My Work

Anthology

Miracles of the Apocalypse

“Miracles of the Apocalypse” is a series of six loosely connected Hard Science Fiction novels. Four of them are dystopic, the other two are space operas.

A vegetable species communicates only through emotions. Colonists are desperately searching for water on a planet without an atmosphere. An unknown modification of water suddenly appears. An old man is thrown back to his youth and a reporter discovers a deeply bizarre story.

The author evolves unconventional and imaginative ideas about what our universe could look like and presents them to you in an entertaining and thrilling way. Have fun!

The future looks completely different from what you imagine! The fireworks of absurd twists and turns in the style of Douglas Adams suddenly seem logical and comprehensible on closer inspection.

Extract:

The Prisoner’s Ship (first published 01.2020)

This short story is based on one I read in an anthology in the 1970s and unfortunately, I misplaced it.

Blurb: A space cargo ship is transporting two prisoners with empathic skills. They must have committed something horrible to be in this place. The crew researches the reason for the arrest warrant and instead of an indictment, they encounter a mystery. To solve it, they must plunge deep into the mind of an alien, plant-like species. Perhaps, too deep? Will they succeed before they must deliver their freight, or have they just been manipulated by their captives?

My name is Warg Bolton and today was the day I began my duty. I hovered with my luggage in front of the docking bay. Beside me stood my teammate Herb. His real name is unpronounceable to human tongues. The ship that was inching towards us was the one we both would be in charge of for the next six months.

Through a glassed-in hatch we saw its name pass by: HARKONNEN. It was a transporter, obviously a very old design. How rust can form out here in the vacuum will always be a mystery to me. Besides, it looked as if the right spare parts were no longer available during the last repairs, and they had to make do with whatever was lying around.

Such a ship does not have to be aerodynamic. So, towards the end of their lives, which can last up to 100 years, some freighters look more and more like a pile of scrap metal, seemingly held together only by their own low gravity, ready to drift apart at the slightest external nudge.

The HARKONNEN hauled special cargo: detainees. It had the task of returning criminals who have been apprehended somewhere in the galaxy on a galactic arrest warrant. These criminals are then brought back to their home planets where they would be sentenced. Personally, I think the name of the ship is an excellent reflection of its own function.

Reading antique literature was one of my few hobbies. It helped me get through the long hours when I had to keep watch on the bridge.

“I’m getting cold feet!”, Herb complained. He came from a world in the Orion sector that has a mostly tropical climate. It was even warmer than Earth after its climate change. That’s why he froze so easily, especially at the idea that only a thin layer separates him from the cold of space.

“You know I always told you to wear socks”, I teased back. It was a funny idea, at least for me, considering the size of his four feet, which are covered with huge suctorial organs.

“Bite me!”

Herb and I have known each other for a few years and when we work together, we get along well for the most part. That is also necessary, because six months crammed together on a ship can otherwise quickly turn into a hellacious trip. The guests that we are carrying will certainly not contribute to our entertainment.

Most of them belong to species I have seen perhaps once in my life. I don’t speak their language, if they have one at all. Bringing them out of their cells together for a coffee break would not be a good idea. Apart from that, it is strictly forbidden.

By now the two ships were almost fully docked. At first, we heard metal crunching against metal, then the hollow snap of the pressure clamps that firmly connected the two locks. It sounded through the big ship and ricocheted back to us as an echo after a split second.

After that it took a few more minutes, while automats tested the connection for airtightness. Finally, the airlock door opened with a squeaking sound that gave us both goose bumps. We floated into the decontamination chamber and waited until the ship’s rotation had started up again, providing us with gravity, causing us to sink to the bottom.

“If the bed squeaks you better oil it”, growled Herb as metallic tentacles sprayed us with an array of chemicals designed to keep the microbial exchange between the ships to a minimum. I won’t be able to get the penetrating smell of old video cassette cleaner out of my nose for days. Some things have never changed, and these disinfectant suds were one of them.

Finally, the procedure was over, and we dragged our luggage into the galley. This was also the recreation room, where we spent some of our free time, eating together, watching films or the news. We had to wait until the previous guards vacated their quarters and turned over their duties to us. As there was not much to say, this usually took no more than a few hours.

