Earth unaware

CHAPTER 4

Council

The helm on El Cavador was always buzzing with activity, but today the crew seemed especially occupied. Now that the Italians were gone and a week of trading and banqueting was over, the whole ship was in a rushed frenzy to make up for lost time with the dig. There were quickships to prepare, flight paths to program, scans of the rock to take and decipher, machines to operate for the miners below, dozens of plans and decisions and commands all happening at once-with Concepcion at the center of it all, taking questions, interpreting data, issuing orders, and flying from station to station with the nimbleness of a woman half her age.

Victor and Edimar were floating at the hatch entrance, taking it all in, waiting for a break in the chaos to approach Concepcion about the alien spacecraft Edimar had found. From the look of things, it didn’t seem like they were going to get that chance any time soon.

“Maybe we should come back some other time,” said Edimar. “She seems busy.”

“Nothing is more important than this, Mar,” said Victor. “Believe me, she’ll be glad we interrupted.”

Victor turned on his greaves, allowed his feet to descend to the floor, and crossed the room toward Concepcion, who had anchored at the holotable with a group of crewmen.

Dreo, one of the navigators, a big man in his fifties, stepped in front of Victor and lightly put a hand on Victor’s chest, stopping him. “Whoa, whoa. Where you headed, Vico?”

Victor sighed inside. Dreo fancied himself second in command, even though that position was officially held by Victor’s uncle Selmo. Victor gestured back to Edimar, who hadn’t moved from her spot by the hatch. “Edimar and I need to speak with Concepcion immediately. It’s urgent.”

“Concepcion is not to be disturbed,” said Dreo. “We’re almost at the lump.”

“This is more important than the lump,” said Victor.

Dreo smiled sardonically. “Really? What is it?”

“I’d rather speak to Concepcion directly, if you don’t mind. It’s an emergency.” He made a move to go around Dreo, but the man put his hand out again and stopped Victor a second time.

“What kind of emergency? A leak, a fire, a severed limb? Because it better be life-threatening if you’re going to bother the captain right now.”

“Call it a very unique emergency,” said Victor.

“Tell you what,” said Dreo. “You and Edimar go wait in Concepcion’s office while I relay your message to her. She’ll come the moment she can.” Dreo turned back to the system chart on his screen.

Victor didn’t move.

After a moment, Dreo sighed and turned back to him. “You haven’t gone to the office yet, Vico.”

“And I won’t until I see you relay my message or you get out of my way.”

Dreo looked annoyed. “You are all kinds of trouble today, aren’t you?”

He was referring to Janda, of course. As a member of the Council, Dreo would know everything. Victor remained where he was and said nothing.

Dreo grunted, turned away from his charts, and moved to Concepcion. He tapped her on the shoulder, and they spoke in hushed tones. Concepcion made eye contact with Victor then looked toward the hatch at Edimar. She gave Dreo brief instructions that Victor couldn’t hear then returned her attention to the holotable.

Dreo came back with a triumphant smile. “You’re to wait in her office like I told you.”

“Did you tell her it was an emergency?”

“Yes.” Dreo raised a hand, gesturing to the office. “Now go.”

Victor motioned for Edimar, and they both made their way to the office. It was the second time Victor had been ushered into this room today-though the meeting with Concepcion that morning about Janda’s departure already felt like a distant memory.

“What if it turns out to be nothing?” said Edimar. “What if it’s just a glitch in the system? That’s the most likely explanation. That’s far more probable than it being an alien spacecraft or a secret, corporate near-lightspeed ship.”

“You went over the data several times, Edimar. If you’re wrong, and it’s nothing, which it isn’t, then coming to Concepcion was still the right thing to do. She’ll appreciate you bringing it to her attention. You won’t be scolded for doing your job.”

“Not by Concepcion maybe. But my father will be furious.”

“It’s not too late to go to your father first, Mar.”

She shook her head. “No. This is right. Concepcion first.”

They had been over this already. Edimar was convinced that if she went first to Toron, her father, he would either sit on the data to review it later or he would dismiss the whole thing outright. Victor seriously doubted that Toron would be dismissive in the face of so much overwhelming evidence, yet Edimar had been adamant. “You don’t know him, Vico.”

She was wrong on that. Victor did know her father. Toron was Janda’s father as well. But Victor wasn’t going to argue the point.

