satellites are operational,” explained Virona.

Maisie went into a frenzy of activity. She had a sort of home office in her bedroom. I helped by moving bags and sacks as she packed. Virona and Chainai sat in the lounge. Virona had the TV on with subtitles and occasionally changed channel. It was obviously on cable. Maisie even packed some items from the kitchen. She surprised me by giving me a CD and a paper note.

“It’s an encryption system,” explained Maisie, “you understand about security being in the Foreign Office?”

“That’s the UK,” I clarified. “I’m in the Department of Foreign Affairs, so yes, I understand the principles if not the details.”

We heard the front door as Maisie was re-arranging the packing. I hoped she was nearly finished.

“Maisie!” called Sharon. “Are you decent?”

Maisie went to the head of the stairs.

“Yes, I have some visitors, I hoped you’d be back as I’m leaving again with them. I’ll be away a few years at least.”

“Can I bring Frank Doyle up?”

“Um, Henry’s brother? Sure. Why is he here?”

Sharon didn’t answer till they were both in the lounge.

“Frank and Sharon,” said Maisie, “this is Jack Casey from the Department of Foreign Affairs and this is Chainai from Caemoria and Virona from the Intergal One.”

Sharon and Frank stared.

“Well, you’ve never had visitors before!” exclaimed Sharon. “Trust you to start with Aliens.”

“Come into my room, Sharon.”

Maisie closed the door, so I don’t know what they discussed.

I established that Frank was engaged to Sharon and that his brother Henry worked in Maisie’s workplace as a programmer or supervisor, Henry was vague on the details. He did van deliveries with his own van.

They came back to the lounge.

“Sharon and I have sorted it, Frank,” explained Maisie. “Can you help move my stuff to the alien’s Flitter? It won’t be far.”

“We can stay here while you are away?” asked Frank.

“Yes.”

“Thanks, that’s great.”

“I need to order a taxi and go now, you can only take one passenger?”

“No problem, I can follow your taxi, Maisie,” he said. “So why are you going away with the aliens?”

“I’m a lot odder than your brother Henry or Sharon imagines. I need to learn stuff about it. Besides if you were single with no ties or family wouldn’t you take up an offer to visit an alien world on a starship? I’m the reason they visited Earth at all!”

“I suppose, Sharon?”

“They won’t be too happy in work, though your Henry won’t mind!”

“You might as well get a separate taxi for me,” I said. “There is no point in me going to the Flitter, I’ll go home, my apartment is here in Dublin.”

Maisie changed her letters putting the old envelopes into the sink’s waste disposal and gave some of them to me to post later as she had no stamps and went to a neighbour to phone for taxis. I presumed the letters she put in her jacket pocket were copies.

We started loading all her stuff into Frank’s van.

Then when we saw the first taxi arrive in the car park behind, Virona and I climbed down from the balcony. Virona caught Chainai and I caught Maisie as they dropped off the edge. I gasped, she wasn’t any lightweight girl.

“I’ll wait for the other taxi,” I offered. I watched Maisie and the two aliens drive off. That was the last I saw of them. Actually I sat with Sharon till Frank came back as I was concerned about the surveillance. I paid the taxi to wait and invited the driver in. I explained I had to wait for Sharon’s fiancé to return.

* * *

“What kinds of Talent are there?” asked Gemma, more for the benefit of the others.

“Maisie says in her messages, that there are seven groups or kinds of Talent. Broadly they are telepathic including empathic, microscopic manipulation including healing, telekinesis, chemical reaction manipulation which is probably influencing entropy or acting like a catalyst or inhibitor, shape changing, energy movement and rarest is the ability to store other Talents in an object.”

“It sounds a bit like magic or fantasy psychic powers,” said Ed, “you’re sure?”

“Yes,” said Jack, “I’ve personally seen the magery used for healing, telepathy and Maisie’s Warlock skill. A Warlock is simply someone that can manipulate energy, no-one admits to knowing why they chose that English title. Maisie could boil a kettle using electricity from the mains wiring without plugging it in. She has a secondary Talent.”

“How many Talents can someone have?”

“Any at all is extremely rare, one is the usual, some have two, most commonly telepathy as the second Talent. No-one has three, they think that’s impossible.”

“Explain her secondary Talent,” insisted Gemma.

“Secondarily she is a Mage, which is the ability to manipulate anything from grain of sand size down to individual atoms and electrons. Some can use this to heal wounds, get rid of poison, destroy tumours, heal broken bones or in some cases infections. Maisie can apparently do this, but too extravagantly to be regarded as a specialist healer.”

“What does too extravagantly mean?” mused Ed.

“I don’t know, nor do I know the basis they used for the English names of the Talents, though some make sense.

“Any comments or questions?” asked Gemma.

“I’d not know where to begin,” suggested Bill. “We can discuss everything privately with Jack and among ourselves, but not the public or Solar Alliance staff in general? The stuff about Talent is all on a need to know basis?”

“Yes, it is,” agreed Gemma. “Actually some of those at the highest level are very dubious about it, except there are aspects of the sync-sat and its fusion orb power unit that don’t make sense. Yet it can’t be merely advanced technology or how would Maisie Kelly have these Talents? Some simply don’t believe Jack.”

“Does anyone really believe she was abducted?” asked Greta.

“The Chinese claim to believe it, but it’s only politics,” explained Gemma, “at least that’s what the Israeli Directorate member, Ilania Olmanski, says.”

“She’s going to be basically the boss in Shannon?” asked Jack.

“Yes, Jack.” Gemma turned off the video projector and smiled at him.

“Now,” continued Gemma, “just to clarify, anything not in the public video of the visit to the starship or not public at the UNGA, is regarded as secret. Everyone understand?” Gemma watched them all nodding. “Jack, the emails and Talent?”

“We do have emails from the equivalent of the Caemorian Deputy Premier, called the Wildgrave. I have no idea why they chose an archaic Hungarian title. They also have issued Chinese equivalents. Wildgrave Plonnis seems to have some sort of senior role on the self styled Galactic Council which has about 1,500 full members and a larger number of associate members. It’s not as simple as that. Maisie has also emailed me, but other than thanking me for my interest, almost never answers any questions. We presume from examination and comments from Maisie Kelly and Wildgrave Plonnis that the sync-sats exchange very high capacity data-storage crystals up to several times a day. Yes, Bill?”

“How come you know this stuff?” complained Bill, “you’re not a technical person, we are all technically trained, electronics, physics, mathematics.”

“For whatever reason everyone was on a need to know basis till now.” Jack explained.

“What is Maisie like,” insisted Greta, “why doesn’t she answer questions?”

“Gemma?” asked Jack.

“Jack only met her for less than two hours under strange circumstances,” explained Gemma. “Even apart from Talent, which is why her ageing has slowed, she is hardly average. She’s from a rich family, on both sides, but her parents were the last. They were killed accidentally as they drove past an IRA car bomb that had been prematurely abandoned. She was 18, yet half way through university as she did A levels early. She’d only had one job as a programmer and was regarded as the best ever. Possibly extremely good at languages and also expert at electronics. She doesn’t seem to have ever made friends or enemies at school, university or work. The receptionist where she worked did share her apartment, though she moved out for a while, for non-personal reasons, Sharon Doyle wouldn’t clarify that. She was born and lived most of her life in Belfast and had an Irish passport before moving to Dublin to work. We don’t know why, but not everyone in Northern Ireland with an Irish Passport is a Republican or Nationalist. You can get Jack to explain the differences later. The short answer is that she claims it’s up to the Wildgrave to answer questions. She claims privacy too.”

“So what it boils down to,” explained Jack, “assuming we believe what the Alien search team, the Wildgrave and Maisie says, is that the Intergal One was diverted purely to pick up Maisie, who has this Talent, which is so rare most aliens never meet anyone that has it. We think only two of the starship crew and population, and that is maybe higher than the general population. Olef, Pedar, Chainai and her assistant Luci were especially picked up by the starship from a way station and let off at a way station with Maisie. That starship is exploring Andromeda.”

“So what has Maisie Kelly been doing?” asked Bill.

“Studying at a special college, the only one,” continued Jack, “especially founded to train newly searched out people with Talent. No, we don’t know exactly what they teach them.”

“So really the only source of information about the aliens is the Wildgrave Plonnis,” mused John. “Essentially we know nothing about Maisie Kelly before she left or since. Has he said when we will have an official visit, Jack?”

“He says it will be soon,” said Jack. “I think they are concerned about the whole New World Order philosophy pushed by the World Democratic Council and the extreme white supremacist Northern Alliance. They do have a strict non-interference doctrine.”

“Yeah,” drawled Bill, “that’s the other thing the Aliens have like the TV show, their Prime Directive, they kept emphasizing it on the starship and how in Andromeda they wouldn’t even contact any civilisation, only monitor.”

6: Brown’s Agency

Boots on the ground

Electronic surveillance is inexpensive compared to people. It takes a team of thirty trained operatives, ten in three shifts as a minimum, to spy on one person. Perhaps a cost of over $3 Million a year

—CIA

Fred Brown sat with his feet up on the windowsill looking over Belfast city and the Lough. Samson and Goliath dominated the skyline, even through the pale drizzle of an afternoon in February. Then his secretary buzzed the intercom.

“There is man to see you,” said Eve. “He won’t say who he is or what his business is.”

“That’s hardly unusual,” he quipped.

“He says Ray recommended you.”

“Send him in then in a minute, he’s in the waiting room?”

“Yes, he’s got a bit of a southern accent.”

He spun round and selected the waiting room on the CCTV and adjusted the camera. He had a vague recollection of seeing him before. He looked him up on the database to be sure. It was Jack Casey formerly of the Irish Department of Foreign Affairs and he had been on secondment to the UN as an observer. Fred then selected the outer office on the CCTV instead, turned off his PC screen, opened a trade directory and notebook and waited, relaxed now that he knew for sure it was Jack, as Ray had promised.

“Fred Brown?”

“There is no-one else here,” Fred grinned. “Have a seat.”

For a while he said nothing.

“I guess I have to trust you or there was no point coming?”

Fred said nothing but looked him in the eye.

“I’m sure our mutual friend explained that,” said Fred.

“I’m Jack Casey, I’m not a rich person,” said Jack, “but I have a bit aside for a rainy day, partly a legacy.”

“What is it you need us to do, then we will worry about fees? Only if I take it on.”

“Ah, of course, you might not,” said Jack. “I’d like to know more about my employers, the Solar Alliance. I used to work as an Irish Civil Servant and now I’m the Solar Alliance Galactic Envoy. It sounds important, but basically I just send and receive messages, sort of emails, with the Wildgrave Plonnis, Caemorian Envoy and representative of the Galactic Council. They don’t really represent the entire Galaxy, actually I’m not too sure they really do much at all.”

“Right, I get that,” said Fred. “I looked you up. I recognised you on the CCTV. What actually do you want us to do, why did Ray recommend us?”

“He recommended you personally. I’m concerned about the Solar Alliance. I don’t understand who is really making policy or even what the goals are. I find that worrying, I’ve even heard whispers that the shadowy new world order people are real and somehow involved. The World Democratic Council politicians and the Northern Alliance members all mention a coming new world order far too often.”

“Let me see,” Fred called on the intercom. “Eve, get me the Solar Alliance files!” He didn’t really need them, but it might be useful, props were always good.

“You have files already?”

“You’d be surprised what we have files on. We are very concerned about the Solar Alliance.”

Eve came in with a box file.

“Tea or coffee, Jack?” she asked.

“Coffee is fine.”

“Eve, get the files on the World Democratic Council too.”

Fred waited for Eve to leave when she returned, not because she couldn’t be trusted, but to give Jack time to think, as she was supposed to listen on the intercom.

“The public image and statements don’t bear close scrutiny.” Fred lifted out the files and glanced through them. Then passed them to Jack. “Can you be more specific?”

“Is this a real yacht broker?”

“Certainly, we have offices in various countries, loads of real boats in various marinas here and the Republic. That’s your cover story. Eve will give you a brochure.”

“But you’re really a detective?”

“A specialist investigator, I know only a little about boats. The investigative agency is actually separate. I don’t usually do any field work either.”

“I want to know what they think sending six armed Valkyrie starships to Caemoria is supposed to achieve, like who is really running the Solar Alliance? If it’s something bad I want to blow the whistle or stop them. We don’t want to make about 2,500 super advanced alien worlds cross with us. I suspect the Caemorian Empire while technically only one large planet, maybe 5,000 or 7,000 years more advanced than us, perhaps has sway on over 5,000 worlds, I’ve no exact information. Maisie Kelly, who is there and comes from here, is vague and the Wildgrave Plonnis is evasive, as you’d expect an expert diplomat. They are not Incas facing conquistadors. The Solar Alliance seems to have too much political power.”

“I know who Mei Zhen Kelly is. What do you fear? A war with the aliens?”

“Maisie certainly worries about that,” insisted Jack. “I worry about conspiracies here, the weapons systems of our Valkyrie starships are more of a threat to us than to the aliens. I have some files for you. There is stuff here that isn’t public. The weapons systems of the Valkyries and the real reason the aliens were here. They are moving all of us that had much alien contact to the new HQ that’s going to open in Shannon. Everyone except the two Americans they took from New York to Darmstadt, Chuck and Mallory. This has all the details, though almost no-one believes it. I was there the night the aliens persuaded Maisie Kelly to go with them.”

“I’ll do some preliminary investigation and see is there anything to worry about. Their monopoly on fusion power is worrying, as is the economic and political disruption of such technology. I agree that the biggest risk is the World Democratic Council folk leveraging the Solar Alliance and leveraging any conflict to take over world government. I think the idea of a new world order originally was an imagined conspiracy but the arrival of real aliens has given the ultra right and white supremacists an opportunity. They feed on xenophobia. The World Democratic Council is simply the toned down political face of the white supremacist Northern Alliance. The military or terrorist wing is the more secretive Oriflamme Guardians.”

“I’d not heard of the Oriflamme Guardians,” responded Jack, “though I’d thought the Northern Alliance was behind the new World Democratic Council. Where is their money coming from? The Northern Alliance was never well funded.”

“I suspect an American Technology Billionaire.”

“What sort of disruption do you think fusion power will cause?”

“You’ll be amazed,” said Fred, “we have done an analysis of that for a client. We have a financials related company. Don’t forget to get a brochure off Eve about the yachts.”

“So you’ll take the job?”

“I said I’ll make a preliminary investigation. Don’t come here again after today. Buy a new laptop next door, for security. Make sure you tell them your name and ask for training from Craig. Then come back, I’ll have some more questions.”

After Jack was gone Fred called the computer people and told them to sell a special to Jack Casey and let Craig explain it. Fred sent Craig to them to do the explaining. He’d explain some basic trade-craft in their personal training room. Fred then read the reports from Bob and Alice’s Chicago organisation by the men Jack had known as Chuck Miller and Mallory Wosnak. He’d always known Bob and Alice’s outfit was some kind of CIA skunk works. He watched all the video recordings again and read the rest of the file. He was right to be worried. Time for some chess with Bob, also known as The Man in Chicago. Like the Israelis, they seemed to have no assets in Ireland that they admitted to him anyway. Jack Casey was unlikely to cover the costs on it, so it was as well he already had a client who would eventually be paying for this. After this one I really should retire, he thought. He was getting soft.

Fred turned on his screen and opened his own files on the Valkyries to compare with the information from Jack. All the weapons were adapted versions of existing systems and all clamped to the linear accelerator superstructure to save weight. A Valkyrie was limited in mass compared with the Ohio or Vanguard submarines, though only had to withstand one atmosphere.

4 x Neptune SLBM (Space Launched Ballistic Missile) each with 4 thermonuclear warheads, based on Trident. Space or space to ground.

16 x Popeye-S Cruise Missiles based on the Popeye Turbo submarine launched version. Conventional or Atomic warheads. Space or space to ground.

50 x Lilith defensive short range interceptors, based on Delilah without wings or turbojet, space only.

1 x Mjölnir, an untested hybrid coil and rail gun. An unknown number of cast iron slugs as ammunition. There was some suggestion they might try a refractory coating. Space or space to ground.

As yet unknown if the space to ground weapons would cope with re-entry, particularly the Popeye.

From what he knew of the aliens it wasn’t much of a threat to them, a surprise attack wasn’t feasible. The Mjölnir took advantage of the huge electrical generation capacity of the Valkyrie using its Tokamak fusion reactors, some of the Jump drive electronics, the vacuum of space and the length to easily achieve hypersonic speeds for the slugs, though that was a meaningless term in space. Mounted coaxially to the multiple linear accelerators of the torch ion plasma drive, thus the starship had to be pointed at the target. Otherwise any nuclear submarine was more of a threat. However the submarines were all tightly controlled in well disciplined navies. Who really controlled the Solar Alliance and how would the Valkyries be commanded if they were built and worked?

~

“So, Jack,” said Fred, “how is the laptop?”

“I think I’ll need a little more training, it’s a clever ploy having Linux rather than Windows to justify my next training visit. It’s not actually so much different to use, really no different for the email, internet and word-processing. I go to the computer place, not here?”

