- Pioneer -

Interstellar Ambassador

By John Westcott

© Copyrighted by John Westcott.

As I have recently had issues with people stealing my stories and selling them as their own, I feel I have to put an explicit copyright warning on my stories. Be advised that I have properly documented and protected my copyright of these characters and situations and have enlisted a lawyer to protect them. Any violation of my copyright will result in legal action, beginning with, but not limited to, a cease and desist order. If that fails, further and harsher legal actions will be aggressively pursued to the full extent of the law.

"We are technologically retarded on a cosmic scale." - Stanton Friedman - Physicist / UFO Investigator

The metal alloy robotic hand reflected the rays of the huge ‘G' class sun in the distance as it grasped the frame of the ancient space vehicle before it. If sound were capable of travelling in space, perhaps one might have heard the creaking and straining of worn metal and ancient technologies, ancient even by the standards of those who had created it. Being careful not to rend the tiny piece of equipment to pieces, the metal hand began to retract the space debris into the belly of the ship it was attached to. The enormous vessel that had discovered the enigmatic device consisted of a main triangle shaped hull flanked by four dagger shaped secondary units that spanned the length of the primary triangular hull and continued on and outward well beyond it's forward tip, there were two on either side with one slightly above and the other slightly below the primary hull.

As the metal hand pulled the machine back into its docking bay, alarms sounded indicating that the docking bay was not pressurized. The crew of the mighty vessel was well trained, however, and had long since cleared the area as they waited behind pressure bay doors and watched through view ports as the lone space wanderer entered their ship. The robotic hand placed the probe on the deck plates with the infinite care of a mother placing a baby in its crib. Finally, the hand released the vehicle and retracted up toward the high ceiling and disappeared into a recessed alcove, which was then sealed off. More alarms sounded as the bay re-pressurized, then stopped just as suddenly as a voice announced over the intercom that it was indeed safe to enter. The main bay door slid open and the command crew (accompanied by the primary science team) of the D'aakarith approached cautiously. This was, after all, a piece of space debris which was created by some form of sentient (or semi-sentient) being. Who knew what the original intent behind this piece of equipment might be? Was it intended as a weapon? A trap of some sort that may annihilate those that came near it or activated it? Caution was certainly advised.

Warlord D'aakar, whose family owned the mighty ship, waited at a safe distance as he watched his science team pour over the object with a myriad of instruments. It was just as well that he keep his distance from them anyway, those that belonged to the scientific caste may be only one step below those of the warrior caste, but it was enough to make D'aakar feel unclean simply being with in their presence. There was no way to avoid it, true, in his daily life he came into contact with many of the lower castes, and he always found it an annoying task to perform the cleansing rituals at the end of every cycle to rid his system of the impurities they presented to him.

Finally, the scientists informed him that it was indeed safe for The Warlord to come forward. D'aakar sent for his brother and second in command, D'aakaree, to join him. Finally his brother rushed into the bay and to his leaders side, only slightly out of breath. D'aakar turned to address his brother, one hand on the ceremonial blade that hung by his side, and addressed him quietly. Had the creators of the ancient space probe before them been there now, they possibly could have translated the language and heard the following:

"D'aakaree, my brother, it is not seemly to arrive so late to a summons from your elder bother. One might think you were not showing the proper respect. Have you been plotting my assassination once again?"

D'aakaree looked almost insulted as he addressed his sibling. "Not at all, my brother. There was a problem with the ion engines which I felt required my personal involvement. Had the situation not been addressed, we may have had to take the engines offline and deploy the solar sails as a means of propulsion."

"See that you concentrate on your duties, my brother, I need not remind you of what happened the last time you tried to take my place." D'aakar said as he patted the sword that hung from his belt with his four fingered hand. D'aakaree ran his own webbed fingers over a scar that ran the length of his right primary arm. He had lost his right secondary arm that night as well, leaving him with only three good arms. "I admire your ambition and guile, but I suggest you wait until your position is stronger and mine weaker before you strike again."

"I understand, Warlord." The younger brother replied.