Going to Concepcion now, Edimar believed, would cause the least friction between her and her father in the long run. If Edimar ended up being right, then the immediacy of the situation could excuse her skipping Toron and going directly to Concepcion. But if Edimar went to Toron first and got rejected, she would then feel a moral obligation to circumvent her father and go to Concepcion anyway. Edimar had talked herself through every scenario until Victor was pink in the face. It was an alien ship, for crying out loud. One that could potentially be headed to Earth. Are we honestly going to worry about hurting Toron’s feelings?

“Concepcion can read the data herself, Mar,” said Victor. “Let her look at it and decide what it means.”

They waited for ten minutes. Finally Selmo, Victor’s uncle and Concepcion’s true second in command, floated into the room. “Concepcion will see you, but she asks that you meet her in the greenhouse.”

Victor thought that odd. The greenhouse was humid and cramped and a terrible place to meet. “Why not in her office?”

Selmo shrugged, but Victor could tell from Selmo’s expression and by the way he glanced at Edimar that he did know, or that at least he suspected. It then dawned on Victor what Selmo must be thinking: Selmo was a member of the Council, and here Victor was with Janda’s younger sister asking to meet with Concepcion mere hours after Janda’s departure. The natural assumption would be that this had something to do with Janda. But what? That Victor and Edimar were demanding her return? That was lunacy. Victor would never reveal his love for Janda to Edimar. That would be unthinkable. He and Edimar could never be allies in that, and Victor would never want to attempt it anyway.

But Selmo didn’t know that. He merely saw a brokenhearted boy and the departed girl’s feisty little sister and jumped to the wrong conclusion. Apparently Concepcion had as well. Meeting in the greenhouse was her way of being cautious. There they would be far from the eyes and ears of everyone else in case this was about Janda.

This is what my life will be like if I stay here, Victor realized. No one on the Council will ever look at me without seeing Janda also.

“The Eye detected something,” said Victor. “That’s why we need to see Concepcion.”

Selmo seemed momentarily relieved until he understood the full implication. He turned to Edimar, concerned. “What is it?”

“We’re not sure,” said Victor. “We’re hoping Concepcion will know. It may be nothing. No cause for alarm. Don’t tell anyone. We just want to be sure. Thanks for your help.” He launched out of the room and made his way down the corridor toward the greenhouse.

Edimar caught up to him, annoyed. “Why’d you go blabbering to Selmo? Now everyone will know I saw something.”

“Selmo will stay quiet. And everyone will know soon enough anyway.”

“Not if Concepcion says it’s nothing! There’s a chance I’m wrong, Vico. And if I am, I could have forgotten the whole thing and nobody would have been the wiser. Now my father will definitely find out.”

Victor caught himself on a bulkhead and stopped to face her. “First, it is something. We’ve established that. Let’s stop questioning it. Second, if you want adults and your father to take you seriously, Mar, you need to put this concern about your father aside and think like an adult. Put the safety of the family above your father’s anticipated reactions and do what you know is your job.” He hadn’t meant it to sound like a rebuke, but it had come out that way.

“You’re right,” said Edimar. “Of course you’re right.”

Victor felt the tiniest pang of guilt then. He had put an end to Selmo’s misconception but by doing so he had made it possible for Toron to find out through the wrong channels. But what could Victor do? The alternative was far worse. Having Selmo or others believe that Edimar was somehow aware of or implicated in Victor and Janda’s taboo relationship would be a devastating blow to Edimar’s reputation on the Council. Victor couldn’t stomach that. He wouldn’t let the shame of him and Janda spread to Edimar.

“I won’t say another word to anyone,” said Victor. “I won’t even go to the greenhouse if you’d prefer. This is your discovery, not mine.”

Her answer was quick. “No, no. I want you there.”

“All right. Let’s go.”

The greenhouse was a long tube four meters wide, with vegetables growing from pipes running the length of the room. The pipes took up every available space on the wall, creating a thick tunnel of green all around you. Tomatoes, okra, cilantro, sprouts, all with their leaves and bodies floating out from the holes in the pipes like seaweed. It was an aeroponic, soilless system, and although the atomized, nutrient-rich mists were sprayed through the pipes onto the root systems only twice an hour, some of the mist always escaped, and the room was always uncomfortably humid. It was also exceptionally bright, and as Victor and Edimar passed through the anteroom and into the actual greenhouse, it took Victor’s eyes a moment to adjust to the vapor lamps. The air was thick with the scent of greenery and cilantro and the nutrient solution.