“Yes, don’t come here. Obviously there is an ingredient missing in what you told me so far. It’s not really much to do with the main threats we face or to do with the Solar Alliance. It’s not in the files you gave me, other than a hint, unless you are serious about Talent? It’s certainly not public either. Why did the aliens really come and why did Mei Zhen Kelly go to study in the Circle College? Pretend I know nothing.”

“The visit was purely about what they call Talent, with a capital T,” said Jack making quotes in the air with his fingers. “As an aside, Maisie says their spoken language sounds differently for proper nouns and words we might write differently, unlike us the written and spoken languages are virtually identical. Anyway no-one really believed the story about Talent till they examined the power source of one of the sync-sats the aliens left. Even now, I think much is discounted as poor communication. Some still claim it’s simply very advanced technology. Their electrical age started about 7000 years ago. Ed says that attempting to dismantle one would be as stupid as Victorians removing all the dampers from a nuclear power station to take a better look. There is a great reluctance to admit the aliens purely came because they detected Maisie’s Talent, as really it seems like magic, or psychic powers.”

“Tell me your story,” insisted Fred, “start with anything you learnt later and fill in with whatever Plonnis and Mei Zhen Kelly told you later.”

“I’ll tell you first what the others told me,” explained Jack. “Firstly in the unlikely event you ever meet her, it’s Maisie, never ever Mei Zhen. Yes, Mei Zhen is on the birth certificate, passport and PRSI, but it seems to have been purely a pet name her mother used. I suspect it reminds her too much of her parents death, as its use seems to annoy her. As far as we can tell she was always Maisie in school, university and work.

“Long after I had been debriefed, I met our away team that visited the alien starship, Ed White from the USA and NASA was team leader, I think deliberately an African-American, John Williams representing ESA, a sop to the UK, Greta Schott also ESA but originally East German, originally a USSR trained cosmonaut. Ana Bogaevskaia from the Russian Federation representing Roscosmos. Finally Bill Jones of NASA as the deal was that five of ours would go to the starship and five of their people would visit us. I still don’t know all the information ESA and the aliens exchanged on approach. The aliens ignored the Russians, Chinese and Americans, they only wanted to talk to ESA and the UN. Some snippets are from the alien Captain Juili, via Maisie. Somehow they are still in touch.”

“Maisie too?” exclaimed Fred.

“She gave me encryption keys and a program that night in her apartment,” said Jack. “So far no-one has insisted I hand over the keys. I think on a whim she doesn’t respond to anyone else or send email to anyone else other than a couple of messages to Sharon, the flatmate and receptionist where she worked, according to the logs on the email gateway. Unlike here, email among the aliens isn’t free, though that might just be interstellar messages. She has to pay to receive my messages as no-one here yet has an account using the alien’s Credits system. I’ve no idea what the cost is. She ignores most direct questions, she says that’s the Wildgrave’s Office’s responsibility. Occasionally she’ll explain that she doesn’t know. She doesn’t think anything known to the general public on Caemoria or even the Circle College is kept secret from her.

“Remember the excitement, Fred? Every news channel on Earth was carrying enhanced telescope shots of the alien starship decelerating on its giant plasma torch, like a comet with the tail the wrong way round, the edited highlights of the alien transmissions with also a galaxy map showing their origin. I collected every article and video taped loads of programs. I could hardly believe it when I was assigned to babysit them.”

“Yes, it’s hard to believe it’s only a little more than two years ago,” said Fred. “It’s a pity they were moving too fast to orbit.”

“So you saw the video of the outside, the bridge, the apartment our astronauts had and the massive internal park where they had the meeting?”

“Yes, all that,” said Fred. “Just tell me what the aliens said to our team and what they thought of it.”

“There was also some sort of adapted ICBM fired at the alien starship. That was hushed up. I still didn’t hear if it was the Chinese or Russians. The Russians say it was a sea launch just off the Chinese coast, the Chinese say it was the Russians, from just over the Chinese border near the coast. We don’t think that North Korea could have done it. The significant thing was that the Intergal One had no weapons to deal with it. They turned and fried it with their massive array of hybrid ion drive plasma torch engines.”

“That’s really odd,” agreed Fred. “Give me the summary of anything the team told you.”

“I have a video recording that Ed made on the alien starship, they were reviewing the day’s tour. I have their permission to play it.”

~

“So anyway,” explained Jack after the video ended, “the alien starship was intended to explore Andromeda without making contacts, it had many recycled or old subsystems, old Flitters, even though it was a one off purpose built starship. It’s a Galactic Council project rather than Caemorian. The aliens are not aggressive, nor interested in colonising. They regarded it as an inconvenience visiting us.”

“So why did they come?”

“My part of the tale and the subsequent messages via sync-sat will explain.”

“What is a sync-sat?” said Fred. “I mean in detail, we all know it links us to Caemoria.” Though Fred knew well what it was, he wanted to know if Jack knew.

“The details are secret,” said Jack, “well obviously governments, the UN, some scientists and the Solar Alliance know. A pair of giant machines made at the same time, somehow linked. Quantum entanglement is used, but purely for clock synchronisation, not for communication as that’s apparently impossible, but to synchronize their internal jump drives that only swap a pair of physical data storage devices. A glass-like wafer about the size of a thumb nail, they exchange fresh pairs of entangled particles, so the entanglement is refreshed each time with redundancy before the entanglement decays. The aliens gave us a pair by putting them into Earth orbit. According to Maisie, the Caemorian government and Galactic council was quite cross about that. They only work in deep space, however there must be more than one because transmission doesn’t seem to have been blocked by our sun since the system came online. They have one big microwave dish but usually communicate via laser to the satellites the aliens released in LEO, low Earth orbit. We can’t duplicate them for two reasons, the main one being that the mass of our tokamak is too much for the variant of Jump drive that swaps the data crystals.”

“Yes, I know about those,” said Fred. “I thought those augmented our weather monitoring satellites.”

“Yes, they do, we captured one, we think they do as the aliens claim. They also act as a network for the aliens mobile phone-like devices they call Crystals in English. We have five of those. The Solar Alliance has them now, not the away team any longer. We assume that the LEO satellites send their weather pictures with monitored radio and TV to Caemoria or the Galactic council via laser links to the sync-sat.”

“So they are used to spy on us?” said Fred. “Yet we have not destroyed them?”

“It was thought that would set a bad precedent. The Japanese, Americans, French, Russians and Chinese have all been spying by satellite for years. Destroy the aliens satellites today and the Chinese destroy all satellites they don’t like tomorrow. Besides it would create too much debris.”

“Anything really secret is on fibre or encrypted,” mused Fred.

“This next part of the story is based on my own experience and what I was told later by Maisie,” explained Jack. “It explains part of the alien’s motivation. However I can’t vouch for the accuracy of what Maisie was told.”

“You are OK for time?” said Fred.

“Yes, I’ve booked a hotel.”

“So only some of the aliens actually learned English?”

“Juili, Virona and Olef learned to speak it properly,” agreed Jack, “the rest used computer translation. We think a team learned to read it and listen, they seem to have very advanced spoken speech to phonetic text capture. It’s amazing that it was two years ago.”

~

“So our people left the Intergal One and spent weeks travelling back while the aliens took Maisie to the starship with only a few days in space,” explained Jack after recounting his meeting with the Aliens and Maisie.

“So that was it?” said Fred. “The aliens somehow detected Maisie from the other side of the galaxy, redirected some sort of new intergalactic exploration starship, obviously without using radio as there was no speed of light delay, then they came and persuaded her to leave because she has this thing called Talent? It sounds unlikely.”

“The away team saw the insides of a Flitter power unit, what they call a fusion orb. It matches the internals of the sync-sat power unit. That has hydrogen at a density needed for fusion. The scientists don’t understand what controls the fusion reaction. Maisie doesn’t explain it, except that an orb uses an Enchanter’s Talent to store other Talents. It’s got some sort of stasis and is at the sort of density that hydrogen in a star has. The LEO Crystal net satellites have regular solar panels with batteries, though far more efficient than ours.”

“I can see why no-one is going to take one apart,” said Fred. “Yet we figured out the jump drive from the sync-sat?”

“Yes,” agreed Jack. “I don’t understand it. I doubt anyone does, what I hear is that they figured out how to scale it, but don’t actually know how it works. However it uses a frightening amount of power, but only for an instant. The sync-sat coupled with other alien information has enabled the perfection of Tokamak based fusion, though that needs heavy hydrogen with lithium and produces more neutrons than the alien system. They plan to use ordinary nuclear waste reacting with the neutrons to increase steam generated to make more electricity.”

“You never heard why Chainai was shot?” said Fred. “I followed the news report of the shooting at the time. I was amazed at the attitude of the aliens. It was never solved?”

“If it was,” mused Jack, “I never heard. I have no theories either. There are a few things to we need to understand about the aliens. In English they call us Tellurians, we and they are both humans in English. The closest they have to alien is translated literally as Off-Worlder. The Intergal One Council decided on the policy that the Italians should treat it the same as the shooting of any Italian. The Intergal One is also not at all typical according to Maisie, it’s a one off experiment, though Juili and Virona are apparently merely employees of the Galactic Council. Chainai, Olef and Pedar have no connection at all with the Galactic Council or the Intergal One. They were picked up at a space station called a way station and then dropped off at it later. A separate starship took the three of them and Maisie to Caemoria. I know a little more about Chainai because she is now one of Maisie’s closest friends as well as Mentor and Master at Circle College. Getting shot seems to have been one of the less traumatic aspects of Chainai’s life. She’s actually a couple of years younger than Maisie. Olef is a little older. I don’t know anything about Pedar except he’s a powerful telepath.”

Fred thought about Jack’s stories.

“Not Victorians,” said Fred, “we are more like ancient Babylonians to the aliens. Are we sure Talent isn’t some sort of innate skill to utilise technology so advanced it seems like magic?”

“No,” said Jack, “it’s not that. Maisie’s pretty sharp on science and engineering. She adamant it’s something in the person, though not genetic.”

“I’m not convinced,” said Fred, “both Clarke and Niven said any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. So what happened next?”

“You can imagine no-one was pleased,” said Jack. “I was supposed to be monitoring the aliens. They discovered when we were talking to Maisie in her apartment that my phone was bugged, or being tracked. There were two people in a car out the front. The aliens claimed they were running out of time so Maisie had to come with them now or stay behind. No time for negotiations with anyone.”

“She wasn’t coerced?”

“Not at all. I said I couldn’t recommend she leave, I may have suggested that governments would be interested in what she was able to do. She wasn’t surprised at all by the aliens. I think she was delighted to be asked to go with them.”

“Really?” said Fred.

“Definitely, she hasn’t regretted it. Quite the reverse. She seems to have real friends, which she didn’t seem to have here. I helped them pack, I couldn’t imagine how they were going transport it all to the Flitter, Maisie vaguely spoke of ordering a couple of taxis from a neighbour’s house in case the phone was tapped. However her flatmate Sharon turned up with a boyfriend now her husband, Frank Doyle, the brother of Henry Doyle that Maisie worked with, and a van, which was fortunate as her suitcases were full of books and the clothes in bin bags. I waited with Sharon for Frank to come back then I went to my Dublin apartment, then I went into the DFA office in the morning to face the music. Frank Doyle said Maisie and the aliens actually stopped at a supermarket, though I never heard what Maisie bought. I expect the security people later established that, but I never got a copy of the report. Gemma Stewart might know. When it was evident that Maisie had left with the aliens I was put in protective custody.”

Eve came in with sandwiches and coffee.

“You were interrogated?”

“Endlessly,” said Jack. “I suspect some of the questions came from the UN or the Americans. Eventually Wildgrave Plonnis contacted the UN and requested to contact me and said that Maisie would also send me email. I’m sure my email accounts had been read already, but after the first few, Maisie’s emails were encrypted. As I mentioned earlier, she’d given me various keys in her apartment, one to send to her and one to receive from her and I’d given her my email address. The aliens claimed email would work, though with about 25 days delay in each direction. Fortunately I’d been released before she started using the encryption. I’ll put the keys on this trick laptop you’ve supplied and destroy the hard copy?”

“Yes, that will be more secure,” said Fred, “if they are too long to memorise. How did you hide them?”

“I used a well read favourite book. I put a faint dot under a letter on each page with pencil starting page 32. The count from the first letter on a page was the ASCII code. A dot above a letter on the same page for the other code. Maisie suggested it. I had to look up ASCII. I then burnt the paper she gave me. I did that as soon as I got to my apartment.”

“An interesting reverse variation of a book code,” said Fred. “Only security by obscurity, but given the time scale and resources better than nothing. Erase the marks and then incinerate the marked pages separately, then the book. Crumple up the ash and flush it. Ash can be read. What happened next?”

“I was in limbo, but regularly interrogated for over a year,” said Jack. “I was notionally the UN envoy to the Galactic Council. Then simultaneously the DFA asked me to resign and the Solar Alliance offered me the job of liaison officer to Caemoria and the Galactic Council for the Solar Alliance. The job involves being interviewed by Gemma Stewart, the expert on languages and culture from England and communication with Wildgrave Plonnis. Nothing much to do. Meeting the away team and the various senior people in the Solar Alliance. We had meetings in Geneva originally and now are setting up the permanent HQ in Shannon. So I’m back in Ireland.”

“Gemma Stewart is certainly well known as an expert,” said Fred. “So any conclusions?”

“I suspect the Caemorians, who are mostly Karnd, dominate their part of the galaxy by culture and language. Also the electronic Credits economic system is curious. Maisie doesn’t know how it works. She claims there are no banks, equivalent of credit cards, stocks, shares, futures or anything like that. No savings on interest, because that would encourage speculation and unwise lending. The manufacturers do have some sort of hire purchase for items, though you can’t sign up to more than you can realistically afford. Any kind of military or commercially imposed galactic empire can’t work anyway. So any risk from the aliens is on a very long term cultural level. The Caemorians don’t suppress any local culture or religion, according to Wildgrave Plonnis and Maisie Kelly.”

“So they really came here purely to send Maisie to their special Circle College, for our safety and Maisie’s safety because she has this mysterious Talent ability?”

“Maisie believes it. I believe it. I don’t believe that the UN or Solar Alliance really think Caemoria is any physical threat, nor unlike Maisie do I believe that we are stupid enough to attack an alliance of thousands of worlds, thousands of years more advanced than us, about 80,000 light years from here. Some worlds do plan to send diplomats here. Caemoria, Glamis and Klim. Probably we would get one delegate from the Galactic Council to the UN. The Galactic Council physically meets near the Caemorian capital, its name actually just means capital. So the excessive armaments of our own Valkyrie starships only make sense in terms of threatening Earth governments. The management of the Solar Alliance seems opaque. The lack of armament on the Intergal One seems to have been unusual. Maisie says it’s been rectified, though without being specific.”

“I’ll be in the Oak Wood Arms hotel in Shannon the day the shuttle crew that was on the Intergal One arrive,” said Fred. “Be there early. Ignore me when I turn up. I might have a phone for you. Don’t call me on anything else. It does sound like Caemoria and the Circle College are the most important aspect of the aliens and that there is something odd about our own Solar Alliance.”

“Thanks, Fred,” said Jack.

“Don’t forget anything Craig told you,” said Fred. “Only use the alternate hidden storage for decrypting the encrypted emails. Copy the received version on a floppy from the public storage along with all the other emails and mark it backup. That won’t be too suspicious. Then read the floppy into the hidden storage. It has no internet or email set-up to make it secure. Always switch back.”

“I’ll be careful,” said Jack. “Craig copied all my data off the old laptop and says he will clean it properly and dispose of it. I didn’t realise my deleted decrypted copies are only gradually overwritten. Fortunately there is nothing important.”

“Take care,” said Fred, “they can recover keys if they have enough plain text. But perhaps no-one had looked at your old laptop since Maisie sent encrypted messages. Likely they imagine it’s easy to break the encryption. I wonder did she write it herself or use a published system?”

“She didn’t say,” said Jack. “Gemma says she seems competent according to her employer, so which ever was more secure?”

“It will be a published system then.”

Part 2: The Solar Alliance

Cheap Electricity from fusion power to fund the journeys to the stars. About two years after Maisie left on the starship.

7: Shannon, Ireland

Shannon Town and Airport

Created on a marsh in the 1940s – as Transatlantic flights ceased using seaplanes – across the Shannon estuary from Foynes. Re-invented as a Duty Free Zone in the early 1960s, it was unique during the Cold War era in having a Russian oil terminal, US military aircraft and Moscow-Cuba USSR transits as well as later having Concorde training flights.

Fred Brown considered his strategy. Obviously he didn’t really want to break the law generally, but some illegal eavesdropping was needed. A bug in a phone or phone cabinet wasn’t so much use. The roadway cabinet would get a bug anyway. He hated the idea, but he knew he wasn’t fit enough any longer, Colin Black would have to lead the team on site.

~

One team arrived with a truck and van just like the ESB vehicles. A second team had an Eircom van. Earlier they had dug two holes and nearby rectangular pits then fitted with them covers, by now the concrete would be dry. Two of the workers were women, but Colin thought with the baggy work clothes, boots, hi-visibility jackets and hard hats no-one would notice, the last thing he wanted was a newspaper article lauding gender equality in the ESB. Colin watched from his hidden vantage point in the Drumgeely flat that they shared as their base accommodation.

One near the SA HQ and one near the mobile base mast. The poles were soon mounted.