It may be surprising, but two people were enough to fly and maintain an almost fifty-meter-long vessel. Sometimes, even the two of us were too many. Everything was computerised even to the smallest details, a fact that was surprising considering the obsolete look of the system.

The processors were embedded deep in the metal, and everything was networked together with everything else. Sensors appeared everywhere, with camera eyes the size of a pinhead and small light fingers that swivel busily back and forth. The system found and eliminated program errors on its own, and if hardware intervention was necessary, there were always Herb and I, the wrenchers.

Lisa and Van picked us up. They kept the freighter in shape for the last six months. Their greeting was short and cold. They seemed tired and their minds were already set on the two-month holiday that awaited them. So, we only exchanged a few phrases. The mandatory walk through the ship dragged on. The prisoner cells were almost filled to capacity, and we had to have introductions about the inmates, who we were transporting.

We worked our way from cell to cell. Lisa told us something about the prisoners, what they had done, the destination planet and, in the case of rarer species, their language and way of life. We didn’t have a universal translator on the ship, as it was way too expensive. So, we had to make do if we ever needed to communicate with each other.

Very few of the inmates were human, but you get used to that. Contrary to what was imagined under Science-Fiction in the early history of mankind, the vast majority of aliens bear no resemblance to us. Even with the multitude of different suns and planets that populate our galaxy, it is too improbable that life would have taken even a similar path twice.

The species classes of mammals, reptiles, insects, birds, and fish exist exclusively on Earth. Nowhere else has the family tree of life split up in the same way. There are three-, five- and six-legged species, if they have legs and not tentacles, stalactites, or a hover drive. The chemistry of life is just as diverse, which means that separate supplies must be carried on board for each race.

What they all have in common is intelligence and the drive for knowledge. Over time, you learn to look past everything else. These are only externalities.

Few aliens are just as warlike as humanity. The longer a species existed, the more this childish urge to want to be the strongest and best everywhere was lost.

Fortunately, however, conquering alien planets is out of the question. The simple reason for this is that most of the theoretically habitable worlds offer living conditions that are unsuitable for mankind. Furthermore, their flora and fauna are poisonous to us in all their components.

Very few planets are even usable for colonisation, for example where higher life has not yet developed. However, even there, living conditions prevail that are suitable for a handful of species at most.

The subsequent terraforming process takes at least centuries.

Over the millennia, a kind of interstellar trading civilisation had developed. Everything was limited to the lowest common denominator: trade and the sharing of expertise. Agreements on prisoner exchange existed, because criminals cared little about territorial borders, no matter what the species was.

I secretly yawned and pretended to diligently take notes. It’s all in the ship’s computer database anyway. After a while we were leaving the area for oxygen/nitrogen breathers. There were also some alien species whose metabolism is so different from ours that even free atmospheric oxygen would be toxic for them. Just for this purpose, there was an extra area on the HARKONNEN, where atmospheres with gases that do not exist in free form on Earth-like planets are kept. We put on our protective suits and went inside.

“Only one unit is occupied here at the moment”, Lisa explained and Van checked off another item on her list. By this time, I was sure that she was also pretending to be attentive. We stepped outside the cell and looked through the force field that separated us from the occupants. Inside, sitting side by side on a cot, were two beings that looked slightly human-like.

They at least had two arms and legs on a purple body, even if these appeared grotesquely long and thin, ending in tufts of thread-like extensions. On what could have been a head sat a large bundle of buds on stalks, in a way it reminded me of the compound eyes some insects have. I didn’t detect any body openings that could serve for feeding or communication.

“They breathe hydrogen. Strictly speaking, they are vegetable. The feeders provide them with a nutrient solution, which they ingest with their root-like hands and feet.”

“How do they communicate?”, I asked.

“They are empaths or telepaths. We don’t know exactly. If you stay here for a long time, you start to feel their emotions and see things that can’t exist. We have stayed away from them as much as possible. You should do the same.” Lisa sounded nervous as she said this. Apparently, something had happened that prompted her to give this unusually strong warning.

They didn’t seem scary to me at all. Rather, they looked gangly and fragile with their thin long arms. They seemed to be in close contact with each other. Their limbs were in constant motion, almost as if they were caressing each other. About half of their eye buds were turned towards each other. When I looked at them longer, I felt something inside me. A kind of echo. When I closed my eyes, it felt friendly, like tenderness and mutual affection.

