Crisis in the Sky
by
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Lieutenant Giles, dressed in his usual civilian garb, seeming almost perpetually some shade of gray, approached the Brigadier's menacingly large darkobony wood desk. The large, wall-displayed video map of the Ibenian–Zonian Border region provided the room's only lighting. The superior officer appeared only as a dark silhouette standing behind the miniature fortress he called his desk. "Brigadier Ming, System Edge Communications Monitoring has made an important discovery," Giles said as he reached the front of the desk and saluted. "Lieutenant, don't you know you're not supposed to salute when you're out of uniform?" Ming asked in a tone betraying more than a hint of disgust with his inferior's behavior. "Oh, sorry sir. I forgot. I'm excited," he apologized, awkwardly dropping the offending salute. "What has gotten you so wound-up?" the Brigadier asked calmly. "Well, sir, our monitoring satellite on the opposite side of the Haldean System has picked up a very weak signal from beyond Haldes that may indicate intelligent life." "You mean that series of long-short signals that appear to have a pattern to them. We've been monitoring them for years. No one has been able to prove they mean anything." "I know sir, but these are new. Voice transmissions. Look, we've phonetically transcribed some of the sounds into Unilang," he said. He placed the roll of papers he had been carrying in his left hand in front of the stern-faced officer. Ming stared long and hard at the documentation presented. The apparently random syllables made no sense to him. Once in a while, he noted a syllable here and there that sounded like a word in his own language. He considered that it might be mere coincidence, but noting the frequent repetitions of certain words and sounds, he could come to no other conclusion. This, indeed, represented a genuine language, the clearest evidence of unknown intelligent life Ming had ever seen. "Who else knows about this?" he asked the Lieutenant. "No one, sir. The data from that satellite is transmitted only during my watch." "Haldes is obviously closer. Do the Haldeans communicate with them?" "No, sir. They apparently don't know these transmissions exist." "Hmm. Let's hope this is a secret between you and me until these troubles with Haldes are over. I wouldn't want them to obtain new allies." "Yes, sir!" Giles replied, always enthusiastic at being privy to a secret. "Giles, you're a good intelligence officer, but you're not a good military man," the Brigadier stated, shifting from his stiff posture to sit back and cross his legs. "Sir?" queried Giles, timidly. "Don't get me wrong, I'm pleased with the work you do. You're capable, efficient, loyal to your system and, probably most important in these trying times we are about to face, you have personal loyalty to your superiors. Believe me, there will come a time in the near future that particular virtue will be rewarded much more than it is now. I believe we've underestimated that trait too much recently. "However, I digress. Back to your situation. Giles, you just don't have the spit-and-polish attitude required to get ahead in the Space Service." "But I love my intelligence work," the junior officer replied, a mild panic in his voice. "I know you do, son, and you do a damn good job, but you'll never get decent promotions. You can't get by in today's military just by being competent. You have to look military while doing it. Outward appearances weigh heavily now that the Space Service has grown so large. "I have an alternative in mind. Some friends of mine on the Council are trying to expand the civilian intelligence community. You know as well as I that the Haldeans plan to make war on us. They have no choice. Their world is dying. To survive, they need our system. There are lots of pacifists among us who don't want war - no matter what the price. They want to reach a compromise with the Haldeans; give them enclaves on our worlds. It won't work. You can't trust the bastards. Give them an inch of ground and they'll want everything else. We can't have that. I love our way of life. With them fouling our territory, there will be no way to preserve it. Besides, if they wanted that, they could have easily asked for territory on Tor, perhaps even Darkov. I doubt, however, the Zonians would like that much. They've never proposed a peaceful settlement, nor will they ever do so.
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About the Book
On the eve of an interstellar war, a team of soldier-scientists sets out to investigate a newly discovered civilization that, if advanced enough, could be strategically important. While investigating the newly discovered planet, one man’s suspicions are aroused. Unlike his home planet, which seems geologically dormant, this one is alive with earthquakes and volcanoes. Also unlike his home planet, there is evidence of humanoid evolution yet the civilization seems less advanced despite the fact that humanoid history on the new planet is much longer. An encounter with a more advanced race of beings that intervene in a destructive war that the visitors inadvertently start confirms his suspicions. He is also informed that his entire society as well as that of their sworn enemies is part of an elaborate experiment. This discovery shakes the very foundations of that society. After the Kimians subdue their long-time enemies, the Haldeans, they turn their military might toward the supposedly less advanced civilization only to find them a far more difficult adversary than they expected.
About the Author
The author was born and grew up in the Mid-Hudson Valley. The rocky terrain of the area impelled his interest in geology and the Alaska Earthquake of 1964 his interest in seismology. He developed an interest in writing in elementary school. As a fifth grader, with his teacher’s encouragement, he submitted a poem to a magazine for publication. The poem was rejected, but he continued writing. After high school, he attained a Bachelor of Science degree in geology and a Master of Science degree in geology with a concentration in geophysics. He has worked in the oil industry for twenty-five years. During that time, he served as editor of the newsletter of the Southeastern Geophysical Society in New Orleans.