Concepcion was deep in the room with her feet pointed toward them, her body perpendicular to their orientation, waiting. Victor and Edimar changed their orientation to match hers and launched what was now up, deeper into the greenhouse. Now the greenhouse felt like a silo, and Victor could see why Concepcion would prefer to meet with their bodies positioned this way. They wouldn’t have to stoop to keep their feet and heads out of the plants.

Concepcion was floating beside a long section of sprouts. Here the plants were shorter, so the “tunnel” was wider, giving the three of them more room to face each other. Victor caught himself on one of the handholds and stopped in front of Concepcion.

“I’m sure I need not tell you both how busy we are with the dig,” said Concepcion. “But I also know that neither of you would call something an emergency unless it absolutely was one.”

Victor looked at Edimar and waited.

“The Eye detected something,” said Edimar. “A movement out in deep space. I’ve been over the data dozens of times, and the only explanation that I can see is that it’s some type of spacecraft decelerating from near-lightspeed.”

Concepcion blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I know it doesn’t make any sense,” said Edimar. “I hardly believe it myself, but unless I’m wrong, and I absolutely could be, there is something out there that is moving faster than humanly possible. I even showed it to Victor to see what he thought because it all seemed completely ridiculous to me.”

Victor nodded. “It looks legit.”

“Did you show your father?” asked Concepcion.

“Not yet. I’ve been manning the Eye myself today. Father is helping with the dig. Victor and I thought it best to come straight to you.”

Concepcion looked at each of them before gesturing to Edimar’s goggles. “Is that the data there?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Edimar, handing over the goggles.

Concepcion put them on and tightened the straps. As she blinked her way through the data, Victor and Edimar waited. After five minutes, Concepcion removed the goggles and held them in her hands. “Who else knows about this?”

“No one,” said Edimar.

“I mentioned to Selmo that the Eye had detected something,” said Victor. “But I didn’t say what.”

Concepcion nodded, then faced Edimar. “Can you decipher its trajectory?”

“Not yet,” said Edimar. “Not at this distance. It’s too far out.”

“Assuming its trajectory was headed toward us,” said Concepcion, “could you guess at how long it would take to reach us?”

“Not accurately,” said Edimar. “Best guess, at least a few weeks but no more than a few months. The problem is I don’t know how far away it is. All I know is that it’s moving at near-lightspeed and that we can see the light from it, which is obviously moving at lightspeed. So it could be closer than we think. I don’t know.”

Concepcion pulled her handheld from its place on her hip and starting tapping commands into it. “I’m calling an emergency meeting of the Council. We’ll meet this evening on the helm. I want both of you there.” She pocketed her handheld. “In the meantime, don’t speak of this to anyone. The one exception is Toron. I’d like him to look at this as soon as possible. It’s not that I doubt your interpretation of the data, Edimar. I would have reached the same conclusion myself. But perhaps Toron will see something we don’t. You did the right thing coming to me, but I hope Toron proves us wrong. I don’t like anything that I can’t understand, and I don’t understand this at all.”

Victor stayed with Edimar as she went looking for her father. He had suggested that she speak with him alone, but Edimar had insisted that Victor come along. “He won’t be as angry with me if someone else is there,” she had said.

Victor wasn’t eager to see Toron so soon after Janda’s departure. How would Toron react? Did he blame Victor for what had happened? Did he believe that Victor should have seen where the relationship was headed and taken greater care to end it? Did he harbor ill will? Victor would rather not find out, especially not today, with the sting of Janda’s departure still fresh in Toron’s mind. But what could Victor do? He couldn’t hide from Toron. Sooner or later their paths would cross; it was a small ship. Nor did he want to hide, really. There was a part of him that wanted to apologize, a part that wanted to assure Toron that nothing improper had happened. Victor hadn’t known anything was wrong. It had been an innocent mistake. That wouldn’t change the outcome of it all, that wouldn’t diminish the pain. But maybe it would bring him and Toron a little peace.

Toron was in the cargo bay, making repairs to the mining gear Victor had won in the trade with the Italians. It was no secret that Toron had always wanted to work alongside the miners, but his proficiency and training with the Eye had kept him assigned to the crow’s nest instead. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t notice Victor and Edimar launch from the hatch and land near him.

“Hello, Father,” said Edimar.

Toron looked tired and defeated. When he saw Edimar, his expression turned to one of surprise. “Who’s watching the Eye?” he said.

