Beth

All electronics had come online when the alien ship had vanished. This suggested that their method of suppressing electricity had done no permanent damage. Why would the aliens want to cripple them and not outright destroy them? Kidnap and dissect us, or talk and trade with us?

A few hours of sleep. Beth’s body craved rest, food and water. The IV drip hooked into her arm helped against the dehydration, but recovery was slow. Her patience tested. Between the cycles of sleep she drank fluids until she wanted to puke. Back at Callisto she had learned that the body could only absorb a certain amount of water during each hour, but still she forced down an abundance of it. She hated being dehydrated. Chapped, bleeding lips. Headaches. Instead of accelerating the recovery process she instead had to pee a lot. All the time! She watched how the yellow pee traveled through the transparent catheter connected to her bladder in one end and connected to a waste bag in the other. The personnel had to change that bag every hour.

Awake, again. She sat up in bed, grabbed the water bottle from the side table and greedily emptied it. Her chapped lips stung, but she ignored the pain.

The contrast between the fight against the combat suits, when she had first awakened in this ship, and the fight against the aliens was sharp. Her hypothesis stood true. By training her body with only her normal human strength, her inhuman strength had been enhanced. The body’s liquids were used as fuel for the power; it determined strength and duration depending on how she used it. The conclusion after the ‘tests’ proved that the hypothesis stood true; it was like adding an additional input parameter for calculating the effect. Did Saif know this? Probably. But how would the increase of normal strength affect other types of powers? A booster.

Tom snored in the chair beside the bed. His hair unwashed and rumpled. The Admiral had put a gun to the kid’s head. A knot of rage twisted in her stomach. Jaws clenched. She had started to trust the Admiral. Lisa had been moved out of the picture and her posse almost certainly dispersed. Some of them might be alive, but what resistance could they offer? Additionally, the ship’s crew had been diminished in numbers after the encounter. An opportunity presented itself. Could Beth and Tom seize control of the ship? The odds were stacked in their favor more than before, that was the fact. But she would need Tom’s help.

Beth yanked out the tubes connected to her veins. The IV splashed to the floor instead. Sweetness on the tip of her tongue spread through her mouth. Her body grew vigorous and awake. She let the power trickle slowly, unsure about the amount of liquids she had been able to recover. Be smart. She just needed enough strength to talk and leave the bed, for now.

“Tom,” Beth said.

No response.

Beth stood up. The hospital gown covered her slightly. A ship overall laid on a table beside the bed. She stepped into it and zipped. Her muscles were sore, her stomach wound an agony, but the sweetness shed the sense of them off. With hands on Tom’s shoulders she shook him.

“Tom!” Beth said.

Tom came about with a snort. “Ehh. What?”

Beth smiled. “On your feet, Tom.”

“Should you not rest? After all you have been through,” Tom said.

“No. The Admiral also thinks I am out. This is our time to strike,” Beth said.

Tom looked afraid. “You are talking about mutiny.”

Beth frowned, irritated. “They put a gun to your head. They disregarded the threat Lisa posed. We cannot trust them. Their numbers are few and Lisa disabled.”

“Yeah,” Tom said, hesitating. “But they have guns. Big guns.”

“Me too,” Beth said, brandishing her biceps. Thin as twigs, but the sweet taste in her mouth reminded her of the true strength’s origin.

“And it is illegal. Illegal!” Tom exclaimed.

Admiral Harris stormed into the room. “Beth! The monitor told me you left the bed.”

Two guards in combat suits behind the Admiral; all three held laser rifles in their hands. Never easy. Beth turned to them and increased the sweetness from a trickle to a flood.

“How many men do you have left?” Beth asked.

Admiral Harris hands clenched hard on the rifle, his eyes focused. “Calm down, Beth.”

“Right, about that,” Beth said.

Feet offset. Knees slightly bent. Skin flowed into metal. She leapt forward. The two combat suits stepped in between, but they were thrown back by an invisible force. She grabbed and crushed the Admiral’s rifle before lifting him by the throat.

“Stop, Beth. We are on your side!” Admiral Harris coughed out.