Three cleaners had been on site from the beginning. One was a direct agent, the second thought she was helping the Irish Security services, the third thought she was helping the IRA, she cost nothing. None knew of the others.

Colin didn’t risk meeting the cleaners, not even the one directly working for Fred, though he knew her well. Fred would only contact him if the system wasn’t working. He considered which of the six operatives to keep on hand. More than three would be too many and six was too few for intensive surveillance. Key items were the two airports, estuary, harbours and communication. At least one woman, Jean perhaps. Sometimes you needed to follow someone into the female toilets. Or distract, Jean wasn’t naturally the distracting type, but it was amazing what she could do with a wig, some enhancements, make-up and suitable clothes. Her natural hair was always cut very short and normally her clothes were chosen purely for durability and ease of movement. Doug as he had the licence and experience of hovercraft, plane and helicopter. Only Sean could pass as someone more local in conversation. Sean and Doug had marine and diving experience too. You never knew. Jean had a lot of talents, beyond being physically lethal.

One agent cleaner managed to swap the phone of one Director after quickly swapping SIM and cloning content. It would act as a bug on command and a tracker. Root kits were successfully installed on a few computers left momentarily unlocked via a USB stick. Some USB keyboards or mice were swapped as the USB HID could install trojans and root kits. Soon many passwords and user accounts had been obtained. Just as well it was all new kit, the older PS/2 keyboard and mouse couldn’t be exploited silently like USB HID. Sybil stopped tampering and concentrated on being purely eyes and ears without being caught.

The cleaner that thought she was working for the IRA had on her own initiative decided to photograph documents and was caught. This was quite good as some of the bugs had her fingerprints. The Solar Alliance assumed that she was really working for French Security and simply told the job agency that she was unsuitable as she disturbed people’s desks.

Fred was fairly sure that the SA security didn’t really believe that the bugs and cleaner were from French Security or was any more than a distraction. Fred also had Craig track all the share prices of companies connected with the Solar Alliance. Futures trading of all significant materials and currency exchanges. The study by Craig on the economic and cultural impact of economic fusion power had been completed long ago, soon they would know how accurately.

* * *

Amazingly the street cabinet tap resulted in a few interesting faxes. Fred hoped that something important would come to light soon, this was costing a fortune. He didn’t tell Jack Casey what he was really doing, he didn’t plan on ever explaining who was really funding it or that he’d started an entire year before the Solar Alliance came to Shannon. Jack would be useful interference if the mission was blown.

Just about everyone with any space experience had been hired by the Solar Alliance. Fred wondered if the Russians, French, British, Chinese, Indians, Israelis, Australians, Germans, Canadians and Spanish had any submarines left in service, at least with experienced crews. The bulk of crew for the Valkyries were experienced submariners, not pilots or astronauts. The first six Valkyries alone required about 1400 people. Each had a total complement of 236, including 10 specialists and a mix of 6 experienced astronauts and naval commanders as captain and senior officers. So 60 specialists and 36 officers required in total. Interestingly the Russians, French and Chinese were calling them astronauts now as they truly would be star sailors. About 5,000 people had already been hired and were in training. Fred knew there were training camps in Canada, Brazil, USA, Australia, China, Russia, UK and France. No-one seemed to know how many Valkyries would be produced. The plan was that pairs would explore with one used to carry messages back and forth once the fleet of six were dispatched to Caemoria. Unlike the aliens they could only send messages via starship, their Tokamak based reactors had too much mass for a sync-sat. Worryingly no-one seemed to be saying what the plan would be when they arrived there. The longer term plan was to explore their own part of the Milky Way galaxy. Craig thought that the logistics and factory investments suggested continuous ongoing production funded by a fraction of the profits from the terrestrial tokamaks. He thought it likely that military spending would gradually ramp up to previous levels as tokamak revenue replaced government funding of the Solar Alliance.

Fred had wondered at the confidence of the Solar Alliance to mass produce the Valkyries before even testing one, but doing that would have delayed the program by nearly two years. He speculated that a Caemorian or other alien source had confirmed the design would work. He knew that the Wildgrave, or more likely some expert, had helped iron out bugs in the tokamak as part of the agreement to allow the LEO Crystal net satellites to operate. He sent an email via the dish on the roof, linking direct to the Crystal net, to his Caemorian contact to clarify this. It would be at least 42 days till he received an answer. Only Craig and Eve knew about the link.

* * *

Fred turned the car into the Oak Wood Arms Hotel. It gave an impression of being almost in the countryside. There was no shortage of posher hotels in Clare and Limerick, however it was certainly close to Shannon Airport and the Solar Alliance office.

Fred sauntered into the bar and ordered a meal and coffee. He sat at table close to Jack’s so he would see and hear everything clearly. He’d not told his own people that he was visiting. Colin’s people wouldn’t be tailing this group as he’d reluctantly told them that Jack would be reporting direct to him. He toyed with not telling any of his agents employed inside, and compromised by only telling the two permanent agents. The junior had dutifully reported that Gemma Stewart’s research team, Jack and the original five astronauts that visited the alien starship were all moving into the newly opened Shannon HQ.

Fred had looked at the list of all the flights for the day. It wasn’t a long list. Shannon certainly was strategic and with capacity as logistics hub. One of the few airports used by Soviets and US Military during the cold war. It even had a Russian oil terminal and an Antonov freight office. To many it might seem a strange place for the HQ of the Solar Alliance, but it was very logical – though the holding company was in the Cayman Islands anyway. Few of the Directorate or Operations Directors would be at the HQ no matter where it was. At least this place was trivial to find and barely more than a few minutes drive from the airport. He’d taken a train to Dublin and picked up a local car there.

~

Suddenly Jack started. He’d fallen asleep. Bill and Ed were standing laughing at him.

“You checked in?” Jack asked.

“Sure,” drawled Bill, “she did want our passports and work visas though!”

“I went first,” explained Ed. “She’s not talkative. Is the bar closed and only serving coffee?”

“Not at all,” said Jack, “you may find the local idea of customer service strange, but at least it’s not the fake corporate, have a nice day, I experienced in New York. This place is quiet till later this time of year.”

“I guess I’ll try the Irish black beer and a club sandwich,” said Bill. “I’ve not been in Ireland before.”

“No-one calls it black beer, it’s stout, porter or Guinness, though some like Murphy more than Guinness,” explained Jack. “There is also Beamish. Guinness is just the most common, but people here pretty much drink everything, it’s not at all the Tourist Board’s Guinness and Jameson Whiskey.”

Jack went with them to the bar. It was getting dark outside.

“I guess the girls are not here yet?” asked Ed.

Jack shook his head. He ordered a Jameson and Club ginger as well as the sandwich.

“I’ll bring over the sandwiches when they are done,” explained the barman.

The barman sounded Polish, or continental anyway, Jack thought.

They were not long seated when Ana and Greta came in. Ana, although Russian, looked like a tall blonde German or Scandinavian. Greta could have been from anywhere in Europe really and in comparison was a little nondescript, average height, medium length mousey hair, but looking a little athletic, as they all did other than Jack.

“Hi,” said Jack, “how was the trip?”

Ana and Greta sat at their table.

Ana shrugged; “OK.”

“Heathrow is madness!” Greta exclaimed. “In comparison I thought Shannon had closed for the night! The people from our flight seemed to be the only folk in the whole place!”

“There’s no table service,” said Bill. “You need to go to the bar and order anything.”

As if to prove Bill wrong, a young waitress came over and asked if they wanted anything. Or full à la carte in the restaurant.

“No, I will have a pint of the Guinness and the club sandwich,” said Ana.

“Me also,” agreed Greta.

She scribbled on her pad and went off. After what seemed like a long delay to the Americans (as the place was almost empty) the barman brought over four pints.

“You don’t drink it, Jack?” said Ana.

“No, I detest it. Lots of Irish people don’t drink it, but don’t let me put you off. It’s better than that paint stripper in Russia.”

Ana laughed. “You accuse Stolichnaya of having no flavour, yet you spoil excellent whiskey with ginger soda.”

She sipped the Guinness and wiped off the head from around her mouth. “Yes, perhaps this has too much flavour.”

“I think it’s fine,” said Greta, “at least like a proper German beer it has honest ingredients.”

The girl brought a basket of crisps and two large bowls of chips as well as the club sandwiches which were curiously thicker than the earlier order.

John Williams came in and joined them.

“We are all here now,” said John, “the only humans to return from visiting a starship.”

“That’s oddly phrased,” said Bill.

“How do we know who left?” John said. “We know about Mei Zhen Kelly, or Maisie Kelly as she seems to have preferred. Jack Casey says he’s fairly sure the emails he has are from her, on Caemoria, she’s in some sort of training college for people with special talents.”

“You suggesting they could have taken other people?” said Greta. “Alien abduction?”

“Would Maisie know, or tell us if she did?” said John. “She might not know if other people were taken. At any rate till a Valkyrie is built we and Maisie belong to an exclusive club. I envy Maisie. The first human to travel on a starship and walk on an alien world.”

“We don’t know exactly what Maisie has said,” said Ana. “We rely on you, Jack Casey, decrypting her message. The UN and Solar Alliance seem unwilling to force you to give up the keys.”

“She must surely feel very isolated?” suggested Greta.

“She seems to have been quite a loner,” Jack insisted, “and is apparently settling in very happily. I think Maisie would know if there was anyone else. She’s the only reason they came, unlikely as that might seem. I’m convinced about what the aliens call Talent. Plonnis writes that they will send diplomats, a proper First Contact team, once they are surer of our intentions and their own safety. They certainly wanted Maisie to leave voluntarily.”

“Also why are we here,” said Ana, “no other Cosmonauts are here?”

“I’m pretty sure that we are here because there are no other Astronauts here,” said John, “because we are the only ones back from the alien starship. Notice that anyone with more than trivial contact is here. The UN is completely out of the loop.”

“So you think we are just here to cool our heels and do nothing?” said Ed.

“I do. I think we will get a ride on a Valkyrie, but it may be the last one leaving for Caemoria,” said John.

“The last one?” exclaimed Greta.

“They are not building only six. It’s a production line. At least six will go to Caemoria, but they will keep building. Anything else would be worse for the world economy now that almost all military and space budgets are diverted to making and launching parts for the Valkyries. Already the rumour of the cheap fusion power and synthetic LPG is disrupting the markets. Cleverly the big oil companies saw it and are major investors in the Solar Alliance Fusion Power division. The Arabs, British and Venezuela will howl when the oil and gas prices completely collapse. It’s incredible what has been achieved in two years.”

“We can’t just keep building starships to keep people in jobs,” said Bill.

Ana laughed. “You did it with the US Military for a hundred years,” she said. “It nearly bankrupted us keeping up. It’s preferable to the Military budgets. You can always start recycling Nimitz aircraft carriers if we get short of steel!”

“John,” said Greta, “you obviously have arranged this meeting with Jack. What is going on?”

“Who would you trust more to keep the peace, not exploit people and avoid pointless wars, our own governments or the aliens we met?”

“That’s easy,” drawled Bill. “Can we have a hard question? Our Governments are the weasels. Presumably they are behind the Solar Alliance to sideline the UN.”

“Yes, but which Governments?” said John.

Jack coughed.

“Go ahead Jack,” said John.

“You folk are the Astronauts and Cosmonaut,” explained Jack. “I’m a civil servant. Or I was. It seems I work now for the Solar Alliance and not the Irish Department of Foreign Affairs. Certainly I signed my exit papers and resignation and I get twice as much pay now. We practically wrote manuals on weaselling. Though at least Ireland hasn’t actually gone to war for a long time. We like to pretend we are neutral, but it’s not actually in the Constitution.” He took out a scrap of paper. “I’d bet that though the Directorate is USA, Russia, China, India, South Korea, Japan, Israel, Canada, Australia, South Africa, Brazil and a bunch of European countries with ostensibly one regular vote and one reserve vote only used if there is a tie. The real decisions are probably made by inner group comprising of Russia, France, Germany, USA, Israel and China. We are talking hawks and serious paranoia. How else did they manage to divert the military budgets? You seen the armaments specification for the Valkyries? Possibly a clue in the name too. You seen a crew roster? It’s like an Ohio Class Nuclear sub with a few scientists chucked in. Total complement is 236 but only 10 mission specialists, makes you wonder. However the real people in control seem to be broadly the EU, USA, Russia and China. Unlikely bedfellows.

“So the idea is that we try and find out exactly what the agenda is and try to influence people to avoid anything stupid happening,” Jack said.

“I can help also,” said Greta. “I know the Deputy Director of Engineering, Karl Kasianenko.”

“How is that possible?” said Ana. “Do you really mean personally, he’s Russian? Though I’m Russian and have rarely spoken with him.”

“Yes, but his mother was East German, like me. Though he was doing his Masters when I started my Graduate course, I knew him quite well then.”

“You dated?” suggested Ed.

“For a while.”

“Does anyone know anyone else here in the upper echelons personally?” Jack asked.

There was a pause.

“I don’t really know anyone senior though I have met some of the original Geneva UN folk before, during and after the aliens in the Flitter met them,” said Jack. “Those meetings went badly.”

“How so?” said Ed.

“The aliens had no interest in discussing anything, they only wanted to find Maisie and convince her to go to Circle College. Naturally they explained nothing about Talent. There is a protocol for first contact, but for a combination of reasons none of it was invoked and it seems they seriously annoyed the Caemorians.”

“Let me guess,” said Bill, “the Intergal One are the Galactic equivalent of a bunch of Hippies in a VW camper truck? They seemed too unstructured.”

“That would about cover it,” said Jack. “Wildgrave Plonnis wasn’t well pleased with how they managed first contact. It seems though that the Intergal One starship went nearly 100,000 light years distance to get here purely to pick up Maisie, then nearly 80,000 light years to drop her and others off. The Circle College and Caemoria in reality had to bribe the Galactic Council to re-route the starship. Maisie has mentioned at least two giant way stations moving in deep space at the velocity starships are at when they jump. So these are used to transfer people between starships with no delay.”

“So are they short of starships?” said Greta. “It seems strange that they had to use the Intergal One.”

“They won’t say how many there are,” said Jack, “though Maisie says the College has their own starships. The issue seems to be that re-routing one could be 4 months to 8 months extra delay compared with one already in deep space. No-one at the way stations wanted to add another 14 to 16 months to their schedule. Also the Intergal One isn’t a typical starship either. There seems to be some strange politics too. The Intergal One is the only starship controlled by the Galactic Council. Everyone seems to use the Caemorian language, Karndic. The original sentient people on Caemoria, or humans as the aliens insist on translating, are the Karnd.”

He pinched one of Greta’s club sandwiches and ate it.

“Go on,” insisted Greta, “also order your own sandwiches!”

“I gave an estimate to the Solar Alliance Directorate,” said Jack, “based on the number of Homeworlds, the durability, the more than about 5000 years of starships and Maisie’s comments. There must be hundreds of thousands of starships and dozens of way stations. The Intergal One is probably the only one designed especially to be a city in space and especially for intergalactic travel. I think they probably have starships that could travel to other Galaxies as easily or easier than our Valkyries can traverse the Milky Way. Most of their starships seem to be more like 7 km to 9 km long rather than the nearly 13 km of the Intergal One and have less than 500 people, sometimes less than 100, orientated to carrying larger Flitters used for freight. The starships never orbit. They drop the Flitters, and take on previously dropped Flitters. The next starship picks up the dropped Flitters. So the starship crew are families that live on board and rarely go down below to a home world. The Flitters as a group are run by other families or clans. What they call Spacer Culture. Some Flitters and starships are government owned or owned by large organisations.”

“I know we figured out the jump drive,” suggested Ana, “though the power sources they have seem infeasibly small and incomprehensible backing up Jack’s claim of Talent.”

“Softly,” urged Ed, “that’s secret.”

“It’s getting late,” John said, “well, maybe not that late, but we have been travelling. Where are you staying, Jack?”       

“Here,” said Jack, “room 31, but I’m moving out soon. I’ve no intention of spending the next few years in Shannon or in a hotel. You’d be wise to do the same for your sanity.”

“Shannon isn’t so bad,” said John.

“Perhaps, but it’s not far to Limerick,” insisted Jack.

“What about Mei Zhen Kelly?” said Ana.

“Maisie, not Mei Zhen. Maisie is exasperating,” said Jack. “She’s obviously not academically stupid, nor I think trying to hide anything, she’s just totally focused on college life, her new friends more than anything. In a strange reversal of her past academic career, they value social interaction more than academic progress. It’s not a university, they have those separately. I don’t think anything is being kept secret from her. Much of what I have passed on simply isn’t believed anyway. The only aspect of Talent that’s taken seriously is whatever it is that makes the fusion orbs in the sample sync-sats work. I have seen the healing or Mage Talent, also what is translated as Warlock Talent and the Mentalist power, Empaths and Telepaths. I’m inclined to believe Maisie as I saw her boil a kettle without plugging it in. So I accept there are seven circles or types of Talent as Maisie claims.”

“That contravenes the laws of thermodynamics,” insisted Ed.

“Not really, as she was transferring the power from the household wiring,” said Jack.

“I guess that’s just a little less disturbing,” John admitted, “we’ll chat more soon.”