“It’s on auto,” said Edimar.

“You should never put it on auto unless it’s an absolute emergency, Mar.” Toron glanced at Victor, noticing him for the first time. His brow furrowed. “What is this, Mar?”

“The Eye detected something, Father, out beyond the ecliptic in deep space.”

Toron gestured to Victor. “What does he have to do with it?”

“I showed it to him,” said Edimar.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to make sure I was interpreting the data correctly before I showed an adult.”

“He’s not a spotter,” said Toron. “He can’t read the data.”

Actually I can, thought Victor. But he said nothing.

“Nor is he your teacher, Mar,” said Toron. “I am. If you have a question about the Eye, you call me and nobody else. Victor hasn’t been trained with the Eye. Getting his opinion is a waste of time.”

Edimar raised her voice slightly, surprising Victor. “Did you even hear what I said, Father? The Eye detected something.”

“I heard you perfectly,” said Toron. “And if you raise your voice at me again, young lady, you will not like the consequences. Any apprentice on this ship would lose his commission with that attitude, and I will not be any more patient with you simply because you’re my daughter.”

“It’s a spacecraft,” said Edimar. “At near-lightspeed.”

That gave Toron pause. He studied their faces and could see that they meant it. He motioned with his hand. “Give me the goggles.”

Edimar passed them to him, and Toron slid them over his eyes. After a minute, he started asking Edimar questions, most of which Victor didn’t understand: What algorithms had Edimar considered? What measurements had the Eye taken? What processing sequences had she used? What coded commands had she entered? After that, Toron’s questions began to sound more like a rebuke. “Did you try such and such?” “Did you think to do this or that?” At first Edimar answered yes. She had tried everything. But as Toron continued peppering her with possible actions she could have taken, Edimar’s confidence began to wane. No, she hadn’t tried that. No, she hadn’t thought to do that. No, she hadn’t run that scenario. By the end of it, Edimar looked near tears.

Toron removed the goggles. “Go back to the Eye, Edimar, and when I get there, we’ll look at this a little more thoroughly. If it proves to be something, I’ll go show Concepcion.”

Edimar looked desperately to Victor, asking for help.

“Actually,” said Victor, “we’ve already gone to Concepcion.”

“Before you came to me?” asked Toron.

“We thought she needed to see it immediately,” said Edimar.

“We?” said Toron. “You mean you and Vico? This doesn’t concern him, Mar. He replaces lightbulbs and fixes toilets. What the Eye finds is my specialty, not his, and from the way you’ve responded to all this, I would add, not yours either. I don’t see how this is a difficult concept for you to grasp, Edimar. I’m the spotter. Me. I will school you in how to watch the sky. I will help you decipher the data. And I will decide if and when anything is brought to the captain’s attention.”

Edimar’s cheeks flushed.

“Go to the Eye and wait for me,” said Toron. “Do not ask for help along the way. Do not get the opinion of a passerby. You and I will address this alone.”

“It’s not her fault we went to Concepcion,” said Victor. “It’s mine. I’m the one who suggested it.”

“And who gave you that authority?” asked Toron.

“Anyone who sees a potential threat to the ship has an obligation to report it,” said Victor, reciting policy.

“You know all about rules, don’t you, Vico?” said Toron.

He meant dogging. This had started as a conversation about an object in space, but it had suddenly become, for Toron at least, about Janda. Toron blamed Victor. Or he hated Victor so intensely for it that it consumed his thoughts, even now, when something as strange and potentially threatening as an alien starship was brought to his attention.

“It’s not Vico’s fault, Father,” said Edimar. “I asked him to help me.”

Toron kept his eyes on Victor. “Go to the Eye, Edimar.”

“But-”

“Go to the Eye!” It was nearly a shout, and Edimar recoiled, fearing perhaps that a hand or fist would follow. She launched off the floor toward the hatch. Toron stared at Victor until he heard the hatch door close. They were alone.

“I want to be very clear about something, Vico. I want you to listen to what I’m saying because I am only going to say this once. It’s something I should have said to you a long time ago. You stay away from my daughters. Do you understand me? If Edimar asks for your help, you ignore her. If she begs for your opinion, you walk away. If she makes eye contact with you from across the room, you pretend she doesn’t exist. She is a ghost to you. Invisible. Am I making myself clear? Because it seems to me that you don’t know the boundaries of what’s appropriate and what isn’t.”