Side by side, the two ranking officers of the mighty warship examined the ancient piece of technology. Warlord D'aakar's attention immediately came to rest upon the rectangular shaped gold plate with etchings on it. D'aakaree was soon standing by his side and examining the panel. Many of the markings were unknown to both of them, but one thing they did recognize was the diagram of planetary objects. A star system with nine planets and one sun. The third planet in the suns orbit was indicated as having special significance. As much as he hated having to do the cleansing rituals, The Warlord turned to address his primary science officer.

"This is a diagram of a solar system." He said, asking as much as telling him. The science officer was quick to respond.

"Yes Warlord, we are running a search as we speak to find the corresponding system on our star charts."

"And what do you make of this?" D'aakar asked as he pointed to another diagram. Fearful of contaminating The Warlord too much, the science officer stepped forward only slightly so that he could see exactly what part of the diagram his commander was pointing to. It was a picture of a human male, his hand extended in a wave, a female by his side.

"We have, at this time, put together a preliminary hypophysis that it is a diagram of a biped species similar to ourselves. They have evolved with only two arms, unlike our race, making them far less coordinated and lesser warriors than yourself. Apparently they have divided into two sexes, also unlike our own species, indicating a possible derisiveness among the two."

"And these?" D'aakaree asked as he pointed to the symbols below it.

"We do not have enough information at this time to form a theory as to the meaning of those symbols. Were I to make a guess, they could possibly be religious symbols, or perhaps something related to their primitive sciences."

D'aakar and his brother shared a glance as one important question, perhaps the most important question of all, passed between them. Finally, it was D'aakaree who voiced the question.

"Would they have the technology to withstand us?"

The science officer's reply was immediate. "It is highly unlikely."

"Excellent." D'aakar whispered to himself as his lips pulled back into a smile, revealing three rows of sharp teeth.

Three decades earlier, in the early 1970's, Pioneer Eleven was launched into outer space. On it's face was a gold rectangular disk upon which was etched the images of a man and a woman, basic chemical symbols, and a diagram of the solar system. Doctor Jessie Fraser, then a top scientist with the Pioneer project at The National Aeronautics and Space Administration, thought nothing of the consequences of her work. She was one of the first women to work in this field and the only woman on the top level of the team, and she would be one of the few who constructed the probe that would leave our solar system, possibly even coming in contact with another space faring civilization. Doctor Fraser reasoned that any species capable of travelling among the stars would be an intelligent, enlightened people. In the years that followed she began to rethink her philosophy.

After the decade of the 60's, Fraser and others like her were embracing new ideals. A revolution of love that preached tolerance for all mankind. Now they were taking those first tentative steps into outer space. Now, in the year 2001, she wished she would have had the intelligence to think twice about The Pioneer Project and her participation in it. Oh, how the ideologies she and others like her had once embraced were abandoned so quickly. The 70's and 80's were decades of pure, unadulterated greed and we began paying for it in the depressing era known as the 90's. By the turn of the century, thoughts of peace had been long forgotten as children went to school armed like soldiers of fortune and the environment grew more poisoned by the day. What had happened to the pristine future they had envisioned? Where had they gone wrong? When did Nintendo and MTV take over as the primary parental figures and let our children run wild in the streets?

In the past ten years, the frequency of her nightmares had increased. Nightmares involving some distant alien race discovering the probe she helped to create, and leading them straight back to Earth to destroy and mutilate. If such a thing did happen, was she not at least partially to blame? She couldn't help but deny that the blame for any loss of life would fall, at least in some degree, on her head. They were so naive, thinking of peace and a greater future for themselves. If the probes had come into contact with a species that was even a tenth as brutal and senseless as the human race had proven itself to be, they could be in incredible, unprecedented danger. How could they, as a race, take these steps into the stars when they themselves still haven't managed to solve the problems right here on Earth? In fact, things were becoming worse and worse by the year. Wholesale slaughter in the middle east and even here at home in our very schools have become an every day occurrence, barely causing the batting of an eyelash any more. Events of death, mutilation, and destruction were now just another three minute sound bite on the evening news.