“Ha. Screw your damn space city. I am going home,” Beth said, fingers clutched a bit harder. The Admiral’s face turned blue.

The Admiral could have killed her while she slept. Tom had sat guard, but he had fallen asleep too. They had their opportunity. Why had they not acted? She eased her grip. Admiral Harris landed hard on the floor and gasped for air.

Admiral Harris rearranged the collar of his uniform. “You are so blind sometimes! Always angry and lashing out. We could have killed you, but didn’t. We are going back to Earth.”

“Why then did you storm in with combat suits and guns? How did you expect me to react?” Beth said, livid.

Tom sat still in the chair.

“I am not sure how you will ever react. There is no need for you to be violent. The Au-delà failed its mission, our crew has been reduced too much to staff all functions needed to build a space city. But we have another mission. Far more important. Humanity needs to be warned about these aliens,” Admiral Harris explained. “Their existence changes how we view the world and our place in it.”

“We are going back?” Beth asked.

“Yeah. The return trip will take fifteen years. I think you will want to sleep through that,” Admiral Harris said. “Or at least on a crew rotation schedule.”

“Put me into that pod right now. I am going home,” Beth said, forgetting about the interaction between cell regeneration and hibernation sleep.

“You were too angry before and now you are too eager. In hibernation sleep your metabolism is considerably slowed down and thus the regeneration of cells is also slowed.

Beth knew this already, how could it have slipped her mind? Embarrassing.

“Back to bed,” Admiral Harris said, gesturing before leaving the room.

She jumped back into the bed and pulled out her hand terminal. To take notes she needed a text editor. She opened a new document and wrote down some stubs just to get started.

A nurse connected her to the IV drip again and Beth uttered an apology.

“What are you doing?” Tom asked, leaning forward.

Beth typed as she talked. “The aliens certainly have a higher level of technology, being able to turn off all electronics. If they boarded with ill intent, why did they not destroy us from a distance?”

“Maybe…,” Tom started but she interrupted him.

“Why did only two of them board? Maybe they only flew with two crewmembers. Or they were meant as some kind of recon unit. Testing our resistance, weapons and technology level,” Beth said.

“Do you want me to leave?” Tom asked.

Beth trudged on. “Who opened fire first? I believe that Admiral Harris said we humans did, but we cannot be sure how the aliens think or function.”

Tom walked for the door.

“No, no, Tom. Stay. I just don’t want to drop my line of thought. Listen and then we can discuss,” Beth said.

“Right,” Tom replied.

“How come the two creatures were so vastly different? Could they be two different alien races? Maybe some kind of symbiotic relationship has been formed between them. One looked metallic and machine like, the other fleshy and animal like. How come? Did they come in pairs, somehow linked through their evolutions?” Beth said and typed. “Tom, we have to figure out if the aliens came in peace or war. What circumstances would invoke each of them?”

“If it was their first contact with us, maybe they just wanted to talk?” Tom said.

“Aliens, Tom. Any kind of communication we humans could dream of would probably never be compatible with them,” Beth said. “But their higher form of technology might. If they wanted to trade, they would have come in peace. If they wanted our resources or steal our biomass they would come for war, I think.”

“Hopefully, in peace,” Tom whispered.

Why had the kid become so quiet in her presence? It was unlike him. Had they not become friends?

“We can only speculate,” Beth said. “And await what happens next.”

Tom looked confused. “What happens next?”

“They left abruptly. Why?” Beth said. “Did we scare them away? Are they going back home to regroup and prepare for an attack? Or preparing a method for communication? It all comes down to how they reacted and thought about us. What their intentions were. We cannot find them, but they can probably find us. We wait for their reaction,” Beth said and looked at Tom. “But we have to prepare for both alternatives. Peace and war. I am pretty sure that after the Admiral tells the tale for mankind they will prepare for war. So, it is up to us to prepare for peace.”

Tom sat down on the edge of the bed. “Are you sure? Why?”

“Since we can only speculate, both scenarios are just as likely to be true,” Beth said. “If they still want peace, we need to meet that. Humanity will go wild and even if the aliens are hostile or not, humans are bound to start a war with them. What will happen then?”