It was a ridiculous accusation. The idea that Victor would do anything inappropriate with Janda was infuriating. But to insinuate that his behavior toward Edimar could be anything less than honorable was an egregious insult. It was the vilest and most cruel thing Toron could say, especially considering how pained and guilty he knew Victor must be because of Janda.

But of course Toron knew the accusation was baseless. He knew Victor was only helping, that Victor’s intentions were purely supportive and protective of the family. That wasn’t his reason for lashing out. He was angry because his eldest daughter was gone and his second daughter had sought counsel with the very person who had lost him the first.

Victor kept his voice calm. “Alejandra leaving has nothing to do with this, Toron.”

The shove to the chest happened fast, and since Victor wasn’t rooted to the floor with greaves like Toron, the force of it pushed Victor back twenty feet. His back slammed into one of the big air tanks, and the metallic clang of the impact reverberated through the cargo bay. It didn’t hurt terribly, but it shocked Victor and immediately got his blood up. He reoriented himself, switched on his greaves, and let his feet lock to the floor. When he lifted his head, he could see that Toron was just as surprised as Victor was. He hadn’t meant the shove to be so hard, and he certainly hadn’t intended for Victor to fly back as he had. But then Toron’s expression darkened and he pointed a finger.

“Never speak the name of my daughter again.”

Toron turned off his greaves and launched upward toward the hatch. A moment later he was gone. Victor stood erect and stretched his back. He’d get a bad bruise at the most, but it could have been worse. Had he landed wrong he could have broken something. Edimar was right to fear her father. Victor doubted that Toron had ever been violent toward his family-Janda would have told him if such a thing had ever happened, and it would be impossible to keep it a secret on the ship. Yet Toron clearly had the inclination.

Victor wanted to feel angry. He wanted the kindling fire of rage within him to flare up and spur him to find Toron, to confront him, to grab him by the arms and shake the pride and haughtiness and spite right out of him. The ache in his back demanded it. But whatever flames there were within him were extinguished by sympathy and shame.

The Council met on the helm after the young ones had all been put to bed. Everyone wore greaves, and as they gathered they spoke quietly, trying to garner whatever information they could from the others about the purpose of the meeting. Victor had come early and found a corner in the back of the room where the lighting was dimmer and the shadows more pronounced. He wouldn’t be invisible, but he’d go unnoticed by some.

It felt odd to be in attendance, partially because this was a side of the family Victor had never seen before, but also because he couldn’t shake the thought that the last time the Council had met they had been discussing him and Janda. It left him feeling awkward. What’s more, he had no reason for being here. The near-lightspeed ship was Edimar’s find, not his. He had nothing to contribute.

Mother and Father arrived. They saw Victor and came to him. Mother looked concerned. “What’s this all about, Vico?”

“The Eye detected something,” said Victor. “I only know about it because Edimar showed me. Toron will explain everything, I’m sure.”

She put a hand on his arm. “How are you?”

It was her way of asking about how he was dealing with Janda leaving. “Fine, Mother. It’s been a long day.”

To everyone else, Mother was Rena. Her original clan was from Argentina, and Victor had seen them only once as a child when El Cavador had linked with their ship for a zogging of Victor’s cousin. The experience had instilled in him a sense of awe for Mother. She had left a vibrant, loving family behind to join El Cavador and marry Father, and it must have taken incredible courage.

“I heard about the drill stabilizer,” said Father, smiling. “When were you going to tell me about that one?”

“I wasn’t sure it would work,” said Victor. “I’ll need your help refining it.”

“From the way Marco was gushing about it,” said Father, “I don’t know that it needs much refining.”

Father’s given name was Segundo, which meant “second” in Spanish. His parents had given him the name because he was their second child, and Victor had always found the name a little cruel. Who slaps a number on their child? Numbers were for livestock. And what’s worse, didn’t Father’s parents realize that to call him Segundo was like labeling him “runner-up” or “second best,” always inferior to the first child? Victor doubted that had been their intent, but it bothered him nonetheless, especially since Father had always been the first to do everything in his family. He deserved a better name.

Concepcion, Toron, and Edimar emerged from Concepcion’s office, and everyone fell silent. The three of them made their way to the holotable, and Concepcion faced the crowd. “I’ve called this meeting because we have some important decisions to make.”

Victor was surprised to see how informal the whole affair was, with everyone standing where they were, clustered in small groups of husbands and wives and friends. There was no counter to stand around, no gavel to hit, no ritual or procedure or order to follow. It was simply everyone coming together.