“It disturbed the Circle College people,” said Jack. “No-one there uses electrical power directly.”

“They say no-one is inclined to try opening an orb. It would indeed appear to be a piece of captive star,” said Ana. “This so called Talent is the only explanation so far.”

“I remember you telling me that,” said Jack.

“We don’t want to be the equivalent of savages taking the damping rods out of a nuclear power station,” emphasised John. “No-one is going to take apart the sync-sat fusion power unit.”

“I’m going to bed,” said Jack. “I drove from Dublin today.”

Fred bumped into Jack in the Foyer and passed him a phone.

8: The Start

Speculation

Speculators don’t care if shares are going up or down. What they want is to know when the shares are at the top and about to fall (sell), or at the bottom and about to rise (buy). This can be manipulated by ‘Naked Shorting’. Futures and currency exchange rates can be manipulated too. How do the aliens manage without all these instruments?

—Craig

Gemma Stewart watched from her office window. She could just see the disused hanger and the edge of the airport. Men seemed to be attacking a fence. She called Wendy, P.A. to Viktor Kolsnoi, the Security Director.

“Wendy, is security concerned about the airport perimeter beside us?”

“Is that Gemma?” asked Wendy. “No, probably not about the work. We are renting the disused hanger there and converting it to a theatre, except I’m sure they really mean a cinema or something. So we can all watch the first launches.”

“Yes, sorry,” said Gemma. “I’m Gemma Stewart in Archives.”

The next day all the SA staff in Shannon went to the hanger. It was the start of the lift. The end wall was a massive screen. A high power video projector showed a launch pad in Japan lit by floodlights. The side of the screen showed thumbnails of the other three launch pads and the Darmstadt control centre. The four launches were a success. Everyone cheered. In sequence came five launches in China at three locations, South Korea had three launches at two locations, three in India at three sites, Kenya two at one site. The USA had six at three locations co-ordinated and controlled by NASA. Four at Arianespace in Kourou, French Guiana, Brazil two, finally one each at Curaçao and Suriname.

Finally board chairman Konrad Adler came on the screen. “Today we started the lift with 31 launches, more in a day than any year. We are adding more launch pads till there are over sixty in use every 2 to 4 days, perhaps eventually 750 to 1,100 launches a month. The Baikonur, Russian, more northern USA, Algerian, Australian and Zaire launchpads will be for emergencies and backup. We will have launch failures, so there is spare capacity. The modules in Low Earth Orbit can be assembled in less than 10 days, like Lego. The Ion drive will move an assembled Valkyrie to a higher orbit as the next one is assembled. Perhaps in less than 40 days, our first Valkyrie class starship will be ready for deep space. It will cover a great distance in slightly more than a year and a half, much more than 20 times the distance of Voyager 1 since 1977, about 16 light days, reaching a speed of about 16430km/s with acceleration of 0.65 m/s². That will use over a thousand tonnes of water converted to plasma. Then it will jump about 250 to 600 light years distance based on decisions made on board using Pulsars for navigation. After two weeks it will jump back and signal success. At least we hope they do!”

The launches had also been carried on TV channels worldwide.

* * *

Jerry handed her the reports. She leaned back and looked over the San Jose skyline. The gamble of getting into electric cars, her eKar brand, and space launches via Advanced Space Projects as soon as she realised what the Intergal One would mean was paying off.

“Conclusion, Jerry?” insisted Heidi.

“The 5% of the income from 8,000 launches a year will be phenomenal and even outstrip our income from advertising on our social media sites.”

Heidi continued to stare out the window.

“You don’t think you are spending too much on lobbying and politics?” asked Jerry, expecting some response to his comment.

“No, it’s an investment, it will ensure that we continue to do what we like with user data on the Internet to sell adverts and that we get better subsidies for the electric vehicles.”

* * *

Fred stopped the recording of the Solar Alliance Directorate meeting and read the transcript on his PC screen.

Certain people, companies and Governments had started selling Sterling. No-one was holding Roubles anyway, so ironically Russia was only losing some income due to falling oil and gas prices, more than offset by increasing income from the Solar Alliance in euros and Dollars.

He checked the euro. It was rising against a basket of currencies. The ECB must be desperate to be offering a 0% rate. The Bank of England was offering 10%, likely not enough he thought. The US Dollar was sliding slightly, then jumping up, probably due to uncertainty. Obviously even the dogs in the streets were convinced something serious was happening. Despite the current demand, oil and gas prices were falling. Solar Alliance shares soared as there were almost none on offer. On his advice the computer people next door and the yacht brokers had already switched all assets and pricing to Euros. He suspected their Sterling bank accounts only had overdrafts now. Obviously everyone in the Solar Alliance at the top had been warning their friends, who in turn warned their friends.

* * *

Jack’s second phone rang. “It’s me. No names or places,” said Fred, “just to remind you, top up at a different place each time and only use cash. I hope too, you have no Sterling or anything valued in it. I think already you can’t afford this inquiry.”

“I thought you would help out of civil duty, saving the human race,” quipped Jack.

“Yes, maybe,” agreed Fred, “or I’d not have taken it on. I’ll have expenses. Also Sterling is taking a massive hit already, despite this they won’t join the euro. See the news. Watch futures markets in things that need a lot of electricity.” Fred ended the connection.

Jack put CNN on the TV and considered Fred Brown’s comments.

The success of the new fusion reactor on the French-German border near Alsace was being analysed. The ticker was summarising the performance. They were sufficiently confident that conventional power stations had been shut down and Thunder, the largest ever tokamak, was supplying in excess of 17 GW to the French and German grids, or at least that’s what they claimed. Someone had been very confident. The idea of the tokamak was Russian from the 1950s, the TOroidal’naya KAmera s MAgnitnymi Katushkami or TOroidal’naya KAMera s AKksial’nym magnitnym polem. It had always been suspected that to get a net output it had to be really large, but funding had only been for stepwise increases in size. Till now. Some alien mathematics had been the final major step, though it would have been commercial eventually.

* * *

Jack mused about Gemma Stewart’s group, strangely called Archive Services and reporting to the Director of Communications. The incessant questioning by Gemma and her staff of himself and five that visited the alien starship seemed to have ended. In reality they researched everything to do with the aliens, they were not any kind of library or archive service. Gemma was fascinated by what the aliens called Talent. They searched for evidence of it on Earth in the past, so far with no results. Certainly they had experts searching scriptures, histories, myths and legends. Some stories were suggestive. Explanations from Maisie about Talent had not been very useful to the Archive group. Was Joan of Arc a deranged mentalist? Were some healers really healing mages? How could it work at all if it was true that there was no genetic or biological basis for Talent? Where did come from? The Wizards sounded like Telekinetic or Poltergeist type activity. Certainly there was absolutely no evidence at all except for Maisie of any kind of paranormal activity. All tests showed that alleged telepathy, dowsing and all other psychic abilities to be random, self delusion or stage magician tricks. No one had ever claimed the million dollars offered by James Randi.

What was traded and moved by starships? It had to be very valuable and the starship travel very much cheaper than they imagined or what was the point? You wouldn’t ordinarily transport raw materials, food or manufactured goods. Talent was rare and couldn’t be manufactured, could the Solar Alliance be seriously considering kidnapping some people with Talents? Perhaps art or the equivalent of rare spices. Some plants might not be easy to grow on another planet.

Why was Karndic a sort of universal language, yet the aliens wouldn’t give them a Karndic-English dictionary? Maisie obviously had one, but she claimed it couldn’t be emailed. Jack and Gemma both agreed this had to be some sort of prohibition rather than a technical difficulty. So far all they had the alphabet, the number system (conveniently Octal) and a few nouns. Mostly courtesy of Maisie, but also some recorded dialogue by the away team. The Archive section worked on that too. But without any Rosetta type texts it was nearly impossible, recordings of voice or text in Karndic were too limited in size for any statistical analysis. The Wildgrave Plonnis then had said that currently a Karndic-English dictionary required Crystals or Slabs, it wasn’t currently available as file or database that could be exchanged. Then Jack told Plonnis that they had five alien tablets, the Slabs, already. Plonnis then said he would investigate what could be achieved without local Crystal net infrastructure. They then pointed out that the Intergal One had left LEO satellites to implement a low density Crystal net. There was no reply. The obvious explanation was that while it was policy normally for everyone to learn Karndic and have Crystal net access, yet it was being withheld at present, for whatever reason.

Finally Plonnis responded, “We will send ambassadors and enable the Crystal net access when the situation is stable.” This had taken months due to the message latency of nearly 25 days each way, due to the distance of a sync-sats from a star of about 12 light days.

* * *

Prime minister Jim Finley attended an emergency conference and spoke darkly of his predecessor’s mismanagement of the crisis, in mitigation of the sacrifice of the British people all electricity, oil, gas and petrol prices would be halved. Construction of a new inter-connector to France was complete. There would be a phased close down of all UK coal, gas and oil power stations. Eventually the ordinary nuclear power stations when they reached end of life. A new 25 GW fusion generator complex able to power the entire British Isles was nearing completion in the Midlands. This was in excess of current base load.

Over 80 GW of fusion power came online on the US grid the next day. Previously the USA total capacity was about 1200 Giga Watts but 30% of this was already nuclear or hydro and other renewables. Nearly 10% of the approximately 840 GW fossil fuel was gone. Nuclear waste from the conventional nuclear power stations could be treated by the fusion power stations to generate more power and make the waste safer.

The American President explained the plans for the future; “Just 20 to 40 more Thunder Tokamaks and all fossil fuel generation will be gone in less than two years. We are entering a new era, for us, our children and those to follow!” he exclaimed. “Cleaner air, an end to Global warming, almost free energy, Interstellar exploration, trade with alien cultures we can’t imagine. The end of cancer and most diseases once we obtain the alien medical technology. The Solar Alliance has brought the world a new age, a new order.”

Jack thought it strange that he credited the Solar Alliance and not the Intergal One. Absolutely no-one in the media was discussing the real reason why the aliens had come, because so far it was still officially secret that they had taken Mei Zhen ‘Maisie’ Kelly from Dublin, though there were rumours.

The electricity prices were reduced again in the UK.

Speedy transition was made worldwide by co-siting with existing large plant and switching the steam feeds to the turbines from the coal or oil fired boilers to the Tokamak heat exchangers and adding additional steam turbines.

Brazil, Chile, Argentina, Venezuela, Canada and Israel applied for EU membership. Turkey’s application was still on hold and now without NATO and US pressure might remain so.

Mexico and Panama signed special agreements with the USA and pegged their currencies to the Dollar. The US ended Cuban sanctions.

Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan announced a mutual defence pact.

India applied to join the ASEAN block.

Sporadic shelling, missiles and gunfire was observed on various borders and internally in many Middle Eastern countries, though Jack reflected that such activity occurred periodically anyway.

The UN protested to the Solar Alliance that by having rail gun weapons and nuclear missiles active on a Valkyrie in Low Earth Orbit they were breaking UN treaties and international law. This however had the effect that was desired. Border incidents in the Middle East ceased when countries perused the list of supposed controlling countries in the Solar Alliance, Even a conventional missile or hybrid coil-railgun slug from orbit wasn’t something anyone wanted. The Iranians and North Koreans did some sums involving hypersonic lumps of iron from orbit and deep installations and called in the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) inspectors.

The Solar Alliance admitted that the Valkyrie Class starships would all be weaponized at early stages of production. The International Law and UN treaties forbidding this obviously needed changed for the reality. The Russians, Europeans, China and USA proposed amendments of the treaties. No-one knew what was in our sector of the Galaxy. The aliens had jumped across it, we would have many jumps through it. We even needed orbital and planetary defences as who knows who might visit us next? Could use of Jump drive be detected?

9: Gemma

“So tell me again, Jack,” said Gemma, “the whole story.”

“From when I met the aliens at JFK till I left them and Maisie heading off in the taxi?”

“Yes.”

Jack groaned. He leaned over closer to Gemma across the table.

“What about you ask Maisie?” he whispered, “or at least see her emails. I really can’t believe I can tell you anything new that I forgot.”

“But—”

“No!”

He got up and beckoned. He could see Gemma was puzzled.

“It’s getting late,” he insisted. “Why don’t we go eat early and discuss this at my apartment in Limerick? You don’t want me to rush, you want some detail I left out by accident?”

He could see she was hesitating.

“Yes.” She shut down the recording.

“This isn’t as nice as Shannon!” exclaimed Gemma as they walked from the car park.

“Not this actual location, that’s true,” explained Jack. “The night life, pubs, clubs, restaurants and shops are better. There is a better library, museum, theatre, cinemas, art gallery, King John’s Castle and bookshops.”

“You go clubbing?” Gemma raised her eyebrows and voice.

“Actually I only go to the supermarket, some specialist shops and the bookshops. Mostly I read in the evening.”

“Books are good,” she agreed.

He suspected that might the only interest in common, but it depended on the kind of books she liked. He thought he was beginning to know her a little with so many one to one meetings going over everything to do with the aliens. His impression was that she was very broad in her reading. She wasn’t stereotypical English either, with her Scottish background.

Gemma sat down in Jack’s lounge. It had the kitchen at one end and a desk as well as the settee and TV. There was silence for a moment.

Jack’s laptop was at his desk. He popped out the hard drive caddy.

“Now were would you hide the important hard drive?” he said, “so crafty spies can’t find it.”

“Anywhere that is easily accessible is impossible, they would find it. I thought the supposed emails from Maisie had been at least partially re-written by you.”

“She’s entitled to some privacy, I only removed the personal bits, though you’ll laugh at her idea of personal,” explained Jack. “She insisted I re-write anything I would give to others. Something about making it harder to crack the key.”

“I’ve wondered why the management didn’t insist on you giving up the keys originally,” mused Gemma. “She’s quite correct, if one has enough plain text that’s known to be exactly what’s encrypted, then the key can be derived.”

“It worries me,” agreed Jack, “they asked periodically, then stopped. I give reasons why not. Does it mean they have the key already?”

“I honestly don’t know,” said Gemma. “I think they decided long ago that she wasn’t really very important, being stuck in with a load of kids in a special college she can’t leave. The Wildgrave Plonnis is the important contact and now he always at least responds, even though it’s rarely with the answer wanted. They are happy to have the keys for that. I believe Plonnis, or someone reporting to him, did clarify some points to do with fusion and the jump drive.”

“Ah, that’s why they stopped pestering me when Maisie sent the keys for encrypted communication with Plonnis,” Jack realised. “So how do you know about encryption?”

“My previous job was in GCHQ,” she explained, “not cracking actual codes but argot, slang and dialect. People think that they can hide information that way. So they need special linguists.”

“You’re a spy!”

“No, no,” insisted Gemma, “I was a language specialist, helping protect the UK from terrorists, drug dealers and other international criminals. I only know some basics about encryption.”

“I guess that makes sense,” admitted Jack. “We used code to hide information from terrorists. We assumed that GCHQ intercepted all landlines, mobile, fax and email. Anything important in the DFA was sent by hand.”

He smiled at her, to show he wasn’t too perturbed, he was pleased to see her smile back. He thought her ready agreement to come with him was a positive sign.

“I know it’s a silly question as I signed the Irish equivalent of your Official Secrets act, but what did you do, in general in GCHQ?”

“Rarer undocumented dialects and languages that people might have been using to obfuscate their messages, I did explain, but I think you were tired. I did avoid big words like philologist.”

“I can see why you are on the team,” said Jack. “Any progress?”

“It’s very frustrating,” said Gemma, “as we know so much, but have no Rosetta. We haven’t enough recordings of spoken Karndic to have much idea. Some text from the Slabs and technical documents, which were all transferred as images. Also early radio messages are very obviously poor English Grammar, potentially showing Karndic grammatical structure as are early sync-sat emails. Actually we think about a third of the emails are likely an assistant or deputy writing on Plonnis’s behalf. In summary, it’s not exactly tonal, there are similar number of phonemes to most European languages. Maisie seems to have confirmed that to you in passing. We have a few nouns, the grammar may be straightforward. Obviously they have some clever way of tackling unknown languages we don’t know.”

“Why?”

“Because within weeks of being able to monitor us they are transmitting some not bad English, which rapidly improves over the month. I know you gave official reports, but you spent some days being interrogated before we got you?”

“Yes,” said Jack, “till I felt sucked dry. I can understand the suspicion it was somehow a hoax. Their English was more like people after a year of professional training, mostly, but I more wonder how much telepathy and other Talents they have are involved. The two with ‘Talents’ – Jack made wiggles with his hands to suggest quotes – were very much better. They could pick up Maisie’s thoughts at great distance, which actually seriously confused them. It seems the Talent anyone with Talent sees the kind of most clearly is their own. They were adamant that Maisie had no such Talent at all. She wasn’t at all what they expected to find.”

“You always call her Maisie, never Mei Zhen?”

“I didn’t quite understand why,” said Jack, “but she was very antagonistic about being called Mei Zhen, though Maisie is only a nickname, she insists on it, so the aliens only call her Maisie.”

“It’s not uncommon even for actual Chinese people to adopt an English name,” suggested Gemma, “and really Maisie is only biologically half Chinese, so she’s otherwise bound to be quite like other people from the well off areas of south Belfast. She lived just off the Malone road till she went to University and school was the rather posh nearby Victoria College.”