“Are they lovers?”, I asked.

“More like Bonnie and Clyde”, Van contradicted. “They’re at the top of their home planet’s wanted list. They must have done something terrible.”

I found that hard to believe, however, it was not up to people like us to decide. We just carry out orders and get them from A to B.

The tour was over. Lisa and Van said goodbye and we moved into our cabins. The ship is big, but we were not allowed much space. We were inventory, not payload. Fuel had always been the limiting factor over the millennia, despite new, revolutionary propulsion technologies. The flying palaces and cities that our ancestors dreamed of remained utopias.

We gave ourselves two hours, then we met on the bridge. The company expected a handover report. Herb first checked the repair logs of the past months. The result was not to his satisfaction. I never learned to read his facial features, but his body movements were clear. I didn’t have to understand the muffled, guttural curses he uttered in his native language.

“When our six months are up, the ship must go into dock. But we’ll have a hard time keeping it together until then”, he mumbled in Galactic Standard again afterwards. “A few bulkheads will have to be sealed so that we’ll still have enough air to breathe in a few weeks’ time. I guess our predecessors were too pretty to handle that. You humans are simply not suited for such rough work.”

I ignored the slap in the face. “Besides, it’s not true that they stayed away from the prisoners in the hydrogen section”, I added. “The hatches have been opened several times a day since Lisa and Van received the prisoner’s pod on board. What is your opinion of purple captives anyway? I must say, they don’t seem creepy to me. Did you sense their feelings too?”

“Only a bit, but I enjoyed it. Maybe they’ll spread good vibes around the ship. Then it’ll be easier to get through another six months with you.”

“It’s hard for me to imagine what bad things they could have committed. The two women could have felt the same way and are now ashamed to admit it.”

“That’s not our job anyway. We have to make sure the place is up and running. Look in the database, it should be in there. Now let’s get this report written.”

A slight vibration went through the ship’s hull. I felt it when I put my hand on the wall next to me. Our shuttle had left and brought Lisa and Van to the ore freighter that would take them to the next star base. Now we were alone with our prisoners. No, we were ALONE. Ideally, we wouldn’t see the prisoners at all for the next few months.

Their cells operated completely autarkically. Feeding and hygiene were taken care of and when the time came to hand them over, they were simply released from the complex and docked with the other ship. The cells were then replaced with a new empty or full one. The units even had a small engine. This allowed them to be used as escape pods in the unlikely event of an accident. Everything for the payload. Such a system was not planned for us, but fortunately the last accident in Federation space happened several years ago.

The report was written quickly. After that, things settled into a routine. The freighter steered itself to the next transfer point. Herb’s skills and intuition were only needed to calculate the hyperspace jumps. We worked hard and had most of the damage repaired quickly. Herb even somehow managed to oil the squeaking airlock. With his tentacles he effortlessly got into cracks and crannies that I couldn’t even see.

The mood between us was better than usual. Just like our predecessors, I regularly visited the two special prisoners in the hydrogen section. It was relaxing to watch their flowing movements. When the fine extensions of their hands touched, it was as if little sparks flew. Perhaps they possessed bioelectricity. Herb also seemed to find it soothing. In any case, he was often with them. By now we were sure that the two were a couple and that they empathically shared this with us.

“Every spaceship should have two of these on board”, he said at one point.

I researched our prisoners in the ship databases. They all had a history. It mostly involved murder and other acts of violence. In some cases, just serious fraud. Only on the two prisoners in the hydrogen sector I found nothing but this absurdly high classification of danger.

“I’ll transmit a request for the missing data”, I said to Herb. “Maybe the home planet of this species is more talkative.”

“Warg Bolton. Putting his foot in his mouth”, was not the answer I wanted to hear.

Of course, he was right. The answer consists of only one sentence.

‘Don’t meddle in our internal affairs!’

Of course, this only stimulated my ambition. Herb followed my efforts with his two pairs of eyes and a movement of his communication mouth that I interpreted as a mocking grin. We both learned to live with our quirks. So, in my spare hours I scoured the HARKONENS’ database for clues about this mysterious species.