Tom held a look in disbelief. “Okay, okay. I am starting to see your point. You want to avoid a war at any cost. But if they came in peace, why did the fleshy one shoot you?”

“Self defense and revenge. That creature was furious, I cracked open his friend. He or she wanted to crack open me. They fought back to survive,” Beth said. “Humans are stupid. We opened fire first because we don’t understand them. Violence is easier than logic for many of us.”

“Not for all of us,” Tom muttered.

Beth looked down. “Violent tendencies are a part of us. I guess you have not read any psychological studies between animals and humans? Humans are far more violent against each other than other animals. And we are supposed to be the clever ones. The difference between a cave man and the modern man is his choice of weapon, stones and sticks have become lasers and nuclear warheads.”

Tom gave her a food bar. “What? Does it have something to do with our DNA?”

“Man is screwed in the head,” Beth said.

“Most of us. Like you, but not me,” Tom said.

“What?” Beth asked, oblivious.

Tom scooted closer. “I don’t like when you fight. You get so angry. You kill. Destroy. Even when Lisa was subdued you grabbed her head. You wanted to kill her.”

Beth sighed. “Of course I was mad! She tried to kill me and you. I just wanted to get rid of her once and for all. I don’t want to worry about her anymore.”

“But killing an unarmed, subdued person. It makes you the criminal. A murderer,” Tom said. Tears trickled down his young face.

The rage. It was in her gut again. Like a knot twisting and building the anger. Sweat pricked her neck.

“I just wanted you to feel safe,” Beth said.

“An educated woman like you tried to murder. You are just like Lisa and nothing like my mom and me. You enjoyed it!” Tom said, exiting the room, crying.

Beth sat in silence. The kid would understand. Some people would not understand the reason. She had tried! Both with Lisa and Admiral Harris. These people only understood violence. But still, something small nagged at the back of her head. Was she the one going mad? For real? Before this. Before her powers she would never have clutched her hands around another person’s head. It was easier, quicker and a permanent end. Some people deserved to die. And now she had the tools to do so. Tom would have to get used to it.

She put away the hand terminal. Had she enjoyed it? Yes. The rush when she charged into the battle. A call for action.

-

Admiral Harris came to see her, he brought coffee and handed a mug to her.

“Me and the kid have arrived at some conclusions,” Beth said and sat up in bed with the coffee mug in her hands, her fingers tingling with warmth. “The aliens could have come in peace.”

“You are not suggesting what I think you are suggesting? If we had not opened fire first they would have,” Admiral Harris said, sipped coffee. “They were animals with guns. Have you ever been in a real firefight? No. Strike first and strike true, that is how you win and survive in war.”

Beth showed him the hand terminal and some of the notes she had typed down. The Admiral’s face stayed stone cold as he read.

“No,” Admiral Harris said. “You are just trying to be fancy.”

“We might have just started a war,” Beth said.

Admiral Harris smirked. “Those things disabled and boarded my ship! How should that not be regarded as hostility? You joined in and saved us. We are alive because of you.”

Chin dipped, Beth looked down. The Admiral was half right. She had saved the ship, the crew and the powered. But how would those events have transpired if they had not opened fire against the aliens?

Admiral Harris snagged the hand terminal from her hands. “Electronics were dead, thus our laser rifles were not working. We tried to use projectile weapons. The effect was minimal. But the floating orb would not care, it cut us down regardless. Like sheep lined for slaughter. Your powers somehow hurt it real good.”

“It didn’t notice,” Beth said.

“We will try some new weapon designs. Still projectile rifles which don’t need electronics, but they need to be improved greatly if they will be able to even dent those things. We will test them against the orb they left,” Admiral Harris said.

Beth froze, the orb had died. She had seen it crack and ooze. “How? It died along with that nightmare creature. Were there more orbs in the ship?”

“No. I think it is still ongoing, you can come and look if you are up to it. The alien ball started to absorb its friend’s fleshy corpse. You of all people deserve to see it,” Admiral Harris said. “It is a marvelous process.”