“It was obvious she was a Northerner and no more from Dublin or Irish than you are. I’ll make dinner.”

“You can cook?” she said.

“You can decide when you try it,” he replied.

“I thought I was going to read the emails and later we’d order a take out.”

“Never mind that now,” he said, “we can talk while I prepare, but you mustn’t help, so you sit on the soft chair there, no sneaking into the kitchen cum dining area. You have me at a disadvantage, you have everyone’s personal records?”

Jack chopped vegetables. He had his back to her and resisted the temptation to look.

“I’m not very exciting,” she insisted. “I was a lecturer for years before the GCHQ job, I didn’t even stop work very long when Isabelle was born, that was maybe a mistake. We married young and he insisted my career was too important, but actually he was probably more worried I might give up work. He was a sculptor and not very successful, which is a polite way of saying he made no money. His sister helped out with Isabelle, though he kept the degree of her interest and ambitions secret for over a year. My daughter irrationally blamed me when he died of blood poisoning, probably an infection from a cut made with a wood carving tool. He carved wood from bogs as well as working with stone and casting. Well, he only cast once, too expensive. His sister adopted Isabelle, she and her husband can’t have children. We’d separated and he was living with his sister and Isabelle. God, I must sound callous, but the fact is we had a whirlwind romance, got married and had nothing in common, for whatever reason he loved his daughter, well he wanted me out of the house. He and his sister alienated Isabelle from me.”

“You don’t seem like a callous person,” said Jack. “Was it long ago?”

“Some years ago. I got the job at GCHQ and sold the house. Crazy that I got the house, tools and art and that woman got my daughter. She had a good lawyer. I moved away. I’ve not seen Isabelle since the funeral. I feel guilty about it all, but somehow I was never in control of my life till I worked for GCHQ.”

Jack didn’t know what to say, so said nothing.

Soon the dining area had candles. There was white wine. The dinner was roast potatoes, mushrooms, peas, roast parsnips, lightly cooked Julienne carrots and lamb.

“This looks OK,” said Gemma and laughed nervously, “you trying to seduce me?”

“It’s only frozen lamb chops,” he replied. “I think we can get to know each other a bit better without either of us attempting seduction.”

“They aren’t frozen now,” insisted Gemma poking one.

“Perhaps we should say grace, give thanks,” said Jack. “You’re the guest so maybe if you would like to say something?”

“I’m not a Catholic or very religious,” said Gemma.

“I’m not very religious either.”

Gemma gave thanks for their safety and the food.

Jack poured the Chilean wine and they ate in silence for a while.

“I need a Karndic-English Dictionary,” she said. “Actually there is also a Karndic-Lorm dictionary. Lorm is more complicated than Chinese I think, but I could be wrong. Just think if I could learn Lorm and make a Lorm-English Dictionary, it’s the second most common language. Though probably far behind Karndic. Or Imagine a Latin-Karndic Dictionary, or Italian.”

“I can see you have the rest of your life mapped out,” Jack said wryly. “Time for desert.”

Jack watched Gemma taste the ice-cream.

“What is it?” said Gemma. “The ice-cream, something alien?”

“It’s goat milk, no adulterating vegetable fat either,” he said.

“It grows on you,” she said, “surely you didn’t make the pastry, you buy Jus-rol?”

“I do if I’m in a hurry, but this is pastry mix I made last week.”

She got up and checked the bin.

“You didn’t trust me,” said Jack.

“I just never knew a man that made pastry before.”

“Lots do.”

“Yes, Jack,” said Gemma, “but they are working as chefs. Not in the Irish Department of Foreign Affairs.”

“There were all sorts in there,” he said. “They are considering asking me back I think. However, I’m not sure about becoming an Ambassador. Especially 80,000 light years away and single.”

“Do you think I’m callous?”

“About your daughter?” he replied after a pause. “I don’t think so, I’m surprised. I thought we were getting to know each other, that’s why I thought you’d like to come visit. How long ago was it?”

“I was doing anthropology and languages at Uni and we decided to get married. It was stupid, even though I owned a house. However we agreed I should continue my career. I was only 22 and still doing my Masters when Isabelle somewhat unexpectedly came. Then I did my PhD and got a job at Uni. So nearly 15 years ago. I’ve wondered since did he just marry me to have a free studio, free food and occasional sex, though he did care about Isabelle.”

“But how long ago did your husband die?”

“Um,” she looked down. “I think near six years ago. We’d hardly spoken for years, Isabelle was fond of her aunt and her dad and insisted on living with them. He lived with his sister and her husband the last two years before he died.”

“I don’t think you are callous,” murmured Jack. “Perhaps in hindsight it’s easy to think you were foolish, but it might have worked out differently.”

“I’d met his family and his older married sister,” said Gemma. “I knew what his family was like, sometime later I felt she’d stolen my baby. I was stupid and naive, I went out to work when Isabelle was a few months old, her aunt and my husband in the house all day. Then she was in bed an hour after I came home.”

“Well,” Jack looked her in the eye, “whatever you did then, I don’t think it means you’re being callous now. Everybody does things that either don’t work out or seem stupid later.”

* * *

Jack fetched a metal BBQ skewer from the kitchen and pushed it into the floppy drive opposite the caddy bay. He powered up the laptop and it booted. He logged in.

“I got this from a friend. X-Ray will show up the hidden drive, but it’s booby trapped and encrypted apart from a small boot partition. Pushing in the normal caddy switches the drive connections back.”

“Why the paranoid security?”

“Let’s sit down for a moment, Gemma,” he suggested. “What do you know about the goals of our employer? What are your goals? Who actually controls the Solar Alliance? Why am I and the team that visited the alien starship sitting doing nothing here in Shannon, doing nothing except being interviewed over and over again by you?”

“Is that why you asked me here, Jack?”

“No, I asked you here because… I think we can be friends?”

“Yes, Jack. The last question is easy. My own goal is simple. I’m excited to be studying the language and culture of the aliens. I think I’m very well qualified to do it. No-one outside the Solar Alliance has the access I have to the information. It’s an undreamed of once in the history of our species opportunity. You and the others are the only people that have met the aliens outside of a formal meeting, or for any length of time. The merest nuance that doesn’t seem important to any of you is important. That’s why I’ve often had all of you chat about the aliens as a group.”

“Do you see them as threat?”

“No, though it’s obvious that there were three different groups,” explained Gemma excitedly. “The actual people running the Intergal One, the employed crew, of which Juili is our best example and the Circle College folk, the people with the mysterious Talent. Virona seems to have been both crew and a graduate or whatever of the college. Now since we have the emails of the Wildgrave Plonnis of the Caemorian Empire and the Galactic Council, it seems that the Caemorians are the dominant faction though I can’t figure the relationship between Circle College, the Talent, and Caemoria. You alone have had serious demonstrations of Talent, at least three kinds.”

“I suspect Caemoria produces more people with Talent and that is why Circle College is there. Certainly seven worlds, the big six which includes Caemoria, and the Klah produce a larger proportion of people with Talent.”

“That seems reasonable.”

“So you don’t know who our real bosses are or what they are planning?”

“There is the official board, but I’m sure there must be an inner council of some kind, likely the superpowers. They plan to make money from the fusion power to finance our interstellar exploration and contacts with aliens?”

“You are, I think, a little naive politically, Gemma—”

“I suppose you ought to be more expert, though you were never a politician. I’d guess some civil servants are more expert at politics than the elected people.”

“Yes,” agreed Jack, “certainly the visible board only rubber stamps policy. Konrad, for instance, doesn’t decide anything, he’s just chairing the meetings and communicating the decisions to us. I think though the real decision makers have factions and only one is interested in the aliens, one is only interested in money and the other, well they are the worrying ones, they want to use the existence of the aliens as a lever to more political power. You are probably on the side of the aliens and ordinary people here, extrapolating from how you interrogate us?”

“I’d never thought of it in those terms,” she mused. “You’re right, I’m anxious to understand the aliens and benefit all of us. My job gives me unique access to do it.”

“I believe you!” he moved to the desk. “Time to see the files, the Circle College may not be what you expect. Also Maisie is considerably more naive about politics than you, at least she was. She seems to be changing.”

He showed Gemma the files to read and unlocked his password wallet.

“The password wallet isn’t very secure.”

“More secure than my physical diary which I’m sure has been checked. Where could I hide written keys? If someone found that disk and bypassed the booby trap it’s game over anyway? Have a read and see. Actually there is nothing important, all that would be lost is Maisie’s privacy. I’m not being paranoid. You keep your eyes and ears open at work. You know our head of security is ex Russian SVR, even back to KGB days? Why have an Israeli civil servant from their Finance Ministry on the Solar Alliance board and in charge here? She’s a pretty strange Finance ministry civil servant, but then Israelis face unique threats. Some people controlling the Solar Alliance are worried about something. I doubt Ilania is any regular civil servant. She’s probably been picked as the least likely to support the aims of the World Democratic Council, who seem anti-Semitic.”

~

Gemma quickly concluded that not only did twenty-four year old Maisie look like thirteen or younger as Jack had claimed, but that she wrote very like a young teenager too. Though the only recent photograph had been taken by someone where she’d worked. There was one taken at the university and the one on file used in her passport. Despite spanning from thirteen to over twenty-three, they looked identical.

It was like reading ‘What Katy Did’, an erratic journal of her entire Apprentice Talent training. She had sent all of the journal entries as zip files with other random texts then encrypted each overall email. So all the emails had been very much larger than they looked because the zip compression worked well on large text files. She had always included a public message for paraphrasing and distribution. She obviously knew about encryption and security. It was puzzling, because as Jack had explained it was more personal than secret. It did paint a more detailed picture of college life, but nothing that the Solar Alliance would be interested in. No technology, economics or politics not already in the public material. Why had she written it to a man she’d only met only for one evening? Perhaps simply the desire to tell someone. She’d only sent trivial short emails to Sharon, the receptionist where she’d worked, that had shared her apartment and now rented it.

Jack put the news on low while Gemma went back to reading. After about an hour she stopped.

“Can we talk?” said Gemma.

“Sure.” Jack turned off the TV. “Have a cup of something,” he urged, “or some wine.”

“She has practically been sending you a book, it’s a sort of journal, a diary.”

“Only the beginning is like a personal journal. Later she gets cross, then there is a gap and much less personal communication.

“We should discuss it in detail,” said Gemma. “I can see what you mean, the Circle College is like high school, it’s for kids! It’s not a college as in university! She’s embarrassed about it. That’s why it’s private and encrypted! They start age ten to fourteen depending on when Talent is discovered. Very basic education outside of the Talent stuff. She never hinted at this to Sharon or her solicitor.”

“They have the equivalent of Universities and specialist third level in the Guilds. What do you think the main purpose of the Circle College is?”

“It’s to keep the Talented away from society till they are safe to be let out?”

“Ah, you are an anthropologist!” Jack laughed. “It took me and Maisie a while to realise that.”

“The conversation and underlying near panic of Virona at Maisie’s flat makes more sense now. Why didn’t you say before?”

“I’d have had to explain why I guessed it, I wasn’t sure and really it’s not of any interest to the Solar Alliance.”

“Can I read more before I go?”

“Sure, I’ll read a book. Um, her solicitor?”

“She has emailed him a few times just to make sure he understands about her assets, she set up a canary, I think he has to email her at set intervals or she assumes all her assets have been seized. It’s not encrypted and most traffic in and out of N.I. is routinely captured.”

* * *

Much later he felt someone shaking his shoulder. He looked at Gemma.

“What is it.”

“I finished it, Jack,” she said. “Do you want to swap it back?”

He looked at the time. “It’s after 4 am!” he exclaimed. “I absolutely insist you take the spare room! How were you so long?”

“I read all the semi-random packing she added and re-read some of it,” explained Gemma. “I have more of an insight. I have studied psychology too, you need it for anthropology. It’s curious that the aliens are not so alien at all, not much more than some isolated group here. Now I see why they call us Tellurians in English and use human in English for all sentient species with tools and language. There may be nothing of interest to the Solar Alliance, but to an anthropologist, it’s like gold.”

He got up and took her by the hand and led her in.

“Do you want a pair of my pyjamas?”

“I don’t think so,” replied Gemma, “as it seems warm enough.”

He shut down the laptop, fitted the caddy, rebooted to change the BIOS HDD record, he’d been warned to not slip up on that, and shut down.

10: Greta

Karl met Greta outside the bank as she came out. “Guten Tag,” said Greta Schott.

“Guten Tag, Greta. Geht es ihnen gut?” said Karl Kasianenko.

They looked at each other and started at the same instant to talk, they laughed.

“Nach dir,” said Greta.

Karl noted the personal address. She remembered. He continued in German.

“You are looking well,” he said. “I saw you in the Board meeting.”

“Your accent is still fine after so many years in Russia,” said Greta.

“It is a long while,” said Karl. “Come, let me buy lunch, you can have Chinese, bar food with a beer or the fast food. Or if you have time we can go somewhere better, maybe a hotel.”

“Maybe some other time, for old time’s sake somewhere better would be a treat,” said Greta, “perhaps some Schwarzbier with a greasy pie at Knights.”

“If that’s what you like how come you are so trim?”

“I train hard,” she laughed. “I’m an Astronaut!”

“So you actually like the Guinness?”

“Yes, really.”

It was only a short walk down the mall to Knights.

“You know I was here before briefly?” said Karl. “Work experience with Aeroflot. This place was like a wind tunnel, no roof! It was before the wall came down.”

In Knights they decided on something a bit more posh than a greasy pie, they sat and ordered steak and chips. Greta got a half pint as she wasn’t sure how well the drink driving laws were enforced, but she was surprised that Karl ordered coffee.

“Kaffe?” she said. (They continued in German)

“I gave up the drink,” said Karl.

“Most un-Russian.”

“I’m very Russian about everything else, really,” said Karl. “My liver was suffering. It can get out of hand, my Russian father died of it. You aren’t having a pint?”

“I’m driving,” she said. “We don’t want trouble? So how is it going?”

“Amazing really,” said Karl. “We are even ahead! The Thunder Tokamak rather than 18 GW is able to produce up to 25 GW peak of electricity and easily over 20 GW. So the production lines are running flat out. The first in Alsace is on the grid at full power, that augers well for our Jump drive.”

“Not the 25 Gigawatts the UK government claims?”

“More like 20 GW, they will import any extra needed at peak times, their reactor will easily cover the base load. We are also ahead on renovating and upgrading launch sites. The Russian, Baikonur Kazakhstan, Algerian, South African and Australian sites will be backup only, We will only use the southern USA sites, Zaire, Kenya, Japan, India, China, South Korea and Kourou, French Guiana. Soon we will have more launch pads in Brazil, Curaçao and Surinam. About forty launch pads so about 10 to 20 per pad a month. It’s not so long ago that 10 launches a year globally was a lot. Probably they will add more. It’s not my worry!”

“So what is your worry?” said Greta.

“That we will seriously piss off the aliens,” said Karl. “I can’t see why we are sending six highly armed starships to Caemoria, or maybe five, it’s possible they will set off as soon as the first one completes the test pair of jumps. One or two would make the point we can travel. It seems too aggressive, also if Jack’s analysis is even half right it will be like a few monkeys waving sticks at the US Army. It’s so ridiculous that I wonder what it is we are really doing? Seriously I don’t have any worries about operations, it’s the managers below me that are probably losing sleep. I suppose my worry is that they won’t tell me about problems, but that’s a Soviet thing, it’s not too likely. What about you?”

“Me, I have nothing to do except tell Gemma and the rest in Archive Services over and over again every nuance of my visit to the alien starship. It’s like trying to convince the Stasi you’re innocent.”

“What was it like, really,” said Karl, “you know, personally, the official report I read, what was most strange?”

“Not the technology,” said Greta. She paused and thought about it. “You see, so many things the styling may change but it doesn’t tell you if the electronics is tubes, transistors, integrated circuits, only because you know already the big wooden radios with dentures are tube radios. A radio is a radio.”

“I don’t understand you,” said Karl.

“I mean the appearance is just often fashion. Unless you open it, you don’t know how it goes. So many things that did the same could be the same or different. The strangest thing was that they seemed so human, apart from appearance. The Slabs they gave us are like a tablet computer, I suppose I’ll never see it again.”

“I have the Slabs now,” said Karl. “We didn’t want to break one. One each will be on five Valkyries as they are communication devices, they are working with those LEO satellites. We still have no idea how they work, the Slabs or the Satellites. There is no circuit board or identifiable CPU as a separate part. We think the whole thing is like a giant multilayer chip. The satellites are almost certainly spying in some fashion. The Russians wanted them shot down till the Chinese offered to shoot down everyone’s satellites. However it’s hard to see that they can be gathering as much intel as we get on each other. The aliens, you say they are like humans?”

“That was the most disconcerting aspect,” said Greta, “if you closed your eyes they were humans with poor English. But not bad for 3 or 4 months with no teacher, they must have been doing nearly nothing else. Yet two of their ground party spoke no English? They couldn’t have learnt body language. Yet supposedly from about 80,000 light years away so much is the same. Shoulder shrugs, smiles, laughs. Head nod might mean yes or no though depending on species. They have extras, a whole system of gestures for speak, silence, your turn, I want in, take control, I give control, hello and goodbye. Very easy to learn. I suspect an artificial language of etiquette. Or perhaps originally for noisy markets, that’s what Gemma thinks. She is so frustrated that none of us knew anything about anthropology, psychology or languages.”

