Extremophiles

happen,” Inst cut in, “They're going to keep it all under wraps, and we all know it. It's happened before.”

  “Are you talking about the past sightings? But why?”

  “Could be any number of reasons. Maybe it interferes with belief systems, or challenges some group's power. Maybe they just don't think the public can handle the truth. Maybe they don't want the public to know the truth, regardless.”

  Of course, Uul had to add his contribution, “Maybe they already know about the third planet and its abilities, and maybe they're scared.”

  Dorn was having none of it, “If they decide to keep the entire mission classified, then that's the way it will be. All of us are bound by duty and our personal oaths to the program.”

  “That oath also says that we have a duty to explore with bravery and expand the knowledge and future of all...” Kil challenged.

  Her declaration surprised him. She had never tried to contradict him. Worse was the fact that she had done it front of the crew while on a mission. A flush ran through his body, and he turned away from the others, wings folded against his back in anger. “I've been with this program from the start. If any of you want to throw away your career and risk incarceration, or worse, you'll have plenty of time and opportunity to do that back home.”

  Nio's voice rang out in their minds, momentarily startling them all. “What about the thing that brought it, how do we know they're not already here?” The channel was still open, the crew of Nia-2 had heard the argument. “The people should at least be warned.”

  “Warned of what?” Kil responded.

  “Of the fact that monsters living on a planet of liquid fire are moving through the solar system and into our back yard!”

  “That's the kind of thinking that starts wars,” Kil shot back.

  Uul weighed in with, “We might be losing a war right now, were it not for the fact that we've remained hidden. I agree with her, and Control. We need to get out of here, and leave no trace behind.”

  Non broke his silence, “So you two think we should just run and hide? Never attempt to leave our own world again? Are we to forget everything we've learned up to this point in light of the discovery of intelligent extremophiles?”

  “This conversation is over. Close the channel, and await my orders,” Dorn barked. He removed the image of the third planet from the cabin display, but none of them could get it out of their heads. With the preparations for launch completed and double-checked, there was nothing left to do but wait. His wing pairs swam through the thick soup of gasses as he positioned himself to nap the time away, grateful that his silence was reflected by the rest of the crew.

  Again the dream of the strange ship floated into his subconscious, this time the interior was as black as the void between stars, and then something came out. His dream-self stared in awe at the tiny hand and forearm reaching out from the dark interior of the craft. Although gripped with fear and dread, he watched his own bare arm reaching out, in spite of his vehement mental objections.

  The minute, pale thing came to rest in his upturned black hand, at least five times the size of the smaller appendage. Pain exploded up through his arm. He watched on in horror as the small arm and hand turned blue, then white, and crumbled into frozen shards. All the while his own arm seared and smoked, then turned to ash and floated lazily to the surface of the moon.

  Dorn awoke with a jerk, breathing heavily. He roughly situated himself at his control panel and pulled up the feeds from the exterior cameras. The ringshine from the tilted bands of Onn was lighting the landscape even before the rays of Rone fell onto the tiny moon. He opened the channel to Nia-2 and projected his mental voice, “Non, what's your status?”

  “Ready,” was the reply.

  Dorn heard the fluttering of wings behind him, though not a word was uttered as the crew settled into their own stations and began strapping themselves into their seats. He changed the feed to take in their sister ship. At the sight of the huge device perched atop the craft, he suddenly found their actions questionable. It seemed like such a waste of time and resources. There was no evidence of a looming threat, but orders were orders.

  The time crept by agonizingly slow, and the tension within the cabin grew nearly as thick as the mix of gasses percolating within it. Dorn was more than thankful when the final command scrolled across his screen. “Lift-off in five,” was all he said.

  A jolt shuddered the vehicle as the trio of landing gear groaned into action. The legs extended along tracks and then retracted, gently hefting the craft upward against the minuscule gravity of the moon. Once out of Nia's atmosphere, the liquid rockets would be fired, then jettisoned prior to reentry.

  “All systems operational,” Uul announced.

  “Burn for course correction is calculated and loaded,” Inst confirmed.