Beth pushed the blanket away, stepping out of bed. A fierce hot pain erupted in her stomach. She clutched the area and almost fell. The Admiral caught her. She had forgotten to shed the pain and fatigue with the sweetness.

“Easy. Easy,” Admiral Harris said, helped her back into bed. “You can watch from here. I will give your hand terminal the necessary access.”

Beth, still shocked from the sudden pain, tried to shove the Admiral’s helping hands away.

“That damn thing hit me real hard,” Beth said, poking the metal flakes. The wound’s tissue and skin had not flowed back into normal, the metal persisted.

“Yes. I have thrown the best engineers and scientists on board to investigate the staff and corpses. We want to know how to use it,” Admiral Harris said. “Without blowing up the ship.”

Beth frowned, crossed her arms. “The military and their weapons.”

“Are you not fascinated?” Admiral Harris said, inputting a sequence of numbers and letters into her hand terminal. He also scanned his thumb print on the screen. “You are a student from Callisto, right? I could put you on the science team. If you are interested? After you get healthy enough.”

There was no debate. The most intriguing discovery humans have ever made. She could not deny herself the opportunity to study it, or them. What was the orb made out of? Was the fleshy creature an oxygen breather? Many questions hung in the air.

“Of course I am interested!” Beth exclaimed.

The Admiral handed her the hand terminal, which showed a video feed alongside a scrollable window with data.

“Here. Send the science team any questions you have, Dr. Birgitta is happy to answer all of them. I have been told that you should be on your feet in a few days’ time,” Admiral Harris said.

Beth barely registered that the Admiral left, her attention solely focused on the alien data and the video feed. The fleshy creature had some strange compounds inside its tissue. Where the science team expected to find a blood analog they instead discovered a black gas. Exceptionally few liquids, but many mixes of exotic gas. Two rectangular air-tight, transparent glass containers stood on individual work tables. A chunk of tissue and parts of a leg from the fleshy creature had been put in the smaller container. The larger container held the cracked orb and a larger chunk of the fleshy creature. Beth pressed an icon, the live video feed went into reverse. Minutes turned into seconds. The Admiral had been correct! In the larger container the orb slowly absorbed, or ate, its friend’s remains. But never once during the entire recording did the orb open. Could the orb’s shell somehow absorb through its metallic like surface? The remains which touched the orb almost looked merged with it, no apparent seam. The mass had to go somewhere. She clicked an icon besides the feed. Additional details popped up. The orb’s temperature rose as it consumed the corpse. Sensors inside the container picked up a smell similar to mint. Mint?

Smaller chunks of the fleshy creature’s tissue had been preserved in tiny flasks for posterity and the return trip to Earth. When Beth had hammered down on the orb flakes of its shell had cracked off, some of these laid in a third much smaller container. Slivers of the shell’s metal had been scraped off and put under the microscope. A high density material that lacked magnetism and its basic elements could not be declared, but it emitted a faint exotic radiation. This radiation was not from the background of space.

Beth pulled in another spreadsheet. The idea was within grasp. A spreadsheet displaying various emitted radiations from different types of fusion reactors, sorted first by the level of fuel independency, second by the type of ignition. Shoulders tensed, sweat trickled on her forehead. She gasped, forgetting to breathe because of the excitement. There was an overlap between the orb’s radiation pattern against some of the fusion reactors. Especially the more advanced types, which ran without additional fuel for years. Just a few of those had been constructed and only in the last couple of years. The technology had not matured. Their huge size meant they could not yet be used by starships.

Could the orb be a perfected miniature of that fusion reactor type? A perfected fusion reaction of that kind had potential to power several Space Cities for years. Or a small machine with an extreme density of circuitry. Was there any life inside it? It had behaved as a sentient being, it hid behind the fleshy creature as if it had been afraid. But that could have been alien advanced machine learning.

She jotted down some notes into the hand terminal’s notepad, saved it and read on. Curiosity’s hooks gripped fiercely. Eyes turned watery and red. She read through the night until she finally fell asleep during the small hours, still with the hand terminal on her chest.