“Ahh...Firestorm, sir. Repeat: Firestorm.”
He acknowledged the message. “Disconnect.”
Could it be? He walked over to the closet, donned his black silk robe, and proceeded to the library.
Activating the console inset in the surface of his mahogany desk, he enabled a secure connection to a little-known NASA computer hub tied into the Space Surveillance Network. The hardware was buried deep inside Space Control Center at Vandenberg AFB and completely dedicated to receiving and storing data from Genesis, his brain-child and the successor to the first extra-terrestrial search program he had led decades ago. “Firestorm” was the code word he had established to indicate a visual anomaly detected by the satellite’s telescope, which had been trained on the same region of space in Alpha Centauri as its predecessor had been, more than a decade ago.
Five years since Genesis was launched, he hoped his wait might finally be over.
* * *
Summer 2018
Kennedy Space Center, Florida
“10...9...8, go for main engine start, 6, main engine ignition, 4...3...2...1... We have lift-off of Space Launch System’s inaugural flight! SLS-1 climbs toward its rendezvous with the International Space Station, delivering scientific instruments and supplies.”
The announcer’s voice from NASA’s Mission Control carried over Kennedy Space Center’s loud speakers, heard by thousands of onlookers as well as millions of television viewers, all witnessing the heir of the vaunted Space Shuttle program ascend to the stars.
With a restrained smile, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration administrator leaned back in his observation chair from the V.I.P. pavilion as he watched the rocket ascend. The deputy administrator and other senior NASA officials walked over and shook Benson Davis’ hand, offering their congratulations.
For the second time in his career, Davis had orchestrated a secret mission concealed within the public one. Unknown to everyone watching, save a small technical team and handful of government personnel, a nondescript satellite rode along side SLS-1’s official cargo. The device, code-named Genesis, was his second attempt to contact intelligent life outside the Solar system.
This time, he thought, all doubt will be erased....
* * *
Summer, 2023
Firestorm! Davis could hardly contain his excitement. Was this alert the one he had been waiting for all these years? He made a typo on his first attempt to enter a complicated alpha-numeric password to access the server. Although archaic, he still preferred a manual computer login, always worried that voice repeaters were outsmarting verbal security protocols.
Within seconds of his repeated login attempt, he was inside the firewall. Now that he was connected, voice navigation was required.
He began with a high-level command. “System status.”
A computer-generated male voice responded.
Alert URO
“Specify classification,” Davis ordered.
BFO
Davis was proud of his acronym: Benson Foreign Object.
“Display sequence.”
A series of six high-resolution photos were projected in front of him, side by side, each frame progressing chronologically left to right representing 30 minutes total. The first two images offered a star field, a pattern he was intimately familiar with, having studied for uncounted hours the satellite images “Essie” had taken before her destruction over ten years ago.
The Essie project, a nickname for Extra-solar Search Satellite and Emissions, had been supremely unsatisfying, ending with a disintegrated satellite, wrecked space shuttle, injured astronauts, and more questions than answers, no thanks to his former employee, Dr. Frank Carver, who may or may not have come into contact with an extra-terrestrial from a planet within the constellation Alpha Centauri. Decades ago, Davis had chosen to focus his efforts on Alpha Centauri for two reasons: It was the closest star system to Earth and, he believed, might contain a planetary system capable of supporting life. The system itself was quite uninteresting from an astronomical standpoint, offering no nebulae or stellar nurseries, not even a gas giant. Noteworthy were only three objects: a binary pair of stars, and a small red dwarf.
Gambling that Carver’s encounter during Space Shuttle Discovery’s rescue mission had been genuine, he had once again deployed a space telescope to gaze into that same region of space, and transmit a message that an intelligent alien would understand. The program name “Genesis” was apropos, he thought, if he turned out to be right.
He found what he was looking for in the last four shots: Background stars obscured by a black spot, growing larger in each subsequent shot. An intense feeling of déjà vu gave him goose bumps.
Excitedly, he offered another voice command to the console.
“Contact Alpha Team, message as follows: BFO confirm, secure vidcon 0800 EST.”
Davis disconnected from the SSN, leaned back in his chair, and smiled.
* * *
“Thank you all for rearranging your schedules. Joining us this morning is Dr. Jonathan Smith, White House Science Advisor, CIA Director Curtis Kirkpatrick, Joint Chiefs Chairman General Marcus Powell, and NASA Deputy Administrator Christine Everest. This is a secure line, and what we are about to discuss is classified. The following information is to be shared with no one outside this group.”
Davis was seated at his desk inside NASA’s Washington D.C. headquarters, the virtual assembly gathered before him hovering in front of his desk, four computer-generated heads facing him left to right, each enjoying a similar arrangement from their respective locations scattered across the eastern seaboard. Everyone nodded curtly.
“You’ve all been briefed on Project Genesis, a top-secret satellite currently in geo-sync low earth orbit, programmed to observe the Alpha Centauri system via radio, infrared and visual telescope arrays, collecting and transmitting data to the Space Surveillance Network. Genesis has been on task since 2013 and, until now, has been passive.
“At 0230 this morning, Genesis detected a visual anomaly which initiated a Firestorm alert.” Davis tapped his desktop touchscreen, replacing the projected image of his face with a star field. The image scrolled through a sequence of ten views, and repeated.
He added commentary as his colleagues viewed the repeated images. “The photographic sequence you are seeing was recorded by Genesis early this morning.” He paused and let the sequence cycle three times. His audience readily noticed the small black “hole” in the star field that grew in size with each subsequent photo, obscuring almost a third of the stars in the last.
General Powell was the first to speak. “What the hell is that?”
“Before I attempt to answer that, I want to show you another series of images,” said Davis. He keyed his touchpad again. Another sequence of images scrolled through, similar to the first.