Unfortunately, the purpose of the memory banks was not to impart general knowledge. Most of the in-depth knowledge had more or less to do with the ship and its functions. The only information I found about our occupants was that the day of first contact occurred only a few decades ago. The Federation was still in negotiations about a status quo.

So, I sat with our prisoners, wishing that communication was possible. They certainly didn’t seem to know the standard Galactic Script. I walked along in front of the force field several times with inscribed tablets like a showroom girl, but I wasn’t worth more than one or two of their bud eyes to them. I sensed their presence and suspected that they could sense mine too. But that wasn’t enough. If they were really telepaths, that would seem to require direct contact. Just too risky.

When I returned to the galley in frustration, Herb greeted me with an attention-seeking movement of his tentacle arms that he always performed when he was aroused or watching one of his alien pornos.

“You’ve turned up the heating again”, I complained.

“How else am I supposed to work? You can turn your own cabin into a refrigeration chamber, but here I also have an input.”

“Then I’ll work in underwear from now on”, I menacingly said.

That had an effect. A tremor ran through his body. Then he reached across the room with one of his tentacles and turned the control back a tiny bit. Then he got back to me.

“It’s about time you came here. You’re missing the best part.”

“In that porno you’re watching right now? Did the actress pop a silicone boob?”

“Very funny. The ship has reported in. She thinks we should pick up fuel at the nearest star base.”

“Did she also plan a week’s holiday for us?”

“Of course not. But you have been given a shopping list. Apparently, there are newer maps for the quadrant where our next handover points are.”

“More detailed maps? They wouldn’t happen to also concern…”

“Yes, they do.”

The next day I told our prisoners about it. If they understand the information, they didn’t reveal it to me. Only the echo of their feelings in me grew stronger. With each passing day, I began to feel closer to them. I could understand their situation. They were all alone in a hostile environment, flying towards an uncertain fate. The only thing they had was their love for each other. Deep down, I also longed for such absolute bliss, knowing that my own species was not capable of it.

A warning from Van arrived in my inbox. ‘Be careful with Bonnie and Clyde. Lisa was trying to see if they were telepaths and touched them. She nearly died. Those two are more electric than eels!’

At the star base we first exchanged some prisoner cells. We gave them several pods with jellyfish-like creatures that lived in water. In what was water on their planet. It contained large amounts of hydrogen sulphide and arsenic. In return we got some individuals of a radially symmetrical species that looked like a hybrid between wagon wheels and millstones. They moved by deforming and rolling their bodies. Their voices sounded shrill and not very harmonious. I found them unpleasant and was glad that I didn’t have to deal with them any further.

Later, I got the necessary files for our ship. In the remaining time until we took off again, I made a few video calls to the home base. Nele, my wife, was surprised to hear from me so soon. I explained the situation. I told her that I missed her, even if that was only part of the truth.

“Maybe this is your last mission in space”, she said, beaming at me. “Actually, I wanted to wait until Christmas Eve before I told you. You’ve accumulated enough years of service now. Father says he can put you in administration. Then you wouldn’t have to leave so often. What do you think?”

I understood her joy, even if I didn’t share her dream. I would much rather spend our next phase of life on the colony world Terra Nova. Terraforming was already well advanced there.

I didn’t tell her that because she wouldn’t understand. Nele had never left the earth in her entire life, not even the city where she was born. She didn’t have my need for unconsumed air and open skies above us. She would also never understand what I found in it.

We made small talk for a while. Father-in-law got us a bigger flat. Now we needed new furniture. I told her that she would manage. Then she left the room for a moment and came back with our two little ones. They had just fallen asleep and were blinking tiredly at the camera with their cuddly toys. I give them a few caresses and then finished the call. I couldn’t bear the closeness at that time.

I still had one call left on the list: Helen, a friend from university. She now worked at the Institute of Astroethnology, and I hoped that she could get the missing information about our plant like guests for me. She told me what happened to her the last months, and I told her about my problem. She nodded in understanding.

“The new Hydrogen Species, you say? We actually don’t know much about the Az’e’ess, how they name their selves. So don’t get your hopes up, but I will interview the ambassador. He has just come back from the status-quo negotiations. I was going to have a meeting with him anyway. Maybe he knows something. Oh, and send me pictures of the two of them.”