“I’ll let Toron and Edimar explain the whole thing,” said Concepcion.

She stepped aside, and Toron plugged the goggles into the holotable. A holo of the image Victor had seen earlier that day in the crow’s nest appeared in the holospace. It wasn’t much, mostly dots of light representing stars.

Toron was brief. He merely gave context to the image they were seeing, explaining when the data had been collected and what quadrant of sky they were looking at. Then, to Victor’s astonishment, he turned the floor over to Edimar. She was clearly nervous, and one person had to ask her to speak up so everyone in the room could hear, but Edimar immediately raised her voice and projected toward the back of the room. The increased volume seemed to steel her courage, and she dove right in. She spoke for ten minutes, being clear and thorough in her explanation. She went into great detail explaining the procedures she had undertaken to verify the data, including calling in Victor to validate her initial assessment. This caused several people to glance briefly at Victor before Edimar continued. There were a few highly technical details and procedures that were unique to the Eye that Edimar knew no one would understand, but she deftly explained these in layman’s terms so that everyone got the gist of it all. She then detailed the cross-checks that she and her father had subsequently performed and how everything had led her and him to believe what by now was obvious to everyone in the room. It was an alien starship decelerating toward the solar system. No, we don’t know its trajectory yet. No, we don’t know when it will get here. And no, we don’t know what its intentions may be.

When she finished there was silence. Mother and Father stared at the holo, their faces a little pale.

Finally Concepcion spoke. “The question we have to answer is: What do we do about this information?”

“Have we heard any chatter about this?” asked Father. “Have any of the other families reported anything?”

“Not a word,” said Concepcion. “There are few clans out this far right now, and it’s unlikely that any of them are looking beyond the ecliptic.”

“We obviously need to warn everyone,” said Mother. “We should send transmissions out as quickly as we can. Everyone needs to know about this.”

“As I said to Concepcion,” said Toron, “I’d advise us to proceed with caution. We don’t want to incite a panic. Consider the implications. If this is an alien starship moving at near-lightspeed, it clearly has technological capabilities far beyond our own. If it can move at near the speed of light, what else can it do? Can it detect radio? We don’t know. If we send a hundred focused, laserized transmissions out in every direction, we might unintentionally attract its attention. We might bring it down on top of us. It’s done nothing to acknowledge that it knows we exist. It’s probably best to keep it that way.”

“We can’t do nothing,” said Marco. “This could be an invasion for all we know.”

“Or it might be completely peaceful,” said Toron. “We don’t know. We have some information, yes, but not much. Hardly any, really. Is this a research vessel? Do they even intend to enter the inner solar system? Is it even manned? We have no idea. It could be a drone or a satellite sent to take images of our planetary system. If that’s true, it has to be an enormous satellite, bigger than anything humans have every constructed. But that doesn’t mean that’s not its intent. It might be completely benign.”

“Or it might not be,” said Marco.

“Yes,” said Toron. “Or it might not be. All the more reason not to rush to action and draw attention to ourselves. Edimar and I will watch it closely. We’ll be evaluating the data constantly, and we’ll make everyone aware of any new developments.”

“That’s not enough,” said Father. “I agree with Marco. This thing may be peaceful, but we shouldn’t assume that it is. We should prepare for the worst.”

“We should remain calm,” said Toron. “I suggest we take cautionary action.”

“Like what?” asked Father.

“If we send out a wide transmission that anyone can receive, we will draw unwanted attention to ourselves. We might attract pirates or thieves or worse. But, if we identify a few ships in the vicinity we trust, we can send out very focused laser transmissions only to them.”

“We haven’t seen pirates in a while,” said Selmo.

“That doesn’t mean they aren’t out there,” said Toron. “We can’t be too cautious. Particularly not in an unknown situation like this.”

“Who’s close to us right now?” asked Marco.

Selmo came to the holotable and flipped on the system chart. “The Italians are closest. They only left this morning. But they’re moving fast. We might hit them if we sent them a message now, but I doubt it.”

Laserized radio transmissions, or laserlines, had to be sent with extreme accuracy. Stationary ships and space stations could receive them fairly easily over short distances since the sender knew their exact position in space. But few ships remained perfectly stationary, especially if they were moored to an asteroid. Even the slightest deviation in position would result in a missed message. Trying to hit a ship in flight was next to impossible. It had been done, but only when the ships were extremely close.