“This series was taken by another satellite. Project E.S.S.E.,” Davis explained.
“I thought that project was cancelled years ago?” Director Kirkpatrick asked.
Davis answered matter-of-factly. “Essie was destroyed during the final Space Shuttle mission in 2012.”
“Then how—”
“The second set of images you are seeing were taken eleven years ago, just before that mission.” He paused for effect. “I want to remind you again that this briefing is top-secret. E.S.S.E. was the predecessor to Genesis. Both satellites have recorded this same black spot anomaly, originating from the same region of space. The images suggest an object on a direct course for Earth.”
The group issued quiet murmurs of skepticism. Turing off the image sequence, Davis continued. “Eleven years ago, after this data from Essie was evaluated, I sent a crew up in Space Shuttle Discovery to investigate.”
“You’re referring to the last mission, right? The flight commander suffered serious injury and the shuttle had to be piloted by one of the mission specialists,” Christine Everest, Davis’ deputy, offered.
 
; “Correct. Dr. Frank Carver, who had designed Essie’s power system, was sent up there to determine why Essie had lost power, and retrieve her stored data if the satellite could not be repaired. Something went wrong, and Essie was lost. The damaged shuttle was forced to make an emergency landing.”
“What happened?” General Powell asked.
“Unknown. But, I have a theory.” Davis cleared his throat, nervously shifting in his seat. “Both Essie and Genesis were designed with a secondary function. Each was equipped with a powerful microwave transmitter, and sent continuous radio signals to Alpha Centauri. I believe this black spot is an alien intelligence sent to investigate our satellite transmissions.”
The formality of the briefing was abandoned as Advisor Smith, Kirkpatrick, Powell and Everest all began rapid-firing incredulous questions at Davis. He waited until the chorus died down.
He held up both hands. “Folks, please, allow me to explain. When the black spot first appeared years ago, it made a beeline for Essie, then disappeared. The satellite immediately began losing power and the orbit started to decay.
“During Carver’s space walk to rescue Essie, he experienced something. A few seconds later, the satellite crashed into Discovery, and you know the rest.”
“What did Carver see?”
Here goes nothin’. “He believes he encountered an alien intelligence. An extra-terrestrial from a planetary system in the Alpha Centauri region.” His statement was met with stunned silence.
After a few seconds, the General didn’t mince words. “Bullshit.”
“I understand, General. It’s unbelievable. And precisely why Carver told no one about his experience, except me. But he claims to have conversed with the alien. I think he was telling the truth. I was authorized by the White House to replace Essie with Genesis, this time sending a more direct message. It seems that message has been received.”
“Does the President know about this?” Director Smith asked.
The President’s science advisor answered. “She knows about Genesis’ existence, but not about the transmissions.”
“I was given approval for Genesis by the Obama administration,” Davis added.
The General’s face was turning red. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight, Davis. Let’s say for a moment that your man Carver wasn’t a total wacko, and what he said happened up there really did happen. This alien, capable of space travel, apparently came to check us out in response to your signal. After a conversation with Carver, it obliterated your satellite and almost caused the destruction of Discovery and her crew along with it. And you thought it would be a good idea to go back for seconds? Are you out of your friggin’ mind?”
“It’s not that simple, General. First, there’s no evidence the alien intentionally destroyed the Essie satellite or caused Discovery’s malfunction. Carver believes it was an accident, completely unintentional. Second, these aliens, whoever they are, have left us alone for over a decade. If their intentions were hostile, we would have heard from them a long time ago.”
“You don’t know that, any more than you know whether or not there’s an alien armada hiding behind Jupiter waiting to conquer Earth.”
The President’s science advisor jumped in. “This entire discussion is pure speculation. For all we know, this black spot is nothing more than an asteroid, or a dust cloud.”
Davis saw his opening. “Precisely why I have called this conference. I need your help to find out what is up there.”
“What do you want?” General Powell asked, his eyes narrowing.
“I want to track this black object’s every move. We need to re-program at least two of our security satellites from the surveillance grid, lock one of the International Space Station telescopes on the object’s course, and possibly the Lunar Array as well. Today.”
The General snorted. “You are nuts. There’s no way we can do all that.
“Absolutely out of the question,” Director Kirkpatrick sated emphatically. “Re-tasking a single detection satellite would create a huge hole in our surveillance net. I’m not going to authorize that without a Presidential directive.”
Davis was becoming exasperated. “Fine. One will be forthcoming as soon as I meet with her. Look people, you all agreed to be a member of the Firestorm team. Maybe when you signed on you assumed it was a lot of science fiction make-believe. Let me assure you: this is real, it’s happening right now. If this object is what I think it is, an extra-terrestrial visitor from beyond our solar system, a hole in the ground surveillance system will be the least of our worries. We must prepare. And if the object turns out to be an asteroid or dust cloud, well...I’ll end up with egg on my face, and all of you will have the satisfaction of watching me fade into retirement. That alone is worth the trouble, wouldn’t you agree General?” he asked with a grin.
“It damn well is. But, not so fast Davis. Where’s Frank Carver? I want to know what really happened up there during that last shuttle mission, direct from the source, not some redacted report.”
Davis let out a long breath. The last time he had tracked Carver down without giving advance notice, he nearly got his head knocked off. “I’ll see if I can find him,” he promised sheepishly.
About the Author:
Tom Glover graduated from Oregon Institute of Technology in 1985 with a degree in Mechanical Engineering, and has spent his professional career in high-tech business management. A passion for space exploration and NASA provided the inspiration for his first novel, The Last Shuttle. Reader support and a writing award led Tom to publish a sequel, Sentinel. He lives in Tomball, Texas with his wife, Kim and bonus-son Thomas. His son Brandon attends Baylor University. Visit the author’s website at https://www.tomgloverauthor.com.
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