“I would have thought all that similarity would have eased tension?”

“I found it a bit spooky. Aliens ought to be properly alien!” said Greta.

“I expect you’ll be on a Valkyrie and meet them again,” said Karl, “perhaps we’ll find out if they really do have psychic powers.”

“I think very few have these Talents,” insisted Greta, “as they call them. Not most of those ones as they claim to be going to Andromeda. Jack says four aliens got off with Maisie Kelly at the way station. Jack says she claims she has no idea where the way stations are, that’s restricted to navigators and starship captains.”

“Anyway what about an evening at the theatre and meal?” said Karl.

Greta considered this for a moment.

“Just friends, I know we can’t wind back the clock,” he added when he sensed she was hesitating.

“Besides you are married, perhaps then we should organise some others too?” suggested Greta.

“Yes,” agreed Karl, “it’s a bit dull here in Shannon for many people. My wife and our two boys are in Moscow. She didn’t want to come. The boys are both getting married this year.”

“That’s why some of us took Jack’s advice and got apartments in Limerick city. It’s hardly London or Paris. But not too bad. There are only few places not safe to wander about in on your own late at night. Even then, Jack says it’s more likely a known local in feud that’s likely to be attacked.”

“So you hang about with Jack?” said Karl.

“Not especially, but somehow even a few days contact with the aliens changes your perspective,” said Greta. “So the six of us are somehow drawn together. Gemma sometimes has us together. We five astronauts or cosmonauts somehow appreciate the little crumbs of Caemorian and Circle College life that Jack shares with us from Maisie and Plonnis. It’s more personal than his reports printed by Archive services. Gemma in Archives and Jack though get on well, we think they, well it’s their own business. I know other people met the aliens that came to Earth, but not intimately like us six.”

“So you six and maybe three other bored women, ten of us for a night out?” said Karl. “Have you any suggestions?”

“I know Ilania Olmanski is one of the Directorate,” said Greta, “but she is here and friendly, she must be bored out of her mind at night, she’s not Orthodox and not as arrogant as I imagined an Israeli. Wendy is from Dublin, you know Viktor’s secretary? She’s very humorous, also we all know Gemma Stewart in Archive Services well. Actually I think Jack might be a little disappointed if Gemma wasn’t invited.”

“I know Wendy well,” said Karl. “She is amusing. It took Viktor some days to realise when she was pulling his leg. I have only briefly met Gemma, what does she do exactly, I mean her interests?”

“She is a serious scholar,” explained Greta, “reads classical Greek, Latin, Icelandic, old German, old English and more. The Archives people are all scholars, PhD types, though Gemma is the most qualified. I told you, she is expert in modern and old languages, anthropology and psychology. Jack is very bookish too. She is great fun, though not like Wendy.”

“Except if I belittle her skills?” said Karl.

“She can be a little fierce,” said Greta. “Jack and her can be entertaining with their arguments, but their arguments are a game I think. The whole Irish and English thing is a little strange too, though I begin to suspect she’s not stereotypically English and Jack is not the same as Irish people here in Shannon or Limerick.”

“OK, you invite Gemma and your band of alien fans and I will persuade Ilania and Wendy,” said Karl. “I enjoy Wendy’s company, nothing more. Next week we will go.”

“Karl,” said Greta, “I’m a big girl now, not the student any more. How much you like Wendy isn’t important to me. However it might be good not to annoy Viktor.”

“So we will have a good time,” said Karl. “Who knows perhaps HR will pay! Ilania could decide we need it, she could tell HR to pay. Anyway I must go back as unlike you I have lots of work. This is a better idea that you have, I’d not like anyone telling stories to my wife if we went out for an innocent meal on our own.”

“You’ll see my idea to invite Ilania will be fun!” said Greta. “Thanks for lunch.”

“I’m sorry none of you are scheduled for any space missions overseeing Valkyrie assembly,” said Karl. “Not the decision of anyone here, though no doubt Ilania had a vote. The board decided. Besides actually going on a Valkyrie trip will be the important mission!”

“Being stuck in a radioactive and poorly shielded Valkyrie for maybe 3 to 5 years actually isn’t so attractive, Karl,” explained Greta. “We have all been discussing alternate career possibilities for when the Solar Alliance loses interest in us, the traditional space industry will be gone when we get Flitters. The Valkyrie is dramatically different compared to any earlier spacecraft.”

“The habitat is well away from the reactors and well shielded from them,” insisted Karl.

“Not from solar radiation and cosmic rays,” said Greta. “No-one will want us parking broadside either, but then no-one will tell us where the way stations are or how many. Maisie has told us the names of two and nothing else.”

“We are pretty convinced that she doesn’t know.”

* * *

The Wildgrave offered to pay five times the cost, though only in Credits, for worldwide distribution of a TV channel. He promised there would be no propaganda or controversial content. They could put a delay and block it at any time. They’d pay for the staff to do that.

As the Solar Alliance or the launch companies could only buy fusion orbs, Flitters or anything from with the aliens using their Credits, and could only accept income, or spend credits using an alien Crystal or Slab, they got John Williams to accept Credits from the Caemorian Empire to pay for the TV distribution, he would be the last Slab owner to be sent to a Valkyrie. Plonnis assured them that many Crystals would be provided and John would be able to transfer Credits via the Crystal net even in space. The alien LEO satellite network opened a Ka band channel carrying video and subtitles. Various ground stations tracked this and fed it to various Geostationary Satellite TV distribution systems on Ku Band, C band and on various cable systems. Some countries declined to carry the content. Some attempted to jam it (as they were already doing with various channels, sometimes by using ground stations and transmitting on uplink channels). The deal was irresistible. For the ordinary public now blasé about CNN, CNBC and BBC World TV, it had major novelty value though the sound track had no dialogue, except for the singing. Gemma had a team recording it continuously and flagging anything of interest. She was delighted as all the other information about the aliens had been pumped dry. What the Caemorians called opera currently had the only Karndic dialogue. With the subtitles there was serious and fresh information about the language.

~

“Well, Craig,” said Fred, “that answers that, the aliens probably have been watching our channels since ever since the sync-sats entered service. Have you any idea how they stream video from 80,000 LY away?”

“The experts in the Solar Alliance think the sync-sat can’t be swapping data crystals more than a few times a day,” explained Craig, “certainly the secret analysis we obtained suggests the sync-sats or the data crystals could buffer weeks worth of video for many channels. The sync-sats connect by laser links from their LEO satellite constellation. They could be analysing almost everything that’s in the clear and probably they can decrypt a lot of traffic too.”

~

Everyone was fascinated. The annual Emperor’s Ball of the Caemorian Empire was to be on TV. It had actually taken place about 26 days earlier. Jack and Gemma realised that the outfits and make-up meant that for all practical purposes that people were almost in disguise. There were only close-up shots of the Emperor and his wife, the Imperial Princess Evadanae. Curiously in colour.

“This is something, Gemma,” enthused Jack. “It’s a pity that high heels and a lot of very extreme make-up is in use, I can’t tell which is Maisie.”

“Likely the one with blue, orange and a dragon motif,” said Gemma. “She’s got a human body shape and the Egyptian style eye make up is unlikely on a Caemorian. I suppose she’s wearing a wig. The incredibly long gold hair with blue and orange highlights can’t be natural. It’s frustrating there is no dialogue with the speeches, only subtitles. This is the only program so far in colour. They have either built some cameras to suit our eyes or somehow figured how to have colour to suit all species. Maisie explained why all their screens are monochrome. Two many different kinds of eyes for our trick of three channel colour for TVs and photos to work.”

“It was obviously only edited highlights as the Emperor’s edicts and appointments are missing,” commented Jack.

* * *

“I don’t like it, Heidi,” insisted Jerry. “I think things are taking a bad turn.”

“Why?” she said sharply, spinning round in her chair from the screen to look at him. “Sit down and explain. Our space launches are making a good profit. Our sales of electric cars are gone through the roof. Our lithium battery factories are supplying the other car makers. We took the idea of fusion power seriously the day it was confirmed that’s what the Intergal One was using. Our MobeGlue social media is dominant, making massive revenue from advertising and pushing the messages we want. We are sure too, now, that the aliens won’t interfere.”

“Not obviously or directly,” he admitted, “that’s true. We should start divesting the launch and rockets division. Sooner rather than later someone is going to buy Flitters. The Caemorian TV channel is feeding in a huge amount of Credits. We don’t own any satellites or TV stations or pay TV platforms, so we are getting none of that. I’m sure the aliens will sell us Flitters and their special miniature fusion power units soon. Our contacts in the Solar Alliance say the aliens will visit soon. A proper first contact mission, not like the Intergal One visit.”

“The coup will take place before anyone gets to buy a Flitter,” insisted Heidi. “The aliens are not going to commit here till this is over.”

“It was a risky strategy making sure they knew about us,” he said.

“It means they will keep their noses out!” she laughed. “Their prime directive, the non-interference doctrine. The more trouble there is the less they will be involved. Besides they don’t exactly know who we are, only that there is someone financing the World Democratic Council that are planning a one world government.”

“I’m sure they have figured out who you are,” argued Jerry.

“They all seem to have single planetary governments themselves, and little that resembles democracy, so can hardly object to us doing it. They won’t interfere, or we would have had a visit from the FBI already, despite the millions we are putting into Congress and the Senate. The lobbyists are doing fine and there isn’t a sniff of trouble?”

“No, we are well liked in Washington, you’re the poster girl for Silicon Valley and free enterprise.”

“Start selling the launch company,” agreed Heidi. “We are getting good income from the vehicles now that so much fusion is online. Take any price, dump all the shares over the next six months.”

* * *

“You going to this actual theatre outing that Karl and Greta dreamed up?” asked Gemma on the phone.

“Oh yes,” said Wendy, “safety in numbers, out after dark in stab city, should be fun!”

“What do you mean, stab city, Wendy?”

“Your friend Jack will explain,” said Wendy. “Viktor just came in and is looking at me funny. Bye.”

Wendy put down the phone and smiled at Viktor.

“Funny looks?” said Viktor. “Do I get an invite to what ever blood spilling you are planning?”

Wendy leaned back. “We are just going to the theatre and then a meal, or vice versa, we are full up, ten of us.”

“Who is organising and who is going?” said Viktor. “After all I am responsible for everyone’s safety in stab city, wherever that is.”

“Greta and Karl,” she said, “well, mostly Karl, but they cooked it up together. It’s just a name the Dublin media gives Limerick City, they don’t stab outsiders. Jack is probably too polite and diplomatic to call it that, but he would know.”

Viktor considered this. Certainly long ago, Karl and Greta had known each other. Jack and Gemma were certainly friendly.

“Is Karl taking Greta then?”

“Oh no, Karl is taking me,” she said, “and Greta is going with John. I think Greta and the English John Williams are just good friends though. Jack and the five astronauts, Gemma Stewart and Ilania Olmanski are going. I know it’s a bit old fashioned matching people up as couples.”

“Ilania Olmanski is really going too?” said Viktor.

“Yes, you know she’s a human too.”

“I never doubted it.”

“You think there is a security problem,” accused Wendy. “You always see security problems.”

“Someone is more likely to recognise Jack, the Astronauts or our Cosmonaut,” explained Viktor. “They are not yet targets I think. Our Israeli is anonymous, no-one would recognise her or her role. In Israel she was anonymous in the Finance Ministry.”

“I’m a monkey’s uncle if she is an Israel Finance Ministry worker or any other ordinary civil servant,” said Wendy.

“You pull my leg and pretend to be stupid,” said Viktor, “but I took you as my secretary because research indicated you are very smart. You have two degrees. You are efficient, trustworthy and discreet.”

“Why, Viktor you must like me nearly as much as Mr. Kasianenko.”

“However,” said Viktor, “I’m not going to explain who Ilania Olmanski really is, except to say she really is an expert on certain kinds of finance, or at least where the money comes from to buy certain items not generally available. Have good fun. Obviously I will have to plan my own amusements.”

Viktor went back to his own office. Damn. He did like her. But one can’t get involved that way with your own secretary.

He rang Ilania Olmanski.

“Ilania,” he said, “It’s me Viktor.”

“OK, Viktor, I can talk.”

“You really happy to go out with the crowd this week to the theatre?”

“Yes,” she said, “I don’t see a problem or I would have forbidden it.”

“So you are used to seeing problems of that nature?”

There was silence at the other end.

“Listen, Ilania,” said Viktor, “my smart personal assistant, that likes to play at being an ordinary secretary, commented that she’s a monkey’s uncle if you worked at finance in the Finance Ministry. I pretended I knew but couldn’t say.”

“Come and have coffee,” she said and hung up.

Viktor put on his leather jacket, checked his pistol out of habit, and left in a hurry. He had a feeling Wendy laughed as he went out.

Ilania Olmanski was pouring two espressos with her private coffee service.

Viktor sipped.

“Very good.”

“The coffee or my story?”

“Both, Ilania,” said Viktor. “We both know that sometimes when Shin Bet is brilliant they love to have everyone think they are idiots. Also vice versa. You probably all learn the Art of War in Junior school?”

“No, the Tanakh,” she insisted, “what is the Art of War, some Stalinist text?”

“Even in secular schools?” said Viktor. “That’s what Christians call the old Testament?”

“Yes, often off by heart, the Torah anyway,” she said, “but I did work in the Finance Ministry.”

“So my files claim,” said Viktor, “noting you are expert on finance on items not freely available. It occurred to me that’s ambiguous. Money to buy drugs?”

“No, I wasn’t directly involved with that. Once or twice drugs were used as the money.”

“You worked in the Finance Ministry building in Jerusalem?”

“Yes, I said so.”

“You are playing games,” he said. He thought she was laughing at him, certainly she was grinning. “Who did you work for?”

“Not Shin Bet,” she laughed at him. “Don’t be so serious. Have coffee!”

“Mossad or Aman?”

“No, none of those.”

“What else is there?” exclaimed Viktor.

“A very specialist part of Customs and Excise,” she said. “We had access to police, Shabat, Aman and Mossad. Also Interpol, UK, French, German intelligence, FBI and CIA.”

“Let me guess. You looked for money coming from us or the Chinese?”

“Yes, I’m very expert at Finance in a specialised way. Also procurement of parts people aren’t supposed to sell,” said Ilania. “We also used our expertise to obtain parts unavailable to us on open market or to supply them to our friends, or sometimes the South Africans. I’ve never been a spook, but I could probably write a good book on it. When clients in the Finance ministry twigged that we were not processing their application but interrogating them, we always let them think we were spies. We would have records of all their trips, accommodation addresses, phone calls, copies of letters and faxes. No home delivery of any parcels in Israel from abroad due to security and customs, so almost 100% of parcels from abroad opened by recipients in presence of Customs.”

“You were civilian then,” said Victor, “never Military Intelligence?”

“Civilian,” she said, “and almost more secret because we never left the building, never did our own field work, all the exposed people were in other agencies. They were never told what the information related to either.”

“Now we are on the same side instead of opposite sides of the Iron Curtain so to speak.” Viktor wondered about a State that ran its Custom and Excise more efficiently and more secretly than most Military Intelligence, yet had a government almost always in economic crisis.

“Yes,” said Ilania Olmanski, “who would have predicted it?”

“You tell my smart secretary whatever fairy tale you like,” said Viktor.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Some days I don’t believe myself any more,” said Viktor. “Tell her something convincing anyway. What do you really do here anyway, apart from being the boss?”

“Well,” she said, “I’m the only resident of the Directorate, the Board. I keep them happy. I watch the money too. Pretty much what is publicly claimed. No secrets. I told you, I’m an expert on money.”

“Yes, I figured the Finance Director and his Deputy report to you,” said Viktor. “But who exactly do you report to?”

“Why, our chairman, Konrad Adler.”

“Why do I think there are wheels inside wheels?”

“You have maybe been reading Ezekiel?” She looked at him like an angel.

“Thanks for the coffee,” said Viktor. “I should get back, I don’t like leaving the shop unattended with Wendy in charge. God knows what she might tell someone to be amusing.”

“She is rather amusing at times. Nice to have a chat.”

“So I have noticed.”

Back in his office he broke a pen in half. Crazy Israelis. It could be exactly the truth. Except was she really reporting just to Konrad Adler? Who was the real boss? Konrad only chaired the infrequent Directorate meetings. Some inner group was deciding policy. He got out a list of the Directorate:

Chairman: Konrad Adler

1 Troika: EU / European Space Agency / CNES (one vote!)

2 USA

3 Russia

4 China

5 Israel

6 India

7 South Korea

8 Brazil

9 Japan

10 Canada

11 Australia

12 South Africa

Fifteen seats, 12 regular votes and the chairman only votes if there is a tie. Obviously the most powerful single nations were the USA, Russia and China. The European angle was strange. Only one vote unless there was a tie. If there was a tie, the Europeans got an extra vote. Obviously the list was mostly sorted in order in importance. Except India had done more in space than Israel. Japan more than Brazil. Somehow even with the changing world order he couldn’t quite imagine an Israeli reporting to Russian or Chinese masters. Either she was really reporting only to Adler, to someone in the EU or Israel, or a combination of those. The ESA (European Space Agency) and the EU were too complicated. You couldn’t even keep track of who wanted in, out or the members any more, of either organisation. Canada even had some sort of associate ESA membership. Norway and Switzerland were full ESA members but not in the EU. Though the entire EU contributed to ESA anyway even though some EU members were not in the ESA!