A few hours later I was back on the ship and the tanks were full. I had the drive for the ship’s computer. Since there were also some humans working on this base, I was even allowed to take some fresh vegetables from their hydroponic gardens. From one of the vendors, I managed to buy more food that was not on the menu, that the company allowed us to eat. When the smell of fried Wasabu meat wafted through the ship, one of the few foods that is equally digestible for both of us, Herb was there in an instant.

“It looks like you’ve started something useful with your time”, he greeted me.

“Costed a small fortune. Enjoy it.”

He shovelled the tentacled meat into his eating mouth with breath-taking speed. I worried that in his greed he would bite off the tips of the tentacles, for the mouth bears several rows of pointed teeth, but I knew he was grateful to me. He left the less dirty jobs to me in return. I collected a particularly large number of karma points from him with a new porno. I pressed the chip into his hand after dinner and saw how his pairs of eyes lit up. Then I went to the bridge and installed the map update.

It took a while for the ship to convert the new data into its system. The times when you could still measure amounts of data in bytes were long gone, there only existed various levels of ‘gigantically large’. Finally, the desktop reappeared, and I zoomed into the new map section.

The maps were available in a much better resolution than the old material. It contained data about a stellar stream located on the edge of our galaxy. In the last centuries, no inhabited worlds were recorded there. Therefore, the map was only available in a lower scale. This changed since the time we established contact with the Az’e’ess. The image, which the photo drones had meticulously recorded over the last ten years, built up as quickly and sharply as usual.

However, some artefacts in the footage showed me that the drones would have been better off flying a few more rounds. I quickly spotted the solar system in question. It was marked with a purple asterisk. This stood for ‘hydrogen breathers, unsuitable for humans’. I scrolled in and found a K-type star orbited by only one Mars-sized inner planet. It was at the very edge of the zone that the computer had identified as habitable for this system. I zoomed in further and the physical data were displayed:

Diameter 9,000 km      

Gravity 0.7 g 

Planetary magnetic field approx. 200 µT

Average surface temperature 281 K       

Highly volcanic             

Atmosphere 30% hydrogen, 65% carbon dioxide, 5% methane and noble gases.        

Hydrosphere (15% of the surface) consisting of small seas and lakes with high phosphate content.

Satellites: two, very small          

Intelligent life: yes

The special characteristic of this world was its strong magnetic field, which reached far beyond the atmosphere and prevented it from simply being blown into space by the solar wind. A distinction between plant and animal life did not seem to have taken place in the course of development. All species of life on the surface derived their energy to a greater or lesser extent from sunlight.

Dense purple forests covered the latitudes near the equator. The greenhouse effect from the carbon dioxide and methane in the atmosphere kept the temperature almost at Earth’s level, even though this planet received much less radiation from its sun. For humans, this world was almost breathtakingly strange and proof that the power of evolution also works in very unusual places.

Unfortunately, that’s all I could find. Information about ethnology and culture was usually not included in such maps. I had to rely on Helen for that.

By now we had crossed the narrow rift at the edge of the galaxy and were inside the star stream where the next transfer point was located. In the short intervals between our hyperspace jumps, we could survey the spirals of our home galaxy in all its glory. They were much brighter than I was accustomed to the Milky Way on Earth.

Perhaps, however, everything else was just much dimmer. The star stream is too rarefied in comparison to be visually noticeable. That’s why one half of the sky was pitch black. Only a few of our neighbouring galaxies were suspended in the blackness of space like oversized dreamcatchers.

It was remarkable that there seemed to be several planets with living conditions suitable for hydrogen breathers. There only appeared to be a handful in the entire rest of the galaxy. The stream had a different history than the Milky Way. The remnant of a larger star cluster or dwarf galaxy were captured by the gravitational field of our own galaxy a long time ago.

In the next few days, we would get a lot of work to do again. A dispute in the prisoners’ area took place. The creatures with the appearance of millstones didn’t feel they were being treated appropriately. Their cells were spaced too far apart in the wing. Their high-pitched, whistling voices were already hard to tolerate at normal volume for most hearing species.

Now that they were communicating with each other over a dozen cells away, it sounded like a baboon enclosure at feeding time. Before they started screaming, they pumped their bodies up with air so much that they appeared almost spherical. Then, when they got going, they effortlessly produced a volume similar to the propulsion jets of the freighter taking off from a planet.