When she looked back upon the incident later on, Jessie felt a certain dread when the phone rang and jostled her from her slumber and the accompanying nightmare.

"Hello?" She said with a voice still scratchy and thick from her slumber.

"Mom? Sorry to wake you." It took Jessie several seconds to recognize the voice of her son Jack.

"Jackie? Why in God's name are you calling at this hour? Is something wrong?"

"How long will it take you to pack a bag and get ready to come with me to Washington, mom?"

That caught Jessie's attention, making her sit up in bed and turn on the bedside lamp. "Jackie, where are you?"

"I'm on the front porch."

Jessie promptly hung up the phone, kicked off her sheets, and ran to the front door. When she opened it she did indeed see her son standing there, cell phone in hand and a limousine with engine still running waiting at the curb. Jack deactivated his phone and stepped inside, a lopsided grin on his face.

"Sorry about this, mom."

Jessie searched her son's eyes and looked for some inkling as to what had brought him here, Jack worked in a high level department of the Federal Bureau of Investigations, and lived in Washington. "Son, what's going on?"

Jack shrugged as he escorted his mother back to her bedroom and opened her closet, looking for her overnight bag. "I'm not sure myself, mom. I just know he wants to talk to you personally."

"Who does? Who wants to talk to me?" She asked. Jack looked over his shoulder at his mother as he reached out for her luggage.

"The President."

"Of The United States?"

"One and the same."

All at once Jessie knew that something was dreadfully wrong and her stomach tightened with fear. What could The President possibly have to discuss with her? Only one thing could possibly have necessitated a meeting with the leader of the free world.

Pioneer.

Had something happened? Something disastrous? Immediately she forced herself to calm down as she went into the bathroom and began to make herself look presentable as her son dutifully packed her clothes in a suitcase. She tried to apply her lipstick and found her hand was shaking. She willed it stop. There was no need to presume that it was something disastrous. Who said anything about impending doom? Certainly not her son. Perhaps Pioneer had made contact with an alien civilization and they were benign and peaceful. Perhaps they offered a cure for every disease known to man. She told herself that she would not succumb to fear until there was a damn good reason.

When she was dressed she reentered the bedroom to find that her son had packed her luggage for her and looking at his watch impatiently. He never did have a gift for patience. Wordlessly, she accompanied him out to the waiting limousine and minutes later they were bound for Washington DC.

"What do the scans tell us, my brother?" D'aakar asked. His brother had just returned to the command centre of their ship and took his seat next to his brother on the low slung command couch located on the raised platform at the rear of the command area. D'aakaree unfolded the printout and spoke to his brother in hushed tones, trying not to reveal his excitement.

"It is a lush world, brother. Much like our own used to be. They too are in the process of poisoning it, as we ourselves were, but there is still much in the way of unspoiled resources."

"And these humans, they are much like ourselves?"

"The air on their planet is thinner than our own, their atmosphere not nearly as arid, but essentially, we can make use of everything on their world... including the humans themselves."

D'aakar nodded in understanding as he poured over the scientific printout. "You are saying these humans meet our nutritional requirements?"

D'aakaree nodded in affirmation. "Yes, my brother. They themselves offer a form of nutrition that satisfies our every need. To say nothing of the other, lower animals that abound on the planet. This planet will supply our war efforts against the clans for many years."

D'aakar stood and smiled once more, although his face betrayed little joy as humans knew it. The smile was one of malice, and perhaps triumph as well. For hundreds of years his clan had been roaming the stars in their large world ships, looking for new places in the stars in which they could further their war effort against the other clans. They had destroyed their own world due to lack of vision, they were not a forward thinking people. An endless number of wars between the clans had brought their world to ruin, forcing them into their world ships, each one carrying an entire clan, to go off in search of a new world like their own. These new worlds would serve as a home base in the ongoing war with the other clans, and it was assumed that the clan to find the most planets would probably win the war and unite the clans under one rule.