It used to be simple understanding who the boss was. Yet he could call in any Russian security resource. But get billed later. Someone had a sense of humour putting an Israeli in charge of the money, a Russian in charge of security and an Englishwoman in charge of figuring out alien culture and motivations. What did the English know about foreigners? Had Gemma ever been anywhere other than the UK and Ireland? He checked his files, once by plane to Paris for a weekend. Ilania uniquely was the only member of the Directorate that actually worked in the Solar Alliance, and he was the only other person at her level in Shannon, though he wasn’t on the Directorate. It was a mess.

* * *

The original plan was dinner, theatre and then a club. Ilania’s secretary had organised the company minibus to avoid anyone getting marooned later. It had been a toss up between the Thai, Jasmine Palace, the Texas Steakout, Unicorn, Highway or King Palace next to the Regional Hospital. Jack recommended the King Palace and pointed out that it was quiet, spacious and did good European meals as well as very good Chinese.

The minibus picked everyone up in turn from their accommodation. Wendy was wearing jacket, jumper and jeans, Ilania and Ana wore trouser suits. Greta wore a skirt and blouse with a coat. Gemma wore a dress and a loose jacket. Jack wore a jacket, shirt, tie and trousers. John wore jeans, a shirt and tie with a biker jacket. Karl and Bill Jones wore suits. Ed White wore a polo neck, loosely cut sports jacket and trousers.

“We are a mix,” remarked Ilania. “At least we won’t be mistaken for a team. Perhaps some advice on local dress codes was needed, Jack?”

“Not at all,” said Jack. “Pretty much anything is OK the places we are going. You’ll see. Probably only hoodies and oversize track suit bottoms with expensive trainers would be frowned on. Or pyjamas, possibly. Though you might meet some girls or women that are wearing pyjama bottoms in the daytime.”

“Prostitutes?” said Karl.

“No, just ordinary people,” explained Jack. “In some areas the mothers or older sisters drop the kids to school in the morning and pick them up in the afternoon in pyjamas, or leisure suits like pyjamas.”

“You are kidding?” said Gemma.

“No, he’s quite serious,” said Wendy. “Some parts of Dublin too, but Limerick is famous for it.”

“Strange people,” murmured Bill.

“You may not like the clubs,” said Jack, “too youthful. Bars are more the thing here for people like us. Some are specialist, such as the White House doing poetry.”

“Is it American styled?” asked Ed.

“No, it’s painted white!” said Jack. “Icon and Aubars are sort of clubby. The Blind Pig, Nancy’s and some others are more, um, generic.”

“Is there somewhere with Irish music, a real Irish pub?” said Bill.

Wendy laughed. “They are all real pubs in Ireland. The old fashioned kind with Irish music you are thinking off are mostly in the west. There may be one or two in Limerick, after all there is supposed to be enough pubs for every day of the year, which is only a slight exaggeration. The famous ones in Dublin and environs are purely tourist traps.”

“I’d agree with that,” said Jack. “Also there is a huge student population here with UL, Mary I, Art College, Senior College, the Business Institute, the Regional Hospital and the LIT, so there are places dominated by students.”

“So what is it about Hoodies and tracksuit bottoms?” said Ana.

“Skangers!” exclaimed Wendy.

“Yes, Skangers,” agreed Jack. “At least that’s what they call them in Dublin, I suspect Limerick is different.”

“Somehow it even sounds obnoxious,” said Ilania.

“They are,” said Wendy.

“Jack,” said Gemma, “this is a petrol station!”

“But also a Chinese restaurant,” said Jack.

The driver parked round the back and got out a book.

They all went in the rear and up the stairs. A Chinese man, or at least looking Chinese, showed them to two tables. Karl, Wendy, Ed and Greta shared one. The other had Jack, Gemma, John, Ilania, Bill and Ana.

“Would you like me to take your jacket?” said Jack.

“No, I’m quite naked without it,” said Gemma.

Jack turned to her. “It’s not a strapless dress, actually it covers you quite completely.”

“Forget it,” she insisted, but patted his hand. Curiously Ilania was also attached to her jacket.

The inside of the restaurant was clean, luxurious, beautifully decorated and the staff floated silently serving beautiful food. The couples chatted amiably while they waited for their order.

“Everything going good, Karl?” said Ed.

“Ja, it’s good,” said Karl. “I’m not involved with the orbital assembly, but I hear it’s really going just as planned, ahead of schedule. All the designs are complete, all the production lines are running, so all I have now are bug fixes. No doubt some more changes as the Valkyries are tested. We have a complete one on the ground in Siberia to test in orbit assembly and do diagnostics.”

“We aren’t doing anything with Aughanish in Askeaton, Co. Limerick, Karl?” said Ed.

“Now that we have three in orbit?” said Karl. “No, as soon as the SAS Gerhilde sets out in two weeks we start striping it and sending all the contaminated materials to Russia by sea. Maybe there will be time for a last visit.”

Wendy looked at Greta. “Men, can’t they ever forget work?”

“At least Ed doesn’t talk about American football or baseball,” said Greta, “but he is quite the Ice Hockey fan. He’s not amused that there is not even an ice rink here.”

“Gemma, you seem to be the most intelligent and widely read person I’ve ever met,” said Jack.

“I like detective puzzles,” she said, “and the more background you have the easier it is to fit the pieces. You’re no slouch yourself, even your apartment has nice selection of titles. You were wasted on the Irish Foreign Office. You should have been a writer.”

“You saying my reports are good fiction?” he said softly. “A lot have become writers. Like Brian O’Nolan or Eamon Delaney.”

“O’Nolan is better known as Flann O’Brien and Myles na Gopaleen,” said Gemma. “I’m sure I have all his books.”

“How many books do you have at home?”

“No idea.”

“You must have some?”

“I have a library, also bookcases in all the rooms except the bathroom as well as halls and stairs.”

“What about cats?”

“No cats,” she said, “nor any other living creature except my visiting housekeeper, it’s a big house.”

Ana was trying to convince Bill that coloured people had never been an under caste in the USSR like in the USA and that the USSR had always had more freedom and equality. He wasn’t buying it.

“Yes,” said Ana, “I’m only kidding again, we treated lots of minorities badly. Tartars, Cossacks, Jews and Evangelicals.”

“I’d be the first to agree the USA isn’t as wonderful as we make out,” said Bill. “Look at NASA. The highest public profile, men on the moon, but quietly with no publicity Europe, led by the French, forged ahead on Earth Orbit Launch technology, beating NASA and you Russians on reliability and quantity, more than everyone else together. No wonder Arianespace provides the chairman and the European seat on the Directorate is three people!

“So, Ilania,” said John, “how come you got the short straw to be the only resident Directorate member in the HQ here in Shannon?”

Ilania gave him a slowly developing smile. “Someone had to,” she said, “and I wanted a change from the Finance Ministry building, though I love Jerusalem. It will only be a few years, then we will see.”

“You must find Shannon bleak in comparison?” said John.

“Ennis and Limerick are fine,” said Ilania. “If I was Orthodox it would be very hard. The Jewish community in Limerick nearly ended with a pogrom in 1904. There are still communities in Belfast and Dublin, maybe some in Cork, I’m not sure.”

“1904? Crikey!”

“At least in 1990 they started to apologise,” said Ilania. “Also parts of Jerusalem I can’t have bare arms or much leg showing.”

“You’d pass tonight,” said John wryly looking at her jacket.

“No,” she laughed. “A Jewish woman with trousers?”

“I don’t get it,” he said.

“Jack probably would, or Bill as he is from an evangelical family,” she said. “Though neither may know the exact reference. Likely Gemma would know.” She paused and said something in Hebrew then repeated it in English. “Deuteronomy 22 verse 5, ‘A woman shall not wear man’s clothing, nor shall a man put on a woman’s clothing; for whoever does these things is an abomination to the Lord your God’.”

“You remember that?” said John. “You were brought up Orthodox?”

“Not at all,” she said, “as even in secular schools the Tanakh is studied as a sort of history book. I learnt all of the written Torah, the first five books, the Pentateuch, only in Hebrew. So to remember it I have to say it in Hebrew and then translate to English for you.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you are amazing?” said John.

“Oh almost everyone,” she laughed, “all the time, modesty isn’t one of my virtues.”

~

As Jack had suggested the cuisine was superb for Chinese and European dishes. Ilania did pay the bill. Karl hadn’t established if the evening was going to be corporate hospitality or not. But unless Ilania was personally treating them all, it was so far.

The company minibus took them the short trip to the Belltable Arts Centre. They had timed it quite well, with not too much waiting.

Tonight there was music at Nancy’s. Icon and Aubars were more like regular clubs, so could easily be crowded with students. None of them were exactly spring chickens, Wendy was youngest, with the four Astronauts and the Cosmonaut older, and within a few years of each other. Jack, Karl and Gemma probably an older group, but Ilania might have been nearly as old.

~

It was late. The minibus should be at the top of the street by now, so they went out. A bang and chip of stone hit Jack in the face. Another crack and a bystander slowly crumpled. There was a rapid exchange of gunfire.

Everyone in the street was screaming and running away downhill and then toward the milk market.

“Down,” screamed Ilania. She, Gemma, Bill and Ed were returning fire with large 9 mm automatic pistols. Someone near by screamed. They inched back into the archway to Nancy’s. The shooting had stopped. Amazingly the Garda sirens could be heard already. In seconds two squad cars, one with the Armed Response Unit LED sign and a Garda van had screeched to a halt.

“They were up that way,” shouted Ilania, pointing, perhaps unwisely with the weapon.

“Yes, we know,” said the Garda. He was armed and covered by two Gardaí with rifles. “Please all of you slowly set down the weapons,” he said softly. Another Garda van and an ambulance appeared. Two barmen from Nancy’s were already giving first aid to the two shot bystanders who fortunately only had each been hit in the shoulder rather than killed.

Gemma, Bill, Ed and Ilania set down their weapons.

“Now you folks all must come to the station,” he said. He turned to the bar manager. “Anyone else involved?”

“The only other people are the shot couple,” interrupted Ilania, “they are no connection to us. Perhaps the attackers didn’t know or care. People out in the street ran away, none of us ran off. I’m quite sure I was the target.”

“We’ll establish that at the station,” he said, “as well as exactly who is attacking who. You certainly are not local.”

“I have diplomatic immunity,” insisted Ilania. “We are all working for the Solar Alliance in Shannon, just on an evening out.”

“We’ll confirm that later. You must come to the station, or do we need to use restraint?”

“That won’t be required,” said Jack. “I’m Jack Casey, former Irish Diplomat at the UN, formerly DFA. We will all co-operate.” He handed the Garda his Diplomatic Passport.

Five were loaded into each van. A Garda and Ban Garda went with the wounded couple in the ambulance.

“I suppose we better take them to Divisional HQ in Henry St rather than Roxboro if they are diplomats?” said the driver.

“Better ask on the radio,” said the officer with the rifle.

Since Roxboro were already chasing the other gunmen and had opened the case, they had to go to District HQ at Roxboro, which would have been the case for an ordinary feud. These people didn’t look like or talk like locals.

For some reason Ilania had gone into totally arrogant mode. They were together in one room, the station was busy.

“Can I see any ID please?” said the Garda.

Ilania snorted. “HR has their passports. Though Wendy and Jack are Irish,” she said. “Here is my DIPLOMATIC passport!” She slapped it down on the table. Ilania seemed surprised that Karl, Jack, Gemma, Ed and Bill, Ana, Greta and John all produced Diplomatic Passports. Wendy produced her Irish driving licence.

Ilania laughed.

The Garda leafed through the passports. Two Russians, two British, two Americans, a German, an Irish ex diplomat (was his passport valid? he thought, but then he is in Ireland, if it’s real then he is who he says!), the shouty one is an Israeli. Incongruously an ordinary Dubliner? He looked at Wendy and she smiled.

“I’m actually the personal assistant to Viktor Kolsnoi, the Director of Security for the Solar Alliance.”

“So, Ms O’Halloran, are you in charge of security for the group?”

“Um, no, I’m just on an evening out. I’m never in charge of anything, except making sure Viktor isn’t bothered by trivial things.”

“You, Karl Kasianenko,” the Garda said, “are you claiming diplomatic immunity, if so where are you accredited to?”

“If I need to,” he said. “I have done nothing. The Russian Embassy in Dublin will verify.”

He made a note.

“Now Ana Bogaevskaia,” he said, “sorry if I have pronounced it wrong.”

“I also,” she said. Karl looked at her sharply, obviously surprised. This was noticed and the Garda wrote more notes. He studied his notes.

“You, Gemma Stewart,” he said, “you have a weapon, a Russian Makarov PMM 9 mm pistol taking 12 rounds. A strange thing for a British woman. Actually not common for any sort of woman I suppose.”

“I have a permit,” said Gemma. “I am involved in security and I am fully accredited as a diplomat with the British Embassy in Dublin.”

“We’ll see,” he said. Two other Garda stood unmoving. Jack stared at Gemma.

“Now, the two Americans,” he said. “Ed White and Bill Jones. Mr White, why have you and your associate got Russian Makarov PMM 9 mm pistols?”

“Same reason as Gemma,” said Ed, “we have permits, it’s security, we are accredited with the American Embassy in Dublin.”

“What are you, Ilania Olmanski? Mossad?” he said. “You also have a Russian Makarov PMM 9 mm pistol, is there a special on them in the supermarket or something?”

“No, I’m nothing to do with security,” said Ilania. “I am a deputy at large for the Israeli Ambassador. I represent the Israeli Government on the Directorate of the Solar Alliance. I am expected to carry a weapon at all times for personal protection. Israel has a lot of enemies. All these other nine people are my employees, in a sense.”

There was silence while the Garda made notes and thought about this unlikely collection of diplomats all apparently in the Solar Alliance.

“So you, Ilania Olmanski, are in charge?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“So you gave the order to open fire?”

“Not at all,” she said, “we were attacked. Those of us with weapons are trained to respond appropriately.”

“Do you know who attacked?”

“No, sorry,” she said.

“Can you speculate?” he said. “You seemed to suggest to the response team that you were the target.”

“No.”

“You may all sit. No talking,” he said and left.

He went to an office and sat. He spread out all the diplomatic passports and the driving licence. He re-read his notes and the notes from the desk. Russia, USA, UK, Germany, Israel and Ireland. Three mystery gunmen, with rifles, seemingly not very competent. Possibly masked according to witnesses. He called the regional and eventually spoke at length. The station operator patched him through to the Garda there. He called in three Garda and gave them lists and passports.

“Photocopy and bring them back at once.”

The Inspector burst in as someone was bringing back the passports and driving licence.

“So, Pat,” he said, “you have potted nine Diplomats and some random Dubliner, two locals shot, but not in a dangerous state? Where are the three missing gunmen? Would it not be more useful to have caught the guys with rifles?”

“The Armed Response Group was alerted, Jim, even before the shooting started. The rifles with low light sniper scopes are obvious on CCTV. No shortage of street lighting there though.”

“What else so far?” said Jim as he sat down.

“Not much,” said Pat. “Two Russians who don’t have any weapons. The British woman has a Russian automatic pistol. So too do the two Americans and the Israeli woman. I don’t believe any of them are real diplomats or ever were except for maybe our own Jack Casey, he didn’t have a gun. I have three good lads poking British, Russian, German, American, Israeli Embassies and the Irish Department of Foreign affairs. The Dublin girl, Wendy O’Halloran, may really just be the Security Director’s secretary. I didn’t question any of them much. Perhaps they do have permits and really have Diplomatic Immunity, also they didn’t hit any bystanders. We don’t know if they hit any of the gunmen, no blood.”

“So you think they were just responding to being shot at?” said the Inspector.

“Probably,” he said. “We should know shortly if these weapons are actually registered here, they ought to be.”

“No ideas who the attackers are?”

“At a wild guess, Islamic Extremists,” he said, “but that seems too simple. Especially for Limerick. Somehow I can’t imagine the Solar Alliance in a Limerick drug war either.” The phone was ringing. “I’m baffled.” He answered the phone and murmured, “yes,” occasionally.

“Amazingly the firearms are all registered with the Garda by the Embassies,” he said. “Forensics have got sample shots too, so if anyone was shot and we get a bullet, we should know who did it.”

“No sign of the other gunmen?”

“No.”

The Inspector looked at the passports. “Get me some coffee, see also if the visitors would like tea or coffee.”

“Should we breathalyse them?”

“No, well, how are they travelling?”

“A hired minibus, I have an alert out. It’s missing.”

Eventually the various Embassy Duty officers and the DFA Duty Officer all responded. All except Jack Casey and Wendy O’Halloran were accredited to various Dublin Embassies, with all except Ilania Olmanski having typical gobbledegook titles to justify diplomatic status. Ilania Olmanski appeared to be exactly as she claimed. The DFA said it was quite normal for ex-diplomats to still have the passport. As he is in Ireland there was no difficulty in using it as simple ID.