“If the Italians stick with their scheduled flight path,” said Selmo, “they’ll decelerate in ten days. They gave us a point to target for communications when they stop. If we wanted to send them a laserline at that point, we could.”

“So we basically do nothing for ten days?” asked Marco. “If this is an invasion, we could be losing precious time. What if this thing is headed to Earth? Ten days could make all the difference.”

“There’s nobody closer?” asked Father.

“There’s a corporate ship a few days from here,” said Selmo. “A Juke vessel. They’ve been sitting there for a while doing nothing as far as we can tell. Assuming they haven’t moved since our last scan, we could send them a message.”

“What would we tell them?” asked Javier, one of Victor’s uncles. “‘Hey, there’s an alien ship out there. Keep your eyes peeled.’ They wouldn’t believe us.”

“They wouldn’t have to believe us,” said Toron. “If we showed them where to look and they had a decent sky scanner, they could see it themselves.”

“You said we could send the message to people we trust,” said Marco. “Since when do we trust corporates?”

There was a murmur of assent from the crowd.

“They’re the closet ship,” said Toron. “And therefore, they’re the best qualified vessel to see exactly what we’ve seen. If we want to corroborate our data, they’re the most sensible choice.”

“I don’t like working with corporates,” said Marco.

“Nor do I,” said Toron. “But if this object is indeed a starship, who better to tell than corporates? Their communication systems are far superior to ours. They have relay satellites across the system. If a warning has to be sent to Earth, they’re the people to do it, not us.”

The room was quiet a moment.

“Whatever this object is,” said Concepcion, “it won’t be close for at least several weeks and probably not for a few months. I think Toron’s recommendation to proceed with caution is wisest at this point. I am as alarmed as all of you, but if and when we send a warning, I want to have some degree of certainty as to what we’re dealing with. I suggest we notify this Juke vessel and give the Italians the same message in ten days. With all three of us analyzing this, we have a much better chance of understanding it. In the meantime we maintain our position, we continue with the dig, and we let Toron and Edimar track this thing. Any objections?”

“Yes,” said Victor.

Everyone turned to him. Concepcion looked surprised. “You have an objection, Victor?”

Victor scanned the room. Everyone stared. Some looked annoyed. It wasn’t his place to question Concepcion. He shouldn’t even be here.

“I mean no one any disrespect,” said Victor, “least of all you, Concepcion. But I don’t think this is our decision to make.”

“Of course it’s our decision,” said Toron. “Who else could make it?”

“Everyone,” said Victor. “This affects everyone. This changes everything. This is an alien starship. We have no right choosing when it’s revealed to everyone else. It affects the entire human race. We all agree that there are basically two scenarios here. Either it’s peaceful or it isn’t. If it’s peaceful, than we have nothing to lose by detaching from the rock now and sending out a transmission to as many ships and stations as we can hit. If there are pirates, they will react to the information, not to the people giving it. We should spread the word. We should inform the world. We get the news to Earth as quickly as possible. We let them decide how to proceed for themselves. And if this ship’s intentions are not peaceful, then we do the exact same thing. We warn as many people as we can and we start building defenses immediately. Toron suggests that by sending out a blanket transmission we might draw the attention of the alien ship and make ourselves its first target. But even if that’s true, so what? We’re eighty-seven people. There are over twelve billion people on Earth. If we have to sacrifice ourselves to protect millions or billions more, then we would do that.”

“It isn’t that cut and dried,” said Toron. “You’re making big assumptions about this ship when we don’t know yet if it is a ship. We know next to nothing.”

“That’s my point,” said Victor. “What right do we have to assume to be experts on this? Isn’t it far more likely that someone else will be better equipped to interpret this thing than we are? And who’s to say the Italians or even the Juke ship will be experts either? We should tell them, yes, but we should tell everyone else, as well. That creates the greatest likelihood of us learning as much as we can as quickly as we can.”

Toron turned to Concepcion. “With all due respect, ma’am, this is precisely why Council meetings are intended for people of a certain age and maturity. Vico’s intentions are good. And were this a mechanical problem, I would value his input greatly. But this is not a mechanical problem. He’s speaking of matters that he doesn’t fully understand. Nor should he be speaking at all since he isn’t a member of this Council.”

“I’m not a Council member, true,” said Victor. “But I am a member of this family. And more importantly, I’m a member of the human race, which could very well be threatened here.”