D'aakar was the first to have found a planet that met their needs. This blueish orb referred to as Earth by its inhabitants. From the moment they had discovered the probe spiralling in space and back tracked its path to the Sol System, they had been monitoring the planet. It's broadcasts, it's happenings. They too were a violent people, but incredibly primitive and unorganized. Their two lobed brains easily succumbed to ‘advertisements' broadcast daily about which product made teeth whiter, or cleaned clothing better. They were even blind to the fact that there were other sentient races in the galaxy, arrogant enough to believe themselves the greatest and highest beings in all creation. Soon, they would become something else, D'aakar thought, they would become his means for victory.

Jessie knew that something was dreadfully amiss almost immediately upon her arrival at the White House. After a fairly extensive body search and a run through a metal detector, she was given a special pass and ushered, along with her son, into the inner sanctum of the building. Jessie had been in The White House on tours in years past, but never before had she been her under circumstances such as these. Her dread did not abate when she entered a room filled by large men in military garb, and a few others in the standard white lab coat that was the trademark of the scientist. All eyes fell upon her as she entered the room and her eyes fell upon the grey haired man sitting behind the single desk in the room. The President Of The United States. Suddenly she realized that she was unable to find her voice. Fortunately, The President spoke first, coming out from behind the desk and shaking her hand with his best politician's smile.

"Mrs. Fraser, it is an honour to meet you. You're something of a legend at NASA so I hear."

After a nudge in the back from her son, Jessie finally found her voice. "Thank you, Mr. President. It is an honour to meet you as well."

The President's face darkened and the tension showed at the corner of his eyes as soon as the meagre pleasantries were out of the way. "I wish the circumstances of our meeting were happier though. I'm afraid our top scientists have picked up a signal identical to that used by Pioneer Eleven."

Jessie's stomach tightened even further as her hands grew colder with fear. "That can't be, sir. Pioneer Eleven left our solar system. It should be ten billion miles from Earth."

That was when one of the white coated scientists, a balding man of about forty, spoke up. "We've run it through the computers and we're pretty damn sure it is the beacon used by Pioneer. According to our calculations, it has just passed Pluto, heading for Earth. Fast."

Fraser knitted her brow. "How fast?"

"Faster than it should be able to. Faster than any form of propulsion we have ever devised." He responded.

"It looks like Pioneer was a success, Doctor." The President added. "Now all we have to do is find out who found it out there."

Seven Hours Later:

From a balcony at The White House, Jessie watched as the huge triangular hull of the alien vessel emerged from the roiling black clouds above. What had she wrought? In a moment of completely paranoid and uninspired thinking, The United States Government launched several warheads at the incoming ship when they could not establish any kind of communication with it. Those warheads were destroyed before they ever came into contact with the ships hull by an energy weapon, which was unleashed moments later upon The Earth in retaliation. The governments of the world launched their respective air defences, only to have them obliterated as well.

She and the others like her who worked on Pioneer were responsible for this. The guilt for all the deaths and destruction that had happened and was about to happen was hers to bear. It was as if her nightmares had come to life and hunted her down from the reaches of cold, cruel space. The President and most of his staff had long ago been secreted away in a bunker deep under the ground for their safety, but she remained. She insisted on seeing it with her own eyes. Beside her, Jack reached out and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. She noticed that he had his gun in his other hand, even though it would do them no good, she realized that he felt better just being able to grip it reassuringly. That was when it hit her. How ironic, she thought. A heart attack.

She fell back into her son's arms, almost grateful that she would not be there to see the atrocities she was certain would follow this day. She found that her hearing was failing her for some reason, as Jack's panicked face came into view, his lips forming words she could no longer hear. Instinctively, she reached out and took his face in her hands, and then moved it aside so that she might lay eyes upon the alien vessel one final time. Then she uttered those famous words, so fitting for her situation, and how she felt about herself:

"I am become Death, the destroyer of the worlds..."

The world's first atomic tests in 1945 elicited this comment from the chief of the Manhattan Project. Robert Oppenheimer quoted from the Bhagavad Gita. "Brighter than a thousand suns, I am become Death, the destroyer of the worlds."