We stayed as far away from this quarrel as possible. Normally, the inmates in the cells settled this among themselves, but then the vital signs of some particularly sensitive prisoners dropped dangerously and we had to intervene. We started a round of changing horses and moved the cell units against each other until the screamers were at the very end of the wing and the sides of the doors with the force fields were facing away from the other into space. This action took almost a whole day, and we were already deep in the star stream when it finally ended.

In the meantime, Helen’s reply came in via hyperlink. She sent a message with a number of documents attached.

Dear Warg,

thank you for the pictures.

I have spoken to the ambassador. Your sense for unpleasant situations has always been excellent. Thank you SO much for getting me caught up in one of your situations again.

It was already problematic to get to him at all. His health was very badly affected because he could only stay in a protective suit for months. The Az’e’ess, as the hydrogen breathers call themselves, insisted that the negotiations took place on their planet’s surface. They had not developed space travel and seemed to have no interest in it. However, they had converted some of our freighters for their purposes and used them to import metals, which were rare on their planet. This is probably how your prisoners left the planet.

Their attitude towards us was dismissive, as was the ambassador’s attitude towards me. Since their empathic abilities were not only receiving but also transmitting, they let the ambassador participate in this extensively. This unfriendly environment over many weeks had a severe impact on his nerves. He behaved consequently stressed towards me. In my unofficial but correct opinion, he is fit for a sanatorium.

I haven’t heard anything about the negotiations, except that they are very prolonged. Some things are already progressing quite well, but the two of us will probably never again experience functioning trade relations based on mutual understanding. Their culture is far too foreign for that. I only received several documents. The Az’e’ess have translated some of them into Galactic Standard for us.

Unfortunately, the texts are not yet comprehensible to us because of this. The most important thing to them seems to be a book-of-the-family, a kind of doctrine or religion by which they live. We will need some time to get into the mindset and understand the content. What I find more revealing is a series of notes from the ambassador. They probably contain what you want to know. I have enclosed them for you. Have fun with them.

Perhaps you could keep me informed about what you are planning. If you have such a task again in the future, please find someone else suitable. Thank you.

Helen

It looked like I had to apologise to her. I wrote a long message but didn’t send it because I couldn’t think of enough suitable words. Diplomacy was not my core competence.

Over the next few hours, I worked my way through the documents. I felt sorry for the ambassador when he described how difficult it was to pick himself up every day and face the rejection with friendly determination. This must have exhausted him and contrasted sharply with the behaviour shown by our two prisoners.

Sometimes I think he was writing about a completely different species. He explained how the negotiations took place. The Az’e’ess always appeared to him in pairs and always made physical contact with each other. There was always one male and one female. The younger pairs only had a loose connection. The older ones seemed to be fused together in various parts of the body and then sprouted a kind of sapling from their lower body regions, which presumably later developed into independent individuals. The ambassador asked once if he was guessing correctly. Their reaction was, as usual, harsh.

Apparently, however, despite their general unfriendliness, the Az’e’ess made an effort to show some goodwill, because he received an answer to his question a few days later. According to their perspective, the ‘saplings’ separated from their parents when they were still young, a process described as very painful for both sides.

They remained alone for only a short time and bonded as quickly as possible with a young person of the opposite sex. They stayed together with them for the rest of their lives. Excess female and male specimens who didn’t find a partner endangered the Purity-of-Family and were executed. However, this only occurred very rarely because the ratio between the sexes was very balanced. The Purity-of-Family was above all, and no one would question the Book-of-Family.

The last document contained a series of pictures taken during the negotiations. I skimmed over them and froze inwardly. The Az’e’ess always appeared in pairs. The two sexes that come together to form a partnership looked so fundamentally different, that it became immediately clear to me that our prisoners belonged to the same sex.

“So what?”, was Herb’s reaction when I told him this over breakfast. “You’re not going to tell me that they’ve been put on the wanted list just because their love is not for procreation?”

For Herb, this remark was fine. His species stood outside our vision of sexuality, and I was impressed that he could even grasp the problem in the first place.

“That’s what it looked like. On their planet, they will be executed for their homosexual behaviour.”