“Did Jack Casey claim Diplomatic Immunity or claim to be a Diplomat?” asked the Inspector.

“No, let me see,” said Pat. “He said: ‘Jack Casey, former Irish Diplomat at the UN. We will all co-operate.’ and nothing else.

“But only the two Americans, the British woman and the Israeli had weapons?”

“Curiously all Russian Makarov PMM 9 mm automatic pistols taking 12 rounds, higher power cartridges according to Forensics. We searched them at the scene and again when loading them to the van. The rest have nothing, not even the two Russians.”

“The Makarovs are a favourite security guard weapon. The Solar Alliance?” mused Jim, the Inspector. “Search for alien starship UN team!”

Pat searched.

“A photo, it’s them,” said Pat. “let’s see, ‘John Williams (ESA, UK), Ana Bogaevskaia (RF), Bill Jones (USA), Ed White (USA) and Greta Schott (ESA, German) return safely from visiting the Intergal One, the alien starship. A mystery surrounds the aliens quick visit, though sources claim there has been an agreement to exchange information. Later we will have a more formal visit from various aliens connected with the Galactic Council, 80,000 light years away on the other side of the Milky Way.’”

“So the six people that met the aliens, the local boss of the Solar Alliance and a personal secretary. Who is Gemma Stewart and Karl Kasianenko? Try the Solar Alliance web site.”

“It seems straight forward,” said Pat. “Karl Kasianenko is Deputy to Operations Director of Engineering. Gemma Stewart is a ‘Senior Archive Supervisor’ whatever that is, they even list Wendy Halloran as Personal Assistant to Operations Director Security Viktor Kolsnoi, so it’s a real title.”

“It would seem likely the Americans thought it a good idea to give their guys some personal protection. Odd the Russians didn’t.”

“Not really, the Russians have been in Aughanish and Shannon a long time,” said Pat. “Gemma Stewart seems odd. Why has an Archivist got Diplomatic Immunity and packing iron under her jacket?”

“Maybe she’s really a UK spook, all the backers of the Solar Alliance are bound to be spying on each other. Their minibus and driver is still missing. That is serious. I think we get them taxis home. They are not the usual riff raff we get after a gun fight. Give them back the guns and ask them to be careful. If we are lucky they might not need them.”

~

The minibus was found burnt out just after dawn on a back road near Croom, barely 10km from the city. The driver was in the ditch, dead. A preliminary examination suggested that he had died suddenly from a haemorrhage induced by a blow on the head. Possibly not quite an intentional killing.

* * *

Viktor called them all to a meeting room and locked the door. They all sat silently at the table. In the end Ilania Olmanski broke the silence.

“It was unexpected,” she said, “we can’t lurk like frightened rabbits.”

“But Ms Olmanski,” said Viktor, “I’m responsible for security.”

“None of us blame you at all,” she said.

“That won’t be a helpful eulogy at your funeral!” said Viktor. “Have you any idea exactly who attacked you and why? We deliberately have a careful publicity campaign to avoid people taking a dislike to us.”

“It’s not going to help with the countries that relied purely on oil reserves, it’s only help against ordinary nut-cases,” said Ilania.

“You think that’s who it was?”

“No,” she said, “we are the wrong target for them.”

“So who then?”

“I think you should send the others off,” said Ilania. “That’s an order. They know nothing.”

Viktor went and unlocked the door. “All out, Ilania and I shall discuss it.”

By common consent they went to the canteen for tea and coffee.

“There isn’t anything to discuss, Viktor,” said Ilania.

“Why?” he said.

“Because,” she said, “there are factions.”

“Islamic Extremists?”

“The attack probably was aimed at me, but I think not the Islamic Extremists, even though it’s no secret I’m here and an Israeli.”

“Who or where are these factions?”

“I can’t tell you, sorry,” she said. “Now do be calm. Please don’t break anything.”

Ilania got up and left. For a long while Viktor sat staring out the window.

She must mean factions in the Solar Alliance if she is so sure it’s not Islamic or Oil. Why would a Solar Alliance Faction want her dead? He reflected that who else except someone inside would know that they would be coming out of Nancy’s. The minibus driver was dead, though that was possibly not intentional. A young Limerick couple seriously injured and scarred for life. Someone didn’t care about collateral damage? Rifles with sniper scopes in an area with good street lights? They obviously never had a clear sight of Ilania or she’d be dead. She was very cool about it, he thought she seemed to expect it, had there been an earlier attempt? At least the Garda were very cooperative. Who the hell was Gemma Stewart? A scholarly English woman like Gemma didn’t carry a 9 mm pistol, he knew what kind of work she’d done in GCHQ. It wasn’t so odd the Americans carrying guns. Ilania had not at all been surprised about the Diplomatic passports and three extra weapons. Had she known in advance? He was supposed to be the spy, ex KGB and SVR, Director of Security. So why didn’t he know what the game was, who were the players and what are the stakes? He only reported to Ilania, but whose orders was she following?

~

It was the wrong time of day for the canteen. They sat at one of the larger tables which was really just two end to end.

“You take the end, Jack,” said Gemma sitting to one side.

The rest sat.

“I’m chairman?” said Jack.

They all just looked at him.

“So how come everyone is a diplomat, except you Wendy?” asked Jack.

“I think I better go,” said Wendy. “Viktor will be agitated, also I know nothing, and what I don’t know I can’t tell Viktor.”

“I suppose so,” said Jack, “but you can tell him anything about last night.”

“It was weird,” said Wendy, “at least the young couple are going to be OK, but the poor driver? Why?”

“Probably someone Ilania has annoyed,” said Jack. “You maybe want to be nice to Viktor today, no questions or jokes. I can’t imagine Ilania is going to make him cheerful, I suspect she knows something and won’t tell him.”

Wendy left, closing the door tight.

“Ed, Bill,” he said, “I guess the CIA or some such just persuaded you to carry the guns and you can’t shed any light on who the attackers were?”

“Yeah,” drawled Ed, “I’ve no idea about the attackers.”

“Pretty much,” agreed Bill.

“The rest of us are just innocent ignorant bystanders? Anyone disagree?”

Everyone looked at each other, then at Gemma.

“I guess that leaves me,” said Gemma.

“You don’t have to tell us anything,” said Jack, “but you were hardly the stereotypical philologist, anthropologist or whatever last night, though you did mention you used to work in GCHQ, it wasn’t field work?”

“I really do what I claim to do, all of you except Karl have been interviewed by me,” said Gemma. “I really am the best alien expert we have. I did mention to Jack, not realising that events might put a different complexion on it, I have worked with languages and codes in GCHQ since Uni. I never worked as a spy or in the field, but I did have training and refresher courses during my GCHQ career, it was practically a joke at GCHQ, as I was just a technical specialist. So after I started here, Ilania sought me out, arranged the pistol and the UK Diplomatic protection in case of any problems and just asked me to keep my eyes open on her account, and be ready to use the Makarov if she was attacked. Our apartments are side by side. She has surveillance of the lift and stairs to her apartment and an intercom and alarm to mine. She rarely goes anywhere public without me. She says I’m not as obvious as Viktor’s goon squad.”

“Who or what is she afraid of?” said Jack.

“I have no idea.”

“It has to be someone on the inside,” said Karl. “We should not discuss this or Gemma’s extra role with anyone.”

“Why is it inside?” said Ed.

“Because who outside knew we would be there?” said Jack. “Also, there are more likely targets for Islamic Extremists or enraged oil nations. I think Karl is correct, we should keep mum and end this meeting, but keep our eyes open on Ilania’s behalf?”

They all left.

“You busy, Gemma?” said Jack.

“Are we still friends?” said Gemma.

“Yes, you looked very competent last night. Also they might have shot me. I’d think they were not expecting four people to be armed. Did Ilania say anything later?”

“She thanked me for my quick and accurate response and remarked that the American addiction to guns had proved providential. I think Ed and Bill surprised her. I was surprised when Ilania organised my diplomatic passport and the pistol, I wanted to tell you, but she did swear me to secrecy. I thought it was just a bit of Israeli paranoia. I never imagined there would be an attack.”

“We all have secrets,” mused Jack. “I haven’t told you why I have a trick laptop or about who supplied it. It seems reasonable that you helped Ilania. An Israeli like her is unlikely to be supporting the darkest faction of the Solar Alliance. We need somewhere more private to discuss it. I thought it odd you didn’t ask.”

“I suspected you are still working for the Irish Government,” admitted Gemma. “I didn’t want to ask any question you’d not want to answer.”

“I’m just working for myself, but I sought some professional help.”

11: Preparations

“Good news, Ed,” exclaimed Karl, “you are first officer on SAS Gerhilde and Mao Ching is captain! You are scheduled to visit the mock up at Askeaton tomorrow afternoon and then the next morning meet the doctor here. It’s going to set off to do the test jump as soon as it gets the all clear.”

“This is unexpected.”

12: Surveillance

In the SA HQ Viktor Kolsnoi, Director of Security, realised what was nagging him. He went to the top floor and across to a window facing the street. Why had the electricity company put a pole with rural transformer here? It had no overhead cables either, surely the industrial estate only used the large ground mounted substations. He thought though it had been there when they had moved in. He went back to his office.

“Wendy, who runs the electricity?” he asked.

Wendy stared at him. “Mostly the ESB,” she said, “probably all the infrastructure anyway.”

“You know what a transformer is?”

“A kind of toy?” said Wendy. “You are in a more cryptic mood than usual, you missing Moscow?”

Part 3: The Westphalian Treaty

Everyone knows the Aliens have a Prime Directive
No Interference

It’s now well over three years since Maisie left Earth.

They were getting very bored after a year on the SAS Gerhilde heading beyond the Kuiper belt to jump. The latency was too high now for conversations. The distance was now too great for real time video streaming, except on a laser link, which was only available for a few hours a day. One suggestion was to build microwave to laser repeaters on the moon’s poles to improve the capacity of deep space communications.

13: The Swans

Fred was concerned that Konrad was wanting Ilania to visit the Aughanish site rather than just check the paperwork. Reviewing the recordings, Fred thought he seemed evasive as to the real reason why. But Fred had a mole now in his office in Düsseldorf so knew it wasn’t Konrad’s idea. Fred had contemplated having his senior agent in Shannon break cover and warn her and Viktor about the likelihood it was a trap. Ilania was obviously anxious to verify the site was really cleared. He was appalled at what Jack had explained. Neither of them wanted to know if the Irish government had agreed, but the government must have been involved to agree the no fly zone. The neutron radiation from the Valkyrie’s lightweight tokamak design was rather dangerous compared to a properly shielded terrestrial reactor. However it had all been stripped clean nearly a year ago.

14: Alien Arrivals

The Aricebo radio telescope picked up the transmission first. The Galactic Council, or perhaps really just Wildgrave Plonnis, had informed Jack Casey and Ilania. First to appear on worldwide radio tracking was the Caemorian starship. A couple of weeks later the Akasurip starship from their Homeworld, Glamis, appeared. Both starships appeared to be able to provide two or three channels twenty-four hours a day with people willing to talk. It was very different from the Intergal One. Both starships had jumped very close, a little less than 12 light days away, but Saturn and especially Jupiter were on the far side of the sun.

15: The Dinner Party

Ilania was annoyed and perhaps a little frightened by the last attack, but she felt caged.

“Viktor,” she insisted, “I need to get out! What about pony trekking? Or a day at the beach?”

“Impossible,” he said. “I couldn’t ensure your safety.”

16: Meetings

Jack Casey and Fred Brown were in the Country Kitchen, Portlaoise. The Lorm woman, Janethra, took off her sunglasses and hat. She smiled in a disconcerting way at Jack and Fred.

“You have any difficulty getting here, Janethra?” said Jack.

“Not at all, Jack,” she said. “Nice to meet you again, Fred. My driver is a Dubliner and knows the town well.”

17: The White Queen

Bob, commonly known simply as The Man was playing chess. The other player and a second board was in Belfast. They were using video conferencing. It was about 7 am British time.

Each side had made two moves. So it was White’s turn. Fred lifted the White Queen and put her on one of the four middle squares.

“You serious?” said Bob.

“Yes,” said Fred.

18: Red Knights

Part 4: The Red Queen

Follow the money! Revolutions cost a lot!

19: Reboot

System Status

File system check in 10 seconds press any key to abort…

David opened the door. The well dressed young man spoke slowly in Hebrew. Then in English. David brought him into the study.

Ilania was at first very startled and frightened.

20: Planning a Trip

Nearly a year earlier

There wasn’t much time left, soon Janethra would be leaving. A military Flitter that would be trans-shipped to Earth had brought her for a last meeting with Maisie at the Circle College.

21: Maisie

The last Klah got in his cabinet which automatically closed. The automatic system monitored the tranked people and the starship jumped. It coasted for three days and jumped again. After the fourth jump the starship coasted for some time in the Tellurian Solar system before decelerating really hard. The deceleration reduced at last to 1.5 g. Eventually the Caemorian and Akasurip freighter Flitters would rendezvous with replacement water as reaction mass and as a source of hydrogen for fusion as there would be no Flitters of their own to meet them.

22: The New CEO

The next day Viktor walked in past the two Irish Army guards and up to his office complex. Karl waved and passed on to his own office.

He was amazed, because Wendy O’Halloran was sitting at his own desk instead of in the outer office.

“What are you doing at my desk?” he said.

“Minding the shop while you were out,” she said. “Our new CEO has a meeting at 9.15 tomorrow in the large board room.”

23: Dublin

Maisie closed her Irish bank accounts after transferring the money to the Dublin Embassy. Eventually the Dublin Embassy would get her UK bank account and house sale monies. Maisie called Sharon and Frank Doyle to the Embassy as well as John Crombie, her Belfast solicitor.

24: The Convocation

Gemma turned to Jack in the hotel room as he muted the TV reports on the Dublin Castle bilateral meetings between the Caemorian Ambassador and the Irish Government.

25: Belfast

Kaytim flew them with Maisie talking to Belfast Airport ATC. Landing at Belfast City Airport was uneventful.

26: Tewkesbury

“Someone gave you a lovely Baroness outfit,” said Kaytim. “The rooms for us are fine too. We will figure out who sleeps where later.”

27: Plotting

“Come in here,” ordered Gemma. “Oh good you have your laptop here already.” Gemma locked the door of her study.

Jack sat down and watched, bemused, as Gemma searched the study.

28: Going Home

The cleaned doll house was in the starship apartment on the table. Maisie was sitting with her legs folded on one end of a couch opposite Olef. She was holding a threadbare Teddy, chatting to it in Karndic.

29: Cleaning Up

Viktor read the reports of Maisie’s visit to Belfast. It could have been worse.

He called Jack on his mobile.

30: The Red Queen

Fred listened to Craig and leaned back. “OK, you’re right,” he admitted. “I’ll call Bob, get Eve to book all of us, not Wendy or the others getting let go, to New York. Probably from there we will go to the west coast somewhere and then San Jose.”

31: The Refuge

Heidi woke. Something had changed. It was silent! They must have landed. She put the light on and got up. There was a chime.

32: Unwanted

“Just to let you know, Maisie,” wrote Janethra,

…

THE END

The Celtic Otherworld

Unlike Greek and Roman myth, there are many Celtic Otherworlds that appear to be magical and often inhabited by the Fair Folk (Fay, Fairy, Sióg) or sometimes the Tuath Dé (later called Tuatha De Danann). They are not realms of the dead. The oldest Norse legends have many similar aspects to the oldest Celtic myths. Apart from Valhalla, Asgard isn’t a place of the dead.

‘Riders of the Sidhe’ by John Duncan (cropped detail)

Manannán Mac Lir led the Tuath Dé away to the Otherworld over 2,500 years ago. Except for them it’s been more like 600 due to the time-slip. Not all the portals (often at Court Graves, Raths and other ancient Irish sites) have been closed. Any Enchanter can open one. Today Tuath Dé culture is a crazy mix of Mediaeval to 19th Century.

Most involve Alice, also called Eilis, who lived in rural Co. Limerick till age thirteen.

The Talents Universe

The Talents Universe series are all stories connected by characters with the mysterious Talent, of which there are seven kinds, or with some involvement of the Caemorian Empire, a world 80,000 light years away from Earth (Tellus) on the other side of the Milky Way. Apart from Jump Drive for the starships and the psychic-like Talent, the Science Fiction attempts to be compatible with known science.

Mostly involving the activities of the Caemorian Empire, a single planet 80,000 light years from Earth. They are about 5000 years more advanced. Their culture dominates nearly a third of the Milky Way. Anyone developing Talent, always at puberty, must be trained in the Circle College on Caemoria.

Many of the stories involve Maisie Kelly from Ireland the only person from Earth with the special Talent. The time scale is contemporary, and as we didn’t notice any giant starship visiting, it must be an alternate reality?

Trader’s Isle

The Trader’s Isle series is set in mediaeval-like world without Black Powder. The massive world wars and loss of much technology a thousand years earlier was bad, but the rise of the Sorcerers called the Silver Wolf Heads using the Arinopean Barons as puppet leaders was a disaster for the Isle of Amrat and the people curiously called Traveller Folk, even though they are not nomadic.

The painting is a detail from Le Jardin de Maubuisson by Camille Pissarro (1830-1903).