“Are you honestly suggesting that we put the safety of other ships, other families, complete strangers, above our own?” said Toron. “Above the safety of your own mother and father? Your cousins and aunts?”

“I’m suggesting that the preservation of the human race is more important than the preservation of this family.”

“You would abandon the family that quickly?” said Toron. “Well, I hope I never have to fight for this family with you at my side.”

Dreo nodded. “Everyone appreciates what you do, Vico, but this is an adult conversation.”

“What am I missing?” said Victor. “What am I failing to understand because of my age?”

“Do you know what it’s like to have a wife?” said Toron. “To have children?”

“Of course not,” said Victor.

“Then perhaps you can understand why we’d consider your suggestion a bit naive. I will emphatically reject any idea that puts my wife and children in danger. I would choose to save one of my own daughters over saving ten strangers. Or a hundred strangers. And so would every other parent in this room. It’s easy for you to speak of noble sacrifices when you have nothing to lose.”

“Toron’s right,” said Dreo. “Our first obligation is to ourselves. And let’s think about this diplomatically, too. If we cause an alarm and it proves to be nothing, we’ll look like fools to the other families. No one would zog with us, no one would trade with us. We’d do ourselves irreparable harm for no reason.”

“I’m not suggesting that we scream ‘invasion’ to the world,” said Victor. “I’m merely seconding my mother’s original suggestion. We tell everyone exactly what we know and allow them to look into it as much as we are. Why would anyone think less of us for our giving them irrefutable evidence? We don’t have to give them gloom and doom predictions. We just give them the facts. If anything, this would build our standing among the families. We would earn everyone’s gratitude and respect for informing them. Consider the situation in reverse: If we were to learn after an attack by an alien starship that another family knew of the existence of that ship and did nothing to warn us, we would despise that family. We would blame them for our losses.”

Toron turned to Concepcion. “Victor is your invited guest, Concepcion. But he is monopolizing the floor.”

“He hasn’t spoken any more than you have,” said Father.

“Yes,” said Toron. “And I am a member of this Council. He is not. He is disrespecting the captain.”

“She asked for objections,” said Mother. “He politely voiced one.”

“Which he had no authority to do,” said Toron. “I recognize that your son can do no wrong in your eyes, but by the code of this Council, he is out of line.”

“I happen to agree with him,” said Marco.

“I agree with him also,” said Toron. “Everyone here wants to do the right thing. Of course we will send a warning to everyone if that ever proves necessary. But right now is too soon. We don’t know enough. And for Victor to presume to know how pirates would respond is laughably naive.”

“We don’t even know if there are pirates this far out,” said Father.

“Exactly,” said Toron. “We don’t know. That’s why we should be prudent, not rash. I propose we put it to a general vote.”

“I second that,” said Father.

Concepcion looked at the crowd. “Objections?”

There were none.

“Very well,” said Concepcion. “All those who agree with sending out a blanket transmission immediately.”

A third of the room raised their hand, including Mother, Father, and Marco. Edimar raised her hand as well, but a withering look from her father made her put it down again. Victor kept his hand down since he wasn’t a member of the Council. Concepcion took a visible count, nodded, and said, “All those who feel we should inform only the Italians and Juke ship at this point.”

The remaining hands in the room went up, a much larger portion of people. Toron allowed himself a small, triumphant smile.

They were going to do nothing, Victor realized. Nothing immediate anyway, nothing significant, nothing that would ensure their safety in the coming months. They would send out two messages, and then they would sit and wait and hopefully learn something new.

Victor wasn’t going to wait with them. He couldn’t control when and how the family warned others, but he could control the mechanical functionality of the ship. He could make improvements to the ship’s defenses and weapons. He didn’t need Council approval for that.

The meeting was breaking up. People were dispersing.

“You tried, Vico,” said Mother. “I’m proud of you for that.”

“Thank you, Mother.” He turned to Father. “We should focus on the pebble-killers first.”

“Agreed,” said Father, already tapping a command into his handheld. “I’ll wake up Mono.”

Victor knew he wouldn’t have to explain himself to Father. It was obvious what they needed to do. They had to find a way to make the pebble-killers more powerful and lethal. With the whole ship helping, the work would have gone much faster, but now it was going to be just the three of them. Victor hurried from the room. Toron and others would probably think that his quick departure was that of a pouting teenager who had lost an argument, but Victor didn’t care. Let them think what they wanted. He had work to do.