  Dorn changed the display to see below their craft, where Nia-2 soon crept into view. It too glided gently above the surface and slowly ascended.

  “We have warning lights,” Orin's voice came over the communications link.

  “What? What warnings?” Dorn immediately asked.

  “Nothing serious, two of the legs are just taking their time retracting,” the engineer affirmed, “All other systems operational.”

  “Burn for course correction loaded,” Ost informed her own crew.

  Dorn inquired, “What's going on with those legs, Orin? Talk to me.”

  “Um, I don't really know. We can see them on the camera, but they aren't moving. They haven't even pulled in halfway. I've cycled them three times now, and I can't get them to move up or down.”

  Dorn didn't need to expound the ramifications of the malfunction. All knew that there was no way the ship could survive reentry into Onn's atmosphere with even one leg extended. The ship would be dragged off course and torn apart in the upper layers. The crew of Nia-2 understood this as well, and it was reflected in their silence.

  “Approaching the burn window,” Inst called out with more urgency than was normally present.

  Dorn turned to face Uul, “What can we do?”

  “Honestly, I don't know.”

  “What about emergency docking?”

  Non's voice boomed, “You know there's not enough time. Are you going to kill everyone in both ships, trying to save those in one?”

  “What if we bump them. You know, nudge the legs back into place with our ship?” Kil asked.

  Non quickly shut down the theory, “It's too risky. Again, you destroy all, trying to save some.”

  “We're in the window,” Inst reluctantly informed them.

  “I don't know what to do,” Dorn admitted, the shame and regret clear in his tone.

  “We'll get back to you,” and with that, Non closed the connection.

  “Dorn, we need to burn now,” Inst reminded him.

  He simply nodded, and the craft soon shuddered again as the thrusters blasted them on a course for home. As soon as the burn was complete, Dorn looked to Inst, “Calculate their burn window.”

  The crew of Nia-1 sat in silence and waited for the communications channel to reopen, while Inst furiously resolved the window for Nia-2. It seemed as though a bitterly slow amount of time had elapsed when she announced, “Window closed.”

  The communications channel crackled to life as Ost's voice confirmed, “Course correction plotted and loaded.”

  Cheers erupted among the crew of Nia-1, and Dorn announced, “By the stars, I thought you'd missed it. Look, there's always the chance there won't be that much of an effect. They may even break off without any damage to the ship.”

  “Dorn, we've calculated a rudimentary course to follow.” Non's voice was somber and soft.

  “What? A rudimentary course to where?” he asked.

  “To the third planet.”

  The words echoed throughout Dorn's head, and he turned to see the surprise and confusion emanating from the others.

  “What is he talking about?” Kil asked in a rising tone, “What is he saying?”

/>   “We've decided, among ourselves, that this is too big to be decided by any one person or by any government. We took a vote, and we waited until the burn window had closed to tell you so there could be no argument.”

  “Non, what are you doing? And what do the others have to say?” Dorn challenged.

  Orin sounded off right away, “We voted, Dorn. It's unanimous.”

  “It's for the greater good, and for the future of all, like the oath says,” Ost declared with obvious pride.

  “I don't really agree with the reasoning of why, but it's a simple decision really; die now or die later. I choose to die later,” was all Nio offered.

  Dorn pleaded, “I don't understand. You don't have gas supplies to stay in orbit long enough for a rescue, let alone a trip to the inner system. What are you thinking?”

  “We're thinking about the future,” Non told him with finality.

  Kil erupted, “What future? Even if you somehow survive the trip, which you won't, you'll be evaporated before you get close!”

  “That's true,” Non's voice was calm and even, “But the ship itself, our suits and equipment will remain. And given the relative size of our craft to their own, we just need to get close. They won't be able to miss it.”

  Ost's soft voice again permeated their minds, “Don't be sad, because we aren't. This is far too important to leave in the hands of so few. This way, the populations of both planets can choose how to move forward, instead of just a handful on one side or the other.”

  “There's no turning back now,” Non told them, “You have a tough road ahead. It's