“Sometimes I hate my job.”

Suddenly, alarm sirens went off. A heavy thud shook the ship. The lamps faded out and the red emergency lights came on.

We rushed onto the bridge and saw the mess. A boulder several metres in diameter floated inertly in front of the bridge window. It probably just made close contact with the ship’s hull.

“Fuck, how could this happen?” Herb was beside himself and his tentacles performed a hypnotic whirl in front of my eyes. “Look at the radar. There are more of them. A lot more!”

I compared the ship’s map with reality. We were located in an asteroid belt belonging to a dwarf star. Only that the new map was blank at that point.

“Even when I scanned the map, I had the feeling that it was only moderately accurate and that the drones mainly flew through the populated areas of the stream.”

“But they can’t miss an entire star system!” Herb’s voice was on the verge of snapping, and for a few seconds it reminded me of the sounds of the millstone species that kept us in suspense for the last day.

“Looks like they can after all.”

We were surveying the damage. The HARKONNEN’s shields had prevented our immediate destruction, but the danger was far from over. More asteroids were flying towards us. We couldn’t warp due to the number of rocks around us. The computer didn’t have enough power to calculate correct parameters in this case. The only choice was to manoeuvre around the asteroids at slow pace. Herb calculated a course that involved as few further collisions as possible – we couldn’t avoid them altogether – and then accelerated the ship to slow speed.

“Looks like the new maps are bugged!”, I cursed. “Sometimes I hate being right.”

“I’ll go ahead and get ready for the repairs.” Herb had calmed down in no time at all and now seemed more relaxed than I felt.

“I’ll join you as soon as we’re out of the danger zone.”

That took a few hours. We still had to survive several more collisions. They were not as bad as the first one and the shields withstood it. If the objects were as massive as they looked, we would be doomed. Fortunately, most of the projectiles were mostly water, dust, and dry ice, and when they hit the shields, they dissipated into a dirty cloud that obscured our view. Without the radar we would be screwed today.

But the shocks weigh heavily on us, nonetheless. The alarm lights on the docking zones of the prisoner cells activated one after the other. The aft section with the storerooms decompressed. Fortunately, the freshly welded bulkheads were holding. After what felt like an eternity, the radar became clear again. We appeared to have gained enough distance from this dwarf star. I stopped the engines.

We worked through the next 24 hours. First, we had to measure the areas that had not been decompressed for leakages. Then we stabilised the prisoners’ cells. Some were struck during the catastrophe. They had broken away from the ship and were floating somewhere out there among the asteroids. We couldn’t gather them anymore, but we could save most of the remaining cells. As soon as the magnetic clamps that became loose got power again, they secured the cells and the red lights on the bridge disappeared one by one. The hydrogen section even seemed entirely undamaged.

Next, we sat together on the bridge and compiled information for the report to the company HQ. The stellar system, which was not on the map, caused a lot of damage. Fortunately, the stars in this region were spread so far apart that a repeat of this accident was extremely unlikely. After we had repaired the worst damage within a few days, we could continue flying relatively safely.

Herb went to sleep first. For now, it was better to always have someone on watch. So, I sat on the bridge with a large mug of synthetic coffee and kept an eye on everything. Meanwhile, the ship systematically scanned the surroundings and added information to our maps. Better late than never. After a few hours, I was just about to nod off, when suddenly a purplish asterisk flashed on the navigation monitor. I was awake again immediately. Obviously, this sun-system had planets and the software had just classified one of them as suitable for hydrogen breathers!

I instructed the computer to analyse the parameters of that world more closely. It was not exactly a twin of the hydrogen breathers’ home planet, but the similarity is strong enough to … I started to formulate a plan. After my sleep phase was also over and I was also sure that I hadn’t imagined anything in my drowsiness, I talked to Herb.

“You can’t keep your mind off of it, right?” he grinned at me with his toothless communication mouth.

“You must admit that they want to kill those lovers so easily for something they can’t help. That doesn’t suit you either.”

“Of course, I don’t like it. But you’re just doing other people’s jobs again.”

“Only if you can bear it.”

“Go on, do it. Ask them.”

I loaded a tablet with the planet’s data, its gravity, mass, atmosphere, and temperature. Hopefully, my idea would work and the two Az’e’ess would understand enough Galactic Standard to realise our proposal. Then I slipped into the protective suit and entered the area of our two enamoured guests.

