Breach

fiction by michael werneburg

2002.07.26

"Is it always so bad, then?"

"It's why an engineer is needed on these interventions. But the damage done to these species isn't always physical. Have you heard the story of the Kidran?"

The Ensign nodded. "Yes, something about a real impact to their society, I seem to recall. "

"The Kidran came from a home-world close to their sun, and their society developed underground. No radio signals, no lights visible at night. They went interstellar before we'd even noticed them. They got into a waste repo and brought the material back to their home world, all in the time between two of our routine checks."

"Oh? That quickly," the Ensign said, watching a complex energy wave pass through their subtime filed.

"They became convinced the waste material was a gift from their gods. They worked it into religious artifacts that were widely distributed."

Marl spoke up. "I didn't know you were on that intervention, David. The Kidran became religious zealots, didn't they?"

Eisberg objected. "Zealots! Well, I wouldn't say—"

"If I recall correctly, Lieutenant," Xin interrupted, "they'd transported 100% of the waste back to their home-world. They were working the waste into religious artifacts by blending it into an alloy."

"Millions of citizens handled the stuff daily. It dissolved their minds."

Eisberg winced. "Again, a phrase like 'dissolved their minds' is—"

"Who is telling this story, Lieutenant?" Xin exclaimed with a laugh.

The Engineer gritted his teeth. "This is no joking matter, Chrissy. The incident lasted no more than several weeks, but it led to irrecoverable planet-wide societal collapse. It took us almost three months to find and reclaim the waste, subjective time. The Corporation is still working with the Kidran to rebuild their society to this day. Helping them re-learn their ways, adopting forgotten technologies–. Hey, don't they teach you this stuff in school?"

"School? No, not as I think you mean it. I am here through the orphan refugee program."

Eisberg maintained an awkward silence. He didn't seem to know what to make of that information.

Xin looked at him. "Orphan refugee program? Hiram, are you from Hysbik II?"

The young man nodded and turned away to stare ahead. His home world had also been ravaged by the same waste they were here to reclaim. The Lieutenant wondered how he'd wound up here after a start like that! No wonder he was so by-the-book.

They emerged from the road-cut and got their first real look at what the aliens had done with the site. It looked like a war zone. Blackened pits dotted the area. Piles of debris lay everywhere in a hap-hazard fashion. Machinery—some still clearly still functioning, most not—was everywhere. And so were the dead.

The Ensign gasped.

The Lieutenant said, "I'm moving us down to 60% of nominal time," and adjusted the controls. The wind noticeably lessened, and they could see that things around them had slowed.

They carried on down the road into the site. Along the way, they passed one or two pieces of equipment that were still in operation. Conveyers crept along at seemingly very slow speeds. The clouds of particulate they displaced became a thick layer around their sled's subtime field, but didn't pass through.

Then they came across their first aliens. At first, there were only corpses. Some had clearly been there for quite some time. Some seemed to have been torn to pieces by their comrades, though they couldn't tell at a glance where it was before or after death. None of the corpses struck the crew as worth investigating.

Eisberg was studying the sled's approach on the monitor. "There's some sort of anomaly ahead. If I had to guess, I'd say they've opened a pit mine."

As they got closer, the sled's sensors were picking up significant traces of the toxic waste distributed in many locations, usually packaged into small bundles. It was here that they came across some live aliens. The Ensign dutifully read a verbal log regarding the first contact.

Though the aliens wore thick protective suits, the human crew could make out that as expected they were bipedal and stood erect. Aside from that, the suits obscured their make-up. Some of the aliens wielded converted mining equipment as weapons. Others carried actual projectile weapons. As the sled passed one figure lying prone next to the road, they were nearly struck by his bullets, which passed them with still-lethal speed.

"They're really tearing each other apart," Xin said. "If we're following protocol, I might have to assume command if it gets too hairy."

"As we discussed. And I will confirm again; we're following protocol to the letter. The Prince going off-script could get us all thrown in prison as it is, so let's be operationally perfect." At the same time, the AI chirped that it was adopting a more aggressive driving stance due to detected hostile activity.

"It's funny how much they look like us," the young man added.

"They usually do, if they're humanoid. Others look like Oribben. If they're hexapods, they usually look something like the Ychet. There are only a few designs, they keep coming up time and again. It's like sharks, or crabs. Life converges on the designs that work."

"Like the music?"