“Hey!”, I shouted, hoping to get their attention, and held the tablet out to them through a gap in the force field.

At first nothing happened. The two of them sat opposite me, tightly embraced. I called out once more and suddenly some of their budding eyes turned towards me. One of them hesitantly stretched out one of his long arms towards me and touched the tablet. The second he took it, a violent, electric shock went through me.

However, at the same time I felt the emotions they had for each other so intensely. It was almost as if I were a part of it, as if their kindness included me. It was a marvellous feeling. Apparently physical contact enhanced empathic reception, even if it was only via a roundabout way through an object. I was alone in my head again after a few far too brief seconds. The two were focused on the display, without interrupting their physical contact for even a split second.

I realised that this could have just ended badly. Van warned me about the electric charge of the Az’e’ess and I didn’t think about it. My whole arm tingled, and my fingers felt numb. After a few minutes it improved again. Perhaps it was just a side effect of their unusual form of communication. In any case, the blow didn’t feel life-threatening.

I waited. Nothing happened for a while. Then suddenly there was a new emotion in the room. The other of the two passed the display back to me. The moment we both held it, their electricity ran through me again, still strong, but no longer as painful as the first time. This time I also saw sparks flying around the tablet. In parallel, the two of them showed me their feelings again. I now felt joy next to their never-ending love for each other. Overwhelming, great joy.

I told Herb about my experience. “I hope this is their way of saying ‘yes’”, he growled. “Let’s get going.”

We set course for the planet and prepared to release the capsule into its atmosphere. Its auxiliary engines should ensure a safe landing. Once down, the force field would dissipate, releasing them. There was plenty of suitably mineral-rich water down there, so they probably wouldn’t need the food supplies.

We were both at the docking bay when I switched off the magnetic clamps. The pod detached and floated through a gap in the shields towards the planet, while passing very close to our viewing hatches. At that moment, we felt the empathic connection to our plant-like friends for the last time. The emotion spreads inside us and flooded us with … this time it was clearly gratitude.

Again, the feeling lasted far too briefly. As it faded, all that remained was the emptiness I’ve been feeling for a few weeks now when I was alone. Definitely unpleasant. I hoped it would also disappear again.

“I guess this is their way of saying goodbye”, I said.

We both returned to the bridge deep in thought. I added the hydrogen-breather capsule to the casualty report. Our friends were safe now. No one would look for them here. Then we prepared ourselves for the return flight to the next star base.

“Do you know what day it is today?”, Herb asked me later when we were sitting together and watching a film.

“No idea. I’ve completely lost track of time.”

“I don’t mean the standard galactic calendar. On Earth, it’s now December 24th. For you humans, it’s Christmas Eve.”

“How do you know this?”, I asked, dumbfounded.

“Foreign cultures are one of my hobbies. And … well, you’re not so completely foreign to me anymore.”

I blushed and thought that I had no idea what kind of holiday it might be now in Herb’s world.

“I have the feeling that contact with the two Az’e’ess has changed us. Perhaps, at some point, we have become something like friends.”

“I think we simply know one another better. You never used to bring me any meat.”

“By-the-way”, I distracted before the situation got too emotional, “I wonder if our new friends will be happy out there?”

“We’ll never know, but I’m sure we did the right thing.”

“Me too. Merry Christmas, Herb.”

“Merry Christmas, my friend.”

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About the author:

Mike Gorden is a German science fiction writer and a self-published author. His main work is the “Moíra Cycle”, whose volumes “The Universe in a Dewdrop”, “The Frozen Big Bang”, “Empath”, “The Secret of the Undead” and “Neutron Rider” have so far been only published in the German language.

This is about to change.

In the beginning, he, and his friends (special thanks to Hayashi Itsuki and Martin Theobald!) have translated a series of six hard science fiction novels which he wrote in the early years of his career. You will find them collected in this volume. They are loosely connected, and their plot is partly dystopian in nature.

He has chosen to use British English. We hope that the quality of the translations is sufficient to present Mike Gorden’s unconventional and imaginative ideas about what our universe could look like in an entertaining and thrilling way.

Feedback and critique are welcome!